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A Mail-Order Destiny Page 4


  Her lips quirked as if she were amused he thought she'd do anything but. In truth, he didn't. "All right. It'll be easier to be frank. I know you want Abby to return east, but she has no intention nor desire to do so. She's worried you'll bully her to get your way, and I want you to know I'm not going to let that happen. As long as she wants to stay, I will help her."

  "What if she changes her mind and wants to leave with me?"

  "Then I'll help her do that," she said, matter-of-factly. "The point is, I'm going to do whatever will make her happy. I don't care how rich or powerful you are, and I wanted you to know you can't intimidate me."

  He tried to hide his smile. "Good to know."

  "Also," she continued, ignoring him. "I've offered Abby a place in my home. She can stay as long as she needs. She was also concerned about funds, and while I hope you don't cut her off financially, she'll be working for me, so she isn't dependent on you. So, you see, you really have no power to sway her."

  He steepled his fingers, eyeing her. Willow was an opponent. Intelligent, brave, and cunning. He'd respected her before, when she'd stood up to him, but her speech just now raised his respect several more notches. She was challenging him, and while such things would normally annoy him in the past, he had to admit he was actually enjoying it.

  "First, I want to thank you for taking care of my sister." She jerked as if surprised by his praise. "Mrs. Clayton is an odious woman, and while I don't have the particulars, I know you helped Abigail in a difficult situation. I'm also grateful she's made a friend who is willing to stand up for her. Such people, true friendships, are rare in our world. That being said—" she visibly tensed at his words "—I still intend for Abigail to come home. I'm not planning to leave without her. My business can run without me for some time, and now that I've purchased the hotel, I'll have more than enough to keep me busy and wait her out. It's charming here, but I don't think it's what she really wants."

  She shook her head slowly. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

  "Regardless, it's what I believe."

  Willow stood from the chair and smoothed her skirts. "Well, Mr. Winthrop, I hope you enjoy admitting when you're wrong. Because I'm certain you'll be doing just that before long."

  He stood, and he knew amusement lit his eyes. "We'll see, Miss Packer."

  "Oh. You might as well call me Willow. I have a feeling we'll be seeing much of each other."

  "Rhys, then."

  She looked at him warily, but then finally nodded and held out her hand. "Let the best person win."

  He grinned and took her hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he held it and placed his other hand over hers, enjoying the sizzling connection which arced between them. She gasped at it, too, but didn't tug her hand away, just looked at him warily. "I look forward to seeing the outcome," he said softly.

  She tugged her hand finally, and he reluctantly let it go, pleased when she rubbed her hand on her skirt, as if trying to rid it of the tingles he still felt shooting inside him. "Please tell Abigail I'd like to speak with her before she leaves."

  Willow moved toward the door. "I will. Good day, Mr. Winthrop—Rhys."

  He nodded. "Willow," he said, a moment before she slipped through the door.

  When her footsteps trailed off, he found himself smiling. His trip wasn't turning out anything like he'd expected, but the funny part was, he didn't even feel bad about it.

  He whistled as he began clearing the paperwork off his desk.

  Chapter 5

  "Abby, I'm telling you, this is pointless," Willow said, climbing out of the wagon.

  It had taken some practice, but Willow was impressed by the way Abby swung down off the vehicle unassisted, like she'd done so her whole life.

  As Abby rounded the horses, Willow took in her heightened appearance. Her cheeks were flushed, strands of her sable hair had fallen loose, and her grass-green eyes were lit with excitement. "You said there was a treasure hidden somewhere in the hotel. And you think I'm just going to stay home?" She laughed as if that wasn't even a possibility.

  "It's just a legend!"

  "Legends are based on truths," she said, with a sing-song lilt.

  Willow laughed and threw up her hands. She couldn't argue with her. She'd said the same thing to Rhys the day before. "Did you tell Rhys you were coming back today?"

  "Of course not. I didn't know about the treasure when I talked to him."

