Authors: Blazing Embers
“You cold?” Jewel asked when Cassie shivered again.
“No, but I gotta go.” Cassie reached back and felt the thick braid, then nodded and stood up. “Thanks for doing my hair and … well, for everything, but I gotta get back. I ran off and didn’t even feed my chickens or nothing. Besides, I gotta clean up that blood before somebody sees it.”
“Yes, you’d better run along and do that. We don’t want anyone asking nosy questions about our boys, do we?”
Cassie faced Jewel squarely. “They’re not my boys. I’m glad they’re outta my life and I want to keep it that way.”
“I know you don’t like Blackie, and nobody can blame you for that, but—”
“I don’t want nothing to do with either of them.” Cassie checked herself in the mirror once more, still a little awed by the shapely young woman who stood before her. Was it really her? She’d changed so much of late she hardly recognized herself.
“Not even Rook?” Jewel stepped into the mirror’s range and found Cassie’s gaze in it. “When you came in here you were crying and howling, and it wasn’t because you were afraid. It was because you thought Rook was dead. Once we’d decided he was probably alive, you calmed down. You think I’m dumb, honey? Don’t you think I can tell that you’ve gone a little sweet on my Rook?”
“I feel something for him, sure. I nursed him back to health, didn’t I? We’ve been living in the same house for weeks on end, haven’t we? Sure, I feel something for him. That’s natural.”
“Completely natural,” Jewel agreed, but there was a special shading to her voice and a sheen in her eyes when she said it.
Catching the maternal gleam in Jewel’s eyes, Cassie decided to let her have the last word. No use arguing. Every mother crow thought her babies were the blackest, Cassie thought with a flippant shrug. If Jewel wanted to think that Cassie was head over heels in love with Rook, then let her think it. Didn’t matter. Cassie wouldn’t be seeing Rook again. He was gone. Gone like the only other important man in her life. They never stayed. A woman couldn’t depend on men. A woman was better off depending on herself.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Jewel assured her as she walked with Cassie downstairs and to the front door. “Be careful out there alone.”
“I will. I’ll be fine on my own.” Cassie smiled, realizing that she hadn’t just said the words, she actually believed them. “Thanks for everything.” She kissed Jewel’s softly wrinkled cheek and went to inspect the buckboard.
“Miss Jewel, if I have to take on both of those boys, I want double pay!” A high-pitched female voice drifted out the front door, making Jewel spin around.
“I’ll decide the pay around here, Lucy Lee,” Jewel retorted, then shut the door on the rest of her tirade, leaving Cassie outside to become familiar with her new possessions on her own.
Cassie went around to the horse and looked him over. He was getting on in years but seemed to have a few left in him, provided she took good care of him. She rubbed her hand between his ears and then down to his blazed face. His eyes reflected a gentle nature.
“Hello, Hector. I’ll take good care of you if you do the same for me. Is it a deal?” She patted his neck reassuringly, then climbed up into the buckboard’s hard seat. Taking up the reins, she felt a burst of pride. There was nothing like owning a horse and buckboard to put a spring in your step, she thought as she headed the horse back to town.
She was so absorbed in her new acquisitions and the bliss of owning her own means of transportation that she didn’t notice she’d passed the bank until she heard her name being called behind her. Cassie turned and saw Boone running after her, waving his arm wildly. His coattails flapped in the breeze and his hair bounced across his forehead.
“Miss Cassie! Cassie, wait!” he yelled, then eased up when she reined the horse over to the side of the street and had it stop. He ran up to the buckboard and held onto the side, looking up into her face with something that bordered on joy. “What are you doing in town? Weren’t you going to stop by and see me before you went back home?”
“I figured you’d be busy,” Cassie said, feeling guilty on two counts—she’d just lied to him, and she’d actually given him nary a thought till that moment. “I came in to run a few errands, but I gotta get back to the place.”
“Can’t you take time to have a cup of tea with me?” He was crestfallen. “Just ten or fifteen minutes of your time, Cassie? We could step across the street to the Basin Coffee Shop.”
