Authors: Connie Mason
Belle had no idea what Casey was saying as his lips came down on hers. Words were wrenched
from him in a low growl. Whatever he was muttering was lost to her in the heat of Casey’s mouth and the melting strength of his arms.
“I’m sorry, Belle, so damn sorry. Had I known. Oh, God, had I known … Too late … Too late …”
Realizing the futility of his retrospection, Casey abruptly broke off the kiss and turned to leave.
Reduced to a boneless heap by his kisses, Belle was stunned by his abrupt dismissal. “Casey, wait! What did you say? I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do. You never will. If you only knew. … I have to leave for a few days, Belle. I have business to take care of. Have Sanchez watch over Tommy if you can spare him in the diner.”
His words had a chilling effect. “Where are you going? Are you coming back?”
“I’m coming back, Belle.” He knew she would need him after McAllister took her son, even though she might hate him for his part in it.
Belle watched him disappear through the door, wondering if she would ever see Casey Walker again. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. She didn’t need a man, she only needed Tommy. It briefly occurred to her that Casey might tell T.J. where to find Tommy. But she quickly discarded the notion. She had never mentioned where T.J. lived. She didn’t know much about Casey, but what little she did know convinced her that he wasn’t the kind of man to pull so despicable a stunt. Surely he felt the same kind of attraction she felt, didn’t he? He would never hurt her like that, would he?
Belle wanted to believe in the basic goodness of
man, but had learned the hard way to trust sparingly. Casey had done nothing to earn her distrust except for trying to convince her to give her son up to McAllister. However much she tried to convince herself that she could trust Casey, a small niggling doubt remained. She vowed to be extra vigilant with Tommy until Casey returned and she learned why he had suddenly left town. For her own peace of mind she had to believe in Casey. Had to trust that he wouldn’t betray her to McAllister. It would destroy her to learn that Casey was like McAllister and men of his ilk.
Casey boarded the stagecoach at the Wells Fargo office the following morning. He journeyed the entire distance to San Francisco in brooding silence, though he knew it would change nothing. He’d lost the choice to back out of this assignment the day he’d taken T.J.’s money and sent it to Simon Levy. His strong sense of duty was in direct opposition to his sense of honor. Since when had he developed a conscience? Casey wondered. This was the first time he could recall allowing sentiments to interfere with duty. And all because of a very courageous, immensely appealing young woman named Belle Parker McAllister.
He’d met women more beautiful than Belle. Women perfect in every respect. Women without deformities. But he’d met no woman who engaged his fancy or defied logic or reason like Belle. If she possessed a modicum of sense she’d see the logic of allowing her father-in-law to raise Tommy, to give him the world, if he so desired. Perhaps he could act as mediator, Casey considered, and work out something
whereby McAllister and Belle could share custody. The theory sounded entirely reasonable, which made Casey feel a helluva lot less like a heel than he had been feeling. If he put his mind to it, perhaps he’d find a way to make both parties happy.
Two days later Casey stood before T.J. McAllister.
“It’s about time, Walker,” McAllister said sourly. “Where in the hell have you been for the past month? I’d begun to think you’d taken off with my money.”
“I always get my man, Mr. McAllister. I found your grandson, but there are some mitigating circumstances that need addressing before I tell you where he is.”
McAllister’s eyes lit up. “You’ve found Tommy? Good God, man, you
are
good! My men have been a whole year looking for the lad without finding a clue to his whereabouts.”
“Yeah, well, as I was saying, there are still some things that need defining.”
Instantly suspicious, McAllister asked, “What things?”
“For instance. What about the boy’s mother? Do you intend to share custody with her? Or give her visiting rights?”
“Belle?” He gave a bark of laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding. The woman’s a whore. She could care less about the boy.”
Casey felt his temper rising. “How well do you know Belle?”
McAllister’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “The question is, how well do
you
know Belle? Are you
falling for the whore? I told you she was good. I warned you about her. Look how she snared Tom. Lame or no, that woman lured Tom into her bed then talked him into marrying her.”
