Texas Tiger TH3

by Patricia Rice

  Janice nodded in understanding. "It's all right. We'll get by. The boarding house is much cheaper, actually, since it comes with two meals a day. And if you can keep the factory open, Audrey will make much better wages working for you." Tentatively, she touched Georgina's arm. "You'll feel better after you have a bite to eat. Did you know that Egan tried to collect the rents the other day?"

  Georgina listened listlessly.

  Janice guided her toward the dining room. "He didn't collect one penny. The men followed him everywhere so he couldn't even take out his wrath on any of us. The boys have set up shifts at all the corners now so he can't get past without everyone knowing. We sent a list of demands to Mulloney himself."

  Georgina nodded and smiled and let the words fall around her. The only thought in her mind, however, was how soon she would hear from Daniel's family.

  * * *

  Georgina dug her fingers into her hair and contemplated pulling it out as she stared at the figures on the paper in front of her. On the best of days the numbers made no sense to her, and this wasn't the best of days. Her gaze strayed to the crumpled telegram on the corner of the desk.

  The Monteignes hadn't heard from Daniel, but they were making inquiries. In the meantime, they were on their way north. She should expect them shortly.

  What in the world would she do with Evie and Tyler Monteigne while her whole world crumbled around her? Maybe she ought to send them over to visit Peter's mother. That plea had nagged at her all day along with all her other problems. Why hadn't she considered Mrs. Mulloney earlier? She had never heard anything against the woman. She even vaguely remembered her as a sweet and rather fragile piece of her past. Artemis Mulloney had probably walked all over her until she was no more than a shadow inhabiting the upper stories of the house.

  The men in the Mulloney family were like that. Georgina scowled and stared at the figures some more. But she wasn't going to be like the women of the Mulloney family. She wasn't going to be like her mother, either. She would fight back, if it killed her. The way this day was proceeding, it just might. At least she'd be out of her misery then.

  Rubbing at a wayward tear, Georgina glanced up as one of Janice's assistants entered. Janice had taken the day off to move into the boarding house. Even the Harrisons would be gone when she got home this evening. Maybe she could eat dinner in the kitchen with the servants.

  "Miss Han... Mrs. Mulloney?"

  Georgina nodded impatiently.

  "We've got two crates full. Do you want to ship them tonight?"

  "That's not enough to fill the Norton order, is it?"

  "No, ma'am, but it's enough for the Rottingham one."

  "I want to fill the large orders first. They pay faster and they might order more quickly if we're prompt. We'll wait until you have the rest of their order together."

  "Yes, ma'am." The woman bobbed a brief curtsy and disappeared through the doorway.

  Georgina stared after her, rubbing her head. Lack of sleep was catching up with her. She would wish the day at an end if she only had someone to go home to, but the thought of that empty house made even the factory a welcome haven. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have the Monteignes come to stay for a while.

  But her new five o'clock closing time came all too soon, and the happy laughter of departing workers quickly grew into the deadly silence of an empty building.

  Refusing to give in to it, Georgina bent her head over her work. Now that there wouldn't be any interruptions, she could get something done.

  From his vantage point at the window of the warehouse, Daniel watched the workers leaving the factory for the day. Georgina's carriage waited outside, but one of the women stopped to talk to the driver, and a moment later, it lurched away without Georgina in it.

  Blast the woman, she shouldn't be working in this part of town at this hour. He'd like to wring her neck. Surely she didn't think Artemis would let her keep the place?

  But he had thrown away his right to interfere, so Daniel could only fiddle with what remained of his press and wait for Georgina to appear. He just wanted to see her, to be certain she was holding up all right. He knew she was in there. He had seen her at lunchtime talking with the workers on the front lawn. He bet her father had never bothered to do that.

  He didn't know how good a plant manager Georgina would make, but she would make a darn good personnel manager. Peter should have married her. He could have managed the factory, and she could have dealt with the employees. Together, they would have made a fortune.

