Banner O'Brien (23 page)

“Kindly stop giving me guff.”

Banner thrust out her chin and gauged her chances of getting around the massive barrier of this man’s body and escaping. They weren’t good.

“When Adam finds out that you made me stay here, he’ll thrash you!”

Jeff laughed. “He’ll thank me. You’re the one he’s going to be mad at.”

“Please, Jeff.”

He turned away, his hand on the door knob. “Get some rest, Mrs. Corbin. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Jeff paused, tilted his head in her direction. “One of my crewmen will be outside, in the hallway, so don’t try to leave.”

Beaten, Banner lowered her head. She flinched as the door closed and the key turned in the lock.

*  *  *

The messenger hailed Adam as he came out of the courthouse. “I’ve got a telegraph letter for you, Doc!”

Adam grasped the message, his hands trembled slightly as he ripped away the envelope. Please, he thought wildly. Please.

The words printed on that weather-dampened bit of paper made his heart leap within him: “Banner here with me, in Seattle. Capitol Hotel. Bring her across? Jeff.”

Adam laughed, dizzy with relief, and handed the messenger a five-dollar gold piece.

“Wanna send an answer?” asked the boy, staring at the coin in his mittened palm.

Adam dictated a brief reply and ran to his buggy.

*  *  *

Stoically, Banner Corbin stripped off her wet clothes and hung them over a screen that stood in front of a small, ornate ivory fireplace. Then, after commandeering one of Jeff’s shirts for a wrapper, she went into the bathing room and began filling the tub.

As she removed the shirt and stepped into the water, she remarked to herself that the Corbins certainly traveled in style. There wasn’t even a boiler affixed to this tub, at least, not one that she could see, and yet the water flowed hot from the spigot.

The bath was comforting; Banner had not realized how cold and tired she was until she settled in to soak.

When the water grew tepid, she got out, dried herself with a soft towel that smelled of naphtha, and drained the tub. Moments later, crawling between cozy flannel sheets, Banner yawned and thought that, if a person was bound to be held prisoner, there were certainly worse places for it.

*  *  *

Jeff laid the key on the bar and grinned. “Number seven,” he said.

Adam lifted his glass in a weary, wry salute. “Thank you. Is she all right, Jeff? Where did you find her?”

“One question at a time, brother. Banner is fine, and I found her on the wharf, sitting on a barrel and looking like an abandoned urchin. It took me half an hour to get her to tell me why she’d left you, and even then she wouldn’t say much more than ‘he beat me’ and ‘he has a woman.’”

Adam took up the room key, dropped it into his pocket. “I didn’t beat her, and I don’t have a woman.” He paused, took a sip from his whiskey, and then explained about Sean Malloy and Banner’s reasons for fearing the man.

“Good God,” Jeff breathed when his brother was finished. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t be with Banner every minute—it just isn’t possible. The only sane thing to do is send her away somewhere, until Malloy moves on. The trouble is, ever since I woke up this morning and found her gone, I’ve felt as though somebody scraped my insides out with a blunt scalpel.”

Jeff nodded. His eyes were musing, and a grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “There is one other solution. It’s a little unethical, but what the hell?”

“What—”

Jeff chuckled, gave his brother’s shoulder an affectionate slap. “Just go upstairs to your wife, big brother. I’m setting sail for Port Hastings.”

Chapter Ten

F
RANCELLE’S FATHER LOOKED POMPOUS AND BLUSTERY,
as usual. Banner was subdued, staring into her wineglass as though she expected a banshee to rise out of it, and Adam seemed restless, irritable.

Jeff grinned and turned his attention to his dinner.

“It’s a shame, that’s what it is!” barked Senator Mayhugh, who never missed a chance to run his mouth.

“You’re speaking of the decision about suffrage, I hope,” put in Katherine, softly venomous.

“That, too,” conceded the senator, reddening.

“Papa’s upset about the crimping,” Francelle chimed. “We were talking about it on our way over here tonight. Think of it—men being
shanghaied,
in this day and age!”

Jeff watched in wry silence as Adam’s head shot up. Blue eyes met blue eyes, and the air seemed to crackle.

“You’re a man of the sea, Jeff,” boomed Mayhugh. “What do you think of the practice?”

“Crimping?” Jeff fought down the wide grin that was tugging at both sides of his mouth. “Terrible thing, just terrible.”

