Maxwell smiles and walks over to him with a cigar. “Dayton don’t forget to put me down for a share of the track. I’ll give you the money in the morning over breakfast. A thousand dollars for ten shares?”
“Of course, but why ten shares?” Dayton asks out of curiosity.
“Did I get the number wrong? Savannah said it was ten shares for a hundred a share. At least that’s what she told everyone else.” Maxwell takes a drag on his cigar and observes Dayton’s reaction.
“She did what?” Dayton gasps.
“That’s what I thought,” Maxwell sighs, “you’d better come sit down.”
Later, Maxwell and Dayton corner Belinda in the great room as she says goodbye to the last of their guests. “Darling, do you have something to share with Dayton?”
Belinda whirls on him with her hands on her hips and begins to shout at him in rapid French. Maxwell struggles not to laugh at the look on Dayton’s face. “Buffoon!” She almost cuffs him upside the head but is able to restrain herself with help from her husband.
“You broke her heart! All of this was for you, the dress, the dancing…My God, do you think she wanted to be pawed by every man in this ballroom? I’ve only known her for two days, and I know her better than you do!”
“What are you talking about?” Dayton growls.
Maxwell turns to glare at Dayton, “Give me a moment with my wife.”
He drags her to a corner, and they speak quickly while she answers his rapid-fire questions. “Belinda! Why did you let her do that?” Maxwell shouts.
Belinda points at him and shouts another curse word in French before excusing herself for the evening.
“What am I not seeing?” Dayton asks.
Maxwell runs a hand over his mustache and goatee, in clear frustration. “They hatched a plan to fill Savannah’s dance card with the men Belinda believed to be the best choice to raise money for your race track. She chose the dress to draw as much attention as possible. While they danced, Savannah filled their minds with images of your dream, suggesting the cost per share.”
“At the price of one hundred dollars per shares with a minimum of ten shares to buy in?” Dayton stammers.
Maxwell struggles not to laugh, and soon both men are howling. “Genius! They are brilliant,” Maxwell says when he can compose himself. Dayton’s laughter fades.
“Oh, I’ve really hurt her,” Dayton runs a hand over his face. “I basically accused her of searching for a rich husband. I thought she was using me.”
“Let’s get another drink. You’ve got to fix this,” Maxwell demands, “and I need to let my wife cool down.”
Dayton returns to his suite and finds it dark and quiet. Savannah’s scent fills the air, and he inhales deeply. He realized something tonight watching her dance with other men. He’s in love with her! If he didn’t screw this up, he will apologize in the morning and convince her they were meant to be together.
Blue eyes full of retribution stare at the fireworks from a wooden warehouse on the docks of Lake Michigan and grins. His plan will work perfectly. S.E. Ward will pay for destroying his plans. Hatred gleams in his eyes as he watches them dance and swirl with the elite while he hides in the dark like a bug. A cow moos and he growls, “Shut up.”
“Tomorrow the fool will walk away from her at some point, and when he does, I’ll be ready.”
The train ride in coach was well worth it. It allowed him time to plan and decide how best to deal with S.E. Ward. He drinks from a flask in his pocket and glares at the sky.
Chapter 42
“I need to make sure my bags are ready to go, could you send my tickets to my suite?” Savannah asks.
“Of course,” the clerk replies. “Let’s verify, one first-class ticket on the Central Pacific railway at ten a.m. train bound for Indiana.
“That’s correct, I’d also like to send a telegram,” she quickly pays for the telegram and waits for the confirmation. It’s to her Father to let them know that she will miss the race.
Savannah woke to a note from Dayton that he had a breakfast meeting, which worked perfectly with her plans.
“We’ll send a concierge to collect your bags in about thirty minutes,” the clerk suggests.
“Excellent,” Savannah walks quickly through the lobby and returns to her suite.
Packing doesn’t take as long as she thought. She runs a hand over the beautiful gown from last night and decides to leave it with a note for Dayton. Using a hairpin from her bag, she attaches the note and steps back.
Her heart is pounding as her mind screams at her that she’s a coward. Stay and fight! If you love him… but the image of him glaring at her last night and his hateful insinuations fill her mind. The thought of it has her sniffing back tears. “I can’t stay and cause his dreams to be damaged.” When did you become so dependent on him, Savannah Ward?
Turning from the dress, she grabs her bags and carries them into the living room. Her canvas bag will travel with her. It has one change of clothes, night things, and her pistol. She lifts her travel dress and slides her blade into the sheath inside her boot. Tucking it inside her back she stands up and straightens her soft yellow dress.
A knock sounds out, “Concierge,” a voice calls.
Savannah opens the door and screams as a man rushes inside
