Whirlwind Secrets Page 24

  Refusing to soften at the way her face went even more pale, he turned and reached for the door.

  “Where will you stay tonight?” Her voice trembled.

  He wasn’t telling her anything but he’d probably stay at Ef’s. “No need to concern yourself. You’ll have free run of the hotel.”

  He couldn’t take her wounded look anymore or the anguish in her face. Russ walked out of The Fontaine and closed the door.

  He couldn’t ride out for Dallas tonight, but first thing in the morning, he would leave.

  Chapter Sixteen

  R uss didn’t sleep much that night. Thoughts of Lydia tortured him. Memories of the agony in her eyes when she talked about her sister. The sincerity in her face when she had claimed she really had tried to tell him about the network.

  When he rode out of Whirlwind early the next morning, his temper hadn’t improved. He had to stop in Abilene first to give the banker what money he had, which consisted of the first month’s rent from Jericho and Josie, plus the little bit of money Russ had squirreled away.

  Lydia was never out of his thoughts. The woman infuriated him. If she was willing to throw away whatever this was they had started, then it was fine by him.

  He wasn’t going back to Whirlwind until he had a buyer, no matter how long it took. Once he paid the loan in full, Lydia Kent would be out of his life for good, her secret network still operating.

  He couldn’t dismiss the significance of that to her and the women she helped. It was of life-or-death importance.

  And had him asking if he’d been in Lydia’s shoes, would he have told her about the network?

  No, he admitted. At least not until he thought they were together for the long haul. And maybe not then, because it would be safer for her not to know. Safer for the women she helped, too. Russ saw her point.

  Had he overreacted because of his past? Yes. He wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. He grudgingly admitted that it was likely she would have told him the truth that night in his office if he hadn’t had to ride out with the posse.

  She’d claimed to care only about being with him after he had returned. Russ had felt the same way about her. Nothing and no one had held his attention until he’d gotten her alone. Until he’d taken her to bed. The love in her eyes before and during their time together kept torturing him. She couldn’t have faked that.

  Though her silence had hurt him, he also admired it. She was willing to risk everything to protect the women she aided. He loved that about her.

  He loved her.

  The realization had him reining his horse to a stop. Now that Russ knew the truth about everything, he had to think about those women, too. He couldn’t sell his interest in The Fontaine. Doing so might put the network at risk and Lydia, too.

  He had no idea how he was going to pay the bank, but he couldn’t do it with money from the sale of his interest in the hotel.

  He was two miles from Abilene when he turned his horse around and raced hell-for-leather back to Whirlwind. And Lydia. He hoped he hadn’t ruined everything.

  Lydia cried herself to sleep, but by morning, she was good and mad. If Russ Baldwin didn’t believe her, he was not the man for her.

  She had wanted to go after him last night when he stalked out of the hotel with his things, but she hadn’t. It would only have made the tension worse between them. Besides, she had apologized and pleaded all she was going to. He was hurt? Well, so was she.

  He had accused her of being intimate with him to somehow seduce him into looking the other way. She had given him her virginity, for goodness’ sake.

  He’d said some awful things, tried to make her think that their lovemaking meant nothing to him. He owed her an apology.

  Thankfully, she hadn’t confessed she loved him, although how the mule-headed man couldn’t see it was beyond her.

  Anger kept her going for a few hours, but soon regret began to creep in. Could she have handled things differently? She didn’t see how.

  As lunchtime approached, Lydia went to the kitchen to help Naomi set out the buffet. The food was set out but her friend wasn’t there or in the storage room. Lydia didn’t find her on a quick search of the first floor, either.

  It wasn’t like the woman to just disappear. Lydia began asking the guests and other staff if they had seen her. Finally, one guest who was visiting from California said he had seen the maid going up to the third floor with a man.

  Ef? Who else could it be? Still, it was odd that Naomi and Ef would go upstairs together at all, let alone right before one of the busiest times of the day. Was something wrong?

