The Fall of Rome

by Beth Ciotta

  Rome blew out a breath, his heart lighter but not free. “Boston arrived as planned,” Athens whispered. “But Sister Maria sent him away . . . with the kid. I don’t have specifics. Only that Boston mentioned taking Frankie home.”

  “To Casa Bend?”

  “To Phoenix.”

  “What the hell?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  Because they’d worked side by side for so long, Rome knew Boston better than any of his siblings. Athens was counting on his insight. “If he’d suspected Frankie was in immediate danger, he would’ve sought refuge at Camp Grant. If they simply needed a place to stay until Brady was snagged, he could’ve hunkered down in a nearby hotel.”

  “Exactly,” Athens said. “Why cart the kid four days north? To Phoenix? More specifically---into the Garrett fold?”

  He’s protecting one of our own.

  “He must’ve suspected,” Rome thought out loud.

  “Suspected what?”

  He wasn’t ready to discuss the possibility that he’d fathered Frankie. He needed to live with the notion awhile longer. Not knowing for sure put a twisted spin on an already-uncomfortable situation. “Never mind.” He bit the inside of his cheek, jawing on more whys. Why had Sister Maria tossed them out? Why didn’t Boston inform Athens of his intentions? “I know the telegraph office nearest to the convent was down, but Boston could’ve wired you from other towns along the way Odd that he’d keep us in the dark.”

  “I agree, but maybe he deemed it imperative to avoid civilization. A lone man traveling with a small child? Bound to raise brows and questions.”

  Bound to instigate talk. Boston wouldn’t want to draw attention.

  Athens’s expression darkened. “There’s more. A couple of days after Boston hit the trail, Brady arrived at the convent, claiming to be Frankie’s father.”

  Rome’s body vibrated with seething hatred. He didn’t care that the man’s boast was possibly true. No way, no how, would he allow that bastard to pull an innocent little girl into his life. Frankie belonged with Kat. And Kat, goddammit to hell, belonged with him.

  “Rome.” Athens leaned in, voice grim. “Brady knows where Boston’s headed with the kid.”

  Fuck.

  “If he doesn’t catch up with our brother and Frankie before they reach Phoenix, there’s a remote possibility he’ll strike on our home turf.”

  “Meaning Zach, Zoe, and Kaila could be in harm’s way.”

  “Along with Boston, London, and Frankie.” Athens shoved his hands through his hair. “I sent wires to three Peacemakers, all within a couple days’ ride, pulling them off their current cases and sending them to Phoenix. I’d notify Josh, but I don’t want to pull him away from Paris. Although I should at least make him aware of the situation.”

  “Probably. But if Paris and Emily caught wind of the potential danger to family, you know they’d insist on Josh riding to Phoenix and no way in hell would they stay behind.”

  Athens nodded. “Noted.”

  “London, however--”

  “Seth’s wiring him while I’m briefing you. A coded message with essentials only and a directive to alert Marshal Clancy. No details, just advising him to be on the lookout.”

  “You really want to bring the local law into this?”

  “Foolish not to. Clancy can deputize a small legion. Visible guns on patrol may be enough of a deterrent to buy us the time we need.”

  Rome quirked a grin. “My brother, the strategist.”

  Athens grunted. “The sooner we hit the trail, the better. I don’t want to leave Kat behind and unprotected, but at the same time--”

  “I won’t slow you down.”

  Rome turned to find his tousle-haired bedmate already partially dressed. He turned back to Athens. “Meet you out front in ten minutes.”

  Athens left and Rome walked over and wrenched open the curtains, shedding light on Kat and her ministrations. He assumed she’d heard most or enough of his conversation with Athens. He imagined her anxiety, but she looked calm as you please as she stepped into a split skirt and riding boots.

  “Give me five minutes to pack essentials,” she said.

  “What about all of your gowns?”

  “Do you really think I care?”

  Stupid question. “Kat.” He grasped her shoulders, bid her attention.

  “If you leave me behind,” she said, serious as an undertaker, “I’ll make the journey alone.”

