Wolf Shadow (36 page)

The hours passed slowly. He dozed and woke and dozed again. When
next he woke, the light under the door had disappeared.

How long had he been here? His head throbbed, his mouth was
dry. He wondered what Teressa was thinking. Was she worried, or angry?

He sat up a little straighter when he heard footsteps
outside the door.

There was a faint creak as the door opened. A man stood
silhouetted in the opening.

Chance grunted softly. “Bryant.”

Edward stepped inside. Drawing a match from his pocket, he
lit the lantern hanging on a hook to the left of the entrance, then closed the
door behind him. “Mr. McCloud. What am I to do with you?”

“You could find a doctor to stitch up the cut in my head,
unless you plan to pitch me into the bay.”

“Nothing so barbaric as that.”

“Just gonna shanghai me?”

“Would you rather be dead?”

There was no answer to that and Chance made no reply. Instead,
he asked, “Will you let me write a letter to my foreman?”

Bryant considered that a moment, then nodded. “I’ll have one
of the men bring you paper and pen. The ship sets sail at dawn. If you ever
make your way back to this part of the world, stay away from my daughter else a
worse fate befall you.”

And so saying, Bryant snuffed out the lantern and left the
room, leaving Chance staring into the darkness.

Chance dozed again, lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking
motion of the ship.

He woke with a start when he heard the door open. A sailor
who didn’t look old enough to shave entered the room carrying a lantern, a
sheet of paper, a bottle of ink, a pen, and a hogleg that was almost bigger
than he was.

He placed the paper, bottle, and pen on the floor beside
Chance. Pulling a knife from inside his boot, he cut Chance’s hands free, then
leveled the pistol at him. “Bryant says you want to write a letter,” he said,
taking a step backward. “See that’s all you do.”

Shaking the rope off his wrists, Chance uncapped the bottle
of ink and dipped the pen in the bottle. Writing slowly, he began to write
instructions to his foreman, his mind racing. He had to get out of here before
the ship set sail.

He glanced up at the sailor. The kid had lowered the gun,
but he was watching him intently.

Chance took a deep breath. He was only going to get one
chance to make a break for it.

Shifting his position, he lifted the pen as if he was going
to dip it again. Instead, he grabbed the bottle and flung the contents into the
kid’s face. Lunging forward, he grabbed the kid around the knees and jerked
backward. The kid landed hard on his butt, the back of his head hitting the
floor with a satisfying thud. The gun fell from his hand and went skittering
across the floor.

The kid sat up, dazed, black ink dripping down his cheeks.

Chance drew back his fist and launched a haymaker. With a
grunt, the kid’s eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

Pulling the knife from the sailor’s boot, Chance cut the
rope around his ankles, picked up the kid’s gun, and lurched to his feet.

Lifting his free hand, he explored the lump on the back of
his head. His hair was stiff with dried blood.

“That’s one I owe you, Bryant,” he muttered.

Blowing out a deep breath, he waited until his feet were
steady under him, then peered out of the open doorway. The passageway ahead of
him was empty. Moving slowly and cautiously, he headed toward the ladder that
led to the upper deck.

The ship was quiet under a full moon. Holstering the gun, he
climbed up on deck. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way toward the rear of
the ship.

“You there! Stop!”

Chance didn’t wait to see if the sailor was talking to him
or someone else. He climbed up on the rail and dove over the side.

* * * * *

Bryant slammed his fist on the desk. “What do you mean, he
got away?”

The young sailor shifted nervously from one foot to the
other, then cleared his throat. “I…uh…”

Bryant jabbed a finger in the boy’s direction. “What’s that
all over your face?”

A tide of red washed into the kid’s cheeks. “Ink, sir. He
threw it in my face, then hit me when I was down.”

Bryant jerked his head toward the door. “Go on, get out of
here. And tell Twist I want my money back.”

The kid nodded sharply and hurried out of the room.

Bryant muttered an oath. Damn. Why hadn’t McCloud stayed
back on his ranch where he belonged?

