The Fall of Rome (29 page)

She massaged her chest and squeezed back tears. “I can’t think straight when you say things like that.”

“I don’t want you to think. I want you to feel.” He quirked one of his devilish smiles. “Come on, Kat. I thought you had an adventurous streak. Call me. Take a leap of faith. All in.”

She blew out a breath and quirked a shaky smile. “All in.” He kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with bone- deep passion. He checked himself when he lost track of time, bounded off the bed and wrenched open the door. “Come on in, Preacher.”

Kat had never given her wedding day extended thought. After her fallout with Rome six years ago, she’d pretty much given up on the idea of marriage, period. The few times she had dared to imagine, the ceremony had been simple, but she’d never imagined anything like this. Married in a hotel room by a preacher who looked like he’d been dragged out of bed and coerced into the proceedings.

No witnesses. No certificate. Was it even legal? It certainly didn’t seem real. Kat had stated her vows in some sort of daze. She wasn’t sure if the floating feeling was due to euphoria or lack of sleep. If it weren’t for the gold band on her finger, she’d chalk the episode up to a dream.

No sooner had Preacher Davis pronounced them man and wife when a knock came at the door. Rome moved into the hall, the preacher shook her hand and wished her luck, and suddenly she was standing alone contemplating her brush with insanity. For surely she’d been two cards shy of a deck to marry Rome Garrett in the midst of a crisis.

“You all right, Kat?” he asked as he reentered the room. “You look a little shaky.”

“I’m just. . . Did we just. . .”

“We did.”

She fingered the gold band. “So I’m ...”

“My wife.” He kissed her forehead, pressed a telegram in her hand. “Read this.”

She shook off her shock to focus on the words. A note from London. “B and cargo home safe and sound,” she read aloud. “No sign of the snake.” Her knees gave way. Rome caught her and guided her to the bed.

She felt faint with relief as she sat on the edge of the mattress. Her heart thudded against her ribs, and her voice came out a strained croak. “Frankie’s safe with your family.”

“
Our
family.” He took the wire from her trembling hands and read on. “Two PMs arrived this morning. Local law on alert. Security high. Watch your own back.” He pointed out the last line. “This part’s for you, sugar.”

She focused and read. “Tell Kat the kid’s happy, but says hurry up.” She swallowed and looked at Rome with misty eyes. “That’s her way of saying she misses me.”

He smiled and traced his thumb over her cheek. “Then we best
hurry up
”

For the first time she noticed the weariness about his eyes. She tugged at his hand, urging him to sit next to her. “You’ve slept even less than I have, Rome. You rented this room, and you didn’t even make use of the bed.”

He pocketed the telegram, then clasped her hand. “Didn’t rent the room for rest. Rented it for a wedding. Call me sentimental.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Or maybe superstitious.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Remind me later to tell you a story about my sister.”

Her lips quirked. “All right.” Her smile slipped when it registered that Paris was now her sister-in-law and that Rome’s brothers . . . She’d married into a big family. Frankie was with most of them now. Because of a lack of male influence, Kat imagined her idolizing Boston and London. She’d probably already bonded with Zach and Zoe, and if Kaila was as nice as they all made her sound... No wonder Frankie was
happy
. She’d gotten her heart’s desire--to be with family.

Feeling queasy, Kat pressed a hand to her stomach. Now instead of aching to be in Phoenix, she dreaded it. She believed Rome when he said he’d love Frankie, no matter what. At least she believed he’d try. But what if he couldn’t? What if she had to walk away, just her and Frankie? Just the two of them. Would Frankie be able to forgive her for ripping her away from the only “family” she’d ever known?

“What the hell, Kat? You look like you’re going to pass out.” He pressed her back onto the bed. “I know it’s been a taxing journey. I just didn’t realize how much of a toll it took on you. I’m sorry, sugar.”

“I’m all right. Just . . . overwhelmed.”

“Lie still. We can afford an hour or two.” He stretched out beside her and maneuvered her into a spooning position. He stroked her arm and spoke close to her ear. “Frankie is well protected. Peacemakers and local lawmen are patrolling Phoenix. Even if Brady doesn’t hit town, he’s as good as caught.”

“He’s always eluded the law in the past. What makes you think this time will end differently?”

“Because he’s letting his personal feelings muck up his judgment.”

