A growl shot from his throat. “You sold her to Wardell?”
Pressing her lips tight, Gertie ducked her head.
“Where are they?” he shouted.
The madam’s gaze lifted along with her chin, until they once more reached a confident angle. “What’s the matter? Can’t figure that out on your own? You lawmen, and everyone else in this town, are a pack of dimwits.”
“We ain’t stupid forever,” declared a voice cold as January. Behind them, hands fisted at her sides, Cora stood in the doorway. She stalked forward, pushing past Noah and Bat without a word or a glance. She only stopped when she stood toe to toe with Gertie. “I know what you did to Orin. He’s gone because of you.”
Gertie snorted. “He’s gone because he made poor choices.”
“You as good as ran him out of town with your schemes an’ your greed.”
“Don’t get all righteous on me, missy. Orin turned his back on us first. He and Edward were leaving town together. He deserved everything he got. Good riddance, I say.” Gertie flung her arms in the air as if she could cast out the man all over again. “Your brother was worthless.”
“He wasn’t to me!” Cora launched herself at the madam.
Noah helped Bat haul Cora, kicking and screaming, off the madam. While he’d like nothing better than to let the two women throttle each other, doing so wouldn’t help him find Sadie.
Gertie dabbed her mouth. She glared at the blood that came away on her fingers. “You may’ve outlasted all my other sorry brats, but I’m done mollycoddling you. I don’t give a whore’s fuck about any nonsense you feel inclined to spout concerning Orin or anyone else.”
Cora’s breath hissed between her teeth. “You’ll care when I say this.” She finally turned to acknowledge Noah. “I just saw Sadie. She’s with Wardell at the Great Western Hotel, in the room where this murderous bitch—” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the madam, “—shot Edward Fiske.”
Gertie sputtered with outrage.
Without a backward glance, Noah raced for the door. Sadie wasn’t far away. He’d find her. He’d save her. He just need a bit more time.
“You’re too late,” Gertie yelled after him. Bitterness turned her voice brittle. “A year too late, by my reckoning. You can’t turn back time. If you think otherwise, you’re lying to yourself.”
* * *
Mid-flight from Wardell’s room, Sadie gaped up at Handsome John. Why was he here? Gertie’s right-hand man stood equally frozen in the doorway. Then he blinked and the spell was broken. His brow compressed into a scowl as if tightened by an invisible vise.
The expression was so familiar that Sadie’s heart leaped with hope. Had Gertie changed her mind and sent John to bring her back to the Star?
Two men stood behind him. They pressed forward to ogle her with bold eyes. Even worse, they added another layer to the wall blocking her exit—while behind her, uneven footsteps shuffled closer. Wardell wheezed as if he’d been afflicted with the black lung. The men behind John craned their necks for a better look.
The skin between her shoulder blades prickled, begging her to turn and gauge Wardell’s proximity. She kept her gaze on the doorway. If even the tiniest escape hole appeared, she must be ready.
“What happened to you, boss?” one of the men behind John asked. “You look like the dog that got the wrong end of the stick.”
His words snatched the air from her lungs. Boss? That didn’t sound right. If the men worked for Wardell, then why was John with them?
“What’re you doing here?” Wardell croaked out.
“You told us to meet you here.” The reply came without hesitation.
“I told you to wait for me downstairs.”
“And you didn’t show. Luckily, Cora came through the kitchen and told us you was back.”
Cora? Sadie’s head spun. The woman was supposed to be helping, not hindering, Sadie’s escape. Attempting to manipulate the woman hadn’t been a wise idea after all. If it weren’t for Cora, the doorway wouldn’t be blocked. Sadie would be halfway down the Great Western’s staircase.
John’s expression retained its scowl. “Cora told us there’d been a change of plans. Said you wanted to talk to us in your room.”
He worked for Wardell now? She’d never been able to outmaneuver John in the past. Her chances of escaping Wardell’s room plummeted along with her stomach.