* * * * *

Teressa was coming down the stairs from her bedroom when she
saw a young man leave her father’s office. Whether it was impulse or
inspiration, she didn’t know but she followed the sailor out of the house and
down the driveway.

“Wait, please.”

He stopped, started to turn, and then kept going.

“Please, wait!”

He stopped this time, his expression guarded as he turned to
face her.

“What did you see my father about?”

“Business.”

“What kind of business? Did it have anything to do with a
man? A man named McCloud?”

The young man’s eyes widened, and then he shook his head.

“It did, didn’t it?” Teressa asked insistently. “Do you know
where he is? Is he…oh, Lord, he isn’t…?” She couldn’t say the word.

The young man rubbed his jaw. “He’s alive and well, miss,
that’s all I can tell you.”

Relief washed through her. “Thank you.”

Turning, she hurried back into the house and up to her room.
Whatever her father had planned had obviously failed. She had to find Wolf, but
how? He wouldn’t come here again, she was sure of that.

She paced the floor, then went to the window and stared out
into the darkness. If he wanted to get in touch with her, what would he do?

Of course! He would leave a message for her with Cynthia.

Feeling better, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. The
sooner she got to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come.

The sun had barely cleared the horizon when she woke the
following morning. Dressing quickly, she tiptoed down the hall and out of the
house. Hurrying to the barn, she roused Mason from bed, waited impatiently
while he harnessed a horse to the carriage.

“Are you sure about this, Miss?” Mason asked as he handed
her into the carriage. “Your father didn’t say anything about your going
anywhere this morning.”

“He must have forgotten,” Teressa said imperiously. “Please
hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

Mason looked at her speculatively for a moment, then, with a
shrug, he closed the door and took his seat on the box.

Teressa spread a lap robe over her legs as the carriage
lurched forward. Her parents would be furious when they learned she had gone
out without telling them, but she would deal with them later. Right now, she
had to know that Wolf was all right.

The Witherspoons’ butler was not happy to see her so early
in the morning. “Miss Cynthia is still abed.” His expression said that was
where she should be, too.

“I must see her right away, Manly. Please tell her I’m
here.”

“Very well, Miss. Come in.” Manly stepped back so she could
enter the foyer.

Teressa stepped over the threshold and followed Manly into
the parlor. It was a large room with high ceilings and green and gold striped
wallpaper. Windows overlooked the street and the side yard. Lamps with fancy
fringed shades set on the tables. A thick carpet covered the floor.

He gestured at a curved sofa. “Sit down, please.”

She did as he asked, only to gain her feet again as soon as
he left the room. She was too agitated to sit still.

She turned quickly at the sound of footsteps.

“Tess, what on earth are you doing here at this time of the
morning?” Cynthia asked. She smothered a yawn behind her hand. “Do you know
what time it is?”

“Has Wolf been here? Did he leave any message for me?”

“Is that what this is all about?” she asked, yawning. “He
came by late last night. He gave me a letter and asked if I’d give it to you
today.” She yawned again. “It must be important, since you couldn’t wait until
a decent hour to pick it up. My father was very upset that I had a male caller
at such an hour.”

“I’m sorry to cause you trouble, Cyn. Where’s the letter?”

Cynthia waved at one of the chairs. “Sit down.” She
smothered another yawn. “I’ll get it.”

Teressa was too excited to sit. She walked to the window,
looked out, walked back to the center of the room.

Cynthia returned a few minutes later. “Here.” She extended a
white envelope. “What does he say?”

Teressa’s fingers were shaking as she opened the envelope
and withdrew a single sheet of paper. She read the words quickly.

Teressa, I’m sorry about yesterday. I was detained. If
you can get away, meet me at the hotel where we met before. I’ll wait until
midnight. Chance.

“Well,” Cynthia said, “what does it say?”

“He wants me to meet him at the hotel today.”

“What time?”

“Any time. He said he’ll wait until midnight.”

Cynthia sighed, her hands clutched to her breasts. “That’s
so romantic. Just like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Who are they? Romeo and Juliet?”

“It’s a play by Shakespeare about a boy and girl who fall in
love. But their families are enemies and refuse to let them be married. Anyway,
it has a very unhappy ending.”