  Willow rolled her eyes before glancing to her bodyguard. "I'll be inside the hotel for most of the day. If you want, you can wander around town. I'll make sure to have someone find you before we leave."

  Jared tipped his hat in acknowledgement, but he didn't move from his location. Willow sighed, wondering if he'd remain in that spot the rest of the day.

  She walked with Abby into the hotel lobby. "I really wish having Jared around wasn't necessary. I feel bad for the man. He can't possibly enjoy following me around all day, no matter how much he's getting paid.

  "Oh, don't worry about him." Abby reached for Willow's hand, and squeezed it with excitement. "Now, come on! I'm ready to find some treasure." She grinned like a child on Christmas morning.

  Willow laughed again and followed her into the hotel. She walked to the front desk and smiled at the man there. "Good morning, William."

  The young man touched the brim of his hat in greeting. "Miss Packer. Miss Winthrop. A pleasure to see both of you." He turned his full attention to Abby. "Miss, on behalf of everyone at the hotel, I want to be the first to apologize for what happened during your stay here. Mrs. Clayton was wrong to turn you out."

  Abby's stance softened. "That's kind of you. But I don't hold any of you accountable. That was Mrs. Clayton's doing, completely."

  The young man sighed with relief, and his eyes turned soft and rounded like a puppy as he gazed at Abby. Willow tried to hold back her laughter. He was obviously smitten with her friend. "William, where can we find Mr. Winthrop?"

  "I'm not certain, Miss." His eyes darted to the side toward the dining hall. "He's been busy this morning."

  Abby looked at Willow. "That makes sense. I'm sure he has a lot to do. A lot of changes to make."

  Before Willow could respond, William interrupted. "He is making a lot of changes, but that's not what kept him so busy."

  When both Willow and Abby gave him their full attention, he blushed and shrunk a little as if realizing he shouldn't have said anything.

  "Then what has?" Willow asked, prompting him.

  "It's been strange, but—"

  A woman’s scream and a loud crash sounded throughout the lobby. Abby gasped, but Willow was already running toward the dining room, where the commotion originated.

  A woman was sprawled on the floor, hands on her head, while other workers hovered over her.

  Before Willow or Abby could say anything, Rhys ran into the room. "Is everyone all right?" he asked, looking from one person to the next. His eyes lingered on Willow an extra second, before returning his attention to the woman sprawled on the floor.

  A few of the men backed away as Rhys knelt down, and the woman tried to lean upon her elbows. He shook his head. "No, no. Hold still, I want to make sure you aren’t seriously injured. Does anything hurt?"

  "Only my head. I landed on it pretty hard, but I think I'll be all right."

  Rhys reached up to the woman's head, but paused. "May I?" he asked before touching her.

  "Yes."

  The woman held still as Rhys probed her skull. Once satisfied, he leaned back. "You'll have a nasty bump, unfortunately. I would feel better if the doctor checked you over."

  The woman's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "Oh no. No, sir. That isn’t necessary."

  He frowned. "I'm concerned you might have a concussion, something more serious than just a bump."

  "This isn't the first time I've hit my head, and I'm sure it won't be the last. My husband and I would rather not have the expense."

  "I will pay for the doctor."

&nbs
p; The woman's eyes bugged out. "No, sir! You don't have to do that." She ran her hands down the front of her apron nervously, and Rhys reached out, placing his hand over them, stilling her.

  "What's your name?" He asked softly.

  "Martha."

  "Martha, you're my employee, and you were injured in my hotel. That makes me responsible, and I insist on paying the doctor to check you over. I will pay all expenses. I just want to make sure you’re all right."

  The woman's eyes filled with tears and she looked away, and Willow realized her own eyes watered. "Thank you, sir."

  Rhys nodded, before glancing around the scene. "Can you tell me what happened? How were you injured?"

  She shook her head softly. "It's the strangest thing. I was here, cleaning the windows as instructed. There was nothing around me except my own equipment, but when I turned, that bucket right over there—" she nodded to the metal pail on its side "—was behind me. I tripped over it before I ever saw it."

