Indigo Sky

by Ingis, Gail

  A shot rang out.

  Chapter 25

  Hank spun and fell like a skittle.

  Alex stood a short distance away, a smoking revolver in his hand. “Seems I arrived in the nick of time.”

  “Dear God.” Leila cried and ran to Hank, falling to her knees. Hesitating, she leaned down, putting her ear to his mouth. “I think he’s breathing.”

  The driver’s eyes dilated. “Bugger me!” He leapt from the buggy and ran.

  “What happened?” Sissy poked her head out the carriage window and emitted a piercing scream. “Hank!” The carriage door flew open, and she raced to his side. “My poor man, what have they done to you?” She sagged to the ground in a billow of blue satin and lace, grasping Hank’s hand.

  “Your lover was shot, dear,” Rork drawled and walked to Alex. “You saved our lives, my friend. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Always thought the prick was deranged.” Alex smiled grimly and stuffed the revolver into his belt. “Who is the redhead bawling like a banshee?”

  Rork jerked his head toward Hank. “His mistress. What was he doing here anyway? I had no idea he was an associate of yours.”

  “He’s not, and I have no idea why he came calling.”

  “Rork,” Leila cried. “I think Hank is alive.”

  “Well, he would be,” Alex drawled. “Only shot the fool in the shoulder.”

  “Oh.” Leila turned back to Hank. “Perhaps we should get him inside.”

  Alex laughed. “I’m not coddling that cur in my house. Toss him into the carriage. His slut can drive him to a hospital.”

  Hank grabbed Leila’s cape with a bloodied hand. “Listen to me,” he said hoarsely. “I deserved this.”

  Leila took off her cape and stuffed it under his head. “You need to keep still, Hank.”

  “I haven’t treated you well. Please forgive me.”

  “I forgive you.”

  He reached up and grabbed her hand, leaving a blood smear. “Does that mean you won’t divorce me?”

  “Why, because you’ve been shot, Hank? You threatened to shoot us.” She shook her head. “I want a divorce more than ever now. And you need help with your addictions.”

  Groaning, he reached up and pulled her head down, capturing her mouth.

  She jerked away and glanced at Sissy, who glared at her. Leila wiped her mouth. “Your mistress will attend to your needs.”

  “I don’t want the bitch!” he whined, clutching at Leila’s bodice. “I want you. I’ve always loved you. You love me, too. I know you do.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong. You killed any love I had for you.” Leila sneered. “I cannot abide your abusive behavior and dissipated lifestyle.” She tried to peel his fingers off her bodice. “Let me go, Hank.”

  “I’ll change, Leila. I swear.”

  She rose and glared down at him. “I’ve heard that before. You’ll never change. Marry Sissy, or don’t. I couldn’t care less anymore what you do with her. Just sign the divorce papers.”

  Hank grabbed the hem of Leila’s dress. “Please, darlin’, don’t divorce me, I beg you.” He scowled at Sissy. “Go away. Piss off, bitch! You ruined my life.”

  Sissy rocked back on her heels. “I am the one who stood behind you through all the hard times.”

  He wrapped his arm around her legs and pulled her feet out from under her, sending her onto her back. “I said piss off!” Again, he squirmed toward Leila. “Don’t leave me . . . please.”

  Leila stepped out of his reach.

  Sissy scrambled to her knees. She grabbed Hank’s gun, her face contorted with rage. “You treacherous bastard!” She leveled the gun at his head and fired then swung the weapon to Leila. “Now you die, you sniveling bitch!”

  Rork lunged forward and grabbed Sissy’s arm, twisting the gun from her hand. With an upward thrust, he jabbed his elbow into her jaw, knocking her senseless.

  Alex put an arm around Leila. “Don’t look, honey.”

  Leila’s breath escaped in labored gasps. She pressed a fist into her mouth. “This is my fault.” She stared at the bloody mess that was Hank’s face.

  “Don’t talk nonsense, Leila,” Alex said, guiding her to his manse. “How could you possibly have known she’d shoot Hank?”

  Tears snaked down her cheeks. “I’ve just witnessed the death of a great mind. Perhaps I should have stood by him, whatever the cost. Now Sissy’s life is also ruined.”

  “Who gives a damn, and you’re being silly, Leila. Those two engineered their own fate.”

  She tore away from his protective arms. “I can’t just walk away. He was my husband.” Leila brushed at her tears. “The least I can do is be with him,” she sobbed.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, the man is dead.”

  “You won’t understand,” she mumbled and hurried back. Kneeling beside Hank, she swallowed a sob and touched his lank, bloodstained hair, smoothing it back with trembling fingers.

  Binding Sissy’s wrists with his stock, Rork picked her up and carried her to the carriage.

  She revived and struggled against the strain of her bonds. “What happened? Let me go!”

  Rork dumped her on the seat. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart.” He slammed the door and strode back to Leila, lifting her and holding her against his chest. “I think you should go into the house with Alex, Leila.”

  For a moment, she snuggled against his broad chest, drawing strength from him and sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Please go. I’ll deal with this.”

  “How can you refer to Hank as this?”

