Chapter 18

18

Genevieve read the final telegram from Papa's solicitor, Mr. Morgan.

With the rain tapping against the mercantile window, the lighting was dim and the words faint. But after spending the morning and part of the afternoon sitting in the mercantile and communicating with Mr. Morgan, she'd finally received exactly what she'd requested.

Mr. Morgan's telegram reassured her he'd located the best lawyer in Denver, who would arrive tomorrow to help Ryder fight to keep Boone. Of course, she hadn't revealed to Mr. Morgan that Ryder was her husband and Boone was now her stepchild. That information didn't matter at the moment.

All that truly mattered was finding a way to keep Sadie from taking away Boone.

Mr. Morgan had revealed that Lenora had already discovered Genevieve's whereabouts. Although Mr. Morgan didn't have the ability to communicate the details via a telegram, Genevieve guessed that the news about the missing heiress in all the major newspapers across the country, as well as the offer of a reward, had brought forth plenty of information.

Although she'd already decided to tell Ryder the truth about her identity, she'd wanted to wait to share everything with him once the situation with Sadie was resolved. But now, according to Mr. Morgan, two bodyguards were already on their way to escort her back to New York City, which meant she'd have to tell Ryder everything sooner rather than later.

She hefted the sling in front of her, glad that Boone had finally fallen asleep. He'd been fussy since leaving the ranch yesterday after Sadie's threats.

She brushed a hand across his puckered forehead, wishing she could as easily smooth out the bumps he was sure to face in the coming weeks. Would he cry because he missed her? Would he wonder where she'd gone?

Now faced with the stark reality of having to leave Ryder and Boone, she wanted to find a way to make the situation work. Could she stay? Or maybe she could live part of the time in New York and part in Colorado?

With a sigh, she tucked the last telegram into her pocket along with the others from Mr. Morgan.

The store proprietor, a saggy cigar dangling from his mouth, stood abruptly from his place in front of the telegram machine. "Another one, ma'am."

Gray-haired and weathered, the proprietor had been attentive to her every need all day. After giving him forty dollars and promising him forty more if he was able to help her, he'd treated her like royalty. He'd sent the telegrams without any questions and had relayed the responses as soon as they'd come in. He'd found baby formula and a bottle for Boone. He'd located extra diapers. And he'd even made sure she'd had a noon meal and hot coffee delivered from Frisco's only eating establishment.

The hotel owner had been just as accommodating last night, reminding her more than ever just how much her wealth could buy her and how privileged she truly was. On some level she'd already known that, but her papa had always warned her about becoming arrogant and taught her to be generous, which was why she'd followed in his footsteps by remaining involved in so many charities.

However, after the past weeks of living simply and going without so many of the luxuries she was accustomed to, she was more sensitive than usual to the power she could wield. She supposed in some way she'd always taken her money and power for granted, and now she realized just how much she had, perhaps in a way she never had before.

Whatever the case, the store proprietor had been a godsend. And now, after knowing that Ryder would have the best lawyer coming to defend him, she felt comfortable returning to the ranch with Boone. It was past time to go if she hoped to arrive before Ryder.

If he got home early, she didn't want him to worry where she was. After all, she hadn't left a note or any indication of where she'd gone. She'd considered sending Virgil, the livery owner, out to the ranch with word for Ross because she hadn't wanted him to worry either. But she hadn't wanted to take any chances that Sadie or Axe or the lawyer might be watching for her or even waiting in hiding.

The store owner bent his head and scanned the message. "This one is from... Lenora."

Lenora? A shiver of trepidation raced up Genevieve's spine.

She took the note and silently read the message written in the proprietor's neat penmanship: "If you return home at once, we will not prosecute Ryder Oakley for his crimes."

Crimes? Ryder had done nothing wrong.

Yet, even though he hadn't, Lenora would figure out a way to accuse him of something, just as she had with Prescott and Mr. Price. Then he would be ruined. Even if he wasn't ruined, he would certainly have a much more difficult time being able to keep Boone, even with the best lawyer coming to his defense and proving what a good father he was.

No, she absolutely couldn't let Lenora hurt Ryder or Boone. But how could she protect them when Lenora had control over her now just as she always had? And she still wasn't strong enough or smart enough to break free.

"I am ready to leave now." She forced a smile for the store proprietor. "If you would ask Virgil to accompany me back to the ranch, I would appreciate that very much."

The store owner shifted his cigar to the opposite side of his mouth. "Of course, ma'am."

She paid him what she'd originally offered and then another twenty-dollar bill, knowing she wouldn't have need of the cash beyond a day or two, when the bodyguards would arrive for her. With only a few things in her room to collect, she started across the street to the town's only hotel, hunching over Boone to protect him from the rain.

All she could think about was that first day in Frisco when she'd stepped off the stagecoach and how free she'd felt. For once in her life, she'd done something alone, without servants, without drivers, without solicitors, and without her papa or Lenora. She'd made it to the West, and she'd been so proud of herself for her accomplishment.

But what had she really accomplished after all? She hadn't outsmarted Lenora. In fact, she'd only lasted a month before Lenora had tracked her down. And she'd only lasted a month of being independent and surviving on her own.

The truth was, she'd made a mess of things for Ryder by coming. She would confuse him and probably hurt him once she told him the truth about her identity—and she intended to do so just as soon as he returned home tonight. She'd also confuse poor little Boone once she was gone.

To make matters worse, she'd cause more rumors for Ryder over another failed marriage. Because ultimately, that's how the community would view the situation. They'd think she'd left him... the same way Sadie had left him.

"Oh dear," she whispered as she stepped around a puddle and leaped onto the lone wooden stair of the hotel. "I never meant for this to happen."

Of course she hadn't. She could almost hear Lenora's patronizing tone telling her that she was young and na?ve and needed someone directing her so that she didn't get herself into trouble.

