Twice Blessed (34 page)

Somehow, Emma squeaked, “Put the gun down, Sean. This isn't the way to solve this.”

“Dickie's boys—”

“This isn't the way to solve this in
Haven
. We aren't Dickie's boys.” Her voice grew stronger as she added, “Sean, put the gun down, and we'll go home. Let Sheriff Parker and Judge Purchase do what they can to protect Belinda.”

Sean looked from her to Gilson. His thumb lowered away from the hammer, but he held the pistol steady. “Not until he gives the rest of his proof to me. Then it'll all be gone, and he won't be able to take Belinda away.”

“You little bastard,” Gilson snarled. “You should be sent to hang beside Sawyer.”

“Hang? Noah?” Sean choked, horror filling his eyes. “What're you talking about?”

Gilson took one step toward the boy. “You heard me. Sawyer's going to hang for kidnapping the girl, and you'll hang beside him for arson.”

“Arson?”

“For attempting to set this hotel on fire.”

“Emma!” Sean was abruptly a frightened child, even though he still held the pistol pointed at Gilson.

“Don't listen to him.” She moved toward Sean, but Gilson pushed her back. Knowing this was not the time to confront Gilson for his lack of manners, she said, “Listen to me, Sean. He's lying to you. You shouldn't have come here, but no one will believe you tried to burn anything other than that single page in order to protect Belinda.”

Gilson laughed. “Are you so sure of that, Emma? Do you think a woman who sneaks into a man's hotel room will be believed by any jury of decent people?”

“You're twisting the truth of everything that has happened.” She looked past him and held out her hand. “Sean, let's go.” When she tried again to edge around Gilson, he swung his arm, shoving her back against the hall door so hard her ears rang.

“Don't hit her!” shouted Sean.

Gilson rounded on him. The gun fired just as Gilson struck the boy across the face. The bullet hit the ceiling, and Emma covered her head with her arms as she threw herself toward where Sean was lying, motionless, on the floor beside the bed.

“Sean!” She put her hand against his cheek, then pulled it back when she saw the imprint of Gilson's fingers on his face. Rage filled her. It blinded her to everything but the gun lying on the floor by Sean's outstretched hand.

She reached for it. The gun was snatched out of her hand so fiercely that her palm burned. When Gilson pointed it at Sean, she shifted so she was between the gun and the boy.

Gilson laughed. “Do you think I would hesitate to shoot
you
, Emma? You've presented me with a dilemma. Would it be more enjoyable to shoot you now and watch Sawyer mourn your death, or would I prefer to see him go to the gallows knowing you're still alive and—”

“About to be preyed on by you?” She shook her head. “If you think I'd be willing to let you hurt us more, you're even a greater idiot than I have heard.”

His smile vanished. “You are going to regret that sass. When—”

A fist pounded on the door. Mrs. Riley called out, “Open up! Now!”

Grabbing her arm, Gilson jerked Emma to her feet. His hand clamped over her mouth before she could do more than gasp. He pushed her next to the door hinges, so when the door opened, she would not be seen. She did not move, because he kept the pistol pointed at Sean. Gilson did not have to speak his threat. She understood it. A single word to alert Mrs. Riley, and Sean would die.

Mrs. Riley pounded on the door again.

“Coming, Mrs. Riley,” Gilson said, his voice now so carefree that Emma wanted to scream out in despair.

When he opened the door, his thumb on the gun, which he must be keeping out of Mrs. Riley's view, shifted to the hammer. Emma pressed back against the wall.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Riley,” he said.

Mrs. Riley's voice trembled. “I heard a gun fire.”

“So did I. I had just opened the window to try and see who it might be when you arrived.” He chuckled, and Emma clenched her fingers into fists. “It sounded as if it came from out behind the hotel,” Gilson said as he smiled at Mrs. Riley. “Nearly scared me out of my skin.”

“It sounded like it came from up here.”

“You might ask the sheriff to check the crest of the hill behind the hotel.”

Emma could hear Mrs. Riley's uncertainty as she said, “I'll do that, Mr. Gilson.” Emma understood all too well. If Mrs. Riley falsely accused one of her guests of firing a gun in her hotel, the word might spread, and no one would stay here. She closed her eyes in defeat when Mrs. Riley added, “I'm glad to hear you're all right, Mr. Gilson.”

