To Win Her Heart (14 page)

The following evening—on the Lord’s Day, no less—Levi found himself once again outside the Hang Dog. It was still early, the sun had yet to disappear behind the hills west of town, but that fact did little to ease Levi’s nerves. A noble mission had brought him here this time instead of his own willfulness, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t weaken once inside.

With a quick prayer for added strength, Levi took a deep breath and stepped into the saloon. The place was nearly empty. A lone cowboy stood at the far end of the bar, staring into his beer while three old-timers played poker at one of the tables. A spirited tune echoed from the piano beneath the stairs, but the detached expression on the player’s face neutralized the happiness of the notes. A pair of women in exposed corsets, leaning against either side of the instrument, straightened from their positions and gave Levi a thorough examination.

He turned away, his mind dangerously flooded with images of plentiful bosoms and limbs encased in black stockings. He swallowed hard and concentrated on his task.

The note Eden had given him seemed to press against his chest from within his pocket. She had presented it to him after church that morning on Chloe’s behalf. The girl had chosen to stay behind and keep an eye on Verna’s pot roast, although Eden shared his suspicion that her true motive for missing services had more to do with her fear of running into the man who’d accosted her than her desire to baste a hunk of beef.

Wisely, Eden had not pressured her to attend. But perhaps unwisely, she’d promised to get word to the girl’s mother that Chloe was safe. Levi wasn’t about to allow Eden to traipse into the Hang Dog to deliver the message herself, so he’d volunteered for the duty.

The barkeep glanced over at him and set aside the glass he’d been wiping clean. Slinging the dishtowel over his shoulder, he moseyed down to Levi’s position. “What’ll it be, friend?”

Levi eyed the bottles on the shelf behind the man’s head. He’d probably draw less attention to himself if he ordered a drink. But the minute that rationalization entered his brain, he evicted it. Better not give the devil a foothold. He forced his gaze back to the barman. “You Roy?”

The thin fellow raised an eyebrow. “Yep. Who’s askin’?”

Levi lowered his voice. “A friend of Chloe. I have a note for her mother.”

Stillness came over the man for a moment, then he blinked and jerked back into action. “Beer it is.” He grabbed a glass and unstopped the spigot on the keg behind him. Rich amber liquid flowed into the glass, forming a foam on top. He plunked it down in front of Levi.

“No, I didn’t—”

“Ah, you’re in the mood for some company, are you? I can fix that.” He motioned to someone at the back of the room. “Violet? Come here, honey. This gent’s in need of some . . . conversation.”

Heat rose up from Levi’s collar. “You don’t under . . .” The word strangled him. But it didn’t matter, for Roy leaned in close and hissed in his ear.

“No, mister.
You
don’t understand. Salazar worked Vi over good when Chloe turned up missin’ last night. If he catches her swapping messages with you, he’s bound to hand out more of the same. I ain’t about to let that happen. You got something to say to her, you do it my way. And make it convincing.”

Levi dipped his chin an inch to let the man know he’d cooperate, then turned to face the woman sashaying in his direction. For Chloe’s sake he’d do all he could to minimize the amount of trouble his being there might cause her mother. Unfortunately, minimizing her trouble meant maximizing his own. Not an encouraging prospect.

A man at a back table lit a cheroot, the flare of his match briefly illuminating his swarthy face. Levi hadn’t noticed him when he’d first entered the tavern, but that was probably due to the fact that the man wore all black and lingered among the shadows. The possessive way he watched Violet move across the room, though, hinted at his identity. Salazar.

Committed to playing an uncomfortable role, Levi leaned an elbow on the bar and pivoted to face Violet. He let his gaze rake over her as would be expected, but he schooled his mind to see her as Chloe’s mother, not as a vehicle of pleasure. And amazingly, that simple change in perspective truly altered his perception.

The woman was small-boned, like her daughter, but stood several inches taller. When she reached his side, she curled her hand around his bicep, a practiced pout on her lips. She drew little lines on his arm with her fingernail and peeked coyly up at him from the corner of her kohl-darkened lashes. “Such marvelous muscles,” she purred. “So strong. You and I are going to have us a mighty fine time.”

Her face looked young—younger than he’d expected—but her eyes had a flatness to them that reminded him of men who’d been trapped behind prison walls so long they’d given up on ever being released. She rubbed her leg against his and leaned seductively into his side, yet the only thing that stirred in him was sorrow. What had happened in her youth to lead her to this place?

Levi smiled down at her, cupping his palm over her fingers. It might not be within his power to save her, but he could offer reassurance that her daughter would not suffer the same fate. “Got a room where we can . . . talk?”

“Sure thing, handsome. Follow me.”

Salazar’s stare burned into Levi’s back as he climbed the stairs, but the man made no move to rise. Thankful for each step that increased their distance from his table, Levi stayed on Violet’s heels until they closed themselves behind her door.

The moment the latch clicked into place, however, Violet turned on him. “Where is Chloe?”

Startled at her quiet vehemence Levi staggered backward. “How . . . how did you know?”

The woman’s eyes were far from flat now. They sparked with fire and a mother’s passion that lent her deep blue eyes a violet hue. More than a flower had inspired her name.

“Roy signaled me before we left the bar.” She waved the explanation away impatiently. “Now, tell me where she is.”

