Love In An Elevator


Love In The Elevator

Love In The Elevator


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The elevator doors opened at the penthouse suite. Morgan looked out of place in his white shirt and black suit, but he wore them well as did his wife, who seemed to have taken a shine to the new fashion. She wore her hair up in curls with pearls at each earlobe.

Her dress was red, which made him think of blood for some reason, though it probably had something to do with what happened today. They stood by the large picture window that overlooked the city.

“There is one thing about the elevator,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be thinking we’re foolish.”

He gave her a puzzled look because they hadn’t even gone outside yet. He knew exactly what she meant. What were people going to think when they saw them?

“What?”

“We’ve never been alone together before. I’m afraid you won’t want to kiss me or hug me in public.”

“That’s not true. You know me better than that.”

She smiled and nodded slowly, almost shyly, then took his hands. “You’re right. It would be nice if we could be seen holding hands in public someday soon.”

They stepped into the hallway, where a valet was standing next to their car. He opened the door for them, but instead of driving away, he closed the door and walked back inside the lobby.

Morgan felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach when the chauffeur turned around and started walking toward them.

His wife looked at him questioningly. He shrugged his shoulders and pointed behind her. She followed his gaze to see what he was pointing to—the elevator doors opening, revealing a young man carrying two glasses of champagne on a silver tray.

“Oh no,” she whispered as she realized what the man intended to do.

The young man handed one glass to his mistress and held the other out to Morgan. His eyes lit up with anticipation as Morgan accepted the drink. The woman put her hand under his chin and turned his head so she could get a good view of his face.

“Now remember, no talking until after dinner,” she said to him. Then she kissed him on the cheek and left him with his glass in hand, feeling like an idiot for having let himself be led into such a ridiculous situation. She watched him take a sip and turn to face her. “It wasn’t easy finding someone to come here tonight. We had to pay quite a price to convince him.”

Her words brought back memories of how she paid off one of his bodyguards, making sure no one got involved. It was hard work to keep things hidden from the press; he understood why it was done now, but he didn’t appreciate the need for secrecy. That’s just one more thing that makes our marriage seem strange to others.

“You are very beautiful tonight,” he told her.

“Thank you.” She reached over and brushed his hair aside, giving him a kiss that caused his pulse to quicken. “I hope we can go out together sometimes soon.”

“We will.” He hoped to God there would be many reasons to do so, but he couldn’t make any promises. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

After taking another sip of his drink, the young man carried the empty glass away and came back moments later with two more.

“This is your night, so relax and enjoy it,” the valet said. “Just one word of caution—don’t try anything too daring in front of anyone. People might take offense.”

“Thanks,” Morgan replied politely and watched as the man returned to his position by the elevator doors. “How long are we supposed to sit here?”

His wife looked at her watch. “Until midnight. I thought we’d spend most of the day in bed, then take a leisurely drive in the country.”

That sounded wonderful, but he also wanted to check on the ranch, make sure everything was fine and that none of his men had tried anything stupid while he was in town. He glanced down at his pocket watch and found it had stopped working this morning.

“I have to go home for a few hours,” he told her. “Can you wait until after dark?”

“Of course.”

She took his arm as they walked toward the door. “I don’t want you going out without me.”

He didn’t argue with that.

***

A FEW HOURS OF R&R AT THE MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY WAS JUST WHAT JONATHAN WOULD HAVE GONE FOR IF HE’D HAD A CHOICE. It was still cool enough to feel refreshing after being inside the office all day, though it was warmer in the mountains. But Jonathan did wish he was riding with John instead of being cooped up in a cabin alone.

John had left a note that they were going to meet at the saloon in an hour, but Jonathan wasn’t sure if he should trust what he read in that note. They were both cowboys after all. Maybe that was part of their code, that when in doubt, leave a message or send a coded signal rather than risk being heard talking to each other.

Still, he couldn’t afford to miss this chance to talk with John because if it wasn’t for him, Morgan would be dead, along with his daughter. If he could find a way to get rid of those guns and get himself out of town before dawn, it was possible Morgan would escape unscathed. But John was the only person who could help him do it.

While riding across the pasture to a small pond where he intended to fish for trout, he saw a couple of horses tied to a fence. As he rode closer, he recognized the brown one belonging to John. There was a white horse tied nearby, so Jonathan knew he hadn’t left yet. That was just as well since he hadn’t been able to decide whether he should go in or not.

As he approached the pond, he noticed a red truck parked near a picnic table that sat on a short rise. When he dismounted, he stepped carefully around the rusted remains of an old automobile that looked like it had been abandoned for years. The ground was soft underfoot, so he chose his path wisely.

Once he was within sight of the saloon, he saw two men walking down the street toward him, both of them carrying guns and wearing hats pulled low over their faces. He drew back and turned, but his foot slipped in the mud, causing him to fall against a tree.

“Who’s that?” one of the gunmen asked.

Jonathon jumped to his feet and faced them. “Morgan!” He ran to the edge of the woods and hid behind the thick foliage as he watched the men ride into town. He wondered where John was and why he hadn’t followed the gunmen.

