Wild Roses (23 page)

“I don't think so. I still hold a trump card,” he said, tightening his grip on Ella. “Where's Margaret?”

“She obviously has your sense of familial loyalty. She ran, trying to save her own skin. My boys have her trapped in the carriage. She's not going anywhere.”

Harold chanced a brief glimpse around and realized he stood alone, that neither his men nor Margaret could come to his aid. “You'll free Margaret and she and I will leave. I'll release Ella when my daughter and I are safe.”

“You can't expect me to believe you.”

“Let Ella go, Harold,” demanded Harrigan, trying to edge a little closer without alarming the man. “You can't possibly win this standoff. You at least have a chance to survive this. You own enough people in this town to escape hanging for your crimes, probably even to elude jail. But if you hurt Ella, you're a dead man.”

Joshua had moved to stand behind Harold, but Harrigan knew the youth would not shoot the man until Ella was safely out of the way. There was always the chance that the bullet could go through Harold and hurt Ella. Harrigan began to think that Harold was not going to calmly surrender even though it was the sensible thing to do.

“No, I'll have no chance at all,” Harold said, his gaze darting from Harrigan to Louise and back again. “I've made a mistake here and mistakes are weaknesses. The wolves will move in fast now and tear me to pieces. Now they'll have something they can use against me. I haven't got any life left here, none at all.”

“So start one somewhere else,” snapped Louise. “Just let Ella go and leave us the hell alone.”

“No, you won't let this rest. You know it all now, though I'm damned if I can figure out how.” Harold slowly smiled. “I've lost, but I think I'll make sure you have too.”

Harrigan knew what Harold planned to do, but was too late to stop him. He watched in horror as Harold shoved Ella over the embankment. As he moved to help her, Harold tried to shoot him, but Joshua was quicker. Harold got off only one wild, harmless shot before Joshua's bullet slammed into his back. Harrigan spared barely a glance at Harold, looking only long enough to reassure himself that the man was really dead, then rushed to the edge of the river. He did not see Ella and his heart froze.

“Over here!” cried a weak, shaking voice.

Ella had to call twice before the four pale faces peering over the riverbank turned her way. She was not sure how she had kept herself from falling into the river. She could only recall scrambling, tumbling, and clawing her way through the mud until she grasped the thick branch of a dead tree. It hung so low over the water that she could feel the currents tugging at her skirt and her hair. Ella prayed that her rescuers could reach her soon, for the branch she clung to like a monkey, with her legs and her arms wrapped tightly around it, did not look sturdy enough to hold her out of the water for very long. If she was any judge, its tumble into the river was long overdue.

“How the hell did you get over there?” Louise demanded.

“I was just wondering that myself.” Ella screeched in alarm when the branch cracked, dipping her a little lower into the swift water. “I don't think I'll be here much longer.”

“Joshua's going to get a rope,” Harrigan said as he yanked off his boots and socks and began to edge his way down the slick embankment.

“Maybe you ought to wait. The footing here is very treacherous.”

“Quiet, woman. I'm determined to be a hero. You should be encouraging me instead of trying to dampen my pretensions.”

“Those pretensions will be well soaked if you slide into the Susquehanna.”

“You need someone to help you with the rope. You can't let go without being swept away. What did you plan to do? Catch the rope in your teeth?”

Ella decided that piece of nonsense did not deserve a reply, and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the tree. At least he had something to hold onto now. “Where are Harold and Margaret?”

“Harold is dead and Margaret is tied up in the carriage.”

“Margaret won't be pleased about that.”

“Margaret can go to hell. Her father will undoubtedly be waiting for her there.”

Harrigan caught the rope Joshua lowered down to him and cautiously edged closer to Ella. After closely inspecting her situation, he decided to secure the rope around his own waist. There was no way to safely tie it around her, for any added weight on her precarious perch could easily send her tumbling into the river. He might be able to grab her, but without the rope to anchor him they would both be swept away. One look at the cloudy, rushing water was enough to tell him that even the strongest swimmer would have to fight hard to survive. Edging as close to her as he dared, he grasped her by the wrist.

