"Why'd you really do all that stuff back there at the Sweet Lash?" Mel asked presently, a small smile playing around her mouth.
"Why'd you stop Diamond Jack from shooting me?" Ryan asked. Mel had given Hope and him a breathless description of what had occurred in the viewing room at the Sweet Lash as the three of them hurried through the dark night, leaving the seedy Levee District behind.
Mel's grin deepened. Ryan realized he'd never seen her smile before—at least in any genuine sense. The single dimple in her right cheek made her look about fifteen years younger. Ryan squinted at her in disbelief.
"Ramiro?"
Mel gave him a "what's your problem, asshole?" look that only confirmed his sudden suspicion that Jim Donahue wasn't the only person he knew who had an existence in Hope's time period.
Son of a bitch, this was amazing.
"What did you call me?" Mel asked suspiciously.
"Sorry. You just sort of reminded me of someone for a second."
She shook her head. "You're a strange man. Nice, but strange. And to answer your question, I stopped Jack because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time."
"Guess we're even, then."
"Guess so," Mel replied, suddenly looking more relaxed than Ryan had ever seen her.
They both glanced over when the drawing room door shut softly and Hope hurried into the room.
Ryan's eyes widened in amazement. It struck him for the first time that he'd never really seen her fully clothed. Seeing Hope in the garb of an early-twentieth-century gentlewoman sent another shock wave through him.
"What?" Hope whispered when she saw his face.
Ryan blinked, realizing he'd been gaping. She wore a long, checked tan-and-black skirt with a white ruffled sort of blouse that buttoned all the way up to her neck. Instead of spilling down her back her hair had been affixed to her head. With the black belt highlighting her tiny waist, the few loose curls around her cheeks and the snug, form-fitting white blouse, she looked fresh, feminine and thoroughly alluring.
"Nothing," Ryan replied, clearing his throat.
She drew a long, midnight blue velvet box from a deep pocket in her skirt. She opened the box and took out something that flashed with muted fires in the dim room.
"This is for you," Hope whispered, reaching out to Mel. "I have already told Addie you will bring it to her. Addie has helped me dispose of such things before when I needed funds for various projects. A jeweler she knows wil
l give you a fair price, and you and the others will have some spending money to start anew."
Mel accepted what Hope offered. For several seconds she just stared at her hand. Her brown eyes flickered up to the portrait over the mantel. Abruptly she reached out, using one hand to grab Hope's wrist and the other to return the object into her palm.
; "What?" Hope asked in rising confusion. She gently pushed her hand back toward Mel but the older woman was unwilling to take what she offered.
"I may have been raised in an Indiana cornfield and been stupid enough to believe the lies Jack's man told me when I was sixteen years old, but I'm not a fool, Miss Stillwater."
Hope's gaze flickered over to Ryan uneasily as though asking for assistance in understanding. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what you mean. I told you I would give you something to help you and the others financially—"
"So you're giving me that? Are you mad, girl?"
When Ryan saw Hope's slain expression he grabbed her hand and pried back her fingers.
An exquisite platinum, sapphire and diamond necklace lay across her palm like a supple, jeweled serpent— the same necklace that Hope's mother wore in the portrait.
"Hope ... no, honey."
Hope looked at Ryan, then at Mel and back to Ryan again. A look of grim determination suddenly overcame her face. She took the necklace from Ryan and shoved it at Mel's belly until she grunted and raised her hands reluctantly.
"Stones. Rocks. That's what they are. Do you think they mean more to me than human lives? Don't tell me they mean more to you," Hope challenged fiercely when Mel opened her mouth to protest.
"No. Of course not," Mel said after a stunned moment.