Love Inspired Historical July 2015 Box Set: The Marriage Agreement\Cowgirl for Keeps\The Lawman's Redemption\Captive on the High Seas (52 page)

Will shook his head. “Nothing. I was here trailing Ben, hoping to see if I could find out anything about his plans. I saw you and thought for a moment you might be Daisy, that's all.”

“When did you last see her?” Her posture had softened enough that he didn't think he was in danger of being shot anymore, but as long as she held the gun, he wasn't taking any chances.

“Why don't you put the gun down and then we can talk?”

“Fine.” She sat in a chair across from him and set the gun in her lap. “But don't think I won't shoot you. You wouldn't be my first.”

Hard. In all the places where Daisy was soft. Where Mary... Will pushed the thought of the other woman aside. She had no business sneaking into his brain now. Not when he was face-to-face with the reminder of why he wouldn't even consider getting involved with anyone connected to Ben Perry.

Will cleared his throat. “Now that we've got that out of the way, are you going to tell me your name?”

From this angle, the light hit her face in such a way that he could see the detail of her features better. In daylight, he'd have never mistaken her for Daisy.

“Melissa. But I'm known as Mad Mel.” She picked up the gun again and studied it. “Came by the name honestly, if you know what I mean.”

Mel looked up at him. “I believe you were telling me about when you last saw my sister.”

Will took a deep breath. If she truly was mad, then she wouldn't like his side of the story. Especially since she'd already made clear that Daisy would have never gotten involved with Ben.

“Last I saw her, she was getting on the back of a horse with Ben and riding out of Century City.”

A dark look crossed Mel's face. “He must've been forcing her. Why didn't you stop them?”

“Because I'd just been shot and lay bleeding in the middle of the street.” He declined to add the fact that Daisy was the one who'd shot him—on Ben's order. Out of habit, he rubbed the still-healing spot that had laid him up for weeks. Sometimes he could feel the bullet still burning a hole in his belly, even though the doc said he'd gotten it all.

“He pulled a gun on her, then?” The tone in Mel's voice was so hopeful that Will couldn't let her keep believing a lie. Maybe Daisy had been that person at one point in time, but that wasn't who she was anymore.

“No. She went willingly. Kissed him passionately before he helped her onto the horse.”

Oddly, that fact didn't sting the way he'd thought it would. He'd replayed the scene over and over in his mind while recuperating, thinking that she'd have been kinder to him had she just killed him outright. But she hadn't. She'd shot him and left him in a pool of his own blood, then kissed the man she'd once promised to help him bring down.

“Why would she do that?” Pain slashed across Mel's face, and Will almost felt bad for telling her the truth.

“I don't know,” he simply said. “I honestly don't.”

Mel must've believed him, because she stood, then put the gun back in the drawer she'd taken it from. “Daisy always said she hated him.”

“She'd told me the same thing.” And if he hadn't been shot, then seen her kissing Ben, he'd have still believed it.

Silence filled the room, and he looked around. The room was just as nice as what he'd been given at Rafferty's hotel, only made a little more like home with some personal items strewn about. Mel was clearly not some throwaway woman of the night.

Will walked to the bureau and picked up a framed portrait of two young girls. “This the two of you when you were younger?”

Mel stood and joined him, taking the frame out of his hands. “Before our father died, yes.”

It was easy enough to piece together the rest of the story on his own. Without anyone to care for them, Mel had adopted the world's oldest profession to provide for her younger sister. He looked at her, wishing he could do something about the tears in her eyes or the way she gripped the frame tightly.

“I did everything to give her a good life.” Mel returned his look with a mournful expression that made his gut wound ache even more. “Why would she take up with Ben Perry?”

Will would like to ask that question himself.
Why would she take up with Ben Perry?
Not just of Daisy, but of Mary, a sweet woman who spent her time working with a preacher and feeding down-and-out miners. How could such goodness be attracted to such evil?

