Jared (Bachelors And Babies Book 7)

by Charlene Raddon

  When she could stand it no longer, she asked the big man, "Where are we going?"

  "Quiet, Miss Healy," Chips whispered."Don't want the boss more riled than he already is."

  "But what is he going to do with me?" she argued."If he means to kill me, we don't need to go so far."

  "Don't know what he intends," Chips answered. "Now, shut up."

  Afraid of turning her only ally against her, she did as ordered. She thought they would never stop Her bottom throbbed and the icy wind froze her legs. Chips' large body shielded her from the worst of the cold. Her stomach growled. Over and over, she prayed they would halt soon.

  "Quit squirming," Chips hissed in her ear.

  "I can't help it. I'm aching from all this riding."

  "Sorry," he said. "Can't be helped."

  His tone held sympathy, causing her to wonder as she had before, why he'd be with a man like Skelly. "Chips, you know, I suspect you're a kind man at heart. Why do you do the bidding of a monster like Skelly?"

  He ignored her question for so long, she'd quit expecting an answer. Then he said, "Folks feel uneasy with hiring a big ugly man like me, Miss Ruth. I couldn't get any other job unless I hired out as a killer."

  She twisted in her seat to look at him. "But you're working for a killer now."

  He gave a slight shrug. "I didn't know that when I hired on."

  "Besides, you're not ugly," she blurted. "You're big, but I'd call you attractive."

  "You've always been nice to me and I've appreciated it but don't exaggerate."

  "Do you appreciate me—" Hope leaped into her heart, and she twisted around to see him. "—enough to help me get away?"

  "Aw, Miss Ruth, don't ask that. I want to help you, but I've got other ideas on how to go about that."

  "What ideas?"

  "You'll find out. Now, turn back around before someone notices we're talking. You'll get me fired. Or shot."

  "I wouldn't want that." She pivoted in her seat. "But, if there's any way you could help me, I'd be forever in your debt."

  "It's too bad all folks aren't as kind as you are, miss." His voice held a yearning that touched her heart. If she survived, she'd find a way to help him better himself and his life.

  "Anyway, looks like we're here."

  She saw the town then, still a small distance off. "What town is this? Is it Pony where I saw you before?"

  "That's right. Skelly sent me to check some things out." He leaned closer and whispered, "Now, don't be scared. I ain't gonna let him hurt you."

  Skelly, up ahead had slowed, causing the row of riders to tighten so she and Chips could no longer be sure they weren't overheard.

  Relief and hope blossomed inside Healy. Relief from the knowledge that they would soon be getting off these horses and hope that she'd find a way to escape.

  To her surprise, Skelly didn't go to a hotel or a café for food. He rode straight to a church, dismounting in front.

  The other men tied their horses at the hitching rail. Chips lifted Healy down, his hands on her waist. When their heads came close together, he whispered, "I gotta leave you now, but I'll be back."

  He turned to Skelly. "I'll fetch the preacher."

  Preacher! Why did they need a preacher?

  Skelly took her arm, leading her up to the church door. "Smile, my dear. You're about to become my wife."

  Healy's first instinct was to run. She would have, had Skelly not had such a tight grip on her. Her heart leaped into her throat and she feared she would faint.

  "What are you talking about? I haven't said I'd marry you." She clawed at his hand on her arm with trembling fingers.

  "Why, of course you did, Ruth. Last month. I asked you to marry me and you said yes. Have you forgotten?" His voice came low, gruff, and menacing.

  No one occupied the church. No one to plead with for rescue. No one to object to what Skelly intended. She had to get away before Chips returned with the preacher. What could she say that would change Skelly's mind without inspiring him to murder her on the spot?

  "I'm no virgin, you know." She blurted the lie, not caring if she ruined her reputation. In a few minutes, she'd be married to Skelly. Or dead. What would it matter then if her name was sullied?

  "That truly makes no difference to me." He pushed her down onto one of the pews. "Where is Chips with that minister?"

  "You want me to look for him, boss?" the man she'd heard called Percy volunteered.

