A Worthy Pursuit (36 page)

By the time Charlotte reached the Sunny South Boarding House, she finally had her emotions back under control, though her concern for Stone and Lily still ran close to the surface. She had spent the majority of the carriage ride in prayer for their safety and was determined to leave their care in God’s capable hands, yet her hard-won peace felt as fragile as a dew-drenched spider’s web.

She thanked the driver then headed up the steps and into the boarding house parlor. A young woman who’d been sitting on the sofa near the hearth jumped to her feet. “Is it done, then?”

Charlotte smiled at Belinda Ashe, completely sympathetic to the worry etched along her brow. “The first step is finished,” she said with a nod. “Your husband should be along shortly.”

Belinda’s petite shoulders relaxed. “Thank heaven.” She shook her head at herself. “I don’t know why I worked myself up into such a state. Robert’s been on much more dangerous missions than this with the Rangers. It’s just that this was the first time since his injury, and I worried . . . well . . . it seems foolish now.”

Charlotte crossed the room and clasped the woman’s hand. “It’s natural to be concerned for a loved one’s safety. Even if that loved one is a highly trained Texas Ranger. It simply means you care.”

“Do you worry for Mr. Hammond?” Belinda asked, peering at her with a look that was far too perceptive.

Charlotte squirmed slightly, her borrowed mourning dress suddenly feeling a touch too tight. “Of course,” she admitted, ducking her head. “He is risking much to help us. But it is Lily’s safety that weighs heaviest on my heart. Leaving her in that house was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“My Robert will look after her,” Belinda stated emphatically,
squeezing Charlotte’s hand. “No harm will come to her on his watch.”

“Lindy’s right, as usual.” A masculine voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Robert!” Belinda squealed, dropped Charlotte’s hand, and ran to her husband. He swept her up in an embrace so strong it took her feet from the floor.

“You haven’t been sitting in the parlor frettin’ all morning, have you?” Robert Ashe set his wife on her feet and gently tweaked her nose. “A less confident man might find such a thing insulting.”

“Confident?” Belinda made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Arrogant, more like. Sometimes I’d swear that limp of yours exists solely to increase your swagger.”

Charlotte looked away from the pair. Despite their playful banter, she could sense the true affection they shared. It exuded from their hidden glances, from the way she looked him over to assure herself he was hale and whole, the way he couldn’t seem to stop touching her—the finger skating down the slope of her nose, the hand to her back, his leg brushing her skirt. It stirred a troublesome longing in her heart and pictures of Stone in her mind.

“I have the ledger,” she blurted, needing to do something to escape the uncomfortable feelings welling inside her. She stepped toward Ashe and pulled the small book from her skirt pocket, careful not to disturb the single page that sat deeper within.

Ashe moved to meet her, his limp slightly more pronounced after the morning’s activities than she remembered from the previous night. He collected the book and tucked it into a pocket inside his coat. “I’ll take it to the Ranger office and have it locked in the safe. Then I’ll return to Dorchester Hall to stand guard.”

“Not before you eat something,” his wife countermanded.
“I won’t have you collapsing from hunger because you were too stubborn to spare five minutes for a sandwich. I’ll see if the cook has any ham left over from breakfast.” She spun out of the room before he could argue, presumably heading to the kitchen.

Ashe rolled his eyes at his retreating wife, but the smile on his face spoke only of love. “The woman can’t stop tending me. Thinks I’m still her patient.”

“Let her fuss,” Charlotte said softly. “It’s her way of showing she cares.”

Ashe sighed. “I know. That’s why I’ll eat whatever she puts in front of me.” He winked at Charlotte. “Wouldn’t want to wound her tender feelings.”

Because
he
cared. It was lovely to behold, Charlotte had to admit. Two people so obviously in love. She prayed it would last, that they would grow old together—Belinda still bringing him sandwiches and fussing over his scrapes, Robert still playing along.

What would she and Stone look like if they married? Would they still take sunset walks? Would she play Beethoven’s “Moonlight” for him on their anniversary? The image of them sitting in matching rockers on the porch of her home back in Madisonville, holding hands and laughing over the antics of the children scampering about the place rose unbidden, the image so powerful her chest actually ached at the picture it made.