“At the library,” Levi finally spat out. “Unharmed.”

Violet lifted a shaky hand to her throat. “Thank God. Maybe he does hear a whore’s prayers after all.”

Levi winced, recognizing the pain of self-loathing. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the note Eden had written, hoping it would ease the woman’s mind. “Here. The lady who took her in wanted me to give . . . a note to you.”

She stared at it, making no move to reach for it. Instead she twirled back toward the door and unhooked a filmy lavender dressing robe from a nail that protruded from the wood. Keeping her back to him, she slid her arms into the sleeves and tightened the sash. Then with one hand holding the material closed at her neck, she turned and accepted the folded paper.

After she scanned the few words on the page, Violet pinned Levi with a look. “Can I trust this Eden Spencer to treat my girl good? I’ve heard of the Spencers. Know her daddy practically owns the town, even though he spends most of his time in Austin with his political cronies. People like that usually avoid people like Chloe and me. At least here, I could keep an eye on her.”

“But not all the time,” Levi said quietly.

Some of the starch went out of her at that. “No. Not all the time.” She turned her face away from Levi and gazed about the room. “I want better for her than this. I always have. We knew she’d have to leave one day, I just never figured how much losin’ her was gonna hurt.”

Something clenched in Levi’s gut. This was the kind of pain he’d caused his own mother. His father, too. And unlike Chloe, it wasn’t necessity that had driven him away but selfishness.

Did his parents ever think of him? Did they miss him? Or had they been so hurt and disappointed by his poor choices that it was easier for them to forget they had a younger son? Levi hadn’t heard anything from them in years. Of course, he’d made no effort to contact them, so they wouldn’t know where to find him if they wanted to. They would have heard the news of his incarceration, though. Everyone in the surrounding counties would’ve been privy to that juicy tidbit. Yet not once had he received a letter or visit or any indication that they wanted to see him.

Maybe once his shop was turning a decent profit and he’d accrued enough funds to build a house . . . Maybe then he’d try to contact them. If they didn’t want to see him, he’d find a way to live with that, but at the very least, he’d like to learn how they were faring. If his folks were in good health. If Pop still ran the smithy, or if he’d handed the reins over to Aaron. Did he have any nieces or nephews? Aaron had been courting a girl from Hearne when Levi left. It was easy to imagine him married and settled. Aaron had always been one to follow the conventional path, the one Levi had scorned. Now he longed for the simplicity and contentment such a life represented.

Of course, contentment would require the right partner with whom to share this life. A particular auburn-haired librarian with mossy green eyes came to mind.

Violet let out a sigh and turned back to him. “How did you meet up with Chloe?”

Levi did his best to fill her in on what had transpired in the alley and later at the library. She asked a few pointed questions about Eden, then decided they had hidden behind closed doors long enough to make the ruse believable.

Levi pulled a couple coins from his pocket and dropped them onto the dresser by the door, hoping it would be enough to satisfy Salazar. He nodded to Violet in parting and reached for the doorknob.

“Muss your clothes a bit before you go.”

Levi raised a brow at her. Coming upstairs with her had been bad enough. He didn’t want to reinforce his supposed lack of morality to anyone who cared to notice his exit.

She grabbed at his shirt when he hesitated too long and managed to tug most of one shirttail free before he batted her hand away. “Don’t be such a prig,” she said with a huff. “You can straighten yourself up as soon as ya leave. It’ll be easier for both of us if everyone assumes we were havin’ a good time. Fewer consequences.”

Violet wrapped an arm around her ribs, and Roy’s heated words came back to Levi. He hadn’t thought much about the punishment the barkeep had mentioned because he hadn’t noticed any bruises. But there were more places to hit a woman than the face—especially if one didn’t want to mar his merchandise.

So, with a frown, Levi allowed her to undo his top button and put a kink in his left suspender. Praying no one from church would be anywhere nearby, he made his way downstairs and out the front door in record time.

Suddenly, he had a lot more sympathy for Eden’s desire to protect her reputation.

On Monday morning, an hour before the library was due to open, a knock sounded on Eden’s door.

“Verna, can you answer that?” Eden called out from the reading room, where she sat at her desk using a pair of toothpicks to glue down a dark pink phlox bloom on the stiff art paper that served as the canvas for her pressed flowers. She’d adhered the stems of her bouquet last week, had the background leaves in place for texture and dimension, and was finally ready to add the flowers—her favorite part, and the most delicate. She hated to leave before being certain the glue had set.

“Chloe and me are up to our armpits in bread dough,” Verna answered from the kitchen. “You’ll have to get it yourself.”

Eden sighed as she pushed to her feet, holding on to her toothpicks until the last possible second. Relieved when the flower maintained its position, she gingerly eased her hands away from the bouquet and hurried to the door.

A woman in a tan-and-blue-striped walking suit stood on the porch, her back turned. At the sound of the door clicking open, however, she spun around. She blinked several times, and she peered past Eden’s head as if trying to see into the house.

“This the library?”

“Yes, ma’am. But I’m afraid we don’t open until noon. Perhaps you could return in an hour?” Eden tried to keep her voice polite, but the woman had yet to look her directly in the eye, and the rudeness was starting to rankle.

“I didn’t come for a book.” The woman finally brought her attention to Eden’s face. “I come to see my girl. I’m Chloe’s mother.”