Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33) (13 page)

They’d been motoring along for a good five minutes
when another steamboat appeared, headed toward them. Rand used the lantern off
the bow to signal it. Someone on board signaled back. Both boats slowed and
edged close enough for two men to jump across. Then the other boat sped away.

“Sir.”

He didn’t recognize them, but it was dark. “What
have you got?”

“We took the liberty of persuading the captain of
the little boat to leave Harrigan stranded on MacPhee’s ship.”

“They’re all still aboard,” said the second man, “haggling
over the purchase price of MacPhee’s dingy.”

Even better than what he had planned.

Hang on, Darby. I’m coming.

~ ~ ~

Captain Simon MacPhee stood six and a half feet
tall, and that was only when slouching and drunk. Out of necessity, every man
looked up to him, while no man admired him. To him, however, the former meant
the latter and he enjoyed the delusion that every man wanted to make him happy.

Therefore, he wasn’t surprised when the Phantom
arrived in the middle of the night, silver, molded smile in place, eager to
make him an offer he would like.

“By all means,” said the giant from the quarter
deck, “let’s hear what ye’re sellin’.”

Rand gave the man a bow while surreptitiously
searching for Harrigan. Men recoiled a bit as he walked past, flashing his
silver smile as he made his way. At the top of the steps, he came to stand
before MacPhee and his first mate, Larson—another tall man who looked more
Swedish than Scots.

Rand gave both men a nod. “I have three strapping,
able-bodied men—”

MacPhee shook his head, disappointed. “I’ve no
openings at present—”

“Whom I will
give
to you…”

The man quirked a brow. “What’s that?”

Rand ignored the stare from Jez, who had just
caught up to him. “In exchange for the Scotswoman.”

MacPhee grinned in understanding. Then pretended
disappointment again. “I have no woman to give ye, Phantom. Scottish or
otherwise.”

Rand didn’t have to worry about schooling his
features because of the mask, but his eyes could still give him away, so he
tried to remain as unemotional and disinterested as possible.

“Harrigan didn’t sell her to you yet?”

The giant laughed. “Harrigan said ye’d be coming
for her because she’s yer wife.”

Rand laughed too. “Not mine, no. But I did plan to
sell her back to the poor fool who got suckered into marrying
a Scottish
female
.”

MacPhee sobered as if he’d been struck across the
face.

Rand raised a hand and brushed the comment aside. “No
offense to your mother, sir.”

The giant still frowned. “The lass is no’ for
sale.”

Rand shrugged. “All right. I won’t lose much
anyway. I might have sold her for the same I’ll get from these other three. It’s
not like I’d sacrifice anything to get her.” He turned and waved Jez to precede
him down the steps.

“Wait, Phantom.”

Rand turned back and put an impatient hand on his
hip.

MacPhee nodded. “I think perhaps I would like to
buy something from ye after all, aye?”

“Oh? You want to see the men?”

The giant’s head shook. “No. I want to buy yer
mask.”

Rand tilted his head. “And I’m afraid it’s not for
sale.”

“Well, then, since we’ve both got something beyond
price, perhaps a trade is in order.”

Rand laughed. “I suppose…if the lass were my wife,
I would welcome that trade. But she’s not. And for all I know, you don’t even
have her in your possession as yet.” He turned to leave again, making sure to
look men in the eye as he went, striking fear wherever he could. And he caught
enough eyes darting to his right to know where Harrigan was hiding.

Jez prepared to leave. She tried and failed to
hide the relief on her face. But Rand was sure either the giant or Harrigan
would stop them before they got off the ship.

“I’m afraid my curiosity has roused, Phantom,”
called the captain. “And though ye have my leave to go, the mask must stay, ye
ken?”

Rand knew the man wouldn’t make such a threat if
he believed they would be doing business in the future, so Harrigan must have
already convinced him the Phantom’s days were numbered.

It was time to turn the tables.