“I wish I knew,” he said softly. “I'm sorry I couldn't give you better news of your sister. If I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

Then he turned toward Mel. “I still plan on taking down Ben Perry. I'd be obliged if you'd keep an ear out for me.”

“We'll see.” The hard expression had returned to her face. Mel wasn't likely to do anything that would jeopardize her chances of finding her sister. For Mel's sake, Will hoped Daisy wanted to be found.

He gave her a nod, then turned toward the door.

“Not that way,” Mel said, pointing to another door. “We're not supposed to bring men into the boardinghouse, so I need to take you back through the saloon. Alma will be furious if she finds out I had you in here.”

“Alma?”

“She owns the place. Thinks that if she gives us women of the night a good home we'll eventually see the light and repent of our sins. Alma means well, even if it'll never get her anywhere.”

Mel's frank assessment made Will sadder for Alma than he would have thought. The realities of the lives of women like Mel were not that they changed.

Yet he couldn't forget the wistful look in Mel's eyes as she talked about wanting a better life for Daisy. He had wanted a better life for Daisy. Stupidly, Will had thought he'd be able to provide it for her.

Perhaps he and Mel weren't so different after all.

A lightness he hadn't known since the shooting filled his heart. Yes, he'd loved Daisy, but for the first time it hit him that maybe it wasn't the romantic kind of love he wanted in a wife. Maybe it was the sister kind of love. Sure, he'd kissed Daisy, but most of them had been on the forehead. The couple of times he'd tried to kiss her on the lips, she'd turned her head, and he'd gotten her cheek instead. He'd already known that he was over her, but now maybe he could accept that he'd never truly loved her at all.

A knock sounded at the door. “Mel?” The whispered voice was urgent.

“It's okay, you can come in,” Mel called back. She glanced at Will. “Get behind the changing screen.”

He moved quickly, positioning himself to be out of view but able to see what was happening through a crack in the side. The woman who entered looked even younger than Daisy and was sporting a bleeding lip and what would probably be a bruised cheek in the morning.

“What happened?” Mel rushed to the woman and escorted her to one of the chairs.

“Ben said I sassed him, so he had Big Jim hit me.” Tears filled the girl's eyes. “I didn't mean to sass him, I promise. Ben said that I'd be all his last night, but he just got here, and the sun's almost up. When I asked him about it, he told Big Jim to take care of me.”

The girl's words brought a new fire to the hole in Will's gut. What kind of man asked another man to do his dirty work like that? Bad enough that he'd wanted to strike a woman, worse that he'd made someone else do it.

The woman's sobs strengthened Will's resolve. Someone had to take down Ben Perry. Not only were the banks not safe, but countless women were in danger, as well. It was as if Ben made them impervious to his misdeeds. To what a foul person he was.

Once again, his thoughts drifted to Mary Stone. Everything about her spoke of a kind and decent woman. But somehow, Ben had managed to trick her into thinking that...

That what? Was it really his job to save Mary from Ben? He'd tried with Daisy. If he'd just done his job and followed the evidence and arrested Ben, he'd have never been shot. Never let Ben get away. But no, he'd thought Daisy had needed rescuing.

He glanced back over at the woman Mel consoled. She was putting some kind of poultice on the woman's injuries.

“Thank you, Mel. I just hope it doesn't show too badly so Ben doesn't send me away. I'm sure if I tell him I'm sorry, things will be fine.”

Will looked away, but not before catching the warning look on Mel's face.

No, he wouldn't be saving anyone. At least not here. But if someone didn't do something about Ben Perry, and get him in jail where he belonged, there'd be more women like Daisy, like this woman before him and, God help him, like Mary Stone, who'd fall victim.

He'd just have to find a way to do it and not let himself get entangled with Mary. No matter how often her image popped into his thoughts.

