Читать книгу The Dreammaker - Judith Stacy, Judith Stacy - Страница 9

Kaitlin threw her weight against the door, but Tripp was too fast and too strong. He pushed it open, sending her flying backward across the bed.

“Who do you think you are!” Kaitlin sprang to her knees in the center of the soft, feather mattress, anger flushing her cheeks. “Get out of here!”

He slammed the door shut and strode in the center of the room, his legs braced wide apart. “I’m not going anywhere, lady, until I get what I came here for.”

She pushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “I’ve got nothing that belongs to you!”

“You’re a liar. You’re a—”

He stopped, his gaze homing in on her belly.

Kaitlin followed his line of vision to her wrapper gaping open, the sash hanging loose at her sides exposing her flat stomach. She gasped and crossed her hands over her middle.

His eyes narrow. “What happened to your baby?”

Kaitlin scrambled off the opposite side of the bed, her anger gone, ribbons of fear in its place. She gulped. “I—I gave birth.”

He advanced on her. “Yeah? Where’s the kid?”

Kaitlin backed away waving her hands around the room. “It’s here…somewhere.”

Tripp rounded the end of the bed. “Hell, you’re not even a good liar.”

Kaitlin pointed a finger at him. “Keep away from me.” She tried to sound harsh, threatening, but her voice was nothing more than a squeak.

She bumped into the corner and looked around frantically. There was no place to run. He towered over her. He came closer, hemming her in.

“I’ll scream. I’ll scream my head off and have everybody in the hotel up here.”

“Go ahead! Scream until you’re hoarse! Get the sheriff up here, too. I’m sure he’d love to hear you explain this.” Tripp grabbed a handful of her wrapper at her belly, and yanked it. Kaitlin fell against him.

Her arms wrapped around him, her nose burrowed into his neck. Her breasts, unbound, snuggled against his chest; her thighs brushed his.

Stunned, they both froze.

Fingers of fire raced through Kaitlin. He was hard and strong, muscles everywhere. He smelled like leather and soap.

Slowly, she lifted her face. His breath was hot on her cheeks, his eyes piercing. Kaitlin’s knees weakened. Afraid she’d fall, she shifted. The thick ridge beneath his fly settled intimately against her.

Her senses reeled. Her whole body tingled. Heat rolled off him in waves. She saw the quick intake of his breath, felt his muscles tense. She knew she should pull away, but couldn’t.

He pushed her away, gently, and stalked across the room. Kaitlin gulped and closed the sash of her wrapper with trembling hands.

He stood with his back to her for a moment, then turned and stepped behind the rocking chair in the corner. He pulled his hat lower on his forehead.

“Just give me what I came here for, lady, and I’ll go.

His voice was softer now, unsteady. Kaitlin didn’t trust herself to say anything, so she smoothed down her wrapper, reaching for a modicum of dignity.

Finally, she lifted her chin. “Everything Harvey Stutz had belongs to me, Mr. Callihan.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’re in on his con games?”

“No!” Her back stiffened. “I most certainly am not. My name is Kaitlin Jeffers. I have an honest job and I come from a respectable family. I had nothing to do with Harvey Stutz, except to get everything I owned stolen by him. But I have it back now—part of it, at least.”

“That’s a lie. What you got from the sheriff belongs to me.”

“Oh?” She tossed her head.

“Where’s that sack the sheriff gave you?”

Tension coiled in Kaitlin’s stomach, and she knew she’d be wise to be scared of this man. But he could have hurt her already, and hadn’t. She’d felt the power he possessed. His touch was gentle; he was a man used to tempering his anger.

She pulled in a breath. “Those things are none of your business.”

He pointed to the bureau. “I’ll tear this place apart to find it, if I have to.”

She knew he was capable of doing just that. Still, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. Kaitlin planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not giving you anything.”

“It belongs to me.”

“It’s mine. And you can’t prove any different.”

He advanced on her. “Yeah? It belongs to you? Then what’s the inscription on the back of the locket?”

“Inscription?” Kaitlin shifted. There was an inscription on the locket? She hadn’t even taken time to look it over. “Well…”

“It says, ‘To my darling with all my love.’“ Tripp held out his palm. “Hand it over, Miss Jeffers.”

Obviously, the locket belonged to him. Darn. It would have fetched a good price. As much as she hated to see it go, it was only right.

