Kat had fallen into a restless sleep, wrung out from worry and exhausted from her long and emotional walk down memory lane.
Rome wondered if he’d ever sleep again.
The woman in his arms had ravaged his heart and mind with her harsh truths. He’d listened and absorbed. He’d reined in his shock and disappointment. He understood why she’d made certain choices, but wished she would have afforded him options as well. He wished she would have contacted him when she learned she was carrying. He wanted to believe he would’ve done the right thing, though he acknowledged, given his mind-set back then, he might’ve harbored resentment. He might’ve done more harm than good, marrying her with distrust in his heart, distancing himself if the child turned out to have Brady’s dimpled chin and grey eyes.
Then again, maybe they would’ve worked through their troubles to forge a true family bond.
He’d never know.
Throughout the sleepless night, he’d told himself to leave go of that regret. Told himself to focus on the present. Difficult, what with the chaos ravaging his senses. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. But the idea of Kat going one on one with that son of a bitch Brady gutted his insides. Though her confession had shaken him deeply, he still worried about her welfare, as well as the child’s. He would be concerned for any child, but knowing Frankie could be his daughter intensified his feelings tenfold. Twentyfold. In fact, he’d shut down that part of himself hours ago, believing that, in the event Brady did somehow kidnap Frankie, the only way he could handle the situation was with cold control.
As for Kat, with her warm body clinging to his, ignoring his feelings for her proved impossible. Her complexity intrigued him. He harbored profound affection for the vulnerable girl and a new appreciation for the woman who’d survived financial and emotional turmoil. When his own life had taken a turn for the worse, at least he’d had the love and support of his family. Aside from Mr. and Mrs. Lamour, and her dead friend, Johnson Pratt, Kat had faced the world alone.
He gazed down at the woman sleeping in his arms, thinking she possessed not only an inherent sensuality, but also true grit. Given her beauty and intelligence, she could have snagged a man of her choosing and married, lending her daughter a name, respectability, and, hopefully, protection. The notion had niggled throughout the night. Why hadn’t she taken the sensible and easier path?
A light knock stole his attention. Pulse quickening, he slipped away from Kat and had his britches on and his arms shoved in the sleeves of his damp shirt by the time he reached the door. He opened it a crack, saw Athens, and waved him inside. His body surged with adrenaline. “Tell me.”
Athens stopped just over the threshold. He glanced over Rome’s shoulder to where Kat lay sleeping, then averted his eyes and tempered his voice. “Just received a telegram from Camp Grant. All is well at San Fernando.”
Rome blew out a breath, his heart lighter but not free. “Boston arrived as planned,” Athens whispered. “But Sister Maria sent him away . . . with the kid. I don’t have specifics. Only that Boston mentioned taking Frankie home.”
“To Casa Bend?”
“To Phoenix.”
“What the hell?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Because they’d worked side by side for so long, Rome knew Boston better than any of his siblings. Athens was counting on his insight. “If he’d suspected Frankie was in immediate danger, he would’ve sought refuge at Camp Grant. If they simply needed a place to stay until Brady was snagged, he could’ve hunkered down in a nearby hotel.”
“Exactly,” Athens said. “Why cart the kid four days north? To Phoenix? More specifically---into the Garrett fold?”
He’s protecting one of our own.
“He must’ve suspected,” Rome thought out loud.
“Suspected what?”
He wasn’t ready to discuss the possibility that he’d fathered Frankie. He needed to live with the notion awhile longer. Not knowing for sure put a twisted spin on an already-uncomfortable situation. “Never mind.” He bit the inside of his cheek, jawing on more
whys. Why had Sister Maria tossed them out? Why didn’t Boston inform Athens of his intentions?
“I know the telegraph office nearest to the convent was down, but Boston could’ve wired you from other towns along the way Odd that he’d keep us in the dark.”
“I agree, but maybe he deemed it imperative to avoid civilization. A lone man traveling with a small child? Bound to raise brows and questions.”
Bound to instigate talk. Boston wouldn’t want to draw attention.
Athens’s expression darkened. “There’s more. A couple of days after Boston hit the trail, Brady arrived at the convent, claiming to be Frankie’s father.”
