“What kind of information were you looking for? I know you don’t like Luke—”
“It’s not that.” Ben grimaced. “I’ve just had a feeling that something wasn’t right. He doesn’t come across like a banker type.”
“He never said he was in banking.”
“Maybe not, but when you described how quick he was with his gun, it got me to thinking. And that got me to asking questions.”
A part of Abby wanted to bury her head under the pillow and refuse to listen to any more. Another part couldn’t stand not knowing. “So…what did you find out?”
“He’s a gunslinger.”
“Just because he shoots fast? This is the West, Ben. There’re a lot of cowboys who can do that.”
Her brother shook his head. “He’s a gun-for-hire.”
She stared at him. “How do you know that? I doubt saloon patrons are the most reliable sources of information.”
“I didn’t just take their word. I spent most of the day sending telegrams and waiting for answers.”
“To whom?”
“I have my sources.” Ben smiled tightly. “You learn a lot, spending two years in prison.”
“Good Lord, Ben. You’re associating with criminals?”
“Are you forgetting we’re criminals too?”
“Were. Were. Not anymore.” She grabbed him. “I don’t want you doing getting back into that.”
“I’m not. Don’t worry.” Ben gently pried her fingers from his arm. “Let’s just say the wardens owed me a couple of favors.”
At least that was the other side of the law, but she didn’t really want to go into that, either. “So what did these telegrams say?”
“He’s established somewhat of a reputation across Missouri and Kansas,” Ben said. “Pinkerton’s even hired him on a couple of occasions.”
“The detective agency?”
“Yep. And there’s an operative right here in San Francisco. I couldn’t get him to admit he knew anything, but his pretty, little female clerk acknowledged Luke had been in the office just this afternoon.”
Abby could just imagine how her charming brother managed to get that information out of the girl, but she wasn’t going to ask. She couldn’t imagine why Luke would have even gone there. Her throat suddenly felt dry and she swallowed hard. “That still doesn’t prove anything.”
Ben paused. “There was a witness to Travis Sayer’s shooting. A man in the crowd saw Luke pull his gun. A second later, Travis fell to the ground.”
“No.” Abby shook her head in disbelief. “That couldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” She searched for an answer. “Well, if someone saw Luke do it, why didn’t he turn him in?”
Ben shrugged again. “Like you said, this is the West. Men tend to mind their own business.”
She knew that was true. It wasn’t that much different from the Bowery. An unwritten code of seeing nothing, hearing nothing kept a lot of people alive. “But why would Luke shoot his own cousin?”
“I doubt that they were related at all.”
“What?” This just kept getting worse and worse. “He had a letter from Travis.”
Her brother gave her a pitying look generally reserved for the dim-witted. “He did. I read it. Travis wanted to expand the store—”
“Luke’s not an investor.”
“What makes you say that? I admit none of this gun-for-hire stuff makes sense, but that doesn’t mean Luke can’t be interested in investing.”
“It’s a scam.”
“What?” Her hearing must be going, or her brother had gone mad. Or maybe she’d hit her head harder than she thought when she flew from the carriage.
Ben took her hand, something he rarely did. “Luke’s been talking up this scheme in the gambling dens. He’s hinted there might be room for a silent partner to take care of the widows’ ‘investments’.”
It was a good thing she was sitting, because she suddenly was too weak to stand. She felt as though the world had suddenly dropped out from under her, and she was floating mindlessly in air. Luke was an imposter? He’d been lying to her all along?
Suddenly, it made sense why he didn’t want her to be any part of the “investment”. He never intended to build the expansion, and he wanted to keep the money to himself. How could she have been so stupid to not see it?
How could she have been so stupid?
Chapter Fifteen
Delia told Luke that Abby was sleeping when he stopped by. He didn’t want to disturb her, he knew she needed to rest. But he hadn’t anticipated how much he was looking forward to seeing her and how oddly disappointed he was that he could not. They needed to talk. About everything. Mainly, he needed to tell her the real reason he’d come to San Francisco. He’d come clean about it all and pray she’d understand and forgive him. Ferreting out the money-laundering accomplice who’d taken his grandmother’s savings was no longer his priority. Finding out why John wanted Abby gone was.
Before he confronted the bastard, though, he needed to make sure he’d taken care of any excuse the man could make. His first stop was the stables where he’d rented the buggy.
Mr. Anderson, the owner, came out as he approached with the wagon. He looked at the cabriolet lying on its side in the bed. “You had an accident?”
“Not exactly,” Luke said as he jumped down from the bench. “Sabotage, more likely.”
Mr. Anderson’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying the axle was partially sawed through.”
“That’s impossible.”
Luke studied him, checking for any tell-tale sign of deceit, but Anderson looked him directly in the eye, his voice was steady, and he wasn’t making any nervous movements. Not that Luke had expected anything, but he wanted to rule out any alibis. He gestured. “See for yourself.”
The man scrambled onto the wagon bed. It didn’t take him long to inspect the buggy before his face drained of color. “I swear this wasn’t the condition I rented it out in.”
“How can you be sure?” Luke asked as Anderson climbed down. “Is there any possibility that the last renter brought it back like this?”