She couldn’t refuse him, not when he was practically on his knees begging her.
“Well, all right,” she responded, putting on the brake and wrapping the reins around the lever. “But no more than half an hour. Like I said, I got work to do back at the homestead.”
“I understand.” He took her hand and helped her down from the buckboard. “What happened to your chestnut? Who does this buckboard belong to?”
“Me.”
“You?” He looked startled.
“I …” She looked back at Hector and stalled for time. “I traded the chestnut for this outfit!” She smiled, proud of her in-the-nick-of-time lie.
“You traded that fine horse for this old hag?” Boone asked, obviously not impressed.
“And for the buckboard,” Cassie pointed out, her feelings singed by his disapproval. “Anyways, it’s my business.” She lifted her chin and started across the street, leaving Boone to follow in her wake.
“Of course it’s your business. I wasn’t being critical.”
“Yes, you were, but I’m not paying that any mind.” She caught his look of injured shock but shrugged it off. If he wanted to love her, he’d better be sure it was the real her, she thought. Until then, she’d been on her very best behavior with him; however, she felt it was now time to let go of all pretense and be herself around him—for better or worse. He’d either accept her or reject her. Either way, she’d survive.
“If you’d only told me that you needed a wagon, I would have been glad to find a good one and a nice horse. You could have financed it at the bank and kept that fine chestnut.”
“Didn’t want the chestnut,” Cassie snapped, opening the door to the coffee shop before Boone could do it for her.
“I thought the chestnut belonged to Jewel.”
“Boone, are you going to keep harping on this? If so, then I’d just as soon go—”
“No, no!” He cupped her elbow in one hand and guided
her to a table for two near the window. “We’ll talk about whatever you want to talk about.”
Cassie removed her gloves, given to her by Jewel along with a perky straw hat to complete her outfit. The gloves were of brown cotton, soft and warm, with pearl buttons at the wrists. For some strange reason, the outfit seemed to imbue her with a sense of invincibility. Her world had been shattered only hours ago, she recalled, marvelling at how quickly she’d pieced herself back together. In a way, Jewel had been right, she allowed. Once she’d been convinced that Rook was alive and kicking somewhere in the world, Cassie’s mind had been eased. But it was more than that, she argued with herself. She’d weathered some storms and had emerged relatively unscathed. In short, Cassie knew that she’d come to like—even to admire—herself. Looking at Boone, she smiled and realized she wasn’t the least bit nervous or uncertain in his company. This must be what it’s like to be a woman, she thought, a grown-up woman who knows how to handle a man and, what was more, knows how to live with or without one. It was a darned good feeling.
“Two cups of tea,” Boone told the waiter before turning his adoring gaze back to Cassie. “It’s wonderful to see you. My, my! You look especially beautiful today.”
Cassie lowered her gaze in a demure sweep of lashes. “I know,” she said softly, and Boone chuckled at her honesty.
“How have you been?”
“Fine.” She heard her automatic response, remembered that she was going to be herself, and took back the words. “Well, I haven’t been fine. I’ve been working my fingers to the bone and getting nowhere fast,” She frowned, thinking of the mine and all the sweat she’d poured into it for nothing.
“What’s making you frown so?”
“Oh, I was just thinking of Pa’s mine.”
“Have you been working it?”
Cassie sat back, letting the waiter interrupt by bringing them their tea in chipped china cups.
“That mine is worthless and a pain in the neck,” she said without preamble.
Boone added two spoonfuls of sugar to his tea and stirred it. “Perhaps you should sell the mineral rights. The bank would certainly consider it.” His gaze lifted briefly to hers. “I’d even buy them personally to help you out.”
She regarded him tenderly for a few moments, touched that he would be so gallant as to give her money for a gaping hole. “That’s kind of you, but I can’t accept such a generous offer. It wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t be honest.”
“Why not? It would be a straightforward business venture.”
“I like you too much to sell you rights to a mine that’s not worth a silver dollar. There’s nothing in it that’s valuable and—”
“Don’t be so hasty,” Boone cautioned with a kind smile that reached her heart and made her begin to believe in someone again. “You don’t know that the mine is worthless.”
