Hud’s stomach was growling something fierce so he reached into his saddlebag to retrieve hardtack to tide him over until they reached the next stage station along the route. The past hour had been uneventful. Jarvis had dozed off and awakened only to demand whiskey or to relieve himself. Hud didn’t give him a drop of liquor, though the hopeless drunk had the shakes so bad he was a mass of twitches.
“You’re a heartless bastard,” Jarvis snarled while they went down the road.
“And you’d know, being one yourself,” Hud retorted.
Jarvis squinted at him. “How far to Tascosa?”
“Hours away. We’re closer to The Flat, but you’ll go to trial faster if I take you all the way to Tascosa.”
Jarvis pushed himself upright in the saddle. “How ’bout if we veer to The Flat and I cut you in on the deal. I can arrange to set up both of us for life.”
“Not interested. I’ve been offered deals by the likes of you before, Jarvis.”
“I’m not talkin’ about a small-time bribe,” he insisted. “I’m talkin’ plenty of money to live in luxury.”
Hud eyed him curiously. “I’m listening.”
Jarvis grinned, exposing his jagged yellow teeth. “Double blackmail. We split it right down the middle. You go your way and I’ll go mine.”
“Go on,” Hud encouraged, unsure where Jarvis was going with his unexpected offer.
“First off, Ray Novak, the rancher I worked for, sends out his men to steal weanin’-size calves from his neighbors. Then we brand them and he drives them up the trail to sell at Dodge City.”
“So we’re going to blackmail Novak for rustling?”
Jarvis nodded and his stringy hair brushed over his angular features. “That should bring in good money. Besides that, Novak has been paddin’ that politician’s pocket for favors. Then we blackmail the politician, too.”
“For accepting the bribes?”
Jarvis frowned, bemused. “She didn’t tell you? Go figure.”
An uneasy sensation dribbled down Hud’s spine. She, he presumed, was Bri. What the hell had she kept from him?
“What else do we have on the politician that will set us up for life?” Hud prodded.
“He paid me to kidnap his fiancée from The Flat.”
Cold fury settled in the pit of Hud’s belly and his hand curled into a tight fist. He itched to break a few of Powell’s teeth and bash in his arrogant smile.
“Powell was debatin’ which would get him more votes, havin’ his fiancée temporarily disappear then return or just lose her completely.”
When Hud snarled ferociously, Jarvis cocked a bushy brow. “You sweet on that hellion? Don’t know why. She fights like a wildcat…Hey!”
Jarvis yelped when Hud gouged Rambler and took off east. The outlaw’s horse bolted sideways, flinging him around like a rag doll.
“What’s the matter with you? Are you takin’ the deal or not?” Jarvis wanted to know as he settled himself upright on the saddle.
“No deal,” Hud muttered as he veered straight east toward the valley that led to Government Hill and The Flat. “I’m leaving you with Marshal Long. You can rot in jail, waiting for the circuit judge to make his rounds. Powell and Novak can keep you company.”
While Jarvis swore foully then complained about the furious pace, Hud silently cursed Bri for neglecting to tell him that Powell had paid to have her spirited off so he could add a dramatic flair to his campaign.
How dare she keep that from him! She knew he’d want to break that haughty dandy into bite-sized pieces then feed his sorry carcass to the wolves…
Which was why she didn’t tell me, Hud realized insightfully. She wanted to confront him, damn that fiery little imp. She wanted to see the look of shock on Powell’s face when she accused him of paying for her abduction. She thought Hud would steal her thunder and she wanted to prove that she was capable of handling the situation herself.
He wondered if Commander Price would be allowed to witness the confrontation. Her father maybe, but not Hud. Well to hell with being left out! he thought indignantly. The least he could do was be there to hold Powell down while Bri took out her outraged fury on him.
If Hud was good enough to share a secret tryst, why wasn’t he special enough to be included in the reckoning?
Maybe I should blackmail Gabrielle Price, he thought spitefully, his pride smarting something fierce. Maybe she should have to pay good money for his silence about their steamy, passionate trysts. That’d show her.
Hud huffed out his breath and told himself to calm down and think rationally. He had to accept that Bri wasn’t interested in an ongoing affair or even a lasting friendship. Their time had come and gone, so that was that. Period. End of story.
Let her go, said the sensible voice in his head. Let her have her revenge in her own way. She doesn’t need you and you don’t need her, either.
Yet, the thought of never holding Bri again made his heart twist so tightly in his chest that it hurt to breathe.
He knew he couldn’t match her formal education, her social connections or her financial status. There was nothing whatsoever that he could give Gabrielle Price that she didn’t have already. They were as far apart on the social pendulum as two people could get.
