She had just reached chapter four when she heard a crash from downstairs, and her heart lurched in her chest. Someone was in the shop. She knew full well the door was locked—she always checked it three times at night before climbing the stairs, and there was no chance that it had blown open and that a dog or some other innocent creature was bumbling around down there. Another crash, and then another—it sounded like her dishes were being thrown onto the floor.
She grabbed the edge of her blanket and squeezed it tight, trying to decide what to do. When he and Regina married, Jake had given Ariadne a pistol and told her to keep it in her nightstand. He didn’t want her there without some protection. Could she remember how to use it, though? He’d given her a lesson, but now she could barely remember it. She reached toward the drawer and pulled it open, her hands trembling. She had to try.
With the pistol between her two hands, she crept to the door of her bedroom and toward the staircase that led to the shop. Maybe if she was very quiet, whoever it was would grow tired of destroying her business and would leave, and she’d be safe. Then she became angry. Who would do such a thing? Who would break into her shop, essentially her home, and act so maliciously? No, she wasn’t going to stand for it. She and her sister had worked hard to create what they had, and while it was humble and not very grand, she would not give it up so easily.
She moved halfway down the stairs. A single lantern stood on the counter. She could see the shadowy figure of a man moving over to the tables, ripping off the tablecloths, upending the chairs. She had no idea who it was—she didn’t know if he’d ever been into the shop, and if he was a stranger to her, why on earth was he targeting her now?
“Stop!” she cried out.
He froze, but then he chuckled and tipped one of the tables over.
“I have a gun,” she said, holding it up into position. She didn’t know if he could see it in the gloomy room, but she held it aloft anyway, wanting to prove that she was speaking the truth.
“So do I, lady.” He chuckled again and grabbed the next table. Suddenly, all his humor was gone, and he picked up a chair and brought it down across a table with all his might. The chair splintered, and he threw it in her direction. She flinched as it hit the bannister and bounced off it.
She didn’t know if she could do this—she was shaking so badly, she could hardly pull back the hammer. But she knew she had to—this was her home, her livelihood. She shot once, hoping to warn him.
It warned him—and it angered him. He charged toward her, holding a table leg aloft, and she didn’t have time to prepare another shot.
***
“Wendell. Wendell!”
Wendell opened his eyes and saw the anxious face of Miss Chapel leaning over his bed. It was late—and she was in his bedroom. It was too difficult to understand in his sleepy state. “What’s going on?”
“You need to get over to the tea shop right away. Ariadne’s in danger.”
Fear coursed through Wendell’s chest and down his arms as he threw back the covers. “What kind of danger?”
“Take your pistol. And hurry!”
The angel disappeared, and Wendell grabbed for his trousers and shoes. He’d never dressed so quickly in his life, and he dropped his left shoe twice before he managed to pull it on. None of that mattered, though. None of it. All he could think about was Ariadne. He had to get to her side. Holster in hand, grateful he’d brought it home with him, he dashed out the door, praying that whatever it was, he’d be on time.
***
Ariadne brought the pistol back up, courage filling her just as she thought she had none left. She wouldn’t stand for this—she might be bludgeoned there on her own staircase, but she would know she’d done everything she could.
The assailant took another step closer, table leg raised.
“Drop it,” came a voice from the doorway. A deep voice, a familiar one.
Her assailant turned, and his arm lowered, the table leg clattering to the floor. Mr. Thurgood stood there, a pistol leveled at chest height, and his hand was not shaking. In fact, he seemed almost supernaturally calm. Ariadne held her gun up as well, although her knees were sagging with relief.
“I have a message for you, Mr. Thurgood,” the man said, kicking one of the discarded tables out of the way. “You’re to keep your promises, you hear? This was a warning.”
“A warning? From who?” Mr. Thurgood demanded to know.
“Just a warning. For future.” The man spun on his heel, grabbed Ariadne’s arm, and knocked the gun from her hands. She had no time to react—he moved quickly, and she was jerked off her feet and thrown onto the floor before she could even process what was happening. Then he turned and ducked through the side door out into the alley, the door she had never unlocked even once the whole time she’d been a tenant there. She’d forgotten that door even existed.
Mr. Thurgood was at her side in an instant, crouching near her head. He lifted her into a sitting position and gently touched the bruise that was forming on her cheek from landing on the floor so abruptly. “Are you all right, Miss Stoker? Did he hurt you?”
“Just a bit, but no, I’m all right.” She looked up into his eyes, which were so filled with concern. “Do you suppose you could call me Ariadne now?”
He laughed and held her a little closer. “Yes, I could likely manage that.”
She wrapped her fingers around his lapel. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my entire life as I was to see you.”
“I’m sure the fact that I’m armed helped with that.”
