Iris laughed delightedly. "You listen to me, young woman. If he were mine, if I had this chance, I would hang on for dear life. I would fight like a tiger. If you've any sense, and if you do love him, you'll do the same."
"But, Iris, I can't force him to stay with me!"
"Then sleep with your pride. Lie awake night after night, and remember that you have the cold glory of your pride to lie with you instead of the warmth of the man you love."
Shannon fell silent. They rode awhile longer, then Iris suggested they stop for lunch.
They found a brook, and as they dangled their feet in it, Shannon entertained Ms with stories about growing up with Kristin and Matthew.
"You'd like my brother," she said impulsively.
Iris sniffed. "A Yankee."
"I'm a Yankee, remember? And you're living in Kansas. Yankee territory."
"No. The whole country is Yankee territory now," Iris said. "And I'm a working girl. Confederate currency doesn't put much food on the table these days."
They left soon after.
They didn't pass a single soul on the road. Close to sunset, they came to a rise overlooking a valley. Shannon climbed down from the buckboard to look down at the town of Sparks.
It was obviously thriving. There were rows of new houses, and more rows of businesses. Ranches spread out behind the town, and the fields were green and yellow and rich beneath the sun. In the distance, she could see railroad tracks, and a big station painted red. Iris told her that the town was a major junction for the stagecoaches, too.
She came back to the buckboard and looked at Iris. "It's a big place," she murmured uneasily. "A very big place. And Hayden Fitz owns it all now?"
Iris nodded gravely. "He owns most of the land. And he owns two of the stagecoach lines. And the saloon and the barbershop. And the sheriff and the deputies. Come on. Climb back in." She pointed down the valley to a large house surrounded by a stable and barns. It was a fair distance from the town. "Cindy's place."
"Cindy's place," Shannon echoed. She shrugged, and a smile curved her lips. "Let's go."
In another thirty minutes they reached the house on the plain.
It was a beautiful, elegant place with cupolas and gables, numerous stained-glass windows, and even a swing on the porch. It looked like the home of a prosperous family.
But when Iris reined in, the front door opened and a woman burst out, running down the stairs and dispelling any vision of family life.
She was clad in high heels and stockings and garters and little else but a short pink robe. She had midnight-black hair and a gamine face, and it wasn't until she was almost at the buckboard that Shannon realized that she was not a young girl at all but a woman of nearly fifty. She was beautiful still, and outrageous in her dress, and when she laughed, the sound of her laughter was husky and appealing.
"Iris! You did make it back. And this must be Malachi's blushing little bride."
"I'm not little," Shannon protested, hopping down from the buckboard. She extended a hand to Cindy. She might be slim, but she was taller than Cindy by a good inch or two.
"I stand corrected," the woman said. "Come on down, Iris. Do come in before someone notices that Mrs. Slater here is a newcomer."
"You're right. Let's go in," Iris said.
They hurried up the steps to the house and came into a very elegant foyer. Shannon could hear laughter and the sounds of glasses clinking. Cindy cast her head to the right "That's the gaming room, Mrs. Slater. I don't imagine you'll want to wander in there. And there—" She pointed to the left. "That's the bar. Don't wander in there, either. Not that you're not welcome—the men just might get the wrong idea about you, and I don't want to have to answer to Malachi. Come on, and I'll show you to your room. Then I'll show you the kitchen. You're perfectly safe there. It's Jeremiah's domain, and no male dares tread there."
Cindy started to lead them up a flight of stairs. Shannon caught her arm, stopping her.
"Excuse me, but where is Malachi?"
"He's, er, he's out at the moment," Cindy said. "Come on now, I've got to get you settled—"
Shannon caught her arm again. "I'm sorry, but he's out where? Is Cole here? Has Jamie slipped in yet?"
"Cole is just fine, and Jamie looks as good as gold," Cindy said.
She came to the second-floor landing and hurried down the hall, pushing open a door. "It's one of the nicest rooms in the house. See the little window seat? I think that you'll be very comfortable in here, Mrs. Slater."
Shannon stood in the center of the room. It was a beautiful room with a large bed, a marble mantel, chairs, and the promised window seat. It was missing one thing. Her husband.
"Thank you for the room, and for your help and hospitality, for myself, my husband and my brothers-in-law. And excuse me for being persistent, but where is my husband, please?"
Cindy looked uneasily from Iris to Shannon.
"He's…"
"You might as well answer her," Iris advised. "She won't give up asking you."
"I won't," Shannon said.
"He's holding up a train."
"What?" Shannon gasped in astonishment.
"Wait a minute, I said that badly, didn't I?"
"Is there a good way to announce to his wife that a man is holding up a train?" Iris demanded.
"Well, he isn't really holding it up—"
"What are you saying!" Shannon demanded.
Cindy sighed and walked over to where a pretty little round cherry-wood side table held brandy and snifters. There were only two snifters—the room was planned for a party of two, and no more.
"We'll share," Cindy told Iris, and she drank a glass of brandy before pouring out two more and handing one glass to Shannon and the other to Iris.
"Cindy, explain about Malachi," Shannon insisted.
"All right. All right. Kristin is being held in the Hayden house. They've got bars on the windows, and at least twenty guards in and around the house. There was no way for the three men to break in and carry her away." She hesitated. "The boys just might have some friends around here, but we don't really know that yet. A lot of decent folk aren't pleased
that Hayden Fitz is holding a lady, no matter what legal shenanigans he tries to pull. Anyway, Jamie heard tell that some bushwhackers on the loose were planning to hold up the train south. And there's a Federal judge on that train. They're going to seize the train from the bushwhackers and then try to explain the whole story to the judge."
"Oh, those fools!" Shannon cried. "They're going to get themselves killed."
Iris slipped an arm around her. "Honey, come on! They aren't fools. They know what they're about."
"If the bushwhackers don't shoot them, the judge will!"
"Well," Cindy said dryly, "you can be sure of one thing."
"What's that?"
"If Cole Slater is killed, Hayden Fitz won't need your sister any more. He'll let her go."
"I don't know," Iris murmured miserably, staring at her glass. "Knowing the perversions of Hayden Fitz, I imagine—"
"Iris!" Cindy said.
Iris quickly looked at Shannon and flushed. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I really am…"
"It's all right, Iris. You don't need to hide the truth from me," Shannon said. She sank down on the bed. "Oh, God!" she murmured desperately. "He said that we'd be together tonight. He said that we'd be back together."
Iris and Cindy exchanged looks over her head. Shannon leaped up suddenly. "Iris, I can't just sit. here. Let's go into town."
"What?"
"Iris, you can get in to see Kristin, can't you? I would feel so much better if you saw her."
"Shannon, I don't know—"
"Iris, I can't just sit here. What if—" She hesitated, feeling her heart thunder hard against her chest "What if Cole and Malachi don't make it? Iris, we have to discover some other way!"
"Malachi would hang me if—"