Betina Krahn Read online

  They had a few creeks and the headwaters of the Musselshell River to cross, but the route slipped between the Big Snowy and Little Belt Mountains. She felt a twinge of longing in her chest as she conjured images of snowcapped mountains in the distance … blue, blue sky … great rolling plains.

  Coming out of her reverie, she realized Bear was stirring in the bed and began to replace and reroll the documents. But as he settled into a more comfortable position and continued to sleep, she felt relieved not to have to explain her snooping and stole a look at some of the documents themselves.

  The sums of money on the balance sheets were considerable; every expense in railroad building had been anticipated and included. She smiled. She’d seen thousands of such lists in proposals people brought her for funding. It was interesting seeing them from another perspective. Then a letter caught her eye. It was from the territorial governor of Montana, supporting Bear’s proposal and recommending him and his partner Halt Finnegan without reservation to possible lenders and investors.

  Partner? She scowled. He had never mentioned a … She read the name again and thought it sounded oddly familiar. But where would she have heard his partner’s name, when she didn’t even know he had one?

  There were other letters of support—also encouraging investors to lend Barton McQuaid the required capital—along with confirmed orders for steel rail and equipment. The invoices were all marked: “to be paid upon delivery.”

  Something slowly knotted in her middle and she dropped the papers onto the stack and turned aside. She shouldn’t be looking at this; it was none of her business. But her heart began to thud and she couldn’t help stealing another look at those letters and invoices.

  Strangely, there was nothing in the documents and papers to indicate who besides him was funding his railroad. No list of stockholders, no mention of loans or other financial agreements. This was merely a proposal. And a well-worn one from the looks of it.

  Hurriedly, she tucked the letters and invoices back inside the maps and rolled them up, eager to get them out of her hands. When she had carried the roll to the window seat and tucked it back among the pillows, where she had found it, a faint sound from the bed caused her to start. It was only Bear shifting in his sleep again.

  Uneasy now for no reason she was willing to admit, she climbed onto the window seat and pulled a pillow into her arms, hugging it for comfort. There was no sense dwelling on it. Or worrying. They were clearly old papers and maps. Everything must be finalized; Bear was heading for Montana to begin construction. He’d been working all week to make arrangements for materials and equipment. Nothing had changed. Everything was perfectly fine.

  If only she could get her racing heart to agree.

  The household was in a flurry late the next morning as Diamond and Hannah prepared hampers of food and linens and a dozen other little necessities of civilized life for Bear’s new home away from home. A stack of willow baskets, hampers, and trunks grew quickly in the front hall. While Diamond was making an inventory of it all, a clerk from Philip Vassar’s bank arrived asking for Bear. Papers for signing, he announced apologetically. Mr. Vassar had to have them before Mr. McQuaid left for Montana.

  “Papers?” Diamond reached for the leather folio herself, but the clerk gave her a strained smile and tucked them under his arm.

  “If I might see Mister McQuaid, ma’am.”

  Annoyed, Diamond went personally to fetch Bear from the stables, where he was overseeing Robbie’s chores and having a few “manly” words with him.

  “Mister McQuaid,” she said breathlessly. “Philip Vassar has sent someone with some papers for you.”

  He froze for a moment, then handed Robbie the bridle he was holding. His jaw set and his boot heels pounded into the gravel path on the way to the house. He made no attempt to explain. But when he spotted Vassar’s clerk, he made a nearly convincing effort to relax and seem offhand.

  “I had planned to stop by the bank on my way out of the city this evening,” he said. “Just leave the papers with me and I’ll look them over.”

  “Mr. Vassar thought you were leaving earlier and didn’t want to miss you.” When Bear reached for the folder, the clerk seemed uncomfortable. “Sorry, Mr. McQuaid, but these require signatures that have to be witnessed.”

  “All right. Fine.” Bear nodded at him and then gave Diamond a perfunctory smile. “I’ll have it done in two shakes.” He glanced around, spotted the empty drawing room, and waved the courier toward it. When Diamond started in after them, he stopped her at the door with an emphatic smile. “I can take care of this, Diamond. Why don’t you go ahead with”—he looked past her to the mound of things assembled in the entrance hall—“packing. Good Lord—that’s enough supplies for me to open a dry-goods store.” He waggled his brows, turned her around, and gave her bustle a pat.

  Diamond had never been dismissed in her life. Wheedled, lectured, harangued, leered at, begged, and propositioned … but never dismissed. The tension and abrupt swings in Bear’s mood and behavior confirmed her intuition that something wasn’t right. When the drawing room doors thudded together, she whirled to look at them and felt the vague uneasiness she had lived with since last night become instantly focused.

  He closed her out so he could sign a few papers?

  When she sailed into the drawing room, he was just settling at the writing table near the windows, where the clerk was laying out an array of documents.

  “Diamond?” He halted halfway into the seat and rose again, dismayed. As she approached, he stepped between her and the table.

  She glanced up at his face, and she knew.

  “What sort of papers do you have to sign?” she asked, fierce with control.

  “Financial details. N-nothing you would be interest—” He halted and reddened around the ears as he realized how absurd that reasoning sounded.