  He didn’t doubt her word. What’s more, he understood her determination. “If you ride with us, I want your promise you won’t act without my consent. No more rushing blindly into a storm. No more solo heroics.”

  “I could easily pull a poker face right now. I could promise you the moon. I could bluff and make you buy it, because I’m that good. Is that what you want from me, Rome? A lie?”

  Normally, her hard tone and steely glare would have whipped him into a confrontation. But he recognized the tactic. Cold control. He also recognized the futility in trying to reason with her just now. Not to mention the wasted time.

  “I’ll secure you a fast mount from the livery.” He snatched his holster from the table. “We’re riding out in ten.”

  “If you’re banking on me being late, you’ll lose.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Phoenix

  For a man who thought he’d never wed, London couldn’t marry Victoria fast enough. Her father didn’t want her, but the cattle baron might. When the truth came out that she’d survived the train robbery, would the man seek her out? If so, and if he tracked her to Phoenix, London wanted to be in a prime position to send him packing.

  There was also Bulls-Eye Brady. Rome and Kat were out there taunting the bastard. If all went according to plan, they’d catch the outlaw. Next step: trial. Victoria was the eyewitness Athens needed to hang the man, literally. Whether or not she chose to testify, London wanted her under his protection. Legally.

  He did what came naturally. He took control.

  Despite Victoria’s thoughtful nod to his family, he didn’t inform Kaila, nor his niece and nephew. London didn’t want to waste time explaining his actions. He’d set things in motion, prepared and willing to deal with the impending fallout with his family. For once, he’d put his own needs and wants first. He’d roused a jeweler and a Bible-thumper and, by sunrise, Victoria was his bride.

  “How do you feel?” he asked her as they exited the minister’s home arm in arm.

  “A little dazed.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. We did it.”

  Her nervous laugh warmed him like the desert sun. He smiled down at his wife. Wife. He could scarcely believe it himself. “Shadow dwellers, no more.”

  He’d admired Victoria plenty during the brief ceremony, but even so he couldn’t drink his fill. She’d changed into a cheery yellow day gown, creatively utilizing a paisley shawl and brooch to camouflage the revealing neckline. Decorative combs held back the sides of her hair, the bulk of her shiny waves swinging just above her waist. London thought her the most beautiful woman on earth--inside and out.

  Heart full, he smoothed his thumb over the simple gold band he’d placed on her finger when they’d said their vows. “How would you like to spend the first day of our adventure, Mrs. Garrett? Shopping for a new wardrobe? Looking for a place to call home?”

  “We have a home,” she said as they walked the boards of Jefferson Street. “Your apartments above Last Chance.”

  “Always meant that to be temporary. Now I have a reason to hurry things along.” Although he liked the idea of keeping Victoria close, he didn’t want her living above the saloon. She deserved better, and he wanted better for her. He also wanted privacy. Thoughts of getting her naked, often, put a hitch in his step.

  She stopped in front of Thomas Howe’s carpentry shop. At first London thought she wanted to peruse the merchant’s handmade furniture. Instead, she gripped the lapels of his frock coat, tugged him closer. “So much is happening, so fast,�
�� she whispered. “Would you mind if we spent the day alone together? I’m more intrigued by the things you promised to show me, you know, intimately speaking, than with shopping.”

  Well, hell. His heart and shaft throbbed. He framed her face, aching to kiss her dizzy. Later, Garrett. Behind closed doors for chrissakes. “It pleases me to know you’re curious, and even more that you let me know.”

  She blushed, and he knew this conversation had run its course.

  He scooped her into his arms and carried her across the muddy street, smiling and dipping his chin in greeting to the merchants who were opening doors for business. “Just married,” he said to seamstress Nattie Burns. The news would spread like wildfire. Fine by him. It would shelve talk regarding the unchaperoned woman sleeping in his home. No doubt Victoria’s reputation had already taken a beating. As his wife, the whispers would stop.

  Once on the opposing boardwalk, London set his bride to her feet but hastened her pace. The Last Chance and a morning of lovemaking waited two blocks ahead. “Business affairs keep me bound to Phoenix just now,” he said, trying to focus on something other than seducing a virgin. “But as soon as I’m able, I’ll take you on a honeymoon. Anywhere in particular you’d like to visit?”

