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“Well, yeah. Except for this.” He pulled a gold locket from the sack. “Looks like a family piece. I guess that’s what you’re looking for, huh? You don’t want those family things to get away.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Tripp tense as she took the locket from the sheriff. She ignored him. “It’s been passed down for generations. I want Little Harvey to have it when he gets grown.”
The sheriff dusted his hands together. “Well, that’s about it.”
Kaitlin felt Tripp’s hot gaze on her as she dropped the envelope and locket into the sack.
“Thank you for everything, Sheriff Newell. Goodbye.” Kaitlin headed for the door. Such a performance. Her mother would have been proud.
“Not so fast.” Sheriff Newell blocked her path. “There’s one more matter we need to get cleared up before you leave here.”
“A memorial service?”
“Yes, a memorial service.” Kaitlin pulled her wrapper closed over her chemise and pantalettes, and yanked the sash tight. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the eyelet curtains on the window, brightening the hotel room. “For my dear departed. The Sheriff thinks it’s what I want. It’s set for tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow!” Isabelle waved her arms wildly. “But we’re supposed to leave tonight! Tonight, Kaitlin, tonight! Miss Purtle will fire me if I’m not at work in her shop first thing tomorrow morning. She’ll fire me!”
“Don’t worry.” Kaitlin pulled the pins from her hair and shook her head, sending her thick tresses curling down her back. “You’ll leave this afternoon on the stage, just as we planned, and tomorrow after the service, I’ll leave too.”
“No, Kaitlin.” Isabelle shook her head frantically. “It’s dangerous. Somebody will figure out what you’re up to.”
Kaitlin dropped her hairpins on the washstand. “What else can I do? Tell the sheriff I don’t want a service for dear ol’ Harvey?”
“Let’s just sneak away. He probably wouldn’t recognize you, even if he saw you get on the stage.”
“And what if he does?” Kaitlin asked. She wouldn’t take the chance that the sheriff might give Stutz’s belongings to that Mr. Callihan, or turn it over to the church.
“Kaitlin, please, come with me—”
“No. It’s all settled. When you leave the hotel, pay for another night and asked them to send up a tray for me. I’ll stay here in the room until tomorrow and catch the midday stage after the service. What can go wrong?”
“A thousand things!”
Kaitlin picked up Isabelle’s carpetbag from the bed. “You’d better go before you miss the stage.”
Isabelle hesitated, then took the carpetbag. “All right. But you be careful.”
She opened the door. “I will. See you tomorrow.”
Kaitlin waved goodbye, then closed the door and turned the big metal key in the lock. She fell back against the wall, heaving a heavy sigh.
Darn that Harvey Stutz. Judging from what was in the sack the sheriff had given her, Harvey had spent nearly all of her money. Gambled it away, probably. But that deed to the property over in Porter might be promising, and the locket. If she sold them both, maybe she could get back the rest of her money.
Kaitlin’s spirits soared. Yes, she could get back her money—and her dream—after all.
A knock sounded at the door. Thank goodness the kitchen sent up her meal quickly. She was starved.
“Just leave the tray, please,” she called.
The knock sounded again, harder this time.
“You can leave the tray outside. Thank you.”
The pounding continued.
Kaitlin rolled her eyes. Good grief, was the kitchen help deaf?
Standing behind the door, she turned the key and opened it a crack. “I said, just leave—”
Tripp Callihan glared down at her.
“You’re a fraud and a liar, lady. And I can prove it.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_b9b006f7-0bbd-5de5-bb68-dabd41454aad)
Kaitlin threw her weight against the door, but Tripp was too fast and too strong. He pushed it open, sending her flying backward across the bed.
“Who do you think you are!” Kaitlin sprang to her knees in the center of the soft, feather mattress, anger flushing her cheeks. “Get out of here!”
He slammed the door shut and strode in the center of the room, his legs braced wide apart. “I’m not going anywhere, lady, until I get what I came here for.”
She pushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “I’ve got nothing that belongs to you!”
“You’re a liar. You’re a—”
He stopped, his gaze homing in on her belly.
Kaitlin followed his line of vision to her wrapper gaping open, the sash hanging loose at her sides exposing her flat stomach. She gasped and crossed her hands over her middle.
His eyes narrow. “What happened to your baby?”
Kaitlin scrambled off the opposite side of the bed, her anger gone, ribbons of fear in its place. She gulped. “I—I gave birth.”
He advanced on her. “Yeah? Where’s the kid?”
Kaitlin backed away waving her hands around the room. “It’s here…somewhere.”
Tripp rounded the end of the bed. “Hell, you’re not even a good liar.”
Kaitlin pointed a finger at him. “Keep away from me.” She tried to sound harsh, threatening, but her voice was nothing more than a squeak.
She bumped into the corner and looked around frantically. There was no place to run. He towered over her. He came closer, hemming her in.
“I’ll scream. I’ll scream my head off and have everybody in the hotel up here.”
