Nan Ryan (44 page)

It was a riverboat, that much was apparent from a mile away. As they drew closer to the conflagration Nevada could see what was—or had been—a huge palatial river-boat with the fire-blistered name
John Hammer
painted in bold black letters above the flaming twin paddlewheels.

John Hammer!

Dear God, the
John Hammer
was the very one! Everyone in St. Louis had heard that the big game was to be played aboard the
John Hammerl

Nevada was out of the carriage and running by the time Jess pulled up on the reins. Not caring what Malcolm or Quincy or anyone else thought, she lifted the skirts of her silk ballgown and flew madly down the wooden levee toward the roaring blaze.

Knocked flat onto his back by falling, burning debris, Johnny struggled up, crawled on his hands and knees through smoke so black and acrid he could see nothing. Choking and gasping for air, he was disoriented, with no idea where the door was.

His lungs burning, his head reeling, Johnny foolishly rose to his feet and immediately felt the world spin out of control as unconsciousness began its powerful, seductive pull on him.

But just before he blacked out, an eerie apparition appeared in flames and smoke. As Johnny’s knees began to buckle, a pair of strong arms reached out to him and, for a fleeting second of complete clarity and grateful understanding, Johnny saw the unmistakably ugly face of Stryker.

*   *   *  

On the landing Nevada made her way through the swarms of stunned, dazed people fleeing the burning riverboat. Despite the screams and shouts of the injured, she hurried headlong toward the blazing boat, ignoring the intense heat.

When a steward, his once immaculate uniform smoldering and torn, staggered onto the pier, Nevada seized his sleeve. “Johnny, Johnny Roulette! Have you seen him? Is he all right?”

The steward’s sorrowful eyes locked with hers as he urged her away from the lost vessel. “I’m sorry, Miss. John Roulette was below in the card salon. It went first. I don’t believe any of the gentlemen …” He shrugged and freed himself from her clutches.

Her teeth chattering, her eyes wide with panic, Nevada stood like a zombie, mesmerized by the flames shooting fifty feet into the air. In stunned disbelief she kept murmuring Johnny’s name.

When Malcolm’s arms went around her shoulders to draw her away from the inferno, Nevada began to scream and to fight him.

“No! No! Johnny’s on that boat! Johnny, Johnny!”

She struggled like a wild woman, beating on Malcolm’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably, overcome with grief and with guilt. If only she had been with Johnny, her luck would have saved his life. It was her fault, all her fault!

Inconsolable, Nevada wept and blurted out the truth to Malcolm and his mother. She tearfully told them of her background and of her undying love for Johnny Roulette. She sobbed Johnny’s name over and over again, her heart broken. Malcolm, an understanding man, gently comforted Nevada, murmuring words of solace while Quincy remained tight-lipped and speechless. Old Jess was crying like a baby.

Among a large crowd they all stood there on the levee and watched, horrified, while the mighty
John Hammer
burned down to the water line.

All hope gone, Malcolm finally persuaded the distraught Nevada to return to the Lucas Place townhouse. Once there Nevada sought the comforting arms of Miss Annabelle. The two women clung together and grieved for the man they had both loved.

Miss Annabelle led the weeping Nevada upstairs, leaving Malcolm and Quincy alone in the drawing room.

Quincy spoke first, her tone bitter. “Fitting isn’t it? Even in death, John Roulette manages to make fools of us.”

“Mother, in all fairness, I don’t believe we can blame John—rest his soul—for what has happened here.”

“No, I don’t suppose. The fault lies with that calculating little impostor upstairs!”

Malcolm lifted the stopper from a cut-crystal decanter. “Mother, you and I are just as much impostors as Nevada.” He poured himself a drink of whiskey.

“That’s not so,” said Quincy, frowning. She sighed wearily, then asked, “Now what will you do?”

Malcolm turned to face her. “I’ve lost my fianceé but there’s always the university. English literature—it’s my life’s work, my deepest interest.”

Quincy glared at him. “That’s fine for you but what about me?”

