Hands on her hips, Mary Margaret paced the floor of the hotel room in front of Uncle Dillard. “I don’t see why I can’t just hire a maid to go with me.” Yes, she was angry—furious actually—and taking it out on the poor man. But her uncle had sought out someone to escort her home without even asking her opinion.
Underneath the anger though, there was more … she hurt. Ached. Grieved the loss of Father. And no matter what predicament they were in, she didn’t believe it warranted her needing to deal with a man she barely knew while she mourned.
It was all too much.
“That’s unacceptable and you know it.” The man looked as if he’d aged ten years in the past few days. “Whether you admit it or not, you’re in more danger than you realize. Even if I were escorting you home, I’d hire someone to help protect us.”
She plopped into a wingback chair. Very unladylike, but she didn’t care. “But why Mr. Delaney? I’ve only met him the one time, and I don’t believe I made the best first impression, which would make for a very uncomfortable trip.”
“Uncomfortable or not doesn’t matter. Your father trusted the man. We know everything there is to know about him, and he will be able to protect you. That’s all that matters.”
“I still don’t like it.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. She hated sounding like a whiny child, but she’d buried her father just that morning. All she really wanted to do was curl up in a ball on her bed and cry. Her life would never be the same. “Why can’t I just wait for you to finish?”
He walked over to her and took her hand. “Because you might miss the deadline, and your father’s holdings would be lost.” A knock at the door tore his attention away.
Even though he was right, she didn’t want to admit it. Whether she liked it or not, it appeared she would be traveling with Mr. Delaney to Colorado.
If the trip didn’t upset her enough, the thought of facing her sisters and their husbands made her want to run away to Canada and never return. Martha and Mabel were sure to make life miserable the instant Mary Margaret set foot in Denver. The two were thick as thieves and just as conniving.
Then there was the fact that Father wouldn’t be with her. She’d never faced them without him. And what about their wretched husbands? How would she keep them at bay?
“I have an idea.” Dillard stood before her. “This telegram just arrived. It appears the firm is working on several matters on their end, and a replacement is already on the way up here.” He tapped the paper to his chin. “What if I initiated a rumor in town about how difficult this is for you and that you won’t leave without me? We might draw out the killer. I could appeal to the local law enforcement and see if they can apprehend the man. Meanwhile, you and Delaney head out on the steamship for Prince Rupert in Canada. You can rest and hide there a few days to see if I can catch up. We could all travel together from there. But if I’m not there by say, the fifteenth, you all go on without me.”
It wasn’t her first choice, but it was better than going the entire trip without him. “I guess … if we must.”
He placed his hands behind his back and walked to the door. “Good. I’ll get a maid to help you finish packing and arrange for transportation down to the dock. Mr. Delaney should be here soon.” Uncle Dillard turned and looked back to her. “It’ll be all right. I’ll feel much safer once you are on your way.”
When the door clicked shut behind him, Mary Margaret collapsed back into the chair. Everything from the past few days washed over her. While she understood the gravity of the situation, her heart refused to believe it.
Numb. That’s how she felt. Father was gone and he wouldn’t be coming back. What good was it for her to inherit everything if she couldn’t share it with her best friend? She had no one else. Not a single friend or even family member that she could trust with the depths of her heart.
Another knock at the door preceded a maid’s entrance. “Miss, I’m here to help you pack.”
Mary Margaret took a shaky breath. “Thank you. Please go ahead and finish this trunk. I’ll fetch my valise out of the other room.”
When she was once again alone, she allowed the tears to flow.
The docks teemed with noise and unwashed bodies. Mr. Delaney towered above her on one side, while Uncle Dillard stood on the other. The day was a horrible blur. Beginning with the burial of her father and ending with a good-bye to the only other person she knew up here.
Dillard moved forward. “I’ll go find out if they are ready for you to board.”
Fiddlesticks. Now she was alone with the big bodyguard. Hopefully, he wouldn’t want to talk—
“I’m sorry about your father.”
Even though his voice was soothing, his kind words did nothing to help the rough places around her heart. To be frank, she’d prefer not to hear anyone else be sorry for her loss. But she should at least show him manners. “Thank you.”
