Chapter 19
A sick fear coiled in the pit of Rose’s stomach as she hastened along the third-floor hallway of the Egyptian Hotel and Saloon. She knocked on the door of suite 310, fighting the urge to ball her fists and pound. Mason opened the door. Dressed in a morning coat and silk cravat, he lifted his eyebrows in phony surprise. “Well, well, look who’s here. Do come in, Rose. Is something wrong? You don’t look your usual cheerful self.”
She ignored his mockery and stepped inside. Her eyes darted around what she could see of his suite of rooms, but no sign of Lucy. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”
He remained unperturbed and smiled pleasantly, as if blind to her distress. He graciously waved toward a chair. “Do sit down. If you’re looking for your daughter, don’t bother. She’s not here.”
She remained standing. She’d heard the edge of hysteria in her voice and forced herself to speak calmly as she could. “Then where is she? I know you took her.”
“You won’t sit down? Are you sure? I could order tea and we could have a good chat.”
He was toying with her, deliberately trying to enrage her, but she must keep her wits about her. “Just tell me where she is. I’ll go get her right now, and nothing more need be said.”
His excuse of a smile disappeared. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? Lucy is in safe hands. She—”
“Where?” She could contain herself no longer. “What have you done with her? How do I know she’s all right? How do I know—?”
“She’s fine, Rose. No need for hysterics. I assume you want me to return her?”
What a cruel, spiteful question. How she’d love to lash back with a scathing reply, but for now she was in his hands and must listen to whatever rubbish he chose to say. “How could you even ask such a question?”
By now, he’d lost the last semblance of his feigned amiability and was gazing at her with cold, hard eyes. “Before we go any further, I want you to understand why by all rights the River Queen belongs to me.”
“Do go on.”
Mason’s pent-up anger began to reveal itself as he started nervously pacing the floor. “I had my eye on the River Queen for years. Kept waiting for the owner to sell, and when he did”—he was spitting his words out—“your husband stole it out from under me.”
“That’s not what I heard. Emmet bought it fair and square. It wasn’t his fault you were out of town.”
Mason shrugged with indifference. “And then, when Emmet died—”
“When you deliberately murdered him in cold blood.”
“So Jake’s been talking?” With a sneer, he waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Such an accusation will get you nowhere. When Emmet died and Ben was ready to sell, you had the gall to claim the River Queen was yours. You, a mere woman, thought you could thwart me. It was all I could do…”
He came close to choking on his words, as if the very thought of her owning his precious hotel was too much to abide. “Tomorrow at ten o’clock, we will meet in Mr. Field’s office, where you will sign over the River Queen to me. You will be pleased and happy that I have agreed to buy the hotel. You did your best but found it a great burden, far too much for a woman, and will be greatly relieved to be rid of it. You can forget my offer of forty-two thousand. You’ll be more than happy to receive what I offered the first time.”
The gall of the man! “You’ve kidnapped my daughter, and that’s against the law. I should go straight to the sheriff.”
“Joe Clark? I played poker with him last night. If you go, give him my regards.”
She frantically searched for a rational argument—a threat—anything to make Mason listen to reason, but nothing came to mind. He had the upper hand, and there was nothing she could do about it, not for now anyway. “If I sell you the River Queen, how do I know I’ll get my daughter back?”
“You don’t know, but what choice do you have?” He feigned a look of sympathy. “Poor Rose, it didn’t have to be this way, you know. I wanted to marry you. You could have lived in luxury the rest of your life. Been the mistress of that fine mansion I’m building. Enjoyed the prestige of being the wife of one of Sacramento’s esteemed civic leaders. But instead…” He shrugged sadly. “An Australian? I thought you had better taste than that.”
She ignored his insult. Lucy was all that mattered. “Please don’t hurt her.”
“I’m not a cruel man and resent your implying that I am. I would never hurt Lucy. Actually, it’s not necessary. All you need to know is she’s not close by so don’t waste your time searching. This is a big country. She could easily disappear and live the rest of her life in a place where you’d never find her.”
She clenched her fists. “Lucy had better be all right. If you’ve hurt her, I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what?”
His mocking attitude made her humiliatingly conscious of how helpless she was. “All right, Mason, I’ll be there. You give me no choice.”
He smiled pleasantly. “Tomorrow. Ten o’clock sharp in Mr. Field’s office. I trust you won’t forget.”
Words failed her. She could not remain in his presence another moment and fled from his room.
