Susan Amarillas (26 page)

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Authors: Scanlin's Law

BOOK: Susan Amarillas
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She wore a saucy little hat—pale silk, he recognized that, with tea roses and ribbons trailing down her back.

She was beautiful—regal, actually. She sure was something. Watching her sitting with these important men, well, it made him proud that Rebecca, his Rebecca, had made such a place for herself with the power men of this town.

And, as he looked at her, an ache welled up in him, from deep in the center of his chest. Had any man ever wanted a woman this much? Had any man ever had as much at stake?

After the introductions, he dragged out the only empty chair, which happened to be opposite her.

“Double bourbon,” he told the waiter.

“Little early, isn’t it?” she said, before she remembered where she was.

If her rebuke bothered him, he didn’t show it. In fact, he smiled—a heart-stopping, lazy smile that made her fingers tremble.

“I’m celebrating,” he returned.

Robert spoke up. “Celebrating what?”

Rebecca held her breath.

Luke didn’t hesitate. “An addition to my family.”

“Congratulations. Your wife have a baby?” Robert replied.

“No” was all he said, and Rebecca released the breath she’d been holding. Was it always going to be like this? Was she going to spend the rest of her life on pins and needles, wondering if he was going to show up, wondering if he was going to say the wrong thing, reveal her indiscretion all those years ago? Was she never to get past that? Was Andrew never to be safe? How long could she live like this?

“Hello there, Ed,” Luke said as he accepted his drink from the waiter. He made a slight gesture of salute. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”

The other men watched the exchange silently, curiosity apparent in their expressions.

Edward’s response was less than friendly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited.” He sipped his drink, his gaze openly focused on Rebecca. “Sorry to be late. Official business,” he lied smoothly. He wasn’t about to say he’d been staring out the window for the past several hours trying to figure out a plan to win over the lady sitting four feet away.

Edward’s mouth drew into a hard line, and he leaned toward Rebecca in a way that left no doubt he was staking a claim.

Luke hesitated for a fraction of a second, not liking the man’s possessiveness.

Merl Gates spoke up. “So you and Mr. Pollard know each other.”

“We’ve met.”

The waiter appeared and took their luncheon orders. Rebecca didn’t have much of an appetite. She struggled to make small talk over her plate of poached salmon steak and boiled potatoes.

There was a great deal of talk about Luke’s part in Andrew’s safe return. All those present agreed that Luke was a hero, and quite the topic of conversation these days. There was even the suggestion that he might consider running for political office, that these men would be glad to discuss it further with him.

“I’m not a politician,” Luke told them.

“That’s exactly why we want you. We’re tired of the same handful of men simply moving from one political office to another and back again. Nothing ever changes...except for the worst, of course.”

Luke shook his head. “Gentlemen, I’m flattered, but—”

“Don’t decide now. Think on it, and we’ll talk again,” Merl said in a no-nonsense tone.

Luke chuckled. “All right, if it’ll make you happy, but I don’t see any reason why I’ll change my mind.”

“We’ll see,” Merl muttered. “We’ll see.” He forked a bit of chocolate cake into his mouth. “What about it Rebecca? Would the
Times
support the marshal here, if we convinced him to run for some office...oh, say, like...mayor?” He glanced up, raising his eyebrows.

Before she could answer, Edward cut in. “I hardly think the marshal is interested in being mayor. He’s made that quite clear, and I don’t think we should force him.”

“He’s thinking it over,” Merl returned, scraping his fork over fine china to get the last bit of frosting.

“You know that I’m running for mayor,” Edward said flatly.

Merl feigned surprise. “That’s right. I’d forgotten. Well, you haven’t declared yet, have you?”

“No.”

Merl nodded. “That’s why I’d forgotten.”

“I had thought I would have your support.”

“You’ll have the
Times,
” Merl countered.

Rebecca spoke up. “Actually, he doesn’t.”

Everyone looked surprised. “That is he would, certainly, if...I still owned the
Times.
I don’t. I sold it two days ago.”

One could have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence.

“But—”

“How? When?”

“Tell ‘em why, Becky,” Luke said.

“I don’t care to explain my reasons. Suffice it to say it’s done. The sale is complete.”