  She wanted to kick him and tell him to mind his own business. Let Chips take as much time as necessary. More than necessary. In fact, it would suit her fine if he never came back, so long as the minister didn't show either. So what if the men were becoming bored? Ax sat on the steps whittling while Percy paced back and forth.

  Jared. Oh, Jared, where are you? Are you coming? Or are you glad to be rid of me?

  The door opened and Chips entered. Alone.

  "Got a problem, boss," he said. "The minister went out of town to conduct a funeral. Won't be back until morning."

  Healy closed her eyes. The reprieve would give her time to come up with a solution. What that would be, she had no idea, yet.

  "Very well." Skelly yanked her up from the bench. "We'll stay at the hotel tonight and be married in the morning."

  Could she hope for a ground floor room with a window she could crawl out of? Or would Skelly insist on sharing her room? God, spare me that.

  How ironic that little more than two weeks ago, she had been looking forward to becoming Mrs. Skelly Bernard. She'd even anticipated her wedding night with excitement. She'd been so naïve. No, not naïve—stupid. Did she dare trust her instincts on anything if this is an example of her ability?

  That would mean doubting her growing feelings for Jared. She had been sure she was falling in love with him. She'd even thought he might be developing strong emotions for her.

  They walked across the street to the hotel, and Skelly approached the desk. A tall man stood there wearing a staid expression and uncaring eyes. His name tag said Anthony Ott.

  "Two rooms, please," Skelly said in his commanding voice.

  The clerk didn't even blink. "Your name?"

  "Bernard. Skelly Bernard."

  "Will that be Mr. and Mrs. Bernard in one room and your two male companions in the other?" Anthony asked, his face blank as a fence post.

  "Yes," Skelly said.

  "No." Healy stated her denial in as firm a voice as possible. "We are not married yet, Mr. Bernard."

  Anthony jerked. His eyes widened, his brow lowered, and the very stiffness of his thin body made clear his disapproval of two unmarried people sharing a room. "A room for Mr. Bernard then and one for Miss…?

  "Miss Kimbrough," she said, despite Skelly's glare.

  "Very good, miss." Anthony wrote their names in the register while Skelly fumed beside Healy and she almost expected him to object and insist on one room. The clerk laid out two keys, one in front of Skelly and the other he handed to Healy.

  "You'd best give my men a room to share," Skelly said.

  "Of course, Mr. Bernard." He produced another key. "Miss Kimbrough's room is upstairs at the end of the hallway. Your room, Mr. Bernard, is across from hers. The third room will be down the second hallway, second door on the left."

  They thanked him and turned toward the stairs. Healy sensed the anger Skelly held in and prayed he kept it contained.

  "Give me that key," he demanded in a low voice he obviously didn't want Anthony to hear.

  Healy didn't want to obey, but her escape could well depend on her ability to dupe Skelly into trusting her, though she feared it might be too late for that. Just in case, she forced her lips to curve upward as she placed the key in his hand. "Of course, Skelly."

  "Clean up. We'll have supper in the dining room. I'll wait for you here. Tap when you're ready." With that, he shoved her into her room, and the lock clicked, trapping her inside.

  Healy paid little attention to the plain but serviceable furniture. Her only intere
st lay with the two windows in the far corner. Rushing over, she peered out to see that one looked down on an alley. Covered rain barrels stood against the wall under the window. She could crawl out and drop down onto them.

  "Ruth?" Skelly called through the door.

  Healy hurried to the washstand, splashed water on her face and washed her hands in the pretty china basin. Glad she'd thought to bring her brush she tidied her hair as well as she could.

  "I'm ready." She tapped on the door.

  It opened, and Skelly stood there waiting. "Good. Come along."

  As he escorted her down the stairs, she worked up her courage and asked, "Skelly, aren't you worried the Givens men and their hands won't come after you? They could have wired the marshals in nearby towns."

  "No, I'm not concerned. Those hayseeds you were living with aren't bright enough to figure out where we've gone. They'll simply follow the road and keep going right on past this odd little town called Pony."