Nonetheless, he refused to switch direction and head to Tascosa. Instead, he took a grueling shortcut to The Flat because he had to see for himself that nothing went wrong during Bri’s confrontation with Powell.
There was always the chance that the cocky dandy might try to make a run for it. Hud could shoot his legs out from under him so Bri wouldn’t have to exert much effort to overtake him. Even if it hurt Hud’s feelings that Bri didn’t think enough of him to confide in him, blasting Powell until he leaked like a sieve held tremendous appeal.
“Eaton Powell’s poor fiancée has finally been rescued from her terrifying ordeal! Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Bri looked up from beneath the floppy brim of her gray bonnet to stare blankly at the young clerk who was manning the hotel counter. While he beamed with excitement, she wondered what devious scheme Powell had devised this time.
“That is good to know,” she murmured as she retrieved money from her pocket. She couldn’t check in using the name of Price, she mused. That would draw curiosity and she wanted nothing to spoil the surprise she had planned for her sinister ex-fiancé. “I would like two rooms please…for Bri and Hud Stone.”
When she handed over the money, the clerk presented her with two keys. “Naturally, Mizz Price is completely exhausted,” he added conversationally. “She’s resting in the suite.”
Bri silently fumed. There was no end to Powell’s manipulation and cunning. Until now, she promised herself. Very soon, Powell would be behind bars and in the midst of a firestorm of scandal. When her side of the story hit the newspapers, she would bury his political campaign in a grave of bad publicity.
While her father was stabling their horses at the livery, Bri carried her satchels upstairs to enter the same room she had used during her first trip to The Flat. Originally, she had planned to bathe and dine before she lowered the boom on Powell, but the urge to confront him, after hearing about his latest publicity stunt, overwhelmed her. She was mad as hell at him and she wanted revenge—now!
“He’ll rue the day,” Bri muttered as she tossed aside her bags.
Wheeling around, she pelted down the hall. She didn’t bother to knock on the door of the suite, just turned the knob—and found it locked. Muttering at the inconvenient delay, she reached beneath her bonnet to retrieve a hairpin.
“Thank you, Benji,” she murmured as she used the skill he’d taught her to pick the lock.
When she opened the door, she looked into the mirror that hung over the dresser in the bedroom. She saw Powell’s naked back and a bare-chested woman and thought, Isn’t this where I came in?
She squinted to get a closer look at the woman, whose hair was the exact color of hers. When she recognized Sylvia Ford’s facial features, surrounded by a red-gold wig, Bri understood Powell’s clever scheme.
It was a damn shame that he couldn’t use his cunning for the benefit of the good citizens of this state and the nation. He might have made a fine senator—if you overlooked his multiple flaws of character and personality.
Oh, well, she thought as she tiptoed across the sitting room. Maybe Powell could organize a political society while he was doing time in the penitentiary.
“Hello, darling, I’m back,” she announced in a mocking tone. “Did you miss me?”
Powell yowled in surprise and ceased groping Sylvia. He twisted around to see Bri standing in the doorway.
“You!” he snarled furiously.
Powell shot off the bed like a discharging bullet and plowed into her. Before Bri could latch on to the dagger or defective derringer strapped to her thigh, he slammed into her. It was a stroke of bad luck that the tender knot on her head hit the edge of the doorjamb. Pain shot through her skull and stars exploded in front of her eyes.
She thought she heard Powell shouting curses at her from a long winding tunnel a second before the world turned black as pitch and she collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Hud towed his reluctant prisoner inside the jail to see Marshal Long sitting behind his desk that was stacked with papers. He had his feet propped up and his beefy hands clasped behind his head. He bounded up to grab the keys to the cells when Hud gestured to the door at the back of the office.
“This is the man who shot a Ranger and robbed at least two stagecoach stations,” Hud said hurriedly.
“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong!” Jarvis hooted. “I’m innocent and I need a damn drink!”
Hud cast him a withering glance and marched him into the cell to slam the barred door in his face. “Jarvis also worked for a rancher named Ray Novak. Have you heard of him?”
The marshal nodded in recognition. “Yep. He owns a big spread north of here. There have been rumors and accusations circulating for years, but no conclusive evidence that he rustles his neighbors’ cattle then drives them to Dodge.”
“For a drink or two, Jarvis might share his incriminating information with you.” Hud slammed the door to the outer office when Jarvis commenced shouting and rattling the bars in outrage. “How long before the circuit judge passes through here?”
“End of next week,” Sparrow replied as he plunked down in his chair to fill out the paperwork for his new prisoner.
