A Matter of Marriage

by Ann Collins

  “Thank you.”

  Alex inspected where the wood had parted. The top edges were splinter sharp and uneven, except at the very end, which had him worried. Carefully, he ran his fingertips along that end. It was fairly smooth where it should’ve been jagged. A sticky, wet substance clung to his fingers.

  “Have you found something?” She leaned over him. Loose strands of her hair brushed the back of his neck.

  He struggled to concentrate on the step. “Yes, and it’s not good.” When he lifted his hand, white paint stained his fingers. “It’s fresh.”

  “But that can’t be right. I keep good track of the maintenance schedule—everything that’s been done and everywhere the men have been working. These steps have not been painted recently.”

  He wiped the paint off on the step. “Move back a minute.”

  When she had done as he asked, he gripped one half of the board and hauled up hard on it, grimacing at the pain in his ribs. Nails squealed as they pulled free of the anchoring wood, but the section of step came up easier than it should have. Alex turned it in his hands and saw what he had been afraid of finding.

  “Julia, this has been tampered with. The step was removed, almost sawn through from the underside, then nailed back down using the original holes.” He turned the wood. “At this end, the wood was sawn through completely, no doubt by accident. The paint was used to disguise it.”

  She sat down with a thud. “Someone sabotaged the step.”

  Somewhere along the third-floor hallway, a woman giggled and a man laughed deeply. A door shut, muting their laughter.

  Alex set the damaged board aside and sat down next to Julia, careful to keep their bodies from touching. “A job like this took time and nerve.” As well as arrogance, he thought. “Do you use this stairway?”

  Her face paled, giving him his answer.

  “When would you have used it?”

  She clasped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her. “In another hour or two, when I did my last rounds of the day. At night, I walk through the main building. During the day, I also check on the departments set away from the hotel, such as the laundry and gardening shed.” She swallowed visibly. “This was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

  He wished he could tell her otherwise, but hiding the truth from her would not keep her safe. “After what happened this afternoon, I think it’s a logical conclusion. We can also conclude that the saboteur knows your routine, where you go and when you go there.”

  A visible tremor vibrated through her.

  Alex started to put his arm around her, then thought better of it. “Did you report the flowerpot incident to Coronado’s marshal?” The suitor who had never given up hope of a relationship with her, Alex recalled.

  “No.” She rubbed her arms, as if trying to warm herself. “I was distracted by my marriage problem, and I suppose I still didn’t want to believe the danger was serious enough to alert Marshal Landis.”

  “Why haven’t you asked him to marry you? If he was your suitor, like you said, he’d probably jump at the chance to help you out.”

  “I believe he would. He doesn’t know about my predicament or that I have a wedding ceremony scheduled for tomorrow evening. If he had heard about either, he would have confronted me.” Julia sighed. “Now he may be my best hope. There’d be no risk of scandal. He’s a good and well-respected man. However, like you, Tom wants a real marriage. Unlike you, he doesn’t approve of a woman running a business.”

  “You’re a very persuasive woman, Julia. I expect you could bring him around to your way of thinking.” Alex nearly gagged on his suggestion. Though he felt compelled to help her, marrying her off to another man irked him for some reason he refused to examine. “The marshal wouldn’t want to see the hotel mismanaged by someone else. Coronado would suffer. No matter how he fits into your marriage situation, you need to let the marshal do his job. If whoever did this”—he aimed his thumb over his shoulder—“tries again and succeeds, you won’t need a husband. Period.”

  Her eyes went bright with fear, and her body quaked beneath a violent shudder. This time, Alex could not keep himself from comforting her. He slipped his arm around her back and shoulders, never expecting her to accept what he was offering. She surprised him, though, leaning into his side and resting her head just below his shoulder.

  She fit against him just right, and he held her a little tighter. He knew the moment wouldn’t last, not once she gathered her courage and resolve again, but he liked holding her, liked having her depend on him. He worried for her even more. She was facing a clever, determined assailant who knew her schedule and had easy access to the hotel.

