Love's Revenge (Entangled Scandalous) (14 page)

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice shook with emotion.

The tenseness left her and was replaced by anticipation. He kissed her inner thighs and again into the soft curls. She moaned with the pleasure of his explorations.

She laid her hands softly on his head, a blessing of sorts. The soft silkiness of his hair slid through her fingers. She could explode from the need he called up. She was frantic for release.

Suddenly, he stopped.

“Stephen.” She was confused, unsatisfied. “Please,” she pleaded, in frustration.

“Shhh. Shhh.” He consoled as he moved up. The curls on his chest burned a path up her belly and across her breasts.

He was bold and hard between her legs, poised at the apex. She was desperate for release.

“Stephen,” she called out in a whispered frenzy.

He entered her. He hesitated at a point of resistance and then pushed completely into her, invading her swollen flesh. A slight pain, nothing more, but still it was not enough.

He paused, retreated, and entered her again. She had never experienced anything so exquisite in her life. The next time he entered her, she moved toward him as he thrust and she groaned with pleasure. He throbbed inside her and she groaned again. She was lost. Lost in the ecstasy. Abandoned to the pure visceral pleasure of the moment.

Her breaths came in short pants to match his. Short and quick, their speed escalating. Her body seized in an overpowering convulsion.

He stifled a cry before he convulsed as well. His movements slowed. She reached out for him and drew him down on her, until he lay across her, his head next to hers. She ran her hands consolingly over his back as his ragged breathing slowed and his body relaxed.

“Katherine... Katherine... Katherine,” he whispered over and over in her ear, his warm breath causing her to shiver with delight. His hand caressed her cheek. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m not hurt,” she whispered.

She was left with an emptiness, a barrenness as he pulled out of her. “No,” she protested quietly.

He rose up on an elbow. “No, what?” He smiled at her.

She didn’t know what she was about to say until she said it. “Don’t leave me. Not now, not ever.”

…

Kate awoke enfolded in his arms. Outside the window, the sun was just striking the tops of the mountains, its rays setting their snowy heights aglitter. Her heart sparkled as well. It effervesced with happiness.

“I saw that smile.” His breath dodged her ear and rushed down her neck. She shivered and pressed into him for warmth. His body responded. She rolled onto her back and her smile broadened.

“What’s that smile about?” he asked and then kissed her softly on the lips.

“It’s about you,” she said, and it was the truth. If last night in the forgiving darkness their lovemaking had been tentative, she was ready to make amends.

If last night was a dream, today she was eager to make it a reality.

If last night he had been desirable, this morning in the early sunlight, he was magnificent. She reached over and let her palm nestle against his cheek. He kissed her hand.

“Love me, Stephen,” she said. “Love me.”

And he did.

Thoroughly and magnificently.

Sated, Kate drifted off to sleep. The sun was well above the horizon when she stirred again. A smile crossed her lips. Then her memory forced her to move.

“Where are you going?” Stephen asked as Kate rose from the bed.

“I must go... Otto may come at any time.” She slipped her nightgown over her head and bent to retrieve her wrapper.

His smile faded. “You’re right, of course.” He sat naked at the edge of the bed.

“I’ll come for you in an hour,” he said. “We have supplies to purchase for our trip.”

She nodded.

“Come here.” He extended a hand.

She took it and he pulled her to him. “Katherine, I shouldn’t have—”

“Shhh. I was not unwilling.”

“But—”

She quieted him with a kiss. “I’ll expect you in an hour then.”

…

Kate was just finishing the last of the buttons on the front of her dark blue day gown when there was knock at the door. She smiled and hurried to answer.

“Miss Barker.”

A stranger stood at the door. His plaid suit and derby hat made it clear he was not from Canon City.

“My name is Gilhooley, miss. Patrick Gilhooley.” He opened his jacket. “I’m the Pinkerton man working on your investigation.” Kate spotted the identification badge he wore pinned to his suede vest.

For a moment Kate couldn’t think, didn’t react.

“Are you all right, miss? I’ve had one heck of a time trying to catch you. Just missed you in Denver. Can we talk?”

“Yes, yes of course.” Kate stepped back in a daze.

The Pinkerton man. It had been so long ago. So far away. And now it seemed inconsequential.

