The kiss was sweet, slow and soft. She relaxed in his arms and let him explore. His gentleness only made her ache for more. Drunken laughter brought her to her senses. Max tensed, lifting his head. He took a step deeper into the shadows, pulling her with him. After the group of men passed by, he tilted her chin with a finger.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong now?”
“Star is dead.”
“Star?”
“The girl Dillon kept around. I noticed her in Golden and now here, usually working in the same saloon where he gambles.”
She tried to hold back a sob.
“The last time I was gambling against Dillon, I thought to win her freedom from him.”
“Damn! Where is she?”
Max grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the street.
She pointed toward the hotel.
He talked as he walked.
“I was focusing only on Dillon. Now that you mention it, I do remember a skinny blonde hanging on him at Golden.”
Star lay in the dirt exactly where Abby had found her.
“Why hasn’t someone stopped, or taken her to the undertaker?” she asked.
Max squatted to examine the body.
“Probably not even a sheriff worth his pay in a town this size, much less an undertaker. Besides, when someone reports a murder, they often get thrown in jail on suspicion of committing the crime. Either that or they’re made to pay for the funeral.”
“That’s terrible! Whatever happened to human kindness?”
He stood and came toward her.
“You can’t just leave her there—do something!”
Tears came again and she brushed them away angrily. Max cupped her shoulders with his strong hands.
“Abby, I’ll take care of her, all right?” He ducked his head, looking her straight in the eye. “All right?”
She nodded.
“I want you to go back to the room and lock yourself in. I’ll return soon.”
“But—”
He stopped her protest with a hard, quick kiss.
“Now,” he demanded, and she knew better than to disobey. Besides, if anyone could discover what happened to Star, Max would.
Once she returned to the hotel, she began shivering, even though the night air was warm. She stripped off her silk dress and pulled on a flannel nightgown. She climbed into bed and snuggled under the comforter, waiting for Max to return. It wasn’t long before she heard the key turn in the lock.
“Hold me, Max.”
Abby yearned for his solid presence next to her; otherwise she knew she would have nightmares. Max’s shoes hit the floor with a thunk. The bed creaked under his weight, and Abby rolled toward him. His arms came around her to pull her across his chest. She tucked her head under his chin, listening to the strong beat of his heart. She didn’t say anything for a long time. Silent tears dropped onto his shirtfront.
“Nobody should have to die alone, Max, regardless of what they had to do to survive.”
“I know, sweetheart. We’ll be her family tomorrow.”
Max sounded tired, and Abby hugged him tighter. He was her knight in shining armor and he would make everything right with the world.
* * *
Abby met Max at the blacksmith’s as the farrier helped him load the pine box onto the back of a wagon. Dark shadows under her eyes made her face paler than usual, and her hands twisted an already damp handkerchief as they drove out of town. He hated to see her unhappy, but knew of no way to make her smile. Death was never easy, especially one as brutal as Star’s. He was only sorry he hadn’t been there to prevent her from discovering the body in the first place. There was no evidence that Dillon murdered Star, only very strong suspicion.
Blocking Dillon’s access to his money had angered the man, and he most likely took it out on the barmaid. Now Max intended to escalate the timetable, putting even more pressure on Dillon. He wanted this case over and done. He couldn’t negate the possibility of the man killing again. At the moment Monty was keeping Dillon under surveillance. Once they saw to Star, he planned on getting Abby out of Central City and back to Denver where there were more men to keep watch over her. She pointed to a tree that stood alone at the edge of the river.
“There.”
Abby gathered wildflowers while he dug the grave. Neither said much until Max managed to get the coffin into the ground. Once it was covered, she laid the flowers on top the freshly turned dirt.
“May I say something?”
Max nodded. She slid her hand into his and he closed his fingers around it. He looked at her and found her eyes raised to the heavens, tears glistening at the corners.
“God, it shouldn’t matter what Star did while she was alive. Women have so few choices. But you must know she wouldn’t have chosen this life if there’d been any other way. She didn’t deserve to be hurt and she doesn’t deserve to be punished for something that wasn’t her fault. Please take care of her and let her be happy.”
“Amen,” Max said. He replaced his hat and helped her to the wagon, thinking about her words. She was stubborn and argued with him constantly, but she was also compassionate and giving with a heart of gold. A heavy weight fell away from his heart. He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to realize he loved Abby more than life itself. And it was damn time he did something about it.
* * *
When they got back to the hotel, Max told Abby to start packing.
“Where are we going?”
“Denver, first thing in the morning. Now that I’ve shut off Dillon’s funds, he’ll have no choice but to go to San Francisco. I figure he’ll head to Denver to take the train. Just to make sure he goes after his money, I intend to apply a little more pressure.”
“How?”
They’d climbed the stairs to their rooms, and Abby followed Max into his.
She really didn’t want to be alone. Thoughts of Star made her melancholy. She watched him put on his blond wig and gambler’s vest to transform himself into Jeffery Markham. Now that she knew his disguises, it was easy to see past them and recognize Max. But as he’d said once, people see what they want to see. If Dillon wasn’t looking for Max, or Reverend Fishbone, he wouldn’t see that Jeffery Markham was the same person.
