Midafternoon of the fourth day, Rafe rode into Bastrop, stopping by the newspaper office just long enough to place an advertisement for the auction he intended to hold in nine days. He figured that would give him plenty of time to retrieve his cache of goods from their hiding place and categorize them in some semblance of order for the sale. That way he could make it back to Hotel Bliss in right around two weeks—not bad, if he said so himself.
He dropped by the Winning Ticket Ranch and ended up staying for supper. He entertained the Prescotts with stories about the trip and handed out the gifts he’d brought back for the children, an assortment of seashells, rocks, and other jungle prizes. To Luella, who so often suffered from rheumatism, Rafe presented a large bottle of Lake Bliss water. He soon had everyone laughing over his description of the dress-attacking iguana. Jason, especially, was mesmerized by the existence of such a creature.
“Sort of a cross between a horny-toad and a lizard, isn’t he?” the boy observed as he gazed at the pen and ink drawing Rafe had attempted.
“Yeah,” Rafe replied. Taking the opportunity to gig Jason about a recent prank, he added, “Except he’s a bit too big to be putting down anybody’s dress during the sermon in church.”
Jason’s complexion flushed as pink as the peach he was eating for dessert.
Rafe waited until the children were in bed to address his plan to liquidate his old-age stash. The announcement was met with a varied reaction. In the process of taking a draw on her pipe, Luella choked and coughed at Rafe’s news. Luke crunched a lemon drop, his brows lowered with concern. Honor sipped her tea as her lips lifted in a smug, secretive smile.
Seeing it, Rafe grimaced. “Don’t read more into this than what exists. All I’m doing is helping out some friends.”
“That’s a mighty big piece of help, Rafe,” Luke observed. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
Rafe shrugged. “The stuff is just sitting there. To be truthful, I’ll be glad to rid myself of the chore of keeping all those guns oiled.”
“So you’ll be a partner in the hotel with that handsome Ben Scovall?” Luella asked once she caught her breath.
“Well…” Rafe drawled. “Not exactly.”
“He’s giving them the money outright, Luella,” Honor said, her knowing gaze never leaving Rafe’s face.
Luke’s stare cut from his wife to Rafe. “Is that true? You’re giving the cash as a gift?”
Rafe nodded and Luke cursed, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigar with more force than was necessary. “You bedded her, didn’t you? Honor called it. We bet honors on naming the first filly out of Orange Blossom. Now I’ll get stuck with another horse named after a flower. Son of a gun, Malone, couldn’t you have kept your britches buttoned this once? I’ll bet those pirate papas of hers had a fit.”
Rafe didn’t like having his private life made the source of bets, but he knew it was useless to protest. Hoping to lead their speculations in another direction, he said, “Actually, my actions helped to save Snake MacKenzie’s life.”
Luella gasped. “Snake? What happened to dear Snake?”
Rafe told them about the brigand’s collapse and the doctor’s diagnosis of a heart ailment.
Luella shook her pipe stem at Rafe. “I should go to Hotel Bliss. That sweet little Maggie will need help. Honor, you and the children can manage by yourselves for a time, can you not? Rafe, you will take me with you when you go back there? You are returning soon?”
“Here’s your hat, what’s the hurry,” he replied dryly.
Luke appeared puzzled. “Why would you think you should go to Lake Bliss, Luella? You hardly know these people.”
“That’s the point, dear.” Honor tucked her arm through her husband’s. “Luella and Miss St. John’s guardians are all of an age.”
“Oh,” Luke said, the light obviously dawning. When it came to flirting, Luella Best could teach most of the women in Texas how the cow ate the cabbage.
Rafe grinned. “If you can be ready to leave ten days from today, I’ll be happy to escort you, Luella. I’m sure Maggie will enjoy having another woman around the place, and you will certainly find the mud baths to your liking.”
“I don’t know if I want her to go,” Honor said with exaggerated concern. “She might not want to come back.”
“Oh, of course I’ll come back,” the older woman said, clucking her tongue. “Gentlemen friends add spice to an old girl’s life, it’s true. But I can’t leave my grandbabies for long, you know. I’d purely pine away from loneliness.”
