The Widowed Bride. Elizabeth Lane
hear you.” Ethan smashed the bat against the ticking again and again, raising a cloud of cottony dust. What would Sam Farley say if he knew he was talking to a U.S. deputy marshal? Probably the same damn thing. The old man seemed very protective. If he knew what had happened on that mattress seconds before his knock, he’d likely be breaking out the handcuffs.
“The mayor and his son came by, Sam,” Ruby broke the awkward silence. “They invited me to dinner at the hotel. Maybe you can give me some idea what to expect.”
“The mayor?” Sam punctuated his words with a snort. “If I was a pretty woman, I’d be on my guard. Thaddeus has always had an eye for the ladies, and now that his wife’s gone to her reward, he’s like a hound off the leash. I’m guessing he sees you as a candidate for Mrs. Wilton number two. Probably licking his chops at the prospect.”
“Oh, dear. I certainly have no intention of—” Ruby shook her head. “He said he’d introduce me to some important people. And of course his son will be there. Nothing about that arrangement seems improper.”
The marshal frowned. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t go. Just warning you to be careful.”
Ruby’s head went up. Ethan caught a flicker of defiance in her blue eyes. “I’m not a child, Sam. If anything makes me feel uncomfortable, I’ll just get up and leave.”
“You do that.” The marshal nodded. “You leave and come straight to me.”
Ethan was a practiced observer of people. In Sam Farley’s eyes and voice he detected the sadness of an old man hopelessly in love with a younger woman—a man who knew he could never have her in this life. The poor devil.
But right now that wasn’t his problem, Ethan reminded himself. It had occurred to him that there might be hidden motives behind Mayor Wilton’s invitation. With Ruby at dinner the house would be left empty, giving the bootleggers a chance to move in and smuggle out their liquid treasure.
At the end of the day, he’d planned to stop by the hotel, get a meal and keep an eye on Ruby. But he couldn’t be in two places at once. The smarter choice would be to stay here and keep watch on that cellar door.
Stepping away, he let the bat slide into the grass. Suspect Everyone—that motto had always served him well. But in this case it was giving him one humdinger of a headache.
At the entrance to the hotel Ruby paused to brush a speck of dust off her dove-gray jacket. Anxious to make a proper impression, she’d dressed in a plain traveling suit and high-collared white blouse. Hollis would have called her ensemble schoolmarmish, but his opinion no longer mattered. When Ruby had packed for the move to Colorado, she’d sold her expensive pieces of jewelry and left behind most of the silken gowns her husband had favored, along with the opera-length gloves, the satin slippers and the dyed ostrich plumes that had decorated her hair. She was a different person now—businesswoman, mother and citizen of a conservative town. She was determined to look the part.
Twilight was settling over the valley. Along Main Street, shopkeepers were closing up for the day. Buggies, wagons and Model T Fords rolled their way homeward, deepening the ruts on the narrow dirt roads. The dimly lit saloon was open for billiards and card games, but business had trailed off since the recent prohibition of liquor. Clandestine spots set up in barns and backwoods cabins, where illegal whiskey flowed freely, were stealing the serious clientele.
Squaring her chin, Ruby opened the door and strode into the brightly lit hotel lobby. She’d insisted on joining the two men here. This was a business meeting, not a date, and she had no wish to create the wrong impression.
The dining room was to the left of the lobby. Ruby stood in the entry, scanning the half-filled tables. The mayor had told her that he and his son would be here by six-fifteen, but there was no sign of them. Maybe people were less concerned about punctuality in small towns. But she did feel awkward, waiting here alone.
She glanced around hoping to see Ethan. After Sam’s departure, he’d put in a hard afternoon cleaning out the upstairs rooms, making some needed repairs on the plumbing and reaming out the chimneys for the stove and fireplace. After that he’d excused himself to go back to the hotel. One would think the man would be hungry. But for whatever reason, he wasn’t here. In his absence, Ruby felt strangely vulnerable.
Her knees weakened as the memory swept over her—Ethan’s lips brushing hers, the clean, masculine aroma of his skin, the hardness of his arousal pressing her hip. The sweet terror of it…
“Mrs. Rumford?” The low voice startled her. She turned to see a pimply-faced waiter in a white shirt and black vest.
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Rumford,” she said. “I was looking for Mayor Wilton.”
“He’s expecting you. Right this way.”
The young man ushered her down a paneled hallway, past two closed doors. The third door stood ajar. After a discreet knock, the waiter spoke. “Here’s the lady, Your Honor. We’ll be bringing dinner now.”
Ruby’s senses prickled as she stepped across the threshold. The candlelit room was small and windowless. In a garish attempt at elegance, the walls had been covered in red satin brocade. A gold velvet chaise occupied one side of the room. A circular dining table with a white cloth took up the rest of the space. There were two place settings and two chairs. In one of the chairs sat His Honor Mayor Thaddeus Wilton.
“My dear Mrs. Rumford. How delightful to have your company this evening.” He rose from his place, his manner so unctuous that Ruby feared he was going to bow and kiss her hand.
She glanced uneasily around the room. “I thought your son would be joining us,” she said.
“Oh, Harper had some urgent business come up. He asked me to extend his apologies. Please have a seat. As the owner of this hotel, I took the liberty of ordering for you. The roast beef is excellent here.”
He stood while the waiter pulled out Ruby’s chair. Ruby remained on her feet. “I’d prefer to eat in the dining room,” she said.
“I quite understand, my dear.” His thumb stroked a link of his gold watch chain, its motion slow and sensuous. “But most of the tables have already been reserved. Besides, with so much chatter in there, you can barely hear yourself think, let alone carry on a proper conversation. Please sit down. As a respectable widower and trusted public official, I can promise your reputation will be quite safe.”
Ruby hesitated, then lowered herself to the edge of the chair. What alternative did she have—walk out on an influential man who could help her make friends, insulting him in the process? That would hardly be wise. Besides, she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She was ravenously hungry, and while the aromas wafting down the hall from the kitchen didn’t quite seem to live up to the mayor’s extravagant praise, they still triggered a growl in her stomach.
What harm could come to her here? If the mayor made an improper move, all she had to do was get up and leave. Ruby forced a smile as she settled back into her chair. She could handle this, she told herself. Still, she couldn’t shake the idea that this meeting was some kind of high-stakes game. And Thaddeus Wilton was holding the trump cards.
Ethan returned to the boardinghouse at dusk, taking the backstreets and cutting through a weeded lot. Moving aside two loose boards, he slipped through the fence and into the backyard.
Tonight he was armed with his .38 Smith & Wesson revolver, and his U.S. marshals badge was pinned to his vest. He didn’t plan to arrest anyone if he could help it. It was too soon for that. But in case all hell broke loose, he wanted the authority of his office made plain.
Pausing next to the six-foot fence, he scanned the yard for a hiding place. He’d considered watching from the safety and relative comfort of an upstairs room. But Ruby could easily discover him there; and a view from above wouldn’t allow him to see faces, hear what was being said or, if necessary, trail after suspects when they left. For that he would need to be as close as possible.
The moon was a thin silver edge above the peaks.