“You're going to have to let go, Ella,” he ordered her.

“If I do, the river will take me. It has a pretty strong grip on me now.”

“I can hold you. Let go and then throw yourself in my direction.”

For a moment, Ella was not sure she could release her grip on the branch. Fear and the cold of the water, seeping through her body, made her feel as if she was locked in place. She realized she trusted Harrigan to grab her and hold on tight. She was just not sure she trusted herself to do as he asked or the river to allow them to escape its hold.

Just as he wondered if Ella was still too soaked in opium to understand him, Harrigan saw the fear in her eyes. “I can hold you, Ella, even if you end up neck deep in the water. And George and the others have a damn firm grip on the other end of this rope. The minute I've got a good hold on you, they'll pull us back up the embankment.” He gave a faint tug on her wrists, heard the wood crack ominously, and felt his heart skip with fear. “We're running out of time, woman. Just toss yourself over here.”

Ella took a deep breath, released the branch, and lunged toward Harrigan. She could not fully subdue a cry of fear as she felt her legs hit the cold water and be pulled by the strong currents. But Harrigan pulled harder. The moment she bumped up against him, she wrapped herself around his strong body as tenaciously as she had clung to the tree branch. She paid little attention to how he got back up the slick riverbank except to notice that it was a rough ride. Ella did not ease her grip on Harrigan or open her eyes until she felt other hands tugging at her.

“You'll be fine now, Ella,” Louise said as she wrapped Ella in a thick blanket Manuel had hastily retrieved from Harold's carriage. “This was not really how I wished it all to end, but at least it has finally ended.”

Once glance at Harold's body was more than enough for Ella to assure herself that the man was dead. There had been numerous times over the last few torturous days that she had prayed hard for Harold's death. She felt no real sense of victory or joy now, although she did feel safe. After so many years of fear and hiding, she decided that was good enough. And perhaps, she decided as she meekly allowed her aunt to wipe the mud from her face, Harold's death was the only way to insure that she remained safe.

“What about the others?” Ella asked, wondering if her voice sounded as slurred to the others as it did to her.

“We'll take them to the sheriff,” replied Harrigan.

“Thompson? He was hand in glove with Harold,” said Louise. “He won't do anything.”

“Oh yes he will,” Harrigan assured her. “After all, he doesn't really want anyone to know for certain that he was no more than Harold's lackey. And I believe that, even if he lets Margaret go, she won't have the power to do anything to you. As Harold said, the wolves will circle soon, so I suspect that very shortly Margaret won't have any money left either.”

“From some of the things I heard Margaret say,” said Ella, “she was not the complete, simple follower you might think she was.”

“No, she wasn't,” agreed Harrigan, aching to say a hundred different things to Ella, but knowing it was not the time, and fearing it might never be. “She was not the leader either. When I was playing the fool for Eleanor, I had the misfortune of coming to know Margaret pretty well. She is venemous and can even see the threat someone could pose to her wealth or standing, but she lacked the wit and the patience to plan anything or enact a plan all on her own. Every step she took was directed by her father. You need not worry about her. It's truly over now.”

Harrigan stared at Ella for a moment, then gently brushed her cheeks with his knuckles, and turned away. As he enlisted the help of the younger men and George in moving Harold's body and securing Harold's men, Ella struggled to think of something to say to him. She wanted to say something clever which would invite him to express his feelings yet not reveal too many of her own.

When Harrigan returned, only to ask her aunt if she could ride, Ella decided that she must look as slow-witted as she felt. She then suffered another of his long, silent stares before he left with George in the carriage, leaving her with a simple, curt “
Good luck
.” A soft curse escaped her as her aunt helped her to her feet. The opium was obviously still numbing her mind, her recovery probably set back by the chill of the river. A strong sense of self-preservation had been all that had cleared it enough to help her fight to survive. As Louise led her to a horse, Ella fought the urge to weep. She knew she might well have just lost her last chance of having more with Harrigan than a brief tempestuous affair and some sweet memories.