“Go ahead! Scream until you’re hoarse! Get the sheriff up here, too. I’m sure he’d love to hear you explain this.” Tripp grabbed a handful of her wrapper at her belly, and yanked it. Kaitlin fell against him.
Her arms wrapped around him, her nose burrowed into his neck. Her breasts, unbound, snuggled against his chest; her thighs brushed his.
Stunned, they both froze.
Fingers of fire raced through Kaitlin. He was hard and strong, muscles everywhere. He smelled like leather and soap.
Slowly, she lifted her face. His breath was hot on her cheeks, his eyes piercing. Kaitlin’s knees weakened. Afraid she’d fall, she shifted. The thick ridge beneath his fly settled intimately against her.
Her senses reeled. Her whole body tingled. Heat rolled off him in waves. She saw the quick intake of his breath, felt his muscles tense. She knew she should pull away, but couldn’t.
He pushed her away, gently, and stalked across the room. Kaitlin gulped and closed the sash of her wrapper with trembling hands.
He stood with his back to her for a moment, then turned and stepped behind the rocking chair in the corner. He pulled his hat lower on his forehead.
“Just give me what I came here for, lady, and I’ll go.
His voice was softer now, unsteady. Kaitlin didn’t trust herself to say anything, so she smoothed down her wrapper, reaching for a modicum of dignity.
Finally, she lifted her chin. “Everything Harvey Stutz had belongs to me, Mr. Callihan.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you’re in on his con games?”
“No!” Her back stiffened. “I most certainly am not. My name is Kaitlin Jeffers. I have an honest job and I come from a respectable family. I had nothing to do with Harvey Stutz, except to get everything I owned stolen by him. But I have it back now—part of it, at least.”
“That’s a lie. What you got from the sheriff belongs to me.”
“Oh?” She tossed her head.
“Where’s that sack the sheriff gave you?”
Tension coiled in Kaitlin’s stomach, and she knew she’d be wise to be scared of this man. But he could have hurt her already, and hadn’t. She’d felt the power he possessed. His touch was gentle; he was a man used to tempering his anger.
She pulled in a breath. “Those things are none of your business.”
He pointed to the bureau. “I’ll tear this place apart to find it, if I have to.”
She knew he was capable of doing just that. Still, she wouldn’t make it easy for him. Kaitlin planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not giving you anything.”
“It belongs to me.”
“It’s mine. And you can’t prove any different.”
He advanced on her. “Yeah? It belongs to you? Then what’s the inscription on the back of the locket?”
“Inscription?” Kaitlin shifted. There was an inscription on the locket? She hadn’t even taken time to look it over. “Well…”
“It says, ‘To my darling with all my love.’“ Tripp held out his palm. “Hand it over, Miss Jeffers.”
Obviously, the locket belonged to him. Darn. It would have fetched a good price. As much as she hated to see it go, it was only right.
For a moment she felt a kinship with Mr. Tripp Callihan, both taken advantage of by Harvey Stutz. Briefly she wondered what else the con man had taken from him, but doubted Tripp was the kind of man to divulge that.
Kaitlin opened the top drawer of the bureau and kept her back to him as she dug beneath her clothing. She glanced over her shoulder. “I had nothing to do with stealing this.”
He snorted his disbelief.
Kaitlin pulled the gold locket from the sack and turned it over in her hand. On the back was the inscription, just as Tripp had said.
She shrugged. “I guess it does belong to you.”
He snatched it from her hand and dropped it in his shirt pocket. “Now I want what else is mine.”
“But—”
Tripp jerked the sack from her hand.
“Hey! Give me that!”
She lunged for it, but he held it out of her reach, easily fending off her grabbing hands. He was so tall, so strong, she had no chance.
“Listen, Mr. Callihan. Let me explain.” Kaitlin drew in a deep breath. “Harvey Stutz stole my life savings—every cent of it. I’m just trying to get it back.”
“By pretending to be his widow—his pregnant widow?” He shook his head in disgust.
“Well, it worked. Or would have, if it hadn’t been for you.”
“Stutz stole from me, too.”
“Your life savings?”
He looked away. “Something like that.”
“You can have your locket. But the sheriff already said everything else belongs to me.”
“You want to get the sheriff involved again?” Tripp’s eyebrows drew together. “Fine. Let’s find out what he has to say when he sees you like this. Maybe you can explain exactly where your baby went.”
“You’re not exactly his favorite person either, Mr. Callihan.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“And what if Sheriff Newell decides not to give it to either of us? He threatened to give it to the church once already, remember? Both of us could end up with nothing.”
“Dammit…” Tripp walked across the room and stared through the window at the street below. “I didn’t wait all this time, and come all this way, to end up with nothing.”
Kaitlin didn’t say anything, just studied his profile outlined in the window. He looked grim.
Finally, he turned to her. “All right. We split everything fifty-fifty. Deal?”
“Fifty-fifty? No, I was thinking more like—”
“You’d rather I let the sheriff settle this?”
