River Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 3

by Jackson, Myla

  “I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Alarmed at the man’s direct question, Rosalyn sidled another step away. The fact that the gentleman knew to ask about Dalton by his given name rather than Dillon Green, the name he’d assumed upon arriving aboard the Marie-Dearie, had Rosalyn wondering just who this man was and what he wanted with Dalton.

  The gentleman’s lips pressed into a semblance of a smile and his hand rose to capture her elbow, the grip surprisingly strong.

  Rosalyn tried to jerk her arm free.

  With a quick twist, he spun her, his arm clamping around her middle, her back pressed to his front.

  She gasped. “Unhand me, sir.”

  “I think not.” The cold, hard steel of a pistol’s barrel dug into her throat. “You’ll come with me or die. Either way is fine with me.”

  “Bastard,” she whispered, afraid to move too much lest the man’s trigger finger slip, sending a bullet through her skin.

  “Not as much of a bastard as your coldhearted, gambling lover, Dalton Black.”

  “What did he ever do to you?” she dared ask. Maybe if she kept him talking, she’d find an opportunity to turn the tables on the man and escape to warn Dalton.

  “Not me, someone I cared about.” He turned her toward the interior of the boat and eased her down the steps to the cabins.

  “If that person was anything like you, he deserved whatever happened to him. Assaulting a woman is about as low and cowardly as it gets.” She eyed the stairs. With the man above her, she could trip and fall, taking him down with her. As they neared the bottom step, Rosalyn drew in a deep breath and readied herself for the fall.

  “Try anything stupid and I’ll kill you here. Your lover will take the blame, and he’ll be up on three counts of murder, instead of just two.”

  “I told you I don’t have a lover.”

  “Stop lying, whore. I know you’re Rosie of the Rose Palace. I also know Dalton Black proposed to you on the day he was accused of killing two U.S. Army soldiers.” The man behind her stopped in front of her room. “Open the door.”

  She stood still, her hands refusing to go to the door handle, realizing this man intended on using her as bait for Dalton. “He didn’t kill those soldiers.”

  “Open the damned door.” He dug the nose of the pistol deeper, the steel against her throat making it hard to breathe.

  Rosalyn’s fingers fumbled inside her reticule. Unable to look down, it took her a moment to find the key. She felt for the lock and opened the door. “He didn’t kill those soldiers,” she repeated.

  “I know.” The man behind her shoved her across the threshold, entered behind her and closed the door. “I did, but he’s going to take the blame and die for what he did to my brother.”

  With her hand pressed to the bruise on her neck, Rosalyn faced her captor, anger building with the rise and fall of her chest. “You were responsible for killing those soldiers?”

  The gentleman smiled. “It was too easy, and even easier to plant the gold in Black’s room.”

  Rosalyn’s eyes narrowed. “Why go to all that trouble to set him up?”

  “He killed my brother, Kenneth Culpepper.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  The man snorted. “Perhaps you’ve heard of George Culpepper?”

  Rosalyn stared at the man across from her. He looked familiar. Perhaps he’d been to the Rose Palace, but then so many men had visited the Rose Palace, they blended in Rosalyn’s mind. “George Culpepper.” She rolled the name across her tongue and shook her head. “No, can’t recall anyone by that name.”

  “Culpepper Railroad?”

  Her eyes widened. “The Culpepper Railroad magnate?”

  He nodded, his chest puffing out, the arrogant bastard.

  “I don’t care who you are or how rich you are.” Rosalyn planted her fists on her hips. “Dalton isn’t a coldhearted murderer. He wouldn’t kill anyone unless it was self-defense.”

  “He killed my brother.”

  Rosalyn crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Perhaps you could tell me how he did this.”

  “Dalton cheated my brother out of every penny he owned in a poker game. My brother, who could never have harmed a fly, took his life rather than face his wife and children penniless.”

  “Dalton doesn’t cheat at cards. He doesn’t need to. Your brother was a coward and shouldn’t have gambled away his fortune to begin with.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Fine. I could care less about your dead brother or you, for that matter. Now, if you’ll leave my room, I can get on with what I was doing.”