  “Financial ‘details’ have been my life,” she said, feeling her blood withdrawing from her limbs, leaving them cold and heavy. Her stomach, now inundated, began to sink. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be interested in whatever business dealings you have with Philip Vassar?” Those words carried a weight of foreboding. Philip Vassar was her banker.

  “Nothing really. It’s just that you’re already busy and I have all of this under control.”

  She looked into his eyes and, after a second, his gaze fled hers. Steeling herself, she darted around him and picked up a set of the papers before the clerk could snatch them away.

  “The Mercantile Bank of Baltimore,” she read aloud, “acting as agent on behalf of the Wingate Companies enters into this agreement with the Montana Central and Mountain Railroad and its principal, Barton H. McQuaid …”

  Blinking, not wanting to believe what she had just read, she read it again.

  The Wingate Companies—her companies—were providing the funding for Bear’s railroad. And the deal had been brokered and approved by Philip Vassar … her advisor, her banker. All without her knowledge or approval.

  How could he … how could they possibly … without asking her? She looked up, remembering the comments made at the wedding. She was a married woman. They didn’t have to have her approval. They had her husband’s.

  A cannonball blowing through the chest couldn’t have stunned her any more. She couldn’t exhale, couldn’t move except to lower her eyes along that typewritten page filled with legal terms and definitions that set forth with dry precision a bone-deep betrayal of her trust. She managed to lift the page and uncovered at the top of the next sheet the amount he was taking from her companies: three hundred thousand dollars.

  Dear heaven—it was a fortune! Her fortune.

  The papers made a swooshing sound as they slipped from her hand, hit the desk, and scattered. She looked up, caught in a maelstrom of conflicting images and memories, seeing their unusual history in an ugly new light. Bear roaring at her during their first meeting, then becoming the gentleman when he learned who she was; Bear worming his way into Robb
ie’s confidence with his stories; Bear conveniently rescuing her … carrying her when she fainted, lecturing her, kissing her, keeping her shameful secrets, and then stepping in to save her from three grasping fiancés. The more she recalled, the worse it seemed. The evidence was irrefutable. Bear had gone through the motions of marriage vows with her … used his considerable carnal skill to lure her to put her trust in him … pretended to treat her with care and tenderness … even refused the wedding gift she offered him … all the while planning and maneuvering to finance his railroad with her affections.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” she asked, her voice choked. “Or did you expect that by the time I learned of this, you’d have your precious railroad and it wouldn’t matter?”

  “If you’ll let me explain—”

  “Explain?” she said, trembling all the way to her knees, feeling as if she’d been broadsided by a Baldwin Ten Wheeler. “I believe those papers say it all, McQuaid. You needed money for your railroad and you were clever enough to marry yourself a fortune. A bank account with a bustle. A damned soft touch.” She started for the door, but he grabbed her by the arm and held her.

  “I meant to talk to you—to make you a businesslike proposal—”

  “When?” she demanded bitterly, refusing to look at him. “Before or after your lecture on how my fiancés would steal me blind?” Tears welled, burning her eyes. “Before or after you ‘rescued’ me and then demanded that I marry you in payment? Before or after you made certain I couldn’t say the word ‘no’?”

  Pain-spurred anger billowed beneath her shock, bringing with it a surge of energy. She managed to jerk her arm from his grip and headed for the door.

  “Diamond—” He recovered in time to make it to the doorway ahead of her and plant himself in her way. “Look, I was an idiot and a coward for not facing you with it,” he said, blanching as if the admission were ground from his very bones. “But I’m not a thief. If you’ll just listen to—” She looked up with her eyes blazing and tears burning down her cheeks and he stopped dead.

  “Don’t you have some papers to sign?” she said, her voice raw with pain.

  Scorched, he released her.

  As she reached the center of the hall, she shouted for Hannah, Hardwell, and Jeffreys. Within seconds, her lady guardian and butler were rushing down the stairs and in from the front portico in a frantic state.

  “Have Ned bring the coach around now. And help him load this mess into it,” she ordered furiously, swiping tears from her red-streaked cheeks. “Bring a wagon around, too, if you have to—I want all of this out of here—as soon as possible. Hannah”—she turned to the startled elder lady—“please … would you clear McQuaid’s things out of the master suite?” She halted and stiffened, struggling to keep from breaking down. “Be sure to get everything. I don’t want anything of his left behind.”

  “Just what in blazes do you think you’re doing?” Bear demanded, towering like a thundercloud in the doorway behind her.

  “Helping you leave. That was what you were planning to do, wasn’t it? Leave?” She started for the library, but he intercepted her at the stairs.

  “We have to talk, Diamond.” Seared pride filled his voice with compelling smoke. “I know this must seem low-down and conniving, but I swear, I never meant it to be. I never wanted to take anything from you. I’m going to pay back every penny. This is a business loan, pure and simple.”

  “There is nothing pure or simple about what you have done, Barton McQuaid,” she said, swallowing back the sob rising in her throat. “I want you out of my house and out of my life.” She wrenched free and stabbed a finger toward the front doors. “Go back to your precious Montana and build your damned railroad … if there is such a thing as the Montana Central and Mountain. Go!” She poured her pain and anger into one final command before she stalked into the library. “And don’t come back.”