  The idea of Georgina turning to his brother for comfort made Daniel grit his teeth and go back to cleaning the ink from the piece he held in his hand. He ought to let her go, but he couldn't—not until he was certain she would be happier without him.

  It was pure male conceit that made him think she might be better off with him than without him. He knew that, but still he sat, staring out the window, waiting for Georgina to show her face. He didn't expect her to be smiling. He didn't know what to expect. He just wanted to keep an eye on her for a few days and make sure Artemis kept his promises.

  It was still light out when he looked up and saw the first curl of smoke coming through the factory window. Daniel wasn't certain he was seeing right, and he put the piece down that he was working on and tried to get a better look. Normally, he could see distances much better than up close, but he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

  Did they have a fireplace in there? Would they operate a stove after everyone but Georgina had left?

  Trying not to panic, Daniel set himself an easy pace out the door and down the stairs. That jump from the train last night and the resulting long hike to civilization had worked at his weak leg muscles. He didn't want to go tumbling headfirst down the stairs.

  By the time he reached the street, his heart was pounding like a frantic drum. The smoke could have been just an illusion in the warped glass. Georgina might not even be in there. There was no reason to believe there was a fire in a factory that had been there for decades. No reason at all.

  Except for the flame now leaping through the window where the smoke had been earlier.

  Screaming fire at the top of his lungs in hopes that someone would hear, Daniel ran for the office across the street. Couldn't Georgina smell the smoke?

  He heard other shouts behind him, heard the harsh gallop of a horse as someone raced for the fire department. Fire in these old buildings could be deadly. He would have help in minutes, but he couldn't wait that long.

  Smoke poured from the office as Daniel flung open the front door. Heat washed over him in waves, but there was no sign of fire in the lobby as yet. Covering his mouth and nose with his handkerchief, Daniel shoved past the chairs and secretary's desk and made his way to the tiny room in the back of the building, Georgina's office.

  By the time he flung open the door, he was coughing heavily and sweat poured off him from the heat. Smoke made the dim interior even murkier, and it took a moment to focus. He prayed she wasn't here. Surely she would have smelled the smoke and left earlier. Surely she wouldn't have gone into the factory to investigate the source of the fire. If there was a Lord in the heaven above, He wouldn't let someone like Miss Merry die in an inferno like this.

  He found Georgina with her head resting on her arms on the desk as if she had gone to sleep and hadn't awoken. Daniel gripped her shoulders and called her name, but she didn't stir. Panic raced through his veins as swiftly as the trail of fire coming through the wall. He hadn't rescued her once to lose her this way.

  There wasn't time to think or grieve or pray. Pulling Georgina into his arms, Daniel started back for the door, only to see another trail of flames creep up the wall to the ceiling. Whatever was burning on the other side of that wall had finally reached a state of combustion that would ignite the entire building in minutes. He didn't have time to cross both offices and get out, not carrying Georgina.

  Without a quiver, Daniel turned and crashed his shoulder against the windowpane behin
d him, shattering the glass. Flinging Georgina over his shoulder, he used his coat sleeve to knock splinters from the frame. Only when he was satisfied the exit was safe did he lower Georgina through it.

  She crumpled lifelessly on the ground outside. Daniel had already stopped feeling any emotion at all. His brain had quit functioning the instant he'd touched her and felt no response. Like the machines on the other side of the wall, he moved stiffly and without reason, going through the motions for which he was made.

  He climbed through the window and bent to lift Georgina from the ground. He could hear the excited shouts of people carrying a water line to the pumps. In the distance he heard the clang of a firebell. None of that mattered. His life was in his hands now, and Daniel carried her through the darkened alley to the street. If she lived, he would survive. If she didn't, he had died in the fire with her. He knew that as certainly as he knew where his feet were carrying him.

  No one saw them as he lifted her through the unboarded window of the warehouse across the street. He needed no light to carry her up the familiar stairs to the room they had shared together.

  He laid her on the bed that had been left behind when they abandoned the building. She unfolded like a lifeless doll, spilling arms and legs across the cover. This was more than sleep, then.