For the first time in his life Malcolm Maxwell stood up to his overbearing mother. “Perhaps you can marry for money. I do not intend to do so.”

Before Quincy could give her biting reply, a disturbance in the corridor drew their attention. Nevada and Miss Annabelle, upstairs packing, heard it as well.

The front door burst open and a deep, familiar voice said loudly, “I’m home! Where is everybody?”

Nevada looked at Miss Annabelle, dropped the garment she was holding, and ran from the room. Laughing and crying at once, she flew down the stairs and straight into the welcoming arms of a bedraggled, very-much-alive Johnny Roulette.

Oblivious to those around them, she kissed his soot-streaked face, murmuring, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.”

Lifting her high in his arms, Johnny laughed happily and said, “Darlin’, your good luck saved me. Without you at my side, I was tapped out by ten o’clock!”

“You were topside all along?” she quizzed, her hands sliding over his tattered shirt.

“Not exactly. I went back down to see about the rest of the boys and got trapped. Stryker pulled me out of the fire, saved my life.”

“Oh, thank God, and thank Stryker,” she said happily and Johnny saw the love shining in her tear-bright eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he said, “I love you. I’ll give up gambling if you’ll marry me.”

Deliriously happy, Nevada replied, “Eight to five says you won’t be able to do it.” She hugged him tighter, kissed a singed eyebrow, and said against his dirty face, “but I don’t care.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

41

Moon-silvered clouds drifted high above the winding Mississippi River. The mellow lunar light shone down on a slow-moving riverboat of pristine white whose fancy curlicues and gingerbread made the vessel look, appropriately enough, like a giant floating wedding cake.

Wind-swayed white sheer curtains allowed the silvery moonlight to spill into an opulent stateroom and onto a white-and-gold marble topped bedside table. Upon that table, catching and reflecting the light of the moonbeams, lay a carefully placed glittering diamond-and-sapphire necklace. Beside the necklace were a handful of carelessly tossed gleaming gold studs.

On a large, high bed beside the table was a small, pale white, naked woman. Wide awake, she lay carefully on her side, her hands folded beneath her pale cheek, her knees slightly drawn up. Beside her in that soft white bed lay a big, dark, naked man. Sound asleep, he was sprawled carelessly on his back, a muscular arm flung up on the pillow, his bronzed feet apart

Smiling in the pale moonlight, Nevada looked at her husband’s sleeping face and sighed with peace and contentment. Johnny was, she thought naughtily, prettier without his clothes than with them. He had been without them for most of this lovely, lazy trip downriver. And so had she.

Her adoring eyes slid the length of his dark lean body. Lord, he
was
beautiful! He had been a such a handsome groom, standing there in the morning sunlight, smiling down at her.

A shiver of joy surging through her bare body, Nevada dreamily relived the wonderful wedding day, the best day of her life.

The plans had been made swiftly. She and Johnny would marry aboard the riverboat taking them downriver. And they would all go to New Orleans to live. She, Johnny, Miss Annabelle, Stryker, and old Jess. One big happy family-

They had boarded the riverboat
Eastern Princess
at sunup. Immediately the mighty steamer eased away from the levee and headed south. When they passed under the spectacular Eads Bridge, Captain Timothy Bayless, spiffy in his starched summer whites, turned the wheel over to his pilot and appeared on the texas deck.

While the skyline of St. Louis grew smaller and dimmer in the background, Nevada and Johnny stood before Captain Bayless as he performed the wedding ceremony. Crying quietly and holding a lovely bouquet of white roses, Miss Annabelle stood beside Nevada. Grinning as though he knew a big secret, the gentle giant Stryker stood ready to give the bride away. Wiping at his watering eyes with a clean white handkerchief, old Jess, standing beside Johnny, was Johnny’s best man.

Captain Bayless cleared his throat, lifted a Bible, and began the ceremony. Johnny and Nevada looked into each other’s eyes, then at the captain as he said, “Who gives this bride away?”