“Pardon me, Mr. Gilhooley. You must think me terribly rude. It’s just that…”

“That’s all right, miss. I know it’s terribly early in the morning, but I wanted to reach you before you left again. I’ve been riding all night to catch you. I’ve got that information you wanted on Stephen Worth. Maybe it’s better you sit down.”

She stepped back into the room and sat down in the straight-backed chair.

The man had removed his hat and now twirled it nervously in his hands as he waited in the doorway. She hesitated. Then, reassuring herself that nothing could change the feelings that wrapped her warmly, she asked, “Well, Mr. Gilhooley, what have you found out?”

“You wanted to know where Worth’s been for the last two years. He’s been right down there.” Gilhooley nodded toward the end of town.

Suddenly, horrified, she knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Worth’s been in prison these past two years for murdering your sister.”

Chapter Sixteen

Kate sat frozen in place. Numb and empty inside, it was several moments before she rose. She turned away from Gilhooley and walked unsteadily to the window. The rays of the morning sun had just reached the whitened walls of the prison.

The nightmares! The secret! The betrayal!

She couldn’t think, could barely move. She put her hands on either side of the window and steadied herself.

“Are you all right, Miss Barker?” the Pinkerton man asked.

She shook her head.
No! She wasn’t all right!

“Shall I fetch someone for you?” the flustered man offered.

She made a noise: half laugh, half strangled sob
. Who was he to summon? Stephen Worth?
She remembered last night...this morning. Their lovemaking. She was rent by an agonizing pain, like a sword being driven between her legs and up into her heart.

She pressed a hand into the wool of her dress that covered her stomach. Her passion had betrayed her.

“Shall I continue?” the Pinkerton man asked.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Mr. Gilhooley. Please continue,” she whispered.

Gilhooly took a single step into the room, leaving the door open behind him. He cleared his throat. He checked his notes in a small book. “Worth was released just a few weeks ago on the say of an Indian. Ouray was the Indian’s name. Ute.” The man continued without looking up. “At the trial, the court wouldn’t take the chief’s word that Worth was in the Ute camp at the time of your sister’s death. It took an appeal to the higher court to get him released. I guess his Denver friends rallied around him and petitioned the governor.”

Peg, Dusty, Otto... This was what they had been hiding?
How could they? How dare they?

“What happened to my sister?” Her voice cracked. “How did she die?”

I’m not sure you really want to hear this, miss,” the man mumbled.

She whirled around to face the man. “I believe I’m paying for your services, Mr. Gilhooly.” It was like sticking a hot knife in an open wound, but she had to know the truth.

“She was shot to death at close range with a shotgun in her home,” Gilhooley blurted out.

“And Andy? Was the baby there?”

“Far as I can determine, he was.” The Pinkerton man worried his small notebook between finger and thumb.

“They arrested Stephen Worth?” She fought for control.

“Yes, Miss Barker. Nobody could find him when they found her body and the baby. But when he turned up in town several days later, he was arrested.”

“Why? Why would he kill her?” Her voice was flat despite the fact that the question screamed in her head.

“Folks said she was going to leave him. Leave him and take the boy back with her to St. Louis. Said he was none too happy about that.”

Was Lizzie fighting him for Andy? Kate knew what that was like. Was last night...
this morning, just a ploy? Did he plan to kill her too? But why would he leave the baby behind? Andy could have died.
Her mind was running wild. She placed her palms at her temples and lowered her head. The horror of it all left her faint.

“What did
he
say?” She had to think...to make some sense of it.

“He wouldn’t testify at his own trial.”

“Does anyone know why?”

“Don’t know that yet. I’m not through with my investigation yet. But I thought I should let you know what I’ve found out so far.”

“Yes, thank you. There’s no need for you to continue your investigation. I have what I need now. Please, have your office send a bill to my uncle, George Barker in St. Louis. I believe they have the address.”

“Yes, miss. But you might want to reconsider. Sometimes, these things turn out differently when all the facts are in.”

She tried to keep the violent shaking inside her from her voice. “No, Mr. Gilhooley. I’ll have no need to reconsider. I’ll be returning immediately to Denver and then on to St. Louis.”