  Alex believed it had to be one of her employees, someone Julia trusted. She was in terrible danger, but unless he could keep her locked behind a stout door, Alex feared he might not be able to protect her any better than he had his wife and son.

  * * *

  In her second-floor apartment, Julia waited with Alex for Tom Landis, Coronado’s marshal, to arrive. Unable to sit still, she paced the sitting room while Alex sat on the leather sofa, reading one of her father’s dime novels. Each page crackled as he turned it. The sound both annoyed and reassured her. He was calm, the exact opposite of what she currently felt. Only when she had been seated beside him on the stairs, his arm pulling her into him, had she felt safe. His quiet, solid strength had seeped into her until she’d been able to stand on her own again, as she had always done. And would continue doing.

  She did not want to depend on Alex, and yet, Julia knew that if he were not with her now, she’d be pinging off the walls or cowering in a corner. Someone definitely meant her harm. Had it not been for Mrs. Reynolds’ chance trip upstairs, the worst might have happened. Now she needed the police to find and arrest whoever had sabotaged that stair. Until then, she would be vulnerable and worried just when she most needed to be strong and focused on the hotel and her marriage situation. After Alex’s refusal, she needed a husband worse than ever.

  Tom would certainly marry her before the deadline. And as head of the Coronado Police Department, all two members of it, he could keep her safe indefinitely. But he wanted children.

  “What are you thinking?”

  She jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice, then scolded herself for being so jittery in the safety of her own apartment. “What?”

  “I can see your mind working from here, debating about something. What is it?”

  “For a man I barely know, you seem to know me quite well. I don’t think I like that.”

  He shrugged. “If I knew you really well, I wouldn’t have to ask the question that you haven’t answered.”

  She lifted her chin. “If you must know, I’m giving your suggestion serious consideration.”

  “Which suggestion was that?”

  “The one about marrying Tom. He’s an upstanding citizen and keeper of the law. A marriage to him would not damage my reputation or that of the hotel’s.”

  Alex threw the dime novel onto the coffee table. It slid to a stop next to the section of broken step. “Then I guess he’s your best bet.”

  “Yes, but I’m worried about his … expectations.”

  He rubbed his jaw without touching his scar. “You mean those ‘intimate relations’ you mentioned at dinner?”

  “Yes. No.” She told herself she wouldn’t blush, but she couldn’t stop it. “Sort of. I’m terrified of having children.”

  His eyebrows rose, but if he had planned to say anything, the loud knock at the door silenced him.

  “That’ll be Tom.” Julia hurried to the door.

  Alex rose, slowly and stiffly amidst the creak of leather.

  She opened the door. “Tom, thank you for coming.” He was nearly as tall as Alex. Though it was half past nine, he still wore his uniform. Not a crease marred the navy-blue fabric. Gold buttons and a seven-pointed gold star gleamed on his barrel-shaped chest. “I’m sorry to call you out this late.”

  “I don’t mind.” His
usually stern mouth, most of it hidden by a full, sandy-colored mustache, softened. “It’s good to see you, Julia. I’ve been wanting to come by. When you telephoned, I was glad to oblige. Any excuse to see you is a good one.”

  She blinked at him. An attempt on her life was a good excuse to see her? “Uh, come in, please.”

  Tom’s penetrating blue eyes narrowed as soon as he spied Alex. However, he showed no reaction to Alex’s scar other than a straightforward perusal.

  “Who are you?” He slapped his gray cowboy hat against his left thigh.

  “MacLean.”

  Julia hurried to make the introductions. “Tom, this is Alex MacLean, a … guest.” He was not her employee yet, so she preferred the marshal view him as someone from a higher class. Tom would not have approved of her allowing a male employee into her apartment for anything other than maintenance tasks. “Alex, this is Marshal Landis.”

  He tipped his head. “Marshal.”

  Tom’s gaze swung between her and Alex, his eyes still narrowed. Then he thrust out his hand and clasped Alex’s hard enough, she observed, to squeeze the blood out of it. The marshal always liked people to know who was in charge.