“Do I look like I want to talk to anyone right now?” Wardell’s voice edged higher with each word.
John shrugged. “All I know is the last time we met, you was heading for the bank. What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“But—” one of the men with John whined, “—we’re still waiting for your orders.”
“So go back downstairs and wait with the others!” Wardell’s voice was now shrill.
The two men headed toward the stairs, grumbling. All Sadie caught were the words, “You’d better have our money.”
A bolt of inspiration lifted her up on her toes as she strove to see the departing men over John’s broad shoulders. “Do you mean the three hundred he gave Madam Garrett?”
The men crowded in behind John again. “You used our pay to buy a piece of tail, Wardell?”
“What if I did?” he replied. “It’s my money.”
John spat out a low, rasping sound, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. “I’m not much of a thinker, boys, but that don’t seem right. So Mr. Wardell oughta make it up to us. He oughta pay us right now or we ain’t waiting no more.”
Wardell swore. “Were you this goddamn particular when you worked for Garrett?”
“No. But then I only recently decided I can’t do the madam’s bidding anymore. That’s why I’m here, standing in this doorway wondering if I’m repeating the same mistakes.”
“You’ll get paid. Later.” Wardell spat out the word. The puff of air that came with it brushed her hair.
Panic whipped her around. Wardell stood close enough for her to see the sweat beading his pasty brow. He wasn’t looking at her, however, but over her head at John.
“Will I?” The question shot from John’s mouth like a storm brewing. “I learned my wages disappeared in the five minutes it took you to walk from the bank to this hotel. How am I to know if I’ll ever get paid?”
Sadie couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the door as she tried to calculate her chances of squeezing by John. Same as the last time he’d stood between her and escape, he filled the doorway like an unmovable boulder.
Her chances were nil.
“Am I working for free now?” John asked. “If that’s the case, I might as well throw in with whoever I damned well please. For instance, I could start working for you, Sadie.”
Her gaze darted up to meet his. Fear that she might’ve misheard him rendered her speechless.
“This is ridiculous,” Wardell hissed. “You cannot—”
“Tell me.” John leaned down to her. “If you were my boss, what would you have me do?”
She found her voice. “Get me out of this room.”
“Done.” Spinning around, John pushed the two men behind him to the side, then grabbed her waist, lifted her through the doorway, and set her down in the hall.
Wardell and his two hired men now stood behind John’s broad bulk. No one stood between her and the staircase. She backed toward it.
Wardell, trousers up but still without his jacket and waistcoat, pushed forward. John planted his palm on the doorjamb and stopped him from going any farther.
“Stand aside.” Wardell’s glare shifted from John to her. “She’s mine.”
She backed even faster down the hall.
“Sadie belongs to no one, and I’ve regretted every time I followed orders and kept her where she shouldn’t have been. I won’t be making those mistakes again.”
“I paid good money for her.”
John scoffed. “You used your men’s pay. That’s money poorly spent.”
Red-faced
with fury, Wardell tried to shove past John. When he failed, he thrust his hand as far as he could toward her.
Even though she was out of his reach, she jumped back. “Thank you for helping me, John. I’ll find a way to repay you.”
John shook his head. “The only payment I need is if you get the hell out of here.”
She sprinted for the stairs.
“Remove him from my path—” Wardell’s shout echoed along with her racing footsteps, “—and I’ll pay you double what I promised.”
Behind her, grunts and thumps told of Wardell’s men eagerness to now do his bidding. Ahead and somewhere below in the lobby, what sounded like a door banged open, followed by many voices yelling.
She skidded to a halt and flattened her spine against the nearest wall. One stride from the top of the stairs. Out of sight of whoever created the ruckus below. Could one of them be Noah? Or were they the other hired men that Wardell said were waiting for him?
All she had to do to find out was take one more step and peek down the staircase. Uncertainty kept her pinned to the wall. The men below hadn’t seen her. That gave her an edge.
