by Beth Ciotta
“Maybe he’ll send in a gang member,” London said. “Trouble is, we don’t know what they look like.”
Victoria appeared on the threshold. “I might.”
London and Boston stood.
Even though it was three in the morning, ever modest, she’d thrown on a gown and a shawl. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just... I thought you might like some tea or coffee.”
“That’s all right, honey,” London said, moving to stand next to her. “This is my youngest brother, Boston.”
She extended a hand in greeting. “Pleased to meet you. I’m--”
“My sister-in-law. I know.” He ignored her hand and gave her a hug. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank . . . thank you.” She was blushing profusely when she eased away.
London bit back a smile and placed his hand at the small of her back.
“About Bulls-Eye Brady’s men,” she said in a soft voice. “I only saw two of them and they were wearing masks over the lower halves of their faces. But I think I’d know their eyes, their voices. And maybe the manner in which they moved.”
“Good to know,” Boston said.
“Absolutely,” said London.
She looked up at him, eyes wide with curiosity and compassion. “Where’s the little girl I heard you mention?”
“In the guest room.”
“I’m going to make sure she’s warm enough. Excuse me.” Boston stepped in next to him and they watched her go. “Sure is polite.”
“Sure is.”
“Caring, too.”
“And pretty.”
“Brave to put herself out there like that.”
“You have no idea.”
Boston slid him a look “Must scare the shit out of you.”
“You have no idea.”
CHAPTER 36
Florence
Riding through the night had been a challenge. Kat had dozed off a time or two in the saddle, but Rome had stayed alert, watching for trouble, keeping them on track. Now the sun teased the horizon, and the horses had reached their limit.
Rome wasn’t sure if it was sleep deprivation or his damn sentimental streak, but instead of stopping at a mission they’d passed a couple of hours back, he’d pushed them farther north to Florence, a verdant town on the southern bank of the Gila River. Seth’s former jurisdiction. The town Paris had duped Josh into believing was her destination when she’d run away from home last year. Due to circumstances Rome still didn’t believe, they’d ended up having to share a room at the Elliot House, one of the town’s hotels. Thinking Josh had compromised Paris, Seth had hauled in a Bible thumper in the middle of the night, forcing an in-room shotgun wedding.
Rome had been pissed at Josh a good while, until he realized how much the man loved his little sister. He’d never known two people more in love, except maybe Seth and Emily, who’d also married quickly. Maybe he was superstitious after all, because he couldn’t shake the desire to share his sister’s good fortune by seeking out that same Bible thumper.
He also booked them into the same hotel. The Elliot House. The innkeeper introduced himself as Mr. Loss. Rome recognized the name--Paris had told the story dozens of times--and took it as a good sign, an even better sign when the room he requested--room number 9--was available.
He’d signed the register Mr. and Mrs. Rome Garrett, thinking it was merely a projection of the truth, and hustled Kat up to the room. “You get some rest, sugar. I’m going to walk the horses over to the livery. They need food and water and--”
“Rest. I know. You can’t ride a dead horse. Speaking of--”
“I’m sure Seth’s fine.” Damn. They were beginning to finish each other’s sentences. That was a good sign, too, right?
Kat pulled off her boots and flopped on the bed without argument. “Hurry back so you can get some rest, too, Rome. We can’t stay long. We’re still a good sixty miles from Phoenix”
“I know.”
He hurried along, tended to the horses. He ignored curious glances. Yes, I’m the man you saw sketched on the cover of numerous dime novels. Yes, I’m the one you read adventurous tales about. Only he wasn’t. This was Rome Garrett stripped bare. No pretenses. No illusions. Just a man. A man in love.
He pondered wiring London, only he didn’t have anything of value to share. London was the one with the premium information. Did Boston and Frankie arrive safely? Any sign of Brady? Rome wouldn’t be in Florence long enough to receive a return wire. At least he didn’t think so. On the off chance, he stopped by the telegraph office.