Rafe took his leave a short time later and arrived home shortly after dark. After a brief discussion with his foreman, he headed for bed. It felt good to be back at the Lone Star, his back all but giggled when it settled down into his own mattress to sleep. But as one day passed and then two, he was discomfited to discover how life around the Lone Star Ranch had changed. Where before he had enjoyed working mostly in solitude, now Rafe was lonely. To realize he missed a quartet of crusty corsairs made Rafe shake his head in wonder. However, the depths to which he yearned for Maggie came as no real surprise at all.
Shortly after noon on the fourth day following his return to the Lone Star, Rafe completed his inventory of guns and other assets in his cache. He heated leftover stew for his noon meal and had just poured the steaming mixture into a bowl when he heard the thundering thuds of a horse approaching fast.
“Honor must have sent one of the boys over to help,” he said to himself. Lifting the bowl, he carried it toward the door, pausing to spoon a bite or two into his mouth along the way. Treasure sorting made a man hungry.
He walked out onto the porch just as the rider halted his mount beside the hitching post. To Rafe’s surprise, it wasn’t Micah or Jason Best come to help, but another person entirely. “Ben Scovall!”
The pirate’s first words were enough to turn Rafe’s appetite to dust. “It’s Mary Margaret,” Ben said. “I fear she has gone off and done something stupid.”
Rafe went cold. Had she gone and married that son of a bitch Hill after all? “What happened? Is it… Hill?”
“The worm? No, he’s still hanging on at the hotel, lording his power over us all. Excluding Mary Margaret, that is. She’s run off.”
Before Rafe could ask another question, the old man swung wearily from the saddle. When his heels hit the ground, he nearly doubled over coughing. Rafe helped him inside, then quickly poured a cup of water. “Here. Drink this. I’ll care for your horse while you catch your breath. Then you can tell me all about it.”
“She wrote you a letter. It’s in my saddlebags.”
Rafe led Ben’s horse to the barn and with quick, efficient movements, saw to its needs. He grabbed the bags and headed for the cabin, but halfway there his curiosity got the better of him. He untied the lace and tossed back the flap. A folded sheet of paper lay on top.
Bad news. His gut told him so. Rafe’s heart beat double time, and his mouth went dry as a west Texas July. Slowly, he removed the sheet, then slung the saddlebags over his shoulder. Paper crinkled as he unfolded it. His eyes scanned the page and rage kindled inside him. Damn fool woman.
He stomped toward the house, waving the letter like a flag. “What the hell is this, Ben? Thanks but no thanks? Keep your money. You aren’t rich enough to help? No need to come back to Hotel Bliss?” He threw the bags on the floor beside the chair where the old pirate captain sat. “I’m willing to hand over my life’s savings, and she doesn’t want it?”
“I read the letter. That’s not what she said.”
“Not in those exact words, maybe, but that’s the gist of it.” Rafe yanked a chair back from the kitchen table, flipped it around, and straddled it. Tossing the paper down onto the table, he asked, “What’s this all about? What has she up and done?”
Sighing wearily, Ben raked his fingers through his snow white hair. “She told us about your offer. Before I go any further, allow me to express my appreciation for your generosity. It was more than kind.�
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“But it wasn’t enough?”
“Hill’s selling price is one hundred twenty-five thousand American dollars.”
Rafe’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s crazy! That property isn’t worth half that much. What is he thinking?”
“He never intended to sell us back the land. Knowing what our treasure was worth, we manipulated him into making the offer. Anything less and he would have balked.”
“But a hundred twenty-five thousand?” Rafe pushed to his feet and began to pace. “That’s robbery! And I should know!”
Ben Scovall shrugged. “The money meant little to us. Mary Margaret is all that matters, and now she’s in trouble. We’re not a hundred percent sure, but we think she’s gone to Triumph.”
“Montgomery’s plantation. Isn’t that what you’d predicted she would do?”
“I thought she’d reconcile with him. It never occurred to me that she’d try and steal back our treasure.”