Rand faced the giant again and chuckled. “I’ll
tell you what,” he finally said, ignoring the crew members trying to get up the
courage to stop him. “You tell Harrigan to come take it off me.” He chuckled
again in real amusement. “If he weren’t such a mouse, I’d let him try. But I’m
afraid the man hasn’t got the spine to fight his own battles.”

“Happy to oblige,
Judge,
” Harrigan crooned
and stepped out of the shadows.

“Why, Harrigan. Is that you?” Rand laughed. “I
guess, since you can’t rest in peace until you’ve seen under my mask, you’ll
just have to rest
in pieces
.” His wicked Bowie knife appeared in his
hand with barely a thought.

“To the death, then,” the captain bellowed.

Rand stepped back and shook his head. “I won’t
fight for nothing. If I win, I get the girl.”

“But then what will I have?” MacPhee descended the
steps and came to stand between them. “What will you give me in return?”

Rand pretended to consider for a few seconds. “A
little entertainment…and two of the men I mentioned.”

“That sounds fair,” Larson shouted, then laughed
along with the crew.

MacPhee frowned. “And why not the third man?”

Rand pointed at Harrigan. “Because I don’t think
he’s going to survive.”

The captain’s voice boomed with laughter and he nodded
as he stepped back against the rail next to Jez and folded his arms over his
high chest.

Harrigan produced a blade much like Rand’s and
waved it back and forth, taunting. “If I remove the mask with my knife, I hope
we can still recognize you,
Judge
.”

“It’s high time for one of us to retire anyway,”
Rand said. “Haven’t you had your fill of serving up innocents to feed this
bastard?” He gestured to MacPhee. “How many people have you sold into slavery,
Harrigan. Have you ever thought to count?”

“Count?” The man lunged and sliced air where Rand’s
belly had been. “I’ve sold hundreds just since you showed up two years ago, and
I still can’t manage a mansion on the side of the mountain, like yours.”

“Then you’re spending it wrong.” Rand moved in
quickly, sliced the man’s shirt open from collar to belly button, then
retreated before the man ever brought his blade forward. It was then Rand read
the real fear in Harrigan’s eyes and he laughed. “Maybe, if you’d fought a few
of your own battles lately, you might have a chance.”

When Harrigan started leaking blood from both
forearms, he had to have known he wouldn’t win the fight. And that was when he
became truly dangerous. So Rand retreated two steps. He needed to get the man
talking again, keep him distracted.

“And this bastard?” Rand nodded toward the
captain. “How many have you sold to MacPhee alone?”

The giant chuckled. “Ye wish to compare records,
Phantom? Then I’d say Harrigan sells me four to every one of yers.”

Harrigan grinned.

“But yers are worth much more.”

Harrigan’s smile fell away. His eyes flashed just
before he lunged, and Rand was able to step aside and shove the man and his
blade in MacPhee’s direction.

The captain relocated behind a crew member for
safety. Harrigan took a moment to breathe deeply.

“I think that’s enough,” Rand shouted. “Don’t you?”

Two dozen policemen poured over the rails on each
side of the ship. With all the posturing on deck, no one had noticed the
officers climbing out of the steamboat that was still tied alongside the ship.
The crew members were herded up against the bow while Harrigan and MacPhee were
held at gunpoint.

“Plenty of witnesses, I’d say, sir.” The police
captain stood next to Rand and smiled.

“What about him?” Harrigan blustered in outrage
while his hands were tied behind his back. “Take off his mask. You’ll see. It’s
Rand Beauregard. He’s the Phantom!”

Rand reached up and unlatched the mask, then
slipped the ties from behind his head. Harrigan watched, transfixed, while he
pulled the mask from his face.

“Of course it’s the Commissioner,” the sergeant
said, showing no surprise. “The Phantom allowed us to use his costume. We’ve
been planning this for a while now.” He turned and gave Rand a wink. “And what
about the crew, sir?”