For a moment she felt a kinship with Mr. Tripp Callihan, both taken advantage of by Harvey Stutz. Briefly she wondered what else the con man had taken from him, but doubted Tripp was the kind of man to divulge that.

Kaitlin opened the top drawer of the bureau and kept her back to him as she dug beneath her clothing. She glanced over her shoulder. “I had nothing to do with stealing this.”

He snorted his disbelief.

Kaitlin pulled the gold locket from the sack and turned it over in her hand. On the back was the inscription, just as Tripp had said.

She shrugged. “I guess it does belong to you.”

He snatched it from her hand and dropped it in his shirt pocket. “Now I want what else is mine.”

“But—”

Tripp jerked the sack from her hand.

“Hey! Give me that!”

She lunged for it, but he held it out of her reach, easily fending off her grabbing hands. He was so tall, so strong, she had no chance.

“Listen, Mr. Callihan. Let me explain.” Kaitlin drew in a deep breath. “Harvey Stutz stole my life savings—every cent of it. I’m just trying to get it back.”

“By pretending to be his widow—his pregnant widow?” He shook his head in disgust.

“Well, it worked. Or would have, if it hadn’t been for you.”

“Stutz stole from me, too.”

“Your life savings?”

He looked away. “Something like that.”

“You can have your locket. But the sheriff already said everything else belongs to me.”

“You want to get the sheriff involved again?” Tripp’s eyebrows drew together. “Fine. Let’s find out what he has to say when he sees you like this. Maybe you can explain exactly where your baby went.”

“You’re not exactly his favorite person either, Mr. Callihan.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“And what if Sheriff Newell decides not to give it to either of us? He threatened to give it to the church once already, remember? Both of us could end up with nothing.”

“Dammit…” Tripp walked across the room and stared through the window at the street below. “I didn’t wait all this time, and come all this way, to end up with nothing.”

Kaitlin didn’t say anything, just studied his profile outlined in the window. He looked grim.

Finally, he turned to her. “All right. We split everything fifty-fifty. Deal?”

“Fifty-fifty? No, I was thinking more like—”

“You’d rather I let the sheriff settle this?”

She huffed impatiently. There really was nothing she could do. At least this way she’d end up with something.

“All right. We’ll sell the business and split it down the middle. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Tripp strode across the room and opened the door. “We’ll head over to Porter at first light. Be ready.”

“Wait.” She braced her hand against the door. “How do I know you’ll be here in the morning? How do I know you won’t take off with the money and the deed?”

Tripp held up the sack. “You’ll have to trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.”

He looked down at her belly. “At least I didn’t start off with a lie.”

Tripp left the room and slammed the door behind him.

Dawn’s first rays of light seeped over the horizon as Tripp dropped his satchel beside the front desk in the hotel lobby. A circular red velvet couch stood in the center of the room beneath an ornate chandelier. At the desk along the back wall, a man scrawled his name on the registration book while the clerk searched the cubby holes for a room key.

Tripp paused in the doorway of the hotel dining room, looking over the few customers already seated there. A couple of men wearing cravats and jackets, an old man with a dusty beard, a family with three wiggly children. An odd sense of disappointment crept over Tripp. No sign of Kaitlin Jeffers.

That proved it, he decided. She was a crook, just like Harvey Stutz. Probably hightailed it out of town during the night, fearing he’d go to the sheriff after all.

Tripp wound his way through the white-linencovered tables, ignoring the murmured conversations around him, and took a seat along the back wall. He hadn’t expected any different. Hadn’t he learned a long time ago how women act when things got tough?

Tripp tossed his black hat on the chair beside him and scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d hardly slept a wink last night. Worries, then dreams, kept him awake until nearly dawn. The worries he was used to. But the dreams—he hadn’t had dreams like that since he was a kid.

He shifted in. his chair as a familiar stirring claimed him, then looked around the room for a distraction from his own thoughts.

A woman stepped into the doorway of the dining room. Tripp drew in a sharp breath. God, she was the prettiest thing he’d seen in a month of Sundays, all done up in a green skirt with a matching print overskirt, and a blouse that hugged her breasts and outlined her trim waist. A green hat sat at a saucy angle among her dark curling hair.

Pressure behind his fly increased considerably as he watched her hips sway across the dining room. She took a seat at the corner table facing the wall, her back to the door.

A sweet scent wafted over him. Tripp reeled back in his chair. Good God, it was Kaitlin Jeffers.