  After thanking the man, Lydia hurried to the rooms she shared with the other woman. When she found the door unlocked, she was relieved. That meant her friend was here.

  “Naomi?” Lydia called out as she stepped inside and closed the door.

  The maid appeared in the doorway that separated Lydia’s office from the bedrooms. Her face was streaked with tears and fear pinched her refined features.

  “What’s happened?” Lydia rushed to her friend. “Is it Ef?”

  “No, don’t!” the black woman cried out.

  Lydia realized too late that Naomi’s hands were bound behind her back. Danger screamed at her at the same time she heard a masculine voice behind her. A hated voice.

  “Hello, sister.”

  Philip! Lydia whirled to face him. Before she knew his intent, his fist shot out and slammed her jaw hard enough to make her vision blur. She stumbled back and fell, swallowed up by darkness.

  As she came to, the room swam into focus. A dull ache throbbed in her jaw as her gaze moved slowly over the familiar blue chairs in the corner next to her, the large walnut wardrobe.

  Rope bit into her wrists and ankles, the pain helping her to focus. She was on the floor propped against the wall between the small marble table and one of the chairs. Her hands were bound behind her, just as Naomi’s were. Both women sat with bent knees, their feet tied at the ankles and a handkerchief stuffed in their mouths. Lydia’s was heavy with starch, the smell and taste nearly choking her.

  Bile rose in her throat. This might seem like a nightmare, but it was real. Philip DeBoard, the man who had murdered her sister, the man Naomi had gravely wounded in self-defense, was here and he had them both.

  The fear and uncertainty on Naomi’s face mirrored what Lydia felt.

  Russ! Her stunned mind screamed his name over and over. But he was gone. Unless Ef came looking for Naomi, she and Lydia had scant hope of being rescued. They would have to help themselves, and Lydia searched frantically for a way to do that.

  Philip dug through the small drawers in Lydia’s wardrobe, throwing out handkerchiefs and ribbons. He stopped and held up Isabel’s diamond earrings, clutched them in his hand and kept rifling.

  Lydia screamed behind her gag, but the bastard didn’t even look at her.

  He was even more slight than before, gaunt now after suffering the life-threatening wound Naomi had given him.

  A cruel smile twisting his lips, he walked over in front of the black woman and kicked her legs. “You uppity wench. You probably thought you killed me, but you didn’t.”

  Naomi shrank away.

  Lydia struggled to get free. Philip stroked his thin dark mustache and moved over in front of her. His cold dark eyes fixed on her. “Don’t worry, sister. I didn’t come all this way to kill that wench and forget about you.”

  Fear paralyzed her for an instant. What was he planning to do?

  He reached one long elegant hand toward Lydia’s chest. She jerked back so hard, she hit her head against the bed frame. What was he doing? Trying to grab her breast?

  He reached again, this time ripping off the watch pinned to her bodice. The brown fabric of her dress tore, sending a ripple of panic through her.

  Tears of fury filled her eyes. That was all she had left of Isabel!

  She screamed at him, the sound muffled behind the gag. He arched a brow, holding the watch in the same hand
as the diamond earrings. The hate in his eyes said he was capable of anything.

  He knelt in front of Naomi and the woman flinched. Lydia’s breath hitched painfully in her lungs as frustration overwhelmed her. There was nothing she could do to help her friend.

  Philip had tried to rape Naomi before. Surely he wouldn’t try it with Lydia here. Why not? What was to stop him?

  Her mind raced to form a plan—

  A knock sounded on the door, causing all three of them to jump. Lydia’s gaze shot to the door.

  When she didn’t answer, the knock came again, louder this time, more impatient. She could feel DeBoard’s gaze on her.

  A heavy fist pounded on the door now, the wood quivering beneath the force. “Lydia, I know you’re in there. Let me in.”

  Russ! Lydia’s vision blurred with tears.

  “Sugar, I’m not leavin’ until we talk so you might as well open the door.”