Adam stiffened, frowned thoughtfully. “When do you sail—captain?”

“Midnight,” answered Jeff, with a lift of his glass.

*  *  *

“Where is Malloy?” Adam demanded, his eyes boring into his brother’s broad back.

Jeff turned from the liquor cabinet in the cabin of the
Sea Mistress,
a brandy snifter in his hand. “In the hold,” he answered.

“Son of a—”

Jeff glared. “Gratitude is a wonderful thing,” he remarked.

“Gratitude! Do you realize that you could go to prison for this? Suppose the revenue people decide to examine your cargo?”

“It’s all legal. No Chinese nationals, no Canadian rum, no contraband of any kind.”

“Except for Sean Malloy.”

Jeff grinned, lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “The chloral hydrate won’t wear off for at least twelve hours. If we sight a cutter, I’ll have the bastard dumped in a bunk and tell the inspectors that he had himself a fine time on Water Street before we sailed.” He paused. “He did, as a matter of fact. Went straight there after he got out of jail.”

“And your men picked him up.”

Jeff raised his glass and grinned again. “If I’d known it was this easy, I might have turned to a life of crime years ago.”

Adam laughed, in spite of himself, but he saw the ache behind his brother’s mirth and knew it for what it
was. “You’ll let me know when Malloy jumps ship?”

“I don’t plan to grant him shore leave in the near future, but if he gets away, I’ll send you a wire.”

Adam went to the door, looked back over his shoulder. “Jeff?”

“Yo.”

“Take care, all right?”

“You, too. And look after Banner.”

Adam nodded. There was more to say—so much more—but he didn’t know how to begin, so he stepped out of his brother’s cabin and into the gangway leading to the deck.

As he closed the door, Adam heard Jeff’s brandy snifter shatter against a wall.

*  *  *

Katherine Corbin watched surreptitously, and with no little amusement, as her daughter-in-law sat down on the edge of the bed and winced.

“Was Adam angry, Banner?”

Banner looked up, nodded. A revealing blush rose from just above her bodice to, pulse in her face. “He was very angry,” she replied.

Katherine could well envision the scenario that must have taken place in that Seattle hotel room. She’d been through a dozen like it, with Daniel, though the circumstances had been different.

Daniel.
Lord, just the thought of him made her heart contract, even after these five years without him. He had died, but Katherine’s love for him had not.

“I should have warned you,” she said, sitting down beside Banner, on the bed, and patting her hand. “The Corbin men have been spanking their women for centuries. Unforgivable as it is, they go right on doing it.”

The lovely green eyes widened. “What makes me the maddest,” Banner confided, in bemused tones, “is that
I still love Adam. What’s the matter with me? Am I deranged? Perverse?”

Katherine laughed. “If you are, I was too. Once, Daniel and I had a terrible argument—Adam and Jeff were just babies then—and I put every stitch of clothing that man owned in the middle of the road and lit a match to it all!”

Banner’s eyes were the size of saucers. “What happened then?”

Katherine giggled at the memory. “The blaze could be seen from Mt. Rainier, I’m sure!” she said. “And Daniel was in a fine rage, I’ll tell you that. I’ll never forget the way he stomped on his Sunday shirt, trying to put out the flames!”

“Weren’t you frightened?”

“Frightened?”
Katherine laughed again. “Banner, I was terrified! But I didn’t want him to know that, so I made matters worse by shouting out that I meant to take the boys and leave him forever.”

“What did he do?”

“Mercy,” breathed Katherine, shuddering to recollect it. “He came storming into that cabin, my Daniel, mad as sin. He threw up my skirts, pulled down my drawers, and blistered me. Maggie was passing by—bless her heart, she heard me screaming and thought the Indians were having their way with me. She rushed in with her husband’s shotgun and there I was with my face as red as my bottom. I wanted to fall through a crack in the floor.”

Banner giggled, and some of the confusion drained from her wonderful, tired eyes. “But you loved Daniel too much to leave him?”

“Yes. Truth to tell, the only real injury was to my pride, and when Daniel made love to me, I didn’t have any pride.”

Banner nodded, and there was a touching look of empathy about her. In hushed tones, she recounted the hotel episode.

The story was quite similar to Katherine’s.

