Delilah's Flame

by Parnell, Andrea

  The Chinese had tried to escape, Lilah thought. Ching’s men would never have done that. She felt a strange wave of relief it hadn’t been Tabor attempting to break into her father’s room.

  Pressed flat against the wall between shelves housing her father’s collection of Indian pottery, Lilah held her breath as she saw the savage shimmer of a knife blade in the tangle. One man groaned. In the knotting of arms and legs and dark clothing, Lilah couldn’t tell who, nor could she tell which man wielded the weapon.

  Her heartbeat faltered at the thought that it might be the Chinese and not Tabor who was armed.

  Without thinking how rashly she acted or that it was Tabor Stanton she risked everything for, Lilah grabbed a pottery bowl and ran toward the fray. In the thin light, it was hard to distinguish which man each head of black hair belonged to. Lilah stood with the bowl poised. When she saw what appeared to be the wave of the pigtail, she crashed the bowl against the head to which it was attached. One man slumped on top of the other.

  “Never miss, do you?” Tabor climbed from beneath the unconscious Chinese.

  “You can be glad of that!” With her fear of the Chinese gone, Lilah’s hostility toward Tabor came rushing back. “Who is that man?”

  “I guess that means he’s not one of the servants.” Tabor pulled the knife from the Chinese’s hand and tucked it into his belt. He paused to straighten his clothes and run his bruised fingers through his tousled hair.

  Lilah took a closer look at the moon-shaped face. “I’m sure I’ve never seen him. I’d better call Ching.”

  “No rush,” Tabor said, whirling around and giving Lilah reason to wonder if she shouldn’t have cracked the bowl on the other skull. Wildly he swung her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.

  “Don’t!” Lilah sputtered her outrage. But as his lips moved on hers, she felt herself growing weak and confused.

  “Thanks.” Tabor stepped back, noting the glow in her eyes.

  “For what?” she mumbled, still dazed.

  His eyes sparkled. “For trying to save me. I had no idea you cared so much.”

  “You simpleminded fool!” Lilah’s face reddened. “I wouldn’t have cared if he had cut you into cubes. I was afraid he would get to Papa.”

  “Now, Lilah,” Tabor teased. “Don’t be shy.”

  “You idiot!” In her fury Lilah grabbed another pottery bowl and heaved it at Tabor. He dodged and the bowl shattered at his feet.

  Lilah’s hands covered her mouth as she realized she had just destroyed another of her father’s prized artifacts.

  “What’s that commotion, Ching?”

  Hearing her father’s voice from inside his room, Lilah looked quickly toward the now open doorway and saw Ching standing there. She didn’t notice that as he folded his arms into his sleeves, he hid the weapon he had held in readiness. She did wonder how long he had stood there and silently watched.

  Ching’s expression remained unreadable as he knelt and lifted the downed Chinese’s head.

  “An intruder,” he said in answer to Clement’s question.

  Clement wheeled himself to the doorway. His face ran a flurry of varied expressions. He looked at Lilah, at Tabor, at the unconscious man, the broken bowls.

  “Do you know him?” he asked Ching, aware his companion knew most of the Chinese in the city.

  By now several of the servants, having heard the strange noises, had ventured into the hall. Ching gave them orders in Chinese. One boy nodded quickly and ran off.

  “He calls himself Joe Han. He is a hired man, not one to work on his own,” Ching reported in his flat voice.

  “I saw him slink out of your library and head down this hall,” Tabor said. “When I asked his business, he attacked me.”

  “Lilah?” Clement wondered how she had gotten into the altercation.

  “A noise awakened me. I came downstairs to see what it was,” Lilah explained. Standing close to her father, she rested a shaky hand on the back of his chair. “I was afraid for you, Papa.”

  Clement touched her hand as he looked up at Tabor. “I’m grateful to you for stopping him,” he said, then quickly lifted his brow in surprise when Tabor laughed.

  “I would have,” Tabor said. “But Lilah put him in that state by cracking one of those bowls over his head.” He gestured toward the empty spots on the shelves.