  “I’m going to take your gag off so you can get rid of him,” Philip hissed. “If you even think about screaming or making any noise that might alert him there’s trouble, I’m pulling this trigger and Naomi goes first.”

  At the loud snap of the hammer going down, Lydia jerked her head around. Philip drilled the barrel of his gun into her friend’s temple. “Understand?”

  Lydia nodded, her mind racing to think of a way to let Russ know something was wrong.

  “Lydia, dammit, open this door!” he boomed.

  Philip brandished his weapon in her face as he jerked the gag from her mouth.

  She had no idea if Russ would figure out the message she was trying to send, but she had to try. Her voice shook as she yelled, “You know what I said that day you found me on the balcony.”

  She choked back a sob. “Stop hurting us, both of us!”

  The pounding stopped. Through the door, she heard, “Hell.” Then silence.

  It hadn’t worked! He was gone.

  She struggled not to fall apart. She glared at Philip. “You murdering, cowardly piece of filth.”

  He lunged at her, shoving the wadded handkerchief toward her mouth. She jerked her head away and clamped her teeth together, fighting him. He raised his hand to hit her.

  Without warning, the door splintered off its hinges and fell into the room.

  Everything happened in an instant.

  Using the momentum from the crash, Russ barreled inside, roaring as he plowed his head into Philip’s stomach.

  The other man wailed in pain; his gun went off.

  “Help!” Lydia screamed. “Someone help us!”

  She didn’t know if anyone could hear her, but she kept yelling. Naomi cringed against the wall as the men hit the floor.

  Philip lost his grip on the gun, and it skittered a few feet away, close to Lydia’s wardrobe. Even if she had been able to reach it, she couldn’t grab it because her hands were bound behind her back.

  The men struggled, grunting and landing blows, but Philip was no match for Russ’s brute strength. Both men reached for the weapon. Philip grabbed it and rolled to his back, aiming at Russ.

  Russ dived for him, clamping both hands on Philip’s wrist and twisting. After a few terrifyingly uncertain seconds, a gunshot cracked the air.

  DeBoard went limp. Sightless eyes stared at the ceiling. Blood seeped through his white shirt in an ever-widening stain.

  Lydia felt her composure slip. Russ. He’d come back. He’d saved them.

  He slid across the floor to her, his worried gaze running the length of her body.

  “I’m okay.” She wanted him to hold her, but she had to make sure her friend was all right. “Help Naomi, please.”

  Russ reached over and plucked the gag from the other woman’s mouth.

  “Thank you, Mr. Baldwin.” Naomi’s soft voice shook and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs and a group of men crowded into the damaged doorway, guns drawn. Ef was in the front and after making sure the threat was gone, he holstered his weapon and rushed inside.

  Going to his knees in front of Naomi, he asked if she was all right. The blacksmith worked to loosen the ropes binding her wrists.

  Russ reached for Lydia and as he bent his head to see the rope, she drew in the reassuring scent of his spicy shaving soap. She didn’t know why he’d come back to the hotel, but she was glad he had.

  Tears streamed down her face. She reached down to help him untie the rope around her ankles and their hands tangled.

  “Let me,” Russ said hoarsely, brushing aside her help.

  As soon as she felt the rope give, she scrambled to her knees and fell into him. He held her tight as she locked her arms around his neck. He was still a little unsteady from what he’d witnessed.

  “You came back,” she said shakily into his neck.

  She seemed glad about that and not only because he had taken care of Philip. Russ wasn’t wasting another minute. He moved his mouth to her ear. “I love you.”

  She pulled away, her lashes wet and spiky as she stared at him in awed disbelief. “I love you, too.”

  A cold blackness swept through him when he saw the tear above her left breast. “Did DeBoard hurt you?”

  “No,” she reassured. “He took Isabel’s watch and earrings.”

  Russ wanted to get her out of here so he could look at her, touch her. He stood, helping her to her feet and thumbing away the tears on her cheeks.