  “What’s it like where your sister lives?”

  “Paris and Josh live near the Superstition Mountains. Rugged territory mostly populated by miners. Not the most romantic place for a bridal tour.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m curious about your family.”

  He couldn’t imagine the loneliness of being an only child. Worse, an only child raised by one parent, a father who bemoaned her existence. “You’ll meet my family soon enough, honey. Be warned, they’re a colorful bunch.”

  “Like Zach and Zoe and Kaila.” Another smile. “I can’t wait.”

  Once again his thoughts turned to lovemaking. Beyond the physical ecstasy to an extended emotional bond. For the first time in his life he actually envisioned himself with a passel of kids. It occurred to him that he was happiest when he had a brood to care for. It had been a long time since his siblings had needed him in that fashion, and now that he was no longer managing a large opera house and hoards of mischievous performers . . . well, hell, no wonder he’d been so damn bored.

  Nearing the saloon, he spied a buckboard in front. The driver looked familiar. It couldn’t be. But then the tall, Stetson-wearing man hopped from the driver’s throne just as a slender blond woman dressed in boyish clothes swung out of the back and the two of them helped a very pregnant half pint to the ground. It was. “What the hell?”

  Victoria squeezed his hand. “Who is it, London?”

  “My sister.”

  So much for boredom. So much for a morning of love-making.

  The first hour of dawn had passed in a blissful sleep- deprived blur, and Victoria had hoped for even more bliss, bliss of a deeply intimate nature. She’d been floating on air, detached from reality, living a life she’d only fantasized about--marrying a charismatic, handsome man, marrying for love. The crash to earth was sudden and sobering. This wasn’t a fantasy. This was real. She’d just married a man she barely knew. A man with a large, loving family. A family who would question her place in his life.

  If the pregnant young woman was London’s sister, Paris, then the broad-shouldered man handling her with kid gloves must be her husband, Josh Grant. The tall young woman with the blond braids and wire-rimmed spectacles had to be Paris’s best friend, Emily. Emily, if she remembered correctly, was married to Josh’s best friend, Seth Wright. What would they say when London introduced her as his wife? What would she say?

  Victoria wanted so badly to be accepted, yet given her history, she anticipated the familiar--rejection. Her heart, fluttering with joy mere seconds ago, thudded slowly and painfully in her chest. Self-conscious, she wished herself invisible as they neared the animated trio.

  London spoke, or rather, snapped first. “What the hell, Grant? Paris has no business traveling over rugged territory when she’s this far along.”

  “Exactly what I told her,” the man grit out, sliding his wife a peeved look before glaring at his brother-in-law. “Don’t tell me how to care for my wife, Garrett.”

  “Wouldn’t have to if you showed some common sense.” Josh stepped forward, and Paris stepped between them. The dark-haired sprite with the freckled nose smacked her brothers chest. “Stop picking on Josh. He refused to bring me, but then Emily and I came up with this plan and he overheard us and--”

  “Enough said.” London frowned at his sister.

  “At least I got her to agree to my stipulation,” Josh said. “I’ll be staying in Phoenix until the baby’s born.” Paris’s tiny smile indicated she wasn’t displeased.

  “I’m not going to risk bouncing and jostling you around a second time,” Josh said, tugging at her messy braid. “If the kid’s anything like you, she’ll come kicking and screaming into the world in the middle of the desert just to give me grey hair.”

  “Not to mention,” Paris said while stealing a glance at Victoria. “He’s not fond of our new town doctor. Doc Barry’s a little on the young side.”

  “Doc Barry,” Josh said, “drinks too much.”

  Victoria marveled at the frank and heartfelt family discussion. She also felt out of place and longed to withdraw into the background. A difficult habit to break. She felt London squeeze her hand as if reading her mind and sensed he was about to introduce her. She braced herself, but the tomboyish blond woman beat him to the task.

