Page 146 of The Trouble with Tigers
Kitty glared at her brother, then read the note. Her eyes went wide. “This can’t be.”
“Oh, but it can, Lady Hastings,” Peters said. He pointed to a scribble on the bottom of the sheet. “Witness your brother’s signature.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“There’s no message here for you, my lord.”
Zeke stared at the spectacled, bald little man who peeked at him from behind the telegraph machine.
Zeke shifted his gaze to the box of orange envelopes situated on the credenza behind the operator. How hard would it be to reach over that shiny head, grab the messages, and search them himself?
“Check again. My brother specifically told me he’d be in touch by today, and I’m sure I specified this office.”
The man puffed out his cheeks and looked ready to argue, until he glanced up. Whatever he read in Zeke’s eyes had him swiveling in his chair and all but diving for the box.
He searched the messages forwards and backwards, and with evident reluctance turned back to Zeke. “I’m sorry, my lord, truly. It is not here.”
Zeke might have to kill Caden next time he saw him. He’d left Kitty’s warm bed, ridden all this way, for the sole purpose of learning Caden’s so-called important information.
Behind him the door to the post office jingled as another customer entered.
“I’ll wait,” Zeke growled at the machine operator, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Bullying a hapless public servant, Thurgood. Haven’t you anything better to do?”
Zeke’s brows shot up at Randall’s voice. And, he’d be willing to bet the man had company. His mouth twitched and he made a slow about-face. “Caden, Randall,” he said with a nod for each.
The pair of them stood side by side, their big frames taking up far too much space in the small office.
“Caden, how lucky for you to have arrived at precisely this moment.” Zeke grasped his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. Hard.
Caden shot Zeke a querulous look. “Why’s that, brother?”
Zeke smiled coolly. “Because you just interrupted my very detailed plot of your impending demise.”
Caden’s mouth quirked in a grin. “Born lucky, I suppose.”
Zeke gestured for the two men to precede him out of the office. They convened on the cobbled street, making a loose knit circle.
He wasted no time getting to the point. “Tell me the damned news I’ve been waiting to hear for over twenty-four hours, and after that, explain why you’re here.”
“As to why we’re here…” Caden wrinkled his nose. “For one thing we brought you a change of clothes. We figured the ones you had with you must be ripe by now.”
“We figured correctly,” Randall added with a waft of his hand.
Zeke gazed heavenward. “You came all this way to see to my grooming needs?”
“That and we have news to deliver, of course. Thought it would be too wordy to express via telegraph.”
“What is it?” Zeke bit out.
“Not until you’ve done a quick change—and we have some food in front of us,” Caden said, without a trace of his usual lighthearted charm.
Zeke opened his mouth to argue.
Caden forestalled him, lifting one hand. “Before you waste your breath telling us there isn’t time, think of your horse. She needs a break. While you’re at it, think of yourself. You look half-starved. When’s the last time you ate?”
Zeke’s mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t remember.
