In a Cowboy’s Arms

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In a Cowboy’s Arms Page 28

by Janette Kenny


  “Of course,” Maggie said. “I’ll wait here for Dade.”

  Gwyneth stepped out the door and paused. “We hold to a rather odd timetable here and partake of dinner after the last performance. If you prefer, I can have a meal brought up to your room now.”

  “In all honesty, I’m too tired to think about food.”

  “As I thought. Rest.”

  As soon as the door closed, Maggie lounged back on the chaise and fought the urge to surrender to the sleep that lured her. She didn’t want to nod off now. She needed to talk with Dade when he came up about the plans made for her.

  She wrinkled her nose at that annoying fact.

  All her life she’d done as others had told her to do. At the foundling home, she’d been a model orphan, never crying for attention, never disobeying in the years she’d been there.

  When Becka’s family took her in, she’d tried to be just as dutiful. Living in a home was a whole new experience,as was having a sister. But Becka’s death ended her dream of family, and the guilt that she’d carried for failing to be a good daughter haunted her upon her return to the foundling home.

  Still, she did what she was told while she remained there. She’d smiled when folks came around, hoping. In vain, it turned out. She didn’t fuss when she was put on the orphan train, because it was a chance for her to start over. To find a good family.

  She squirmed and shifted uneasily, mindful of that long train ride that had brought her westward. There were so many children. Some crying. All scared for various reasons.

  Maggie had known this was likely her last chance to find a family who’d take her because they wanted a daughter. And she knew her chances weren’t good, because she wasn’t small or dainty. A sturdy girl, the matron had remarked.

  So she prayed hard that somebody would finally want her because she was a little girl who needed a family. Needed love.

  But stop after stop she was looked over. She never found a place to call home. What was wrong with her?

  She licked her lips and tried to force her muzzy mind to reason out her fate. Doc’s solution, his way for her to escape a forced marriage sounded more and more like a prison sentence. She’d have to hide while taking her schooling and then what? Would she spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder?

  She didn’t want that at all. She wanted freedom. She wanted to be wanted just for her. She refused to be a pawn.

  She yawned and snuggled down on the chaise, simply unable to keep her eyes open any longer. Unable to think anymore.

  Tomorrow. That’s when she’d make her stand.

  She’d confront Whit Ramsey. She’d make him understand that she wasn’t going to marry him–by choice or force.

  But she didn’t want to wait until she returned to Colorado. She wanted him to know now. She wanted him to call off the bounty hunter.

  Dade would help her. Dade... What was keeping him?

  Maggie stretched, and that effort was nearly too much for her. She’d never had a bath drain her of energy before.

  No, that wasn’t quite true. She’d had the devil’s time staying awake after drinking the tea.

  She turned her head to the table and tried to bring the cup into focus. What was in it?

  She reached for it, her eyelids too heavy to keep open. She heard the shatter of china, then nothing but blessed silence.

  The Iago Theater was the craziest damned place Dade had ever stepped foot in. Nobody claimed to know Mrs. DeMare, which had to be a lie. But he wasn’t going to argue the point.

  After pounding on the rear door until his fists were sore, a dapper gentleman had opened it and let him in. He’d showed Dade straight up to Maggie’s room, apologizing profusely for the mix-up.

  “It was the token, you see,” he said in a refined English accent that reminded him of Kirby Morris. “One can’t be too careful.”

  “What do you mean?” The only token he knew of was the one Miss Jennean had pressed into his hand, claiming that it would be the key to grant them a safe place to stay in Dodge City.

  The lanky man fidgeted with his hands. “I spoke out of turn, sir. Madam Vale will explain it all.”

  “Who’s she?”

  His boney chin lifted in a regal angle. “The owner of the Iago Theater.”

  They’d reached the room by then, and Dade gave up trying to make sense of this farcical story.

  The room was set off so he just barely heard the actors on stage. It was large and fancy, and he was glad to see the pannier and his saddlebags were there.

  Though he wanted to check to see that his money hadn’t disappeared, Maggie commanded all his attention. She reclined on an elegant chaise, sleeping like an angel.

  Dade finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. She was all right.

  “One more thing you should be aware of,” the gentleman said. “A sleeping draught was delivered here by mistake. The lady drank it all before the error was discovered.”

  He didn’t believe that for a minute. Maggie had been drugged on purpose.

  “How long ago?”

  “Soon after her bath, I believe. I’m sure she will awaken in the morning completely refreshed,” the gent said as he backed from the room and shut the door.

  She might, but Dade was sure he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes in this place. Safe my ass!

  He checked the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He closed and locked it from the inside, though he didn’t want to bet that it would keep out intruders.

  The windows opened, but there was nothing below them but a two-story drop. They were in effect trapped here.

  Dade pulled the plush chair to the window and eased down onto it. He had a good view of the street, the door, and Maggie from here.

  Seeing her vulnerable in sleep gave him that odd pull in his gut again. Though she’d been taken into a fine home, she’d been alone all her life.

  If she recalled her family, she’d never mentioned them.

  Maybe that was for the best–not remembering, that is. Too much of the past had stayed in his mind.