“Max?”
He stopped pouring water into the basin. She looked at him across the width of the hotel room, longing for him to hold her tight and chase away the images of Star’s battered face. Besides, if Dillon was the one responsible, she worried about Max facing him. As though he read her thoughts, he came to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.
“I’m so sorry you’re right in the middle of this, angel.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“It’s not your fault. I wanted to come with you.”
She looked into his wonderful blue eyes.
“I think, in fact, that I was the one who made you bring me.”
“Well, I’m still taking you home tomorrow. But first, I want to make sure Dillon knows we’re on to him. I want him running for his life.”
“Please be careful.”
He grinned at her.
“You know I will. I have something very special to do when this mess is over.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, but instead of letting go, he tightened his grip to bring her against his chest, and his mouth captured hers. His tongue caressed the seam of her lips, enticing her to open for him. As always when he touched her, Abby’s body began to throb. Her legs felt weak and she grabbed the lapels of his coat, holding on for dear life. He nibbled at her lips before kissing a path to her ear. She pushed closer, aching for what only Max could do to her.
“I am beyond wanting when it comes to you,” he whispered raggedly.
Abby took his head in both hands and returned his kiss, begging him without words.
He turned, pushing her against the closed door. He bunched up her skirts and skimmed his hand up her leg. She gasped when his warm fingers
slid between the slit in her pantalets to touch her intimately. He cupped her, one finger sliding deep to send her plunging into a sea of sensation. It was wilder and more intense than ever before, and she didn’t want to return to reality. Max cradled the back of her head with his palm, bringing her head to his shoulder.
“Angel.” His voice was still ragged with passion.
She felt his hand tremble as he rubbed her back.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he whispered. “One day we’ll go too far—I’ll lose control.”
Tension still radiated from his body and the hard length of him pressed against her pelvis.
“Max, teach me the rest.”
His groan vibrated through his chest. He caressed her cheek, brushing her hair back and cupping her face so her gaze caught his. Stormy blue eyes held a wealth of intent, but he shook his head.
“Not here. Not in some seedy hotel in the middle of nowhere, and not without—” Max stopped.
“When, Max?”
He brushed his lips across hers in a kiss so soft Abby would have thought she imagined it if not for her eyes being open. Once, twice. Her hands tightened on his wrists.
When the time is right.”
Chapter Fourteen
Max left her thinking about his cryptic words. As far as she was concerned, the time was right now, regardless of Dillon or anyone else. But since one of the things she loved about Max was his sense of justice and commitment, she couldn’t fault him for trying to find Monty and recapture the family fortunes before he could commit to her. Toward that end, she started packing. When she folded her last dress, a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, she saw directions scribbled in pencil, and remembered taking it out of Star’s hand. Abby wondered if the directions were to an address here in Central City.
She grabbed her reticule and left the room. If it was a clue of some sort, she needed to tell Max. He hadn’t left that long ago. She hurried out onto the boardwalk in front of the hotel, and saw him walking toward the lower end of Pine Street. He was too far away to hear her call him. She hastened after him, keeping him in sight as he turned toward the trees. Abby skirted a hedge of trees and came around a bend in the dirt lane. She turned just in time to see Max walk behind a tumbledown shack. She was about to call to him when Dillon stepped from the trees ahead of her. Before she could shout a warning, he fired his pistol.
“Max!”
The minute she screamed, Dillon swung around and pointed his gun at her.
Even from a distance, Abby recognized the evil lurking in his eyes and the sinister smile on his face.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here.”
He holstered his gun and began sauntering toward her. Abby shook and tears rolled down her cheeks. She heard Max groan, but he wasn’t moving and she didn’t know how badly he was hurt. If Dillon caught her, he would surely kill her, too. Trembling, she dug in her reticule, fingers closing around her derringer. Max never had given her the lessons he promised, but he’d loaded the weapon and she knew how to fire it. Now, she pulled it from her bag and leveled her arm, pointing the small gun at Dillon.
“I’ll shoot!”
“Have you ever shot a man, sweetheart?” Dillon laughed. “I’ll bet you don’t even step on bugs.”
As he stalked her, she backed up until she bumped into a tree. Willing her voice to quit trembling, she said,
“I swear I’ll shoot.”
“Yeah, and I’m going to heaven when I die.”
Dillon grabbed the gun from her hand, latched onto her arm and dragged her back to where Max lay. Abby hated herself for not being able to shoot him. He was a vile robber and murderer and deserved punishment. Now, she fell to her knees, placing a shaking hand on Max’s chest to feel a faint heartbeat. His breathing rasped in his throat, but he lay in the dirt unconscious.
She flung herself at Dillon, catching him by surprise when she pounded on his chest.
“You’ve killed him, damn you!” she screamed, punching him in the eye and scratching his face with her nails before he backhanded her.
“Bitch!”
Abby fell to the ground, her cheek burning.
