“I took a job piloting a boat downriver. Went as far as Natchez. Came back and picked up another one, went down again. In between I stopped off to see a friend in Kentucky who was looking to thin out his herd. I thought I’d give it to your father.”
She stopped walking. “That’s too generous,” she said, unwilling for her family to owe him any more than they already did.
“I bought it as a favor to a friend. What am I going to do with a horse? Can you see it up in the treehouse?”
She found herself laughing for the first time in days. All too soon they reached the store. Now and again a passerby would stop and stare at Noah and then move on. At least no one started singing.
“Why don’t you go on in, do what you need to do. I’ll walk you and the others home,” he suggested.
She wanted nothing more than to linger with him, but tried to change his mind. “I’m sure we can handle the horse, if you don’t want to go back with us.”
He stared back.
“All right,” she said. “When I finish I’ll find the boys and Molly and meet you here in an hour.”
Noah walked into a tavern, a log structure filled with men on the move who needed a respite from the rigors of life in the West. He had been in the area for three days now, long enough for the townsfolk to become accustomed to him. The curious still stared.
His needing a drink was rare, but after seeing Olivia he decided a shot of whiskey might settle his nerves. He couldn’t feel any worse.
Unless he took Hunter’s final words of advice and came right out and asked her to marry him, this would be the last time he might ever see her.
He ordered a whiskey and carried the glass over to a table on the far side of the room. From there he could watch the door. He had to sit elbow-to-elbow with a group of blackjack players at the table beside him, but after the usual once-over and expressions of recognition, they paid him no mind.
With his pack on the floor beside him and his rifle propped against the wall, Noah forced himself to sip the whiskey slowly, hoping it would give him all the courage he needed.
The vegetable baskets were pounds lighter now that only a bit of red fabric, some buttons and thread were inside. Olivia stood outside the store, looked toward the river, and hoped tracking down the boys wouldn’t take long. Shawneetown was more crowded with emigrants on the move than townsfolk.
After the isolation of the homestead, it was a joy to be out among people again, even though her heart was heavy. She walked along wondering how long it would be before she had to tell Noah good-bye again.
She stood in front of the hotel, watching a ferry crossing the river. On the other side of the Ohio, wagons, horses, and travelers on foot were lined up, prepared to wait for hours to cross into Illinois.
A flash of sunlight on a man’s light blond hair caught her eye. The familiar tilt of his head momentarily paralyzed her. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Bile rose up in her throat and for a moment she was afraid she might actually swoon. She put a hand against the side of the building to brace herself and stepped back into the shadows. As if a terrible nightmare were unfolding before her eyes, she watched Darcy Lankanal and a man she had once seen at the Palace in Darcy’s office. They were strolling along the waterfront in heated conversation.
Her mind cried out for her to run, but her legs would not obey. Then, Darcy raised his head, as if he heard the terrified tattoo of her heart and sensed her presence. He slowly turned and surveyed the crowd milling about around him. As Olivia watched, helpless as a fly tangled in a spider’s web, he turned his gaze on her.
The instant he recognized her, his expression froze. Then he smiled, a slow spreading smile on a too-handsome face. She was drawn to him, forced to step out of the shadows and walk toward him, not out of any mutual sense of attraction, but like a pet trained to obey.
She watched him say something to his companion. The older man looked at her with a smug smile and walked away. Olivia stood there trembling, hoping Molly and the boys wouldn’t choose that exact moment to appear, wishing there were a way she could escape the inevitable, knowing there was not.
Overwhelming fear, not for herself, but for Noah, came over her. If he saw her with Darcy and guessed who the man was, there was no guaranteeing what he might do.
Darcy was upon her, smiling a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“So, Olivia, we meet again. I knew I would find you eventually.”
She lifted her chin, feigning confidence she did not possess, daring him to try anything in broad daylight.
“Now that you have, you can turn right around and go back to New Orleans.”
“Not without you,” he said.
“I’m afraid things have changed, Darcy.”
“Nothing has changed. I still own you.”
“I’m no slave.”
“Nor are you free. I paid good money for you, a small fortune in some men’s eyes. You still owe me.”
“I was stolen from my family and you know it.”
He shrugged, a slow, lazy movement, a slight rise of the shoulder, barely perceptible. “I have no proof of that.”
Her family lived so near, was so vulnerable.
He reached out, tried to draw her to him. She resisted, stepped back, but he was stronger.
“Relax, Olivia. Just relax and remember how good it can be between us.”
It was no use to try to fight him physically, so instead, she tried to win at his game. She leaned into him, raised herself on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. Nothing moved inside her, nothing stirred except revulsion, but through the thin fabric of her calico gown she felt his immediate arousal and let him kiss her, kissing him back without feeling, and yet provoking him, teasing him. Then, once he was off guard, she broke the kiss and stepped an arm’s length away.
Surprise and then anger swept across his finely drawn, aristocratic features.
“I’m not that woman anymore, Darcy.”
“Yes, you are. If you were smart you would admit it and come with me. Now.” He glanced around at the bustling crowd on the street as people streamed through the town. “We can do this nice and easy, Olivia, or we can do it the hard way, but I’m going to have you.”
