Page 44 of Calder Country

Ruby gulped back a sense of dread. Hargrave was right, she told herself. Her father had always loved books. Art would enjoy working in the library. And surely he would be safe there. All the same, something didn’t feel right.

“But how much longer will he have to stay in prison? I’ve done everything you asked of me. I can’t help it if you haven’t caught your so-called Big Fish.”

“Let me remind you of something, Mrs. Weaver. You and your father were both committing crimes when we caught him. We could’ve had you both tried and sentenced to long, hard prison terms. Instead, we gave you a chance to help us. And you have. But that doesn’t mean we owe you any favors. You’ve no right to demand anything from us. Overstep yourself, and your father will be on a chain gang tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“I—” Ruby broke off at the sound of a creaking laundry cart coming down the hall. “I’ve got to go!”

She hung up the receiver and replaced the phone on the bedside table. An instant later, the laundry cart came rumbling through the door, followed by the sour-looking maid—the one who always seemed to be watching her.

“This isn’t your room, missy,” she said. “What are you doing in here? Did you get lost?”

Ruby managed a nervous laugh. “No, sorry. I’ve locked myself out of my room and can’t find my key. I was just about to call the front desk and have a bellhop come to open the door. But now that you’re here, you can do it for me. I know you have a master key to all the rooms.”

The woman sighed. “All right. But don’t start thinking I’ve got time to be at your beck and call. I’ve got work to do.”

Ruby followed the maid back down the hall, chatting. “I’m so sorry. I left my purse on the bed when I went out. The key is probably in it. I won’t let this happen again.”

“The next time it does, you’re on your own.” She unlocked Ruby’s door. “There.”

“Wait.” Ruby rushed into the room and pulled a dollar bill out of her purse. “Here’s something for your trouble.”

The tip was more than generous enough for a few seconds of work. The woman frowned at the bill, tucked it into the neckline of her dress and, without another word, walked back to the room where she’d left her laundry cart.

After locking the door behind her, Ruby sank onto the edge of the bed. Given the woman’s behavior—always lurking nearby— she had to be working for Colucci. What if she’d been just outside, listening to the phone conversation, then going back to get the cart and make her entrance? What if she’d heard everything, knew everything, and was waiting to tell Colucci?

Ruby’s instincts screamed at her to run—grab a few essentials and catch the next train, any train that would get her out of Miles City. But if she were to flee, what would happen to her father? Art had protected her all her life. Now it was up to her to protect him.

Maybe she would be all right. Maybe the maid hadn’t overheard her phone call. But she couldn’t assume she was safe. There was always a chance that Colucci would find out she was working for the feds. If he confronted her, she could only brazen it out, deny everything.

And if he ordered her killed . . . what then?

As she shifted her weight to stand, her foot brushed the dress box she’d shoved partway under the bed. The box was a constant reminder of dressing up for Leo Colucci, his hands touching her, his eyes devouring her. All she’d wanted was to get it out of sight.

Even now, she battled the urge to take the box down to the alley and dump it in the trash. Or donate it to the brothel at the far end of the alley. Some poor girl would put its contents to good use. But the awful truth Ruby faced now would be that she might need the clothes herself, to buy mercy from the man who controlled her life.

Early that morning, she had stolen a moment in Mason’s arms. When he’d kissed her, sensations she’d buried since the war, and her husband’s tragic return, had surged through her body. For those few, precious seconds, she’d felt like a whole woman. She’d almost felt hope.

But she couldn’t go back to Mason. Not now, not ever. Tell him the truth, and he would despise her for it. Keep the truth from him, and the danger could get him killed or arrested.

Her father was out of reach. She had no close friends. Whatever was to come, she would have to face it alone.

* * *

Mounted on his bay horse, Joseph led the way along the canyon trail. Lucy followed on the roan she’d borrowed from the Calder stables. Arranging to meet hadn’t been easy. Joseph had been busy on the fall roundup; and Nigel Merryweather usually kept his daughter under close watch.

But young love would find a way. The two had managed to leave a few notes in the old, dead tree that stood at a backroad crossing. They’d even managed to see each other briefly in town. Today, however, was a gift. Nigel was meeting with some contractors, and Joseph’s father had gone to Miles City to deposit the bank draft for the cattle he’d sold. Joseph and Lucy had a few precious hours to spend together.

“Where are you taking me?” Her laughter rang out as they wound their way along the trail. It was a beautiful day. Under a crystalline sky, the foothills were ablaze with the scarlet hues of oak and maple. Higher up on the slopes, stands of aspen had turned to patches of brilliant gold.

Joseph looked back over his shoulder, relishing the sight of her in her yellow dress, the skirt rucked to the knees to accommodate the western saddle. He ached with wanting her. But Lucy wasn’t like Annabeth. She was a lady. And going beyond a few kisses would be a serious mistake.

“Joseph, where are you taking me?” she demanded again.

“It’s a surprise. Wait and see.” He’d never taken Annabeth to the spot in the hills where a trickling spring formed a charming pool amid the rocks, framed by ferns and mosses. Now he was glad he’d saved it for Lucy.

Years ago, the summer he was fourteen, he’d come here sometimes with his three friends to relax on the rocks and swim in the chilly water. But the four boys had gone their separate ways after that awful night when they guided bootleg smugglers to the Hollister Ranch. The feds had moved in with guns. Chase Calder had been hit and almost died trying to warn his friends. Culley O’Rourke, whose father had betrayed them for the reward, had failed to show up. Buck Haskell had turned tail. And Joseph had been saved by Logan Hunter, who would later marry his aunt. The blame for the whole mess fell squarely at the feet of Mason Dollarhide.

But all that had happened five years ago. By now, other, younger, boys must have taken over the pond. But today those boys would be in school. Joseph and Lucy would have the place to themselves.

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