“What happened to them?”

“They died.”

“Oh!”

“Let’s hope your romance has a happier ending,” Cynthia
said, giving her a hug. “Just be careful.”

“I will.”

Returning home, Teressa was relieved to find that her
parents were still abed. Tiptoeing up the back stairs, she entered her bedroom
and closed the door, then took Wolf’s note from her pocket and read it again.
Detained? Though he hadn’t said so, she was certain her father had something to
do with that. But what?

After changing into her nightgown, she slipped back into bed
and drew the covers up to her chin. She hadn’t intended to go back to sleep but
she woke with a start when Marie came in to light the fire and lay out her
clothes for the day.

A short time later, clad in a clean dress, her hair in a
long braid down her back, Teressa went downstairs to breakfast.

“Good morning,” her mother said, smiling.

“Good morning, Mama. Papa.”

Her father lowered his morning paper and smiled at her. “You
slept late,” he remarked.

Teressa shrugged as she slid into her chair. Lifting the
cover on the tray in the center of the table, she helped herself to ham and
eggs and biscuits.

“Have you any plans for this afternoon?” her father asked.

“I thought I might go shopping with Cynthia later. Why?”

“No reason. You’d better finish your breakfast. Russell will
be here for your lesson shortly.”

Teressa nodded. Mr. Russell was her tutor. He said she was
making remarkable progress. Even Teressa was surprised at how quickly things
came back to her.

They were almost finished with the meal when the butler
entered the room.

“What is it, Hart?” her father asked.

“There is a gentleman to see you, sir.”

“Take him into the library. I’ll join him there in a few
minutes.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Business at home so early in the morning, Eduardo?” Rosalia
inquired.

“Yes, my dear.” He finished his coffee, wiped his mouth,
laid the napkin aside. “Forgive me.”

Rosalia smiled up at him. “Of course.”

Teressa waited until her father had left the room, then
rose. “I need to get my books,” she said. “I don’t want to keep Mr. Russell
waiting.”

Rosalia nodded.

Teressa left the room. Her mother wouldn’t leave the dining
room until she’d had another cup of tea.

As stealthily as she could, Teressa made her way toward the
library, located at the far end of the house. The door was closed, but not
latched. Leaning closer, she heard a voice she didn’t recognize.

“Followed him to the hotel where they met before.”

“He’s there now?”

“Yes, sir. Shall we take him?”

Her father didn’t answer right away, and then he said, “Not
yet. But if my daughter arrives, you are to intercept her and bring her home.”

“And McCloud?”

“Have someone watch him. And this time don’t let him get
away!”

“Yes, sir.”

At the sound of footsteps, she turned and hurried up the
stairs to her room. Stunned by what she had heard, she closed the door, then
leaned back against it, more certain than ever that her father had somehow kept
Chance from coming to the house on Sunday. What kind of game was her father
playing? And if he knew she was seeing Chance, why didn’t he say so?

Grabbing her books, she went downstairs. Mr. Russell arrived
moments later. Try as she might, she couldn’t concentrate on her lessons,
couldn’t think of anything but Wolf. Was his life in danger because of her?
More than once, Mr. Russell asked her where her mind was. At last, her lessons
were over and Mr. Russell took his leave, saying that he hoped she would be
more attentive next time.

She was glad her father hadn’t come home for lunch. She
didn’t think she could sit through a meal with him and not demand to know what
he had done to Wolf. Her mother chatted about a birthday party one of her
friends was giving for a mutual acquaintance, which relieved Teressa of having
to make small talk.

When the meal was over, she called for the carriage. Twenty
minutes later, she was sitting at a small round table with Cynthia in Cynthia’s
sitting room.

“I need your help, Cyn.”

“Does it have anything to do with that gorgeous man?”

“Yes.”

“What can I do?”

“I want you to go to the hotel and meet him. My father is
having Wolf followed, so I can’t go.”

Cynthia’s face lit up. “Oh, this is so exciting! I feel like
a spy. What should I tell him?”