The Engagement Bargain Page 22

  Again that morning she’d almost broached the subject of her father, only to stop herself. He was dead, what did digging up the past matter? Curiosity lingered despite all her good intentions. Tomorrow, tomorrow on the train, when they were alone, she’d ask her. After all these years, she deserved something of an answer. Even if that answer wasn’t satisfactory.

  Izetta patted her hand. “There’s no need for apologies. I’ve quite enjoyed my stay in Cimarron Springs. In fact, I believe I’ll stay.”

  Anna started. “You’re staying?”

  “Why not? As I said before, I’m a widow with a pension. I make my rules.”

  “But what about your work in Kansas City?”

  “I’ll still fight, never doubt that. I’ll simply find another way.”

  Anna held her tongue. Izetta’s plans were not up for debate. A tinge of jealousy caught her by surprise. Izetta had choices. Another reason Anna must return home. In St. Louis, she made a difference.

  Tonight, though, she was forgetting all about the vote. Tonight was her last night with Caleb, her last hour, her last stolen moment, and she planned on enjoying their evening.

  A tingle of anticipation danced along her nerves. After hearing about the Bainum farm from Caleb, she was anxious for her first view.

  When she caught sight of him, her soul filled with tenderness. Caleb halted the wagon, set the brake and hopped down.

  He circled toward the front and her. His gaze caressed her, and a shiver went down her back. He wore a crisp white shirt, dark trousers and a dark close-fitting coat. His hair had been brushed till it gleamed, his face freshly shaved. As he approached, she caught the faint hint of bay rum. She leaned closer and inhaled the scent, committing the sensation to memory.

  Izetta urged her forward. “You sit in the middle. I’ll feel claustrophobic if I have to ride squashed between the two of you.”

  Anna blushed. Caleb looked her up and down, his gaze slow and lingering, his eyes showing his appreciation. She fought the urge to dash back into the house and change into her blue taffeta dress. This was the last evening they’d spend together, and she wanted to look nice. Blue always gave her courage. She wanted him to remember her fondly. But no, she didn’t need courage. She just needed to be herself for once.

  He slipped his hands around her waist and easily lifted her into the wagon. If his fingers lingered a bit, she didn’t call him out.

  When he reached for Izetta, she held up her palm. “I’m too old to be lifted into the air. Just give me a foot up.”

  Caleb dutifully bent and threaded his finger. Izetta stepped into his outstretched hand and hoisted herself onto the seat beside Anna. Caleb circled the wagon and swung up on her opposite.

  Claustrophobic was not the word Anna would use to describe the situation. The arrangement was cozy. Caleb’s body pressed against her left side, shielding her from the worst of the wind. Izetta blocked the right. Each bend and dip in the road threw her more tightly against Caleb. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he’d aimed for a few of the divots.

  With a lingering sense of disappointment she alighted at the Bainum farm. Izetta hopped out on her own, sprightly despite her age. Caleb once again wrapped his fingers around her waist.

  “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?” he asked.

  She doubted she’d notice if his touch exacerbated her wound. All she thought about were the gold flecks around his irises and how the setting sun behind him haloed his dark hair. Pausing a moment, she memorized his features, locking away each line in his forehead, the tiny scar near his ear, the way his hairline flared at his temples.

  She forced her thoughts back to Jane. A little girl without a voice. A little girl who would grow into a woman without a voice. Jane deserved better. She deserved a champion.

  Their gazes held for a long moment, each realizing this was their last evening together. He looked as though he might say something, but the moment was lost.

  Another wagon had arrived. One of the boys from town dashed over and grasped the lead lines, promising he’d take good care of the team.

  Caleb made a show of escorting Izetta, and Anna appreciated the courtly gesture.

  The Bainum barn was a rambling succession of buildings tucked against a hill, banked by shrubs and trees. The barn had been painted red at one point, although weather had faded the siding almost pink.

  Music and laughter spilled from the open barn doors. With the setting sun, the men scrambled for lanterns, turning the inside of the barn a warm yellow glow.

  The shucking had already begun, with a dozen men seated on low stools, a pile of corn in the middle.

  A low table held an assortment of covered dishes along with an enormous jug of cider.

  Caleb fetched them both a glass. At Anna’s hesitation, he said, “Don’t worry, it’s not hard cider. The old farmer learned his lesson.”

  She gratefully accepted the glass. A shout sounded from the men seated behind her, and a gentleman proudly raised his ear of red corn. The man was married, and his wife made a great show of looking put out before bussing him on the cheek. A few of the single men grumbled at the loss of a stolen kiss.

  Anna spotted Jo and the children. “There’s your sister. This will be the last chance I have to thank her for everything she’s done.”

  “I’ll join the others,” Caleb said.

  Anna met up with Jo, and they made great study of the delectable desserts and pies lining the food table. Shawn snatched a crinkle cookie and stuffed the sugary mess into his mouth quick as a flash.

  He chomped through his mother’s scolding and reached for another before she finished her lecture.

  Jo was faster this time and caught his arm. “No more until after supper.”