  Lilah was relieved Clement didn’t have a chance to ask what had happened to the second bowl. The boy Ching had sent out returned with two of the Chinese men who usually watched the grounds of Damon House. She couldn’t understand a word but knew Ching’s staccato orders to take the man away included a strong reproach that he had been allowed to slip past them.

  “My men will find out why he was here before they turn him over to the authorities.” Clement turned to Ching and asked that he have other men search the house in case Joe Han had not come alone. Ching responded that was already being done. “Let’s have a look at the library, then,” Clement said.

  The party moved up the now brightly lighted hall. Lilah tightened her wrapper around her waist and was conscious of the cool tiles under her bare feet. At Clement’s insistence she waited outside with a servant while the men made an investigation in the library. After a few silent minutes she couldn’t stand the wait and slipped inside herself. Nothing was obviously out of place in the room. Only a close inspection revealed one desk drawer not quite shut, a painting no longer hanging straight, and several books replaced on the wrong shelves.

  Clement cursed more violently than Lilah had ever heard him.

  “What did he want, Papa?” She voiced the question all of them had in their minds.

  “I had a bag of coins in that drawer,” Clement said. “The men will probably find it in his pockets. He seems to have taken a few papers from my desk. Nothing of importance—all those that matter are in the bank vault. Some of the ivory figurines are missing, a piece of the jade too, I think. It doesn’t look as if he came for anything in particular. He was a very tidy thief, probably figured we wouldn’t notice for some time that he’d been here.”

  “You don’t think he was intentionally headed for your suite?” Tabor asked.

  “I doubt it,” Clement said. “Most likely he was looking for more small items he could carry away in his pockets. This kind of thieving is happening more and more often around here. That’s why I keep guards on the grounds.”

  “For all the good they did,” Lilah remarked.

  She saw Ching’s slanted eyes narrow. It was all the assurance she or Clement needed that such a thing would never occur again at Damon House. She pitied the guards who would take Ching’s full wrath. One of those poor fellows came in a few minutes later and relayed what he had learned from Joe Han. He spoke quietly in Chinese to Ching.

  Ching related the entire story without pause. “Joe Han was persuaded to rob this house by a man he met in Chinatown. He was told a crippled man lived here and there would be no danger. For showing him this house, Joe Han was to divide his take with this man. He was instructed to steal papers from the desk and any money he found. Whatever else he took was to remain his. He does not know this man’s name, only that he was a white. The man was to meet him a street away half an hour ago. The men are going there now.”

  Clement frowned. “If he was smart enough not to come inside, he’ll be smart enough to know something has gone wrong after this long. I suggest we all get to bed. Ching and his men will see to everything that needs to be done.”

  Ching, rather than leave Clement alone, called for another of his men to accompany him to his suite. Lilah held her father’s hand and walked with him as far as the door.

  “Promise me the next time you hear odd noises you’ll call for help before you explore,” Clement admonished Lilah.

  “I will, Papa. I promise.” She smiled. “I really don’t know what prompted me to come downstairs like that, but I’m glad I did.”

  “And I appreciate what you did, Lilah. But I’m sure Tabor could h
ave stopped Joe Han. I don’t like you risking your safety for me.”

  “Papa—”

  “I mean it, Lilah. Don’t you realize what I want in life is for you and Dinah to be happy? I have all I care about or need in my two girls. I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. What would I have to live for then?”

  “All right, Papa,” she said obediently. “I’ll be careful. For you. Good night.” She kissed his cheek.

  Until he was satisfied everything was safe at Damon House, Ching had ordered that Lilah be escorted to and from her room. A Chinese guard accompanied her to her bedroom door and waited with her while another went inside and checked both the bedroom and adjoining sitting room. Only then was Lilah allowed to enter. With the guards outside, she closed her door and turned the key in the latch.

  “He almost spotted me,” Tabor said as he stepped through the balcony doors.

  Lilah scarcely gave him a glance. “Go away,” she said weakly, dropping down on the dressing-table bench. “I want to be alone.”