DOG AND CAT STILL ON WAY. DID B AND CARGO ARRIVE? ANY SIGN OF SNAKE? RESPOND POSTHASTE. - DOG
Former dog, he thought as he left the mercantile in search of a specific preacher. It occurred to him that he’d been two-thirds true to his word to Him. He’d given up philandering and whiskey. But as far as thinking of Kat . . . Hopefully the Almighty was prone to giving leeway. He couldn’t stop thinking of Kat because he loved her. Surely he could be forgiven that.
He located Preacher Davis and roused him. Yes, he knew it was barely dawn. Since when was there a decent hour for eternal happiness? He talked the Bible thumper into accompanying him to the Elliot House, pausing when they reached the door marked 9.
The preacher clutched his Bible to his paunchy middle and stared at the door. “I’m experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu.”
“You married my sister to her husband in this same room last year.”
“Ah, yes. At the insistence of Sheriff Wright. Speaking of, you have no witness.”
“I’m thinking you and God count plenty. I just need you to wait here in the hall for a bit.”
“Why?”
“I need to brace Kat.”
“You mean you didn’t discuss this with the young lady first?” He tugged at his banded collar. “Listen, son, this is highly unorthodox.”
“Kat and I are unconventional folk. Give me five minutes, Preacher.”
The man frowned. “By all rights I should still be in bed.”
“Four minutes.” He entered the room and strode to the bed. “Kat. Baby. Wake up.”
“Ten more minutes,” she mumbled.
“I’ve only got four.” He pulled her into a sitting position. “Kat.”
Her eyes flew open. “I’m awake. I’m ready. Let’s go.” He sat next to her. “That’s good, sugar. I’m ready to go, too. But there’s something we have to do first.”
She shoved her tousled curls from her face. “What?”
“Get married.”
She blinked him into focus.
“I’ve got a preacher waiting in the hall, and he’s kind of grumpy so--”
“I can’t marry you.”
His insides froze. “You said you’d marry for love.”
She nodded.
“You said--”
“I love you, Rome.” She raked her hands through his hair, laid her forehead to his. “With all my heart.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Frankie.”
“How so?”
“What if you see her and ... see Brady?” She dropped her hands to her lap, glanced away. “I couldn’t bear it if you turned your back on her. On me.”
He interlaced his fingers with hers. “I won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I just am.”
She met his gaze, eyes shimmering with tears. “That’s not good enough.”
“I need it to be good enough. I need you to trust me. Listen.” He cupped her face and spoke his heart. “This is about you and me. We’re the foundation. I love you, Kat. Frankie is a part of you. So by extension, without even meeting her, I love her, too. No matter what. Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t want you to think I stayed because of Frankie or fled because of Frankie. I want you to know that I married you because I love you. You”
She massaged her chest and squeezed back tears. “I can’t think straight when you say things like that.”
“I don’t want you to think. I want you to feel.” He quirked one of his devilish smiles. “Come on, Kat. I thought you had an adventurous streak. Call me. Take a leap of faith. All in.”
She blew out a breath and quirked a shaky smile. “All in.” He kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with bone- deep passion. He checked himself when he lost track of time, bounded off the bed and wrenched open the door. “Come on in, Preacher.”
Kat had never given her wedding day extended thought. After her fallout with Rome six years ago, she’d pretty much given up on the idea of marriage, period. The few times she had dared to imagine, the ceremony had been simple, but she’d never imagined anything like this. Married in a hotel room by a preacher who looked like he’d been dragged out of bed and coerced into the proceedings.
No witnesses. No certificate. Was it even legal? It certainly didn’t seem real. Kat had stated her vows in some sort of daze. She wasn’t sure if the floating feeling was due to euphoria or lack of sleep. If it weren’t for the gold band on her finger, she’d chalk the episode up to a dream.
