Pemberley Ranch (26 page)

“Yeah? When?”

“Soon.”

“What’s that about your mother? I thought you said you was an orphan.”

“That means Elton’s available for a meeting.”

“So, you goin’?”

Whitehead nodded, his face studying Denny’s countenance. A sudden idea came to him. “Why don’t you come with me? That way you can talk to Elton yourself—see how things are going. What about it?”

Collins perked up. “All of us?”

“No, you need to stay here to help keep Burroughs and Phillips happy. It’ll just be Denny and me with a couple of riders.”

“What about… her?” Pyke asked, pointing a finger upstairs.

“That’s your job,” Whitehead said easily, betraying the tension he felt when talking about the girl. “Keep her out of sight. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” sneered Denny, “keep my property well looked after. Just don’t look
too
close, partner,” he added, patting his holstered gun.

Collins started to open his mouth, but whatever he was going to say, he thought better of it. Whitehead didn’t need to hear it, anyway, for the banker was only going to voice what had been running through his own mind. The girl had become a distraction and a threat. Things were too important; the money and the power that would come with it were too damn close to chance that she would be discovered.

Denny walked to the window. “When do you wanna leave? Been raining hard for two days. Roads will be muddy for sure.”

“As soon as it stops. We’ll go on horseback rather than the carriage. Be faster.”

Yes
, Whitehead thought,
the faster I get to Fort Worth to get my update from Elton, the faster I can get back here and tie up all loose ends. And that includes the girl. Denny will just have to find another toy. Lily Bennet needs to disappear for good.

It didn’t stop raining until after Darcy returned to Pemberley. The next evening he learned from his spies in town that Whitehead, Denny, and a couple of riders had left that morning for Fort Worth.

Ironic
, he thought.
Another day and we might have met on the road. I wonder what would have happened. Would Whitehead and his
party have just passed by, or would we have settled this thing out there in the wilderness once and for all?
Darcy knew he wouldn’t have started anything, but he also knew he was prepared to end it.

He forced himself to stop thinking of Whitehead; he had more pressing issues on his mind. The storms had scattered his cattle all over the range. Every hand was needed for the roundup. He knew he had days in the saddle before him.

It would only delay the confrontation with Cate Burroughs.

The rains may have stopped, but the river kept rising as the storm waters flowed into Rosings Creek and the Long Branch. Higher and higher the river rose, turning Thompson Crossing into a raging torrent. Downriver, the townspeople watched the single bridge across the river with concern, hoping it wouldn’t fail. It survived, but just barely.

The same couldn’t be said for the abandoned homesteads in the new settlement. The long-timers’ predictions rang true when the Long Branch overflowed its banks, inundating the bottomland and the houses that stood like lonely sentinels. They were flooded one by one, and a few, like the Washingtons’ place, could not stand the deluge and were swept away.

One old wag opined that God Himself was cleaning the foul stench of the crime that had been committed there. Publicly, most scoffed at the idea, but it was telling that, for generations, folks in Long Branch County would consider the site haunted.

October 31

T
HE DAYS WERE GROWING
shorter as October ended, but the air still held a hint of summer’s warmth. Therefore, Charlotte was not chilled as she carefully walked home from the jail, the streets still damp and slightly muddy from the rains that had fallen for the past week, and she was able to lose herself in thoughts of Fitz. Her progress was halted by a loud noise, and she turned to observe some of Denny’s men entering Younge’s Saloon, singing and cursing. Charlotte frowned, wondering again why Rosings tolerated such an establishment. She looked up and down the muddy street at the storefronts and shops, at the banks and the church, at the new schoolhouse going up. All signs that the town was leaving its frontier roots. Even Whitehead’s building, next to Younge’s, spoke of the future—

Charlotte froze.

Looking from a second-floor window in Whitehead’s building was a young, blonde woman. Her face was painted and her clothes could only be described as indecent, but Charlotte recognized the girl beneath the harlot. A moment later, the woman
turned from the window, responding to a voice within the room. Then a man’s arm drew the curtains closed.

Charlotte blinked. A less self-assured person might have thought the sighting had never happened, but Miss Lucas was nothing if not confident. She looked about to see if her response was of note to anyone on the street. Assured of her safety, she quickly returned to her father’s office.

“Charlotte, are you
certain
of this?” cried Sheriff Lucas.

Charlotte rubbed her forehead, weary of the interrogation. “Yes, Paw. It was Lily Bennet. I know it! It was her!”

“Maybe we oughta go and take a peek,” Deputy Smith offered helpfully. He blanched at the look his boss threw at him.

“I’m still not convinced it was the Bennet girl,” Sheriff Lucas insisted. “Perhaps it was a trick of the light—”

“Paw!” Charlotte cried. “I know what I saw! It was Lily Bennet looking out a window in George Whitehead’s building not thirty minutes ago. I know it as sure as I’m sitting here. Why do you insist I didn’t see what I saw? Are you afraid?”

“
Yes!
” Lucas shouted as he leapt to his feet. “Yes, I am, and so should you be! Do you understand what’ll happen if I go stormin’ in there? Do you want Denny and his gang shootin’ up the town? Three lawmen against a dozen trained killers? There are more things to think about than one foolish girl!”

Charlotte stared at the two men in shock. Her father was flushed while Smith would not meet her eye. “Paw—”

Lucas cut her off. “No more, Charlotte. Not another word. I’ve said my piece. Now, get yourself back to the house. Smith, go walk her home.”