“You need to rest and recover for a few days,” said Louise as she rode up beside Ella and took control of her reins. “Then we can make some decisions about what to do.”

“We can go back to Wyoming,” Ella said.

“Are you certain?”

Ella glanced in the direction the carriage had gone and sighed. “Yes. There's nothing here for me now.”

The bright sun made Ella wince and she briefly massaged her temples, trying to rub away a persistent headache. She was not sure if it was a lingering effect of the opium, her own sometimes overwhelming sense of unhappiness, or facing the bright summer sun after spending too much time in a shaded hotel room and, now, several tedious hours in a dark lawyer's office. A quick glance at her aunt revealed Louise receiving a tender, modest farewell kiss from George, and Ella winced over her own spasm of jealousy. George had been a tremendous help since the rescue at the riverside three days ago, but Harrigan had completely disappeared.

“Shall we return to the hotel and have some lunch?” asked Louise even as she hooked her arm through Ella's and tugged her niece toward the hotel.

“Shouldn't we go to the jail to see if there's any news about Margaret?” Ella frowned a little and glanced toward the jail. “The woman deserves all she gets, but I think I'd like to know what that is.”

“George is tending to the matter.”

“So, you've completely forgiven George, have you?”

“Just as you have completely forgiven Harrigan.”

“If that is so clear for others to see, how come Harrigan has not even stopped by to see how I am faring after my ordeal?” The fact that Harrigan's absence hurt her deeply annoyed Ella. “George doesn't even mention the fool.”

Louise sighed as they entered the hotel and she steered them toward the dining room. “I've asked George about that and he just says that it's not his place to say anything. No amount of cajolery or scolding changes his mind. If he knows anything, it's been told to him in confidence, and he'll never tell anyone, not even me.”

Ella shook her head as they sat down at a table near the front windows of the hotel and her aunt ordered each of them a meal. She was not really surprised at George's reluctance, but had hoped for a clue or two that would explain Harrigan's conspicuous absence. The only advantage to George's courtship of Louise was that it provided Ella with some time alone, a little time now and again to give in to her hurt and her sadness. Ella was sure that, if she had had to put up a brave front continuously for three days, she would have gone mad. She just wondered when those cleansing, exhaustive bouts of crying would begin to wash away her pain. She also wished they would cool the desire she still had for Harrigan, but they only made her tired.

When the waiter stuck a plate of steak and pan-fried potatoes in front of her, Ella blinked, realizing that she had been lost in her thoughts for a long time. She sent her aunt an apologetic smile and began to eat. The knowing look Louise gave her told Ella that she was not doing as good a job of concealing her emotions as she thought. Louise's look also hinted at a heart-to-heart talk and Ella inwardly sighed. For a little while, they ate their meal in complete silence, but then Louise finished, patted her lips with her napkin, and looked squarely at Ella. Ella swallowed the last bite of her steak and tensed.

“Perhaps, if you want the man as sorely as you seem to, it is time to swallow your pride,” suggested Louise.

“I hadn't realized that I'd shown any pride in my dealings with Harrigan,” Ella said, then scowled when her aunt briefly grinned. “I don't see my degradation as an appropriate source of amusement.”

“Oooh, Miss Haughty rears her prim, pinched-lip face.” Louise reached across the table and patted Ella's clenched hand. “Your words and the way you spoke them made me laugh, not your situation. Have you thought of some way to let Harrigan know that you've forgiven him?”

“I didn't try to shoot him that day by the river. That should have told him enough.” Ella smiled weakly when her aunt chuckled. “He was the one who didn't believe me, the one who handed me over to Harold. I would think that it's up to him to speak to me, to apologize.”

“Something no man likes to do. Yes, he should have been on his knees at your bedside, begging your forgiveness, but that didn't and never will happen. So you must decide how badly you want this man. Maybe he needs a little nudge, a little hint from you that you will receive him cordially. Perhaps you could send him a brief note of thanks for saving your life.”

“He damn well should've helped me,” Ella said, causing the plump woman who was clearing away the dinner plates and setting out the dessert to look at her in wide-eyed shock. “I wouldn't have been in any trouble if he had just listened to me, had put just a little faith in me.”