No sooner had Preacher Davis pronounced them man and wife when a knock came at the door. Rome moved into the hall, the preacher shook her hand and wished her luck, and suddenly she was standing alone contemplating her brush with insanity. For surely she’d been two cards shy of a deck to marry Rome Garrett in the midst of a crisis.
“You all right, Kat?” he asked as he reentered the room. “You look a little shaky.”
“I’m just. . . Did we just. . .”
“We did.”
She fingered the gold band. “So I’m ...”
“My wife.” He kissed her forehead, pressed a telegram in her hand. “Read this.”
She shook off her shock to focus on the words. A note from London. “B and cargo home safe and sound,” she read aloud. “No sign of the snake.” Her knees gave way. Rome caught her and guided her to the bed.
She felt faint with relief as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Her heart thudded against her ribs, and her voice came out a strained croak. “Frankie’s safe with your family.”
“Our family.” He took the wire from her trembling hands and read on. “Two PMs arrived this morning. Local law on alert. Security high. Watch your own back.” He pointed out the last line. “This part’s for you, sugar.”
She focused and read. “Tell Kat the kid’s happy, but says hurry up.” She swallowed and looked at Rome with misty eyes. “That’s her way of saying she misses me.”
He smiled and traced his thumb over her cheek. “Then we best hurry up”
For the first time she noticed the weariness about his eyes. She tugged at his hand, urging him to sit next to her. “You’ve slept even less than I have, Rome. You rented this room, and you didn’t even make use of the bed.”
He pocketed the telegram, then clasped her hand. “Didn’t rent the room for rest. Rented it for a wedding. Call me sentimental.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Or maybe superstitious.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Remind me later to tell you a story about my sister.”
Her lips quirked. “All right.” Her smile slipped when it registered that Paris was now her sister-in-law and that Rome’s brothers . . . She’d married into a big family. Frankie was with most of them now. Because of a lack of male influence, Kat imagined her idolizing Boston and London. She’d probably already bonded with Zach and Zoe, and if Kaila was as nice as they all made her sound... No wonder Frankie was happy. She’d gotten her heart’s desire--to be with family.
Feeling queasy, Kat pressed a hand to her stomach. Now instead of aching to be in Phoenix, she dreaded it. She believed Rome when he said he’d love Frankie, no matter what. At least she believed he’d try. But what if he couldn’t? What if she had to walk away, just her and Frankie? Just the two of them. Would Frankie be able to forgive her for ripping her away from the only “family” she’d ever known?
“What the hell, Kat? You look like you’re going to pass out.” He pressed her back onto the bed. “I know it’s been a taxing journey. I just didn’t realize how much of a toll it took on you. I’m sorry, sugar.”
“I’m all right. Just . . . overwhelmed.”
“Lie still. We can afford an hour or two.” He stretched out beside her and maneuvered her into a spooning position. He stroked her arm and spoke close to her ear. “Frankie is well protected. Peacemakers and local lawmen are patrolling Phoenix. Even if Brady doesn’t hit town, he’s as good as caught.”
“He’s always eluded the law in the past. What makes you think this time will end differently?”
“Because he’s letting his personal feelings muck up his judgment.”
She wondered if the same could be said for Rome and herself. “You make it sound like it’s all over.”
“On the contrary, sugar.” He kissed the back of her neck, caressed her ringed finger. “It’s only just begun.”
CHAPTER 37
Gila Gulch
For a spell there, Brady had worried his luck had run out. Train robbery gone awry. Gunshot wound. The gang two men down from lucky seven. But then he’d sought out an old acquaintance, a power-hungry cattleman with helpful ties, Newt Gaffey.
Turned out Gaffey was not only willing to give Brady shelter, but also to be his eyes and ears in Phoenix. Not him personally, but two of his men. A couple of bad-egg cowboys who could circulate without raising suspicion. All Brady had to do was pay them handsomely for their trouble.