  Hardwell came running from the morning room just in time to see Diamond storm into the library and slam the door with enough force to rattle the walls three floors up.

  Bear looked around and found Hannah, Hardwell, Jeffreys, Mrs. Cullen, and several parlor maids staring at him in alarm. Into that charged scene bounded Robbie, his face ruddy and his eyes alight and searching.

  “What happened?” he asked with his usual artlessness. “Somebody die or somethin’?”

  Jolted from his shock, Bear barreled down the hall to the library and banged on the door with his fist. “Come out of there, Diamond. Let’s discuss this … at least listen to me.” There was no response, so he banged again. Harder. “Open up, dammit!” he shouted. “You can’t stay in there forever!”

  But the silence on the other side of the door said she intended to give it a try. He stalked back to the dumbfounded Jeffreys.

  “Get me a hammer and a steel chisel.” When the butler hesitated, Bear specified: “Now!”

  Minutes later, everything was in tumult. Bear was taking a hammer and cold chisel to the hinges of the library door; Hannah was clearing out the master suite while wringing her hands; Hardwell was trying in vain to catch Robbie and haul him to his room; and Jeffreys and the servants were scurrying to pack the coach while craning necks and straining to catch a glimpse of what was happening between the newlyweds.

  Then the last hinge was yanked out and tossed aside. Bear half lifted, half dragged the massive oak door from the opening and slammed it against the wall.

  “Have you gone mad? Tearing the house apart?” Diamond was standing in the middle of the room, her arms clamped around her waist as if she were holding herself together. Her eyes were red and her chest was heaving with spasms left by dying sobs.

  Bear had never felt such volcanic fury, despair, or guilt in his entire life—much less all in the same moment. Half an hour ago he had had everything he had ever wanted and more: the money, material, and equipment to build his railroad … his own private railroad car … a beautiful and loving wife to come home to when his railroad was done. But now, seeing her standing there with her heart breaking … believing that none of what he had said to her or done with her was real … that he had used and was now discarding her … he felt as naked and resourceless as he had at sixteen when he was banished from the only home he’d ever known.

  She had trusted him … taken him into her home and her bed and her well-guarded heart. In these last three days he had managed to penetrate her defenses enough to glimpse the passionate, loving woman at the core of her. He had seen her, known her, as no one else ever had. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t intended her harm … that he had honestly believed he was helping her as well as himself. She didn’t believe any of that. He’ll—she didn’t even believe he was building a railroad! If he walked out that door and stepped onto that train by himself, she would never believe it.

  He stared at her beautiful Montana-sky eyes, now reddened and filled with pain. He saw her chin quiver and dropped his gaze. It fell on something near her feet. There, on the Persian carpet, lay the little green and gold Pullman car … the one she had given to him as a wedding gift. One corner was crumpled and the top had broken open, spilling the miniature contents across the rug.

  He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, it was to one simple and desperate possibility.

  “So, you think I gulled you into marriage just to do you out of some money,” he declared hoarsely. “You don’t believe there is a Montana Central and Mountain Railroad. Fine. Then you’ll have to come with me to Montana and watch me build it.” He moved toward her. “Get your things.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.” She stiffened and stepped backward.

  “You’re coming with me, even if I have to carry you kicking and screaming.” He advanced again. “Now get your things.”

  Anger boiled up inside her. He wasn’t content to just take her fortune and play her for forty kinds of a fool—he had to personally control and humiliate her. For the first time in years, she used the word she had worked diligently to cull
from both her life and lexicon.

  “No.”

  All movement stopped in the hall. A murmur went through the servants at that monumental occurrence, and Hardwell and Hannah stared in shock at one another, wondering if they had heard correctly. She repeated it.

  “No. I’m not going anywhere. Non, nay, nein, and just plain NO!” He just stared at her, and she snapped, “Are you having trouble with the concept?”

  Of all the damned times for her to begin saying no! The lines were drawn in the sand and there was nothing for him to do but to enforce his manly edict.

  “I said, I’m going to prove to you that I’m not a thief, a huckster, or a common crook. Get your things. You’re coming with me.”

  “No.” She huddled back, her resolve growing and hardening with each repetition. It was getting easier for her to say no; he had no time to waste.

  On impulse he lunged forward, planted his shoulder in her midsection, and hoisted her up onto his shoulder. She screeched and flailed for balance and began a tirade composed of one word.

  “No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-nooooooo!”

  He headed with her for the front doors and managed to trundle her outside, despite her kicking and pounding on his back and grabbing the door frame as they passed. Desperately, she called to Hardwell, Hannah, and even Jeffreys—none of whom were equipped to challenge the towering Westerner’s actions. In mounting panic, she called to Robbie to go for help.

  Instead, her young charge came running after them, yelling, “Can I come, too, Bear? Let me come, too!”

  “Some time out West might do you a world of good,” Bear said vehemently. “What do you say, Diamond?” He halted at the carriage door and gave her upturned rear a resounding swat. “Shall we take him with us?”