  He held her close. “You’re overwrought. I’ll take Hank into town and make arrangements for his funeral and ensure Sissy is imprisoned.”

  Leila pushed Rork away. “They’ll hang her.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “She doesn’t deserve to hang.”

  “What are you suggesting, Leila?”

  She turned her back on Rork and whispered, “Let her go.”

  He took her arm and turned her to face him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’ve caused enough pain by asking for a divorce in the first place. I think she honestly loved him.”

  Alex approached, shaking his head. “As I said, honey, none of this is your fault.”

  Leila’s eyes went from Alex to Rork. “I still feel responsible.” Her eyes skittered to Hank’s corpse, and she shuddered. “Sissy has always been hotheaded.” She twisted her bloodied hands. “Can’t we say Hank took his own life?”

  Alex and Rork exchanged glances, and Rork shrugged. “If that’s what you really want.”

  Alex rubbed his cheek, his eyes resting on her. “Will it make you feel less responsible?”

  She nodded.

  “Right, then I’ll release her.” Rork walked to the carriage, opened the door, and untied Sissy’s bonds.

  “W-what is going on?” Sissy said, staring at him wide eyed, cringing against the seat cushions.

  “Leila wants to let you go. We’re telling the authorities Hank shot himself.” His eyes hardened. “I want you to stay out of her life. Do you understand me?”

  Sissy’s red curls bounced as she nodded. “I promise she’ll never see me again.”

  “Good.” Rork turned from the carriage, and Leila pushed past him, moving toward Sissy. He grabbed her arm. “Damn it, Leila, the woman just killed Hank.”

  Sissy leaned forward and grasped Leila’s hand. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to kill him. I swear.”

  “I know.”

  “Alex, could you ask one of your servants to find the driver, or perhaps we can use one of your men to take the body into town.”

  “I’ll call my driver. The less people involved, the better,” Alex
said and strode off to the stables.

  Leila ran after him. “Please send Sissy to town in another carriage.”

  Alex smiled. “You are too soft for your own good, madam, but I shall do as you ask.”

  Rork covered Hank’s mutilated face and guided a weeping Leila to the manse.

  “Thank you,” she said, her sobs muffled in a lace handkerchief.

  “I hope this act of kindness doesn’t come back to haunt us.”

  Chapter 26

  Rork stood on the patio of the mansion. Icicles hung from the eaves. Kansas City’s buildings were outlined against an angry sky. He walked down the steps and wiped a drop of icy water from his neck. Brave spears of green grass poked through melting snow. Catching a whiff of lavender and vanilla perfume, he turned slowly.

  Leila pulled her fur cape tighter around herself. “It’s still rather cold.”

  He nodded and took her hand, tucking it into his arm. Snow crunched underfoot as they walked. “We’ll be able to travel west in a few weeks.” The cold brought a pink bloom to Leila’s cheeks. She’d never looked lovelier to him. “Have you given more thought to marrying me?”

  She shook her head. “Hank’s death still haunts me.”

  Stopping, he turned and took her shoulders. “How long must I wait, Leila?” He suffered the sorrow in her eyes. “He’s been dead for months.”

  “I know, but I can’t help what I feel.”

  Rork released a long breath. How can I break this depression she seems to revel in? He touched her cheek. “I love you. I want to marry you before we head west.”

  A scowl marred her smooth forehead, and she brushed his hand away. “Don’t pressure me. Why can’t you leave me alone to grieve for my husband?”

  “For God’s sake, Leila, less than five months ago you were hell-bent on divorcing him. What’s going on with you?”

  “What’s going on with me? I’m grieving for my husband, that’s what’s going on.” She slapped his chest. “How can you be so insensitive?”

  He grabbed her hand. “How can you be so hypocritical?” She dropped her chin and sighed. His heart fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, you did.” She spun and ran back to the manse.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn, now I’ve gone and done it. I’m screwed.” Scowling, he watched her skirt agitate from left to right as she stormed up the steps and disappeared into the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets and milled about. “I need to make this right, but how do I get through to her?” He kicked clumps of snow. “Damn you, Hank. It was bad enough competing with you alive, but dead you’re an impossible fortress. I’m not going to let you win.”

  He took off at a run, boots pounding across the wooden patio floor and into the manse. Breathing heavily, he stopped at her suite door and knocked.

  “Go away!”

  “If you don’t open this damn door, I’ll break the thing down.” He strained to hear her muffled response.

  “Get out of my life!”

  He leaned against the oak door. “I’m sorry I called you a hypocrite, Leila. I’m angry that you won’t marry me and jealous of Hank’s memory that you cherish.”

  Movement, then silence.

  “Leila?” He turned the doorknob, and it swung open a fraction. It seemed to be blocked. Putting his shoulder to the door, he pushed harder. It gave suddenly. A squeak emitted from inside, and he stumbled through to see Leila fall on her backside in a welter of silk petticoats. He stared at her long legs and cotton bloomers edged with lace.

  Leila looked up at him, scowling. “Get out.”

  All reason fled.