“I plan to be here to testify against him for charges of murder, robbery, kidnapping and assault,” Hud declared.
“This is turning out to be a good day,” Sparrow remarked with a smile. “First the politician finds his missing fiancée and now you’ve captured that murdering thief.”
Hud frowned, bemused. “Powell found Gabrielle Price? What the hell does that mean? Didn’t you receive my note?” He smacked himself on the forehead when he remembered that Lieutenant Davis had been detained because he was chasing renegades back to the reservation.
“What note?” Sparrow asked.
“Never mind. What about Powell?” Hud prodded impatiently.
Sparrow’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “All I know is that he rode out of town to check a couple of abandoned shacks. He returned with Mizz Price, who claimed she’d been blindfolded, bound up and detained for several days.”
“That isn’t right,” Hud protested. “I know that for a fact because I located Bri several days ago. She should have arrived with Commander Price a few hours earlier.”
“What?” The marshal bolted to his feet. “Then who was that woman riding in the wagon with Powell? He escorted her to the hotel so she could rest and recuperate.”
Hud didn’t know the answer to that question, but he sure as hell intended to find out what was going on. And where the blazes were Bri and Winston Price? Damn it, they better not have met with trouble during their journey to town.
He burst from the office and jogged toward Brazos Hotel. Marshal Long was two steps behind him.
“What the blazes do you think is going on?” the marshal panted as he scurried to keep up with Hud’s long, impatient strides.
“I think maybe the politician hired someone to portray his missing fiancée,” Hud said over his shoulder.
“Why would he do that?”
“Besides taking advantage of free publicity for his campaign and drawing sympathy votes, you mean?”
“Damn, I even bought him a meal after he returned to town from Austin. The stagecoach he was riding in was robbed,” Marshal Long muttered, thoroughly disgusted.
“I know for a fact that Powell hired Jarvis and his former partner to abduct Mizz Price. She canceled their engagement against his wishes and he retaliated.”
“Well, hell,” the marshal said, scowling. “He’s been playing one dirty trick after another.”
“You said it, Sparrow. I’m in favor of shooting him and putting him out of our misery,” Hud grumbled spitefully.
“It’s what he deserves. He had this whole town feeling sorry for him. He played the role of a desperate, forlorn fiancé to the hilt.”
“That’s it!” Hud erupted abruptly.
The marshal angled his head in a birdlike manner. “What’s it?”
“Powell was playing his role like an actor. He probably hired someone from the theater troupe to impersonate Gabrielle Price. Probably the redhead that Gabrielle caught Powell rolling around with in bed.”
“Damn, I’m the marshal of this town and I’m supposed to know all and see all,” he complained. “Why didn’t I know this?”
Hud didn’t bother to comment. He broke into a run when he saw Commander Price striding across the street, laden down with saddlebags and puffing on his pipe. Winston frowned, befuddled, when he recognized Hud.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were headed to Tascosa so Jarvis could go to trial immediately.”
“Change of plans. I double-timed it here when Jarvis told me that Powell had arranged to have Bri kidnapped. Nice of her to tell me,” he muttered, disgruntled.
“She claimed she didn’t want you to feel obligated to sort all this out,” said Winston. “Plus, she wanted to handle this herself.”
Obligated? After all they’d been through together this week? He felt a damn sight more than obligation. Didn’t she know that? “Why are you so late getting here?” Hud asked curiously.
Winston puffed on his pipe. “Had to delay to repair a broken wheel.”
Remembering his manners, Hud hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “Commander Price, this is Marshal Long, or Sparrow as he’s affectionately known.”
“Glad to meet you,” the marshal panted, still trying to catch his breath.
“Where’s Bri?” Hud demanded.
“She’s renting our rooms.” Winston took off toward the hotel. “We decided to freshen up before she confronted Powell. Then I plan to swoop in to take him into custody.”
“I’m betting she decided to confront him immediately, if she heard the news that Powell rescued his missing fiancée this afternoon and brought her to the hotel to recuperate.”
“What the hell—?” Winston choked on his pipe smoke and practically coughed his head off.
Hud left Sparrow to whack Winston between the shoulder blades until his throat and lungs cleared of smoke. Not knowing precisely where Bri was worried the hell out of Hud.
She had better be in her room, lounging in her bath, waiting for her father to arrive, damn it.
The moment he entered the hotel lobby he veered to the counter. “Did a woman check in here this evening?”
The young man nodded and smiled. “Yes. Two rooms for Bri and Hud Stone,” he reported.
Bri and Hud Stone? he mused. Interesting.
