Dare-Devil Daisy (Mail Order Brides Rescue Series Book 5)

by Jo Grafford

  Her spare outfit arrived, and her dusty gown and underthings were whisked away for laundering. “We’ll return them in the morning,” the cheery faced maid assured. “Will that be all, Ms. Danvers?”

  “Yes, thank you.” In the past, she might have questioned the staff about their cleaning methods or demanded that some other luxury be brought to her room. Tonight, she was merely grateful for everything being provided exactly as it was with no interference from herself.

  At exactly a quarter past eight, a knock sounded on her door. Prescott was waiting on the other side in a long, navy dinner jacket over black trousers and glossy black boots. His hair was damp and slicked back. He looked so different from the rangy cowboy she’d spent the last twenty-four hours with that her breath hitched and all speech evaded her.

  A thousand uncertainties entered her mind. The dress I’m wearing is a little loose, so much so that I had to remove my diamond necklace and hide it beneath the hotel mattress. Also, my skirts are too long and drag the ground a bit. I’ll have to be careful not to trip on them. I did not have the time to give my hair its usual attention. And, oh, what I wouldn’t give for the wee bag of cosmetics left behind with my baggage at the train station!

  “May I enter? I come bearing gifts.” Prescott held out a drawstring reticule crocheted in an ivory lace pattern.

  “Oh, thank you!” She reached for the lovely handbag, wondering how and where he’d managed to get his hands on such a gift on such short notice. She was delighted to see it had a thick lining of ivory fabric. It would serve as the perfect hiding place for her diamond necklace.

  It suddenly dawned on her that he was waiting patiently while she blocked the doorway. “Come in.” She stepped aside and watched dazedly as he paraded no less than three servants into the room bearing trays of food and a pot of tea.

  “Dinner is served, m’lady.” He pulled out a chair from the table for two at the far side of the room. “After you, darlin’.”

  She took her seat, breathless at being so close to him again. He smelled so clean and looked so debonair in his dinner suit. Even his scarred hands and wrists didn’t seem so, well, scarred in his evening wear.

  Prescott nodded at the servants, and they filed silently from the room. Then he took a knee before her.

  Her heart leaped into her throat. “What are you doing, Press?”

  “What does it look like, darlin’?” He reached for her hands.

  “I thought we discussed this,” she breathed, unable to tear her fascinated gaze away from his dark, intense one.

  “Not the way I want to.” The pads of his thumbs were brushing lazy, distracting circles across the tops of her hands.

  “Oh?”

  “I want to marry you, Daisy Danvers. I want to marry you because of your sass and sense of adventure. I want to marry you because of the way you make me feel when we’re together. Because of the way you kiss me and because of the way you make me ache for more.” His hands tightened on hers. “I don’t want whatever is happening between us to end when I deliver you to Meg Nicholson’s home. I don’t care how much she may have interfered in our lives. I don’t give a fig if she set us up. May the good Lord bless her again and again if she is truly guilty as charged. I only care about you, my dare-devil sweetheart, and what you think of me. Right here. Right now.”

  So much for her fears about duty and honor. Prescott sounded like a man dangerously close to falling in love. As was she…

  Her heart was beating a rapid, erratic rhythm. “I believe I previously established I cannot think at all when you are this close to me.”

  He reached up to cup her cheek. “I don’t require any long speeches, darlin’. All you need to say is yes.”

  She swayed closer to him, feeling lightheaded and longing for him to kiss her again.

  He brushed a thumb across her lower lip. “You traveled a long way to Headstone, expecting to meet and marry a husband in short order. Let that man be me.” He drew a deep breath. “I want this. I want us.”

  So do I. Very, very, very much!

  “Yes. I will marry you.” Daisy closed the short distance between them and put them both out of their misery by pressing her mouth to his.

  Chapter 8: Showdown!

  Prescott

  “I cannot believe I met the man I am to marry the moment I stepped off the train,” Daisy murmured between kisses.

  Prescott rested his forehead against hers, breathing in her soapy, flowery scent. “We had a little help from the robbers, not that I am complaining.”

  She shivered and gripped his shoulders. “Do you think they’re gone?”

  He drew a long-suffering breath, loving the way her hands felt on his shoulders while hating the necessity of telling her the truth. “My gut says no.” He’d taken the time to pay a visit to the telegraph office a half hour ago. Hopefully, his brothers and Sheriff Oterra would respond to his questions with haste.

  “Because of my necklace?”

  “Yes.” He raised his head from hers and stood, though he was loath to let go of her hand. He suspected the train robbers weren’t ordinary robbers. It was more likely they were bounty hunters sent by the gambling ring her father had gotten himself involved with back East. And in his experience, bounty hunters didn’t give up that easily. They lingered in the shadows, watching and waiting, until they succeeded in collecting what they’d come for.

  “What are we going to do, Press?” She gazed beseechingly up at him.

  He was still figuring their next steps, but he very much liked her use of the word “we.”

  Still keeping his fingers tangled with hers, he reached for his chair, dragging it closer so he could sit beside her. “What we’re going to do first is dine together, darlin’.” Before she could utter another protest, he raised the silver lid on the first tray.