“Never again.”
“You grew used to my touch, Olivia. What happened? Did the half-breed hurt you? Has he made you hate men?”
The half-breed.
So, he already knew of Noah, of Noah’s connection to her. How? Had he seen them together earlier?
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I’ve been here for two days, asking around about you and your family, finding out all I could. I’ve even seen your one-eyed hero, Olivia. I could have killed him by now, you know. The only thing that’s kept him alive is the idea that I thought I might have needed to use him as bait to lure you in. I figured as long as he was strutting around town that you would show your face sooner or later.”
She swallowed bile again. Darcy had been in town for two days, walking the same streets as Noah, watching him from afar. One bullet, one thrust of a knife and Noah might have been dead already. His blood would be on her hands, his only crime loving her.
“Leave me alone, Darcy, leave Noah alone, or I swear to God I’ll go right to Ern Matheson, the keeper of the peace, and tell him everything. It’ll be my word against yours.”
He laughed. “You’ll tell him everything! You’ll tell him how you learned to like it when I made love to you? How you screamed every time I came inside you, Olivia? Will you tell him how much you begged for release?” He folded his arms across his brocade vest. “Go ahead and tell him everything. I’m sure your family will find the details interesting—even if they know the whole sordid story already.”
Her palms were damp. She could barely breathe.
“You have plenty of other girls, Darcy. You don’t need me.”
As if he could see right through her clothing, he stared at the front of her gown. “Oh, but I do, Oli
via. I do need you.”
“Even you wouldn’t stoop to murder.”
“You think not?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t we just see about that?” He was looking over her shoulder now. “Looks like your hero is on his way.”
Ern Matheson had walked up to Noah in the tavern and took him aside, told him that a slick-looking gambler from New Orleans had been in town a couple of days asking questions about the Bonds. Seeing as how Noah was close to the family, Ern said he thought Noah ought to know. The minute Matheson was through, Noah set down his empty whiskey glass, picked up his rifle, shouldered his pack and hurried out the door.
And discovered he had not moved fast enough.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck were bristling as Noah walked down the street toward Olivia and the tall, hatless stranger by the river. The cut of the man’s clothes were far superior to those of the farmers and homesteaders milling around the flatboats or driving down the street on wagons loaded high with their possessions. The sun glinted off the man’s light hair and the front of his shining satin waistcoat.
No one had to tell him that man was Darcy Lankanal. He could see it in Olivia’s stance, in the look on her face. Why didn’t she walk away? What was holding her there?
Noah saw Darcy Lankanal glance up. The gambler said something else to Olivia that suddenly made her stiffen. Noah picked up his pace and reached them in five long strides. Olivia whirled around. She said nothing. He stepped up beside her and stood close enough to feel her shaking like a leaf in a high wind. Compelled to let her know she was safe, he slipped an arm around her shoulders.
Darcy Lankanal’s mouth hardened into a grim line. Noah silently challenged him with a look. He could see that the man was hard put to control himself. The gambler stood with his feet apart, braced to attack, his hands fisted at his sides. The last thing Noah wanted was to have to fight this man, especially in front of the whole town.
“Ah,” Lankanal drawled. “You must be the famous Noah LeCroix. The flatboat pilot.” He had a way of pronouncing every word as if it were profane.
“That would be me.” Noah acknowledged him with a nod.
“Noah, please. Let’s go,” Olivia whispered.
She was shaking so violently that he feared she wouldn’t be able to keep her feet.
“Does he know about you?” Darcy asked her, ignoring Noah for the moment. “Does he know about us?”
“I know all about her and what you did to her, Lankanal. None of that matters to me.”
“I see my name and reputation proceeds me, too,” Darcy smiled. “Hounds are used to scraps. They’ll welcome another man’s leavings. Now me, I’m particular.” He focused on Olivia. “Remember what I told you, Olivia. You will see me again.” Then he looked at Noah long and hard before he turned back to her again. “It’s just a matter of time.”
Darcy marveled at his own strength when he turned and walked away, for there was a deep darkness clouding his mind. When Telford Betts rushed up to join him, he still could not concentrate on anything but Olivia.
Even dressed like a pauper, she was more beautiful than any woman he had ever known. He could not remember feeling this way before; certainly he had never expected such a jolt when he saw her again. He shook his head, trying to fathom what had come over him.
Threatening LeCroix’s life had not been enough to persuade her to come along with him. After seeing the way she had looked at the man, he knew why. Obviously, Olivia had somehow deluded herself into thinking that she was actually in love with the half-breed. The way she had stared at LeCroix, glowing and radiant despite her obvious fear, had been a kick in the gut. One thing was certain. There would be no having her as long as LeCroix was around.
Betts was practically yelling in his ear. Darcy stared down at his hands. He had never killed a man. The threats he had voiced had been for Olivia’s benefit, but after seeing the way she had gazed up at LeCroix, he could almost consider killing.
Betts put his hand on Darcy’s sleeve and tugged hard. Darcy stopped walking. They were almost back to the hotel.