  Her abductor shook his head, a cruel smile lifting only the corners of his lips. “Nice try. I’m not going anywhere until Dalton returns.”

  “What makes you think he’ll be back?” Rosalyn casually turned away from the man holding the gun.

  “Oh, he’ll be back.”

  “I’m not so certain.” After a year of wishing he’d come find her, now she found herself wishing he’d stay away. With her back to her captor, Rosalyn blinked back ready tears and scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon. Other than her trunks of clothing and a hatpin, she had nothing. If she planned on overcoming the man, she’d have to use her wits. “I’d bet he’s left the boat for good. He has a way of disappearing when you least expect it.”

  “Ah, but when a woman as beautiful as Elizabeth Thomas awaits his return, a man finds it difficult to resist.”

  Rosalyn gasped and spun toward the intruder. “Where did you learn that name?”

  “Thought you were smart, did you? I did a little digging on my own when you disappeared a year ago. I found a detective hired by your lover who was more than willing to get paid to report the same information twice. Once to Dalton Black and once to me. He made a tidy sum of money off us both for the same reports.”

  Despite her attempt to resist, she couldn’t keep from asking, “What detective, what reports?” Had Dalton really hired someone to find her? All this time, she’d thought he’d abandoned her, running as fast as he could to get out of marrying her.

  “Quite the find, I’ll admit. A descendent of the Thomas family of Boston, no less. I bet they’d love to know what their little girl is doing now. Wouldn’t they be appalled to discover she runs a bordello in Memphis?”

  Anger coursed through Rosalyn’s veins. “Leave my family out of this.” She’d gone to great lengths to keep the family name out of her business.

  “Don’t worry, the only two people who know are Dalton Black and myself.”

  Rosalyn gulped, backing away, her heels hitting the wall as Culpepper advanced. “What of the detective?”

  Culpepper lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her against him. “I had no further use for him.”

  Rosalyn’s heart pounded, pain shooting through the arm he twisted up behind her back. “You killed him too?”

  Culpepper sighed. “A most unfortunate accident. He slipped off the end of the dock.”

  Rosalyn gave a very unladylike snort. “With a little help, I’ll bet.”

  “Just like I’ll help you into the river.” Culpepper leaned into her, his body pressing her against the wall, his breath warm on her cheek.

  Trapped as she was, Rosalyn couldn’t move to free herself of the much larger man. She’d die here, as would Dalton when he returned. She couldn’t allow that to happen. With every ounce of strength she possessed, Rosalyn stomped Culpepper’s toes and pushed away from the wall, screaming as loudly as she could.

  At that exact moment, the door burst open. Dalton and James stepped inside, guns drawn. “Let her go, Culpepper.”

  Culpepper cursed and spun, dragging Rosalyn in front of him, the pistol pointed at her throat, her arm twisted behind her back. If Dalton or James shot at him, Rosalyn would take their bullet.

  “So you figured it out, did you?” Culpepper laughed.

  “Tyler King, also known as George Culpepper.” Dalton�
�s fists clenched. “The man who killed those soldiers that night a year ago, and framed me for it.”

  “Rather brilliant of me, wasn’t it?” Culpepper shoved Rosalyn’s arm higher up her back.

  She stood on her toes to ease the pain. “Let me go, Culpepper. It’s over.”

  “You have that wrong.” He snorted. “You see, no one will believe someone of my stature would commit such a heinous crime.”

  “Think again.” James’s lips twisted. “We saw you talking to Saulnier and followed you to your house.”

  “That doesn’t prove anything. The law has no reason to believe I was involved in those murders.”

  “This might be news to you…” Dalton pushed forward, “…even though you own half the city, you don’t own the new marshal. He knew who you were as soon as James mentioned your address, and he was quick to point out that he’s not one of your lackeys.”

  “It’s my word against yours.” Culpepper’s voice grew more intense. “In case you don’t recall, Dalton Black is the name on the wanted posters.”

  Dalton’s eyes narrowed. “Saulnier signed a confession that you hired him to plant the stolen gold in my stateroom. The marshal was on his way to your house to arrest you.”