She leaned back and looked into his face again. “No, I mean you. In that moment when he was coming at me and I thought he was going to strike me down, I only had one thought—I wanted to see you.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers, gently at first, and then with all the feeling of a man who loved and cared for and cherished her. She had never felt so safe, so beautiful, so complete in her entire life. She wished she could stay there forever, on the floor, surrounded by destruction and chaos, but in his arms—the most wonderful place in the world—but then she heard voices, and a few men from town burst into the room. She wondered briefly why it had taken them so long to come, but then she realized that what had felt like several minutes to her had probably elapsed much quicker.
Wendell released her from the embrace, which she supposed was the proper thing to do under the circumstances, and helped her stand up. All the chairs were smashed, so he led her over to the staircase, where she could sit.
“What happened?” Otto asked, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the mess.
“Wade broke in and did all this,” Wendell replied. “He said it was a message for me, then he ran out through the back door.”
“A message for you?” Edwin shook his head. “What kind of message?”
“I’m really not sure,” Wendell said. “Any idea where KC is?”
“Here. Sorry—I was out south of town on a case today and just rode in.” KC entered and surveyed the room just as the others had done. “I’m going to need statements from the two of you as quickly as possible. Miss Stoker, are you injured?”
She shook her head. “Just rattled and a little bruised.”
KC turned to Otto. “Ride out and get her sister, would you?”
Otto nodded and disappeared.
The next hour was nothing but chaos. Ariadne answered all the questions as best as she could while Edwin picked up tables and tried to set things to rights. Wendell stayed by her side, not touching her, but lending his quiet support. She didn’t think she’d ever forget that moment—seeing him there in the doorway having come to save her, the relief that washed over her, the way it felt to be in his arms. She had never expected him to be a hero—he was so mellow, so mild that she didn’t think he had it in him, but he had been her tower of strength in her moment of need, and she still tingled from her memory of that kiss. It was almost hard to answer KC’s questions, she was so distracted.
“What do you need me to do, KC?”
KC looked grim. “Can you and a few other men from the ranch ride out at first light? We need to get Wade back in custody as soon as possible, and I’d like to get my hands on that so-called lawyer of his, too.”
Jake nodded. “On it.” He turned to Regina. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Be safe,” she called out, and he slipped through the door.
Then she turned back to Ariadne. “I think you need to get to bed.”
All the excitement had kept Ariadne going, but now that Regina mentioned bed, her energy drained, and she realized how exhausted she was. Weakness descended on her like a tidal wave, and she nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Regina looked over at KC. “Do you need her for anything more?”
“Not right now. I’ll probably have more questions later, but she should sleep.”
Regina slid her arm under Ariadne’s and helped her stand, but Ariadne paused. “Wait,” she said, holding her hand toward Wendell. He stood from the one unbroken chair where he’d been sitting and crossed the room, taking her fingers and squeezing them.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and he grinned.
“I’ll see you later,” he replied.
As soon as the two sisters were upstairs, Regina all but plunked Ariadne down on the bed. “All right, young lady, what on earth is going on? Did I just see sparks flying between the two of you?”
Ariadne grinned. “Um, yes, you did.”
Regina sat down and shook her head. “What on earth …? One minute, you’re going off to dinner with the landlord, and the next, the shop is being vandalized and you’re all bruised, and Otto’s banging on the door and scaring me half to death, and I get here and find you flirting with Mr. Thurgood? I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused in my life.”
“I’m confused too, but I think it’s mostly in a good way. Help me with my buttons, will you, and I’ll explain while I change. I’m so tired, I can hardly move.”
Regina helped Ariadne reach her buttons, then while Ariadne put on her nightgown and brushed out her hair, she relayed everything that had happened—dinner, the altercation with Thomas Wells at the restaurant, and the break-in. It was difficult to talk about those terrifying moments as she’d seen the furniture destroyed and realizing that she was in danger personally, but as she spoke of Wendell’s arrival, she smiled, then laughed, and Regina was absolutely dumbfounded.
“And then he kissed me—”
“He kissed you?” Regina’s hands stopped moving in the middle of hanging up Ariadne’s dress. “Are you engaged, then?”
“No, but I believe he’s going to ask, and when he does, I’m going to say yes.” Joy bubbled up in Ariadne’s chest when she said it, and the startled look on Regina’s face made her laugh all the more.
“I’m happy for you—I really am,” Regina said. “I’m just so surprised.”
“I am too,” Ariadne confessed. “But I see all of him now—his mellowness and his strength both. His intelligence and his wit. And I know beyond any doubting that he will never hurt me. I can trust him without any reservation, and I need that.”
“That’s what I need for you too.” Regina laid the dress on the bed, then wrapped her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “If he’s everything you say he is, I’m very happy for you indeed.”
***
No solid evidence. No proof. No leads, nothing KC could use to figure out just what had happened at the tea shop that night. Wendell walked home, all but dragging his weary body. All they knew was that Wade had broken in and vandalized the shop, leaving a cryptic message. Wendell felt in his heart that it was from Thomas Wells, but his heart wasn’t evidence. He kicked at a rock in his path and watched it skitter off. He’d take Mr. Wells’ contract to Bernard Newell the next day and see if there was any way out of it—he didn’t want to be tied to that property for another second.