*  *  *

Silver fire played over Banner’s breasts as Adam kissed one and gently fondled the other. It felt good—so good—to lie in his bed again, to feel the weight of his body on hers and be flung skyward by his insatiable loving.

She whimpered as he pinched one nipple into an obedient pout. “Did—you know that your father—used to—spank your mother?”

Adam chuckled, sampled the nubbin with a searing tongue. “I remember it well,” he said.

“It’s an—aberration—”

He took suckle, languidly, crooning as she rose to him. “Terrible, terrible—I’ll try to—break the habit.”

Banner thrust him away suddenly, powerful in her fury. “You’ll have to do more than
try,
Adam Corbin! I’m not a child and I won’t let you treat me as though I were!”

He considered her seriously. “All right, O’Brien,” he said, at last. “You’re an adult, and a doctor, and I’ll treat you accordingly. But I want something in return.”

“What?”

“A promise. Banner, if you really want to leave me, there isn’t much I can do to stop you. But don’t—please—don’t sneak off like that again. If you must go,
tell
me, for God’s sake. You can’t begin to imagine the things that went through my mind—until I got to the courthouse and made sure Malloy was still in his cell, I thought he might have taken you somehow.”

“I-I’m sorry, Adam. I thought you would know—when I left the ring and the drum—”

“I did, on one level. But on another I was scared. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.”

She traced the strong, taut line of his jaw with a tender finger. “There is still Sean. What are we going to do, Adam?”

“For the next few weeks—maybe months—he won’t be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been shanghaied.”

Banner gasped. “Jeff?”

“Jeff,” confirmed Adam, with a sigh. “Sometimes my brother takes a rather direct approach to a problem.”

Despite her misgivings and fears, Banner giggled. “He does, doesn’t he? It seems to be a family trait.”

Adam’s lips were back at her breasts, teasing, asserting a gentle dominance. “Speaking of direct approaches . . .”

“Ummm,” replied Banner.

*  *  *

Banner awakened in a merry mood. She and Adam had reached a new level of maturity in their union, it seemed to her, and for a time, at least, there was no danger of encountering Sean.

As she went down the back stairs, to get her morning coffee, Banner was congratulating herself on how perfect her life was, how wonderful.

And Maggie was scowling as she washed dishes at the sink. “That fool,” she muttered. “Damn, stupid, cussed
fool.”

Some instinct turned the lining of Banner’s stomach brittle. “Maggie, what is it?”

Maggie flung one stricken look at Banner and swallowed her diatribe. The motions of her arms were swift and fierce as she went back to scrubbing a skillet.

“Maggie,” insisted Banner.

“None of my business what Adam Corbin does,” fussed Maggie, her tone terse and cryptic.

Banner ached, and all her happiness wafted away like powder flung into a high wind. After all they’d said and shared, Adam had gone up the mountain again.

“I’m going to follow him,” decided his wife. “This time—”

But Maggie shook her head vigorously. “He’s been gone over an hour. And there are dozens of trails up that mountain—he could have taken any one of them.”

“You’re the one who said I should follow Adam the next time!”

“I wasn’t thinking,” retorted the housekeeper angrily. “There are wild animals up there, and wandering Indians. You wouldn’t be safe by yourself.”

“Wild animals!” Banner scoffed. “It’s winter. Bears hibernate in—”

“Ain’t just bears!” broke in Maggie. “There’s mountain lions, too. And bobcats.”

Banner wasn’t listening; she was trying to decide what clothes to wear and which horse to ask for at the stables. Adam had an hour’s start, but his team and wagon would leave tracks in the deep snow. Eventually, she would find him.

“Banner Corbin . . .” Maggie threatened when the younger woman turned and bounded back up the kitchen staircase.

Though it was but a hill when compared to the looming Cascades and craggy Olympics, that mountain was high. It was cold out, and there were strange sounds coming from the thick woods. Wrapped in woolen scarves and an old coat she’d found at the back of Adam’s wardrobe, Banner rode staunchly on.

The dappled gray mare she’d saddled herself was slow as it labored up the steep trail, nickering and tossing its head and stopping to nibble whenever there was a patch of grass peeking out of the snow.

Finding the trail had not been as easy as Banner had expected; there were tracks of every sort on the paths that scribbled up the mountains like veins. Once she’d had to turn around and backtrack more than a mile, realizing that the parallel lines she’d been following
were too close together to have been made by a wagon or even a buggy.