They waited. They stared at Stryker. Stryker was supposed to say that he did. Stryker smiled. Said nothing. Nevada frowned. Johnny gave him a questioning look.

Then a familiar voice from behind said firmly, “I do.”

All heads turned to see a smiling silver-haired man with an orchid in his buttonhole, a malacca cane in his hand, and a smile as bright as the summer sun on his face. He came quickly forward.

“King!” Nevada said loudly and impulsively threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

Shaking hands with Johnny, King Cassidy kissed Nevada’s cheek, then took her hand in his, and placed it on top of Johnny’s. He said to Captain Bayless, “I give this woman away.” And he stepped back, folding his hands before him as the ceremony continued.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Captain Bayless said at last and Johnny swept his bride into his arms and kissed her soundly while the others laughed and applauded.

When they broke apart, everyone pressed forward to kiss the bride and shake hands with the groom. Champagne and wedding cake were served right there on the texas deck, despite the fact it was not yet seven
A.M.

While toasts were drunk to the newlyweds and laughter filled the air, Miss Annabelle, her face flushed, her heart in her throat, cast a nervous glance at King Cassidy. He was looking straight at her. And he was smiling. Her knees began to shake when he approached and took her hand, leading her to the boat’s railing.

“Annabelle,” he said quietly, and gently squeezed her hand.

She looked up at him. “It … it is lovely to see you again, King. I didn’t know you had returned from England.”

“I’ve been back for several weeks now.”

“Are you … will you soon be going home?”

“I’m on my way there now.”

A puzzled look came into her eyes. “How can that be, King? Why the state of Nevada is—”

“No longer my home,” he said evenly. “I’ve bought a place just north of Baton Rouge.”

Her eyes widened.

King grinned. “A beautiful old place, though it will need a bit of fixing up. The last owners didn’t care for it as they should have.”

Miss Annabelle was staring at him, her lips parted. “You don’t mean … you didn’t buy—”

“I did, Miss Annabelle. I bought the Delaney family mansion and I mean to live there.” King raised her frail hand in both of his, pressed it to his heart, and said, “I’d like very much to have you live there with me. Will you, dear?”

Flustered, happy, nervous, Miss Annabelle said, “I couldn’t … we couldn’t live there together without benefit—”

“Oh, dear woman, I’m obtuse! Forgive me. I’m asking you to marry me. I want you to be my wife. There, I’ve said it! Turn me down and at least I will have tried.” King’s eyes narrowed slightly and his hands tightened on hers. “Sweet Annabelle, say yes. Let me take you to your home.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

King’s arm went around her, he kissed her temple, and said, “Shall we have Captain Bayless do double duty this morning, my dear?”

Miss Annabelle, her eyes aglow, said, “No, King. Today’s the children’s day and, besides, I … I always dreamed of being married in the drawing room of my home.”

King’s blue eyes twinkled. “And so you shall be.” He kissed her again and called out to the others. “Miss Annabelle has agreed to be my wife.”

More applause and laughter and hugs and kisses. And then Johnny whispered in Nevada’s ear, “How long do we have to stay?”

“Why?” she teased. “You aiming to play a morning poker game?”

He replied, “I’m aiming to play this morning but the game’s more enjoyable than poker.”

“I haven’t finished my champagne.”

“There’s champagne chilling in the stateroom.”

Nevada smiled and called to the others, “Thank you all for making this the happiest day of my life!” She looked at Miss Annabelle, winked, and tossed her the bridal bouquet. Then without another word, Johnny picked up his bride and carried her away.

When he reached the door of their stateroom, he bent down so Nevada could turn the knob. Johnny walked inside, closed the door with his back, and stood against it, kissing her.

When their lips separated, he leaned his dark head back against the door and said, “I love you, Mrs. Roulette. More than you will ever know.”

Slowly he lowered her to her feet. For a long moment they stood there looking at each other. Nevada, suddenly shy, nervously put her arms around Johnny’s waist and buried her face on his chest. He felt her small body tremble against him.