Grace (The Marriage Market Book 2) (7 page)

"Not unless I have too."

"Oh dear, I think I may be ill." Fanning her face, Grace fell back against the seat.

"Oh buck up, Gracie, things are just starting to get interesting," Effie said with a grin.

              Approximately two and a half hours later, Jonah lifted Lacy onto the seat of the only carriage still available for hire when he got to the livery. Miss Crumb happily agreed to sit in back, giving Jonah the pleasure of having Lacy all to himself. If there was a nervous warning traveling down his spine, he chose to ignore it and instead concentrated on enjoying the undivided attention of a young woman he found captivating.

              It wasn't until they were a few miles out of town, near a stand of cottonwood trees that he realized his mistake. The gun pressed between his shoulder blades made it abundantly clear he'd been hoodwinked.

              "Kindly remove your gun belt, Mr. Blackthorn and hand it to me carefully," Miss Crumb instructed.

"I don't understand," Jonah replied, reaching to unbuckle his belt.

              "No, I don't imagine you do, but unless you follow my instructions to the letter, things will be come much clearer."

              Jonah handed the belt behind him and heard her drop it to the floor of the wagon. Under normal circumstances he would have taken the lady on in a very uncivilized manner, but the look on Lacy's face stopped him. She was scared to death.

              "Miss Crumb," he said sternly. "I strongly suggest you stop this foolishness immediately before someone gets hurt. You have no idea who you're dealing with."

              "Oh, I think I do, Mr. Blackthorn and I'm sure I'll know much more in a moment or two. Now get down from the wagon and remove your clothing. And don't pull any heroic moves if you please. I'd really hate to shoot you."

              Jonah jumped off the seat, intending to roll under the wagon and catch Miss Crumb off guard until he could get his other gun out of his boot.

              "I mean it," Effie said, keeping her pistol trained on his chest. "My friend here seems to have taken a liking to you and it would cause me great pain to kill you, but I will if need be. Now why are you following us?"

              "Following you?" he demanded. "I'm not following you, I just happened to be going in the same direction."

              "Stop lying and get those clothes off," Effie snapped, cocking the gun. "Who do you work for, Mr. Blackthorn? Toss those breeches up to Lacy and the boots too."

              Furious, Jonah toed off his boots, his last hope of coming out of this on top crushed as the small gun fell out and hit the ground.

"Kick it away, Mr. Blackthorn and make it good."

              Following her instruction, he glanced at Lacy, noting the pasty white skin and shocked eyes.

              "I believe you're upsetting your
good friend
," he drawled as he unbuttoned his coat and shirt and tossed them into the wagon.

              "She'll survive; Lacy look through his pockets for some identification. I'm sorry but we don't have much time so hurry along with those pants. I want your socks too. If you cooperate, I may let you keep your underthings," she offered with a smile. "Is there anything important in his pockets, Lacy?"

              "Just some money and his Pinkerton identification," Lacy sighed, rummaging through his clothing. "There's also a photograph of some red haired girl and a reward posting for five thousand dollars for her safe return," she whispered.

              "Just so you know, Ladies, I've been aware of who you were from the moment I stepped on the train. Grace, I could have taken you into custody at any time, but I was trying to do the right thing and allow you to have an uneventful journey."

              "And what were you going to do with me once we reached San Francisco?" Grace demanded, standing and leaning toward him.

              "Why turn you over to the authorities, and collect my reward of course," Jonah shot back, struggling not to be moved by the stricken look on her face.

Grace gasped.

              "Shoot him, Effie! He's a scoundrel of the worst sort, acting like he was interested in me when all he was after was the money. He didn't concern himself one whit about why I ran away or the horrible things Horace tried to do to me. Shoot him."

              "I wish I could Gracie, I really do, but the most I can do is wound him. Would that make you happy?" Effie asked, sympathetically.

              Grace appeared to think this over, while Jonah wanted to kick his own ass. Not only had he screwed this entire case up by getting personally involved, he'd hurt a young woman who'd obviously already suffered at the hands of a man.