  “Hello, my name is Emily.” Silent until now, she extended her hand to Victoria. “You must be Tori Adams. Mr. Fedderman told us about you when he came to visit Josh.” She indicated her companions, including London. “They don’t mean to be rude. Long trip. Unexpected arrival. Everyone’s worried about someone or another. Still, no excuse for skipping introductions.”

  So much for being invisible. Victoria clasped the woman’s hand. “I hope Mr. Fedderman fares well,” was all she managed. How was she going to explain about her true identity? They’d think her a liar before they even got to know her.

  “John’s fine,” Josh said with a friendly smile. “Sends his regards. Apologies for our poor manners, ma’am.” He smiled and Victoria thought him handsome and kind, though not nearly as handsome and kind as London. “Joshua Grant,” he said, removing his hat in greeting. “This is my wife, as you’ve probably guessed, Paris.”

  “I get carried away sometimes. Mouth runs ahead of my brain. My apologies as well, Miss Adams,” Paris said, brown eyes sparking with curiosity. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Victoria said, skin burning when the woman glanced down and saw her fingers interlaced with London’s. Victoria tried to slip free, but London held tight.

  “Let’s take this discussion inside,” he said. “We’re gaining an audience.”

  Though only an hour past sunrise, the town was starting to come to life. Early birds took note of the commotion in front of the Last Chance. London had pegged his family as colorful. An understatement. In addition, people were no doubt whispering about the saloon owner and the immoral entertainer sleeping under his roof. Unless gossip had already spread about their impromptu wedding.

  Victoria felt faint from the unwanted attention, but she stiffened her spine, a shadow dweller no more. “Have you no luggage?” she asked after a glance at the buckboard.

  “We’re staying at Emily and Seth’s house,” Paris said.

  “Their place sits on the outskirts of town,” Josh put in. “Swung by there first. Didn’t tally and rest though. Appreciate the opportunity to get Paris out of the sun and off her feet.”

  “I was off my feet for the entire journey. Stop fussing.”

  “Stop being a pain in the neck,” Josh said.

  Emily snorted.

  “You do realize you’re asking the impossible,” London said as they moved into the saloon.

  Josh smiled and kissed the top of his wife�
�s head. “I do.”

  Feeling like an intruder, Victoria desperately wanted to escape by doing the hospitable thing and offering to make breakfast. Only London had yet to announce their marriage. Stepping in as hostess would be premature. Her discomfort mounted by the second.

  “What happened on the train,” Paris blurted, once London locked the front doors behind them, “must’ve been awful, Miss Adams.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Emily said, her eyes mirroring Paris’s concern. “We read about it in the newspaper, but the story was even more chilling when relayed by Mr. Fedderman.” Victoria’s pulse galloped as glimpses of the robbery came to mind. Three men, two wearing bandannas that disguised the lower half of their faces, burst into the passenger car. “Your valuables or your life!” one called. “Your choice. “ Sweat broke across her upper lip as she reached beneath the shawl to finger her locket.

  “Paris,” London said, sounding annoyed. “Why were you so all-fired determined to come to Phoenix?”

  Frowning, Josh eased his wife into a chair. “She thinks the family’s falling apart.”

  “I don’t think it,” she squeaked, hands splayed across her big belly, “I know it. Seth joined a posse intent on tracking the gang that robbed that train, a gang led by Bulls-Eye Brady.”

  The name sent a chill down Victoria’s spine. “You should be ashamed, “ Tori railed, “terrorizing old men and defenseless women. That locket is worth a hell of a lot more to my friend than you, Mr. Big Shot Bulls-Eye. Leave her be!”

  “Rome and Boston should be helping Seth,” Paris said, grabbing hold of Emily’s hand. “God knows they were hot on Brady’s path more than once, but instead they’re drinking and brawling and disappointing a whole lot of good people. Emily would sleep better if they were riding with Seth, and so would I, because it would mean they’d recovered from the scandal, business as usual.”

  “And surely Miss Adams will rest easier,” Emily said, with a thoughtful nod to Victoria, “when the Ace-in-the Hole gang are brought to justice.”