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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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Harvey and Smith both smiled. “It's understandable,” Harvey replied. “But apparently now that this man has taken some sort of advantage of you, he seems reluctant to own up to his part in the matter.”

“I had no part in the matter,” Braeden declared angrily. This time he pushed Ivy away from him, nearly causing her to fall. Had a couple of the Harvey Girls not stepped forward to help Ivy regain her balance, she would have done just that.

“Oh, Braeden,” Ivy said, tears streaming down her face. “Don't be like this. You know I love you, and I promise to be a good wife. I don't care what happened last night. I don't even care if I'm carrying your child right now.” There were notable gasps from around the gathered audience. “I simply need you now more than ever. Auntie is dead and I'm all alone.”

Smith moved forward. “Is this true? Mrs. Needlemeier is really dead?”

Ivy sobbed and brought the edge of her apron to her face. “Yes.

We were discussing my behavior and the need for Mr. Parker to save my reputation and marry me when she succumbed to some sort of apoplexy and collapsed on the staircase.”

“Then why are you here?” Braeden questioned. “Dressed for a day of work, no less.”

“I couldn't bear to be there alone,” Ivy said, meeting the sympathetic nods of Mr. Smith and Mr. Harvey. “I wanted to be with the one person I knew could offer me comfort. The man I love.”

Braeden felt everyone turn their attention to him, as if he held the key to the entire puzzle. With a sense of animosity and irritation that he'd never known, Braeden shook his head. “I've had about all I'm going to stand of this. She's lying about there being anything between us,” he said aloud, directing his gaze to Fred Harvey's doubtful expression. “She was jealous of the friendship I shared with Miss Taylor—a friendship developed long before I ever came to Casa Grande. I'm deeply ashamed to have fallen for such a manipulation, but in truth, I didn't know to what degree this young woman would stoop in order to eliminate her competition.” Just then the thought of the rattlesnake came to mind. He frowned. The situation was beginning to clear, and he could see and understand more of what had once been clouded and obscured. “I think I'm starting to realize it now,” he muttered.

Ivy once again moved to embrace him but stopped directly in front of him. “I'm not ashamed of my actions. I love you and no matter what, I'm not ashamed.” She looked to Mr. Harvey. “I don't even mind bearing a child because of it. As long as it's
his
child.”

“There is no child!” Braeden raged, unable to contain his anger.

“Because there was nothing more than your errant plan to seduce me.”

He reached out as if to shake her, then stopped and stepped away. “I wouldn't marry you if you were the last available woman on earth. You are corrupt and conniving and you may lie all you like, but it won't change the matter.”

“I say,” Reginald stated, stepping closer to Ivy, “I witnessed the entire matter. There seemed to be no error on Miss Brooks's part. She was intoxicated, but that, too, came at the forced will of Mr. Parker.”

“She came to me drunk!” Braeden declared.

Reginald's brow furrowed ever so slightly. “He was carrying her, half clothed, to a fainting couch. It was quite clear what had taken place, and what would have continued to take place.”

“Is this true?” Fred Harvey asked Braeden seriously.

“No,” Braeden replied, gritting his teeth together. “It's not true. Miss Brooks staged the entire thing in order to force herself upon me. She knows my interest lies elsewhere. Now the real crisis of the morning is not whether or not Miss Brooks's reputation has been ruined. It's not even that Mrs. Needlemeier has passed on to her eternal reward. The problem is that Rachel Taylor is missing and has been ever since she witnessed Miss Brooks's little charade last night.”

“Missing? What do you mean?” Harvey questioned.

“I mean, no one has seen her since she fled the Needlemeier mansion. Worthington, here, went after her, but he claims to have had no luck in discovering her whereabouts.”

Reginald shrugged. “I tried to follow her, but she was apparently running. She was completely gone from sight when I came out of the mansion, but I can't say I blame her. Mr. Parker had made suggestive promises to her as well. I think it simply devastated her to know that she had been duped into believing him honorable.”

Braeden scowled and seethed at the suggestion that he had led Rachel astray. Supposition and lies had destroyed his life six years ago, and he would not stand for it to happen again.

Fred Harvey rubbed his bearded face. “This appears to be quite a disturbing situation. However, we can discuss this at length in private. Right now it would seem the dining room should be readied for breakfast. Who's in charge?”

Gwen stepped forward. “I am, sir. I'm the head waitress, Miss Carson.”

Harvey nodded. “Very well, Miss Carson, I suggest you get your girls to their stations and ready yourself for the day. Miss Brooks, I believe you should return home and see to your aunt's funeral arrangements, and Mr. Parker—” “I'm going to look for Rachel,” Braeden interjected. “Fire me if you must, but that's what I'm going to do.”

He turned without waiting for any other word on the matter and stalked across the lobby feeling nothing but anger blended with fear.