What had happened to her? Brown eyes, so dark they reflected the light from the window, darted quickly around the room. Her oval face shone with full lips, soft delicate features, and porcelain skin. Why hadn’t he noticed those things last night?

Or maybe he had. Images that had frolicked in his dreams last night came back to him now with the same urgency.

Tripp turned his attention to two old men seating themselves at the table next to him, and listened to their conversation. He sure as hell needed something to occupy his attention. But his gaze drifted back to Kaitlin.

She looked all delicate and soft, tugging off her lace gloves, smoothing down her skirt, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. Womanly movements, feminine and artful, without trying to be. Tripp’s chest tightened.

She glanced at him, then looked away quickly.

“Miss Jeffers?” The words slipped from his lips before he realized it.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then looked away once more.

He knew damn good and well she’d seen him.

“Miss Jeffers?”

Kaitlin turned to him, her lips pursed, her brows furrowed. “Shh! Not so loud. I’m trying to be inconspicuous.”

How in the name of heaven did a woman as pretty as her think she could be inconspicuous in a little town like this?

“Look, Miss Jeffers—”

Her eyes bulged, silencing him, and she waved him over.

Slowly he walked to her little table in the corner, holding his hat in front of him.

Kaitlin huffed impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, sit down. You’ll have everybody in the room staring at me.”

Tripp lowered himself into the chair across from her. “Somebody you’re trying to avoid, Miss Jeffers?”

“As you so delicately pointed out last night, Mr. Callihan, it wouldn’t do me any good to be seen by Sheriff Newell in my…condition.”

“Or lack of it.”

“Exactly.”

Tripp pulled on his chin. “I figured you’d left town.”

“As if you should be so lucky.” Kaitlin smiled sweetly at him. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Mr. Callihan, until our business is settled.”

The serving girl stopped at their table and filled their cups with hot coffee.

“Give me steak and eggs with lots of potatoes and some biscuits.” Tripp gestured across the table. “Same for her.”

“Coming right up.” The serving girl smiled and left.

Tripp sipped his coffee. “So you’re still agreeable with the deal we made last night?”

“No, I’m not agreeable at all. I’d much prefer keeping everything for myself. But since half is the best I can do, I’ll settle for that.”

“I guess we might as well get down to business.” Tripp reached beneath his vest and pulled a small tablet from the pocket of his white shirt. He studied it for a moment. “I figure it’ll take us two hours to get to Porter this morning, about a half hour to find the place and look it over, then another hour to get it listed for sale.”

Kaitlin peered across the table. “You wrote that down?”

He flipped over to the next page. “Once the place is sold, we’ll meet, sign the papers, and divide up the profit. Any questions?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s so complicated, I’m not sure I follow you.”

“We’ll take the deed to the bank and transfer it to both our names—just to be safe.”

She tilted her head. “You don’t trust me?”

He dropped his forearm on the table. “Look, Miss Jeffers, the sooner we get this over with, the better. I haven’t got time to fool around.”

“Nor have I, Mr. Callihan.” Kaitlin pushed her chin higher. “In fact, thanks to Harvey Stutz, I’ve had to change my plans considerably.”

He glared at her, then drank his coffee. He didn’t pursue her comment, didn’t really want to know what Harvey Stutz had done to her. Tripp couldn’t muster his compassion for another of the man’s victims; it just didn’t stretch that far.

The serving girl brought them plates of hot food.

Kaitlin wagged her finger at his pad of paper as she ate. “Do you have written down somewhere the kind of property we own?”

“A store.” He waved his fork toward her plate. “Eat your potatoes.”

She sat up straighter. “A store? Really?”

“Finish your meal. We’ve got to go.”

Tripp turned his attention to his plate, hoping to discourage any more conversation. The sooner he got this over with—and this woman out of his life—the better.

He paid for their meals, then followed Kaitlin’s bobbing bustle to the lobby. Tripp pulled his tablet from his shirt pocket, forcing himself to look at the notes he’d made.

“I checked the stage schedule last night. Nothing going to Porter until this afternoon. I’ll rent us a buggy down at the livery and pick you up out front in a few minutes.”

“I’ll meet you out back,” Kaitlin said.

Tripp shook his head in disgust. “If you hadn’t told a lie in the first place you wouldn’t have to hide from the sheriff.”

“Thank you so much for that pearl of wisdom, Mr. Callihan.” Kaitlin jerked up her carpetbag from beside the front desk and marched toward the back of the hotel.