  "And you're sure it wasn't there before? It isn't yours?"

  "No. I don't know how it got there."

  "Did you see anyone behind you?"

  She bit her lip. "No. I was focused on my task. I heard a few people enter and leave the room at times, but no one directly behind me."

  He nodded grimly, and Willow wondered what he was thinking. "Thank you, Martha. Now, I want you to head up to one of the empty rooms, and I’ll fetch a doctor for you." He glanced at some of the other workers surrounding him. "Two of you, help Martha to a room, please."

  Everyone followed Rhys' orders the moment he stood.

  As Martha left the room, Rhys sighed, glancing back at the bucket before turning his attention to Willow and his sister.

  He stepped closer to them. "I wasn't expecting to see you again today," he said, looking at Abby. "Should I hope you've reconsidered and have decided to return east with me?"

  Abby snorted. "I think you can firmly shove that notion out of your head."

  He sighed, as if he weren't expecting anything different. "Well, regardless, I’m happy to see you. Unfortunately, I don't have any time to spare to visit today. Things aren't going well here."

  His words tipped off Willow's instincts. "What kind of things? William, the boy at the front desk, was about to tell us something, but then Martha fell. What's happened?"

  He blew out a long breath and raked a hand through his hair. "I think the better question is, what hasn't?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "There have been so many accidents. At first, I wondered if the staff was completely inept and needed training, but now, so many things have happened it doesn't seem coincidental."

  Abby looked spooked. "What do you mean? What sorts of things?"

  Rhys held up his hands. "Weird things. This bucket incident. Then there was a knife in a pile of dirty laundry that cut someone in housekeeping. Also, there was a pot on the stove that shouldn't have been there. It was clean, and our chef hadn’t made anything yet this morning, but when he reached out and grabbed the handle, it burned him. There have been other small accidents, but those are the highlights, and it’s still morning."

  "And there are no explanations for any of them?"

  He shook his head. "No. No one knows why the pan was hot, why the knife was in the basket, and how this bucket got here, but they obviously aren't coincidental. Not with so many things happening in succession."

  "And no one saw anything?" Willow asked, already knowing no one had.

  "No. No one has seen a thing." His face turned grim. "I'm on edge, just waiting for the next thing to happen."

  Willow yearned to help, but didn't know what she could do. Abby took his hand. "What can I do to help?"

  He smiled down at his sister. "You could always come home. We could still leave today and save me the headache of turning this place around."

  Abby let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes. "Not going to happen."

  "So, what are you two doing here?" He looked up at Willow, finally meeting her in the eye, and heat reverberated through her.

  She'd never had a man affect her with just a look, and she held back shivers. "I told Abby about DP's hoard."

  Rhys rocked back on his heels. "Ah. Now I see. You're here for a treasure hunt." He leveled a look at his sister, and she flushed guiltily.

  "You know how I am. How could I resist?"

  His expression relaxed a little as he chuckled. "I do know. And you're welcome to search every inch of the hotel, but you should know, I've been asking around, and it seems as if the employees have searched high and low."

  Willow step forward. "Not everywhere. We're hoping to look into the rooms the Claytons wouldn't have allowed others in."

  "That's a good place to start. I wish I could join you."

  "Oh, please say you will!" Abby clapped. "I know you're just as intrigued by this is I am."

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "I really wish I could. There's just so much going on today, and I doubt we're done with the accidents."

  Disappointment wove through Willow, and she was surprised by it. Before she could stop yourself, she asked, "But you must take a break at some point, don't you?"

  He leaned back and nodded slowly. "Yes. But I didn't think—"

  "Good," she said quickly. "It's settled, then. Join us when you have a break, or if no other accident occurs." She offered him a small smile.

  "All right."

  Abby bumped his arm. "But just so you know, if you find the treasure, it's mine."

  He grinned. "I’ll remember that."

  Chapter 6

  By evening, Rhys had a full-on headache. His skull pounded in time with his heart, and his eyes ached. All he wanted to do was go in his room, close the door, and rest, but there was still more to do. He hadn't even been able to slip away to see Abby and Willow.