Louise smiled her thanks to the woman who had served them and took a moment to savor the apple crumble smothered in thick cream. “Lovely,” she murmured, then fixed her gaze on Ella. “Yes, he should have, but he also had some good reasons to mistrust women of society and wealth. I think a deep guilt for the loss of the family business made it even worse. When he explained himself, I thought they were all good reasons to believe the worst of Harold. He said that was exactly why he tried so hard not to believe you. It made sense to me.”

“I wish it made sense to me.”

“Oh, I think it does. You're just feeling contrary. The man knew Harold was a liar and a thief. You were not only the man's niece, but you moved freely within the circle of society that had so blithely destroyed him and his family then cast him aside. Why should he believe you? And he did all he had promised he would. He sought out the truth and came to help you.”

“For all Harrigan knew, Harold could have planned to put a bullet in my brain the moment I was in his hands.”

“That was not Harold's way and Harrigan knew it.”

“If he knew Harold was such a dog, why did he work for the man?”

“For money, plain and simple. Are you going to write that note, or just argue the truth with me all day long?”

Ella muttered a curse and concentrated on her dessert for a moment as she struggled to sort out her thoughts and feelings. It was not easy to look beyond her pain and, she reluctantly admitted, her badly bruised pride. All she had ever asked of Harrigan was that he believe her and he had refused to do so. Now her aunt was asking her to accept Harrigan's convoluted reasoning for that lack of trust, one he had not even seen fit to give her directly. She had forgiven the man, but the longer he stayed away, the more tenuous that forgiveness became.

“I grow weary of holding out my hand only to have it slapped away,” Ella finally said.

“Can one more time make you feel any worse than you do now?” Louise asked quietly.

“Perhaps I have already begun to feel better and do not wish to risk a relapse.”

“No, it's too soon. A simple note of thanks for what he did will neither expose your feelings nor endanger your pride. It simply lets Harrigan know that you might be approachable. Do it, Ella. I promise you that, if you don't, it'll be something you will regret for the rest of your life.”

“Then I'll send the damned letter. You do realize, however, that if this fails, or if I only reap another harvest of hurt from this, I will feel free to blame you.”

Louise smiled. “Yes, dear. I believe I am strong enough to bear that burden.”

 

 

Ella paced her hotel room, paused in front of the window, and had to clench her fists tightly to resist the urge to look out for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Immediately after lunch she had penned a polite little note to Harrigan, stiffly thanking him for his aid. She knew he had received it, for George had told her so when he had arrived to take Louise to the theater an hour ago. Harrigan had now had a half day to decide what to do and there was still no sign of the man.

She flung herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It annoyed her that she had allowed a flicker of hope to spring to life in her heart. Harrigan's lack of response had brutally crushed that and she wondered why she continued to allow the man to hurt her. No man could be worth such pain or the continuous subjugation of her own pride.

What she wanted to do was blithely consider Harrigan as no more than an error in judgment and return to Wyoming with her head held high. She both loved and hated the man, both ached to hold him and ached to beat him senseless. Those conflicting emotions were almost as painful as Harrigan's rejection. She also feared that the wounds he had dealt were too deep to heal, that he had scarred her heart so badly she would never love again.

A sharp rap at the door yanked her from her dark thoughts and she felt her heart leap into her throat. She scrambled off the bed and hastily tidied her appearance as she strode to the door. It was not until she had flung open the door that she realized she should have at least inquired who was there. The fact that a solemn-faced Harrigan filled the doorway was not necessarily a reason to be so blissfully welcoming.

“Shouldn't you have found out who was knocking first?” he asked, then cursed himself for beginning their first meeting in days with a criticism.

“You should be glad I didn't,” she said even as she allowed him to walk in and shut the door behind him. “If I had known it was you, I might not have opened the door.”

“Why not? You invited me.”

Ella silently cursed her aunt, but calmly said, “No, I didn't.”

“You sent me a note.”