  Alex showed no outward sign of discomfort, and she started to worry for Tom’s hand. Despite his size, he did not labor with his body the way Alex did.

  “I’ve known Julia since she first came here back in eighty-seven,” Tom said, his grip unchanging. “How do you know her?”

  “We’re more recent acquaintances.”

  She nodded in agreement, pleased by Alex’s lack of specifics. Tom could take his response to mean they had known each other for months, or even years, rather than just a few hours.

  “You have a good grip on you, MacLean.”

  “So have you, Marshal.”

  At an apparent stalemate, they released each other.

  Relieved, she arranged herself on the overstuffed, upholstered chair at the head of the coffee table. Tom tossed his hat down beside the broken step and took the other sofa across from Alex. The men faced each other over the low table.

  Tom turned to her. “So what’s this nonsense about someone trying to kill you?”

  Alex’s hands clenched into fists atop his thighs. “Marshal,” he said, before she could respond, “physical threats have been made against Julia. We expect you to take them seriously, not consider them ‘nonsense.’”

  She barely breathed even as tears pricked her eyes. No one on Coronado ever challenged Tom Landis. And no man, not even her father, had ever championed her like this. Alex had also included her in his statement, speaking as if they were together, of one mind.

  Tom made no apology. “If there is a threat, I will give it the attention it’s due. Julia, you were circumspect over the telephone. I need details. Tell me what happened.”

  “I’ll let Alex explain, starting with the flowerpot that was thrown at me. He saw everything.”

  He described the incident, the unerring aim of whoever had thrown the flowerpot, and how he had grabbed her, rolling them both out of range.

  A shiver crept up her spine, and Julia wrapped her arms around herself, unsure whether she was belatedly reacting to those frightening moments or remembering how it felt to be in Alex’s arms, her body pressed to the length of his.

  “But you never saw who threw it,” Tom said.

  “No,” he answered. “I wish I had.”

  “Tom, Alex saved me from certain injury and possible death. The threat is serious.”

  The marshal pulled at his mustache. “What about this?” He leaned forward and touched the broken board.

  She motioned for Alex to explain his findings. The marshal would take his opinion more seriously than hers.

  “That came from an upper-floor service staircase Julia routinely uses at night. The stair, as you can see, was tampered with. The step gave way under the foot of a chambermaid, who fortunately wasn’t injured.”

  Tom examined the freshly sawn and painted wood, then dropped the piece back on the table. “Julia, when are you going to give up this insanity of managing the Hotel Grand Victoria? It’s not a job for a lady like you. And now it has become dangerous. You—”

  She raised her hands, palms outward, to stop him, then remembered how much she needed him. “You may be right, Tom,”—she saw Alex purse his lips—“but you know how much I love the hotel. It’s my home. I can’t let just anybody take charge of it. Surely you can understand how I feel.”

  He squinted at her, and his mustache shifted from side to side as his mouth worked beneath it. “Well, I suppose. It is the only home you’ve known here.”

  Alex abruptly sat forward. “You can keep the damaged step as evidence, Marshal.”

  “I don’t see a need for that. I know where to find it if necessary.”

  “Then how about you make a list of suspects.”

  Tom laughed. “That’d be a long list. Every man who works here, and a few who don’t, would be on it.”

  Julia did not appreciate his laughter, but she forgave him. He was her best hope for an instant and upstanding husband.

  A taut stillness came over Alex. “That would put you on the list, too, wouldn’t it, Marshal?”

  Julia cringed. What was Alex doing?

  Tom grabbed his hat, jammed it onto his head, and stood up. “You saying I’d do harm to Julia?”

  Alex slowly pushed to his feet. “You obviously don’t want her running the hotel anymore than Chalmers, the desk clerk, does, and he’s our prime suspect.”