The sheriff called after them. “Don’t come back unless you have money. This time, we won’t let you off so easily.”

Jonathan waited until the men disappeared from view, then went back to the pond to catch his lunch. While he stood in the middle of the water, a sudden movement caught his eye and he ducked as he watched a large bird fly across the sky and land on one of the trees nearby. As he watched, another one landed beside it and they began feeding on the fallen fruit.

He continued fishing as if he hadn’t seen the birds and hoped they weren’t hungry enough to attack a human being. It wouldn’t have surprised him if someone had poisoned this place to kill Morgan. The saloon was just as bad, with signs posted everywhere telling customers to keep out of certain areas and even warning them about poisonous snakes.

“What are you doing here?” John asked as he entered the saloon shortly after sundown.

When they were alone together in the shadows of the big front room, Jonathan told him everything that had happened during his trip home. Then he went on to explain why the gunsmith had killed himself and how the guns could have caused the explosion.

“You’re going to have to tell everyone about this if you want to stop anyone else from dying.”

“And I will,” Jonathan promised as he looked around at the people gathered inside the saloon. They were mostly cowhands, most of whom were drinking beers, some playing cards and others eating. “But there’s something else I need your help with right now. You know Morgan is planning to rob this saloon tonight?”

John nodded. “He told me yesterday he plans to start with you.”

“That’s why I’m here — to get the guns away from him so that he can’t hurt any more people.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible. He’s a master of getting the drop on his mark, which means I may have to try to disarm him while he has a weapon pointed at my face.”

“I’ll stay outside the saloon until you give me the signal. Once you’ve taken care of Morgan, come in and take control of the situation. Then I’ll help you round up the rest of the gunmen.”

They walked out onto the street and John ordered everyone to clear out, including the sheriff who was standing guard at the entrance. He didn’t know what he’d do if John tried to arrest him.

A few minutes later, Morgan rode in, along with his gunmen, and stopped in front of the sheriff. The two men exchanged glances for a moment; then Morgan raised his hand and waved to his gang, instructing them to take their seats. John took a deep breath and stepped out to meet Morgan in front of the saloon doors. He put his hands behind his back and stood straight.

“Why aren’t you in jail?” Morgan said with contempt when John ignored his request to step aside and let him pass.

“If I let you through those doors, I might as well throw the key away,” the sheriff replied as he kept his gun trained on Morgan. “I have no idea what kind of trouble you’re planning, but it certainly isn’t here. You should leave town before you cause any more trouble.”

“We’re all ready to rob this joint,” Morgan shouted. “Come out here, Johnny boy! Take your best shot — you’re not fast enough to hit me!” He laughed as his gunmen chuckled, too. “I’ll bet you wish you’d never left the ranch, huh? What’s the matter? Too afraid to show your face in public again?”

“It seems to me there’s been more trouble since you’ve been back than before,” John answered. He couldn’t believe he was still talking to him. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or disappointed. “This is an isolated area and you should know better than to stir things up here.”

Morgan laughed as he turned his horse around to return to the saloon. One of his men stayed behind with the sheriff; the other two joined Morgan at the door, waiting impatiently. After a few moments, the men started to push in past the sheriff. John held them back with a gesture of his hand.

“I warned you about the poisonous snakes. There was a poisonous snake near where the dead woman died.”

Morgan glared at him. “Did she die of natural causes?” he demanded sarcastically as his men laughed. “I hope not, because I haven’t yet found her killer. If you find one, you’re welcome to tell him you saw me coming in here today.”

“I did see you. I thought you’d be locked up by now.”

“Oh, you did? Did you really?” Morgan grinned. “Tell that to the judge next time you talk to him.”

The laughter sounded louder as Morgan’s thugs pushed against the sheriff, forcing him to retreat toward the saloon doors. John didn’t move. He waited until Morgan and his men had entered and closed the doors, then went inside and locked them securely from the inside.

The bartender had already disappeared into a back room, leaving only a single gunman at the bar serving drinks. The man turned around slowly, looking suspicious as he took in the faces of those gathered inside. Most of them were cowboys who hadn’t seen John in years.

They weren’t used to seeing the sheriff wearing a gun instead of a badge. And he was standing in front of the bar with a gun aimed at Morgan’s back as though he planned to shoot the criminal if he dared come out of that saloon again.

“Get out of the way and go home, Sheriff. This place is shut down until further notice. I want to hear no more complaints from you or anyone else about Morgan.” The sheriff’s voice carried a warning tone, making it plain what would happen to any of them who stirred up trouble after Morgan and his men left town. “Now get out of my sight.”

The gunman moved quickly to open the saloon doors for Morgan and his gunmen, but John blocked him with his gun barrel, stopping him from entering.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. You’re staying right here.”

“Sheriff, we’ve come here to settle the score, and I intend to do that — one way or another.”

John’s finger tightened over the trigger. The sheriff was right. Morgan was dangerous, and it would be a terrible mistake to try to stop him. He knew Morgan well, and he knew the man was capable of anything. But even though he could understand the sheriff’s desire to protect himself and his people, he didn’t think it was necessary to kill him.

