In the Arms of a Cowboy

by Pam Crooks

“He kept the grounds for me at the Parlor House. He worked for me as bouncer, too, when I needed him. I trusted him as much as Luann. After I left for Mexico, he took a job at sea, but returned a couple of years later. Reginald hired him when you were but a toddler. It was my good fortune, and Pierre’s, that your father didn’t remember him.”

  “Pierre kept in touch with you while you were in Mexico?” Trig asked, dark brows knitted in consternation.

  “Yes. He visited me whenever he could. It was through him that I learned more of Reginald’s dealings. And, of course, he would bring me news about little Carleigh.”

  “What happened after you arrived in Mexico?” Carleigh asked.

  “I went to the only place I thought would take me in. A brothel in Tijuana. I used my time there to plot a way to have you back in my arms. But I underestimated your father. He was far too cunning, even for me.” She fell silent, and Carleigh knew she relived the devastations from her past. “He bribed the Mexican authorities to have me sent to Belén on charges I murdered one of my patrons at the brothel.”

  “Esteban set you up, didn’t he?” Trig asked, grim.

  Taken aback, Belle’s glance shot to him. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “You called him Jorge, so I knew your relationship had once been friendly.” A corner of Trig’s mouth lifted. “And I had a hunch he knew who you were when we arranged this meeting.”

  “He was one of my patrons at the time. I never suspected he would betray me. Of course, Reginald paid him well for his trouble.”

  “Chandler knew him? Even then?”

  “Yes. Even then.”

  “How?” Carleigh asked.

  “Opium. A very lucrative drug. Addicting, even for those who don’t use it.”

  Shock rolled through Carleigh. Opium? How deep did Papa’s involvement go? How much wider would the door shielding his secrets open?

  What else did he hide?

  “So Chandler knew you learned about his involvement with opium. He arranged to have you sent to Belén through Esteban,” Trig said.

  “Yes.” Belle’s expression darkened. “Once a woman is sent there, she is rarely seen or heard from again.”

  “How did you survive it?” he asked, his low voice rough with compassion. With concern.

  “When I first arrived, I lost all hope of seeing my daughter again. I knew I would die there.” Her lashes lowered. “So I tried to take my life.” She held out her arms, revealed the scars across her wrists. “The guards rushed me to the infirmary, and the physician there saved me. He convinced me that if I became his mistress, he would arrange it so I could stay and work as his nurse.” She shrugged. “I am not ashamed at what I had to do.”

  Voices seeped into the room, and her head snapped up. A flash of panic crossed her features.

  “Is it time?” Belle demanded.

  “Yes,” Trig said, checking his watch. “One hour has passed.”

  “There is much I must yet say.” Belle bolted to her feet, frantically gathered her mementoes of Carleigh’s childhood back into the envelope.

  “When can I see you again?” Carleigh asked, her own panic rising. “Tomorrow? The next day?”

  “Jorge tells me I must leave at dawn to return to Belén.”

  “I can’t let you go,” Carleigh said. Tears burned the back of her eyes. “One hour is not enough.”

  “Not near enough, my darling.” She stuffed the envelope back into her skirt pocket. Stumbling over her chains, Belle hurried to retrieve the cloak on the floor and swept it once more over her shoulders.

  “What can I do?” Carleigh asked, voice quivering. She rose, her gaze clinging to her mother. “I can’t go back to San Francisco and leave you in Belén. Not now.”

  “You must listen to me. Both of you.” Her fingers worked at the clasp, and her voice lowered to a whisper. Trig and Carleigh stepped closer to hear, and it was Trig’s gaze Belle implored. “Reginald has always demanded the very best for Carleigh. If he has hired you, then I know you are skilled at what you do. I must trust you as she does.”

  “I’m listening,” Trig said.

  “A large amount of opium is expected from Macau. Several hundred thousand dollars’ worth. It must be intercepted before it hits the streets.”