“You can’t go up. I won’t allow any trouble in the hotel,” a man she assumed was the clerk proclaimed in a lofty tone.
“Send them up!” Wardell’s roar ripped down the hall.
John grappled with the two hired men, giving their boss sufficient time to slip by. John lurched after him and lost his footing. He hit the floor with the force of a toppled oak. As he did he grabbed Wardell’s legs. Wardell fell even harder. The floor shuddered under her feet.
Booted feet pounded up the stairs, adding to the floor’s quaking.
She grabbed the handle of the nearest door. It didn’t budge. The one directly opposite did. She sprang through, swung it shut, and wedged a nearby chair under the handle. Then she stepped back and held her breath. Her lungs burned, begging her to gulp noisy breaths of air. She pressed her palm over her mouth.
On the other side of the door, running footsteps and angry shouts filled the hallway. Then the floor, and even the walls, shook as the fighting rose to a terrible din.
Expecting the door to open at any moment, she kept retreating. Her gaze clung to the thin wood separating her from the brawl. The back of her legs hit something solid. Her hand left her mouth to shield herself from attack.
A brass tub sat at her feet. What little air remained in her lungs abandoned her in whoosh. Her spine sagged, then snapped straight.
The game’s not up, she told herself. If you cannot escape, at least find a weapon to defend yourself.
She scanned the room’s contents: a pair of brass tubs, a table with a pristine china washbasin and a wealth of perfectly aligned bottles, bowls, brushes and razors. She grabbed one and flipped it open.
The straight blade flashed. Pretty as a ribbon of silver. Sharp as death.
Did she have the gumption to sink it into someone’s flesh and end their life to continue hers?
Gertie hadn’t wavered when she’d pressed her knife to Sadie’s throat. Davenport hadn’t hesitated more than a handful of seconds before he’d set his derringer against her temple.
Behind her, something—or someone—crashed full against the door. She retreated as far as she could from a slab of wood that now creaked and rattled like a portal to hell. Against all odds, the door remained closed. On the other side, John must be putting up a mighty fight but, no different than his days protecting the girls at the Star, he was only one man against many.
How many opponents did he now battle? Would his struggle be in vain?
Not if she had a say in the matter.
Whoever came through that door would get the surprise of their lives. She held the open razor hidden in the folds of her skirt. She’d learned from Gertie as well as Edward. Gaze locked on the door, she summoned ever last drop of her courage. Memories of Noah colored everything, his need to protect her, to shoulder her burdens, his glorious gift for making her smile—for real.
No more counterfeit smiles for her.
She recalled the first time she’d seen him smile. That day, she’d finally thanked him for his help and he’d given her even more. He’d rewarded her with his smile, a gift greater than any number of dollars, more precious than even her farm.
What would it be like to see his smile every day? To be a part of his life with no more games between them? Or maybe better ones?
His childhood tale about his brother rose in her mind. They’d played hide ’n seek, and his brother had fooled him by hiding under an overturned washtub.
Her gaze dropped to the tubs between her and the door. Could such an obvious deception succeed again? If she overturned both, they might look as if they’d been flipped to let them drain as the girls had done in the Star’s fancy room. They might be ignored as Noah had done all those years ago while searching for his brother.
An eerie quiet had descended in the hall. When had that happened? The silence spurred her into action. Careful not to break the hush, she closed and pocketed the razor, then turned the first tub. Kneeling on the floor, she tilted the second onto its side and began lowering it over her.
Footsteps paced the hall, before halting outside her door. A mighty crack, like wood exploding, split the air.
Surprise made her lose her grip on the tub. It crashed to the floor. The resulting clang echoed loud as a church bell in the bowl now covering her. She grabbed the rim and futilely tried to stop the ringing.
Next to her hand, through the narrow gap between the floor and the tub, only the bottom of door was visible. It hadn’t opened. Had they kicked in the door opposite?
Her relief didn’t last long. Her door’s handle rattled. She released the tub and yanked the razor from her pocket.