His gaze fell on the young woman, lying unconscious on the floor behind Morgan. She wasn’t much older than Susan. What would happen to her when Morgan returned to San Francisco? Would she be able to handle his moods and temper as he had done so many times while living under his roof?

He remembered how she’d looked like a child when she had first come to live with them. Her innocence fascinated him, but her spirit had quickly grown beyond his comprehension. No one was more surprised than he was by Susan’s transformation.

Now she stood beside him in full control of herself and her actions. Even Morgan couldn’t hurt her anymore. It seemed as if something inside her had broken free, freeing her to take care of her own problems without having to rely on others to solve them. He admired that in her. She could stand up to anyone.

Susan. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon her beautiful features, which reminded him of a wildflower in the desert. Her hair was long and golden as the sun glistened through its light waves, almost white against her ivory skin. As his eyes swept over her, their gaze met; and the look in hers told him she understood exactly what he was thinking. A soft smile formed as she raised a hand and touched his cheek gently.

The sheriff’s attention returned to the gunman before him. “Don’t bother,” he said quietly. “You’ve made your point; I’ll leave with you. Just tell me where we can find Morgan.”

“There’s a cabin west of here that belongs to one of Morgan’s friends. You can’t miss it.”

“Where’s it located?”

“Just outside town.”

A few minutes later, Morgan and his gunmen rode away from town. John followed in his buggy until they were out of town. At that point, he decided it was best if he didn’t know exactly where Morgan was staying. That might lead to complications. It was bad enough that he had to face Morgan again. There was no reason for anyone else to get involved unless he wanted them to be.

Morgan had no intention of leaving San Francisco or the ranch for an indefinite amount of time. He wasn’t going to spend any more nights in jail waiting to learn whether John would let him walk away without being charged with murder.

If he was lucky, maybe John would decide there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him of killing Mrs. O’Malley. Or perhaps he would be found innocent because the real killer would never come forward and admit he’d committed such a heinous act.

It was possible he would have to face John once more someday, and he had no doubt that John’s wife wouldn’t allow him to return if he was still wearing handcuffs. In fact, he suspected she would probably kill him if she ever saw him again. So why did he keep coming back? Was it just because he was afraid to stay away from this woman who could make him forget all the rules?

He glanced down at the gun in his holster as if it could answer that question. When had it happened? The moment he’d seen her standing in front of the hotel room door, his heart had stopped beating and he knew everything had changed between them.

She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. The thought of taking her body into his arms, feeling her warm flesh pressed against him, made him tremble with excitement. He knew that he shouldn’t pursue anything further since he was married, but the need inside him refused to go away.

What he needed was to escape the past and live his life again, but Susan was part of his history now, and that was impossible. She wasn’t like other women. Her innocence fascinated him; her spirit intrigued him. He wanted to protect her, but it was obvious she had no desire to be protected.

She was determined to stand strong in spite of what others expected of her. She was a force to be reckoned with—like his wife in some ways. And yet he couldn’t resist her. Not even after she had slapped him across the face. He loved every bit of her stubbornness and strength.

Susan had been watching the man leave town. Why had he left San Francisco with the gunmen instead of staying to face the sheriff? She turned to find the young girl, Molly, in her mother’s arms. They were sitting on a wagon bed near the saloon entrance. Molly appeared as small and frail as she had before. Susan knelt beside her and brushed the hair out of her face. The girl reached for her fingers and held them tight.

Susan felt the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about your mother.”

Molly stared at her for a while longer, then asked, “Will you help us?”

Susan shook her head slowly. “No. You’re better off alone right now.”

“Why not? We need someone to take care of us now, and your husband doesn’t seem interested.”

She hadn’t meant to say that last part, but she couldn’t deny it anymore. “Your father is gone, Molly. All you have left is each other.”

“We won’t be lonely much longer,” she said firmly. “My uncle will take good care of us.”

That sounded promising to Susan. “Is your uncle a nice man?”

“He has to be because my mother says he saved her from dying by marrying her.”

“Did your mother tell you how she met your uncle?”

“Yes, she told me. She said he was the nicest man in all the world until he got drunk one night and killed two men in a saloon. Then he disappeared.”

The thought of Morgan disappearing forever made Susan sad. She didn’t think she could live without him. She remembered how he kissed her cheek when he first arrived in San Francisco, and that seemed like only yesterday. “If your uncle is nice, I’ll try to visit you sometimes. Just remember you must never mention my name to anyone.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

John pulled up alongside Morgan’s buggy and waved for him to stop. As soon as they were close enough, he asked, “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere,” Morgan answered shortly.

A look of anger crossed John’s features. “You can’t go running off to God knows where without telling anyone.”

“Who do you mean?”

“Mrs. O’Malley. Did she send you on an errand? Did she say anything about it?”

“Nothing,” he lied. But it was obvious the sheriff had suspicions.

John nodded slowly. “Well, you better hurry along before you get yourself into trouble.” He started walking away toward the jailhouse.

Morgan hesitated for a moment, but he was already committed to leaving town, so he climbed back into the buggy and drove slowly away.

The End

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