She wondered if the same could be said for Rome and herself. “You make it sound like it’s all over.”

“On the contrary, sugar.” He kissed the back of her neck, caressed her ringed finger. “It’s only just begun.”

Gila Gulch

For a spell there, Brady had worried his luck had run out. Train robbery gone awry. Gunshot wound. The gang two men down from lucky seven. But then he’d sought out an old acquaintance, a power-hungry cattleman with helpful ties, Newt Gaffey.

Turned out Gaffey was not only willing to give Brady shelter, but also to be his eyes and ears in Phoenix. Not him personally, but two of his men. A couple of bad-egg cowboys who could circulate without raising suspicion. All Brady had to do was pay them handsomely for their trouble.

As for Gaffey, the only reward he wanted was to see the Garretts crushed. Two weeks past, Rome had killed his right-hand gunman, Wild-Man Dan. Boston had intimidated the local marshal, a man on Gaffey’s payroll, and London, along with the county sheriff, had dared to ride onto his ranch and issue a thinly veiled threat.

“No one crosses me without paying the consequences”
he’d said, to which Brady responded,
“I knew there was a reason we got on.”

Shacked up in an abandoned adobe on the outer fringes of Gaffey’s property for the second day in a row, Brady played cards with Boyd to pass the time. The laudanum had dulled the pain in his shoulder, but the fever persisted. Brady was cranky and anxious, wondering what was going down in Phoenix. “The suspense is killing me.”

“Gaffey seemed confident of his men’s abilities,” said Boyd. “You showed them the image of the kid, described Kat. You offered them a staggering reward should they help Itchy and Mule deliver one or both to you. I’m thinking since they haven’t returned by now, they’re waiting until nightfall to act. I’m thinking in a few hours you’ll be receiving a delivery.” “Hence the suspense. Kat? Frankie? Or both?”

Boyd eased back in his chair, rolled a cigarette. His silence grated.

“What?”

“If it’s the kid . . .”

“Spit it out.”

“I’m all for obliterating the Garretts. Don’t begrudge you wanting to square things with your woman. But dragging a little girl along with us?”

Brady shuffled the dog-eared cards. “Just need to get her over the Mexican border.”

“That’s a good long ride, Bulls-Eye.”

“I’m aware. Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I believe you. Just saying. Long ride.”

“I got that.”

“Every lawman in the Territory will be on our tails.”

“Think of it as a challenge.”

Boyd fired up his smoke and studied the hand Brady dealt him.

Brady gnashed his teeth. “Something else on your mind?”

“Elroy. Don’t think he’ll be coming back.”

“He’ll be back. You rode into Gila Gulch with him yesterday. He didn’t try to run off or contact anyone. You vouched he kept to himself while you purchased food supplies and that one measly bottle of laudanum.”

“That’s all we could lay our hands on.”

“Like I said, I need more. That and whiskey.”

“You should’ve sent me.”

“You and your steady gun hand are more valuable here. Besides, Elroy was getting on my nerves, pacing like a nervous Nellie.” In addition, Brady wanted him to pick up a gift for Frankie. He didn’t feel comfortable asking that of Boyd. Didn’t want the man to think he was soft. But, dammit, he couldn’t leave go of the possibility that he’d fathered a child with the only woman who’d ever possessed his heart. He massaged his chest, rolled his sore shoulder. Desperate not to think on Kat, he focused back on his cousin. “He’ll be back. He ain’t got nowhere else to go.”

Phoenix

“Just about now, I’d welcome a disturbance of any kind,” Josh said. “A drunk using that cactus as target practice. Paris going into labor.” Cheroot stabbed between his fingers, he blew out a stream of smoke, rolling his eyes when feminine voices rose in disagreement, then just as suddenly burst into laughter.

London’s lips twitched as he lazed against one of the veranda’s posts. Boston had run upstairs to check on Zach, Zoe, and Frankie, while London and Josh had stepped outside for some fresh air.

“They window-shopped half the day,” Josh went on, “and spent the other half of the day at the Cafe Poppy sampling pastries and cakes and they
still
can’t decide on decorations and refreshments.”

“Stop bellyaching, Grant. At least they’re happy and distracted. If they weren’t chattering about the wedding reception, they’d be worrying about Athens and Seth.”

Josh crushed his cheroot under the heel of his boot. “Hell, I’m concerned about those two. Why the devil were they delayed in Fulton?”