Rome’s body vibrated with seething hatred. He didn’t care that the man’s boast was possibly true. No way, no how, would he allow that bastard to pull an innocent little girl into his life. Frankie belonged with Kat. And Kat, goddammit to hell, belonged with him.
“Rome.” Athens leaned in, voice grim. “Brady knows where Boston’s headed with the kid.”
Fuck.
“If he doesn’t catch up with our brother and Frankie before they reach Phoenix, there’s a remote possibility he’ll strike on our home turf.”
“Meaning Zach, Zoe, and Kaila could be in harm’s way.”
“Along with Boston, London, and Frankie.” Athens shoved his hands through his hair. “I sent wires to three Peacemakers, all within a couple days’ ride, pulling them off their current cases and sending them to Phoenix. I’d notify Josh, but I don’t want to pull him away from Paris. Although I should at least make him aware of the situation.”
“Probably. But if Paris and Emily caught wind of the potential danger to family, you know they’d insist on Josh riding to Phoenix and no way in hell would they stay behind.”
Athens nodded. “Noted.”
“London, however--”
“Seth’s wiring him while I’m briefing you. A coded message with essentials only and a directive to alert Marshal Clancy. No details, just advising him to be on the lookout.”
“You really want to bring the local law into this?”
“Foolish not to. Clancy can deputize a small legion. Visible guns on patrol may be enough of a deterrent to buy us the time we need.”
Rome quirked a grin. “My brother, the strategist.”
Athens grunted. “The sooner we hit the trail, the better. I don’t want to leave Kat behind and unprotected, but at the same time--”
“I won’t slow you down.”
Rome turned to find his tousle-haired bedmate already partially dressed. He turned back to Athens. “Meet you out front in ten minutes.”
Athens left and Rome walked over and wrenched open the curtains, shedding light on Kat and her ministrations. He assumed she’d heard most or enough of his conversation with Athens. He imagined her anxiety, but she looked calm as you please as she stepped into a split skirt and riding boots.
“Give me five minutes to pack essentials,” she said.
“What about all of your gowns?”
“Do you really think I care?”
Stupid question. “Kat.” He grasped her shoulders, bid her attention.
“If you leave me behind,” she said, serious as an undertaker, “I’ll make the journey alone.”
He didn’t doubt her word. What’s more, he understood her determination. “If you ride with us, I want your promise you won’t act without my consent. No more rushing blindly into a storm. No more solo heroics.”
“I could easily pull a poker face right now. I could promise you the moon. I could bluff and make you buy it, because I’m that good. Is that what you want from me, Rome? A lie?”
Normally, her hard tone and steely glare would have whipped him into a confrontation. But he recognized the tactic. Cold control. He also recognized the futility in trying to reason with her just now. Not to mention the wasted time.
“I’ll secure you a fast mount from the livery.” He snatched his holster from the table. “We’re riding out in ten.”
“If you’re banking on me being late, you’ll lose.”
Phoenix
For a man who thought he’d never wed, London couldn’t marry Victoria fast enough. Her father didn’t want her, but the cattle baron might. When the truth came out that she’d survived the train robbery, would the man seek her out? If so, and if he tracked her to Phoenix, London wanted to be in a prime position to send him packing.
There was also Bulls-Eye Brady. Rome and Kat were out there taunting the bastard. If all went according to plan, they’d catch the outlaw. Next step: trial. Victoria was the eyewitness Athens needed to hang the man, literally. Whether or not she chose to testify, London wanted her under his protection. Legally.
He did what came naturally. He took control.
Despite Victoria’s thoughtful nod to his family, he didn’t inform Kaila, nor his niece and nephew. London didn’t want to waste time explaining his actions. He’d set things in motion, prepared and willing to deal with the impending fallout with his family. For once, he’d put his own needs and wants first. He’d roused a jeweler and a Bible-thumper and, by sunrise, Victoria was his bride.
“How do you feel?” he asked her as they exited the minister’s home arm in arm.
“A little dazed.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. We did it.”
Her nervous laugh warmed him like the desert sun. He smiled down at his wife. Wife. He could scarcely believe it himself. “Shadow dwellers, no more.”