  “Jesus,” Trig muttered. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She cast a furtive glance at the door, at the sounds growing louder in the hall. “Deals are made behind prison walls, just as they are done on the outside. I have learned to keep my eyes and ears open.”

  “And you think Esteban is involved?”

  “He is a field trader in a complex drug syndicate. He has connections with a broker, an American confederate who arranges for the opium to be smuggled into America.”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  “No. His identity is a well-guarded secret. But the shipment is destined for San Francisco. It will arrive via a secret bay called ‘Taku.’”

  “So Chandler could be involved, too.”

  “Yes. Through him, the law will close its eyes to the opium, as if it never arrived.” She clutched his arm, beseeching him to heed her well. “These men must pay for their crimes of greed, Trig. Too many innocents have suffered.”

  A key grated in the lock’s mortise. Belle tossed the hood over her head. She grabbed her cane from the floor.

  Green eyes welling with tears and sadness, she turned to Carleigh. “Now you know the truth about your father and me,” she said. “It is why he never wanted you to see me, so that you would always believe his lies.”

  “But--.”

  “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You must never forget that.”

  By the time Esteban opened the door, Belle had transformed herself once more into a sickly-looking hag, and before Carleigh could prevent it, her mother was gone.

  Chapter 16

  He was too late.

  He’d waited beneath the staff stairwell near their room for an eternity. And with every passing minute, every crawling hour, Liko began to realize he was too damned late.

  Carleigh found her mother.

  She was with her now.

  He had failed.

  A cold sweat broke out on his skin.

  After he completed his business at the dock, he’d rushed to the Hotel Brewster and discreetly inquired on her whereabouts. No one knew where she was. They hadn’t seen her or Mathison since they left the pharmacy earlier that morning.

  And now Liko knew where they were.

  He wanted to vomit.

  Reginald would be furious with him at his failure to outsmart Mathison.

  He would pay the consequences.

  Worse, Mathison knew he’d killed his baby-faced brother. Liko had seen the shock of recognition when he tried to escape with Carleigh. A few more minutes, and he would have done it.

  A mistake, letting himself get caught.

  Liko’s head rolled back against the stairwell’s wall.

  He would pay those consequences, too.

  Footsteps approached, and he tensed. The Mexican, Cruz-Garcia, appeared, out of breath.

  “Senor. They are in the elevator now. They will return to their room very soon.”

  It didn’t matter. Not anymore.

  He delved into a pocket. The money-hungry Mexican would think he’d be paid for the information. Instead, Liko’s fingers closed around his knife.

  He had no need of him any longer.

  The blade plunged deep into Cruz-Garcia’s chest. Liko waited until the gurgling sounds stopped before he dragged the body into a dark corner and fled the hotel.

  “Do you realize I never even touched her?” Carleigh’s hushed voice reached out to Trig across their hotel room. “Or spoke her name.”

  She heaved a loud sigh and strode toward the window overlooking San Diego Bay. She pressed her forehead to the glass and sighed again.

  Neither of them had spoken since leaving the Tijuana prison. Dark thoughts kept conversation at bay. Now, the truth in her words
pulled at him. He felt her anguish as if they were his own.

  Whatever they expected of Belle upon meeting her, her experiences over the years cut deep. What woman deserved all she’d endured?

  Yet she had survived. Her determination to see Carleigh again infused her with the will to go on.

  She was one hell of a woman. And she’d had one hell of a story to tell.

  “If it’s true what she said about Papa, about the opium and the briberies he’s taken, then . . ..” Carleigh’s voice trailed off.

  “Then what?” Trig asked, watching her.

  She turned. “Then he’ll have to pay the consequences, won’t he?”

  “Yes.” But Trig dreaded the day. For Carleigh’s sake, and in spite of the revenge on Chandler he’d been driven to seek, he dreaded it. “Are you ready for that, Carleigh?” he asked quietly.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “You’re determined to bring him to justice, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t you think he deserves it?”

