A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw

Chapter Three

The housekeeper, a no-nonsense woman named Wilhelmina, or Willy for short, had appeared to join the legions of hands blotting at Caroline’s stained gown. “Let’s get you out of this gown. I’ll need to get some soap and vinegar on it before that stain sets in.”

In the day and a half she’d been at the ranch, Caroline had come to admire the woman. If anyone could get the wine out, Willy could. Not that Caroline cared overly much about the gown. She needed to get to her room and think about what to do. She’d never thought to meet the strangely appealing man from the train again, and not under a new identity. What did it mean? Who was he, really? Ever since he walked in, he’d looked at her differently than he had on the train. There was suspicion and caution in his eyes, and she didn’t like the change.

Over the heads of Willy and the maid, who were inspecting the stain, Caroline met Hunter’s gaze. He watched her with narrowed eyes, some new awareness there that hadn’t been present until now. Did he know about his brother?

“Mary, go help her out of her gown and bring it to me straightaway.” The young maid murmured her understanding of Willy’s command, and together Caroline and Mary made their way up the stairs. Caroline looked for Reyes’s dark head the entire way, but she didn’t see him. He’d slipped out during the ruckus, which was worrisome because she had no idea what he intended.

Did these people know about the man they welcomed into their home? As Mary pushed her up the stairs, Caroline darted a glance at Emmy, who was standing next to Hunter in the wide hallway outside the dining room and smiling at something Aunt Prudie had said. Emmaline seemed oblivious, perhaps too deliriously happy in the days leading up to her wedding to even know that she’d embraced someone dangerous. Or did she, too, know about Castillo Jameson’s double identity? Caroline was so confused, she hardly knew what to think.

Was he dangerous? Caroline took in a deep breath and tried to think through the facts. The only thing she really knew from the incident on the train was that he and his friend had been chasing a madman who’d had a gun and had tried to take her hostage. The man was obviously dangerous and a criminal to stoop to such actions. But Reyes, or Castillo Jameson as he was known here, hadn’t even had a gun, as far as she knew. It was entirely possible that the madman had stolen from him or slighted him in some way, and that was the reason they’d followed him.

The only problem with that theory was that the madman had known them. He’d mentioned giving the big one that horrible scar and had referred to Castillo as Reyes. Law-abiding men didn’t go by two names. Caroline hadn’t reported the incident because when they got to the station there had been no mention of a man jumping from the train, and she hadn’t seen the point of involving their family name in a scandal and upsetting Aunt Prudie. But, at dinner, Castillo Jameson had clearly been worried that she would mention their encounter. Every time she’d opened her mouth, he’d tensed. And she knew that he’d spilled the wine intentionally as soon as she’d mentioned leaving and going to see her father.

Had she made a mistake keeping quiet? Was he trying to get her alone?

After making their way up the wide staircase, Caroline and Mary reached her room at the end of the long hallway and rushed inside. Caroline half expected to find the man waiting for her, but the room was vacant. She closed her eyes in relief and nearly smiled at her own ridiculous notion. Mary was with her, and he wouldn’t risk approaching her with someone around. She hoped.

The maid closed the door behind them. “Here, miss, turn around and I’ll help you out of this.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Caroline said, and faced the leaded glass door that led out to the second-floor balcony as the maid unfastened the row of tiny buttons along her spine. The door was framed by windows covered with blue velvet drapes. She checked to make sure the toes of his boots weren’t sticking out at the bottom because he was hiding behind them and nearly smiled again at her own foolishness. Though she did glance at the lock on the door to make sure it was turned. It was.

“What do you know about Castillo Jameson?” she asked on a whim.

“Not much, miss. I’ve seen him a few times in town.”

Well, there was no information there. Mary pulled the silk over Caroline’s head before laying it over the high back of the chair sitting in front of the vanity. Then she returned to untie the bustle and unlace Caroline’s corset. When those were put away in the armoire, Caroline said, “Just bring me my wrapper and take the gown to Willy. I can do the rest.” Mary didn’t argue and helped her shrug into the cream silk dressing gown.

When the maid left, Caroline locked the door and leaned back against the cool mahogany to wait for her heart to calm down. Now that she was away from the tension of Castillo’s presence, she’d decided that maybe she was making too much of this. It was entirely possible there was a reasonable explanation for why Reyes and his friend had been chasing that man on the train. She tried to focus on the information she did know. They’d called the man Bennett, so they’d known his name. They’d also been interested in the location of his father. Perhaps the man’s father had wronged them, somehow.