  Behind them, Ef spoke quietly to a shaken Naomi. She stepped away and reached for Lydia.

  The women hugged. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” Lydia said hoarsely.

  “I’m glad you are, too.” The black woman looked at Russ. “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Ef’s dark features were solemn as he shared a look with Russ. “I’m taking Naomi to my house for a bit. Until we figure out what to do about this room.”

  Russ nodded, still shaken at the scene he’d interrupted. When Matt and Davis Lee dashed into the room, Russ gestured for Matt to stay with Lydia while he stepped over to talk to Davis Lee.

  “That the brother-in-law?” the sheriff asked.

  “Yeah.” Russ stared down at DeBoard, furious all over again.

  Davis Lee stooped to pick up the watch and earrings then passed them to Russ. “Would you give these to Lydia?”

  Russ nodded, his hand closing around the jewelry. He gestured to DeBoard’s bloody body, glancing at Davis Lee. “You got this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m taking Lydia to my office. When you’re ready to ask questions, that’s where she’ll be.”

  The sheriff nodded.

  Russ walked back over to his brother and Lydia in time to hear Matt say, “I’ve never seen my brother scared until today.”

  Russ didn’t think he had ever been scared like that.

  “I’m glad you’re all right.” Matt hugged her then squeezed Russ’s shoulder.

  Russ looked down at her. “Davis Lee, Jericho and Matt are going to take care of everything up here. I want to get you to my office and make sure you’re okay.”

  “All right,” she said tremulously. “Thank you. For saving my life. For coming back.”

  He slid an arm around her waist, pressing her sister’s jewelry into her hand. “Davis Lee wanted me to give you these.”

  Lydia held them tight. Looking at the bloodstain on her cream-and-blue rug, the splinters of wood strewn about the floor, she shuddered. “We’ll have to figure out where Naomi and I are going to stay until the door is fixed.”

  “You’re staying with me,” Russ said gruffly. There was so much he had to say. “Come on.”

  She folded her hand into his. They only made it to the landing before Russ stopped and swept her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, still looking dazed from all that had happened. “I’m all right. I don’t need you to carry me.”

  “I know, but I need to.”

  She searched his face, finally seemi
ng to understand he needed to hold her, reassure himself she was all right. The sweet smile she gave him tightened his chest.

  What if he hadn’t realized he loved her and come back? What would have happened? He was glad they’d never have to find out.

  He held her close, filling himself up with her soft scent. She rested her head on his chest and let him carry her without protest, even when they passed the small crowd that had gathered in the lobby because of the commotion. In answer to their questions, he told them the sheriff would be down in a while and fill them in on what had happened.

  Russ reached his office. He walked in, kicked the door shut and went to his big desk chair, sinking down into the soft leather with Lydia in his lap. He wasn’t ready to let her up.

  He might never be.

  He kissed her, long and slow. When he lifted his head, he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “When I busted into your room and saw you and Naomi with DeBoard, I nearly died.”

  She stroked his face. “I’m all right.”

  He caught her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted when I found out about the network.”

  “I’m sorry, too. For not telling you sooner.”

  Russ shook his head. “You handled it as you should have. It just took me a bit to admit it.”

  “What made you come back?”

  “You.” He couldn’t take his eyes from her beautiful face. “I didn’t even make it to Abilene before I knew I had made a mistake. I’m sorry about the things I said.”

  “It’s forgiven. If someone had done to me what Amy did to you, I would’ve reacted the same way. I want you to know you can trust me, Russ. There are no more secrets.”

  “I do trust you. I know now how difficult it must have been for you not to tell me what was going on. I ran into that same problem myself.”

  He explained how he had wanted to tell Matt everything, then realized he couldn’t.

  “So you never made it to Dallas?” she asked. “You never had a chance to look for a buyer?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. I decided I can’t sell. It poses too much of a risk to the operation. To you. I’ll find another way to get the money. You and what you’re doing here are more important to me than anything. I love you, Lydia. I never thought I’d say that to another woman.”