As for Gaffey, the only reward he wanted was to see the Garretts crushed. Two weeks past, Rome had killed his right-hand gunman, Wild-Man Dan. Boston had intimidated the local marshal, a man on Gaffey’s payroll, and London, along with the county sheriff, had dared to ride onto his ranch and issue a thinly veiled threat.
“No one crosses me without paying the consequences” he’d said, to which Brady responded, “I knew there was a reason we got on.”
Shacked up in an abandoned adobe on the outer fringes of Gaffey’s property for the second day in a row, Brady played cards with Boyd to pass the time. The laudanum had dulled the pain in his shoulder, but the fever persisted. Brady was cranky and anxious, wondering what was going down in Phoenix. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Gaffey seemed confident of his men’s abilities,” said Boyd. “You showed them the image of the kid, described Kat. You offered them a staggering reward should they help Itchy and Mule deliver one or both to you. I’m thinking since they haven’t returned by now, they’re waiting until nightfall to act. I’m thinking in a few hours you’ll be receiving a delivery.” “Hence the suspense. Kat? Frankie? Or both?”
Boyd eased back in his chair, rolled a cigarette. His silence grated.
“What?”
“If it’s the kid . . .”
“Spit it out.”
“I’m all for obliterating the Garretts. Don’t begrudge you wanting to square things with your woman. But dragging a little girl along with us?”
Brady shuffled the dog-eared cards. “Just need to get her over the Mexican border.”
“That’s a good long ride, Bulls-Eye.”
“I’m aware. Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I believe you. Just saying. Long ride.”
“I got that.”
“Every lawman in the Territory will be on our tails.”
“Think of it as a challenge.”
Boyd fired up his smoke and studied the hand Brady dealt him.
Brady gnashed his teeth. “Something else on your mind?”
“Elroy. Don’t think he’ll be coming back.”
“He’ll be back. You rode into Gila Gulch with him yesterday. He didn’t try to run off or contact anyone. You vouched he kept to himself while you purchased food supplies and that one measly bottle of laudanum.”
“That’s all we could lay our hands on.”
“Like I said, I need more. That and whiskey.”
“You should’ve sent me.”
“You and your steady gun hand are more valuable here. Besides, Elroy was getting on my nerves, pacing like a nervous Nellie.” In addition, Brady wanted him to pick up a gift for Frankie. He didn’t feel comfortable asking that of Boyd. Didn’t want the man to think he was soft. But, dammit, he couldn’t leave go of the possibility that he’d fathered a child with the only woman who’d ever possessed his heart. He massaged his chest, rolled his sore shoulder. Desperate not to think on Kat, he focused back on his cousin. “He’ll be back. He ain’t got nowhere else to go.”
Phoenix
“Just about now, I’d welcome a disturbance of any kind,” Josh said. “A drunk using that cactus as target practice. Paris going into labor.” Cheroot stabbed between his fingers, he blew out a stream of smoke, rolling his eyes when feminine voices rose in disagreement, then just as suddenly burst into laughter.
London’s lips twitched as he lazed against one of the veranda’s posts. Boston had run upstairs to check on Zach, Zoe, and Frankie, while London and Josh had stepped outside for some fresh air.
“They window-shopped half the day,” Josh went on, “and spent the other half of the day at the Cafe Poppy sampling pastries and cakes and they still can’t decide on decorations and refreshments.”
“Stop bellyaching, Grant. At least they’re happy and distracted. If they weren’t chattering about the wedding reception, they’d be worrying about Athens and Seth.”
Josh crushed his cheroot under the heel of his boot. “Hell, I’m concerned about those two. Why the devil were they delayed in Fulton?”
“Since Athens didn’t elaborate in his telegram, your guess is as good as mine. He said they’d be here as soon as possible. Said Rome would explain.”
“And we’re expecting him ...”
“Any minute now? Tomorrow morning?” London gazed out in the dusk, hoping they’d arrive like Boston and Frankie, safe and sound, under the cloak of night. “Like I said, they wired from Florence. Guess it depends on how hard they’re pushing or if they run into any trouble.”