  Her eyes closed. “Yes,” she whispered. Those blue eyes opened again, this time with an icy flash. “But I must first find out if everything my mother says is true. I must see the evidence for myself.”

  That was only fair. There was always the chance Belle’s accusations were simply those of a scorned, bitter woman and not to be believed.

  But Chandler’s involvement in smuggling schemes had long been suspected by the Customs Service. A corrupt San Francisco police force kept proof elusive. Trig’s instincts insisted she spoke the truth.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was a prostitute?” she asked.

  He grew wary of the sudden change of topic. Of the chill in her tone.

  “Lots of reasons,” he hedged.

  “Such as?”

  “You had enough to deal with just learning your mother was alive. I figured you’d find out the prostitute part soon enough.” He hesitated. “And you were so full of resentment for me and your father, I didn’t want to hurt you any more than you’d already been.”

  “Don’t you think I was entitled to know?”

  “Yes, but--.”

  “It doesn’t matter she was a prostitute or that she’d been forced to be some man’s mistress. Once, it would have. But not anymore.” She drew in a quavery breath. “Oh, Trig. How did she do it? How did she get from one day to the next after all Papa put her through?”

  “Sheer guts. Hate for your father. And an undying love for you.”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “All those things.”

  “In their own way, your parents did what they thought was best for you. You grew up without the stigma her profession represents to society. They were protecting you from themselves.”

  Suddenly, she swung her head. Her eyes flashed lightening blue. “Well, I’m fully grown now. I’m an independent woman, and I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

  “You wouldn’t be here in San Diego now if you couldn’t.”

  “Don’t humor me.”

  He blinked. He’d never seen her so riled.

  “You might as well know I’ve made another decision.” She strode toward him and stopped, chin set. “I refuse to let my mother return to Belén.”

  Warning bells clamored in his head. “And?”

  “She said Esteban is sending her back at dawn tomorrow.”

  He waited, knowing what she was going to say and holding his breath from it.

  “I intend to kidnap her before he does.”

  “Jesus, Carleigh.”

  “We can wait at the dock here in San Diego. I saw the ship they brought her in. A one-masted sloop. We’ll be ready for them before she ever sets foot on it.”

  His brow raised. “We?”

  “That’s right. You and me.”

  His loins warmed. This bold new side of her was damned erotic.

  “If you choose not to help me, then I’ll kidnap her without you,” she added.

  Amusement swept through him. “All by yourself.”

  “I’ll convince Gif to help me.”

  The humor evaporated. “Gif?”

  His friend would be rash enough to agree to the scheme. With or without him. For sheer spite against Chandler and his years of illicit dealings.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be to kidnap her?” he demanded. “You’d find yourself sharing a cell with her in Belén. Not even your father could bail you out then.”

  “That’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

  “Esteban won’t give her up. Not with the secrets she holds. He’ll have her under heavy guard. It’s a crazy, fool idea.”

  “Do you think I’m going to let her go back”--she snapped her fingers--“just like that? After only an hour? With all we’ve gone through to get her here?”

  Trig scowled. He wasn’t that stupid. “We can petition the Mexican court to have her sentence commuted. I know some good lawyers.”

  “So does Papa. A whole slew of them, I suspect.”

  She had him there. Shyster lawyers, years on his payroll. Each one dirty.

  “We have to follow proper procedure,” he persisted. “Due process of the law.”

  “Due process.” She sniffed in disgust. “Look where that got her.”

  “It’s your father’s manipulation of the law which failed her.”

  She glared. “Don’t you know I’m realizing that?”

  He glared back.

  But his mind emptied of further arguments; instead his brain raced ahead, formulated a plan before he could think to stop it.

  “Dawn, eh?” he muttered, rubbing his chin.

  “Yes.” Excitement danced in her eyes. “Gif will help us. I know he will. We’ll ask him.”