The door burst open with a bang. A pair of booted feet stepped over the threshold and halted. The man’s sudden stillness sent a shiver up her spine. A cold sweat slicked her palms. She clutched the razor tighter.
Was he scanning the room? Or staring at the tubs?
His feet pivoted to point away from her. He’d turned his back on the room. He’d decided nothing was inside. Her gamble had worked. The tension drained from her body. Only to return with a vengeance.
He hadn’t left.
With a mind-numbing slowness, he turned and walked toward the tubs.
A sudden longing for the sound of Noah’s spurs overwhelmed her. She clung to the memory of the jingle they’d made as he’d strode toward her when they’d first met on her farm. The man approaching had either given up his spurs or never worn them. He belonged to Dodge.
He wasn’t the cowboy she longed to see.
The toe of his boot hooked under the tub next to her and raised it enough to see underneath. Then he lowered it and advanced on her tub. When he halted, he stood opposite her razor. She braced herself. As soon as he touched her hiding place, she must use the blade.
The man’s stillness returned. He didn’t move. But voice rumbled around her like a river. Deeply familiar. Endlessly loved. “I’m here for Sadie Sullivan. For her, and her alone. I told her I’d help her. I’d keep her safe.” His voice lowered even further, vibrating with concern. “So far I’ve done a damned poor job. I just hope I haven’t failed her completely.”
Dropping the razor, she heaved the tub up. Large, work-roughened hands reached out to assist her, revealing strong arms covered in faded blue, a steadfast jaw, and amber eyes that once again warmed her like a shot of whiskey.
His grip remained on the tub, as if he were afraid to let go and reach for her. His gaze, narrowed with worry, searched hers. “Have I let you down again?”
She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Not once since you came back.” He accomplished what he’d set out to do.
She never wanted to let go of him, but she must. If she loved him, she had to give him what he’d given her. She released him and said, “You’re free to leave Dodge.”
CHAPTER 23
Noah stood on the
jailhouse porch, watching Dodge’s residents and new arrivals rush by. The town was the same as when he’d rode in a few weeks ago searching for Sadie—wicked and brash, and like no place he’d ever seen before.
Its time would come, though. It’d flex its muscles, run wild like a yearling colt, believe itself unstoppable, and then one day it would hit an obstacle that would shake it to its foundations.
That was when something amazing might happen. Things that would’ve been impossible to see previously might become clear. If the townsfolk allowed, the town could rebuild itself into something more resilient. It would survive.
All things changed eventually.
He knew this for a certainty now, because—this time—he’d been the one to change.
He’d come to Dodge looking for redemption in the salvation of a woman whose first name he hadn’t even known. He’d found all of that and more. His remorse over his brother’s death hadn’t disappeared, but it no longer gnawed at him relentlessly. More often than not, when he thought of Jacob, he recalled the good times they’d shared working the ranch together.
That was another change. Texas was on his mind a lot lately. Ideas about how to make the land flourish and improve his home tumbled around inside him like roughhousing children.
It was time to go home. Time to build a life.
But something stronger bound him to Dodge.
Sadie.
How could he leave without her? He tried to picture his future without her in it…and failed. So that meant staying in Dodge. Or not. Was there a place for him in her heart? More than ever he wanted to ask her to marry him. New worries stopped him.
She was now a respectable woman with her entire future ahead of her. No one and nothing held her prisoner—not her promise to her friend or her fears that Gertie or John would catch and punish her if she ran. After Gertie had been arrested, John had left town without a word. So had a strangely silent Cora.
For the first time, Sadie had control over her life. Would she give up any of her newfound freedom to make a place for him beside her? After all she’d been through, did he even have the right to ask her?
He should take a step back, court her, treat her like a lady. Approach her like he would’ve on the first day he’d searched for her in Dodge…before he discovered her working in a saloon. But he couldn’t move forward until he took care of one piece of unfinished business.
Between Love and Lies Page 25