Rand looked at Larson. “Let them go. Most of them
were shanghaied in the first place. And Larson there has agreed to hire new
crew, not buy it.” He shrugged. “At least, he won’t be shopping for slaves along
our shores.”

Larson put a finger alongside his nose. As good as
a handshake.

“Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If you’ll take these criminals and go, I still
have business to take care of here.”

A few minutes later, the steamboat pushed away
from the ship, and with a promise to send another boat to collect them, the
sergeant and his men took away the two banes of Rand’s existence. When word got
out that the Phantom had disposed of his two most powerful nemeses, he would
rule the underground unchallenged. He could clean it up so that no one would
recognize it again.

“I’d like to see my wife now,” he told Larson. And
while another man went to fetch her, Rand went to Jez and put an arm around her
shoulder. “It’s almost over,” he whispered.

Jez said nothing.

The sailor returned from beneath the quarter deck
with wide eyes. His mouth opened, but he said nothing as he stepped close to
Larson. Behind him came Porter with his arms behind his head. He looked ill and
his eyes widened in fear when he saw Rand standing in the Phantom’s costume but
with his mask in his hands.

Next came Shadow with a shotgun trained at Porter’s
back. He glanced at Rand and gave a slight nod. With the barrel of his weapon,
he suggested that Porter stand against the mast, which he did.

Finally, Darby emerged from the shadows. Dressed
in dark clothing, her face seemed to float out of the darkness. Her eyes
remained downcast and she stepped next to the rail, wrapped her arms around
herself, and waited.

Rand stepped toward her, Jez in tow. But he stopped,
surprised, when she visibly stiffened. He thought she hadn’t noticed he was on
board.

“Go on, Jez,” he said nice and clear. “Tell Darby how
you betrayed her tonight.”

Rand fought the urge to throttle the woman he’d
counted on for the past two years. She’d meant more than just a bedmate and a
business partner, but it was impossible to see her as anything but the enemy
now.

Jez’s eyes flew wide with guilt and she tried to
wiggle out of Rand’s grasp, but he held her tight. Finally, she spun away and
ended up standing in front of Darby.

“Tell her,” he said again.

Jez was spitting mad. “It’s not my fault she
wouldn’t drink it, Rand. If she’d have just taken the drink I offered, it
wouldn’t have come to this.”

Darby looked up at her. Jez’s eyes were full of
warning.

“We never spoke tonight, until now,” Darby said. “I
did see you though. Just after I was locked in the cage. You laughed, then you
disappeared.” She looked away again, staring into the shadows like she’d like
to crawl into them and disappear.

He could feel her pain clearly, as if someone had
stuck a knife in his belly and twisted it. But he had to press on. He would
never get near her until she understood all that Jez was responsible for,
although there would be plenty of blame to lay at his own feet, too.

“Darby,” he said gently, “who took you to the
cage? I need you to tell me.”

Foster’s eyes bulged and he looked nervously from
Rand to Shadow’s gun.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Two men. Bad teeth.”

Foster relaxed.

“After Foster dropped me through the hole in the
floor, they picked me up off the mattresses and led me to the cage.”

Rand strode to Shadow and took the offered gun,
then struck Foster in the face with the butt of it. He tried not to put all his
rage into the blow because he wanted Foster to live…and he needed to save some
of that rage for the woman.

Jez used the distraction to try and get over the
rail, but Darby stopped her with a hand twisted in her skirts. Rand was
relieved there was some fight left in her.

Jez gave up the tug of war, looked at him, and
lifted her chin. “You love me, Rand. Tell her. You needed her gone. Admit it.
And I had it all taken care of.”

“You let Elton out,” he said. “What did you tell
him, Jezebel?”

She winced at the use of her name. He’d usually
called her Jezebel when they were alone together. And it was that slap in the
face that finally convinced her it was over.

“I told him it was you who planned to sell her to
MacPhee.”

How she must have hated him!

“I trusted you with the most important job there
was, to tell Darby it was all just a show for Harrigan. But you convinced Elton
I was the real monster and told him where to find her.”