  “You were scared down there, weren’t you?” Tabor crossed the room in a few strides. “I thought maybe cracking skulls came as easily to you as breathing.”

  Now that the danger was over, Lilah felt exhaustion take over. “If that man had gotten into Papa’s room...”

  “Ching would have killed him before he took a step.”

  Lilah looked up in astonishment. That was undoubtedly true. But for some reason it hadn’t occurred to her at the time. Just as it hadn’t occurred to her to call for Ching’s assistance while Tabor fought Joe Han. Down there in the darkness, caught up in the struggle and danger, she had thought she was the only one who could protect Papa. Now she felt foolish and frightened.

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she said.

  Tabor propped one foot on a stool and leaned his elbow on his knee, bringing his face quite close to hers.

  “You fuss over your father like a mother hen with chicks. You treat him like...”

  “An invalid?” Lilah’s eyes heated up.

  “Your father isn’t an invalid, Lilah. He’s got more life in him than most men with two good legs. He doesn’t need your doting.”

  “You’ve known my father a few weeks. Does that give you divine insight into his needs?” she tossed back.

  “I know what kind of man he is. I don’t think you do. I don’t think you know what kind of woman you are, either.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “You seem determined to find out.”

  “I am. Maybe I would have let you out of that bet days ago if I could have settled on just who and what you are. But you fascinate me and I can’t be satisfied until I know which part of you is real.” He stared into Lilah’s eyes, seeking what lay behind them. “Tonight you were a scared little girl. I saw that in your face.”

  The spell of his eyes held her. For a moment she couldn’t think. Not until he raised her chin with his finger did the words come through.

  “Anybody would have been scared,” she said bluntly.

  “It was more than ordinary fear. I almost forgot the Chinese when I saw the look on your face. Nothing about you adds up, Lilah. You’re a woman torn into pieces, and every time I put them together, I get another picture.”

  “Why does it matter to you?” she asked, turning her head so that she freed herself from his touch. “You could have your horse and your money back if you wanted it.”

  He looped his fingers possessively in her flowing hair. Just touching her started a tightening in his loins. He let go of her hair as he realized touching her also brought alive more dangerous feelings, those warm and tender ones a man could lose himself in.

  “I don’t know why it matters,” he said gruffly, angered at how his body ached for her. “But what happened tonight doesn’t change anything. You are going with me to the ranch. Just as planned.”

  Chapter 13

  “Papa, remember to tell Loo to look after Lotus.” Lilah stroked the orange tabby’s silky fur a last time, then took the cat and laid her on a cushion.

  Dressed in a fringed jacket over a blue cotton blouse, a divided buckskin skirt, and high boots, Lilah was ready for the journey to Tabor’s ranch. A brown felt hat hung loosely on her back, held there by a leather chin strap. Experience having taught Lilah that her abundant hair would not hold in a bun when subjected to the rigors of a long ride, she wore it fashioned into a single braid that swung over one shoulder.

  “The cat won’t be neglected, Lilah. Nothing here is. Now, stop your dallying and tell me good-bye too. Or is Lotus the only one entitled to farewell kisses?” Clement had watched patiently for nearly half an hour as Lilah found an endless string of nonessential tasks to do.

  Out of excuses for delaying her departure with Tabor, Lilah hastened to her father. She knelt on the floor beside his chair.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind if I go away, Papa? I could still—”

  Scoffing at her, Clement brushed cat fur from the sleeve of Lilah’s riding jacket. “I want you to go, Lilah. Haven’t I always insisted you and Dinah take up every opportunity that comes your way? It will do you good to stay on a ranch, to get another taste of the vigorous life you had as a child.”

  “I hope you’re right, Papa,” Lilah said softly, her heart trembling with misgivings.

  “Rigorous” was perhaps a better description for what she would expect on this trip. She did hate leaving Papa again so soon, and yet some small mutinous part of her actually relished what lay ahead. It almost seemed that her creation, Delilah, cried out from somewhere deep inside that she would have her way. With a tender look, Tabor made her want to abandon the strong and puritanical values Aunt Emily had instilled in her youthful mind. One gentle touch from him and she was ready to forget her conviction that a woman’s virtue must be placed above all else. One kiss from his warm, eager lips and she was ready to live the legend of Delilah and to become, for him, a woman of fire who followed no rules but her own.