“Cut the crap, McAllister! I think you know the truth about Belle but are afraid to admit it. You’re blind to everything but the need to salve your own conscience for Tom’s death. You think you can do that by giving Tommy everything his mother can’t.”
“You weren’t paid to pass judgment, Walker. I gave you hard cash to find my grandson. You’ve found him, I’m satisfied. Now, tell me where he is.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Are you willing to share custody with Belle? Or offer her a place in your home so she can see Tommy every day? It’s only right, you know.”
“Who in the hell made you my conscience? I want nothing to do with that whore. If not for her my son would still be alive. There will be no sharing of custody. I don’t want Belle anywhere within my sight. And she’s not going to get a red cent of my money, either.”
He’d tried, sweet Jesus, he’d tried. Nothing in Casey’s life had prepared him for something like this. He’d been accused of being cold, determined, and thoroughly merciless. Unfeeling. Even heartless. He’d had taken pride in his ability to do his job without becoming emotionally involved. He’d always brought in his man, always solved his case using whatever means available, and gone on to the next assignment with a clear conscience. Not this time. Oh, no, not this time. Something inside him balked at betraying Belle.
“I feel sorry for you, McAllister. Wild horses
couldn’t drag the information from me. It will be a cold day in hell when I tell you where to find Belle and Tommy.”
McAllister leapt from his chair, waving his hands before Casey like a madman. “What do you mean? You took my money! You accepted the assignment. I paid you in good faith. I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve bedded the bitch.”
Casey’s clenched fists and white lips should have warned McAllister, but they didn’t.
“How was she, Walker? She must have been damn good in the sack to get you so fired up. Go ahead and screw her head off, it won’t change a damn thing. I paid you to do a job and you owe me. Give me the information I want.”
Grasping McAllister’s lapels, Casey pulled him out of the chair and halfway across his desk, giving him a vicious shake for good measure. “Go to hell! I wouldn’t give you the time of day. You needn’t worry about your money.” Releasing McAllister, Casey grabbed paper and pen from the desk, scribbled an IOU and threw it in his face. “Here! I’ll see that you get every penny I owe you.”
Free from Casey’s bruising grip, McAllister slumped back into his chair, his face mottled with rage. “Allan Pinkerton is going to know about this. I’m not without influence. I’ll see that you never work again for the agency.”
A vision of Belle appeared before Casey’s eyes, her face tear-stained, her arms raised beseechingly as McAllister carried off her son. An instant later it was replaced by Mark’s face, wan and pinched from his months in prison, pleading with him to set him free. He was being torn from both sides. And in the center was his honor, his very reputation as a
detective. In the end there was no choice but the one he had already made.
“I said you’ll get your money back and I meant it. You have my IOU. I’ll deal with Allan Pinkerton. If he wants my resignation he’ll get it. Good day, sir.”
“Damn you to hell! I want my grandson. You won’t get away with this, Walker. I’ll hire a hundred men to find him if I have to. No one cheats T.J. McAllister. No one!”
McAllister was still raging when Casey left. He knew he’d made a serious enemy, and that his job was on the line, but he couldn’t betray Belle, not for all the money in the world. He depended on his long association with Allan Pinkerton to stand him in good stead. When he left McAllister he went directly to the telegraph office.
As concisely as possible, Casey told Pinkerton he was dropping out of the case and that he needed a loan of three thousand dollars. Several hours later Pinkerton wired back, stating that he trusted Casey’s judgment but expected a full report at his Chicago office. A bank draft would be mailed to him in care of General Delivery in San Francisco.
The next day Casey boarded the Placerville stagecoach. Upon his return he was determined to tell Belle about his association with McAllister and his reason for being in Placerville.
If Casey hadn’t been so distraught, he would have realized that McAllister wasn’t going to let the matter drop. Shortly after Casey left his office, McAllister hired two thugs to watch Casey and report on his movements. When told Casey had boarded a stagecoach, McAllister hurried to the Wells Fargo office and learned that Casey had purchased a ticket to Placerville. He dispatched his
two hirelings forthwith to Placerville, giving them precise instructions and a letter that was to be left for Casey Walker.
“Hello, Belle.”
