The Rancher's Temporary Engagement

by Stacy Henrie

  His slow grin had her feeling grateful for the support of his arm. “You find me handsome?”

  “Yes,” she retorted, tugging him toward the door. “And humble, too.”

  He laughed, and the sound wound its way through her embarrassment and into her heart. Making her long for things she couldn’t have. Surely God still wanted her to be a detective. Besides, it wasn’t as if Edward felt more than friendship for her. Once his case was wrapped up and he was supplying the British Cavalry with horses, he would forget all about her.

  Maggy would never fully forget him, though—or her time as his fiancée.

  Please let me make it through tonight, she prayed as Edward led her into the yard, where the others waited in the wagon or on horseback. Then grant me the courage to say goodbye.

  * * *

  Edward couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering to where Maggy stood with several other women, talking and drinking glasses of punch. While all of the women in attendance looked nice in their best dresses, Maggy—his fiancée—stood out like a ray of sunshine after a long gray winter. She was beautiful, strong and graceful, inside and out.

  Did he see her that way because he’d come to know and love the real Maggy?

  Love? He started coughing, drawing curious looks from Kitt and Jensen standing nearby. “Excuse me,” he mumbled. “I believe I’ll get some punch.”

  He made his way toward the refreshment table, through the crowd of people not currently dancing. A few called out to him. He did his best to smile and nod, but inside he was reeling.

  Had he actually associated love and Maggy in the same thought? He certainly admired her, cherished her, cared deeply for her. But love?

  The last time he’d believed himself in love, things had not gone well. He’d been left alone and heartbroken, which would surely happen again if he confessed his feelings to Maggy. She was leaving, quite possibly tomorrow, and had a promotion waiting for her in Colorado. He had things to focus on, too, like rebuilding his stable and securing a contract with the Cavalry.

  And yet... He studied her as he neared the table and felt the familiar leap of anticipation inside his heart at the thought of being near her once more. He wanted to protect her from every evil, comfort her after every loss, laugh at her every joke and hold her close tonight and every night hereafter. Surely that was love.

  In that moment, he knew—he was in love with Maggy.

  Edward downed a cup of punch and set the empty glass on the table. The notes of a waltz filled the crowded room. He and Maggy had danced twice already, but they’d been more exuberant dances. The waltz was different, more romantic. And he didn’t want to dance it with anyone else except his fiancée.

  Making his way over to her side, he extended his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Worthwright?”

  Her cheeks glowed a pretty shade of pink as the women around her tittered in approval at his request. “I’d be delighted.” She set her gloved hand in his palm and he led her to a spot on the dance floor.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, feeling suddenly nervous.

  Maggy nodded, then gave him a rueful smile. “At least as much as I can before ten o’clock.” That was the hour they were to meet the Druitts in an anteroom of the city hall building, with the sheriff in tow.

  “I know what you mean.” Though his nervousness had less to do with the confrontation and more with what he’d finally realized about his feelings for her.

  He pulled her closer. “Maggy?

  “Yes?” She lifted her wide blue eyes to his.

  Did he dare confess his heart? Would it be fair? If he told her what he felt, she might feel obligated to stay, instead of pursuing the promotion she clearly wanted. “I...”

  Her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong, Edward?”

  “No,” he said, making a decision. He loved her, yes, and wanted nothing more than to make her his wife. But he loved her enough to put her happiness first, to see her continue in a job she excelled at doing. “It does occur to me, though, that I don’t know your real last name.”

  She looked a bit surprised at the change in topic. “Do you really want to know what it is?”

  “Very much.” It would be something else real, beyond his feelings for her, that he would hold on to after she left.

  Maggy smiled, and the radiance of it nearly made him forget they were supposed to be dancing. “My maiden name,” she whispered, “and the one I go by now is Worthing.”

  “Maggy Worthing.”