“Since Athens didn’t elaborate in his telegram, your guess is as good as mine. He said they’d be here as soon as possible. Said Rome would explain.”

“And we’re expecting him ...”

“Any minute now? Tomorrow morning?” London gazed out in the dusk, hoping they’d arrive like Boston and Frankie, safe and sound, under the cloak of night. “Like I said, they wired from Florence. Guess it depends on how hard they’re pushing or if they run into any trouble.”

“Trouble being Brady.”

“He’s out there somewhere, biding his time, scheming. I don’t know. But he didn’t set foot in Phoenix today. And you heard Marshal Clancy. No reports of any suspicious activity. What’s more, Tori kept her eyes peeled and she didn’t spot any of the gang.”

“That wife of yours,” Josh said. “For a quiet one, she’s sure got a boodle of gumption.”

“That she does.”

“Gets on real well with Frankie, too. They were practically joined at the hip today.”

London raised a brow. “You driving at something?”

Josh shrugged. “Just that it might be nice if my kid had a cousin close in age.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced at the lawman. “Anxious for that little one to come along, Josh?”

“Anxious for it to be over with.”

London clapped a hand to his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “Paris is tough and ornery, and she’s going to sail through this just fine. Her and the baby both.”

Just then Boston joined them on the veranda.

“Kids okay?” London asked.

“Zach’s reading a dime novel, and Zoe and Frankie are playing with Sparkles.”

“Sparkles?” Josh asked.

“Zoe’s imaginary friend,” London said.

“She’s a tree fairy,” said Boston.

Josh grinned. “Ah.”

“So, Frankie can see Sparkles?” London asked.

Boston spread his hands. “Apparently. Which makes those two girls fast friends.”

Josh narrowed his eyes, sniffed. “Smell that?”

London tensed at the familiar acrid scent. “Smoke.” Boston stepped into the street, looked north. “This ain’t good.”

London saw it, too. An eerie glow coming from the center of town. Teddy came barreling down the street. “London. Come quick,” he heaved. “Last Chance is on fire, and I think Mrs. Chen is inside.”

“Parker!”

The ghostly Peacemaker appeared out of nowhere. “Sir?”

“Go in the house. Watch over the women and children. Do
not
let them try to come and help.”

“Yes, sir.”

London took off at a sprint, Josh and Boston on his heels. His barkeep ran alongside, as they utilized shortcuts. All he could think about was Mrs. Chen. He’d sent her home hours ago. “Teddy!”

“Yeah?”

“How do you know Mrs. Chen is inside?”

“Some cowpoke told me he saw her go in.”

Josh grabbed London’s arm as they reached the scene. “Hold up.”

London spotted the line of men already working to douse the flames that had spread to the shop next door. This was bad. “What?”

“Remind you of anything?”

London noted the bucket brigade, the chaos. He flashed back on fighting another fire. Last year, when Josh’s opera house had almost burned to the ground. Oh, Christ. “It’s a distraction.”

Gila Gulch

“Could you hurry up, mister? It’s past closing time.”

Elroy glared across the mercantile at the impatient proprietor. This errand was difficult enough without the old goat rushing him. “Need to pick out one more item. I’m pert near done.”

The man grunted. “You said that twenty minutes ago.” Ignoring the curmudgeon, Elroy turned back to the business of choosing between one of two rag dolls, a painted pony, and a storybook. The more he pondered what to buy for the little girl, the sicker he got. The longer he tarried. His saddlebags were stuffed with bottles of rotgut and laudanum. His cousin was unpredictable as it was, but drunk and drugged? How the hell was he going to care for a five-year-old kid? And what if that kid turned out to favor Rome Garrett?

Dammit.

Elroy didn’t want to go back to that shack. He didn’t want no piece of this. He wanted to vamoose, far from his crazy cousin, far and away from the Garretts, but he couldn’t stomach deserting the kid. Her cherubic face was burned in his brain. He wished Jed never would’ve shown him her image. ‘Course there was no guarantee Itchy and Mule were going to lay hands on Frankie, that’s if she was even in Phoenix. But the possibility gnawed at his innards.

He cursed the night he walked into the Star Saloon and laid eyes on the long-lost Kat Simmons. Gut knotted, he settled on the brown-haired rag doll with the frilly blue dress just as the bell above the mercantile door tinkled.