“No, Paw. It’s not necessary. I can find my own way home. To be honest, I’d rather not suffer your company, or Smith’s, any more than I have to tonight.” Charlotte did not wait to hear her father’s response, as she was out the door the next instant. But she did not head towards their house at the edge of town. Instead, she made her way to the livery stable.

As usual at Pemberley, the Darcys had their supper early and had their top hands join them. They were half-finished with their meal, and José was in the middle of an amusing story about a priest and a rabbi in a saloon, when Reynaldo approached the table.

“
Señor
Darcy, there is a young woman here to see
Señor
Fitz.”

Both men exchanged confused glances before Darcy told his butler to escort the lady in. The confusion was doubled as Charlotte was introduced.

“Miss Lucas,” Darcy greeted her, “you are very welcome, but may I ask why you’re here—alone, I take it? Has something happened to your father?”

The agitated girl shook her head. “No, no, he’s fine. Please excuse me, Miss Gaby, but I have to talk to Fitz right now!” She glanced at Darcy. “And, perhaps, you too, Mr. Will.”

Darcy looked at Fitz. “Very well, shall we adjourn to my study?”

“Charlotte, are you
certain
of this?” cried Fitz.

“Of course, I am!” she returned with some heat. “Do you think I rode all this way in the evening to tell you tales?”

William turned from staring out the window. “Miss Lucas, please calm yourself. We believe you. It’s just… so…
fantastic.” He turned back to gaze outside. “All this time we’ve been looking for her and she’s been right under our noses.” He sighed.

“This changes things, Will,” said Fitz. “What’re we going to do?”

“What do you mean?” Charlotte cried. “Aren’t you going to help her? Are you scared of Whitehead, too?”

Fitz tried to soothe her. “Charlotte, please, if Miss Lily went there of her own free will… well… what
can
we do?”

“Tell her family,” said Darcy quietly. “They deserve to know. But,” he turned to face the room, “I want to make certain that Miss Lily did go there and wishes to stay there voluntarily. Miss Charlotte, you said she looked… how?”

The girl thought. “Sad… frightened. She was scared of the man in the room.”

Darcy nodded. “That’s good enough for me. I’m going into town. Fitz?”

Fitz jumped to his feet, still holding Charlotte’s hand. “Of course I’m comin’! But I think we’re goin’ to need some help.”

Darcy was already moving to his gun case. “Four men—no more. We leave in five minutes.” He belted on his Colt. “Whitehead and Denny are out of town. We ride light.”

Darkness had fully fallen by the time the riders from Pemberley reached Rosings. Over the protests of Fitz, they made their way to the sheriff’s office rather than storming the Whitehead building. Dismounting, Darcy, Fitz, and Charlotte went inside.

“Evening, Sheriff,” Darcy said, while Fitz only glared at his girl’s father.

“Darcy,” Lucas returned before he spoke to Charlotte. “I thought I told you to go home—”

Fitz interrupted him. “She was doin’
your
job, Lucas!”

The sheriff got to his feet while Deputy Smith watched uncomfortably. “You can’t speak to me like that in front of my daughter, Fitzwilliam! She ain’t your wife—yet—and never will be, if I have my say about it!”

“Stop it, both of you!” cried Charlotte.

“Miss Charlotte is right,” Darcy agreed. “We’ve got more important things to discuss than courtship.” The other two men were properly embarrassed. “I understand that Lily Bennet’s been seen in Whitehead’s place. My men and I are going over there to talk to her. What I want to know is if you’re going to join us.”

Lucas looked Darcy dead in the eye. “You know what this means?”

“I do.”

“You gonna see this all the way through? You and all your men?”

Darcy glanced at the floor. “I wasn’t ready before, but I am now.” He returned Lucas’s stare. “All the way. You either help or get out of the way. This is war.”

Lucas sat back, considering. “Aw, hell.” He shook his head. “I guess I ain’t gonna live forever. Smith!”

The deputy jumped. “Yessir!”

“Go to the hotel and get Jones. Tell ’em I need him here. We’re payin’ a call on Mr. Whitehead.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sheriff Lucas and Darcy approached the front door of the Whitehead building along with one of
the Pemberley riders. Oil lamps on either side of the door lit the entrance. Lucas moved to knock on the door and said, “Last chance to back out, Darcy.” Darcy gestured at the door and Lucas pounded on the doorframe. “Hello in there! This is Sheriff Lucas! Open up!”

There was some noise and voices. Lucas banged again, and a moment later, Sally Younge opened the door. “What can I do for you, Sheriff… Mr. Darcy!? What are
you
doing here?”

“Sally, fancy seeing you here,” drawled Lucas. “Who’s minding the saloon?”

Darcy was grim. “Younge, we’re here to see Miss Lily Bennet. Don’t bother lying; we know she’s here. Bring her to us immediately.”

Her face losing all color, Younge barred the way. “I… I don’t know what you mean. Look, Mr. Whitehead ain’t here. You can’t come in—”

Darcy brushed the woman aside and moved into the front hall, the others close behind. Younge was still squawking her protests when there was a loud crash from the rear of the building. Without hesitation, the three men ran towards the back door. In the alleyway between Whitehead’s and the saloon, they beheld a young blond woman in a dressing gown between Deputy Smith and Fitz, while two Pemberley riders had their guns drawn on one of Denny’s gang.