Fear for Rachel—fear for himself. There was an entire audience of people who appeared to believe every word Ivy Brooks said. He would either be forced to leave his position or encouraged to marry Ivy, and neither option was one he wanted. He wanted Rachel, and he wanted to continue at Casa Grande with her at his side.

Tomas waited in the stable yard with four other mounted men.

They were all dark skinned and filthy looking, but Tomas had supplied them with Casa Grande horses, and they appeared quite willing to help with the search.

“Tomas, you know this land better than I do, so I'd like for you to stay with me and act as a guide. The rest of you spread out and see what you can find. Miss Taylor has dark red hair and she stands about as tall as Tomas. She might be injured, so if you find her, fire off your gun once and the rest of us will come to you. Do you understand?”

Tomas relayed the information in Spanish just to make certain no one misunderstood the situation. When the four men nodded, Braeden mounted his horse and headed toward the open valley behind the stables. “Wait up!” a voice called out from behind them.

Braeden turned to find Jeffery O'Donnell coming up fast from First Street.

“Glad you could make it,” Braeden stated, trying hard to give the man a welcoming smile.

Jeffery brought his horse to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust. “I couldn't sleep anyway. I would have been here sooner, but I wanted to check in at the depot and make sure she hadn't caught a train out of Morita. No one there has seen anything of her. What about here? Still no word?”

“None. No one has seen anything of her since yesterday evening.

I've looked all around Casa Grande, but she just isn't here. Now we're going to head out and explore the countryside around the resort. She could have wandered off, not paying any attention to where she was going. Maybe she got lost.”

Jeffery nodded. “I don't know my way around here very well, but I'll do what I can.”

“I'm going out with Tomas. Why don't you go with one of the other men? They're all familiar with the area.”

Jeffery looked to the four riders and questioned the man who appeared to be the oldest in the bunch. “May I ride with you?”

“Si
,” the man said without further acknowledgment.

“Then let's get to it,” Braeden said. “Let's plan to meet back here around noon.” They all nodded and headed off in different directions, while Braeden watched them go. He felt a squeezing tightness in his chest as his mind asked a hundred questions he couldn't answer. What if they didn't find her? What if she had somehow left the area altogether? What if …

“Help me to find her, Lord,” Braeden finally prayed. He pushed aside his worry and urged the horse forward. “Keep her safe and don't let harm come to her. Let her know the truth about me and what happened. Let her trust the love she has for me—the love I have for her.” The prayer was barely whispered aloud, but Braeden wanted to shout it to the skies. He wanted to plead over and over for the life of this woman—but he knew he had to keep an eye on the trail. He had to remain alert and concentrate on anything that might give him a sign to Rachel's whereabouts.

They rendezvoused at noon without anyone having seen any sign of Rachel, and hours later, with a storm brewing on the horizon and the temperature dropping from the breezes off the thunderstorm, Braeden was growing increasingly worried. He studied the landscape around him as Tomas tested an obscure little trail that led up into the foothills. The sandy soil seemed stark and lifeless. An occasional flash of life came in the form of a jackrabbit or mouse, but that was it. Even the skies overhead seemed unusually empty.

His throat felt parched from the long day on the dusty trail, and tipping up his canteen, he was alarmed to find it nearly empty. They would have to find water or return to town.

“No one has passed this way, senor,” Tomas told Braeden as he led his horse back down to where Braeden rested.

“Is there water nearby?” he questioned. “My canteen is nearly dry.”

“We could go back to the river,” Tomas suggested.

“If we do that, we might as well go back to Casa Grande.”

“That might be best, senor. The storm is still coming this way, and it won't be long before we lose the light.”

Braeden looked toward the mountains and then at the rapidly approaching weather. Reluctantly he nodded. “I know you're right. I just hate leaving her out here … wherever she is.”

Tomas nodded, then turned his horse to head back in the direction they'd just come. “Maybe she's already gone back to Casa Grande.”

Braeden tried to be encouraged by the thought but knew it was probably far from the truth. Rachel was gone—maybe forever. Braeden had never known anything that hurt so much as acknowledging this possibility.

  
TWENTY-FOUR
  

IVY IGNORED MR. HARVEY'S SUGGESTION that she return home and instead took off to the room she shared with Faith and sequestered herself away to think. The turn of events over the last twenty-four hours left her rather breathless. And in light of her aunt's dying declaration that Ivy would be left penniless, Ivy knew she had to quickly secure herself in marriage to Braeden Parker.

The scene in the dining room had been an added bonus that Ivy had not counted on. She felt especially comforted by the fact that Fred Harvey himself seemed to completely believe her statements regarding Braeden. Surely she could count on the kindly man to force Braeden's hand. She could only hope that once faced with the idea of losing his job and his honorable name, he would succumb and marry her.
And why not?
Ivy reasoned.
It's not like I'm some pudgy farm girl with brown skin and freckles. I'm beautiful and cultured, and I would do him honor by becoming his wife
. She reclined on the bed and punched at her pillow.

BOOK: Hidden in a Whisper
13.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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