Rafe froze midstep. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
“She intends to do the stealing herself. She left the same day you did. We didn’t discover her note until the next morning. She asked me to bring this letter to you, and she asked Gus to watch closely over Snake.”
“And Lucky?”
“She said she knew we’d go after her, but someone had to stay with Snake. She figured Gus needed the rest following the Caribbean trip, so that left Lucky for the task. He and I rode together as far as Huntsville. We missed her by less than a day. She caught the coach north to Nacogdoches. Lucky headed after her while I came here.”
“And Triumph Plantation lies a day’s ride from Nacogdoches.” Rafe thought it over a few minutes, then said, “Maybe she’s just going to visit with him. Maybe this has nothing to do with the treasure.”
“That’s not what she said in her note.”
“Damn.” Rafe resumed his pacing. “But it’s not a sure thing Montgomery will catch her. Your granddaughter is smart; she might just outwit him.”
“But what if she doesn’t?”
“Tell me what he’d likely do if he caught her red—handed.”
“Mary Margaret has his eyes. When he looks at her, he will see her mother. Everywhere but the eyes, that is.”
“Will that help or hurt?”
Ben Scovall sighed. “He loved Abigail. Heart and soul. Then he hated her just as much. As far as I know, he has not laid eyes on Maggie since before she went away to school. She has matured during those years, and she now looks exactly like the woman who sliced out Andrew’s heart. I have no guess as to how he’ll react once he sees her. Except, if he were to catch her in the act, I fear it would bring back ugly memories.” Ben paused and cleared his throat. “Malone, I need to ask a favor of you.”
Rafe rubbed his jaw with the palm of his hand. “You want me to go after her.”
“Yes. Gus felt certain you would.”
“Gus is an intelligent man. Tell me everything you know about Montgomery.”
They spent the next twenty minutes cussing and discussing Maggie’s father and developing a plan to save her from herself. “I’ll leave this afternoon,” Rafe said. “I’ll write a letter and you can take it over to Luke’s for me. He’ll help you do what’s needed to handle the auction. I don’t see a need for you to rush back to Lake Bliss once that’s taken care of. Stay a few days either here or with the Prescotts and rest up a bit. Luella will be tickled to have the company.”
Ben drew himself up tall. “I do not require rest. I could travel with you today if need be.”
“I know, but you’ll be more help to me here in Bastrop dealing with the auction. Besides, I’m liable to catch up with Lucky somewhere along the way.”
“Try Gallagher’s Tavern and Travelers Inn,” Ben suggested, giving in gracefully in the face of Rafe’s argument. “It’s a coach stop a day this side of Nacogdoches. They’ll be able to tell you if either Mary Margaret or Lucky has been through that way.”
“Gallagher’s? I know the place well. I once hid behind the bar when the posse chasing me decided to drown their frustration in some of John Gallagher’s Irish.”
“He didn’t turn you in?”
“John Gallagher? Heavens, no. He liked me. He said my gift for blarney was the finest he’d seen this side of the Emerald Isle itself. I’ve passed some mighty fine hours at that tavern. Mighty fine.”
“I’ll tell you what, Malone.” Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a Spanish gold coin. “Find my Mary Margaret and bring her home safe and sound, and a bottle of Gallagher’s best is on me.”
“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse. I’ll do my best, Ben.” Rafe tucked the coin into his shirt pocket. “You have my word on it.”
Chapter 12
Dawn painted a blush across the east Texas sky as Maggie sat beside the window watching the day come alive. The soreness in her joints had kept her awake a good portion of the night, and now she grimaced with pain as she lifted her arm and pushed a frilly yellow curtain farther back. The faintest of smiles touched her lips as she watched a big yellow dog chase a frog across the yard in front of Gallagher’s Tavern and Travelers Inn.
The inn’s door opened and a pair of young boys spilled out onto the porch. With shouts of laughter they launched themselves after the animals, and for the next few minutes devoted themselves to running off some of the high spirits a good night’s sleep and hearty breakfast could create in two little boys.