  A mixture of sorrow and gratitude swelled within him just as the music did around them. Her full name was no longer a mystery to him and neither was the identity of the woman who’d fully and completely captured his heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maggy had to resist the pull to become caught up in the music, in Edward’s embrace and in the deep and tender way he regarded her. Maybe she should’ve turned him down for the waltz, insisted they sit this dance out. Except she’d wanted to be the one whirling about the room in his arms as though they actually belonged together. She wanted to draw out every moment of their time tonight.

  “Tell me something about you—something I don’t know,” she said, glancing away.

  If she kept staring into those beloved gray eyes, she might not have the courage to walk away tomorrow. She had an incredible opportunity before her with this promotion. She had little here, beyond friends, if she stayed. And she couldn’t settle for friendship with Edward—not anymore.

  His brow furrowed as if her question had caught him off guard. “Something you don’t know?”

  “Yes.” She searched for something to ask, something to distract her from the pull between them. “W-what was the name of the girl you loved?”

  “Her name was Beatrice.” His intent focus remained on her face when she looked at him. “And I didn’t love her.”

  Maggy found it suddenly hard to form words. “But the other night. You said you thought you loved her.”

  “I was wrong back then, Maggy.” When had they stopped dancing? He still held her hand, which he gave a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t know what real love was, but now I do. And I know I don’t have the right...”

  Her heart beat so loudly she could hardly hear him over the music. Did his feelings run deeper than she’d thought? Movement across the room caught her attention. Vienna was standing in the doorway, waving at Maggy to join her. Her face had lost its earlier color and her expression appeared anxious.

  “I’m sorry, Edward. Can we finish this conversation in a little bit? I think Vienna needs something.” She motioned to the other side of the room as she stepped away from him.

  Though he looked disappointed, he nodded. “Would you like me to come with you?”

  “No.” If Vienna needed to talk about her husband, then she wasn’t likely to welcome Edward’s presence as she and Maggy conversed. “I’ll be back soon.”

  She smiled at him, hoping to convey how much she wished to keep talking. When he returned her smile, she felt better. She’d hurry and see what Vienna wanted and then come right back.

  Slipping into the crowd, she moved around the guests toward the other side of the room. But, by the time Maggy reached the doorway, Vienna was no longer there. Baffled, she glanced up and down the hall.

  “Vienna?” she called.

  The click of the outer door straight ahead indicated her friend must have gone outside. Maggy followed, eager for some fresh air herself. Hopefully that would help cool her cheeks before she spoke with Edward again. Pushing through the door, she found Vienna standing beside a parked wagon.

  “There you are.” Maggy smiled and took a step forward. “Is everything all right?”

  Vienna hung her head. “Oh, Maggy,” she murmured in a tortured whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  “So sor—”

  Strong arms grabbed
her from behind and a hand clapped over her mouth before she could cry out. “Well, if ain’t the high-and-mighty Miss Worthwright,” Howe jeered in her ear. “Getting you to leave the ball was as easy as I expected.”

  Alarm pooled in Maggy’s stomach as the gravity of her situation became apparent to her. Howe had used Vienna to get them both to leave the protection of the ball.

  “Now, listen real good. You’re going to get up into this wagon. And you aren’t going to make any noise.” He lifted the hand not covering her mouth to reveal a gun. “If you so much as take a step toward the building, I’ll shoot Vienna.”

  His wife let out a whimper that tore at Maggy’s heart and made her want to fight Howe. But she’d witnessed his unhinged anger the other night. There was no doubt in her mind he would make good on his threat, and she wouldn’t knowingly put her friend in danger.

  She dipped her head in a submissive nod. Only then did Howe loosen his iron grip on her. He marched her toward the back of the wagon, where some torn cloths and coiled lengths of rope sat waiting to be used.