  She gasped at the array of steamy and succulent meats. “Oh, my!”

  There were small squares of roast beef, ham, chicken, and pork. Prescott had purposefully ordered a feast to impress his woman. He wanted her trust and confidence. He wanted her to quit worrying about money and the future. He wanted her to understand how very capable he was of providing for her and the family they would have together. Lord, have mercy, but that was a heady thought! Where had it come from?

  In the attempt to distract himself from such delicious insanity, he forked a bite of roast beef and held it out to her.

  Instead of reaching for the fork handle and feeding herself, she leaned forward and closed her lips around the bite. “Mmm…” She closed her eyes dreamily as she chewed. “This is so-o-o good!”

  He speared a bite of ham and roast beef for himself and ate them together. Then he lifted the lid to the second tray to reveal a mound of diced fruit. There were strawberries, grapes, melon, and kiwi — most of it imported from California. He picked up one of the strawberries between his thumb and forefinger and held it to her lips.

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him as she took it into her mouth.

  It was no ordinary smile. It was one of those siren smiles a woman reserved for her man, and it made it impossible for him to breathe normally.

  “Come here, darlin’.” He patted his knees.

  She didn’t require any more urging. She rose and slid into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. “You make me so happy, Press.”

  His heart swelled, and he kissed her tenderly. No woman had ever looked at him like that before. No one had ever made him feel so wanted and needed. In her arms, he was more than a cowboy or a bull rider. He was more than the part-owner of a diamond mine. He was a king, one who belonged completely and irrevocably to her.

  “I cannot wait to meet your brothers and Madge!” She palmed his cheeks, beaming at him. “After being an only child for so many years, to think I will finally have a family! A real one!”

  He grinned at her, suspecting that Levi, Tennyson, Dodge, and Madge were going to fall in love with her at first sight. Just like he did.

  He blinked
at her.

  “What is it, Press?” She laughed and leaned in for another kiss.

  I’m in love with you, darlin’. I know it’s too soon to tell you, but… He kissed her back, pouring his entire heart into the kiss. By the time he raised his head from hers, she was breathless. He hoped that meant she was experiencing the same magic, the same miracle as he was. He gazed into her eyes and gave her a deep, soul-searching look.

  “Yes,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “I feel it, too.”

  He held up her left hand and laced his fingers through hers, rubbing his thumb over her ring finger. “How do you feel about yellow diamonds?”

  “I’m a girl.” She blew him a kiss. “I love sparkly things.”

  “Does that mean you’ll wear one for me?”

  “It does.”

  “Good. We’ll visit the jeweler and have one set in a wedding band for you.”

  “I’d like that. Very much.”

  They lapsed into a dreamy silence. “Tell me more about Hope’s Landing,” Daisy finally begged softly.

  “I’ve never had the patience for paperwork,” he confessed after a pause. “So I’ve more or less fallen into the task of overseeing the construction side of the mining business.”

  “Have you?” she mused with a smile. Pride in him shone in her eyes.

  “My crew and I build all the doors to the shafts, the storage crates, the cargo cars, that sort of thing. We also build and maintain all the cottages and cabins the miners live in. Additionally, I’ve been helping construct some new homes at the Nicholsons’ ranch. They’ve a decent number of migrant workers and more or less run a community of their own over there.”

  “What about you?” She caressed his cheek. “Where do you live?”

  He could see the real question in her eyes. She wanted to know where they would live once they were married. “I moved into one of the empty miner’s cabins after Levi married Felicity. They’ve taken over the main ranch house. Tennyson and Callie built their own home on a few adjacent acres. I’ve been deeded off a piece of ground, as well. That’s where we’ll build.”

  Her eyes widened. “It sounds lovely.”

  “It is.” He tapped her nose. “I can’t wait until you get your first glimpse of the red mesas and canyons outside the windows of our new home.”

  “A home with a view,” she sighed. “I couldn’t ask for more.”

  “God’s artwork,” he agreed, never wanting the evening to end. He stayed until her eyelids were drooping, spinning dreams of their future together. Then he reluctantly bid her goodnight.

  Prescott paid another visit to the telegraph office in Rattlesnake Junction the next morning. His oldest brother, Levi, had written him back. Robbers got away. STOP Sheriff is searching. STOP

  It wasn’t what he’d hoped to learn. The men hunting Daisy remained at large. They would take another run at her soon. He was sure of it. Well, they could try, but they would have to go through him first. Her soon-to-be husband.

  A few days ago, he would have called anyone loco who dared to claim he might settle down with a woman soon. He valued his independence and preferred to approach life as an adventure one day at a time. But that was before he met Daisy. Every day with her would be an adventure worth living.

  He penned another telegram, requesting an escort for their ride home. He didn’t dare march Daisy alone on his horse back into town, not with such a big set of crosshairs resting on her lovely forehead. He wanted his brothers at their side and any other cowboys they could muster up on such short notice.

  He paid a visit to Daisy’s hotel room next to tell her the good news. They would return to Headstone as soon as their escort party arrived. He was looking forward to showing her off to his brothers. But mostly he was anxious to lay eyes on her once more and even more anxious to share their next kiss.