Maggie wanted desperately to run and play with them. Instead she bided her time here in the small bedroom built onto the inn’s summer kitchen which, like at Lake Bliss, was a separate structure from the inn’s main building. Her room was not one the inn’s current proprietor, Mrs. Craig, ordinarily rented. But upon witnessing the difficulty Maggie experienced while climbing the stairs to the guest rooms, Mrs. Craig had clucked her tongue with concern and shown Maggie down the hill to this cozy little place.
The spell had come on slowly. In hindsight, Maggie acknowledged she’d ignored signs of it before leaving Lake Bliss. The stiffness in her joints. The heat in her knees, ankles, and even her toes. Still, it hadn’t been until she climbed down from the stagecoach at Gallagher’s after three days of constant travel that she realized just what she was facing. A full-fledged rheumatic attack. The challenge had returned with a vengeance.
And she had only one bottle of Bliss water packed away in her baggage.
Knowing what to expect, Maggie had done what she could to prepare for the onslaught. Mrs. Craig had been a godsend, checking on her periodically throughout the days. Although younger and certainly more sprightly, she reminded Maggie of Luella Best in a number of ways. Maggie liked that. For some reason, it made her feel closer to Rafe.
Maggie blinked back the tears that flooded her eyes at the thought. Funny how she could lie in bed tormented by waves of racking pain, and she never cried a drop. But all she had to do was think Rafe’s name and the waterworks commenced. “You’re pitiful, Maggie St. John. Purely pitiful.”
She was also getting tired.
Turning away from the window, she eyed the bed. It seemed so very far away.
A knock sounded on the door. “Magpie? Are you awake?” Lucky’s muffled voice called.
He had arrived yesterday, and Maggie had to admit she’d been happy to see him. She’d known from the start that at least one of the papas would come after her, but she had fully expected to have tricked the treasure away from Andrew Montgomery by the time her grandfathers arrived. She hadn’t planned on getting sick. “Come in, Papa.”
Door hinges squeaked and Lucky stepped inside. He took one look at her and scrunched his face into the scowl that had struck fear into men across the seven seas. “What are you doing out of bed! You’ll cause yourself harm walking around when you’re in the shape you are in. Come now, girl, haven’t you a lick of sense?”
Maggie smiled and asked softly, “Help me back to bed, Papa?”
A thread of fear entered Lucky’s narrowing
eyes, and Maggie silently cursed herself. One of her methods for fighting the illness was never to ask for help unless she truly needed it. She’d learned long ago that maintaining her independence in little ways made a big difference in how she felt about herself. Her grandfathers understood that, so when she’d requested Papa Lucky’s assistance, she’d inadvertently caused him added worry. That only made her feel worse.
Lucky put his arm around her waist. “Lean on me, child.”
“I’m not a child,” she protested, because he would expect it.
“Then quit acting like one.” He lowered his voice to a mutter as he escorted her back to bed. “Only brings one bottle of Bliss water with her. Won’t stay in bed when she needs to. Frets herself into sickness.”
“Now, Papa,” Maggie said.
“It’s the truth, Magpie. I know in my heart that worry brought on this spell. Ben was wrong. We never should have told you about Drew.” He emptied the last of Maggie’s bottle of Bliss water into a glass and held it out for her to take. “It’s been too much for you. Losing the hotel, losing the treasure, almost losing Snake, then taking off on this fool’s mission—it’s little wonder you’ve stirred up the Old Devil.”
Old Devil was the pirates’ nickname for her rheumatism. Maggie couldn’t argue with him. For one thing, she agreed that anxiety played a negative role in a person’s health. Things simply didn’t flow right when a person was tied up in knots. Second, Maggie didn’t have the energy to argue. Her excursion to the window seemed to have sapped the energy right out of her bones even as it fed the flames in her joints. “I think I’ll sleep some more, Papa.”
“That’s a good idea, but I want you to drink your water first.” Lucky supported her back while she took the tonic. When she emptied the glass, he lay her gently upon the mattress and tucked the covers up around her chin. She gritted her teeth against the groans that moving wrenched out of her.
The Wedding Ransom Page 19