  He wandered through the hotel, asking employees if they'd seen either of the women, and he quickly made his way to the library.

  After some cleaning, Rhys planned to open the library to his guests. It was well-stocked, but the Claytons had hoarded the resource, instead of sharing it. Rhys knew it would only help to drive more people to the property.

  Instead of knocking, he opened the door and stepped in. Willow knelt in front of one of the shelves, replacing the books before standing slowly to face him.

  "Where's Abigail?" He looked around the room again, as if she would appear at any moment.

  Willow interlocked her fingers in front of her. "She was hungry, so she went to the dining room to order trays for us. Something must've distracted her."

  He chuckled as he stepped farther in the room. "I can only imagine. Abigail has a tendency to get distracted. It's a trait I find endearing. What about your bodyguard?" He glanced to one of the oversized leather chairs by the fireplace. "Do you mind if I have a seat?"

  "Oh. Not at all. I've told Jared he's off-duty when I'm in the hotel. I figure it's safe enough." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "You must be exhausted."

  "I am. It’s been one of those kinds of days." He didn't know why he'd said that to her. Generally, he kept those sorts of things, weaknesses, to himself.

  She edged closer to him, the concern evident on her face. "Did anything else happen?" She slipped into the chair opposite him.

  "A few more things. Accidents. Well, supposed accidents. No matter how poorly trained staff may be, no hotel could survive if these things happened regularly. Someone is behind them."

  "But why? Why would someone want to do this?"

  He'd been wondering the same thing. "I don't know. Perhaps someone's not happy with the change in management."

  She clucked. "I'm not sure who would feel that way. The Claytons were horrible people." She cocked her head to the side as if contemplating something. "You know, I could see the Claytons doing something like this. Well, Mrs. Clayton, anyway. Mr. Clayton never seemed like the sort to even bother. In name, he owned the hotel, but Mrs. Clayton actually ran it. And I know from personal expe
rience, she's vicious."

  Rhys rolled the thought over in his mind. Mrs. Clayton hadn't been pleased with the sale of the hotel. In fact, she'd fought him on it. "That could be. She could've asked the staff to sabotage things for me."

  Willow shook her head. "I don't think so. I know a lot of the people who work here, and they're good people. Besides, no one liked Mrs. Clayton."

  Rhys bracketed his forehead with his hands. He felt as though there was a clue in these facts, somewhere, but he was so exhausted, and in too much pain, to figure it out. "If more accidents happen, I'll look into that. Thank you for the tip."

  She blushed, and he lowered his hands so he could get a better view of her. Rosy color blossomed over her skin, and he had an urge to kiss it as it moved. Worn out from the day, his self-control was weak, and his attraction to her burned even stronger. Suddenly, he was grateful he was sitting in a chair across from her, instead of closer. "Did you and Abby find anything today?" he asked, hoping to deter his thoughts.

  She perked up in her seat. "We did, but I don't think it's actually from DP. Someone wrote a poem about him, and we're hoping it's a clue to where the treasure is."

  He laughed as she stood, and fetched a scrap of paper off the table. He rose from his chair, ready to humor her, but didn't expect much. What were the odds they found a clue in one of the hundreds of books here?

  He moved over to the table, standing next to her. "That it?"

  She nodded and handed him the paper.

  Their fingers touched, and the same jolt he'd felt the first time he brushed against her skin, filled him. Except this time, he was more prepared for it. He lingered, taking the paper slowly, brushing his fingers over the back of her hands.

  She sucked in a breath, but held still, neither of them wanting the connection to end. Finally, though, Willow pulled her hand away, her breath unsteady. "Read it."

  He opened the folded note, and had to read it twice before his brain cleared enough of the desire filtering through it to comprehend what it said. Then, when he did, he read it again quickly. He lowered the paper slowly. "Why would someone leave this here?" The poem was awful, but strange enough that he wondered if it meant something.