He shook his head emphatically. “I always inspect the equipment myself when it comes back, and again before I rent it out.”
Luke was fairly certain the man spoke the truth since he kept all his tack in good condition, as well. Still, another question or two wouldn’t hurt.
“Is there any possibility that someone may have tampered with it after you’d done your inspection? Was there anyone about before I picked it up two days ago?”
“No. I looked everything over the night before and locked up the carriage room myself. You were the first client that morning.” Anderson gave him a quick perusal “Thank God you weren’t hurt.”
“I wasn’t,” Luke said grimly, “but the lady riding with me was thrown out when the wheel came off.”
Anderson’s face blanched again. “Did she… Is she all right?”
“She survived. By the way, you might want to leave the buggy as it is in case the constable wants to have a look.”
Anderson nodded. “I’ll lock it in the carriage house.”
“Do that.” Luke turned to leave. He hadn’t made a report to the authorities yet, but he wanted the evidence waiting when he did. He still had another stop to make.
♦◊♦
“My father is in,” Isabella said when he arrived at the Pinkerton office right after lunch. “I’ll announce you.”
“Not necessary.” She looked slightly affronted, but he just didn’t have time to stand on ceremony. At least, not today. He gave her one of his best smiles. “I’ll just tell him I barged in.”
She looked heavenward, but then relented and smiled back. “Get on with you, then.”
He stopped smiling when he stepped inside the office and closed the door. Isabella’s father looked up from a paper he was studying and then shoved it aside. “You look like
you’re loaded for bear.” He raised a brow. “I thought gunslingers were usually cool and collected.”
The man was right. Luke always controlled his emotions. He couldn’t afford not to. Reacting, instead of staying in command, could be deadly. Somehow, thinking logically and calmly had become impossible when it came to Abby.
“I need the agency’s help.”
The brow arched a bit higher. “What’s the problem?”
When Luke finished telling him what had transpired and what his suspicions were, the other man nodded. “I’ll delve into this John’s background and see what I can come with. Give me a few days.”
“Thanks.” Luke stood to leave. He wasn’t sure he wanted to wait a few days, but there wasn’t much choice. He knew these things took time. Meanwhile, he would stick close to Abby like a bee to honeycomb.
He spent the rest of the afternoon doing some digging on his own, but to no avail. By the time he decided to call it a day, the sun was sinking low on the horizon. It occurred to him that maybe he had been dragging his heels in returning to the boardinghouse. As much as he wanted to see Abby, he also knew he would be facing a battle much worse than any gunslinger he’d had to face down.
♦◊♦
“What do you mean, Abby can’t see me?” he asked Ben a short time later when her brother met him in the parlor. “Has she gotten worse?” He jumped up from the chair where he’d been waiting and started to the door. “Did you call the physician?”
Ben blocked him. “Abby’s fine.”
“If she’s fine, then I need to talk to her.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Luke stared at him. “Why not?”
Ben glared back. “You should know.”
“Damnation! I should know what? I have to talk to her!”
Delia emerged from the hall to stand near Ben. “I think you’ve done enough damage.”
He gave her a startled look. “Damage? I can prove the buggy was sab—”
“The buggy has nothing to do with it.” Delia said flatly. “You made Abby cry, you deceitful man. You made my friend cry!”
“Cry? Abby cried?” And suddenly, his belly clenched and he felt like he’d swallowed a hot coal. Had he been found out? Before he had a chance to tell her himself? One look at her brother’s smug face gave him his answer.
“Get out of my way!” he bellowed and pushed past Ben, knocking him against the wall. Delia’s screech barely registered as he took the stairs three at a time. He wasn’t about to lose Abby. Not now, when he realized he loved her.
♦◊♦
Abby jumped out of her dressing chair as the door crashed open and banged against the wall. She gasped when she saw Luke and then turned quickly away before he could see her red, swollen eyes. She didn’t hear him approach, but seconds later, his hands were on her shoulders, turning her around.
“Why have you been crying?”
“I—”
“Take your hands off her!” Ben shouted, storming into the room, Delia not far behind.
The lightning-fast reflexes Abby had seen the night of the accident came into play again. Luke spun and ducked as Ben’s fist punched past his shoulder, then barreled into him, throwing him off balance. Unfortunately, Abby hadn’t moved at all, stunned by what was happening. A second later, she felt a sharp pain as her brother’s misguided fist clipped her cheekbone and she reeled backward.
Delia screamed while Luke and Ben uttered a string of curses.
Luke caught her and set her on the bed, keeping one arm around her for support.
Ben rushed over. “I’ll take care of my sister.”
Luke’s wolf-colored eyes fixed on him as though he were prey. “I think you’ve done enough damage.”
“Christ. I didn’t mean to.” Ben sat down beside Abby. “I’m sorry, Sis. Please forgive me. Please. I never meant to hit you.”
“I know you didn’t,” Abby said, wincing as she touched her cheek.
“Go see if the landlady has some ice, or a raw beefsteak,” Luke glowered at Ben. “Either will keep the swelling down.”
