Page 64 of A Convenient Heart
Maybe he wasn’t John, and maybe he’d never meant to come here at all, or to stay, but something had happened when he’d stepped off that train.
After tonight, her obligations to the children would be over for a week. There would be no school over Christmas, to allow the children to be with their families.
Was there a way Merritt could track down Jack? Find him? Talk to him?
She forced the intruding thoughts away, tried to focus. The children had worked hard memorizing lines, and she found herself mouthing the words along with them.
Until the back doors to the dance hall slammed open.
Heads turned as a hulking man in a black slicker entered.
Harriet stood in the center of the stage and faltered her line, trailing off with wide eyes.
“Where’s Jack Easton?” the stranger bellowed.
Quiet murmurs broke out in the crowd, and one man, sitting on the aisle, stood up to block his progress.
“There are children?—”
Morris—because this had to be the man Jack had told Merritt and Danna about—slugged him so hard in the stomach that he collapsed to the ground. Terror streaked through Merritt. A woman screamed.
“Run,” she whispered to the nearest child, gripping Clarissa’s shoulder briefly. “Upstairs, quick.”
She shuffled to the front of the platform, nudging and pushing each child, snapping them out of their terror so that they ran or crawled off the stage and scampered to the stairwell, half hidden on the rear wall.
It was only a modicum of safety. Upstairs was a small loft.
Morris’s eyes flashed and trained on her.
Someone shouted, “Get the marshal!” from the back of the room.
Morris didn’t even look at them, only flipped both sides of his coat open to reveal a pair of bone-handled revolvers strapped to his waist. A clear threat.
“Nobody leaves.”
He stopped in front of her. Standing at the front corner of the stage, she was a half foot taller than him, but she was caught in his stare like a mouse trapped by the hypnotizing gaze of a cobra.
“Where’s Jack?” he demanded.
“Gone.” And she was glad of it.
She’d noticed the way Jack had walked out of the Carsons’ home earlier, favoring his left side. And that bruise on his cheek…
She hated the man in front of her for hurting Jack.
“Then I guess you’re my collateral. You’re coming with me?—”
There was movement somewhere in the crowd—she caught it from her peripheral vision. Morris’s head turned even as he reached for his gun with his right hand.
“Leave the lady alone. It’s me you want.”
Merritt gasped softly as Jack sauntered down the stairs she’d just sent her students up. He was still hatless, his shirt collar wrinkled. Smirking. An arrogant tilt to his head that she’d never seen before. This was the gambler Danna had described to Merritt.
Morris rattled off a curse word, making her jump. For a few seconds, she’d been focused on Jack, soaking up the sight of him, but her pounding heart and shaking limbs hadn’t let her forget the danger lurking only feet away.
Jack’s eyes flicked to somewhere in the front row of seats as his boots hit the floor. Morris took two steps toward him.
“Why don’t we play a game?” Jack asked. His voice was completely calm and unruffled. Merritt realized he held a deck of cards, casually passing them between his hands with a sound like a shuffle.