Belle’s heart leapt with gladness at the sight of Casey. “You’re back!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
She forced a smile. “It had entered my mind.”
He returned her smile, though he felt little like smiling. What he had to tell Belle was bound to make her hate him.
“Are you going to stay, Casey?”
Casey’s smile faltered. He had wired Simon Levy before he left San Francisco and told him to contact him in Placerville if the missing witness was found. If the witness failed to respond to the reward soon, Casey knew he had to return to Arizona and conduct his own search. Mark was depending on him and he couldn’t let his kid brother down.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to leave Belle and Tommy at the mercy of a man like McAllister. Refusing to tell McAllister where to find Tommy was the most selfless thing he’d ever done, and the most foolish. It did little to enhance his reputation as a Pinkerton detective or endear him to the agency. What it did was restore his honor. Did he still have a job? he wondered. Almost every penny he had to his name had gone toward lawyer fees in Mark’s behalf.
“Belle, there is something …” Christ, he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Call him a coward, call him foolish, but he didn’t want Belle to think of him as a betrayer. “I can stick around a while longer,” he
finally said. “To make sure your father-in-law doesn’t get wind of your whereabouts.”
“Why would he? It’s been a year since I left. I’d appreciate it, however, if you could stay until Wan Yo is on his feet again.”
“I’ll try, Belle, but I can’t promise. There are things I haven’t told you. Things that … You see, my brother is in prison for a killing he didn’t commit. I’m waiting for his lawyer to wire me about a missing witness. As soon as I hear something I’ll be heading back to Arizona.”
“Oh, Casey, I’m so sorry.” At last she was learning something about Casey Walker. “Is your home in Arizona?” she probed gently.
“Not exactly,” he hedged. “I travel a lot. I promise to tell you all about it before I leave.” And hope you don’t hate me, he thought but did not say.
Casey had no inkling that he was staring at Belle with longing in his eyes until she started fidgeting beneath his intense perusal. He stared at her lips, recalling how sweet they tasted and how eagerly she had responded to his kisses. But after the way he’d lied to her about his assignment in Placerville, he didn’t have the right to kiss her. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I think I’ll go see Tommy now. I missed that little scamp.”
He was almost out the door when Belle called out softly, “Casey. Thank you.”
He turned back to her. “For what?”
“For coming back. I-I missed you. Trust is an awesome burden to have to bestow on someone, but I feel you’ve earned it.”
“Don’t credit me with virtues I don’t deserve,” Casey warned as he strode out the door.
T
he burden of Belle’s trust weighed heavily on Casey. Defying McAllister had been a difficult choice, but Casey was smart enough to realize that McAllister would use his resources to find Belle and Tommy, and he would succeed sooner or later. That could mean disaster for Belle. Tommy was her whole life.
Casey spent the following days trying to decide whether to tell Belle to take Tommy and run, or to say nothing and hope for the best. Since he had formally disassociated himself from the case, technically he had no further interest in what happened and he should leave. He had his own problems to solve. Unfortunately, extenuating circumstances, which consisted of a sable-haired, brown-eyed temptress and a winsome little boy, prevented him from leaving.
The cast had been removed from Wan Yo’s leg and he was getting stronger every day. The old Chinaman had made it abundantly clear that he considered himself more than capable of protecting Tommy. Every instinct told Casey he should leave,
but his conscience demanded that he tell Belle that McAllister was hot on her trail. Instead of acting upon either his instinct or conscience, Casey drifted into indecision.
He was in his small room behind the kitchen one evening when Tommy drifted in and sat down beside him on the bed, watching while Casey cleaned his gun by lamplight.
“Are you going to use that?” Tommy asked, indicating the gun.
Casey gave him a quick smile. “Only if I have to.”
“Wan Yo is well now. Mama says you’ll be going away soon. Are you?”
“I reckon I’ll have to leave one day soon. Then it will be up to you and Wan Yo to take care of your mother.”
“Do you think mean old McAllister has stopped looking for me?”
“The man is your grandfather, Tommy.”
“He wants to take me away from Mama. I don’t like him.”