“The steward in the gaming room had indicated Dalton had been playing cards earlier but had left abruptly. Where to, no one knew. She’d checked his room, but Dalton didn’t answer at her knock. Where had he gone? Why had he left the boat? Bigger question was why was she still on the boat? As the hour grew later, she’d begun to suspect he wasn’t coming back, and she’d been a fool to stay and wait for the man. She stood at the railing near the gangplank leading down off the Marie-Dearie, her gaze o...n the shoreline, hoping to see Dalton moving along the riverfront road. Several men appeared on the road, rushing across the dock, headed straight for the Marie-Dearie. Before they made it to the gangplank, Rosalyn could tell who the lead gentleman was—the marshal who’d come aboard a year ago, ready to string Dalton up on the nearest tree. Her pulse racing, Rosalyn turned and hurried down the stairs to the cabins below. She went straight to Dalton’s room and, using a hairpin, picked the lock and entered.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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