He’d admired Victoria plenty during the brief ceremony, but even so he couldn’t drink his fill. She’d changed into a cheery yellow day gown, creatively utilizing a paisley shawl and brooch to camouflage the revealing neckline. Decorative combs held back the sides of her hair, the bulk of her shiny waves swinging just above her waist. London thought her the most beautiful woman on earth--inside and out.
Heart full, he smoothed his thumb over the simple gold band he’d placed on her finger when they’d said their vows. “How would you like to spend the first day of our adventure, Mrs. Garrett? Shopping for a new wardrobe? Looking for a place to call home?”
“We have a home,” she said as they walked the boards of Jefferson Street. “Your apartments above Last Chance.”
“Always meant that to be temporary. Now I have a reason to hurry things along.” Although he liked the idea of keeping Victoria close, he didn’t want her living above the saloon. She deserved better, and he wanted better for her. He also wanted privacy. Thoughts of getting her naked, often, put a hitch in his step.
She stopped in front of Thomas Howe’s carpentry shop. At first London thought she wanted to peruse the merchant’s handmade furniture. Instead, she gripped the lapels of his frock coat, tugged him closer. “So much is happening, so fast,” she whispered. “Would you mind if we spent the day alone together? I’m more intrigued by the things you promised to show me, you know, intimately speaking, than with shopping.”
Well, hell. His heart and shaft throbbed. He framed her face, aching to kiss her dizzy.
Later, Garrett. Behind closed doors for chrissakes.
“It pleases me to know you’re curious, and even more that you let me know.”
She blushed, and he knew this conversation had run its course.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her across the muddy street, smiling and dipping his chin in greeting to the merchants who were opening doors for business. “Just married,” he said to seamstress Nattie Burns. The news would spread like wildfire. Fine by him. It would shelve talk regarding the unchaperoned woman sleeping in his home. No doubt Victoria’s reputation had already taken a beating. As his wife, the whispers would stop.
Once on the opposing boardwalk, London set his bride to her feet but hastened her pace. The Last Chance and a morning of lovemaking waited two blocks ahead. “Business affairs keep me bound to Phoenix just now,” he said, trying to focus on something other than seducing a virgin. “But as soon as I’m able, I’ll take you on a honeymoon. Anywhere in particular you’d like to visit?”
“What’s it like where your sister lives?”
“Paris and Josh live near the Superstition Mountains. Rugged territory mostly populated by miners. Not the most romantic place for a bridal tour.”
“Maybe not, but I’m curious about your family.”
He couldn’t imagine the loneliness of being an only child. Worse, an only child raised by one parent, a father who bemoaned her existence. “You’ll meet my family soon enough, honey. Be warned, they’re a colorful bunch.”
“Like Zach and Zoe and Kaila.” Another smile. “I can’t wait.”
Once again his thoughts turned to lovemaking. Beyond the physical ecstasy to an extended emotional bond. For the first time in his life he actually envisioned himself with a passel of kids. It occurred to him that he was happiest when he had a brood to care for. It had been a long time since his siblings had needed him in that fashion, and now that he was no longer managing a large opera house and hoards of mischievous performers . . . well, hell, no wonder he’d been so damn bored.
Nearing the saloon, he spied a buckboard in front. The driver looked familiar. It couldn’t be. But then the tall, Stetson-wearing man hopped from the driver’s throne just as a slender blond woman dressed in boyish clothes swung out of the back and the two of them helped a very pregnant half pint to the ground. It was. “What the hell?”
Victoria squeezed his hand. “Who is it, London?”
“My sister.”
So much for boredom. So much for a morning of love-making.
The first hour of dawn had passed in a blissful sleep- deprived blur, and Victoria had hoped for even more bliss, bliss of a deeply intimate nature. She’d been floating on air, detached from reality, living a life she’d only fantasized about--marrying a charismatic, handsome man, marrying for love. The crash to earth was sudden and sobering. This wasn’t a fantasy. This was real. She’d just married a man she barely knew. A man with a large, loving family. A family who would question her place in his life.
If the pregnant young woman was London’s sister, Paris, then the broad-shouldered man handling her with kid gloves must be her husband, Josh Grant. The tall young woman with the blond braids and wire-rimmed spectacles had to be Paris’s best friend, Emily. Emily, if she remembered correctly, was married to Josh’s best friend, Seth Wright. What would they say when London introduced her as his wife? What would she say?