“I’ll do it,” Delia said, and fled down the stairs.
“Christ,” Ben said again, looking miserable. “I meant to hit him, not you.”
Luke’s gaze hardened. “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, that can be arranged.”
Ben glared back. “Just name the time and place.”
“Stop it! Both of you.” Abby closed her eyes against the sharp, searing pain. “You’re both acting like schoolboys.”
“I am not.”
“Neither am I.”
She opened her eyes slowly. “You sound like schoolboys, too.”
Luke growled and Ben huffed, but they both remained silent. She would have rolled her eyes, but she had a feeling the movement would hurt. Luckily, Delia returned with a bowl of ice and a washcloth.
“Mrs. Bartlett says she wants no fighting in her house.”
“Nobody’s going to fight anybody,” Abby said as her brother and Luke scowled at each other. She gave each of them a look out of her good eye. “Am I right?”
“I suppose,” Ben muttered.
“For now, anyway,” Luke added as he wrapped some of the ice in the washcloth and held it to Abby’s face.
The cold felt like heaven, or maybe it was Luke’s touch that numbed the pain. But a look at Ben’s face made her realize that the simple gesture was riling his temper again, and she inwardly sighed. “I can hold the pack in place.”
For a moment, she didn’t think Luke was going to let go, but then he pressed her hand against the cloth and dropped his. “Move it around a little so your skin doesn’t freeze.”
She nodded. “Now that truce has been declared, why are you here, Luke?”
“We need to talk.” He glanced at Ben and Delia, then turned back. “In private.”
Ben crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving you alone with my sister in her bedroom.”
“Damnation, she’s hurt,” Luke replied. “I’m hardly going to take advantage of her.”
“Not moving,” Ben answered.
“Me, either,” Delia chimed in. “I’ll be the chaperone or…” She grinned cheekily. “…the referee, if needed.”
Abby recognized the look on her brother’s face. Even if she could get him—and Delia—to leave, he’d just listen at the door. She turned to Luke. “You might as well say what you came to say.”
He sighed. “Why were you crying?”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “You know damn well—”
“I’m asking Abby.”
She kept her eyes down, then swallowed hard, praying she wouldn’t start crying again. “You deceived me, Luke.” When he didn’t answer, she looked up. “You aren’t going to deny it?”
He shook his head. “It’s true. But…” He held up his hand before anyone could speak. “I had a reason that had nothing to do with you. If you’ll give me just a few minutes of your time, I’ll explain.” He took a deep breath. “And then I’ll leave—for good—if you want me to.”
Dear Lord. She should just tell him to go, but blast it, she knew she didn’t want him to leave. As upset as she was, as hurt as she felt, she didn’t want him to go. Not for good. She was a fool for caring, but she did. She more than cared. She’d let herself fall in love with him, and that’s why his deception cut to her core. She must be a real glutton for punishment.
“Tell me.”
Her brother started to sputter, but she cut him off. “Please, Ben. I need to hear this from Luke.”
“Fine.” He gave Luke a black look. “But if you make my sister cry—”
“He won’t.” Abby lifted her chin, determined to make her words true.
“Thank you,” Luke said. “It all started with my grandmother—”
“Your grandmother?” Of all the things she’d expected to come out of his mouth, none of them had to do with his grandmother.
He nodded and continued. By the time he finished explaining
how he’d wanted to get his grandmother’s money back by setting up his own scheme, and that he’d decided to abandon the plan and return all the widows’ investment money, she could only stare at him.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked. He hesitated so long she didn’t think he was going to answer.
“You,” he finally said.
“Me?”
“Yes. I…” He paused again and looked at his intrigued audience of two, then turned back to her. “All your hopes and dreams are tied up in making the store successful. I didn’t want to be the one to bring your world crashing down.”
She had a feeling he’d meant to say something else, but she didn’t know what was. Still, the words he did say warmed her heart. He must care, at least a little.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said.
“There’s more?” Was he actually going to say he cared?
“I’m the one who killed your fiancé.” He took a deep breath. “I shot Travis Sayer.”
For a moment, Abby could only stare. So it was true, what Ben had said.
“You’re a gunslinger.” Ben took a step forward. “Were you hired to kill him?”
“My gun has been for hire, but those days are in my past.” Luke shook his head. “I never shot to kill unless it was absolutely unavoidable. And I didn’t come here to kill Sayer. I wanted my grandmother’s money back.”
Abby furrowed her brows. “Then why did you shoot him?”
He sighed. “I only meant to wound him so he’d stop dragging that dance-hall girl down the street. Someone jostled my arm just as I pulled the trigger. Believe me when I say I wanted him alive.”
“I suppose that would have been to your advantage.” Abby slid a glance to Ben first, then took a deep breath. “I have a confession to make, as well.”
“Don’t,” Ben warned. “You don’t owe him any confessions.”
“But he’s being honest with us,” Abby replied. “He should know—”
“No. Don’t,” Ben said again. “He doesn’t need to—”
“—know that both of you were pickpockets in New York?” Luke asked.
Ben’s mouth dropped open and Abby turned startled eyes to Luke. “You knew?”
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