“I'm fine.” He closed the door and turned to face Emma with a lecherous smile. Twisting the lock on the door, he said, “I'm doing very, very fine.”

Pushing past him, she dipped a cloth into the bowl and she wrung it out. She bent to press it against the reddening spot on Sean's face. Her arm was seized, and she was pulled to her feet again.

“Are you so beastly,” she cried, “that you won't let me tend to the child you struck so viciously?”

“Hush, my dear. We wouldn't want Mrs. Riley to come back, would we?”

“I'd be glad to have her come back.”

“Would you?” He aimed the gun at the prone boy as he had before. Smiling at her, he asked, “Would you, really, Emma?”

“Shoot him, and you'll be sent to hang.”

“Instead of Sawyer?” He laughed. “The boy tried to shoot me. A plea of self-defense would save my neck and stretch his.”

She prayed for the right words to end this, so she could tend to Sean and take him back home, but none came. He threw all her words back at her. When Gilson set his foot on the iron footboard, he grinned.

“I'm honored, Emma, that you decided to call.” He put out the hand holding the gun toward her face, but she moved away as far as she could when he held her arm. “Come now, my dear. Fancy talk is what you want to hear, isn't it?”

She kept her chin high. “What I want, Mr. Gilson, is to take Sean home.”

“Is he your son?” He laughed. “Is Sawyer collecting a whole household of children that he didn't father? Maybe he can't.”

Instead of answering his insulting questions, she said, “Be honest, Mr. Gilson. You don't want to be burdened with Belinda. She's much better off here.”

“With a kidnapper?”

“With her uncle.”

Sean groaned.

“Let me help him!” she cried.

“If I do, what will you do for me in return?”

She yanked her arm out of his grip. “You're disgusting.”

“And you're a beautiful woman who should have someone better than Sawyer.”

“You obviously don't want to be reasonable.” She stared at the door, yearning for nothing more than to escape. Then she realized that was not true. She did want something more. She longed to protect Sean and Belinda and Noah. Just as Sean did. That desperate need had led them to this.

Emma bent toward Sean, but froze again when Gilson jabbed the pistol between her and the boy. Straightening, she asked, “What do you want me to do before you'll let me tend to him? Plead on bended knee?”

“A bit of perjury would be a good place to start.”

“I can promise you I'll say whatever you want the judge to hear, but we both know that's a promise I won't keep.”

“That's quite true.” He ran the pistol's barrel along her arm. “So why don't you help me even things out a bit?”

“What do you mean?”

As he leaned toward her, she almost gagged on the odor of whiskey. Was the liquor making him act so crazy? Judge Purchase would not take kindly to hearing of how Gilson was acting. Gilson should know that.

He chuckled and said, as if she had spoken her thoughts aloud, “No one's going to know what happened here but you and me, Emma, my dear.”

“And Sean.”

“He won't wake up in time to know.” He pushed on the bed. “It's good that this doesn't squeak. I don't want to wake the boy before we're done.”

She was going to be ill. She pressed her hands to her stomach as Gilson set his foot on the floor and moved toward her. She backed away. Until she could get Sean, she could not leave. Gilson knew that, too, as he edged to her left to keep himself between her and the boy.

He laughed as she bumped into the wall. Ripping her bonnet from her head, he tossed it aside.

“Mr. Gilson, don't do this,” she whispered. She tried to turn her face away, but he caught her cheeks and forced her to look at him. He squashed her against the wall while the odor of what he had been drinking swelled over her, threatening to sicken her.

“Please me, Emma, my girl, and I'll take you with me instead of the kid.”

Her reaction was pure instinct. Flinging out her fist, she struck him in the chin. He reeled back. She pushed past him and ran to where Sean was lying. Bending, she slipped her arms beneath him. She started to straighten, then faltered. He was even heavier than she remembered.

Gilson's hand on her arm swung her to face him. She gasped as Sean rolled away from her, still senseless. She fell to sit on the floor with a thump that resonated through her.

Cursing, he pulled her to her feet and propelled her toward the bed. His hand clamped over her mouth as he forced her down onto it. She kicked at him. He swore and pinned her beneath him.

