Trail of Aces (Hot on the Trail Book 8)

by Merry Farmer

  But of course, Olivia had mentioned how trying it was to spend all her time with Mrs. Hamilton, who never did anything but gossip.

  “What is it?” Gideon asked when Charlie was still and silent for too long.

  “I don’t know, but it’s something,” Charlie growled.

  Gideon let out a breath and rubbed the scraggly beard he’d forgotten to shave for the last few days. “Is there any way to give the man what he wants before we reach Ft. Bridger? Maybe then he’ll leave the wagon train and go menace someone else.”

  “I’m not giving that man anything,” Charlie said before his brain caught up with him. Of course. Chet may want to kill him—or at least make him pay for stealing what he thought was rightfully his—but he still wanted Josiah’s fortune. There was a fair chance he’d been looking for it amongst Charlie’s things when he was away from his wagon. That would explain why the contents had shifted more than usual as they’d journeyed along. He must suspect that Olivia now had the treasure chest.

  The satisfaction of figuring out the puzzle was short-lived. Olivia was in danger. Chet would do anything to get Josiah’s fortune, including hurting Olivia. Charlie wasn’t going to have it.

  He kept a sharp eye on Chet for the rest of the day. After giving up his conversation with Mrs. Hamilton, Chet moved on to smoke cigars and play cards with some of the single men heading west. They only played for an hour before the men lost too much money to keep going. One of them nearly started a fight, claiming Chet was cheating. He probably was.

  Meanwhile, from his seat in his own camp, Charlie watched Olivia and the Hamilton’s settle down for the night. Mrs. Hamilton insisted on bedding down in the wagon, which left Olivia to lay her bedroll out under the open sky. The light of the campfires slowly faded as Charlie watched, making it difficult to see everything in detail, but he was reasonably certain that Olivia had his treasure chest with her. She was too smart to leave it alone with Mrs. Hamilton after the way she’d reported the woman’s suspicions, and her carpetbag seemed to sag with more weight than it should as Olivia settled it by her head.

  Bit by bit, the camp quieted. Folks didn’t stay up late on the trail the way they did in towns across the country. The pioneers knew they would have to spend the next day walking, so they rested while they could. Charlie wasn’t about to rest. He sought out Chet, spotting him laying out his bedroll near the crew wagon, where Pete let him stow his belongings during the long days of walking. Charlie narrowed his eyes and watched Chet strip out of his jacket and vest, and crawl into bed in his pants and shirtsleeves. He continued to watch as his own campfire fizzled and died, and as a hush settled over the sleeping wagon train.

  Then he acted.

  It wasn’t the first time Charlie had snuck through a crowd of people. He had enough practice moving silently and keeping to the shadows that he was able to creep up to the Hamiltons’ camp without being noticed. He said a quick prayer of thanks that Olivia had set up her bed on the opposite side of the wagon from Mr. Hamilton as he crouched by her side, then another when he saw her carpetbag wasn’t touching her in any way. It was child’s play to open it, search inside, find his treasure chest, and take it out. The jewels inside only shifted a bit in his deft hands.

  As soon as the treasure chest was secure, he rocked back, preparing to stand. His gaze dropped to Olivia’s sleeping face, and all will to leave her side vanished. With a sigh, he set the treasure chest on the ground beside him and shifted to his knees.

  Even in sleep, Olivia was the most beautiful thing Charlie had ever seen. Her face was half turned to the moonlight, enough for him to see the tightness of frustration in her features. He was responsible for that frustration. Knowing that was like a dagger in his heart. He’d never intended to cause her any harm, quite the opposite. He’d thought he could bring her happiness, lighten her up a little, make her life happy. The fact of the matter was, she had made his life immeasurably happier just by knowing her.

  Things between the two of them were looking bleak, but he wasn’t about to give up. With a surge of affection and resolve, he leaned over her, bracing himself with a hand on either side of her shoulders, and planted a kiss on her sleep-softened lips. Even in slumber, the taste of her thrilled him, curling around his heart like a hand-knit blanket. He could be at home with her, really and truly at home. At last.