“What, man?” When he realized he was yelling, Darcy lowered his voice. “What in the hell do you want?”
“My money.” Betts’s voice was hushed but furtive. He flushed beet red, his neck oozing over a too-tight collar.
“Not until I have her.” Darcy tried to walk away. The land agent held onto his sleeve, wrinkling the expensive material. Darcy tried to uncurl the man’s fingers one by one.
“I held up my end of the bargain,” Betts whined.
“When I get her, you’ll get paid. For now, shut up, Betts.”
“But—”
Darcy turned on the man. “Shut up! I’m thinking.”
Betts backed down but matched his stride as they went through the door of the hotel.
If he couldn’t get to Olivia, Darcy decided he would go to her father. The very idea that she would choose to live here, in this backwoods mudhole, dressed in a plain dress with a mud-stained hem, wearing the moccasins of a savage instead of silk slippers, was beyond him. She could be living in grand style in New Orleans, where he would dress her like a queen, give her the finest of everything.
As they entered the hotel, the odor of boiled cabbage hit him. He had not seen very many people around who did not look as poor as church mice. Maybe Olivia’s return had been viewed by her family as nothing more than a bad penny turning up again. Perhaps she was just one more unwanted mouth to feed and her father would not hesitate to sell her. After all, he had given her away before. Darcy decided all he had to do was offer the man what a settler would consider a small fortune and he’d have Olivia again.
He nearly collided with Jewel McGuire, the proprietor of the hotel, a whiskey barrel of a man who reeked of liquor. He sidestepped the man, lost in thought, unable to forget the way Olivia had looked up at Noah LeCroix. He could not get the memory out of his mind.
He had to get to her father, right away, before she went whining to him for protection. How long would she and LeCroix be in town?
Walking upstairs, Darcy stopped so abruptly that Betts ran into him.
“Come with me,” he said, turning around, heading down again. “I want you to watch my back while I rent a horse at the livery.”
Betts’s upper lip was coated with sweat, his florid face nearly purple. “Where are you going?”
“To make a poor man an offer he can’t refuse.”
After she watched Darcy walk away, Olivia turned immediately to Noah and was amazed at his transformation. Gone was the caring, sensitive man who had given her sanctuary. She could feel his anger, so strong it almost made her recoil; she knew that if she did not act quickly, he was going to take it upon himself to see that Darcy never bothered her again. If that happened, she hated to think of the outcome.
She was cursed. She had to be. Since the attack on the river, trouble followed her everywhere. This time she had led it straight to Noah in the form of Darcy Lankanal. Her past and her present had just collided.
Dear God, she thought suddenly, what if Darcy had been watching the homestead? What if he knew the boys on sight? She became frantic to find them.
“I have to get home.” She voiced her immediate thought aloud. “We have to find the boys and Molly and head back.”
Noah grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn and look at him.
“Olivia, you have nothing to fear from him. Trust me.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know him. I don’t want you anywhere near him. Please, promise me you won’t do anything, Noah. Give me your word.”
He pulled her in the direction of the wharf. “Let’s find the boys.”
She tugged on his hand, trying to get him to listen. “Noah, please.” Her voice caught, broke. “Please say you’ll ignore Darcy. He’ll go away. I know he will.” She had to think of something fast; there had to be a way to keep everyone safe.
Noah continued to lead her along the waterfront. A
s silent as a prairie grave, he made no promises, and his silence scared her to death. She needed to put time and distance between him and Darcy, send him on his way back to Heron Pond. She could not have his death on her hands.
It took them precious time to find the boys, who had made their way back to the store and charmed penny candy out of Faye Matheson. By the time they tracked them down, Olivia was about to come out of her skin. Sensing her irritation, Molly rounded up the boys. Noah settled them both atop the gelding and told Molly to start walking them down the trail toward home.
With Noah as untalkative as a stone, conversation was out of the question. Olivia tried, but could not bring herself to make small talk either, not with the image of Darcy here in Shawneetown so clear in her mind.
When they reached the edge of the homestead property, he stopped and watched Molly lead the horse across the field to the cabin.
“Come with me to my campsite, Olivia.”
She could tell by his tone it was not a request—it was a demand.
“I really should get back and you should be on your way.”
“You really think I would leave you now?”
“Yes. Because I’m asking you to.”
“As if I were one of the boys?”
“Noah, don’t.”
“Come with me, Olivia. Now. We have to talk.”
She put her hands to her temples. Determination, fear, anger at Darcy, love for Noah—all of it was pulling her apart.
“There’s nothing more to say.”
“Yes, there is,” he told her. She knew by his tone that he was not going to budge until she heard him out.
Olivia sighed and looked across the field. The sun was going down behind the treeline. Deep blue shadows gathered against the trees. The cabin looked like a doll’s house from where they stood, with yellow-gold light framed in the windows and white smoke curling up out of the rock chimney. A picture of peace and serenity. Within, her father and Susanna were putting their lives back together.
What would happen to them when she told them about Darcy? Surely she must confess all before the night passed. He was too close, too much a threat to all of them now. She had to tell her father. She had to warn him that the wolf was almost at the door.
Blue Moon Page 19