“I-I’m going up to my room to change,” she said by way of excuse as she swept past Robert. This was not the time for dreams. Lily sat in a room in Dorchester’s house, waiting to be rescued. Charlotte’s dreams could be examined later, when her family was whole again.

Besides, she couldn’t breathe right in this stiff mourning gown. She needed her gored skirt and comfortable shirtwaist. And her mother’s cameo. Her fingers lifted to the place at the
base of her neck where the brooch usually rested. She’d feel more herself when she was dressed in her usual attire, more like Lily’s teacher. No—her
mother
. She smiled at the thought as she maneuvered up the stairs to her room.

But after she had washed and changed, thoughts of Stone continued to intrude. Every time she thought of Lily, her mind also drifted to Stone, the child’s protector. And every time her mind drifted to Stone, a dark feeling settled over her, one that felt less like idle worry and more like foreboding.

36

Stone gripped Charlotte’s hand in the night as they crept through the hickory trees to reach the side of Dorchester Hall. She’d put the dreary mourning dress back on in order to better conceal herself in the darkness, but her face was pale enough to reflect the half moon’s glow.

He signaled silently to Ashe with a few quick hand gestures. The man nodded and split off from their little group to climb the tree that would take him back up to the second-story veranda. Stone would follow. But not until he made sure Charlotte was all right.

“Stay behind the trees,” he whispered, wishing not for the first time that he had forced her to remain behind with Belinda at the boarding house. Unfortunately, he’d given his word that she could be a full partner in this endeavor, and he wouldn’t break a promise to her. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to keep her out of the fray.

“No matter what you hear or think you see, you stay put. Understand?” He glared the command at her. “I’ll have your word on it, Charlotte. I can’t afford to be distracted by my
concern for you.” He added one final statement, guaranteed to garner her cooperation. “Lily’s welfare might very well depend upon my ability to focus.”

“It’s
your
welfare that has me concerned, not Lily’s. Dorchester needs her alive, and she’s tucked away in her bedroom. Ashe confirmed as much when we arrived.
You’re
the one who’ll be threatening Dorchester. And if Franklin’s still around, you might be battling two instead of one.” She reached out and clasped his forearm with her free hand, her long, slender fingers digging almost painfully into his skin through the fabric of his dark shirt. “I’ve seen the way Franklin looks at you, Stone. Jealousy. Loathing. He’s played second fiddle to you for too long. It won’t take much to tempt him into ridding himself of his competition.”

Stunned by her pronouncement, Stone could only stare at the woman before him. She was more concerned for
him
than for Lily? That couldn’t be right. Yet the earnest way her blue-green eyes peered up at him and the grip she had on his arm shattered his denial.

Love surged through his core, strong and unconquerable. And with a single motion, he yanked Charlotte up against his chest and claimed her mouth in a deep, short kiss. Tearing his mouth away from hers before she could tempt him into forgetting his mission, he clutched her fingers tightly within his fist.

“Promise me you’ll stay in the trees no matter what happens,” he demanded in a harsh whisper.

She nodded, her gaze never leaving his. Satisfied, he extricated himself from her hold and stepped away.

“I love you, Lottie.”

Moisture glistened in her beautiful eyes, but then her lashes lowered and he took that as his cue to go. A soft sigh whispered
on the breeze behind him as he grabbed a lower limb and swung himself up into the tree—a sigh that almost sounded like
I love you, too
but was surely just a gentle rustle of leaves.

Closing off his heart in order to focus his mind, Stone narrowed his eyes and tautened his muscles. Time to take care of business.

By the time he reached the veranda, Ashe already had the window to Lily’s room propped open and one leg over the ledge.

“Took you long enough.” Ashe smirked. “Thought you might’ve gotten stuck in the tree.”

Stone crossed the balcony on silent feet then grabbed the man’s head, bent it down, and shoved him through the open window. Ashe tucked and rolled, bouncing back to his feet in a silent blur even as he glared at his partner.

Stone shrugged. “Sorry. I thought you’d gotten yourself stuck in the window.”

The two men shared a muffled chuckle as Stone stretched a long leg over the sill and ducked into the room. His gaze immediately went to the bed and the small shape under the covers.