  Healy swallowed a snicker. He had no idea how intelligent the Givens brothers were. Maybe she could use that against him.

  In the restaurant, Skelly chose seats by the window where they could keep watch on the comings and goings in the street. He shoved Healy onto a chair hidden from outside passersby by a curtain. A young man with a hooked nose waited on them. Skelly ordered pot roast for her and himself and let his hired men choose their own meals. Naturally, they selected steaks.

  Talk remained minimal during supper and, soon, Skelly had locked Healy inside her room again. A glimpse through the window assured her the rain barrels waited still underneath. She would lie down and wait for an hour at least before trying to make her departure. She spent the first few minutes going through her satchel, unable to remember exactly what she'd packed. There had been so much going on at the time and she'd been so frightened. Her fear hadn't lessened much, but she felt she had good control over it.

  At the bottom of her bag, she came upon the cumbersome recording device Jared had created. She had almost forgotten putting it there. The two main pieces that made up the phonograph recorder took up nearly every inch of space inside the satchel. One piece consisted of a phonograph turntable, the other part being the microphone amplifier. She remembered Jared telling her how Thomas Edison had invented the first such machine. Jared had simply created his own version according to what he'd read about Edison's. A microphone diaphragm sensed changes in atmospheric pressure caused by the sound waves a voice produced and a needle called a stylus cut grooves into a plate which, when played later, repeated what had been said into the microphone. Healy considered it ingenious.

  When she'd taken it from Jared's room, she hadn't been sure what use she could put it to, but now, an idea formed in her mind. If she could set up the phonograph here in her room where it wouldn't be noticed—behind the bed perhaps—and could get Skelly to talk about the man he had murdered, she'd have actual evidence of his crime. Getting the recording to a lawman would be the tricky part.

  The more she thought about the plan, the better she felt about her chances for success. First, she'd have to place the machine where it could be used. Then she'd need a way to get Skelly to come into her room and talk to her.

  She'd been right about the best place to hide the machine being on the floor behind the bed's headboard. It took her forever to reassemble it. Once she had it ready to use, she went to her door. Pounding on the door, she called Skelly's name repeatedly until, at last, he yelled back, "What do you want, girl? You're creating a racket."

  "I need to speak to you."

  She heard him cursing on the other side of her door. Finally, the key grated in the lock and he let himself in.

  "What is it?" he asked, glaring down at her.

  "I-I wanted to explain why I left." She sat in the only chair, and, with a wave of her hand, indicated for him to sit on the bed.

  He let out an exaggerated sigh of exasperation but accepted her invitation. "All right, what did you feel was so important to tell me? I already know why you left. You didn't want to marry me."

  "Yes, but only because I overheard your conversation with the chief of police about having a man killed."

  "I feared that might be the case." He ran a finger above his upper lip, a habit he'd gotten at an earlier time when he had a mustache. "You did understand, did you not, that the man, Obermeier, had meant to hurt me? He was a dangerous man, and I needed to defend myself."

  "Now that I've had time to think about it, I have concluded that to be the case, but you must know how it frightened me to hear you discuss the man's death so baldly."

  "Mm, I suppose so. Have you discussed this with anyone?" he asked.

  "Oh, no, Skelly." She leaned toward him earnestly. "That might have gotten you into trouble with the law. I didn't want that. Not when I'm so fond of you."

  "I see." Folding his hands in his lap, he asked, "How did you know what man McCurdle and I were discussing?"

  "You told Rupert to see that the man suffered an accidental drowning." She clapped a hand to her chest in a dramatic gesture to indicate her horror at hearing that. "The next morning McCurdle reported in the paper that Oscar Obermeier had accidentally drowned in the river."

  "A clever deduction on your part, my dear Ruth." He gave her a smile that sent a chill down her back. "But that was one reason I admired you, because you were smart."

  "Thank you, Skelly."She spread her lips in a simulated smile, praying he didn't see through her lies."That means a lot to me."

  "Was that all you wished to speak to me about, Ruth?"