* * *

The streets of Porter were quiet with a wagon or two lumbering along when Tripp and Kaitlin drove into town. A few men gathered outside the barber shop, cowboys and miners moseyed along, women and children moved down Main Street.

At the far edge of town Tripp halted the team at the blacksmith shop. The big double doors stood open; horses waited patiently in the corral.

Tripp set the brake and jumped to the ground. He strode away from the buggy drawing in deep breaths of hay, horses, and dust. Riding next to Kaitlin Jeffers, breathing in her sweetness for two solid hours had been torture. He wished he’d waited for the stage coach.

“Morning!” A tall, muscular, man around thirty years old walked out of the stable, smiling and pushing his blond hair off his forehead. “Name’s Rafe Beaumont. What can I help you with?”

“My horses need tending.” Tripp waved toward the team; he’d driven them harder than he should have, thanks to Kaitlin Jeffers’s scent.

Rafe stroked one of the horses’s thick neck and nodded toward Kaitlin. “You and the wife plan to be in town long?”

Kaitlin came to her feet. “We are not married.”

Rafe glanced back and forth between them and his cheeks turned red. “Oh…”

“We’re business partners,” she said.

“Oh!” Rafe looked relieved. “What sort of business?”

“Maybe you can help us with that.” Kaitlin gathered her skirts and turned to climb down from the buggy.

Tripp hurried over. “Hold on. Do you want to fall? You need to be more careful.” He caught her waist and lifted her to the ground.

Kaitlin shrugged out of his grasp. “We’re looking for a store, Mr. Beaumont.”

“Got a few of those in town.” Rafe smiled and patted the horse’s forehead.

“This one’s called Finch Dry Goods. Used to be owned by an Everette Finch.” Tripp nodded toward town. “Didn’t see it when we drove in.”

Rafe’s eyes widened. “You two bought Finch’s place?”

Tripp and Kaitlin glanced at each other.

“Let’s just say it’s ours now,” Tripp said.

“I can tell you how to find the place, but—”

“Rafe, why don’t you take them over there yourself?”

Two men walked out of the stable, grinning broadly. Like Rafe, they were tall, muscular and blond.

One of them slapped him on the back. “Yeah, Rafe, take these nice folks over to the Finch place.”

Rafe blushed and ducked his head. “These are my brothers, Ned and Wade.”

Greetings were exchanged and proper introductions made.

“So you’re the new owner of old man Finch’s place?” Wade asked. “Well, all I can say is good luck to you.”

Ned chucked Rafe on the shoulder, grinning. “Take them over there. Show them the store.”

Rafe shifted uncomfortably. “I got work to do here.”

“Ned and I will look after the place.” Wade elbowed him in the ribs. “And if you’re a little late getting back, we’ll understand.”

Ned and Wade both broke out laughing, bringing another blush to Rafe’s face.

Rafe grumbled under his breath. “All right. Let’s go.”

The late morning sun warmed the breeze as they walked the short distance to town. The men’s boots echoed on the wooden planks of the boardwalk drowning out the scuff of Kaitlin’s shoes as she walked between the two of them.

“Have you lived here long, Mr. Beaumont?” Kaitlin asked.

“Just call me Rafe. My family’s lived here a while. I took over the livery after our pa passed on.”. He gestured toward the street. “Yeah, Porter is a nice place, all right. Quiet. Not much going on. Your store’s right up here.”

Kaitlin’s heart thumped in her chest. Visions of her recaptured dream filled her mind.

Rafe flung out his hand. “Well, this is it.”

Kaitlin’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

Dust covered the boardwalk in front of the store. Dirt streaked the display windows beside the door, and several panes were broken. The shade over the windowed door hung askew.

Rafe shrugged apologetically. “I guess it doesn’t look like much on the outside.”

Her spirits lifted. “It’s better on the inside?”

“Well…no,” Rafe said. “Still want to look around?”

Kaitlin squared her shoulders. “Yes.”

Rafe pushed open the door. Cobwebs clung to the corners. Barren shelves dangled from the walls. A potbellied stove lay on its side. Gray ashes swirled in the slight breeze.

“It’s been empty for a while. Kids got in and tore it up,” Rafe said. “I guess it’s not what you expected.”

Kaitlin looked around. “No, not exactly.”

Tripp gazed down at her. “I don’t know what your dream was, Kaitlin, but you can kiss it goodbye.”