Clearly, she’d stumbled into something larger than a simple theft on a train. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. Just stay calm, Caroline. You can figure this out. Bringing her hand to her chest, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She’d do nothing until morning. She’d sleep on it and probably be thinking more clearly in the morning.

Crossing the well-appointed room decorated in tasteful shades of blue and cream, Caroline checked the lock on the door leading out to the veranda, even though she could see that it was turned. She was being silly, but she felt much better when she found the knob wouldn’t turn and she went ahead and drew the curtains over the door. She even laughed to herself a bit as she walked to the armoire, her hands pushing the wrap from her shoulders. No one was trying to get her. She’d get into her night rail and go to sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning.

“I’d like a moment before you undress.”

Her heart jumped up into her throat and she gasped and turned to see Reyes stepping out of the small washroom attached to her bedroom. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves and suspenders with no coat or waistcoat, as if he’d been about to retire before deciding to pay a call on her. He still wore the dark trousers and boots he’d been wearing downstairs. Tall, with wide shoulders, his chest roped with muscle beneath his shirt, he seemed to take up most of the space in the room and all of the available air. She had to force a breath into her tightened chest. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

He turned his hands palms out to show he wasn’t armed, though he left them at his sides. A quick glance to his hips and waistband found no weapon stowed there. “I want to talk to you, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream.”

“Why would I want to cooperate with you?” Screaming wasn’t a natural response for her. She very much preferred rational thoughts and actions. But she’d closed the drapes, and now the room seemed very small and very intimate. When he stepped forward, he was closer to the door leading to the hall than she was. They were both an equal distance from the veranda door, but one glance at his long legs and she knew he’d be able to stop her before she reached it.

Perhaps screaming was a viable option in this situation.

“Because I have a man in your father’s room.” He didn’t continue the threat, but he didn’t have to. If she screamed, her father’s life would be in danger.

Her spirits sank to settle like a lump in the pit of her stomach. When they’d passed her father’s room there’d been no light coming from beneath the door, so she’d assumed he’d gone to sleep. She’d been too consumed with her own fears to even worry that he was in danger. Guilt clawed its way past her fear, digging its talons into her heart and giving her courage. “If you hurt him, I swear to God that you will pay,” she said through clenched teeth.

Reyes didn’t move, but something changed in his eyes. It was difficult to tell in the low light of the lamp, but she thought she saw a gleam of respect. Then his lips twitched, one corner of his mouth coming up in a grin that he fought, and she realized that he was only amused. He didn’t believe she had any power to bring him to justice, and maybe she didn’t. “He won’t be harmed, and I swear not to touch you, either. I only want to talk to you.”

“You mean that you want me to do your bidding. I won’t be harmed as long as I do what you want.”

He hesitated and then inclined his head a little in agreement. “I’m certain we can come to an arrangement favorable to both of us.”

Caroline wasn’t nearly as certain. The only remaining door was the one that led to the sitting room. Only it had been turned into a maid’s chamber because of the extra help the Jamesons had hired for the wedding. It was her only hope of getting away from him, so she backed toward it and hoped it wasn’t locked from the other side. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

She turned and ran, but he was on her before she reached the door. One hand went over her mouth while an arm went around her waist to pull her back against him. It was eerily similar to the way the man had grabbed her on the train and almost sent her into a panic.

“You have no reason to fear me.” His deep voice spoke softly against her ear.

As if the fact that he’d appeared in her bedroom wasn’t a good reason to fear him. She jerked her face away, but he followed, keeping his hand firmly in place.

“I want to explain about the train and who I am. Please, mi corazόn.”

The endearment got to her. For that brief moment, he wasn’t an intruder in her bedroom, he was the handsome stranger she’d met on the train. His voice moved like warm honey through her veins, and his warm body was firm against her back. His strength was reassuring, as it had been two days ago. He was so broad, so strong, that her heart quickened for an entirely different reason as her body began to awaken.

Sensing her capitulation, he slowly lifted his hand from her mouth, but kept his arm wrapped around her waist. The fingers of that hand gently bit into her hip, but not in a way that was painful. His touch was a quiet exploration as each finger seemed to become aware of her with soft pressure. She took in a deep breath and his cologne filled her senses. It was the same as the one he’d worn on the train, only this time she had the presence of mind to examine it. Hints of citrus mixed with leather and a woodsy scent she was certain he must have brought in with him from outside. Whatever it was, it gave her the strange urge to turn around and bury her face in his neck to get closer to the smell. Strange how a scent she’d only smelled once before could be comforting and remind her of how he’d soothed her.