  Shawn blinked his reluctant agreement. Anna figured Jo better not turn her back—the little sprite looked as determined as Pipsqueak staring down a rosebush.

  The marshal motioned her aside. Frowning, Anna followed him toward a quiet recess.

  He glanced around. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I have some information that might interest you.”

  “Please, I’d rather hear it now.”

  “Reinhart is in town. He came a few days ago. We figured it was better if his visit stayed quiet.”

  “I understand.”

  “Turns out he discovered a few things about your father.” He paused. “Are you sure you’re okay to hear this?”

  Anna clenched her hands. “I’m certain. Just don’t say his name quite yet. I’m not ready to make this personal. I only want the details.”

  If the marshal thought her request odd, he didn’t say anything. “He was an architect. Wealthy. Married and widowed once. A pillar of the community.”

  Another cheer went up from the crowd, and Anna turned with a smile, wondering who’d get the next kiss. Her gaze clashed with Caleb’s, and she realized he held the prize.

  The marshal touched her elbow and urged her forward. “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow. Come by my office at lunch. I’ll make certain Reinhart is there.”

  She nodded and caught sight of Caleb once more. Her cheeks warmed. He made a great show of rubbing his chin and searching the room. He passed before several giggling girls, his progress leading him steadily in her direction. Her heart clattered against her ribs. He paused before her and crouched.

  Anna started.

  He bent and kissed Cora’s forehead, then planted another kiss on Jocelyn’s, then hugged them close. “My two best girls!”

  Jocelyn and Cora giggled, and the crowd roared its approval.

  If she hadn’t loved him before, she would have fallen hard right then.

  She caught his eyes; those bewitching forest-green eyes were filled with a promise of more to come.

  His breath whispered against h
er ear and sent her whole body trembling. “I’ll have my boon later.”

  After all the corn was husked, the ears were loaded into wheelbarrows and dumped into the enormous grain stalls at the end of the barn. The stalks were bagged for kindling, and the floor swept clean for the dance.

  The men relinquished their low stools and many of the ladies claimed them. A violin began playing a low, mournful tune.

  “Ah, c’mon, Berny!” Maxwell yelled. “Play something happy.”

  A gentlemen with a guitar joined Berny and his violin. Soon a lively rendition of the “Farmer in the Dell” had several couples on their feet.

  Maxwell appeared before her, his hair slicked back, his suit pants only slightly too short. He sketched a bow and held out his hand. “Dance?”

  “I don’t know the steps.”

  One of her many nannies had taught her the waltz amidst much laughter and teasing, but she’d never danced with a gentleman before. Dancing was another one of those frivolous activities her mother deplored.

  “Don’t worry,” Maxwell urged. “You’ll catch on soon enough.”

  He twirled her onto the dance floor, and before she knew what was happening, she’d joined in the merry jig. After that her feet never stopped moving. First one McCoy brother, then another joined her in the dance.

  She watched as Sarah joined Brahm on the dance floor, his ears a vivid shade of red, a shy smile on her face. Just when she thought she’d collapse from all the activity, the music slowed.

  Caleb appeared before her. “May I have this dance?”

  She rested her left hand on his shoulder, her gloved right hand clasped in his. Behind them, the small band strummed out the mournful tune of the Tennessee Waltz.

  Caleb swept her around the dance floor, his expression admiring. “I wasn’t sure if you waltzed. I didn’t know if Victoria approved.”

  “I don’t always listen to my mother.”

  “Scandalous, Miss Bishop.”

  “One of my nannies taught me.”

  “Remind me to thank her.”

  The soothing cadence of his voice sent a warm glow through her. “That was a very sweet thing you did, giving your kiss to Jocelyn and Cora.”

  “They weren’t my first choice.”

  “Oh,” said Anna coyly. “And who was your first choice?”

  “Mrs. Franklin.”

  Anna burst out laughing. “Are you ever serious?”

  The light in his eyes dimmed. “I’m going to miss you.”

  The music cocooned them, the dancers swirled around the floor, everyone caught up in their own conversations. He was the more sensible of the two of them. The time for kisses was over. She was leaving the following day. Weak, feminine tears welled in her eyes and she didn’t care a whit.

  “We can write,” Anna said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I love you.”

  She jerked away from him and dashed toward the exit. If anyone noticed her hasty departure, no one said anything.

  There were people everywhere, people in the barn, in the house, wagons lining the drive. She walked away from all the noise and commotion, seeking a moment of solitude.

  Why had he gone and said he loved her? She’d just discovered her own feelings, and her emotions were too chaotic. Somehow, believing only her heart had been broken had made the whole situation more palatable. Except she’d been lying to herself. Of course she’d known his feelings were deepening, of course she’d known they were both drawn to each other. She simply hadn’t wanted to acknowledge his part, as well.

  Leaving was much easier when she didn’t know his feelings ran as deep as her feelings for him. He was a good man, a kind man. This was his home. He wasn’t going to leave, and she wasn’t staying. The situation was impossible, and both of them had known the truth.

  Only one of them had been brave enough to state their feelings outright. She bent her head and tugged her wrap tighter around her shoulders. The coward among them was plain. She’d rather face an angry mob than the one man who held her heart.