The man let himself out. As the door shut, she collapsed to the floor and buried her face in her hands. She sobbed, rocking to and fro in a shuddering dirge to innocence lost.

Lizzie’s.

Andy’s.

And now hers.

The minutes passed and she could not stop herself from crying. The pain washed over her in huge waves, leaving her gasping for breath.

She had to calm herself. She had to take action. She had to return to Denver immediately and get Andy. They had to go home to Uncle George. She finally had the evidence she had been looking for. A long court battle might ensue but it would successfully keep Stephen Worth from Andy for years.

A knock at the door startled her. Her heart raced. Was it him? Had an hour passed?

“Katherine, are you there?” It was Otto.

She sobbed.

“Katherine? Are you all right?” he repeated.

Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away. She bit her lip. Despite her efforts to keep quiet, she again sobbed loudly.

Otto tried the door. She had not locked it after the Pinkerton man had left.

“Katherine, my dear, what’s wrong?” Otto rushed to her side and helped her to stand. “What has happened?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“He has told you then?” Otto took her hands in his.

She pulled her hands away. “No, he did not tell me any more than you did.”

Otto looked appropriately shamed. “I am sorry. Truly sorry, my dear. It was simply that he insisted on telling you himself. I thought perhaps last night...”

“Last night.” She laughed almost hysterically. Then she remembered. Stephen had tried to tell her something last night, just before Otto arrived. She remembered he had opened the door to his room and then reconsidered. None of it made sense.

“Did he kill her?” she demanded.

Taken aback by her bluntness, he did not speak for a moment. Finally he answered. “No.”

“Tell me everything.” She was angry and regaining control.

Otto studied her carefully. “Stephen was in a dispute with Zechariah Morse over a claim. Morse sent men to kill Stephen so he could take the claim. They put a bullet in his back. He survived because a band of Utes found him in the mountains bleeding to death and took him to Ouray’s camp.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “As soon as he could ride, he rushed home to Lizzie. It was too late. She was dead. Dusty and Peg had found her and the baby. Stephen went after Morse, but Morse controlled Silverton. He still does. The trial was a sham, my darling girl. A tragedy made worse when Stephen refused to defend himself.”

“And his back?” She had to know. Had to know it all now.

“The warden”—Otto nodded toward the prison walls—“is sadistic. I have seen such men before. I believe they find great pleasure in inflicting pain.”

What did it all mean? Stephen hadn’t killed Lizzie?

The horror of his back was not from Indians but from a white man?

She was lost. Lost and hurt and angry.

“Why should I believe you?” she demanded.

“It is not I whom you must believe,” Otto said softly. “He is a good man. He loved your sister.” Otto gently took her hands again. “He loves you. He has suffered too much already. Hear him out. Then you can decide.”

He held her hands long after he was finished talking. This time she did not pull away. She wanted to believe Otto, but she was afraid.

“I will be downstairs,” he said. “I am to meet again with General Adams. Come for me if you need me.”

…

Stephen pulled on his shirt and stepped to the window. The town was just beginning to come to life. At the end of town, a jail wagon was pulling into the prison. He stretched forward and the stiff and hardened flesh tightened across his back. He pitied the poor man in the wagon. Whatever he had done, he did not deserve what he was about to endure. The gates of hell would have offered a warmer welcome.

He was resolved to tell Kate everything this morning. He shoved his shirt tails into his pants. The crumpled sheets on the bed sent his mind reeling.

Why in hell had he made love to her? Why hadn’t he told her before? He was a selfish bastard. He prayed he would not regret it for the rest of his life. He had to convince her. She had to believe him. But he wouldn’t beg. She had to trust him.

He sat on the bed to pull on his boots. The bed still smelled of her and of their lovemaking. Memories came flooding back. Memories not just of last night and this morning, but of the first time he had seen her in St. Louis, of their angry encounter on her doorstep. Of all they had experienced since then. Piah and the train. Dusty and Peg. The back of the store. Every touch, every kiss, every pleasant moment, every angry encounter, every challenge. She had fought him each step of the way for Andy, and now that she had surrendered, he had shrunk from the truth. She would hate him when he told her. He would have to win her back. He had won her over once, so he could do it again.