  “I would never hurt Julia, or force her to do something she didn’t want to do. She means a great deal to me, as she well knows.” He turned to her. “Julia, if you’d just marry me the way I asked you to last Christmas, all your problems would be solved. No one would dare hurt my wife.”

  On shaking legs, she rose from her chair and swallowed hard. It was now or never. “Tom, I would—”

  “She’s already spoken for, Marshal.” Alex strode to her side and linked his hand in hers.

  Afraid she might be dreaming, she said and did nothing except school her face into an expression that kept her emotions to herself.

  Tom’s nostrils flared.

  “Tomorrow,” Alex added, “Julia will become Mrs. Alexander MacLean.”

  “The hell she will!” Tom thundered. “I don’t believe it. I’ve heard nothing about this, and I would have heard.” He thrust his index finger at Alex. “I’ve got half a mind to put you in jail for lying.”

  “Tom, you will not arrest”—she tasted the next two words on her tongue, liked how they tasted and spoke them—“my fiancé.” An amazing sense of peace flowed into her, calming the turmoil that had been her life since the day Mr. Byrnes read her father’s will to her.

  “Julia, you can’t be serious,” Tom said.

  “It’s true, Tom. The ceremony is tomorrow evening.”

  Alex squeezed her hand. “You’re invited, if you can be civil.”

  Tom sputtered, looking as if he were about to suffer a fit of apoplexy.

  Alex went on. “Once Julia and I are wed, she will continue operating the Hotel Grand Victoria. I have no intention of interfering in her work unless her safety is at risk. From you, Marshal, we want your help in discovering the identity of whoever wants her dead.”

  Reminded of the danger, she shifted closer to him. She needed Alex’s strength, and she wanted to believe that her future and the hotel’s were no longer in question.

  Tom’s gaze whipped from their joined hands to their faces. “Something’s not right here. How long have you and he been courting?”

  “My wedding has been planned for some time,” she said. Thankfully, only the Dolans and her lawyer had known the name of her husband-to-be. If Tom knew she was going to marry a stranger, he might put her in jail just to stop the proceedings.

  “Our wedding,” Alex added.

  Tom’s gaze darted between them. “I’m not convinced. Julia, with your father gone, somebody has to watch over you. Someone
like me. And what I’m seeing is you promising yourself to a man you introduced to me not twenty minutes ago as a guest, but who looks like he can’t afford a new shirt let alone a room here. What’s the story?”

  She lifted her chin a notch and gripped Alex’s hand tighter. “I appreciate your concern for my well-being, Tom, but I don’t have to explain my choice of husband to you.”

  “Marshal,” Alex said, his eyes narrowed, “we’ll show you out now. You’ll want to get started on your investigation.” He pulled her with him toward the door and opened it wide.

  Scowling and grumbling, Tom stomped past them into the hall, then twisted around. “I’ll start my investigation all right. With you, MacLean. Then we will see what’s what.”

  Chapter Six

  Alex shut the door behind the marshal, restraining himself from slamming it. “Overbearing ass. Give a man a badge and he thinks he can step on whomever he likes. If he spends all his time investigating me, he’ll end up compromising your safety.” He might even find what Alex had spent the last three and a half years trying to put behind him.

  “Did you really mean it?” Julia asked softly.

  “Mean what?”

  “That you’ll marry me.”

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, and I think you know that. Your search is over.”

  “But what about your dream of children and a wife who loves you?”

  “I haven’t given up on any dreams. I won’t be abandoning you after the ceremony.” He glanced at their linked hands and felt a kind of bond he had never shared with his wife. “We barely know each other, but I think we have a good chance together. Certainly better than what you would have had with him.” Alex tilted his head toward the door. He avoided telling her how his heart had taken flight when she claimed him as her fiancé.

  She tugged her hand free of his. Acting skittish all of a sudden, she opened the distance between them. Her behavior didn’t bode well for their wedding night, or even the ceremonial kiss that would start their marriage off right, showing everyone in attendance that their vows were real. Alex could hardly wait to share a kiss with her, one befitting a bride and groom.