  He ended the kiss, pushing himself above her while still feeling drawn to her, as if she possessed some magnetic force, urging him to never let her out of his arms. As he was contemplating obeying that urge and stealing another kiss, her eyes fluttered open.

  Olivia breathed in a slight gasp. Charlie held himself where he was, afraid to move away lest this ended up being the last time he was ever close to her. But no, her eyes didn’t hold anger, and the shock of waking to have him so close faded. She lifted an arm to touch his side, her other one to slide beneath his jacket. She tugged him closer.

  Charlie’s heart went wild in his chest as he lowered himself to kiss her again. The silence of the wilderness enveloped them as their mouths met in a hungry embrace. She arched toward him, mimicking the flicker of his tongue, the eagerness of his lips. Her fingertips pressed into his back, drawing him closer and closer until he could feel the press of her breasts against his chest.

  He had never wanted a woman more in his life. Olivia’s siren song was almost too much for him. If they had been alone, he would have touched her and kissed every inch of her, undressing both of them with languid movements that would leave her begging for more. But he couldn’t. Not now, not in this place, not with so many troubles hovering around them. Olivia deserved better. She deserved better than him.

  He pulled back, balancing himself as he tugged her hand off of his back, bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. He made a silent promise to her as a cool breeze ruffled the grass around them. He would make himself worthy of her. He would keep her safe, prove that he deserved her. And then he would ravish her.

  She watched him as he let go of her hand and pulled back further. He made no secret of taking his treasure chest, and she didn’t protest as he held it close and stood. Instead, she nodded. That silent acknowledgement was enough to fill Charlie with pride and energy. She knew he was taking it to keep her safe. He stood and stole away, back to his own wagon. She knew he was trying. That was all he needed.

  Ft. Bridger turned out to be a far more difficult stop along the trail than Olivia would have thought it would be. The fort was nice, with whitewashed buildings and militiamen who were polite and eager to help the pioneers on their way. Everyone was happy to attend Graham and Estelle’s wedding and praised the clever wooden leg that Gideon had constructed for Graham. But attending one wedding only served to remind her of another.

  “If I’d had my way, my sweet Olivia would have had a wedding gown to rival yours, Miss Estelle,” Charlie jokes as they stood with their friends, congratulating the happy couple. “Excuse me, Mrs. Tremaine.”

  Estelle was so full of joy that she laughed at Charlie’s teasing. Graham beamed at his new wife, his arm looped around her waist.

  “Estelle is the most beautiful bride around,” Josephine said. “At least today.” She sent Olivia a happy, and yet, sympathetic, look.

  “She is indeed,” Charlie agreed. “Although I can’t think of a woman alive that holds a candle to my Olivia.”

  Olivia didn’t know whether to accept the compliment with a smile or to demand Charlie stop at once and face reality. Her heart didn’t know if it wanted to leap out of her chest and run to him, or if it wanted to shut itself away forever, never daring to love again. The confusion was so powerful that she hardly knew how to react at all. The only part of her that seemed to know what it wanted was her mouth, which had melted under Charlie’s, and even now, would have given anything to feel the press of his lips again.

  The result of her confusion was that she simply stood there while her friends rejoiced around her, looking lost and feeling like a fool.

  The day d
idn’t get any better. The celebratory luncheon for Graham and Estelle turned into a goodbye party for Gideon and Lucy.

  “I’m so excited to be on my way, back to my father’s ranch,” Lucy said, practically bouncing in her excitement. “But I am so sad to be leaving such good friends behind.”

  She stopped her fluttering long enough to throw her arms around Olivia in a huge hug. For her part, Olivia clung to her friend, suddenly panicking. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Lucy, not when her heart bled and her head spun the way they did.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” she squeaked against Lucy’s shoulder.

  Lucy hugged her tighter. “You’ll be all right,” she whispered. “I think that underneath it all, Charlie is a good man. And if he isn’t, well, you’ll have Estelle and Josephine with you all the way to Oregon City, and Graham and Pete. If anyone can help you, Pete can.”