“Well,” Merl muttered. “I had no idea.”

Edward cut in. “It’s all for the best, dear Rebecca. It’s been too much for you for a long time, and you’re better off out of it. Why, a woman of your delicate nature in such a harsh business...well, it’s just not right.”

“Edward, really, I—” she began, then stopped, unwilling to discuss her anger and regret at having to surrender the paper. She would certainly have given all she owned, indeed her very life, to save her son.

“Now, now, dear.” He patted her hand. “It’s not up to you to save this city. Let Frank Handley and that new syndicate handle things.” He cast a smug glance around the table. “They’ve already promised to support me, and—” he focused his attention on her “—when I’m mayor, you can count on me to see that there are changes made. Of course, as my wife, I’ll value your opinion.”

Rebecca’s head snapped up. “Edward, I—”

“It’s all right dear.” He patted her hand again. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but—” he grinned at the others present “—I’m certain I can trust these gentlemen to keep this confidential until we make a formal announcement at the party tomorrow night.”

She hadn’t promised Edward, and yet, as she looked at Luke, she thought perhaps it was for the best. If she married Edward, quickly, then there would be no discussion. Perhaps Luke would be less inclined to press his paternal rights, perhaps he’d be less likely to come around, perhaps she’d be less likely to ache deep inside every time she saw him. If she gave in to Luke, if she allowed him to tell Andrew that he, not Nathan, was his father, then she would have to tell Ruth that her only grandson, her son’s only son, wasn’t.

What was to be gained? She would not put her own desire before her son and, yes, even her dear mother-in-law.

No. She would do without Luke. She would marry Edward and be done with it. It would solve a great many problems.

With the thoughts still fresh in her mind, she said, “Yes, it’s true. Edward and I are to be married, though no date has been agreed to,” she said, as much for Edward as the others, “and we would prefer to make a formal announcement.”

“The hell you are,” Luke said, his voice menacingly quiet.

The silence was absolute.

The men looked to Rebecca, a look of shock on every face.

Rebecca’s head reeled and, before she could speak, Edward spoke up. “Scanlin, how dare you say such a thing! How dare you use such language in front of a lady! You have overstepped yourself, and
we
—” he emphasized the last word “—will not tolerate it.” He surged to his feet. With his hand on her elbow, he pulled Rebecca up and grabbed her jacket.

They started away. Rebecca’s step faltered ever so slightly. She couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder, willing him to understand, willing him to forgive her, perhaps. She wasn’t certain. She only knew that this was the right thing for her to do.

If she hadn’t looked back, if she hadn’t hesitated, Luke might have believed her. He might have believed that she genuinely cared for the man. But she did look back, and that was enough to tell him that she wasn’t certain, that she was remembering all that they had shared—including a son.

And as he watched her walk away, a plan formed in his mind. It was direct. It was forceful. It was seduction—just as lush and carnal and erotic as he could make it.

Because when they were together, when she let her guard down, the fire that flashed between them was hotter than summer lightning, and more dangerous.

“Well, that certainly is a surprise,” Merl muttered, meaning more than the announcement. He sank back in his chair.

“Agreed,” Robert said, as did John.

Luke sat down again, his gaze still focused on the empty doorway they had disappeared through.

John cleared his throat awkwardly. “I take it, then, Marshal, that you know Mrs. Tinsdale...and don’t approve of her plans.”

“I know Mrs. Tinsdale very well, and no, I don’t approve of her plans.”

“Why is that, Marshal? Edward Pollard—”

“Is an egg-sucking—” He broke off, then started again. “He’s not the man for her, no matter what she thinks.”

John chuckled, and Merl laughed.

“Well, Marshal, I think it’s safe to say that we all agree. Mrs. Tinsdale is a fine lady, and Edward is...a royal jackass. He’s got political ambitions, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard. Did he think Rebecca would use the
Times
to help him?”

“Probably,” Robert supplied. “Now that she’s sold it... You wouldn’t happen to know why she sold it, would you, Marshal?”

“She sold it...” Because I didn’t have the ten thousand dollars she needed to save her son, he almost said, but didn’t. “Because it was the only way to raise the ransom money in cash in a couple of hours.”

“Strange. Why didn’t Edward arrange for the money from the bank?”