  “But I won’t be there.”

  Culpepper twisted Rosalyn’s arm so high, she thought surely it would break.

  “He’s to come here if he doesn’t find you there.” Dalton’s shoulders pushed back. “He should be here any moment.”

  “That doesn’t solve your more immediate problem, Black.” Culpepper poked at Rosalyn’s throat, forcing her chin to an awkward angle.

  She gasped and bit hard on her tongue to keep from crying out. Culpepper would kill her, no matter what Dalton or James would say to stop him. Then he’d kill them, and she couldn’t let that happen.

  “Drop your guns, gentlemen,” her captor demanded.

  “Leave, Dalton.” Rosalyn’s eyes filled with tears. “Leave now.”

  “I can’t.” Dalton’s lips curled in a hint of a smile.

  “Neither can I.” James eased up beside Dalton.

  “Please.” The tears ran down her face as Rosalyn begged the men she loved to leave her.

  “Let her go. I’m the one you want.” Dalton stepped forward, the gun still in his hand, no longer pointed at Rosalyn or Culpepper.

  “You don’t understand.” Culpepper laughed. “I don’t want you, I want the person you love. I want you to see the person you love die. Just like I watched my brother die. I want you to feel the pain I felt, to witness the life bleeding out of someone you care about.” Culpepper pushed Rosalyn’s arm up higher. “I want you to suffer.”

  Rosalyn winced, biting down hard on her tongue to keep from crying out. “You have to leave. He has no intention of letting any of us live. Leave before he can make good on his threat.”

  “No. I left you once. I won’t do it again. I love you, Rosalyn. If anything happens to you, my life is over.”

  Rosalyn’s heart broke into a million pieces. The words she’d longed to hear from Dalton came too late. The gun pressing into her throat would soon send a bullet through her. She’d die, and neither Dalton nor James could do anything about it. Then the bastard would turn on Dalton and kill him as well.

  Anger pushed all sadness from Rosalyn’s mind, bringing her gaze into crystal-clear focus. She was the only one who could get herself out of this situation. Her men wouldn’t shoot with her in the way. If she waited too long, they’d do something foolish like toss their guns aside.

  James’s gun tipped downward. “I’m dropping my gun, let her go and take me.”

  “No, James. Don’t do it,” Rosalyn cried.

  James tossed the gun to the floor.

  While her captor’s attention was on the falling weapon, Rosalyn seized her chance. Taking what could be her last breath, she jabbed her free elbow into the man’s abdomen as hard as she could. At the same time she stomped her heel on his foot, grinding in deep.

  Culpepper doubled over, his hand loosening its grip on Rosalyn’s arm enough she dodged the pistol’s aim at her throat and dropped to her knees. “Shoot him!” she yelled as she went down.

  A shot rang out, the sound reverberating off the walls and deafening her. Rosalyn collapsed, dropping to her hands and knees to avoid any stray bullets.

  James flung himself to the wooden deck, snatching up his gun as he rolled to his feet.

  A heavy weight crashed into Rosalyn, knocking her head against the bedpost and squashing the air from her lungs. Pain shot through her forehead, washing a gray haze over her vision. “Dalton?”

  “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.” He shoved Culpepper off Rosalyn, giving her the ability to breathe.

  The room spun, gray fog slipping in around Rosalyn’s peripheral vision. She held on to Dalton’s hand, fear tightening her grip while her world eased into black. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

  As if she were in a long dark tunnel she heard Dalton at the far end, “I’ll be beside you forever, if you’ll have me.”

  Though he promised to be there when she woke up, she couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t close her eyes. Rosalyn didn’t want to let him out of her sight ever again.

  “Shh, darling, I’ll be here. You’ll see. Everything will be all right.”

  Tears trickled down Rosalyn’s cheeks, and a sob rose halfway up her throat as she struggled to open eyelids that felt heavier than anvils. Her head ached, pain blinding her, stealing the light. Was she dying?

  She fought to reach out to Dalton as darkness consumed her, dragging her down.