  Olivia laughed and stepped back. She sniffled, not realizing that she’d started to cry in Lucy’s embrace. She must have made a miserable sight, because Lucy rushed back to her and gave her a second hug and another, “It will be all right.”

  “If you say so.” Olivia would have protested, but the men finished their goodbyes, and Charlie stepped up to her side. She prayed that he would put his arm around her, that she could take comfort in the warmth and solidity of his body, at the same time that she wished he would just go away and let her mind be at peace.

  “Don’t let Howard Haskell push you around,” Charlie said. He was so close, and yet he didn’t touch her. “Show him who’s boss.”

  Lucy laughed out loud. “My father is obviously boss, but I think he’ll love Gideon as much as I do.” She beamed at Gideon as he took her arm and held her close.

  “Good luck, and safe travels.” Pete added his well-wishes.

  “You must all come to visit as soon as you can,” Lucy insisted. “The ranch is huge, and Aunt Virginia’s ranch right next to it is huge too. My father owns so much land that if you decide Oregon is not for you, I’m certain he could lease a farm or some such to you. We could all be neighbors.” She rejoiced over the idea as if it were a done deal.

  In Olivia’s twisted, confused heart, it was the best idea she’d heard in a long time, but there were still miles to go before she could entertain it. Lucy and Gideon eventually dragged themselves away from their friends and the fort, leaving the entire place far quieter. They left Olivia feeling more downtrodden than ever.

  That still wasn’t the worst of her day. There were chores to be done and new supplies to purchase and store. By mid-afternoon, Olivia found herself back at the Hamiltons’ wagon, taking orders from an unusually cranky Mrs. Hamilton.

  “Land sakes, girl, can’t you do anything right?” Mrs. Hamilton snatched the pot Olivia had been adding stew ingredients to out of her hands. “You have to boil the stock before you add the meat or it’ll get tough.”

  “Of course. I wasn’t thinking,” Olivia answered with only half her attention. The other half was on Chet walking straight up to her.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Hamilton. You’re looking lovely today as usual,” Chet greeted them.

  “Mr. Devlin, how nice to see you.” Mrs. Hamilton preened and primped and simpered for Chet.

  The whole thing turned Olivia’s stomach. She tried to walk away and find something else to do, but Chet followed her. “I was wondering if you had those trousers of mine you were fixing finished.”

  She took a breath and turned back to him. “I do. Sorry I haven’t brought them to you sooner.” The truth was, she’d been anxious about approaching Chet alone for the past few days. “I’ll just get them for—”

  “Nonsense. You’re busy cooking. I bet Mrs. Hamilton would be willing to fetch them for me, wouldn’t you, Beatrice?” He turned his most charming smile on Mrs. Hamilton.

  Mrs. Hamilton giggled like a girl and pressed a hand to her face. “Of course I will. You just hold on one moment. I know exactly where Olivia put them.” She scurried off, climbing into the back of the wagon, and—as Olivia feared—disappearing from sight.

  Chet didn’t waste a moment before sliding inappropriately close to her. “And how are you today, Mrs. Garrett?”

  Olivia swallowed, but her mouth and throat were dry. She took a step back to the fire and her stew. “I’m fine.”

  “You seemed a bit uncomfortable at the wedding.” Chet followed her, continuing to stand too close and speak too intimately. “I would be uncomfortable too, if I had a husband like yours.”

  “If you had a husband like mine, I would say there was something decidedly off about you,” Olivia mumbled.

  Chet laughed. The sound raised gooseflesh on her arms. She hadn’t tried to be funny.

  Chet slid closer to her, so close she could smell his cologne. “Come now, Mrs. Garrett. We have a common enemy, therefore we have a common cause. You don’t trust your husband, and neither do I. He tricked and deceived you, if what I’m hearing is correct, just as he tricked and deceived me. So why don’t we work together?”

  Olivia cleared her throat and made a show of walking away to fetch a potato from the sack by one of the wagon wheels. “I don’t want anything to do with it,” she said, praying he would take the hint.