Chapter Four

T
his time, when Mary went on her errands, she brought Polly with her. Rose still wasn't speaking to her, but perhaps that was for the best. Mary wasn't sure she had any energy left to defend her position while keeping her secrets.

“Can we finally talk about Ben?” Polly's eyes glimmered in the early-morning sunlight, perfectly matching the blue sprigged muslin dress she wore.

Mary let out a long sigh, wishing she felt half the energy her friend appeared to have as she swung the basket of goods Maddie had given them to deliver.

“Ben was a youthful—” well, there was only way to put it “—indiscretion.” Trite as it sounded, it was the only fair way to describe things without revealing the whole truth.

“I thought I loved him, but once I found out his true character, I knew he wasn't the man for me.” Mary looked at her friend, hoping to convey the full depth of her lack of feelings for Ben. “But he doesn't seem to understand that.”

They passed by a pawnshop, and Mary couldn't help but notice a brooch displayed in the window. Not her aunt's, but enough to remind her of Ben's threats. How was she going to fully extricate herself without being implicated in Ben's evildoings?

“Could you have played a role in the change of Ben's character?” Polly gave her a long look. “He said he's going to church now. Maybe he realized the failings you pointed out and decided to improve upon them. He sounded quite earnest.”

Mary stopped. Stared at her friend for a moment. “Have you gone mad?”

“What?” Polly's eye held the twinkle Mary knew and loved. “He is rather fine-looking. And unlike most of the men in this town, he's got nice manners. He seems to be everything a man ought to be.”

That was precisely the problem...he
seemed
to be a lot of things. The trouble was, he was none of them.

“And to think just yesterday, you were telling me how all men were less useful than the sludge that comes from the smelters.”

Polly sighed. “True. I'm sure your Ben is just as useless despite being so handsome to behold. Still, a girl can always dream that there's happiness to be found for someone, at least.”

“A man's looks can be deceiving, surely you know that.”

The darkness Mary had come to recognize being part of Polly returned to her face, and Mary regretted teasing Polly about hating men. The man who'd recently broken Polly's heart had supposedly been very handsome. Mary hadn't meant to rub salt in Polly's wounds.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean—“

“Leave it. You don't want to talk about Ben, I don't want to talk about the past.”

Polly adjusted the basket she'd been carrying. “Let's hurry and deliver these baked goods to Miss Betty's, then meet up with the other girls from church for the picnic. It'll be good for you to get to know them, and it'd be a far sight better than sitting around the house with Rose still sore at you.”

Mary's own basket was starting to get heavy, and she'd appreciate finishing the task, as well. Even though she understood Frank's mission was about helping the less fortunate in Leadville, Mary still didn't always understand why it had to be
those
women. It didn't matter how many times Frank told the story of the sinful woman and how no one cast a stone at her, she still didn't feel comfortable entering dens of sin.

Were it not for Miss Betty's kindness, though, who knew what would have happened to Nugget, Mary's youngest sister. Most notorious women would not have cared for the child of one of their deceased workers, but Miss Betty had taken care of Nugget until their brother Joseph came to town. Surely she could muster some grace for the sinner who saved her sister.

She and Polly bustled down the street, picking up their pace as they entered State Street. Most decent folks avoided this part of town. Ruffians could attack at any time, and no one would come to their aid. Usually one of Polly's brothers came with them, but they'd been too busy up at the mine, now that it was finally in production.

As they passed the saloon a few doors down from Miss Betty's, a man stumbled out, disheveled.

“But I can still win it back,” he slurred.

Mary lifted her skirts slightly and attempted to move past when another man followed.

“I don't think so, Hank. You're in to me for far more than you can ever pay.” The man gave a barking laugh, so distinctive that Mary was forced to look at him.

Ben. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a scantily clad woman had her arm possessively around his.

Mary glanced over at Polly, who gave a shrug.

But Mary wasn't going to accept that. Not when it could possibly give her a way out.

“So this is where you've been keeping yourself,” she told him, giving her best glare. “Despite your words last night, I think it's clear that we no longer have a future together.”