“He’s been following me since Chicago. And now you. Why?”
He grabbed her and twisted her arms behind her back, tying her wrists together. He shoved her down beside Max, then looped another rope around her booted ankles, cinching it so tight she yelped in pain.
“Why?” he asked again.
Abby narrowed her gaze, hoping to convey how much she thoroughly despised him.
“You’re a liar and a cheat and a thief and a murderer. Is that enough?”
He shot her an evil grin. “And I thought you didn’t like me.” He slid his hand up her leg. “It’s too bad I can’t stay around and show you my other fine qualities.”
He squeezed her knee. She kicked with both feet, connecting with his shin and throwing him off balance.
He caught himself and stood, grabbing a handful of her hair and one arm and dragging her toward the dilapidated building. She gritted her teeth against the pain. When he roughly shoved her through the doorway, she fell, hitting her shoulder on a rock. This time she couldn’t prevent the cry that escaped. She watched him drag Max in after her and dump him in the dirt.
“Since the two of you are so cozy, you can just stay that way forever,” he sneered.
“Max will hunt you down and kill you,” she hissed.
Dillon stepped close and she willed herself not to show fear. He bent low, his whiskey breath hot against her face.
“He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. And neither are you.”
With that, he grabbed the pocket watch she wore, snapping the chain from around her neck, and walked out the doorway. The minute he left, Abby scooted across the dirt floor to Max’s side.
“Max, can you hear me? Please wake up.”
He only groaned when she nudged him.
She squirmed upward until her hip was against Max’s shoulder and her legs against his arm. Blood still oozed from his shoulder. Although it didn’t seem to be flowing quite as hard, he’d probably already lost more than he should.
“Max.”
She bumped him again.
“Max?”
He groggily repeated the name, but then his head rolled to the side.
She heard noises outside. She turned her head in an effort to see. Dillon crossed in front of the door, a bundle of sticks in his arms. She hoped he wasn’t camping at the shack, or she would never be able to get loose and tend Max’s wounds.
“So long, bitch. Too bad we’ll never get to finish that poker game.”
He tossed a match to the side then closed the rickety door. It took her exactly five seconds to realize what he’d been doing with the limbs, another ten seconds for panic to swell her chest until she thought she would cry. Max groaned beside her. Now wasn’t the time to break down. She drew a steadying breath and decided then and there if she was ever going to be a self-sufficient woman, now was the time to start, or there would never be a tomorrow. This time when she bumped against Max with her hip, his eyelids fluttered and he looked at her, dazed.
“Sarah?”
“Who is—never mind. You’ve got to get my knife and cut these ropes.”
“Knife?”
He appeared totally disoriented. She only hoped he would stay conscious long enough for her to get loose. She smelled the smoke.
“Oh, God.”
She managed to kick both feet into the air, causing her skirt to drop away from her legs.
“Get the knife from my sheath.”
Luckily she was lying on his good side, and he haltingly slid the knife free. She rolled away from him onto her stomach.
“Quick. I don’t know how close Dillon set that fire, but if this shed starts burning, it won’t last two minutes.”
He roused enough to saw at the ropes binding her wrists. The smoke wafted inside the tiny building in thick curls. They both began to
cough. She felt the rope give, and Max fell heavily against her back. She struggle out from under him, for unconscious he was dead weight. When she sat and reached for her knife to cut the bindings on her legs, she saw flames licking the dry wood of one wall.
“Hurry,” she mumbled to herself, struggling to stand. She sheathed the knife and reached for Max.
“Wake up, we have to get out of here.”
He didn’t move. She felt a moment of panic and reached for his throat. Her fingers found a faint pulse, but he was also bleeding again. Luckily the door that Dillon swung shut to lock them in was as rotten as the rest of the wood that made up the shack. She only kicked it twice before she managed to shove it open. By then the smoke was thick, and flames engulfed the back two walls. She reached for Max to drag him out, praying she had the strength to move him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, digging in her heels. She pulled backward with all her might, scooting him just inches.
“Augh!”
His eyes popped open and he glanced wildly around. Abby came into his line of vision. He started to swing his good arm, stopping short of clobbering her on the side of the head.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“I really don’t have time to explain right now. Lean on me.”
Abby placed his good arm around her shoulders and helped him to his feet. Together they stumbled from the door as the rest of the shack went up in flames. She moved him away from the heat of the fire before his legs gave way and they tumbled to the ground. This time he managed not to land on top of her. She rolled him over, noticing fresh blood soaking through his shirt. She quickly unbuttoned it and tugged it aside. Ripping the hem of her petticoat, she made a pad to stop the flow of blood. He was pale as death. She closed her eyes.
“Please, God, don’t let him die.”
“You have me dead and buried already?”
He coughed, his voice sounding strange from the smoke.
“You’re alive.”
She choked on the words, hugging him.
“Ah, Sarah, you always were a tenderhearted miss.” He opened his eyes but his gaze was still unfocused as he looked at her. “You are not Sarah.”
Love in Disguise Page 25