  Chapter Eight

  Dalton lay in the bed spooning Rosalyn’s body with his own, brushing the long dark hair from her cheeks. “She’s been out a long time. When is that damn doctor coming?” He stared over Rosalyn’s shoulder at his friend.

  James stood beside the door, a frown pressing his brows together. “I should have gone to get him myself.”

  “You couldn’t, not with the marshal here to haul Culpepper off.”

  “He wanted to take you, too, when you threatened to shoot Culpepper again.”

  “The bastard deserves to die after all he put Rosalyn through. I should have shot him through the heart. Would have saved everyone time and the rope it’ll take to hang him for murder.”

  James shook his head. “Marshals are funny that way. They like live ones when it comes to a hangin’.” He nodded at Rosalyn. “You gonna marry her this time?”

  Dalton glared at his friend. “I’d have married her a year ago if Culpepper hadn’t framed me for murder.”

  “You sure she still wants you?”

  His gut clenching, Dalton stared down at the pale face of the only woman he’d ever loved. “She better.”

  “What if she chooses me? I’m better husband material than you are. I don’t drink and I don’t gamble.”

  “I’ll quit drinkin’ if that’s what she wants. And I’ll quit gamblin’ forever if she’ll marry me. She has to see that she makes me want to be a better man.” His arm slipped around her middle, and he pulled her close, burying his face in her thick, silken locks. “She has to be okay.”

  “Seriously, Dalton, what if she doesn’t want to marry you? You willin’ to let her walk away, if that’s what makes her happy?”

  Dalton didn’t respond. He filled his senses with everything that was Rosalyn. The floral scent of her hair, the dusky fragrance of her perfume, the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. If she refused to marry him, this might be his last time he’d hold her.

  “Dalton?”

  “Yes. If walking away from me makes her happy, I’ll let her go.”

  “No.” The soft whisper wafted from Rosalyn’s lips.

  “Darlin’? Oh dear Lord, Rosalyn.” Dalton hugged her against him, joy making his eyes sting and fear making his arm tighten. He was afraid to let her go. Afraid she’d do just what James had said and leave.

  “Let go,” Rosalyn said in a breathless vo
ice.

  “No. I won’t let you go. I love you, Rosalyn Elizabeth Thomas. I always will. You can’t leave me.”

  “I. Can’t. Breathe,” she gasped.

  James launched himself across the room as Dalton released his hold around Rosalyn’s middle.

  “You big louse.” James yanked Dalton away from Rosalyn. “Are you trying to kill her after we just got her back?”

  Rosalyn winced. “James, I’m all right. Really. But the noise isn’t helping my poor head.” She tenderly pressed her hand to her bruised forehead. “I take it you shot Culpepper?” She stared up at Dalton.

  Dalton frowned. “I should have killed the bastard.”

  Pushing up into a sitting position, Rosalyn looked around. “Where is he?”

  James brushed a stray hair back from Rosalyn’s temple, careful not to touch her bruise. “The marshal arrived seconds after your daring escape. He took charge and hauled Culpepper off to jail.”

  Rosalyn sighed. “Culpepper killed those soldiers.”

  “We know,” Dalton said.

  “And the detective you hired to find me,” she added.

  Dalton’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I’d wondered where he’d gone after he’d reported his findings to me. We’ll need to tell the marshal. I’m sure Culpepper hasn’t volunteered that little tidbit. The bastard.”

  Rosalyn turned toward Dalton. “So, your name is clear of murder charges?”

  Dalton grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” The sheer relief of not being on a wanted poster made him feel downright giddy.

  She nodded. “Good. If you’ll excuse me.” Rosalyn swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, swaying. “I’ll be leaving. Have the porter send my trunks to the Rose Palace.”

  “What?” Both James and Dalton spoke at once.

  “You heard me. I’m moving back to the Rose Palace.” She adjusted the front of her dress and pushed her hair out of her face. “You gentlemen have a good life. I want no part of it.”

  Dalton leaped from the bed and blocked Rosalyn’s exit. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I most certainly do.” With her fists propped on her hips, her blue eyes blazing, Rosalyn was even more beautiful than Dalton had remembered during those long months apart.