“I know he was the best of men.”
“Yes, he was.” Now could the big man please be quiet?
“I’m honored that he chose me to manage his mines.”
Apparently not. “Uh-huh.” She turned her face away from him.
He leaned over into her peripheral vision. “Are you all right?”
Exasperating man. Why couldn’t he just leave her be? Despite her every effort, more tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She’d cried enough today for a lifetime and didn’t need the man beside her to think any less of her. With a swallow and a deep breath, she found her voice. “I’m fine.”
Abrupt. To the point. If she could keep him from talking to her for the next few weeks, they’d do just fine.
“Well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
No, she did not. Would not. Ever. She sighed. How did she get into this mess?
Mr. Dillard stomped toward them, a storm brewing on his brow. “It would seem there’s damage to the steam engine. And we cannot afford the delay. There isn’t another ship for two days.”
Was it terrible that she thought of that as good news?
Mr. Talkative crossed his arms. “What do you think we should do?”
“Well, since it’s too late in the day to do much, I think we should go back to the hotel and formulate a new plan.”
“All right then.” Mr. Delaney offered her his elbow.
At least she could go to bed. Maybe sleep would claim her and she wouldn’t have to face the coming weeks.
A scraping sound brought Charles awake. Not that he slept all that well on a divan that was three feet too short for his frame. But all seemed quiet. He’d been dreaming about the decision he’d made that day and felt a little guilty. Was it wrong for him to choose the path with the largest profit? Dillard agreed that Jasper could know he needed to take a business trip and that he would be the mine’s owner when he returned. Jasper had understood and rejoiced with him, but Charles still wished he could be there to see the boys hit the big payout. They were so close—he could feel it. But it wasn’t likely he could get back for at least five weeks.
Thump!
Where had that noise come from? He sat up and wiped a hand down his face.
Two more thumps.
From Mary Margaret’s bedroom. He jerked his head toward her door. The living area where he slept sat in the middle with Mr. Dillard sleeping in the room her father had occupied on the other side.
In his stocking feet, he headed for the room. Maybe she was having a nightmare?
Three rapid thumps. He ran—she could yell at him later for the unseemliness, but his gut told him something wasn’t right.
Storming through the door, Charles was shocked to see a shadowy figure hovering over Miss Abbot’s bed. A breeze blew in from the open window. The figure threw something down, ran to the window, and jumped out.
Charles pursued but tripped over a pillow in the dark room—the killer’s choice of weapon?—and fell hard. By the time he reached the window, the figure was gone.
All the air had gone out of him. Mr. Dillard hadn’t been overly cautious. He’d been right.
He turned toward the bed and heard footsteps from behind. “Are you all right?”
Mr. Dillard turned on the lights, and Charles got a good look at her face.
White as a sheet, Mary Margaret sat on her bed. Eyes wide and hair disheveled. “I … I don’t know. It all occurred so fast.” Gone was the grieving woman from the docks who’d been trying to hold it together. Gone was the businesslike lady from the mine. And in her place sat a small and terrified, young-looking girl.
Dillard went to her side. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “I woke up with a pillow being pressed over my face.” Her voice wobbled. “I couldn’t breathe. I tried to get free and make noise … but …” She sucked in a big breath and looked straight into Charles’s eyes. “If … if Mr. Delaney hadn’t heard, I … I …”
The older man patted her hand. “It’s all right. You’re all right now.” But his expression to Charles told a different story. Fear etched a few more lines into the man’s brow. “Thank you, Charles.”
“Yes, thank you … you … you saved my life.” Miss Abbot took in a deep breath.
Dillard stood up straight. “Let’s give you a minute to compose yourself. Mr. Delaney and I will wait for you in the living area.”
Miss Abbot nodded.
The feeling that settled into Charles’s chest wasn’t describable. He didn’t want to leave her alone, she looked shaken to her core—who could blame her? The giant bed swallowed her and she seemed … so very fragile. He had the urge to wrap her up and protect her for the rest of her life.