Luke studied him along the line of his shoulder. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself. It’s almost as if he wanted her to sell the paper,” he mused.

“Well, that’s obvious. You heard what he said. A lot of men feel a woman has no place running a business.”

“Rebecca isn’t just any woman.”

“Agreed,” John supplied. “She’s proven herself to be a capable editor, and her sense of fair play has won her a great deal of respect in this town. When Nathan died, we all thought she’d retire to a quieter life, being a widow and all. We were startled when she took over the
Times.
” He lounged back in his chair. “Truthfully, I gave her two months before she packed it in. Damned if she didn’t prove me wrong,” he added with admiration. “We’re going to miss her at the helm of the
Times.
She was doing a lot to bring attention to the corruption in this town.”

Robert leaned in. “Well, Edward said some syndicate had taken over. We should talk to them, see how they feel.”

Merl shook his head. “Sounds to me like they’ve already talked to Edward and are prepared to support him.”

Luke’s brow drew down in a frown. “And you gentlemen aren’t?”

“If we could find a better candidate, then, honestly...” Merl lowered his voice so that only those at the table could hear. “We would support someone else.”

“Surely there must be someone else in this city to run for mayor,” Luke said.

“You know how it is, Marshal. Everyone has an opinion of what’s wrong and even what to do about it, but no one wants to give up their precious time to actually do anything about it.”

“What about one of you?” Luke asked pointedly.

Merl chuckled. “We are as guilty as everyone else, I’m sorry to admit. We’ve all got businesses to run, and to be mayor would mean putting those businesses aside for years, if a person was serious about doing a good job. What we need is someone who doesn’t have business obligations, someone who’s honest, someone who has the best interests of San Francisco in mind.” He turned fully toward Luke. “We need someone like you, Marshal.”

“Whoa, now, wait a minute there.” He held up one hand. “I’ve got a job, thank you.”

“Marshal,” Merl returned with a negligent wave of his hand. “You could quit.”

Robert piped up. “Yes, why, half the town’s talking about the way you saved that boy.”

“True,” John added eagerly. “Why, Marshal, you’re a hero, and heroes make wonderful candidates.”

“No thanks,” Luke said firmly.

“But, Marshal, we need you. You’d have our full support and...guidance.”

“You mean you’d want to tell me what to do,” Luke returned bluntly. “When I do a job, gentlemen, I’m my own boss, and—”

Merl cut across his words. “Perfect. Then you’ll do it!”

“No. No. And
no,
” Luke said emphatically.

“You said you’d think about it.” Merl reminded him. “It would mean settling down. Steady work...for a few years, anyway.” He chuckled. “Good salary, house to live in...”

Luke dragged in a long breath and let it out slowly. If he wanted Rebecca, if he wanted his son, he’d need a home and a steady job that didn’t mean every time he went out he might not come back. Still, politics?

“Just think about it,” John was saying. “Don’t make a hasty decision you’ll regret later.”

Yeah, Luke thought, he knew about hasty decisions.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll think on it a couple of days, but I’m not—repeat, not—making any promises.”

“Fair enough. We want some serious help with this Barbary Coast situation.”

“You’re really serious about closing it down.”

“Damned straight.” Merl helped himself to another cup of coffee from the silver pot on the table. “The Coast is an abomination. We’re not so naive as to think that men don’t need someplace to let off a little steam. But the Coast is a mess. There’s murder going on down there. Prostitution. Men being shanghaied. White slavery. No one’s doing anything to stop it. If this city is going to grow and expect the nation to take us seriously, then we’ve got to clean our own house. We’ve tried to get the mayor and Brody to listen, but they turn a deaf ear to all our complaints. We’re not alone in this. I can list close to thirty civic and community organizations that feel as we do.”

“With so much support, why isn’t anything happening?”

“Exactly what we’re wondering. There’s only two things that make any difference—power and money. We decided that with as much money as changes hands down there, money was the key. Short of calling out the vigilantes again like in ‘56, we decided instead to hire a man to investigate and see what he could come up with. After about two months, he noticed that every Friday night a man appeared and an envelope was exchanged. He followed the man, who seemed to be making rounds. He would go from one place to another, and each time, an envelope was exchanged.”

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