Footsteps echoed in the hall for the second time since she had left. Opening the door this time, he saw Otto’s back as he headed down the stairs to the lobby.

He took two steps across the narrow hall and knocked on her door. She didn’t answer.

“Kate?” he called softly as he knocked again.

Still no answer. Puzzled, he tried the door. It was locked.

“Kate? Are you in there? It’s Stephen. I need to talk to you.”

Still no answer. But there was a noise. A rustle. The splashing of water.

“Katherine. I know you’re there. We need to talk.”

The rustle again. The brass knob moved in his hand. Kate opened the door and stepped back.

Her face was ravaged with emotion. Droplets of water clung to her pale hair where she had evidently splashed water on her face. Her eyes were red and swollen.

His worst fears were reflected in their shimmering depths.

He wouldn’t have the chance to tell her.

She already knew.

He saw anger and hatred in her eyes, but there was something else, something worse. There was the anguish of betrayal.

He had asked her to trust him and then he had betrayed her. He wanted to tell her to forget everything she had heard. But she would never forget and, he feared, never forgive.

He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned and walked away from him.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. Why wouldn’t she speak? Her recriminations would be well deserved.

He had had two years to relive his decisions. He should never have allowed Lizzie to come with him to Silverton. What had he been thinking? He should have protected her. He
had
killed her as surely as if he had fired the shotgun himself. If Kate believed he had murdered Lizzie, she wasn’t far from the truth.

He could deal with Kate’s anger, argue with her hatred. But this—this silence he couldn’t bear.

“What are you going to do?” he finally asked quietly.

She shook her head as if to deny even his question.

“Kate?” he implored.

“I’m going home.” Her voice was full of tears. “I’m taking Andy and going home to St. Louis.”

He stepped toward her and she pivoted to face him.

“Did you kill her?” she asked, her voice quivering. “Did you?” She was on the verge of hysteria.

“How can you ask that?” he said.

“Answer me,” she shouted. “Did you kill her?”

“No.” It was only half the truth. He should have told her that he was responsible. But he didn’t...couldn’t.

“That’s it? A simple no?” she asked. “And I am to believe you because…?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. She pressed the palms of her hands to her temples.

“You have to trust me, Kate.”

“Trust you?”

“Lizzie trusted me, why can’t you?” As soon as he spoke the words in anger, he regretted them.

Kate’s hands fell from her temples. Her eyes were wide with hurt and disbelief. “Lizzie trusted you and she’s dead!”

Overwhelmed with guilt and shame, he found himself shouting his response. “Damn it. Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I live with that every day of my life?” He ran a hand through his hair. He struggled for anything that might calm her. What had Peg said? By not telling her, he would risk losing the one person who meant as much to him as his son. Only now did the reality of Peg’s words strike home.

“What about last night? This morning? Do you think I was lying then?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Kate shook her head, distraught.

“What about Otto? Peg and Dusty? They did not believe me capable of killing Lizzie.”

“They were not there. How can they know?”

He had never been a gambler. He had never been able to trust anyone with what he valued.

He had accused her of not trusting him. Maybe it was time he trusted her.

“I’ll give you time to think. If you believe that I killed Lizzie, I’ll make arrangements for you to return to Denver immediately.” He paused. “You can take Andy and go home to St. Louis. I won’t fight you for custody. I’ll never attempt to see Andy again.”

He forced himself to leave. The two-step journey back to his room was the longest he had ever taken. He had offered her everything she had wanted, all the while praying that she would, for reasons that defied logic, refuse.

…

Kate stared at the closed door, numb with the exchange.
What was he asking of her? She would be a fool not to return to St. Louis.
She had what she wanted.

Why would he even make such an offer?

Her head was a jumble of thoughts and accusations. She had to think. Had to make sense of it all.

She recalled every moment she’d seen Stephen with Andy. He loved the boy. No one that saw them together could dispute that. Why was he willing to let him go?

She remembered the tears in Peg’s eyes when she had first seen Stephen and Dusty’s reprimand to him. These lovely people cared for her as well. They wouldn’t risk hurting her.

She remembered Lizzie’s picture in his watch fob and the inscription in the book of poems.

None of it made any sense.

What had happened to make him change his mind about Andy? What would drive a man to give up the son he loved?

Then she knew.