  Howe gagged her mouth with a cloth, then tied her wrists together in front. Lastly, he ensured she couldn’t untie the gag by lassoing rope around her upper arms and torso. Everything inside Maggy cried out to fight, but she squelched the feeling as he half lifted, half tossed her into the back of the wagon. The thought of Ms. Glasen’s beautifully crafted ball gown being torn or dirtied made her cringe with frustration and empathy. And that made her nearly laugh out loud. When had she come to care about the proper maintenance of feminine clothes? Probably about the time she’d started to fall in love with Edward.

  Edward! If only she’d accepted his invitation to come with her. Moisture burned in her eyes. She might have unknowingly jeopardized their meeting with the Druitts by walking right into Howe’s trap. Which also meant they might not get the confession they needed to finally put Edward’s case to rest. An overwhelming sense of despair settled inside her.

  Howe gagged and tied Vienna in the same fashion before putting her in the back of the wagon, too. After ordering them to lie down and keep quiet, he climbed onto the seat and urged the horses forward. The wagon rattled beneath them as he increased the team’s speed.

  In the dying light, Maggy could see Vienna was crying. She wished she could tell her not to worry or to blame herself. But she was struggling with similar thoughts and self-accusations.

  Maggy shut her eyes and did the only thing she could think of to do. She began to pray—for her and Vienna and Edward. When she opened her eyes, she saw Vienna’s were now closed. The hope that her friend was also petitioning the Lord brought a surge of comfort and pushed back at her despondency.

  The light disappeared as the wagon rumbled onward. Maggy could only see a square of darkening sky above them, which gave little indication of which direction they were headed. After a long time of praying and dozing, she felt the wagon’s movement growing rougher. Then tree branches loomed overhead.

  At last the wagon came to a stop. Maggy wished she could rub her aching jaw. Her back felt stiff and sore after the jarring ride, and her arms were chaffed from rubbing against the rope.

  “We’ll wait here,” Howe announced as he leaned in to grip Vienna’s arm.

  Wait for what? Maggy wondered with a shiver. Where are we?

  She soon learned the answer. Howe wrested her out of the wagon and onto her feet, dragging her toward a nearby fence. Vienna sat against one fence post, and Howe pushed Maggy to the dirt beside another. The man had a lantern, which threw light and shadow on the ground as he moved from the fence to the wagon and back. After a bit, he started a campfire a short distance from where he’d left them, then he extinguished the lantern. He looked up every few minutes, his gun in hand, as if watching for someone.

  With the aid of the glowing campfire, Maggy turned her focus from Howe to studying the fence line. She soon realized it encircled a corral—one that she recognized. This was the hidden corral she and Edward had discovered weeks ago. Wild hope rose into her throat as she pulled her knees to her chest. Edward knew this place existed, and now she just had to pray he’d remember it before Howe lost patience or anyone else showed up.

  * * *

  Edward danced three more times—once with Matilda Kitt, once with a girl he didn’t know and lastly with Lavina Jensen. Based on her answers to his questions about the ball and the evening in general, she seemed entirely unaware of the pending meeting her parents were to attend. He looked for Maggy between each dance, but he didn’t see her. Her conversation with Vienna was running longer than he’d expected.

  When he finished dancing with Lavina, he searched the room and the nearby hall for Maggy. A glance at the clock inside the main room showed it was a quarter to ten. Perhaps she’d gone into the anteroom early. Edward glanced inside, but the small room stood empty. Where had she and Vienna gone?

  He returned to the ball and walked among the guests a second time to see if he’d missed them coming back inside. But neither young woman was there. Had they gone outside to talk? He exited the city hall and circled the building. No one was about, save for a middle-aged couple taking a stroll. His wagon and all of the ranch horses were in the same spots where they’d left them.

  Uneasiness gnawed at him as he went back inside. Something was amiss; he could feel it, even if he didn’t know what was wrong. He found Mrs. Harvey and asked her if she’d seen Maggy and Vienna, but she hadn’t.

  “Is something wrong, sir?”

  Edward frowned. “I’m not certain. I can’t think of any reason the girls would leave the ball.”