Genevieve pushed open the hotel door and hurried out of the rain. She swiped off her wet hat and brushed the loose strands of damp hair from her face, then froze as she took in the man sitting in a parlor that consisted of a few mismatched stuffed chairs and a round pedestal table off to one side, where men had been playing cards and drinking last night.

The fellow currently in the room was wearing a long coat, but he'd taken off his coonskin cap and braced it on his knee. His long brown hair was pulled back in a leather strap but was still messy. His brown eyes were already watching her, as if he'd seen her approach from the street.

"Tanner?"

He rose from his chair and nodded at her solemnly.

Her heart pumped an extra beat of anticipation in the hope of seeing Ryder somewhere, but another glance around the room didn't make him appear.

As she returned her gaze to Tanner and his grave expression, her heart stopped altogether. And suddenly she knew. This wasn't a pleasant social call. This was a serious meeting—one that wouldn't go well for her.

"I tracked you here." Tanner offered the explanation quietly, even as his gaze darted up the stairway toward the second floor.

"I see." But how and why?

She glanced out the window to the closest hitching post, and sure enough, Ryder's horse was tied up. In her haste to get out of the rain, she'd missed seeing it.

Tanner's eyes seemed to warn her. "Ryder's upstairs in your room waiting to speak with you."

Ryder had to be terribly angry with her for leaving without a word and forcing him to have to track her down.

She couldn't keep her shoulders from slumping as she reached the stairway railing.

"Wait."

She halted and cast Tanner a tentative look, wanting him to reassure her that everything would be all right.

But tension drew a line between his brows. "He wanted me to hold the baby for him."

Hold Boone? Why? She cradled the baby in the sling protectively for only a moment, then nodded. "Of course." It would be easier to have a conversation with Ryder if Boone wasn't distracting or interrupting them.

She slipped the sling over her shoulder and handed the baby to Tanner. Then she started up the steps, each one creaking loudly as if to announce her arrival.

There were only four private rooms, and she'd requested the largest of the four. Last night she hadn't been able to resist ordering a steaming hot bath in a large tub. It was the first she'd had like it since leaving home, and she'd soaked in the water for at least an hour while Boone napped.

Now, as she made her way down the hallway that had a worn runner muting her steps, her heart alternated between desire and dread. She couldn't deny that she'd missed Ryder, but she also had to disclose everything. And she loathed that in doing so, she would cause him more problems.

But hopefully, when she told him about the lawyer who was coming as well as the housekeeper that she'd soon arrange for him, he wouldn't be as upset at her.

At the door, she hesitated. She combed back her damp hair, then plucked at her bodice, hoping it wasn't too revealing now that it was wet.

Finally, drawing in a breath, she swung the door open and stepped inside.

With his overpowering rugged brawn, Ryder stood in front of the window overlooking Main Street, staring out. Like Tanner, he'd probably seen her crossing from the mercantile a moment ago. If so, what was he thinking?

She closed the door and waited for him to turn, to level his angry eyes upon her the same way he had on Tanner that night at his family's when they'd fought.

He didn't turn. But the muscle in his neck flexed.

"I owe you an apology, Ryder."

"You do?" He spun, and sure enough the anger was there, blazing in his eyes. "For what?"

"For leaving and not letting anyone know where I went. I was trying to keep Boone safe, but I should have figured out a way to send word to Ross regarding my intentions."

Ryder wore an oiled cloak that hung open to reveal his usual denim trousers and flannel shirt underneath. His tan Stetson was wet, and the brim was drooping, but he kept it on, as though he wasn't planning on staying long.

"And what exactly are your intentions, Genevieve?" He spoke her name with more emphasis than normal.

"I wanted to keep Sadie from finding Boone." She didn't care that her voice held a note of desperation—although she wasn't sure why she was feeling desperate, only that she knew something was wrong, and she wanted to make it right. "You have to believe me."

"And why should I believe anything you say?"

Her pulse slowed. Had he already figured out her identity? Was that why he was angry?

His gaze held hers for another long moment before he turned and stared out the window again. His back was stiff, his shoulders rigid, and his hands fisted.

Yes, he must have discovered who she really was. Maybe he'd seen a newspaper article. Or perhaps someone had told him. Maybe Tanner?

It didn't really matter how he'd found out. All that mattered was making him understand she hadn't meant for things to work out this way.

But what had she expected? To deceive him forever and get away with it?

She shook her head, loathing herself in this moment for her stupidity. Yes, she certainly had been as na?ve as Lenora accused her of being, and possibly more so. She never should have made plans on her own, shouldn't have presumed she could be independent.

She crossed to him so that she was standing beside him. "I'm sorry, Ryder," she whispered. "So sorry."

His posture radiated his hurt—hurt she'd caused because of her deceitfulness and thoughtlessness and her callousness. She'd really only been thinking about her own situation when she'd made the plans, and she hadn't given enough consideration to what Ryder and Boone needed.

She waited for him to turn and tell her how awful she was, but he didn't move.

"Please talk to me."

His jaw flexed again.

Did he hate her now?

Heat spread through the backs of her eyes. "Please?"

Slowly, he turned until he was facing her. His expression was dark and stormy... but his eyes probed hers, pleading with her to give him some hope or a logical explanation for what she'd done.

But truly, she'd been selfish and had taken the easy way out of her difficulties by fleeing instead of staying and learning to be strong in the face of Lenora's control. There was no excuse for her selfishness and no way she could explain it away.

At her silence, his eyes began to narrow.

"Wait." She lifted both hands and cupped his cheeks.

He didn't speak, but at least he didn't attempt to break the contact.

"I love you, Ryder." The words spilled out before she could stop them. But once spoken, she knew it was the truth and the only thing she could say.