Once his hand lifted completely from her mouth, he dropped it to her arm, where it moved down in a slow, almost absentminded stroke that ended much too soon. She closed her eyes as she tried to contain the shiver that traveled down her spine. This was wrong, but despite her best intentions, she was intrigued by him. She had to remind herself that he was an enemy now.

“In the last few minutes, you’ve threatened my father and restrained me. I’m finding it a little difficult to believe that I have nothing to fear from you.”

His grip on her hip loosened, hesitated and then fell away. A moment later he moved back, putting enough space between his chest and her back that she actually missed the heat of his body. Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced him, looking up a bit to meet his gaze. She was taken aback by the green-gold of his eyes. They caught the glow of the lamplight and seemed even more vivid against the shadowed darkness of his skin.

“I’m sorry that was necessary.” His eyes filled with regret. “We seem to have a knack for being tossed together.”

“That appears to be true, yes.” She pressed herself back against the door. She knew running wouldn’t get her anywhere, but she felt safer, more in control, knowing that she could leave.

“Please sit.” He gestured to the two armchairs set near the windows. “I’ll explain to you what I can.”

She hesitated, but there wasn’t any other option aside from screaming. She’d hear him out and could always scream later, if need be. Nodding, she made her way to one of the chairs and perched on the edge, ready to jump up. He took the other one, his long legs stretched out before him, his shoulders spreading from one wing of the chair to the other.

“I’ve met you as a man named Reyes and now as Castillo Jameson. Who are you?”

“My given name is Castillo Jameson. Reyes is my mother’s family. It’s the name I went by after my father left us when I was a boy.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly that she was inclined to believe him. Something about the image of him as a little boy, abandoned by his father, tugged at her heart. She found herself saying, “I’m sorry about your father.”

The words settled into the space between them. He drew in a breath and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she was so aware of him that she noticed; her nerve endings were alive with his presence. It was wrapped around her with an almost tangible thickness.

Clearing his throat—a deep masculine sound that rumbled through her in a most unnerving way—he said, “It... It’s in the past.”

She nodded. “Mr. Jameson is your father...the one who abandoned you?”

“Tanner is my father.” He nodded.

Well, that explained the two names easily enough. She almost felt silly expecting there to be some darker reason, except he had been chasing a man who’d been afraid enough to threaten her life. There had to be more to this.

She hadn’t met Tanner Jameson before this trip west, but Aunt Prudie had always been his champion. However, Aunt Prudie championed anyone who was on Isabelle Hartford Jameson’s bad side. She despised Hunter’s mother and always had. As far as Caroline knew, the feeling was mutual and stemmed from some childhood slight she was unaware of. She had to wonder how much Aunt Prudie knew of Mr. Jameson’s history with his first wife and child.

“Tanner had just been discharged from the army after being shot in the leg. He went home to Texas and met my mother. They were married, but he didn’t stay around long.”

Caroline hadn’t expected more of an explanation, so could only murmur another, “I’m sorry.” She was angry at her parents for their ridiculous demand that she marry, but she couldn’t imagine not having grown up with them. If her father hadn’t taken so much time with her, she probably wouldn’t have plans to become a physician.

“It’s not important. My grandfather raised me and he was a good man. Honorable. I don’t know who I’d have become if he hadn’t been around to guide me.” His eyes focused on the lamp beside her bed, clearly reliving a memory.

Was Miguel also Mr. Jameson’s son? If Mr. Jameson’s first marriage wasn’t officially dissolved, did that make Hunter illegitimate? It was hardly her business, but she couldn’t quite process the implications. “You said you had a younger brother, Miguel?”

He nodded. “My mother remarried years later. Miguel is my half brother, just as Hunter is. Miguel’s father was a good man, too, but he died only a few years into their marriage.”

Caroline sat back in her chair as she watched him. And now she was feeling silly about her earlier outburst and escape attempt. He’d been kind to her on the train, and he was being fairly open with her now. Of course, he could’ve knocked on her door like a normal person and not threatened her father, so she held on to her anger for those transgressions.

After a few moments of silence, he drew in a deep breath and turned his gaze back to her. “A few years ago, a man my grandfather trusted very much murdered him and ran off with his investment funds. I’ve been searching for him ever since, without success. He vanished. But that man on the train was his son. He recognized us and ran. Unfortunately, he ran into you.”

“I’m very sorry for your grandfather. But you couldn’t knock on my door to tell me this? Ask me to sit in the study with you so we could speak?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He laughed and sat back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankle. She couldn’t help but notice how long and powerful he was. “No, I saw the look on your face at dinner. You weren’t going anywhere with me.”