It was time to think of something more positive, and he knew what that something positive should be. He’d dreamed for weeks of taking Ariadne into his arms, and she’d fit there just as perfectly as he’d imagined.
“I’m going to miss you.”
He didn’t even stumble in surprise as Miss Chapel popped up beside him. It seemed that very little surprised him these days. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m afraid I must. My task here is done, and there are other lost souls desperate for my help. I’ll always remember you, Wendell. And I believe I’ll think on you as one of my favorite assignments ever.”
He’d found her annoying at first, but now, at the thought of her leaving, he realized that he’d grown quite fond of her. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Miss Chapel. Wherever you’re going next, they’re lucky to have you.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” She looped her arm through his. “You really are, you know, and Ariadne sees it all now. She knows what kind of man you are inside and out, and you did that without my help.”
“If you hadn’t woken me up, she might have been killed,” Wendell pointed out.
“I guess I did do that,” she agreed. “But you did most of the rest of it on your own, and I’m proud of you. You just needed a little nudge in the right direction.” She paused, and he stopped walking as well. “Oh, gracious. Look at me. I’m getting all teary.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Promise me that you’ll take good care of each other.”
“I promise,” Wendell said, meaning it with all his heart.
“Then you’ll live happily ever after. That’s how it’s done, you know. Goodbye, Wendell. All my best wishes for you.” With those last words, she faded away, and he was left standing by himself along the side of the road.
He’d miss that annoying guardian angel, no doubt about it.
Chapter Twelve
Bernard Newell had read over the contract at least three times, but he hadn’t yet made a comment. Wendell was growing edgy. He needed information—he wanted a solution.
At last, Bernard set the paper on Wendell’s desk. “It’s ironclad,” he said. “Unless there’s some sort of illegal activity involved with the purchase of these properties, you are obligated to uphold your end.”
Wendell sighed. “The land was purchased with cash, and everything was done through the proper channels.”
“Then as much as you dislike Mr. Wells, you’ll have to stomach him just long enough to fulfill this contract.”
Wendell stood up and walked over to the window. He’d wondered what Miss Chapel had seen when she looked out, but now he realized, it gave him a chance to think, a little mental space. “What did he mean when he said that he’d do what he had to do, and that his feelings for Ariadne wouldn’t stop him? Isn’t that nearly a confession of hiring Wade to vandalize the tea shop?”
“You could see it that way, but without any evidence—”
“I know, I know,” Wendell interrupted with a sigh. “I had the same conversation with KC this morning. Wade’s so-called message, Mr. Wells’ so-called confession—all of it is coincidental and wouldn’t hold up in a court of law. And of course Wade’s so-called lawyer has completely vanished, and now so has Wade. So much conjecture, so little fact.”
“If I were you, I’d concentrate on what you do know, and move forward with that. You know that you’re not beholden to Mr. Wells for anything besides the fulfillment of this contract, and that will be simple. You also know that without evidence of his guilt, there’s no reason for him to try to harass you. If he was the one who sent Wade, it was an attempt to intimidate you, and he’s not foolish enough to try that again. In fact, I’m rather surprised that he tried it in the first place. It seems like a juvenile tactic to me.”
“Me too, but I didn’t want to seem rude by saying so.”
The two men chuckled, then Bernard came to his feet. “Hold the course, Wendell. Business as usual, let K
C do his job, and this will all come out in the end.”
“I hope so,” Wendell replied. “I certainly hope so.” And in the meantime, he was going to let Royce Clark know that someone had an eye on the Circle C.
***
Perhaps he was rushing things. Perhaps he would scare her away. Perhaps a million different things would go wrong, but the fact was, Wendell knew he couldn’t wait another minute. Coming so close to losing Ariadne two days before had driven him nearly to distraction, and he needed one thing about his future to be resolved—one very important thing, the most important thing of all.
Ariadne rode beside him in the buggy, a blindfold loosely tied around her eyes. “Where are you taking me?” she asked with a laugh.
“I can’t possibly tell you. It would ruin the whole point of the blindfold.”
He turned the buggy to cross over the bridge that spanned the narrow creek, and she said, “I think I know where we are.”
“Then you should forget that you know. This is meant to be a surprise.”
“All right,” she said comfortably. “I’ll just settle in here and wait. I’m trying to be patient. Yes, that’s the truth—this is me being patient. So, so patient.”
He chuckled, loving how she never let him get away with anything.
After a few more minutes, he brought the buggy to a halt, came around, helped her down, and then removed the blindfold from her eyes. He had brought her to an empty lot that was forested on three sides with the road on the fourth side, and the creek ran through the southwest corner. The grasses and bushes were so green, it was if they had all been painted that way.
The best part, though, were the thousands of butterflies that had made this acreage their home.
Ariadne gasped. “American Ladies! And monarchs! And look—there’s a black swallowtail!”
“You’ve been reading the books I brought you,” Wendell said, pleased.
Loving the Landlord Page 9