  Daniel reached a trembling hand to Georgina's cheek, whispering her name. He sat beside her, willing her to respond as he stroked her face. Desperate, he leaned over and applied his lips to hers. They were warm, but seemingly lifeless.

  He pulled her into his arms, forcing her upright, holding her over his shoulder as he hugged her and murmured senseless words in her ear. He ran his hands up and down her back, gently at first, then more vigorously. His murmurs became anguished cries of pain when she didn't respond.

  "Georgina, answer me! My God, don't leave me like this! You can't leave me. You're all I have, Georgina. Wake up and wish me to the devil, Georgie, but don't go away. Please, Georgie..."

  Daniel was crying now, huge tears rolling unashamedly down his beard-stubbled cheeks as he rubbed her back and buried kisses against her throat. "I love you, Georgina," he whispered desperately, suddenly knowing it was true, recognizing it with a stab of bitter anguish. "I love you. I just want you to be happy. Please, God, let her live. I'll do anything. I'll never curse. I'll never take Your name in vain. I'll honor my father. Lord, anything! Please..."

  Daniel's voice trailed off in waves of sobs as he rocked Georgina back and forth, waiting for some miracle in a life that had been filled with anything but miracles.

  In the silence left by his tears, a low moan sounded, followed by a wracking cough.

  Daniel ran his fingers deep into Georgina's hair and gave a heartfelt prayer of thanks even as she bent double with a spasm of coughing that shook them both.

  Chapter 36

  He was afraid to let her go, afraid she would slip away from him again, but he needed to get her water. Daniel held Georgina tightly as spasms of coughing struck her so hard he feared the attacks would spit out her lungs.

  He needed to call a physician, but he couldn't bear to leave her. He had never been the sort to panic easily, but he couldn't think for the terror blurring his mind. He couldn't lose Georgina. Not now. Not ever. The shouts and noises from the street below joined the anguished scream of fear inside his skull.

  Fighting for some form of rationality, Daniel piled pillows behind Georgina's head so she could lean against them while he unfastened her bodice. He thanked Whoever watched over them that she had worn a gown that buttoned up the front. The way his hands were shaking, he didn't think he could hold her up and unfasten back hooks.

  With trembling fingers he ripped open the corset beneath, and Georgina took a gasping breath that brought another attack of coughing. This time, her lashes fluttered a little, and Daniel's heart fluttered with them.

  "Georgina, try to breathe easy. Don't gulp, sweetheart. It's going to be all right." The words didn't make sense even to him, but they seemed to soothe her. "I'm going to get you a cup of water. I'll be right back. Just breathe easy, and I'll be right here."

  He thought she nodded slightly, and taking a deep gulp of air for himself, Daniel hurried to fetch a cup of water, thankful whoever had condemned the building hadn't shut off the plumbing.

  When he returned, she was moving restlessly on the bed. The coughs weren't so heavy now. He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms again. "I've brought you water, sweetheart. Sip it slowly. That's a girl." He was talking more to reassure himself than for Georgina's benefit. He held the cup to her lips and tilted it so the water dribbled gently down her throat. She pushed away to cough again, then reached for the cup herself.

  Daniel was certain his heart had stuck in his throat as she drank thirstily. He wanted to weep and offer prayers of gratitude and wild promises to a God he had thought meant for others and not for him. He'd dutifully attended church on Sundays when forced by the women in his life, but he'd never gone on his own. That was going to change now, he promised. He would be right by Georgina's side when she marched through those church doors.

  "Daniel?" Her words were uncertain, husky from her raw throat. Her gaze met his with disbelief and a thousand questions.

  "You didn't really think I could stay away, did you?" He stroked her hair lightly, not daring more. "I didn't get halfway to Cincinnati before I realized I couldn't live without a heart, and you've got mine."

  She made a sound that almost sounded like a giggle, and Daniel felt a foolish grin spreading across his face.

  "You're a cad and a scoundrel," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder to cough some more.