Lily lay curled on her side, one hand beneath her cheek. A tiny ruffle of a snore slipped through her parted lips as she slept peacefully on while two intruders infiltrated her bedroom. Such innocence. Such trust. It only solidified Stone’s resolve to bend Dorchester to his will, to guard Lily’s future and preserve her innocence.

He moved to her side and lowered himself to the edge of the mattress. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle shake. “Wake up, squirt. Time to go.”

She groaned and rolled to her back, her eyelids slowly lifting. “Stone?”

He smiled. “Yep. I need you to get up and get dressed, all
right? We’ll be leaving as soon as I have a little chat with your grandfather.”

Her eyes, now wide, blinked up at him. “You’re going to tell him to let me stay with Miss Lottie, aren’t you?” Her gaze flitted briefly to the guns he wore then back to his face.

“That I am, squirt.” Not wanting to answer any more questions for fear of the answers he might have to give, Stone patted her shoulder a final time then removed himself from the bed.

“Stay by her side,” he murmured to Ashe as he strode to meet him by the door.

His friend nodded. “I will.” Ashe slowly tuned the knob. Pulling the door back a few inches, he glanced out into the hall. “Looks clear.” He turned back to Stone and gave him a hard-eyed stare all men in their line of work understood but never spoke aloud.
Be on your guard.

Stone held Ashe’s gaze for a moment then slipped through the door and into the hall. Hugging the shadows of the wall, he stole along the rear hall, turned left, then halted in front of the corner room. The master suite.

Checking behind him a final time to make sure no servants had stirred, he drew the pistol from his right holster, held it at the ready, then silently let himself into the room and closed the door behind him. Wouldn’t want anyone disturbing them, after all.

Little light penetrated the room. Dark outlines of black on gray depicted a sitting area to the right of the door. Stone moved cautiously around it, his attention focused on the large four-poster bed deeper in the room. Stealthily, he crept forward, softening his footfalls.

Dorchester never moved. Not until Stone pressed the cool metal of his pistol’s barrel into the man’s temple and cocked
the weapon. The gentle click echoed through the room like cannon fire. Dorchester’s eyes flew open.

Without turning his head, Dorchester angled his eyes to the right. “Hammond!” he rasped. “W-what are you doing here?” He swallowed, his throat working up and down. “We concluded our business earlier today, did we not?”

“That we did. Your payment was much appreciated.” Stone had made sure to cash the bank draft that afternoon.

“Then why the devil are you in my room holding a gun to my head?” The man had found his backbone, it seemed. His voice spat indignation.

Stone pressed the pistol a little harder against Dorchester’s head. No use letting him forget who was in charge. When the covers trembled a touch, Stone grinned. “I’ve got a new deal to broker. One I believe will be mutually beneficial.”

“I’ll have you hanged for this, Hammond,” Dorchester blustered, though Stone was wise enough to recognize the threat wasn’t completely idle. A man as rich and powerful as Randolph Dorchester had ways of getting things done. Especially when he had influence over key officials. It hadn’t escaped Stone’s notice earlier today that several of the names included in Dorchester’s ledgers belonged to state judges and prosecutors.

“We’ll see.” Keeping his gun hand steady, Stone reached for his insurance. He pulled it from his trouser pocket and shook out the folds in front of Dorchester’s face. “Recognize this?”

“Recognize what?” the man grumbled. “It’s the middle of the night and dark as a cave in here. If you want me to look at this paper you’re waving in front of my nose, you’re gonna have to let me light the lamp.”

Stone nodded but jerked the paper back. He wasn’t letting it anywhere near a match. His gun trained on Dorchester, Stone backed up a step. He checked the bedside table drawer and
found a Colt .32 pocket pistol, which he quickly confiscated and tucked into his waistband.

“Light your lamp, Dorchester.”

The man scowled up at Stone, obviously disgruntled that he’d been thwarted. Nevertheless, he removed the chimney of the fancy brass lamp on the table, turned up the wick, and struck a match. Dorchester shot nervous glances back at Stone throughout the process, his eyes constantly straying to the pistol now pointed at his chest, his hand shaking as he lit the wick. Once he had the lamp adjusted and the chimney back in place, he propped his back against the headboard and glared at Stone, one hand outstretched.