He stepped toward her, stuffing his shirttails into his pants. “A little meaningless fun, that's all.”

“Not in my book.” Mary tucked her free arm into Polly's and took another step down the street. “Let's go.”

Another man rounded the corner, blocking their path. She didn't need to look up to know it was Will. Something about his presence...

Whatever it was, it couldn't be a good feeling, the way her windpipe felt as if it was closing up. Mary cleared her throat. “I see you've found each other. Now you both can leave me alone. I want nothing more to do with the lot of you.”

She tugged at Polly's arm to go around them, catching Polly mouth the question
Two beaus?
at her. No, she didn't have two beaus. She'd only ever had the one, but...

Will's eyes were firmly upon her. Deep, probing eyes that made her feel more undressed than the woman standing next to Ben.

Ben said something, but she didn't hear. Didn't want to, for that matter. Determined not to be caught up in further conversation with either man, she practically sprinted to Miss Betty's, pulling a breathless Polly behind her.

Only once they were seated in Miss Betty's kitchen, cups of tea in front of them, the serving girl dispatched to fetch Miss Betty, did Mary speak.

“So now you understand why I can't marry Ben.” Polly gave a nonchalant look. “They all do it. Might as well accept that fact. You'll marry eventually, then look aside when he seeks his entertainment.”

Mary's face burned. Not just with the casual treatment of marriage, but with the reminders of what her family had suffered due to her father's indiscretion.

“Frank isn't like that,” Mary retorted. Some men could be trustworthy.

After casually setting her teacup down, Polly gave half a smile. “But he's a rare one. Most men think nothing of visiting State Street.”

“Polly MacDonald!” Mary glared at her friend. “Your mother would tan your hide if she heard you being so vulgar. Like one of—” she looked around, hoping none were listening, and lowered her voice “—those women.”

Polly picked up one of the cookies the kitchen maid had set before them. “Those women happen to be onto the truth about men. I've talked to some of them on our visits, and I think they're quite nice.”

Then, as though she was sitting in her own mother's kitchen, Polly took a large bite of cookie.

Quite nice. Mary squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to count to ten. One of those quite nice women had trapped her father and foisted a child on him, a child that her brother was forcing them all to accept as their sister. Oh, it wasn't little Nugget's fault. In truth, Nugget completed their family in a way she never thought possible.

But it didn't make her father's actions right.

She knew she should be able to forgive and move on, especially as Frank's sermons were full of lessons about everyone falling short of the glory of God, but somehow, these women and their sins bothered her the most. What was the benefit of finding riches when your soul would burn from your evil deeds?

She'd thought that after two months of helping Frank's mission to these women, it would be easier. That reminding herself of the good Miss Betty had done for her family would lessen the pain of witnessing so many mired in sin.

But it hadn't. Maybe her inability to come to terms with her father's deception was more about her own. If only Mary hadn't been so enamored with the idea of having a beau that she'd been blinded to the truth. She'd lived in the fantasy that she and Ben would get married and get her and her siblings out of Aunt Ina's home. She'd thought that temporarily deceiving everyone about Ben would be worth it in the end because they'd finally be free. But Ben had lied, and Mary's lies had all been for naught.

Was that what her father had done?

No, she couldn't dwell on such things.

Mary opened her eyes to see the mirth in Polly's. “It still bothers you, doesn't it?”

“Wouldn't it bother
you
?”

Polly's casual shrug was meant to catch her off guard, but Mary saw the pain in her eyes. “It's what men do. The sooner you accept it, the better off you'll be.”

Now she knew Polly wasn't talking about Mary's father, but about the man who'd courted Polly—as a lie. It was probably hard for Polly to accept that there were still some honorable men out there.

Lies. Responsible for hurting so many people.

The maid returned to the kitchen and offered a small curtsy. “Miss Betty's not up to receiving today, but she says to tell the pastor that she appreciates his kindness in remembering her.”