  "Yes. I feared you might have misunderstood my reasons for leaving as I did." She stood to signal that he could take his departure. "I feel better knowing you understand. You see, had I not gotten that off my chest, it might have interfered with the success of our marriage, which I didn't want."

  He too stood. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure we shall be quite happy together."

  "Yes. I am as well."

  He walked to the door and unlocked it, then turned to her and bent to kiss her. She shuddered at the thought but submitted. Like before, he ground his mouth against hers, wet and sloppy. Closing her eyes, she pretended to be kissing Jared and tried to kiss him back. Not easy when he pressed down on her mouth so hard, but Skelly left seeming satisfied.

  When he paused to draw a breath, she wriggled away from him. "I'd best try to sleep, Skelly. Tomorrow is a big day and I want to look my best."

  He gazed at her a long time. Debating whether to believer her? She hoped not. To hurry him along, she took him by the arm, smiled up at him and led him to the door. "I can't wait for tomorrow."

  "Hm. We could—"

  "No, Skelly. I want my wedding night to be perfect, and it wouldn't be if we anticipated the event."

  After a moment, he nodded. "Very well. Goodnight, my dear."

  At last he left, and she shot the bolt home. Going to the bed, she collapsed on the lumpy mattress, her nerves exhausted. Moments later, she jumped to her feet and rushed to see if the recording device had worked.

  Chapter Thirteen

  To see that the stylus had indeed carved grooves into the thin, round phonograph plate filled Healy with elation. Her hand moved to the "on" knob and stopped. When Jared had played it for her after he recorded them talking, the sound had been scratchy and loud. She didn't dare listen to it now, much as she wanted to. She'd simply have to pray that it had properly recorded Skelly's confession.

  Her desire to celebrate had to be ignored as well. Her next step was to get it to the town marshal. Skelly would be arrested, and she could go home to High Mountain.

  After disassembling the recorder, she packed it away in her bag again, stuffing her clothes around it. To climb out the window in skirts would be tricky. If only she had a pair of boy's pants to wear, or Cynara's split skirt. As soon as she dressed, she went to the window, set her bag on a chair and, quietly as possible, inched the window upward.

  She had one leg thrust outside the window when Skelly kn
ocked and yelled her name through the door as if he could see her about to escape.

  Healy's heart jumped into her throat and she gasped. Dare she hurry and finish climbing out even though he stood right outside her room?

  "Ruth. Answer me."

  Fear filled her and she trembled. She had to respond. Otherwise he might break the door down and catch her fleeing out the window.

  "I'll be right there, Skelly. I was getting ready for bed."

  "Put on a robe." A key grated in the lock. "I'm opening the door."

  She drew in her leg, whirled and closed the window.

  The lock clicked open.

  Opening the bag, she took out her brush and hurried to the bed. With one hand, she pulled out the pins in her hair, while unbuttoning a few buttons on the front of her bodice with the other.

  The door swung open, hitting the wall. Skelly stepped inside.

  Healy quickly did up the fastenings on her dress. "I was undressing, Skelly."

  Did her voice sound as unsteady as she felt? She watched him, trying to see some sign of anger or a hint that he knew what she'd attempted.

  "Word has come that the minister has returned. We are to meet him at the church."

  "B-but I'm so tired," she mumbled, faking a yawn.

  "Leave your bag here. We'll be coming back." His smile made her skin crawl. "Isn't that nice? We won't need two rooms after all. Now, come along."

  He followed her out of the room. Chips and Percy waited in the hallway. With Skelly preceding her down the stairs, and his bodyguards behind, she could do nothing to get away. Perhaps when they reached the street, she could scream for the marshal. Unluckily, she didn't have any way of knowing if the marshal was in town. He could be away somewhere. No, screaming would be too dangerous.

  Drat! If Skelly stayed in her room that night, he might find the recorder. Her mind scrambled for an answer. If only Jared would suddenly appear out of the air.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs, and she cast her gaze around the lobby, hoping for someone she could enlist to aid her. People occupied the restaurant but too far away. The hotel desk stood unattended.