              "Give me your side of the story, Grace. Tell me what happened to make you run away and maybe I can help you," he pleaded.

              "No, I could never trust you now," she said sadly. "I'll bet your mother's name isn't Grace either!"

"It most certainly is."

              "Is she dead?  Did she pass away waiting for her long lost son to return to her side?" Grace asked with a sneer.

              "No, she's very much alive and living in Baltimore," he admitted, fighting to keep the sheepish expression from his face. These two miscreants already had the upper hand. He'd be damned if he'd give them any more satisfaction.

Grace gasped.

"Toss your pants up here."

Jonah complied. There was nothing else he could do at the moment.

"Start walking," Effie ordered, motioning with her pistol.

              Head down he trudged away toward the fort, yelping each time his foot connected with a sharp stone. When he was a substantial distance away, he looked over his shoulder and watched Effie lift her skirts and climb over the seat, turn the rig around and crack the reins. Soon they were hell bent for election headed back to the station.

* * * * *

              "Toss his clothes out along the side of the road," Effie instructed just before they reached the outskirts of town. "We don't need any suspicious questions when the carriage goes back to the livery."

              Grace tossed an item every few feet until all that was left was his coat which she brought to her nose taking a big sniff of his cologne before she sent it sailing.

"Are you all right?" Effie asked gently.

"Yes, I just wish we'd taken his underwear too."

"Whatever for?" Effie asked, shocked.

"Then I would know if he has a hairy ass."

              Effie was still laughing when they pulled up to the station. Climbing down, she tossed a coin to a boy and asked him to take the rig back to the livery. By the time they were back in their compartment and the train was pulling out of the station, she figured Jonah was beginning to locate his clothes.

              "Thank goodness that's over," Grace sighed, stripping off her wig and shaking out her red hair. I'm almost sick of being a brunette. At least we got rid of him."

              "Oh we're not rid of him, not by a long shot. Believe me, Grace he'll be hot on our trail in no time. It's strange, but I have a feeling he would have let you go if he knew the whole story and were it not for that reward. Imagine that weasel Horace putting a five thousand dollar price on your head, as though you were a criminal," she said indignantly. "I'll bet by now Mr. Blackthorn isn't the only one hunting us. I'm sorry, but I think you're going to have to keep that wig."

Grace was thoughtful for a long while before she spoke.

"I'm sorry I got you into all this, Effie," she said sadly. "Maybe when we get to San Francisco, I should just turn myself over to the authorities and you should go on to Seattle. Amelia needs you and I'm only going to slow you down if we have to watch our every move and sneak around."

              "Are you kidding, I'm having the time of my life," Effie replied with a laugh. "I wanted adventure and we are certainly having that. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to outwit a pompous male who thinks he has a superior mind. I'll bet Mr. Blackthorn is cursing the day he ever accepted this assignment." Taking off her own mousy brown wig, she ran her fingers through her blonde curls.

              "But what about when we get to San Francisco? There may be others watching and waiting for us. How are we ever going to get around the city without being discovered?"

              "I've been thinking about that," Effie said opening her reticule and pulling out a wad of money. "Do to the kindness of Mr. Blackthorn, we now have some extra money to fund our travels. I think a trip to the theater is in order as soon as we arrive."

"The theater?"

              "Yes, I have a plan. Here," she said, tossing Grace Jonah's identification. "Would you like to keep this to remember him by?"

Grace caught the packet and stared at it before dropping it into her bag.

"I'll keep it, but only to remind me a handsome face and attentive manner does not make a man a gentleman. I doubt I'll have any trouble remembering Mr. Blackthorn," she finished with a sigh.

              "Oh dear, you haven't fallen in love with him or anything like that, have you?" Effie asked fretfully.

              "No," Grace insisted. "In fact, if I ever see him again I may shoot him myself," she continued, turning away to wipe a tear.