  “Unless they didn’t leave by their own choice.” Mrs. Harvey tapped her lined chin with her finger. “What if they were taken?”

  Torn between worry and surprise, he half growled out, “By whom?”

  “I would think that obvious, sir.”

  Edward glanced at her raised eyebrows and felt his heart drop when he realized what she was implying. “Howe would do that.”

  “My guess, as well.”

  Dread mingled with determination in his gut. “In that case, we’re going to have this little meeting earlier than we planned. The Druitts might know something that will help us find Maggy and Vienna.” He started toward the opposite side of the room, where Mrs. Druitt was conversing with a group of ladies. The woman’s husband had conveniently disappeared from the room, but Edward didn’t want to waste time looking for the man. They only needed one member of the Druitt family to start this meeting. Mrs. Harvey stayed right behind him as he moved through the crowd.

  “You’re coming, too?” he asked her.

  “Yes, sir.” She shot him an arched look. “Those girls are as close to being my own flesh and blood as they come.”

  Her presence—one that had been a part of his life for years now—brought a modicum of calm. As did the prayer he silently uttered for help before reaching Mrs. Druitt.

  “Evening, madam,” he announced with a false smile. “I need to whisk you away.”

  The woman looked confused. “For what purpose, Mr. Kent?”

  “I’ll explain on the way.”

  Seeing Mrs. Harvey behind him must have helped her decide to go with him. “I’ll be back shortly, ladies,” she said before sauntering toward the door. Edward caught the eye of the sheriff and nodded. Ten or not, it was time for their meeting.

  “This way to the anteroom,” Edward said when he reached the hallway. He gripped Mrs. Druitt by the elbow and steered her in that direction. “We’re a bit early, but being punctual is important, don’t you think?”

  Her cheeks instantly drained of color. “The...the anteroom? You mean you...” She attempted to recover as she tugged backward on his hold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Kent. And I’ll ask that you unhand me. Oh, look, Sheriff Tweed. Will you kindly ask this gentleman to leave me alone?”

  “Of co
urse, Mrs. Druitt.” The sheriff smiled as he tucked her arm in his and began walking forward—toward the anteroom.

  If Edward hadn’t felt so wound with concern, he might have laughed, especially when Mrs. Druitt threw him a smug look. “Thank you kindly, sheriff. I appreciate your...” Her voice faded when they stopped in front of the anteroom. “Wh-what are we doing here?”

  “We,” Edward said, moving past them to open the door, “are here for your meeting.”

  Mrs. Druitt released a squeak, but since she was still on the arm of the sheriff, she couldn’t escape. “I don’t know anything.”

  The sheriff’s gaze narrowed at her guilty reaction, but his tone was polite when he said, “We’d simply like to talk to you, Mrs. Druitt.”

  The woman huffed as she dropped into a chair. Mrs. Harvey took a seat, as well, while the sheriff perched on the corner of a nearby table. Edward took up a post beside the closed door.

  “Is there anything you can you tell us, Mrs. Druitt, about the threats against Mr. Kent here?” The sheriff nodded at Edward.

  She turned to face the wall. “I have no argument with Mr. Kent, other than this rudeness tonight.”

  “So you don’t know what happened to several of his horses,” Sheriff Tweed continued, “or the feed he ordered or the fire someone set to his stable?”

  The woman whipped around, her expression indignant. “I had nothing to do with any fire. Or with that buggy accident.”

  “He didn’t mention any buggy accident,” Edward said with satisfaction, which only increased when Mrs. Druitt turned ashen again. “Where is your husband?”

  “He’s around here somewhere.” She sniffed as if disinterested. “Perhaps he went over to the inn.”

  Edward folded his arms and leveled her with his firmest look. “I doubt that. My guess is wherever he is, that’s where we’ll find Mr. Howe. As well as Maggy and Vienna.”

  “They’re missing?” the sheriff asked, his expression confused and concerned. “How long have they been gone?”