Mary smiled as politely as she could, hoping that her harsh words hadn't been overheard by Miss Betty. It wasn't Miss Betty's fault that Mary's life had been upended by another woman in her profession. But if her father hadn't met that other woman, then perhaps he would have come home in time to save their farm. Maybe then her mother would still be alive. And maybe she might have never met Ben at all. Then her life and family wouldn't be the horrible mess it was now.

* * *

Will caught up with the ladies as they exited the brothel. What were they thinking, visiting a house of ill repute? Two single ladies, alone? Thankfully, he'd decided to return to the saloon to see if he could learn more about Ben in the daylight.

“Allow me to escort you home,” he said, stepping in stride with them. “It's not safe for you to be here.”

Mary's glare was sharper than any of the glaciers that had carved out these beautiful mountains. “We come here every week to bring food to Miss Betty. We're perfectly safe.”

He might not have known her well, but Will could still hear the fear in her voice. But what was she afraid of? Him? Or State Street?

“But we'd be delighted to have your escort,” her friend added, giving him a dazzling smile. “I don't believe I've made your acquaintance, though you're clearly familiar with Mary.”

The scowl on Mary's face gave him an impish pleasure, almost like when he used to pull Nancy Shaw's braids back in school. Oh, how she'd hated it when he did that. But there was something about giving those braids a tug that always made him grin. At ten years old, he'd been sure he'd marry Nancy Shaw. But she'd moved away and left him with no one else to tease.

So it was with a giddy feeling in his stomach that he tipped his hat to Mary's friend and said, “Will Lawson, at your service.”

“Polly MacDonald.” She gave a mock curtsy and wink that told him she was enjoying tormenting Mary just as much. “And don't mind Mary. She's just—”

Mary's elbow to her friend's side was not at all discreet. “Enough. We're due home, so let's not dally. I'm sure your mother could use our help with the little ones.”

“Help?” Polly's indignant sputter forced Will to hold in his laughter. “I thought we were going on the picnic with the other girls from church.”

Watching Mary's face turn as purple as her dress almost brought him the same satisfaction as he'd had as a kid, only now...there was a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. As if maybe there was something more to be desired.

Insanity.

He could tell by the way her face contorted as she tried to come up with an answer that she didn't want to let her friend down, but she also wanted out of his presence as soon as possible. Something he wished he could oblige her on, but first, he needed to know what she knew.

After spending time in a place his mother would be ashamed to know he'd ever entered, Will had to do something more to stop Ben. He'd hurt too many people, and it would be Will's fault if Ben hurt any more.

Will looked past Mary to Polly, who seemed more peacefully inclined toward him. “If you'd like to go to the picnic, I'd be happy to escort you. Mrs. Rafferty said I could use her wagon anytime. It'd be a shame for you to miss out because Mary's got work to do.”

His words had the desired effect. While Polly beamed, Mary's face turned a dark crimson. “No need for you to borrow a wagon. We're meeting at the church and going as a group.”

He wasn't going to let Miss Mary Stone off the hook so easily. Sure, she was mad, but what had he ever done to her? If it took making her explode in the middle of Harrison Avenue, then fine. But he was going to get to the bottom of the situation and figure out just what she had to do with Ben.

Will gave her an easy smile, then turned his attention back to Polly. “Still, if Mary is unable to go, I'm happy to take her place. I would like to get to know some of the community better.”

That did the trick. Mary stepped in front of him, then stopped to turn to face him. “You are not needed to take Polly to the picnic. I said I'd go with her, and I'll go with her. Now that we've safely arrived to the respectable part of Harrison Avenue, you can be about your business.”

Was she so mule-headed that she didn't understand that she was his business? With the way her eyes sparked, he didn't think so. Mary knew exactly what he wanted—to talk about Ben. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the raven-haired beauty who could give as good as she got.