  Chet followed her. He opened his mouth, still oozing charm, but was prevented from speaking when Mrs. Hamilton called, “Where did you put those blasted things, Olivia?”

  “In the mending basket,” Olivia answered, her voice rough.

  “Ah.” Noise came from the wagon as if Mrs. Hamilton were shuffling things around.

  Chet’s cheery disposition dropped as he darted a glance to the wagon. “We don’t have time to beat around the bush. You know what I want, and I think you know where it is.”

  Olivia swallowed hard. Thank God in heaven above Charlie had taken his locked box back the other night. The other night, when the wagon train was hushed and the night breeze tickled her. When she woke, like a princess in a fairy tale, to Charlie there, protecting her, kissing her.

  No, she had to keep her wits about her. Charlie had the locked box, but that meant he was in danger.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned away, taking the potato back to the bench where she was working.

  “You do.” Chet raced after her, growling. “I want what’s mine.”

  He grabbed her wrist in a grip so tight that Olivia gasped in pain.

  A moment later, Chet jerked back. Olivia spun to see Charlie dragging Chet farther from her, fury in his eyes. “Don’t you know better than to interrupt a woman while she’s working?” he rumbled. “Where are your manners?”

  It was a small miracle that Charlie didn’t wheel back and punch Chet across the face right then, although Chet reacted as if he had. He shook out of Charlie’s grip and sidestepped to put distance between them. The glare that he gave Charlie was enough to strike a man dead, and yet, within seconds, it was back to the same charming grin he’d worn when he approached the Hamiltons’ wagon.

  “I merely came to fetch the trousers that your wife so generously offered to mend for me.” His excuse came at the same time as Mrs. Hamilton hopped out the back of her wagon, trousers in hand.

  “Here we are, Mr. Devlin.” She strutted across the camp to hand Chet the pants, as if she was the one who had mended them, and had done it with thread of gold. “Good as new.”

  “Thank you, my dear Beatrice.” Chet bowed to her as if she was a queen at court. “And thanks to you, Mrs. Garrett. If you’ll excuse me, I have much work to do.” He backed away, turning tail and running so fast that Olivia gaped after him.

  Mrs. Hamilton eyed Charlie with a mix of suspicion and anticipation.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Charlie put on a bright smile, touched the brim of his hat, and met Olivia’s eyes. His eyes were so expressive, beyond whatever mask he chose to wear. Right now they were saying that he was terrified for Olivia’s safety, and that he wished she would let him protect her.

  “
Thank you, Mr. Garrett.” Olivia nodded.

  Charlie winced as if she’d smacked him. Her heart flopped in her chest. She should have called him Charlie, should have called him much more. He walked away before she could apologize, but what would she say? She was sorry she didn’t know what to feel about him? She didn’t want him to get hurt, but didn’t know how not to hurt him?

  With a sharp hiss that came very close to sounding like a curse, she whipped back to her stew.

  “I always knew you’d cause a heap of trouble for yourself,” Mrs. Hamilton clucked. “Everyone always said how sweet you are, how quiet you are, but you showed your true colors by marrying that man, didn’t you?”

  Rather than letting Mrs. Hamilton’s words sting her, Olivia loosened her shoulders and sighed. She was right. She was showing her true colors now, and they weren’t the colors of a sweet, innocent school teacher. But what colors were they?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia had taken Pete’s concerns about the terrain the wagon train would be facing beyond Ft. Bridger to heart, but she had had too many other things occupying her mind to give it much thought. Even in the first week after they left the fort and wound their way deeper and deeper into the mountains, she was much more concerned with keeping one eye on Chet to see if he would try to steal Charlie’s locked box, or worse, hurt Charlie in some way, and the other on Charlie himself. Her frazzled heart still couldn’t decide if it wanted him to stay near or to go away forever. She walked through several days, barely registering the landscape as it changed around her.

  It was only when the wagon train rounded the bend of one of the immense mountains they’d been skirting, and started north again through a narrow valley, that the dangers they now faced hit her.