“A polite word of thanks for saving my life. I felt it was only courteous to do so, despite the fact that you helped to put my life in danger.” She moved to a dresser where a decanter of wine and several glasses had been set out for their use. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, a little wine would be nice,” he murmured as he glanced around the room, then moved to sit in one of a pair of armchairs set in front of the window.

Ella took a deep breath to still the shaking in her hands then carefully poured out two glasses of wine. Praying that she looked calm and dignified, she served Harrigan his drink and sat down next to him. There was a tense distance between them that made her want to weep. She had no idea of how to cross it or even if he wanted her to try.

“George said you've sorted through all of Harold's twisted affairs,” Harrigan said with a stiff cordiality. “It was good of you to try to restore all that he and Margaret had stolen.”

“I'm just sorry I couldn't do the same with what the Templetons have taken,” she replied.

“Oh, I think they'll soon fall. Not everything lost can be regained, but at least there will be some justice. And you heard what happened to Margaret?” Ella nodded, and he continued, “I was a little surprised that she would hang herself. I thought she was stronger than that.”

“Her strength was Harold, her place in society, and her wealth. She could see that they were all gone now.”

“I wonder which one of those things mattered the most?” he murmured, then finished off his wine, abruptly stood up, and paced the room for a moment before turning to stare at her. “And now you plan to return to Wyoming.”

“Yes,” she answered and knew that, at least for the moment, she would not waver in that decision. “I cannot stay here. There's nothing here for me save bad memories. This place has never welcomed me. And Louise is all the family I have now. I need to be with her.”

“I understand. And I need to remain here. Not just for business reasons either. My family is here. I also intend to try to bring down the Templetons.”

“And maybe, if good fortune smiles on you, regain the family business.” She did not like the idea that he would have any contact with Eleanor, but knew he had to grasp at any chance there was to regain what he had lost.

“Exactly. I have to try.”

“I understand. Is that what you came to tell me?”

“I don't know why I came.” He softly cursed and gave her a crooked smile. “Yes I do. I wanted to see you before you left. Hell, I wanted to do a lot more than just look at you. I guess I hoped there would be a small chance that you would want the same.”

Ella stared at him and wondered why she was not deeply insulted and furious. She decided it was because he was being painfully honest despite the discomfort it so clearly caused him. There was so much more she wanted from him, so much more she wanted him to say, but it would gain her nothing. He would still have to stay in Philadelphia and she would still have to go to Wyoming. Despite the pain she would carry with her, she knew it was the only place she could find the peace she needed. What harm could there be in gathering up a few more memories to take with her?

“That was very arrogant of you,” she murmured.

“Probably damned rude too.”

“And uncivilized. Well, if you intend to behave like a savage, you had better lock the door first.”

She almost laughed at the way he stared at her with an interesting mixture of shock and hope. He tentatively moved toward the door, watching her closely every step of the way. When she just smiled, he moved a lot faster. A cry of surprised laughter escaped her when he locked the door, nearly ran back to her side, and scooped her up into his arms.

“Which one is your bed?” he asked in a hoarse, unsteady voice as he took a step toward the two beds against the far wall.

“The one on the right.”

He placed her on the bed with more haste than gentleness and started to yank off his boots. Ella briefly wished she could savor the sight of his lean, strong body, but he was moving too fast. Infected by the fever he made no effort to hide, she tugged off her slippers and stockings and then begun to undo her gown. She found this display of raw, blind need exciting, and, when he finally flung himself into her arms, she welcomed him eagerly. Their bodies trembled from the strength of the hunger heating their blood.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Sometimes, Mahoney, you talk too damn much,” she said as she cupped his face in her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers.

 

 

Ella looked down at the man sprawled in her arms and slowly threaded her fingers through his thick hair. They had made love twice; furious, greedy love, and she was surprised to realize that she hungered for more. A quick glance at the clock on the mantel over the tiny fireplace told her that that was a need she would have to suppress. George and Louise would soon return from the theater. Both of them knew that she and Harrigan were lovers, but she did not think they needed to see it. Neither did she want any witnesses when Harrigan rose from her arms, pulled on his clothes, and walked out of her life forever.