  “Hell. You’re full of decisions tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her voice had softened. Her mahogany head cocked as she considered him. The icy depths of her eyes heated to a sultry blue. “There’s one more decision I’ve made that I haven’t told you about.”

  Instantly wary all over again, his gaze fastened over her. “What now?”

  She moved closer, gripped the front of his shirt in both fists.

  And pulled him with her toward the bed.

  “I’m going to make love with you tonight,” she said.

  Surprise shot through him. His loins flamed fierce and hot.

  She tugged and twisted him until the back of his knees hit the mattress, and splaying her hands across his chest, she pushed him backward on top. As stunned as he was, she could have used a feather.

  “What-why-are you sure?” he stammered.

  “Very sure.” She swept aside her skirts and climbed over him, his hips between her knees, her arms braced on either side of him. Looking down, her rosy lips pursed. “I’ve been thinking of it for some time now. More so since we left Tijuana.”

  Her tone held all the seriousness and determination of the decision she’d made to kidnap her mother, and he knew she hadn’t made this one lightly. Her head lowered, and she touched her mouth to his. Tentative and brief, offering a hint of what was to come and containing enough power to send his libido exploding.

  “Hell, I’m always thinking of it.” His hands lifted to her waist, and he reversed their positions to straddle her instead. “I’m warning you, though, Carleigh. Tonight won’t be like Visalia. We’re not going to be wild and fast, and I’m not going to dispense with the preliminaries. When I make love to you, I’m going to take my time. You’re going to learn how pleasurable lovemaking can be for a woman.”

  Her mouth softened. “There’s no other man I’d rather experience that with than you.” Her expression turned serious again. “I love you, Trig.”

  His breath hitched; his manhood swelled, leapt to life.

  “I don’t know how it happened or even whether it should have,” she continued, frowning. Her fingers stroked his cheek, slid into his hair. “Nor do I know what will happen to us after tomorrow. I only know I want you with
my whole being. I want you now.”

  Carleigh watched the play of emotions on his handsome face. Had she been too honest? Would he only push her away now that he knew the depth of her feelings?

  A slight tremor went through him. “I want you, too. God, but I’ve never wanted a woman like I want you.”

  He captured her mouth with lips hot and hungry. He eased his body full length onto her, and Carleigh circled her arms about his neck.

  She purred at his throaty admission, at the feel of his long, hard frame pressing her deeper into the mattress. The delicious weight only intensified her need to know him more fully than their night of passion in Visalia.

  Her lips parted easily beneath his tender onslaught. She knew the taste of him now, craved the primitive mating dance of their tongues. A slow burn of desire flickered deep between her legs.

  He breathed her name, dragged his mouth across her cheek and into the curve of her neck. His wet tongue flicked across her skin; his teeth nipped and teased. Tingles of sensation raised on her skin.

  But he drew away when she wanted him to go on nuzzling her forever. He took her hand and pulled her gently from the bed.

  “One of the first pleasures of lovemaking is feeling plenty of warm, bare skin.” His fingers lifted to the buttons at her throat. Within moments, the front of her dress fell open.

  She resisted the urge to pull it closed again and peered at him through her lashes. A demure smile hugged her lips. “I seem to recall skipping that step the last time.”

  “To my great and lasting regret. But not tonight.”

  He pulled the dress down, one shoulder then the other, and it sagged at her waist. Another tug, and the fabric slid downward into a heap.

  He knelt and removed her shoes. His hand slid beneath her chemise, and he released a stocking from its garter, then slowly, so slowly that the intimate brush of his palms along the inside of her thigh and calf left her breathless at his boldness, he eased the diaphanous material off her foot.

  After doing the same with the other stocking, Carleigh stood before him in only her chemise. The thin fabric hid little from his scrutiny, and an involuntary shiver went through her.

  “You must realize, kind sir, no one has seen me naked in a good long time.” She reached for the buttons on his shirt with fingers not quite steady. “Not even Luann.”