“I’ll let Mattie know you’ve arrived.” The big man circled around him. “Wait here.”
Logan remained in the foyer a total of five seconds before he’d had enough of cooling his heels. He strode past the entryway and looked around the main parlor.
Nothing had changed in his five-year absence. And yet everything about the decor seemed more…sinful. Alone, each piece of furniture might be able to pass for tasteful, but together the red velvet divans, ornate paintings and gold filigree defined decadence.
Megan did not belong in this house. For any reason. Logan would have to make sure she understood why she could never come here again.
A movement in the back of the room cut off his thoughts. Mattie Silks had arrived in all her overstated grandeur. Arms outstretched, a flirtatious smile pasted on her lips, she glided to a spot in the center of the room then relaxed into a scandalous pose. Typical Mattie Silks behavior. Control the situation simply to prove she could, even if that meant hurting people in the process.
Logan knew his role in this particular drama. He was supposed to take a moment and admire the woman.
He wasn’t that much of a hypocrite.
Biting back a wave of impatience, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and did his best not to glare.
Satisfied she had his attention, Mattie spun in a slow circle then continued toward him. With her blond, corkscrew curls bouncing wildly and her dress two sizes too small, she looked like a caricature of herself.
Adding to the absurd picture, she slowed every fourth or fifth step and struck a more ridiculous pose than the last.
Subtlety was not the woman’s strong suit.
Controlling the situation, now that was where she excelled.
She eventually came to a halt directly in front of him. Slipper to boot, she stood close enough for him to get a whiff of her cheap perfume. Normally, he’d step back and reclaim his space. Not today. Today Logan had his own point to make.
“Mattie.” He studied her dress with a critical eye. The frothy concoction of lace and blue silk was cut dangerously low in front and even lower in the back. “You’re as obvious as ever.”
“And you’re still the rude boy of years past.”
“Be careful,” he warned. “I’m also the U.S. Marshal of this territory now.”
“Ah, well, I won’t hold that against you. You see…
Marshal.” She looked pointedly at the tin star on his chest as she gave him a condescending pat on the arm. “I find myself in an accommodating mood at the moment.”
Logan firmed his jaw. Mattie Silks was never in an accommodating mood. Unless it suited her.
He opened his mouth to argue the point, but shut it just as quickly. Patience was his greatest weapon. He would let Mattie play her game, knowing there was too much at stake to lose her cooperation.
That didn’t mean he had to give the woman all the control.
Slanting a hard glance in her direction, he pushed past her and strode deeper into the room.
She was forced to follow him or stand staring at empty air.
It was a small victory, to be sure, but one he would use to his full advantage.
Unfortunately, his plans changed when his gaze landed on a chair off to his left—a very occupied chair. One of Mattie’s girls had yet to go to bed. Seemingly oblivious to his presence, she tugged absently at a loose thread on her dress.
Even with the glazed look in her eyes, Logan recognized the girl. Her name was Emily, no…Emma. She’d been a child when he’d left, barely thirteen. Her mother had raised her under this very roof. And all that that implied. By the way Emma was dressed, it was clear she was now a second generation “employee” of Mattie’s.
But that wasn’t the only thing that bothered Logan about the girl. With her slight build and pale blond hair, she looked a lot like Megan. Too much.
Logan experienced a moment of panic at the alarming similarities between the two, but quickly shoved the emotion aside. Unlike this girl, Megan had escaped her mother’s profession. She’d been given the chance to pursue a respectable life. With Logan. He would not let her down.
But what if he did? What if he couldn’t save her?
Mattie chose that moment to move back into his line of vision. Again, she stood too close. Again, he remained unimpressed. He wasn’t the green lawman anymore, the one who’d been taken off guard long enough to get another man shot.
“Just so we’re clear, Miss Silks.” He glared at the hand she’d rested on his sleeve. “I’m here for one reason only. To rescue Megan from her current…predicament.”
The madam smirked at him. “Your devotion is admirable.”
Her goading tone set him on edge. “Never doubt my loyalty. I will do anything.” He peeled away the fingers on his bicep, one claw at a time. “And I mean anything, to ensure Megan’s safety.”
“Well, then.” She perched on a nearby chair and folded her arms around her waist. “For once we have the same goal. Who would have thought?”
Who, indeed. As much as it galled Logan to admit it, even to himself, this woman—this brothel owner—could be the key to Megan’s freedom. Yet how could he trust such a person as this?
A jolt of helplessness whipped through him. But in the next moment, Trey’s words came back to him. The Lord will direct your way.
Was God at work even now? Could the Heavenly Father mean for Logan to ally himself with a woman like Mattie Silks? Even for a moment?
Logan was well versed in the Old Testament story of Rahab, the prostitute. God had used the most unlikely of women to help the Israelites defeat Jericho.
The Lord will direct your way…
For Megan’s sake Logan would try anything, including an unlikely alliance with a notorious madam. If only temporarily.
Swallowing his misgivings, he focused his thoughts on Megan, then addressed Mattie with a cool tone. “Look, Mattie, I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to get information that will free Megan. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
To Logan’s utter surprise, the woman nodded. “You may rest easy, Marshal.” Her gaze turned serious. “I’ll do everything in my power to help your Megan.”
His Megan. Yes. She was his. She’d always been his. And always would be. “Good enough. First, I need to know how—” He broke off at the sound of rustling silk, only just realizing Emma was still in the room with them, openly listening to their conversation.
He grimaced at the girl.
Mattie’s gaze followed his. “Go to your room.” Her tone brooked no argument, but the girl didn’t budge.
A foolish mistake. One Mattie would surely punish her for later.
“I said leave,” Mattie ordered. “Or I’ll lock you in your room for two days without food.”
Logan knew the madam meant every word. Apparently, so did Emma. Shoulders hunched, eyes glued to her feet, she made her way toward the staircase leading to the second floor.
Mattie kept her hawklike gaze trained on the girl until she disappeared from sight.
Finished with the delays, Logan got straight to the point. “How did Megan end up in your private boudoir, when she’d come only to read to a sick woman?”
Mattie swung around, parked one fist on her hip and zeroed in on a spot just above his head. As she stood in that particular pose, ignoring him completely, Logan feared she wouldn’t answer