As she drove the buggy back to her hotel, she never felt so alone. She had no one to lean on, and it was all her own doing, the price she had to pay for being an independent woman. When she got back to the hotel, most likely she’d cry on Drucilla’s shoulder and get lots of sympathy, but what could Drucilla do? She couldn’t stand up to Mason Talbot. Neither could Ben. Neither could anyone except…
Deke.
The Australian was the only person in the world who would fight her battles, only she’d lost him. Now she had too much pride to ask, especially when he would probably wish her well but turn her down.
A raindrop fell on her forehead, then another. They’d had enough rain to last the whole season and then some. Surely it wouldn’t last.
* * * *
The rain never stopped. Rose lay awake most of the night, listening to the pounding of a constant deluge. Where was Lucy? Who, if anyone, was taking care of her? Was she sheltered and warm? Was she cold, wet, and frightened? Despite her agonized questions, she must have finally drifted off to sleep because toward morning, she was jolted awake by a frantic pounding on her door. She sprang out of bed, threw on her robe, and opened the door to find Jake, wide-eyed with excitement, standing in the hallway. “Come quick,” he said. “We’re about to flood.”
She threw on her clothes, ran a comb through her hair, and rushed downstairs to find the gambling tables deserted. No one stood at the bar. Through the swinging doors, she saw a crowd gathering along the boardwalk. When she joined them, an astounding sight awaited her. The street had transformed from a busy thoroughfare jammed with horses, mules, wagons, and carriages, to a slow-moving river occupied only by a few small boats. Jake came up beside her, dubiously shaking his head. “We’re lucky we’re up pretty high off the street, but I dunno, Mrs. Peterson. You can see the water’s about to flood over the boardwalk. I’ve sent for sandbags. All we can do is stack ‘em up and hope for the best. Trouble is, they won’t work if the water keeps rising.”
She fought off a momentary panic. She must remember she owned the place and couldn’t be acting like some frightened female desperate for guidance. She was the one in charge, the one to make decisions. “You’ve lived around here for years, Jake. What do you think? Will the water keep rising?”
“Probably. You know how much rain we’ve had. The ground’s soaked through. Every gulch, ravine, creek, and river is full to overflowing, and when that happens, the water has no place else to go but to flood the city. I’ve seen it happen before. A few years back, the American and Sacramento Rivers both overflowed their banks and pretty much wiped out the whole town.”
“What about us?”
“Every hotel along the river could be flooded. Some are built so flimsy they’ll likely collapse. Some will stand, and that includes the River Queen. She’s built of brick, so it isn’t likely the walls will cave in, but if that water gets through the door, it’ll do a lot of damage.” Jake’s expression turned grim. “I’ll get the men started on the sandbags.”
Rose turned away and headed back inside, her mind spinning with all she had to do. The guests on the second floor needed to be warned. The restaurant! Where was Gaston? They could start stacking chairs on the tables, everything high up as it could go. She must find someone to take care of the bar. It had looked deserted. Not a good idea leaving all that expensive liquor lying about with no one to keep an eye on it.
Gaston raced by, Gus and Cecil the bartender close behind. He looked concerned but not panicked. “Don’t worry, madame,” he called. “If we can save the restaurant, we will.”
Drucilla followed after. Seeing Rose, she slowed down. “I’m going to help Gaston. I’m worried about the family, but there’s no way to get home.”
“They’ll be all right.” She tried to sound optimistic. “Ben will know what to do.” But would he? The farm lay close to the rising river. Here was a new concern, piled atop all the others. So much to worry about she hardly knew where to start.
She had reached the staircase when she came to a sudden stop and pressed her hand to her mouth. Dear God. In all the excitement, she hadn’t forgotten Lucy for a moment. Flood or no flood, her little girl still came first, and at ten o’clock she was supposed to be in Mr. Field’s office signing away the hotel. But what was she thinking? His office would be flooded, same as here. There wasn’t a chance in the world the prudent solicitor would be sitting at his desk waiting for her to arrive. So what would Mason do now? Would he give her another chance, or was her little girl gone forever? What should she do? Her knees started to buckle. With a moan of distress, she tried to force herself to keep going but wasn’t sure she could. No one to help her. Never had she felt so desolate and alone.
“Rose?”
His voice came from behind her. She turned and looked into the depths of two warm grey eyes. “Hello, Deke.”
His mouth curved into that crooked little grin. “Looks like you could use some help.”