Darby suddenly caught Jez by the arm and dragged
her around to face her. “Elton, and Masters, and who knows how many others are
dead because of you!”

Darby hauled back and struck Jez hard enough to
spin her head off her shoulders. After she hit the deck, Darby got on her hands
and knees and reached for Jez’s hand.

Still reeling from the news of his dead men, Rand
finally understood what Darby was searching for and closed the distance
quickly.

“Looking for this?” He held the little ring
between his fingers and offered it to Darby, along with a hand to help her up.
She glanced at his face, took his hand, and stood. She then plucked the ring
from his fingers. Two long strides took her to the railing where she glanced at
him again.

“With my blessing,” he said.

She pulled her arm back for the second time and
hurled the ring into the river with as much force as she’d used to strike Jez.
Then she stood still, watching the dark waves, thinking who knows what.

Larson cleared his throat. “I think I should have
my payment now,” he said. “Before it, too, ends up in the drink.”

Rand pointed to Foster. “A little worse for wear,
I’m afraid. The second and third are on their way to jail.”

Larson nodded toward Jez in question.

“You can’t do it!” Jez fumbled to her feet,
fighting her fancy skirts. She reached for Rand and pulled on his shirt. “Darling,
please! You can’t!”

“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t.” He teased her
with a little relief before he continued. “But I’m afraid there is not room in
Portland for you, Jez. No room in Oregon or Washington either.”

She straightened away from him and smoothed her
skirts over her hips, all begging abandoned. “It will take time for me to get
my affairs in order—”

“No. You’re wrong. It won’t take any time at all.”
He exchanged a look with Larson, who nodded. “Larson will drop you somewhere.”
To the man he said, “No one will touch her, is that clear?”

Larson nodded, disappointed. Rand fished a pouch
of gold coins from inside his vest and threw it to him. “That should make up
for any losses.”

While a couple of crew members led Jez, spitting
and fighting, into the shadows, Rand joined Darby at the rail. A small
steamboat, with a light on its bow, left the waterfront and headed their way.

It was time to face the dread head on.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for all of it. I
should have taken the time to explain to Elton what was really going on. I… I
should have done a lot of things. I wish there were a more eloquent way to say
it, but there isn’t. And I couldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave Oregon
behind and never look back.”

She nodded. “It’s a good thing I never signed that
contract, isn’t it?”

He was thrilled she would even speak to him!

“Yes. As a matter of fact, it is. I had a change
of heart almost immediately after I offered it.”

She turned her head away. “You did?” Her voice was
little more than a whisper.

“Yes. I did. Because…”

Just tell her the truth!

“The truth is…fifteen years wouldn’t have been
long enough.”

Her head turned back and she frowned. A darling
little ridge formed between her brows. “No long enough?”

He stepped closer, and when she didn’t balk, he
carefully raised his arms and wrapped them gently around her shoulders. She was
shaking. They both were shaking, so he extended his cloak to enclose then
together.

“I’m afraid the only number that seemed
reasonable,” he said, “you’d never agree to.”

“Oh? Aye? And what number would that be?” She
searched his eyes, glanced at his lips, then licked her own.

In no shape to refuse the invitation, he pressed
his lips to hers before answering. She returned the kiss, more than just
tolerated it. And when he was finally able to speak, he asked, “How does a
hundred sound, Mrs. Beauregard?”

She gave her head a quick shake. “Auch, I don’t
know. How many of those years can ye stand to live with a Scot?”

He closed one eye and thought for a second or two,
then nodded. “No more than a hundred and one, at most.”

She gave him a narrow look that said she didn’t
trust him. “You only want me beside you so you can win the governor’s seat—and save
lives.” She rolled her eyes like saving lives was a bad thing, then smiled
faintly.

“No, Darby.” He pulled her face close and kissed the
top of her head. He breathed in the perfume of her hair, her skin. “I want you
by my side because you are life to me.”