“She rented the two rooms at the west end of the upstairs hall,” said the clerk. “And isn’t it grand that Mr. Powell found his fiancée this afternoon?”
“Did you tell Bri that?” Hud demanded curtly.
The clerk’s smile fizzled out and he frowned, puzzled by Hud’s sharp tone. “Yes, sir. I’ve told everyone who’s checked in. The whole town has been worried about the poor woman.”
Muttering a foul oath, Hud took the steps two at a time. The clatter behind him indicated that Sparrow and the commander were bringing up the rear. Hud veered toward the west end of the hall. He rapped his knuckles impatiently on the door but received no immediate response.
“Where could she be?” Winston asked from behind him.
As if he didn’t know. Hud scowled as he spun around then brushed past Winston and Sparrow to stride quickly toward the spacious suite at the far end of the hall. He pounded on the door but no one answered.
Since the door was locked and he was worried as hell about Bri, Hud hiked up his leg and kicked the knob with his boot heel. Then he rammed the door with his shoulder. Wood splintered and dust dribbled from the woodwork as the door wobbled open.
He charged inside to see the mirror hanging above the dresser. As Bri had mentioned, it provided a clear view of the bed in the adjoining room. The sheets were rumpled and the bedspread was missing.
That was not a good omen for Bri, Hud decided.
“Where is that deceitful bastard?” Winston growled as he barged past Hud to check the bedroom. “His luggage is here.”
Hud reversed direction and headed for the stairs. “I’m betting Bri was here and she didn’t leave of her own accord.”
“God! I know better than to leave her unsupervised,” Winston howled in frustration. “How could I let her disappear without double-checking on her?”
Hud glanced over his shoulder and said, “Welcome to the club, Commander.”
Bri came to and found herself bound, gagged and rolled in a bedspread. She hung over Powell’s shoulder like a feed sack and she took special pains not to move so he wouldn’t know she had regained consciousness.
“You are such a nuisance,” Powell complained as he tossed Bri into what she presumed to be the bed of a wagon.
She bit back a groan when the knot on the back of her head collided with the wooden planks.
“I’m not sure about this,” Sylvia Ford said uneasily. “I agreed to pretend to be your missing fiancée for a certain price. And I will accompany you down the stagecoach line as you requested, to pretend to die in an unfortunate accident. But I don’t want anyone’s death on my conscience, Eaton.”
Bri sighed inwardly. Not only had Powell hired Sylvia to pose as his missing fiancée, but he also had planned to pretend to kill her—somewhere between here and Austin. Damn, was there no end to the extremes Powell was willing to go to protect himself?
Honestly, she could see little difference between him and Mad Joe Jarvis. They were both rotten to the core. The only difference was that Powell dressed in the latest fashion and Jarvis didn’t. Other than that…
“I don’t have a choice,” Powell insisted. “If she speaks out now, my life and my political career will be ruined. It’s she or I. I choose me, so climb up on the damn seat and let’s get rolling before someone sees us and starts posing incriminating questions I don’t want to have to answer.”
Bri felt the wagon shift as Powell piled onto the seat and Sylvia joined him a moment later.
“I recognized your fiancée,” Sylvia declared in a voice filled with nervous apprehension. “I know for a fact that she was with a Texas Ranger. They joined our traveling caravan for a day. If he comes around, asking questions—”
“Stop worrying,” he interrupted sharply. “You’ll be in Austin by then. I’ll make sure you have a blossoming career in a reputable theater troupe, not that roaming band of gypsies and bad actors you’re sharing a stage with now. You have real potential, Sylvia,” he praised to win her over. “If you help me then I’ll help you. That’s the way the game is played.”
“I don’t know—”
“Shut up!” Powell snapped, dropping his coaxing tone—which didn’t seem to be working with Sylvia. “If you don’t keep quiet about this, you won’t last the night and your career in theater will be over before it gets started!”
While wrapped in the bedspread, Bri contorted her body and reached down with her bound hands to retrieve the knife strapped to her thigh. The motion of the wagon jostled her sideways as it picked up speed. She heard the clatter of hooves and the rattle of other wagons that indicated Powell had left the alley and pulled onto the street.
She wished she could rip off the gag and scream her head off. Instead, she grabbed her knife and sawed on the ropes that secured her wrists.
Mercy, was it only yesterday that she’d had to free herself from confining ropes to escape from Jarvis? She was getting far more experience as an escape artist than she preferred. Maybe she should work up an act and take it on the road with the theater troupe.
She allowed herself a wry smile, thinking her new career would infuriate her snobbish mother to no end—which made it tremendously appealing to Bri.
First things first, she reminded herself as she pulled her hands free. It was time to give the devil his due.