* * * * *

              Jonah stumbled along, cussing each time his foot came in contact with a sharp stone. Walking on the side of the road was no better as there was plenty of brush to stab thorns into his tender soles. His driving motivation at this point was to get his hands on Miss Crumb or Miss Lane, or whatever the hell her real name was.

              Never in his career had he been outsmarted by a woman. The fact that the two culprits were not even out of their teens was a bitter blow. Grace Wentworth he could overlook to a certain extent. She was lovely and sweet and it was no wonder he became blinded by her stunning figure and unassuming way. No, it was the little brat who got the drop on him that infuriated him. Someone better damn well put a stop to her shenanigans before she got herself hurt.

              Even in his anger, he had to admit it was admirable, the way she defended her friend, but that was no excuse for her behavior. He could just have easily been a lying, low-life criminal of the roughest sort, who would have knocked her ass over teakettle out of the wagon in a heartbeat. Had she been a man, she would have gotten a stiff elbow in her belly that sent her flying. It was only that he didn't really want to hurt her, or have a stray shot from her gun accidentally hit Grace that stopped him from turning the tables on her. A different type of man might have taken both their money and their virtue. Somebody needed to give that girl a spanking the likes of which she'd never seen. In his opinion, it would straighten her out and right quick too.

              His anger faded slightly with each piece of discarded clothing he discovered along the way. By the time he reached town, he was fully dressed but for one missing sock and a painful blister was beginning to rise on his left heel. Stomping to the telegraph office, he talked the clerk into wiring the agency for assistance and proceeded to cool his heels for the next two hours awaiting a reply. Finally it came, and he was off to the bank to secure funds before returning to the depot to purchase another ticket to San Francisco departing the next day.

              It wasn't until he was resting on his bed after eating an enormous steak dinner that he began to wonder what had driven Gracie to flee from her obviously wealthy fiancé. She didn't appear to be a non-compliant sort of young woman. In fact, she was extremely congenial as far as he could tell. Soft-spoken with impeccable manners, she was even adorable while she was lying through her teeth. Each time he'd maneuvered her into expanding on her story; her face would pale, making the smattering of freckles across her nose stand out. It was fascinating to watch and he found himself forcing her into such a position over and over again. Twice she'd come to the dining room without remembering to darken her eyebrows, a sure sign she wasn't used to deception. Now he had to wonder what would make a girl like Grace run away. What was so elementally wrong with Horace Remington that she would put herself at great risk to escape him? When he caught up to them, and he would, that was the first thing he was planning to find out. Finally he let his body relax. They only had about a twenty-four hour jump on him. How much trouble could they get into in that short amount of time, he wondered as he dosed off.

* * * * *

              Amelia opened the door to her mother-in-law who breezed by her in a cloud of French perfume.

              "Come, ma petite," she insisted. "I know my son has finally returned to work, and for once the sun is shining. Such a dismal place, Seattle, always rain, rain and more rain. But it cannot put me in a foul mood this day," she said with a smile.

              "Ah, I am a bad Ma Ma. I haven't even asked you how things are with my son. Are you happy, my angel? I think yes, you are positively glowing," she observed as she kissed Amelia's cheek, not waiting for an answer. "Get your cloak; we are going for a ride."

              "Where are we going, Ma Ma?" Amelia asked as she hurried to comply. "Hugh has forbidden me from going up to the logging camps without him."

              "Ha, he is afraid another handsome man will steal you away?" she teased. "It is always the same. Men want a beautiful woman and then spend their lives fretting she will be stolen away by another. Such silly creatures," she sighed as she helped her new daughter into her cloak. "But no, we do not go to the camps today. We go to see the Mademoiselles. We are going to have a party and there is much to plan."

"A party, oh how wonderful," Amelia cried, hurrying out the door behind her.

Tempest stopped and looked at the joy on Amelia's face.

"You are so lovely," she said, smiling gently. "It is no wonder my son has a hard time leaving you to go to work." Cupping her cheek, she continued. "And you are happy. I can see it, my darling, and this makes me happy too. Now if you give me a petit enfant I shall be the happiest woman alive."