Liam closed his eyes and nodded slightly. “Stupid . . . Had to . . .”
Jeremiah drew in a deep breath. Hannan couldn’t find real investors, but he’d been embarrassed to admit he couldn’t. So he’d taken out a loan with . . .
“Who is this man? Rodgers. The one you borrowed from?” he asked, dread curling in his stomach.
“Not good . . . Dangerous. People said, they warned . . .” Liam shook his head. Then he grabbed hold of Jeremiah’s shirt, his blue eyes swimming with worry and drink. “I had to. You understand?”
Jeremiah didn’t, at all, but he nodded just to get Liam to step back. “This is important,” he said, taking hold of the other man’s shoulders. “I need you to pay attention to me.”
Liam nodded, slow and exaggerated.
“When did you find out about this?”
“To— Today.”
Jeremiah nodded. Today. He let go of Liam and stepped back, thinking. The man was in no shape to find his way back home, and it was a risk for Jeremiah to leave the livery to escort him there. “Did you get a telegram?”
When Liam said yes, Jeremiah moved to latch the door. “Stay here for tonight. I can’t trust you to find your way home, and Deirdre won’t forgive me if you were to fall into a horse trough or wake up in the middle of the road.” He took hold of Liam’s arm and guided him back to Fred’s room. There was only the one cot these days, the one Jeremiah had slept in for the past few nights. He gave it over to Liam now.
The man fell asleep the second he laid down, and Jeremiah retreated back into the stable. He’d grabbed his pocketwatch on his way out and looked at it now. It was only a couple of hours until dawn. Deirdre would be safe at Liam’s house tonight. No one could travel that quickly. It was likely the men coming for Liam’s repayment wouldn’t show in town until next week.
He shoved the watch into his pocket and sat in her chair at the table, propping his feet up. And then he tried to figure out how to break Liam’s news to Deirdre without breaking her trust in her brother.
Chapter Twenty
DEIRDRE SHOOK HER HEADin disbelief. But she’d seen the telegram—there was no denying what Jeremiah told her about Liam was true.
And if it was true, he was in danger.
She should have known something was amiss from the moment Liam had told her about the suggestion that he add a gaming hall to his hotel, but she’d been so happy for him. His hard work was finally coming to fruition, and now . . .
“These men are not Jake Gilbert. They likely lend money for a living, and will do anything to have it repaid. Ensure the door remains locked,” Jeremiah said. He ran a hand through his hair, but his eyes were rimmed in red. Deirdre doubted he’d gotten much sleep at all. “I assume your brother keeps a firearm?”
“He has a pistol that belonged to our father.”
“Good. Do you know how to use it?”