  He found the door to her room gaping wide.

  “Daisy!” He pushed inside the room, frantically scanning the antique furnishings. The doors to the wardrobe were thrown open, and the credenza drawers were pulled out at odd angles. One was dumped upside down on the floor. The bed linens were twisted and lying on the floor as if someone had snatched them up quickly. The heavy drapes on the windows had been torn from their hooks and rods and tossed like weary ladies across the nearest sofa. Cushions, pillows, roses, and pots were scattered everywhere.

  “My, God! Daisy!” She’d been taken! Prescott stumbled around the room like a drunkard, reeling with shock. The robbers had caught up to them sooner than he’d anticipated.

  Because of the rodeo. Consarn it! I’m such a fool. The world’s biggest fool! Word must have spread about his record-setting ten seconds on the bull. Blast it all! The news was likely splashed across the front page of every major gazette in the region. The robbers would have recognized his face as the one who’d ridden off with Daisy from the train station.

  Cocky! Daisy had called him that, and he’d claimed he was merely confident. But it was his over-confidence that proved to be his downfall. And hers. Blast every one of his puffed up assurances that he could provide for her and protect her when his foolish pride was the reason she was now missing.

  He had every intention of getting her back, of course. Dragging in a few tortured breaths, he fought to calm the insanity rising in his throat. He’d be of no use in finding the love of his life if he couldn’t think clearly. He summoned the same iron-clad control he’d used during those deadly seconds on the back of a bull. Blocking out his own terror and heartache, he took another look at the room, this time with a cold, assessing eye.

  Daisy’s new reticule was lying on the floor with one of the straps torn off. Wanting to howl his misery to the heavens, he strode across the room to pick it up. It was empty. Well, almost empty. Of all things, one of the porcelain teacups from last night was resting inside.

  He pulled it out and held it up. Finding it there felt strangely deliberate. Like someone was trying to send him a message. Daisy! The message had to be from her. “Teacup, tea, dinner for two,” he chanted, remembering the intimate dinner they had shared. What are you trying to tell me, darlin’? “Teacup, tea, teapot… Teapot!” His gaze shot to the table where they had dined. The gold embossed teapot was on display in plain sight.

  He leaped across the room to set down the teacup and open the pot. The scent of cold tea and distilled spices wafted to his nostrils. He bent to take a closer look and saw something gleaming inside. Either someone had added some very sparkly ice cubes to the tea, or…

  He pulled out Daisy’s dripping diamond necklace. She’d managed to hide the precious jewels from her abductors. Which meant she was alive! For now.

  An agonized burst of joy nearly buckled Prescott’s knees. “You’re alive,” he said weakly, needing to hear the words aloud. She was alive, and her captors would keep her that way until they got the information they needed from her. God only knew what methods they would resort to while questioning her. His knees turned to pudding all over again.

  “Please, God.” He wasn’t normally a religious man, and he certainly wasn’t a praying one, but these were desperate times. “If you bring her back to me safe and whole, I give you my word I’ll start going to church. I’ll try to stop cussing. Blast it all! I’ll even wear gloves if such things matter to you!” He didn’t have anything else to bargain with. His wealth and vast resources were of no use in this matter. According to his dearly departed mother, God’s love couldn’t be bought. “I’ll do anything, Father God. Anything you ask, if only you give me a second chance to love Daisy the way she deserves to be loved.” He blinked and discovered his lashes were damp with tears.

  The thought popped into his mind that Daisy’s captors would likely be heading back to the hotel soon. Whether or not they succeeded in getting her to talk, they would assume he had the necklace in his possession, and they’d be right.

  He bolted the hotel door shut and worked furiously to put her room back to rights. Back when they were living on the mountain,
Old Mack had taught him a thing or two about setting traps — both to catch prey as well as to scare away unwanted predators.

  In this case, the bounty hunters who’d captured Daisy were the unwanted predators. After making her bed and rehanging her curtains, he set himself to returning the many dozens of roses to their various urns and vases. He discovered a broom in a closet and used it to sweep up the soil scattered across the floor and rugs. Next, came the real work.

  He opened the door to her room, knelt in front of the frame, and stretched and mounted one of the curtain ties about ten inches off the floor. It would trip the next person who tried to enter. Then he shut the door and went to work on the main entryway, smearing lotion and cream across the floor to make it nice and slick. Any unsuspecting person who tried to walk across it would lose their footing as if stepping on a sheet of ice.

  He swiftly and meticulously turned the room into a trek of deadly perils. Now he was ready to face Daisy’s abductors. Affixing her diamond necklace around his own neck, he took a seat at the table for two where they’d dined the evening before. He angled his chair to face the door and waited.

  Nearly an hour passed before a knock sounded.

  “Come in!” he called with false joviality, raising two pistols.

  The door opened, and a man appeared with a gun in each hand. He could shoot, but not before Prescott got off a shot of his own. They would both die if bullets started to fly.

  “Prescott Barra,” the man snarled. “Figured I would find you here.”

  “You know my name,” he noted cheerfully. “I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

  “My name’s not important,” the bandit growled. “All you need to do is hand over the necklace, and I’ll be gone.”