  The arguments. The raised voices. The slap of skin on skin, and his ma crying afterward.

  He’d hated his pa for that. He’d vowed he’d never lay an angry hand on the gentler sex, and he hadn’t.

  Hell, if he’d ever had the inclination to do so it would’ve been with Maggie. God knew she’d given him plenty of reasons to fume.

  But now all he wanted to do was hold her. Keep her safe. Make love to her.

  As folks left the theater and the streets grew deserted, he was beset by a feeling of protectiveness the likes of which he’d never felt before. Sure, he’d vowed to see that she arrived safely in St. Louis.

  He was willing to guard her with his life on the trail.

  But this feeling went beyond that.

  The emotions bottled up inside him were akin to possessiveness. He wondered if being her first lover had triggered those feelings in him. He wondered if it was love.

  He’d never been with an innocent woman before. Never been with a woman who needed a man as much as Maggie did.

  He’d never needed a woman as badly as he did her. He didn’t want to let her go, but he didn’t see any way around it.

  She’d spend the next year or so in St. Louis getting her nurse’s training. After that he had no idea where she’d go.

  He didn’t know where he’d be a month from now, much less a year. So much depended on him finding Daisy.

  If that fell apart on him again, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Maybe he would return to the Crown Seven.

  If he did still own a share of it, he’d consider selling it. That way he could buy what he wanted. It’d be all his. No partners. No shares to haggle over.

  He’d have a place to call home. But would he have anyone to share it with?

  Dade rubbed his palms over his thighs, the chafe of his skin on his dungarees seeming loud in the quiet. Everyone in the theater must be in bed now. Everyone but he and Maggie
, though she was dosing.

  Dade crossed to the chaise and scooped her up in his arms as gently as he could. He laid her down on the bed just as carefully.

  She didn’t rouse. Didn’t seem to know that he’d moved her.

  His hands shook as he removed her dress and laid it on the chaise. He made quick work of stripping down to his undergarments.

  The bed barely dipped as he stretched out beside her. He gathered her close, smiling that she snuggled against him even in sleep. “What am I going to do with you, Maggie mine?”

  The tension that had gripped him all day began easing. They were safe for tonight. Tomorrow would likely bring its own set of troubles.

  But tonight he’d do what he’d wanted to do last night. He’d hold her close to his heart and pretend that she was his not just for now, but forever.

  Maggie came awake slowly, her senses humming with pleasure, and her body deliciously warm. She drew in a deep breath and recognized Dade’s slightly spicy scent.

  That triggered other sensations as well, each unfolding like a rosebud kissed by the sun. A masculine hand rested on her hip. Legs tangled together and the press of his bare skin hot against hers.

  She wondered if waking in his arms was just a dream. Wondered if it would pop like a soap bubble if she moved.

  Maggie uncurled the hand trapped between their bodies and skimmed her fingers over his taut belly. Muscles rippled beneath her touch, and his groan rumbled in her ear.

  She smiled. This was very much real and very much wanted.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice rough from sleep.

  She nuzzled her face against his broad chest, the heartbeat strong and sure. “Good morning.”

  “How do you feel?” he asked, the hand on her hip making a slow sweep up her back.

  Safe. Desired. Suddenly hungry for more of his touch. But she kept those thoughts to herself, for this moment was too new and fragile, and she was too afraid she’d say the wrong thing and it would shatter.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep last night before you got back.” She frowned as scattered memories flitted through her mind. “Gwyneth Vale shouldn’t have locked you out.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “The owner,” she said. “Gwyneth thought she had to protect me from you. Something about the token from Miss Jennean being a sign that I was in danger.”

  He snorted and rested his chin on her head, seeming in no hurry to get up. Not that she was complaining. She just regretted that she’d slept like the dead and hadn’t enjoyed the comfort of his touch until she’d awakened.

  “I damned sure didn’t know what was going on,” he said, and she caught the edge of annoyance in his voice. “I pounded on the back door but nobody answered. Then the girl in the ticket window swore she’d never heard of Mrs. DeMare.”

  What a bizarre chain of events. It all left her feeling a bit unsettled and less sure of their safety here.

  “Apparently DeMare is a persona Gwyneth Vale adopts when the mood strikes.” She pulled back then and stared into his eyes. “I waffled between worry that you’d abandoned me, and fear that something had happened to you.”

  His mouth hitched into a crooked smile that coaxed an answering one from her. “Here I thought I’d screwed up real bad and you were in trouble.” His smile faded. “Guess you were, in a way. The butler told me you’d been given a sleeping draught by mistake.”

  That explained her inability to stay awake and the mild headache this morning. “No wonder I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the gesture so soft that it brought tears to her eyes. “Got to tell you, Maggie, I don’t care to stay here any longer than necessary.”

  He’d get no argument from her. “I assume we’ll visit Mrs. Jarrett this morning?”

  “As soon as we get out of here.”

  He rolled to his feet and padded across the room. Though she admired the shift of his thin undergarments, she disliked being denied another look at his naked form.