  “No.” He bent, scooped her up, and carried her to the bed. The scent of her perfume and the heat from her body inflamed him. Laying her down, he held her wide-eyed gaze and slowly undid the buttons on her bodice.

  “I told you to get out,” she said, and yanked his fingers away.

  “You don’t mean it.”

  “I-I do . . .” Her sobs stoked the fire in him.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. She gazed into his eyes through the blur.

  “Rork, I love you, and I want you, but—” Letting those words out was like the first taste of something hot and delicious, as though it were a safe, secure secret that she didn’t have to share with anyone.

  “I am weary. I’m tired of rejecting you.” What harm is there in this? I want him. She closed her teary eyes and wrapped her arms around Rork’s neck. “I can’t make you any promises Rork. Will you allow me to mourn my way? If I do this, will you love me through my pain?”

  He nodded sagely. Leila loved his nod, for it had wisdom that spoke to her when she needed it.

  He put one hand on her nape and lifted her face to his, kissing her tenderly. “You enslave me.”

  He lost his breath. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

  The silk shirt fluttered down like snowflakes blowing in the wind.

  Chapter 27

  Rork gathered her in his arms. “My darling . . . I want you in my life, want you to be my wife.”

  She bit her lip.

  Sighing, he lay on his side, head propped up on his hand.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Will it be so onerous to marry me?”

  “Hank is barely cold in the ground, and I’m sleeping with another man.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Leila. He treated you like dirt, and you were filing for divorce.”

  She reached for her chemise and held it against herself. “I know, but somehow this is wrong.”

  He spread his hands. “What is wrong with us making love?” He reached for her, but she evaded him. “Damn it, the man didn’t honor his vows or even consummate the marriage.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What is it about dead people? Suddenly they were wonderful and flawless.”

  “I didn’t say that, but a brilliant mind died because I wanted my freedom.” Bitterness bled from her words.

  Rork threw his hands up. “Great, why don’t you just shoulder all the blame for his dissipated, substance-induced life?” He rose and donned his clothes. “I want to marry you, Leila. I love you, but I will not share you with a man whose ghost isn’t worthy of you.” He shoved his shirt into his trousers and glared at her. “When you’re done grieving for a complete prick, let me know.”

  He pulled on his boots and draped his jacket over his shoulder. “I’m going into town to make arrangements for my trip.” He turned at the door, and his heart tripped.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed. A tangle of wavy locks fell about her shoulders and reached to her waist. There was emptiness in her eyes as she stared at him, and her cheeks were still flushed from their lovemaking. He wanted to run back to her, gather her in his arms, and tell her to take as long as she needed. His mouth, and his resolve, however, strengthened. No. A damn ghost will not control me. He ripped the door open and strode out.

  Leila gathered her hair, pulled it over her shoulder and twisted it, and stared at Rork’s departing back. The door closed with a sharp click of finality. “Please don’t go,” she whispered. “What now?”

  She hugged herself, reliving his hands and mouth on her body. The fire of desire coursed through her. “I want him again.” Heat crept into her cheeks. She touched her fingers to her lips for a moment, as though she was measuring her thoughts. I am not disappointed that we made love. She closed her eyes to capture the image of her new self. She slid off the bed and drew the draperies aside.

  A full moon lit the garden below. Icicles sparkled and danced on the trees. Rork’s tall form crossed the icy terrain.

  Leila’s stomach churned, and heat surged through her again. Her head sagged. “I’m sorry our marriage didn’t work out, Hank. I’m sorry you died.” She ground her teeth a
nd slammed her fist down on the windowsill. Why do I feel so guilty? Rork is right. I am being silly, yet I can’t stop thinking I caused his death.

  She threw her head back and groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples. I knew Hank was unstable. She tussled with unresolved emotions. Why didn’t I choose a better moment to tell him I wanted the divorce papers signed?

  She glanced at an ornate rosewood clock on the mantel. The next hurdle—dinner with Rork. Alex offered Leila his maid to help her bathe and dress.

  “Thank you,” Leila murmured when her toilet was completed. The maid nodded and left. Leila stared at her reflection in the cheval mirror. I look the same, but I feel so different. She splashed perfume on her neck and wrists and smoothed the pale green dress with overlays of cream lace. The off-the-shoulder décolletage revealed her cleavage in a froth of lace. Her thoughts caressed Rork, raising goosebumps on her skin. Spinning, she walked out. I will not let him dominate my thoughts. The hem of her skirt whispered against the wooden floor as she walked into the drawing room, head held high.

  Rork stood with his back to the fire, legs wide and hands behind his back. His eyes held her captive, and his wide mouth tightened into a hard line.

  Alex smiled. “Ah, here you are, honey.” He poured sherry into a crystal glass and handed it to her. “Cook said the meal is delayed.”

  “I’m not that hungry,” she murmured, trying to escape Rork’s intense eyes. Her hand shook, and her sherry spilled onto a Persian carpet. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Alex waved the apology away. “You seem out of sorts, honey.”

  “I-I don’t feel very well.”

  “Shall I send for a physician?”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. “No, I’m just a little indisposed.”