Maggie’s husky laugh surprises him. “You’re very sure of yourself aren’t you, Shepherd?”
“Maybe,” he stops speaking when she leans forward and grasps his face in her hands.
“I think you’ll be the one dreamin’, Mr. Millard,” Maggie whispers with an Irish lilt.
His grin fades replaced by desire. She takes his mouth, kissing him passionately and when he groans, she releases him and sits back.
“Now, I’ll dream about you, Shepherd. Good night.”
Shep is speechless as she climbs from the carriage. He chuckles as they pull away.
Maggie laughs as she walks up to her room inside the boarding house. Drawing her keys from her bag she hurries inside. It is a small room with a bed, a window and a two-person table and chair. In the winter she is thankful for the tiny room. It keeps her warm
Not so much in the summer. Heating up the wood stove, she starts a pot of hot water steaming for a cup of tea.
Maggie is still smiling a few minutes later as she sips on her hot tea. A knock at the door has heart beat increasing in anticipation as she pulls open the door.
“Shep?”
“Not quite?” Clint shoves his foot in the crack of the door before she can slam it and shoulders his way into her room, causing her to drop her tea.
“Who are you?” Maggie demands and looks around desperate for a weapon.
“The real question is who are you, Mrs. Rose?”
“I don’t understand, Sir,” Maggie attempts to run around him, but Clint kicks the door shut and raises his pistol.
“No need to be so formal.” His eyes travel down her dress and back up, “My name’s Clint Hayden, you can call me Clint. I plan on getting to know you intimately by morning.” He grins. Maggie’s blood goes cold and her blue eyes widen in fear.
“I’m looking for someone and you’re going to help me. Who was the man you were with today?”
“My husband?” Maggie asks with wide-eyed innocence. “He should be back any minute and you really shouldn’t be here when he gets back.”
“Nice try.” Clint’s eyes harden. “Do know what happens when a man gets desperate, Mrs. Rose?
“Yes,” she whispers. Maggie draws a breath to scream but a quick slap sends her reeling towards the bed.
“Bad things.” He fists a handful of her bodice in his hand and jerks her close. “Answer my questions and I’ll let you go. Give me a hard time and you will suffer,” he spits, leaning over her and the smell of alcohol causes her to gag. “Nod yes if you understand.”
Maggie nods and he pulls her to her feet.
“Excellent. Shall we sit?” Maggie eyes the gun and sits in a chair next to the woodstove. “I have one job, to stop Mrs. Gilbert from returning to Nebraska. Tell me where she is.”
“I only met her yesterday. I’m a nurse at the Children’s hospital. They hired me to look at her baby,” Maggie explains.
“I don’t care about that. Where is she?” he sneers, and his eyes trace her figure.
“I don’t know. They left on a train before we did.”
Clint hisses in frustration and grabs a chair to sit on across from her. He leans out and grips her knee.
Maggie jumps at his touch and glares at him, casting a quick glance at the door. Clint watches her eyes and backhands her hard across the cheek, splitting her lip and causing her wig to slip. “Tell me where she is!”
“Please, I don’t know anything!” Maggie sobs.
Clint rips off the wig, ignoring Maggie’s scream of pain. He stares at her in surprise before he starts to laugh. “You were the decoy! Smart,” he murmurs and stands up to pace.
“I’ve told you all I know,” Maggie stands up, clasping her hands in front of her, hoping he will think she’s pleading for her life.
“Which train were they on?” he demands.
“I don’t know, they left before us. Please let me go,” she begs. The moment his eyes drop to her cleavage she draws the blade from the sleeve of her dress and slices the hand holding the pistol. Maggie shrieks as he drops the pistol with a roar of outrage.
Clint leaps after her and grabs her sleeve with his bloody hand and Maggie screams again, praying someone will come to her aid.
They struggle, but she breaks away with a rip of satin. Grabbing the boiling tea-pot, she swings it hard at Clint. Hot steam and water hit his chest and explode upward towards his face.
Maggie leaps for the door, and rips it open, flying down the hallway, screaming for help.
Clint hears her screams for help and voices shouting. Ignoring the pain, he throws open her window and begins the climb to the second floor. Fire escapes are a requirement in these boarding houses.
“Hey! Stop!” A man’s voice shouts from Maggie’s window.
Clint runs and doesn’t look back.
Maggie runs to the first familiar face, Mrs. McDoogle. Together with her husband they own and run the boarding house.
“What’s happened?” Mrs. McDoogle cries out. Her neighbor Tess comes running and gasps when she recognizes Maggie.
“Take her to my room, Mrs. McDoogle.” Together they guide her inside and Tess brings a wet cloth for her face.
“Maggie, what happened?” Tess whispers and wraps a blanket around her shoulders.
“A strange man knocked on my door. He attacked me when I opened it,” she whispers and holds the white rag to her throbbing face.
“Just rest, lamb, I’ll go meet the police,” Mrs. McDoogle promises and hurries from the room.
“What did he want?” Tess asks.
“I don’t know. It happened so fast, Tess.”
“The Bobbies are here,” Mrs. McDoogle says with a sharp knock on the door.
Wyatt walks inside and blanches when he realizes it’s Maggie. He steps outside
