A Worthy Pursuit

  “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.

  “All right. Give me the blasted paper.”

  Stone handed it to him. When Dorchester’s eyes went wide and his ruddy face lost its color, Stone’s chest expanded in satisfaction.

  “How . . . how did you get this?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Stone eyed him with a hard stare. “What does matter is that you understand I am in possession of the entire book of which that page is only a sample. A book safely stashed away with an associate. A book that will be turned over to the Texas Rangers as evidence of your . . . shall we say . . . less than savory business dealings unless you turn Lily over to Miss Atherton’s custody as the child’s rightful guardian and cease your pursuit of her. If you agree to these terms, the book will remain in my possession under lock and key, and your secrets will remain hidden.”

  “And if I do give up custody of my granddaughter, what’s to keep you from turning my ledger over to the authorities anyway? I’d be a fool to agree to such a deal!”

  “I have as much motivation to hold to the agreement as you,” Stone assured him. “If I break the deal, there’s nothing to stop you from coming after Lily. Besides, unlike some businessmen, I actually have a reputation for keeping my word.” He narrowed his gaze, and Dorchester’s face turned almost purple.

  “Let Lily go, Dorchester. Honor your daughter-in-law’s wishes. If you don’t, I’ll see to it that book of yours goes straight to the authorities. The authorities and the press. All they would have to do is interview a handful of the names on that list, find one or two willing to testify against the man who blackmailed or swindled them. The press will run with the story even if you persuade the prosecutors not to try your case. I’m sure the public will find it vastly entertaining to see one of Houston’s elite brought low. Your credibility will be ruined. Respectable men will stop doing business with you, and your blackmail accounts will dry up because the men you’ve had in your pocket will turn their backs on you. They’ll want to put as much distance between themselves and you as possible to save their own skin. And once your power is gone, so is your ability to keep your blackmail victims in line. Shoot, one or more of them might even try to get a little revenge. A bullet in the back is a bad way to go.” He shook his head, tsking.

  Dorchester fumed, yet he made no denial of Stone’s allegations, verifying the truth that Stone and Ashe had only theorized when they’d examined the book’s contents that afternoon at the Ranger office. Names and itemized accounts of repetitive payments, some going on for years. Nothing in particular proved blackmail in the book itself, but it provided a lengthy list of names from which to seek witnesses and testimony.

  “Give up the girl, Dorchester, and the additional income she might bring you in the future,” Stone pressed, “or lose everything you have now. Your choice.”

  “Lily’s my granddaughter. She belongs with her family.”

  Stone had had enough of the circular argument. “The girl belongs with the guardian her mother selected for her.” He bent down until he was mere inches from Dorchester’s face. The man shrank back against the headboard, a decided tremble in his shoulders. “Make no mistake,” Stone growled. “I’m taking Lily with me tonight, no matter which option you choose. All you get to decide is whether or not you keep your business interests.”

  Dorchester’s gaze darted from Stone to the door and back again. Looking for escape? Help? Stone tightened his grip on his pistol.

  Then all at once, Dorchester sucked in a huge breath and screamed. “Fraaaanklin!”

  Stone didn’t hesitate. He clocked the old man on the chin with his fist and ran from the room. Getting Lily out safely was all that mattered now.

  A door slammed against a wall somewhere behind him as he raced down the hall. A shot rang out. Wood splintered from the railing beside him.

  “Ashe!”

  “Got him.” The ranger knelt in the opening to Lily’s room and laid down cover fire as Stone dove through the doorway. Shrieks from awakening servants filled the air.

  Trusting Ashe to watch his back, Stone holstered his gun, scooped up a half-dressed, wide-eyed Lily, and shoved her through the window onto the balcony.

  The girl started crying, covering her ears when another shot rang out.

  Stone leaned out the window and gently pulled her hands away from her ears. He pointed toward the front of the house. “Run down to the tree. I’ll be right there.”

  Tears rolling down her cheeks, she nodded and scampered away on stockinged feet that hadn’t had time to find shoes. Stone turned back to Ashe, who had just closed the door. With a grunt, Stone shoved the bureau in front of the portal. Then the two men ran for the window. It wouldn’t take long for Franklin to figure
out where they were headed. And since stairs were much faster to descend than trees, any lead they had would vanish in a flash.

  Stone’s boots pounded against the veranda as he closed the distance to Lily. He lost sight of Ashe, but he had no time to worry about his friend. The man could take care of himself. Lily couldn’t.

  He grabbed Lily to his chest. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “That’s it, squirt. Hold tight. Like a monkey. I’ll take you down the tree.”

  She clasped his neck, closed her eyes, and burrowed her face into his chest. Stone swallowed hard and launched himself over the railing. God, see us through.

  He latched onto a head-high branch and planted his feet on the one right below the balcony. Hand over hand, he climbed down, making sure to keep his back facing the house at all times so Lily would be out of the line of fire if Franklin showed up again.

  Charlotte’s pale face stared up at him from below. No tears. No screaming. Just determined grit etched into her features and outstretched arms ready to take possession of her child.

  Ten feet from the ground, a gunshot cut through the night and rattled the leaves near Stone’s head.

  “Stop!” a voice shouted. “You’ll hit the girl.”

  Dorchester? Did the man actually care about what happened to Lily or just to his investment?

  Stone didn’t have time to ponder the answer.

  “I’m not letting him win!” Franklin yelled, even as he fired another shot from somewhere around the corner, out of sight.

  Charlotte’s assessment had been right. Stone could hear the twisted resolve in the tight tone of Franklin’s voice. All he cared about was proving himself the better enforcer.

  Stone dropped down two more branches. Then another. Almost there.

  A third shot rang out.

  Time slowed.

  His gut vibrated a warning.

  He knew. Knew the bullet would strike its mark.