  Ah, well, she sighed. That was fine when the rules were only the dry old laws of justice. But the rules which governed her body were another matter indeed. She had never held back bending the law when in the end the curve led on to justice. But what would happen if she bent the rules of what was right or wrong between a man and woman? Where would she find herself then? At least as things were now, she knew where the dividing line stood. But where would it be and where would she be once she crossed that carnal threshold?

  The dilemma brought Lilah a deep frown and a rather muddled thought that it was quite unfair she should have to make restitution for one of Delilah’s misdeeds. Tabor Stanton was driving her insane, and once again she searched her mind for a way to undo what she had agreed to. Only the memory of how ill her father had been a scant few days ago kept her from blurting out the scandalous thing she was about to do. But, better she sacrifice her innocence than put Papa’s heart to the test.

  And yet, as she stood and the moment to leave was before her, Lilah prepared to say something—though she had no idea what—something, anything, to break through the compounding confusion in her head. Nervous excitement built inside her like steam in a kettle, needing an outlet. She knew she should be hating what lay ahead, but only part of her did; the other part insisted on rebelling and feeling a strangely wayward elation about it. Truly that was the most frightening thing of all. She almost spilled out her feelings, but looked up and saw Tabor standing in the library door, an intimidating look marring his handsome face.

  Clement, unaware Tabor was near, cocked his head and looked curiously at Lilah. Lately she had been as moody and detached as Dinah. “Is something bothering you, Lilah, or are you simply apprehensive about leaving me?”

  “Yes. Yes, Papa,” she said, partially for Tabor’s sake. Finding it easy to blame him for all the turmoil in her head, she gave him a quick and loathsome glance. “Since that man, Joe Han, got into the house, I’ve wondered if I shouldn’t stay home.”

  Clement considered what she said. “If
I thought there was any danger of that happening again, I believe I’d feel better if you were away.”

  Lilah felt another slip in her composure. That line of defense had gotten her nowhere. “You’re sure Ching has taken care of the problem?”

  “One of the guards fell asleep. I’m sure that won’t happen again even if the man has to poke pins in himself to stay awake. Don’t you worry about me or Damon House. Go with Tabor. Have yourself an adventure.” He smiled and leaned forward for Lilah’s kiss.

  As Lilah hugged her father, over his shoulder she saw Tabor’s smirking face. Of course Papa didn’t intend it, but she was being manipulated by both him and that black-hearted rogue who worked such mayhem in her life. Once again, just for an instant, she considered telling Papa the truth. She relented. She did have to go. Papa wasn’t as well as he insisted. He didn’t need the shock Tabor held in store for him should she refuse.

  * * *

  As Lilah sat astride Darling and rode beside Tabor on the chestnut gelding her father had lent him, the reality of her plight took hold. Tabor rode as if he were born to the saddle, completely at home on a horse, which was more than she could say for herself. Green meadows and tall pines rolled by, and here and there a naked hill rose up in the distance. Little plumes of red dust floated out behind the horses’ hooves. In the distance the shadowy reaches of higher hills stretched toward the clouds. More often than not, Lilah found herself engrossed in memorizing the lines of Tabor’s profile rather than in studying the landscape. One was as strong and rugged as the other, though Tabor’s face, as she recalled, could grow soft and sensitive at times.

  And when it did, his stormy eyes went gentle, his voice husky and low. It rather pleased her to know she had the power to bring about that change in him. How wonderful it would be if she could be Delilah, only Delilah, and do and feel exactly as she pleased. Ripples of excitement flowed through her at the thought of it. Lilah gasped softly as she acknowledged that what had prompted her wishful thinking was desire. That she felt it for a man who wanted her only to prove a point nettled her to no end. But even that didn’t stop the uncoiling of her longing for him.