“Stop!” Her scream was muffled against his hand.

He laughed as he lifted her skirts. “I doubt if I'll be stopping for a long time, my dear Emma. Not until you're as docile as a kitten.”

She ripped his hand off her mouth and spat at him. He clamped his mouth over hers as he pressed her to the bed. Her flailing legs tangled in her skirts and petticoats. When she reached up to claw at his face, he caught her hands and pinned her wrists to the bed with a single hand. He undid the top button on her blouse and then the next and the next as she struggled to escape.

He was too strong. He had her hands. All she had were her feet. Desperately, she fought to free them from her skirt. No. It was taking too long, for he was pushing her blouse aside as his hand curved up along her breast. Ignoring her nausea at his touch, she jerked her knee upward. His screech rang through her head, but his grip on her loosened.

Arching her back, she rolled toward the edge of the bed. He did not release her. They crashed to the floor. She pushed against him, then kicked his shin. He yelped, but slapped her as savagely as he had Sean.

She moaned as she crumpled to the floor, the salty flavor of blood thick in her mouth. She moaned again when he ran his fingers along her leg where her dress was bunched under her. His leg clamped hers to the floor.

“That's right,” he murmured. “Make it fun.”

“You won't think it is fun if you don't get off her, Gilson.” Lewis Parker poked Gilson's shoulder blades with a rifle as he ordered, “Get up!”

Before Gilson could move, he was hauled away from her. Noah held him by the collar. He glanced at Lewis, then drove his fist into Gilson's stomach, knocking him back against the wall. Gilson took a step toward him, then froze as Lewis aimed the gun at him.

“He has a pistol,” Emma whispered, her jaw aching more with each word.

“If you do, Gilson,” Lewis said with a calm Emma had to admire, “you'd better put it on the bed right now. Nice and easy.”

As Gilson cursed and obeyed the sheriff's orders, Noah knelt beside Emma, gathering her to him. He tried to control his rage. As she began to rebutton her blouse, he bit back his curses.

“Sean,” she whispered. “We need to help Sean.”

“Where is he?” Noah asked.

“On the other side of the bed.”

“Wait here.”

Noah could not silence his oaths when he saw the boy sprawled on the floor. Lifting him carefully, he turned to lock eyes with Gilson, who had not moved. Did his enemy realize that the only thing keeping Noah from ridding the world of his miserable hide was the fact that he did not want Emma to witness it?

When Gladys had burst into the telegraph office with Belinda in tow, Noah had been horrified to learn Emma had gone to stop Sean from trying to destroy the proof that Gilson had legal custody of his sister's daughter. Fury at her foolishness had mixed with fear for her at Gilson's hands. Before he could call Lewis into the telegraph office, Mrs. Riley had rushed up to the sheriff with her concerns. He and Lewis had left the women, Belinda, and the telegraph operator to stare after them as they raced to the hotel, hoping they would not be too late. Getting a key from the box in Mrs. Riley's private rooms, they had come up the stairs and into the room to see Gilson strike Emma.

He gritted his teeth as he placed Sean on the wrinkled covers of the bed that revealed what had happened. He brushed plaster dust from the boy's face. He looked up and saw the hole in the ceiling.

“Mrs. Riley was right to send for you, Lewis,” he said as he reached down to help Emma to her feet. “It must be against the law to fire off a gun in a hotel.”

Gilson sneered, “If it is, then the kid should be arrested. He tried to shoot me. She witnessed that.”

“He didn't fire the gun!” Emma cried. “It went off by mistake when you hit him.”

“Hush, Emma,” Noah replied. “Let Lewis handle this, as I told you he would.”

She did not lower her eyes. “Noah—” She rushed to Sean when the little boy moaned and opened his eyes. “No, don't move yet,” she said, sitting and cradling him against her.

Gilson laughed. “Are you too scared to face me alone, Sawyer? First you send that harlot you call your wife. Then you bring the law to accuse me of a crime I didn't commit.”

“Maybe you didn't fire the gun, but rape is a crime in this state.”

“Rape?” He laughed again. “She was willing.”

“Is that why you beat her?”

“She likes it rough. Maybe you should try it.”