  She was so preoccupied that she nearly ran into the gentleman. In fact, he had to reach out to stop her from colliding with him.

  “Mr. Baker?” she said hesitantly.

  “Mr. Bekker.”

  She’d been introduced some time earlier. “Yes, sorry. You’re here for the horses, aren’t you? Visiting with Mr. Elder.”

  “Actually, no.”

  Something in his voice had her glancing behind her. “I should be going.”

  “Don’t you want to know why I’m really here?”

  She felt a twinge of alarm. She was too far from the barn. The music was loud. People were dancing and clapping, their feet stomping on the wooden stage. Away from the light, she was vulnerable. Mr. Bekker knew it as well, she could tell. A spark of fear raced along her spine.

  She spun away, and his arm snaked around her waist. With a startled cry she slammed into his chest. Summoning up all her strength, she stomped on his toe. The man yelped and released her.

  She dashed toward the barn, toward the people. A heavy weight socked her from behind, knocking her onto the ground. Pain shot through her side. She sucked in a breath to scream, and his hand clamped over her mouth.

  “You’re a difficult woman to kill, sis.”

  Her world went black.

  * * *

  Caleb stumbled off the makeshift dance floor and into the night air. Why had he said that? He’d destroyed what little rapport remained between them. He’d destroyed any chance of maintaining even a sliver of friendship.

  People milled about, talking and laughing. Triple A sat on an overturned washtub, smoking a pipe, the smell pungent and familiar. The night was crisp, the moon bright. What kind of fool ruined such a beautiful evening?

  Caleb stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared into the darkness.

  Triple A let out a low whistle. “How are things going with the goat? Found him a home yet?”

  “Pipsqueak is staying with me.”

  Caleb kicked at the dirt. They had something in common, he and that goat. They both loved Anna; they might as well stick together. Beyond the circle of light glowing from the open doors, the night turned pitch. Clouds drifted over the moon, dimming the light and blocking the stars.

  The patter of running feet brought him around.

  Jasper dashed forward and grabbed his hand. “They took her.”

  Caleb crouched, and the boy grabbed his hand. Touching the boy’s wrist, he felt the rapidly beating pulse. “Slow down. What’s going on?”

  “They got Miss Anna. Some man knocked her down. I followed him. I figured I couldn’t help unless I knew where he was going. He tossed her into the back of the wagon, and that other lady joined him.”

  His heart twisted painfully. “What other lady? Who were they?”

  “That couple from back East, the ones after Mr. Elder’s horses.”

  Caleb had seen the couple around town, though he hadn’t given them much notice. “Which way were they headed?”

  “Toward town.”

  His blood ran hot. A sudden memory burst into his head. He’d seen the woman before, Mrs. Bekker. He’d seen her on the stairs in the hotel. He’d almost run into her, then Anna had nearly been killed. They hadn’t come for the horses, they’d come to kill her.

  He grasped Jasper by the shoulders. “Fetch Marshal Cain. He’s inside. Tell him what you told me.”

  Someone had tethered their horse near a tree, and Caleb snatched the reins. He tightened the cinch on the saddle and swung into place. Kicking the horse into a gallop, he set off down the darkened road.

  They were in a wagon, going slower than a man riding alone. He had the adva
ntage; they didn’t know he was following. As he reached town, ambient light from the saloon and hotel lit the street. The wagon was nowhere in sight.

  His stomach churned. Whoever had taken Anna was hampered by the conveyance. He reined his horse and quickly scanned the street. The only other place they could take a wagon was near the houses on the edge of town. He kicked the horse into a lope once again and had nearly reached town when he caught sight of the wagon.

  They were in his house.

  He swung down and cautiously approached. Voices sounded from inside. The marshal was a smart man; if Caleb had found the wagon, Garrett wasn’t far behind.

  He made for the stairs, and someone grabbed his shoulder. He cocked back his arm.

  “Wait!” a familiar voice grated harshly. “It’s me. Reinhart.”

  Caleb lowered his arm. “They’ve got Anna.”

  “I know. I’ll explain everything later. You’ll get yourself killed if you storm in there.”

  At least with two of them they had a fighting chance. “How many are there?”

  “Just two. A husband and wife. You got a gun?”

  “Inside.”

  “Can you get to it?”

  “If I go in around back.”

  “Good,” Reinhart said. “You take the back. Once you’re inside, I’ll come in the front. We’ll trap them.”

  Satisfied with the plan, Caleb ducked beneath the window. The voices grew louder.

  “They’ll think it was a crime of passion,” the man said.

  “You always complicated things.” The woman, presumably Mrs. Bekker, spoke. “We should have shot her and dumped her body in the woods.”

  His fingers shook with rage and he fisted them a few times, clearing his head. Scooting on his hands and knees, he made his way toward the back door. He always left his bedroom window unlatched. If the husband and wife continued arguing, he and Reinhart had the advantage.

  He eased open the window and hoisted himself over the sill. Creeping through the house, he made his way to the center corridor.

  A woman blocked his view of Anna.