  Seeing him begin dressing reminded her he was serious about leaving soon. She eased from the bed and donned her corselet.

  “Will we return here tonight?” she asked as she slipped into her blue dress and buttoned up the bodice, looking like a lady for a change instead of a vagrant fresh off the trail.

  “Nope. If we have to spend another night in Dodge City, I’d just as soon take my chances in a hotel.”

  That was a relief. Though she believed that Gwyneth Vale’s actions were those of a woman who erred on the side of caution, she couldn’t find a solid reason for her drugging her tea.

  She made short work of pinning her hair up in a loose bun. “Then we’d best make sure we have everything of ours packed.”

  A quick check showed that nothing of hers was missing, but the brim on her straw shade hat was ruined. That left the wide brimmed farmer’s hat as her only protection against the sun.

  It was perfectly fine on the trail, but she dreaded wearing it with her dress.

  “Nothing’s missing,” he said as he slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. “You going to wear that or not?”

  “I don’t have a choice.” Maggie put on the farmer’s hat and cringed at the picture she presented.

  Dade appeared beside her, his mouth pulled into that crooked smile that made her heart skip a beat. “Here. I aimed to give you this when we reached St. Louis, but it appears you could use it now.”

  Maggie took the package he handed her and tore into it with all the enthusiasm of a child at Christmas. The new leghorn shade hat was just beautiful.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked.

  “Bought it the same day I got that farmer’s hat for you.” He downed his head, seeming a bit nervous.

  She ran her fingers over the sassy brim and fingered the wide blue ribbon that matched her dress. “It’s perfect.”

  The gift touched her like nothing else had in a long time. It was rare for her to have new clothes, since Caroline’s mother saw that her daughter always wore the latest fashions. Maggie ended up with the castoffs, which were perfectly lovely gowns. Some had only been worn once.

  But this... Well, nobody had ever bought her one new hat, let alone two.

  She slipped the hat on and adjusted it so the brim dipped at a jaunty angle over her one eye. After securing it with a pin, she was ready to get this day started.

  “Ready.”

  “Then let’s get out of here,” he said.

  The theater was quiet as a tomb as they descended the stairs to the first floor. They didn’t see or hear anyone until they neared the rear door.

  Maggie smelled bread baking, and her stomach grumbled as if to remind her she’d missed dinner last night. But after the drugging incident, she didn’t want to test her luck with any food or drink.

  Dade seemed to be of the same mind, because he hustled her out the door without bothering to drink his usual morning coffee. They walked up the alley to the street. She was relieved to leave this odd place.

  “The livery is about three blocks this way.” Dade adjusted his packs and headed off with her right beside him.

  “I could carry my satchel,” she said.

  “I’ve got it.”

  And she knew that was that. “I thought Mrs. DeMare directed you the other way last night.”

  “She did. Took me a good spell to backtrack and find the livery.”

  Another oddity about that place.

  Few people were out this early, and maybe that’s why Maggie felt so vulnerable. She was glad when they reached the livery.

  She stood just inside the wide double doors while Dade talked with the owner. From what she overheard, Mrs. Jarrett lived on the other side of town.

  When he hired a buggy, she nearly cried out with relief. She wasn’t the least bit sore this morning, but she wasn’t anxious to strain her muscles again. That would come soon enough when they set off in search of Daisy.

  Dade stowed their gear in the livery a
nd helped her up. She settled onto the seat and adjusted her skirts.

  “You want to eat first?” he asked.

  She was hungry, but she sensed time was of the essence here. “Let’s visit Mrs. Jarrett first.”

  It would likely be a very short visit. She just doubted that the woman would welcome them, especially once she discovered why they were there.

  With a flick of the lines, Dade had the buggy moving smoothly forward. The canopy kept the sun from bearing down on them and provided a bit of privacy as well.

  “What will we do if Mrs. Jarrett proves uncooperative?” Maggie asked as they left this side of town behind them.

  “Heckle her until I find out all she knows about Daisy.”

  Dade had no difficulty finding Mrs. Jarrett’s house. Not only had the liveryman given excellent directions, the Victorian house with twin turrets would be hard to miss.

  He parked the buggy at the curb and set the brake, but he didn’t make a move to get out. Instead he just stared at the big house.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” she said.

  That earned him a quick grin. “I was just wondering what Daisy’s life would’ve been like if they’d raised her as their own. She’d have been one of them debutantes.”

  “Don’t think that money can buy happiness,” she said. “Caroline had everything a girl could ask for except freedom. She was expected to live her life a certain way, and would have if she hadn’t taken ill.”

  He shook his head and climbed from the buggy, extending a hand to help her down. “Let’s pay the lady a visit.”

  Everything about the house was tidy, from the urns overflowing with ivy to the doormat that was positioned just so in front of the oval glass door. Dade gave the acorn knocker three smart raps, then stood beside her and silently waited for a reply.

  They didn’t have a long wait.

  A woman opened the door, her hair white as cotton and her face as deeply wrinkled as a raisin. If her starched white apron hadn’t proclaimed her position in the household, the small silver salver she held certainly would.

  “Who may I say is calling?” the woman asked.

 

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