The Escort - By Gina Robinson Page 0,60

change your mind and want it back, all you have to do is ask."

She lifted her chin, trying to look braver than she felt. "If I ever go back to Italy, be assured that I will."

As he caught her elbow to lead her toward town, she said. "I have not given up on you yet." And she meant it. She didn't mean to give up—ever.

John Lawlor jumped to his feet and rounded his desk to meet Tonio at the doorway, slapping him heartily on the back. "If it isn't my friend the Italian. Come in, Tonio. What a surprise. I didn't think you had business in Harrison. What's so important that it's gotten you out of the Hole and brought you to our little town?"

Tonio surveyed the office. "Don't you do any work around here? Where are all of your clients?"

He pointed to a chair. "I don't entertain many here at my Harrison office. Most of my work is in Spokane. I come here for peace and quiet so I can get my thinking and paperwork done. Are you going to answer my question? What brings you here?"

"A lady."

John winked. "I should have guessed."

"It's not what you think. She's a married lady or widowed or some damn thing. I was charged in New York with bringing her out here to meet her husband and look out for her well-being."

"Oh?"

Tonio explained the situation.

John rubbed his chin. "Finding out about the property should be easy enough—a talk with the clerk at the courthouse. The legality of the marriage…" John stroked his chin. "Never consummated?"

Tonio nodded. "Like I said, she never met him."

"I'm sworn to uphold the law, so I shouldn't even be asking this—who knows that she never consummated the marriage?"

Tonio didn't miss a beat. "The Halls and me."

Lawlor nodded. "The groom have any next of kin, anyone who could contest?"

Tonio shook his head. "Don't know. You'd have to ask Angel."

"I'll do just that. Send her by, Tonio, send her by. It may be that all this is moot. Legally speaking, I wouldn't want to cheat a legitimate heir out of an inheritance. On the other hand, why should the state confiscate what this fellow worked so hard to provide for his bride, mail-order or not. His intention was clearly to provide for her."

"I'll do just that, John. Thanks." Tonio glanced at the clock. "I have to get going if I'm going to catch the train back to Burke. Keep me posted of any progress and send the bills to me in Burke."

The town of Harrison sprawled neatly on the shore of Lake Coeur d'Alene. In less than a dozen years it had sprung to life as a thriving lumber town boasting a population near a thousand. As she stood at the rail of the Georgie Oakes, Angelina counted three lumber mills lining the town's lakeside edge. It had been so nice of the Colonel to give her the day off and arrange passage to Harrison with his friend, the captain of the boat.

The hum and buzz of saws drifted out from shore as the Georgie Oakes negotiated its way cautiously through the log booms that stretched into the lake to the waiting stall at the Harrison ferry dock. A gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly cut pines and firs out over the water and the town. Bright, freshly milled lumber was stacked neatly in lumberyards filled to capacity, making a wholesome picture.

As the captain helped Angelina down the gangplank, the newness and activity of the town dazzled her. The main street, a wide unpaved dirt road, ran through town, mimicking the shape of the lake. It was not smooth or flat, but hilled and banked, following the natural terrain of the land. Lumber mills and boat docks filled the lake side of the road.

On the opposite side of the street, the town's main businesses bustled. Plank sidewalks ran the length of the street on either side, as if the town had all the lumber it could ever want. Boards were spread across dirt streets to protect pedestrians from mud and dust. Several streets wound their way off the main street and up the hill into a residential district. Every structure in town was made of carefully milled lumber boards.

To Angelina, the town could have been made of gold and been no more impressive. Timber was scarce in Italy and as such was prized and used sparingly. Here the abundance of its use seemed almost obscene. The town stood as a