  "I'm doing my damnedest to be a hero, Miss Merry, but I'm not as good at it as I ought to be. I came back to tell you I love you and to ask you to marry me. Do you think you might, if I hang around long enough?"

  Georgina clung to his shirt and tried to laugh again through a spasm of coughing. She shook her head, and Daniel thought his heart just might plunge to his feet, but he set his lips and hoped. "If loving you isn't enough, what else can I do?" he demanded, desperately needing to know.

  "I want a husband," she coughed, "not a hero."

  Daniel settled her against his side and stroked her hair. Even through the smoke he could smell lilies, and he smiled. He could imagine waking up to the smell of lilies for the rest of his life. The warm pressure of Georgina's breasts stirred other desires, but he resisted. Now wasn't the time. He didn't know when the time would be, but he'd find it. She was going to be his now, if he had to burn the whole damned town to the ground to prove it.

  "I think I could arrange that, Georgie, if you tell me you want to be a wife. I can't promise to be a very good husband. We may have to leave this town. You'd better think long and hard before you make any decisions. I'll give you all the time you want."

  "Stupid," she muttered, pounding weakly at his chest. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

  Daniel felt laughter gathering in his chest, and tears of relief followed the trails of grief marked earlier. "I have to get you out of here, Miss Merry. I have to take you to a doctor, but I can't let anyone know I'm back yet. I don't want my father throwing you out of your house until I'm ready to go."

  He thought she muttered something that sounded like "Damn the house," but he was probably hearing things. Holding her to his side, he stood up, and she managed a wobbly footstep beside him. He peered through a crack in the boarded windows and watched the chaos below. Off to one side waited a carriage that could only be Georgina's. A very worried Blucher stalked up and down beside it.

  "Your carriage is down there, Georgie. I'll take you to it and let Blucher take you home. Don't tell anyone you saw me, Georgie. Do you understand?"

  "No," she grumbled, but the coughing prevented any further argument.

  "Then you'll have to trust me." Daniel tilted her chin up until their eyes met. "I love you, Miss Merry. Can you trust me just a little bit?"

  "After I kill you," she managed
to get out with enough vigor to be heard.

  Daniel grinned. "I'll make it easy for you. I'll loan you my gun just as soon as I'm finished with what I'm going to do."

  Her eyes darkened, but he didn't give her time to question. Without a word of warning, he swept her into his arms again and started for the door. There was one advantage to having a small woman for a wife—she was easy to sweep off her feet.

  Blucher looked up in relief as Daniel emerged from the shadows and deposited Georgina in the carriage. She was too weak to protest and sank into the cushions with another spasm of coughing. With a few words of caution and a command to find her a physician, Daniel sent her driver and the carriage off. He thought he saw Georgina watch him through the window, but he didn't dare follow. Not yet.

  Picking up a cap lying discarded in the street, Daniel slid it down over his forehead and worked his way into the crowd. It was time to find out what this fire was all about.

  * * *

  Georgina lay propped against the pillows of her bed the next morning, still coughing but not so badly after a night of rest. She sipped carefully at the medicine the doctor—Dr. Phelps and not her father's treacherous Dr. Ralph—had provided and tried to remember the horrible nightmare of the night before.

  She was certain she had dreamed Daniel was there, a penitent Daniel who declared he loved her. An almost penitent Daniel, she amended, vaguely remembering some of his words. He had laughed at her, she remembered, and she had tried to hit him, but he'd said he loved her. And if her memory wasn't all askew, he had rescued her from the burning factory.

  That part was almost certainly true. It would be typical of Daniel to play the hero rather than wait for help. The declaration of love she wasn't so certain about. That could have been wishful dreaming. It didn't seem nearly as likely as Daniel playing hero. And she didn't see him here worrying over her bedside, either. She could very well have imagined that part.

  Peter arrived as Georgina sipped at her breakfast. She didn't have much stomach for toast, but the juice felt good going down. She threw Peter a look of disdain and reached for her coffee.