“Boone, please,” she said, laughing a little at his insistence. “I can’t take money from you.”
“But Shorty believed in it. He found something in there that had him leaping for the moon.” Boone reached into his pocket and withdrew some money, which he dropped onto the table to pay for their tea. “Selling the mineral rights would see you through the rest of the year, wouldn’t it?” He looked at her, then sat back as if he’d been hit. “What is it, Cassie? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Cassie forced her sharp gaze away from him and across the length of the coffee shop. Besides the waiter, there were only three other people in the shop and they were at the other end of it.
“Where’d you hear that?” Cassie asked softly, trying to keep her voice level and bland.
“Hear what?”
“That my pa had found something in the mine.” She swung her gaze back to him in time to see beads of perspiration appear on his forehead. Boone made a pretense of wiping moisture from his auburn mustache with his
handkerchief, but Cassie knew that inside he was scrambling for a suitable answer.
“I can’t rightly recall,” he finally said. “Must have heard it here in town. Maybe Shorty said something to me. I just can’t remember.” He turned innocent eyes on her. “Why? Is it important?”
“No, I guess not.” She shrugged, trying hard to appear nonplussed. “Pa always told me that the mine was played out.”
“Then why was he mining it?”
“Well, he wasn’t quite right in the head there at the end. He’d say the mine was nothing but dirt, then he’d go in there and whack away at it like he expected to find a fortune in gold.”
“I’m sure it holds nothing of value,” Boone said; then he leaned forward a little. “Aren’t you?”
Cassie directed her attention to her teacup, lifting it and draining its contents. She picked up her gloves and smoothed them over her trembling hands. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”
“Then you’ll think about selling the mineral rights to me?”
“Why should I? I like you, Boone. I wouldn’t never take advantage of you like that.”
“But I want to help!” He covered her gloved hands with one of his. “Let me help, Cassie.”
“You are helping just by being so kind to me.” She pulled her hands out from under his and looked out the window. “I got to be going now. Come and see me when you get time.”
“I will,” he promised, helping her from her chair.
They walked outside together and across the street. Boone handed her into the buckboard, then stood back and gave her a sweet smile.
“Think about my offer, Cassie.” He held up a hand to halt any protest she might make. “I know I’m riding this, but I just want to help and this is one legitimate way I can. So the mine is worthless.” He shrugged and stepped up onto the sidewalk. “Let me buy the property then. We can work something out. It’s nothing to fret about.”
“Thanks, Boone.” Cassie gathered up the reins and lifted the brake. “I’ll think on it.” She flicked the reins and Hector started off with a jangle of bit and harness.
A hard, tight ball grew in her chest as she let Hector pick his way along the street until he finally reached the open country road that would take him to his new home. Cassie let the reins lie loosely in her hands. The road was rough and she felt every bump on the hard plank seat, but she was hardly aware of the discomfort.
She’d trusted him. Trusted him when she hadn’t even trusted Rook. She would have sworn that he didn’t have a bad bone in his body, that he didn’t have an evil thought in his mind. Rook was right. She hadn’t really known Boone—couldn’t have begun to glimpse his real intentions. His pretty words had turned her head and made her shut her ears to the truth. She’d been so impressed by his gentlemanly ways and his ardent speeches that she hadn’t let herself wonder why he was suddenly so interested in her. Even when Rook had voiced his doubts about Boone, she’d hated Rook instead of what he’d implied.
“You’ve been a damned fool,” she said, feeling the hard knot in her throat tighten. “You may dress better and take more baths and talk more like a lady, but you’re still no catch. A penniless, uneducated spitfire,” she said, repeating Rook’s description.
Tears filled her eyes and she looked up at the sky. It was getting late. In another hour it would be dark.
“Where are you, Rook?” she asked the twilight. “You was right about him. I shoulda trusted you from the start instead of that wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
She lifted a gloved hand and wiped aside her tears. Boone Rutledge was after the mine and what might be in it. Shorty had told him about it. There was no way he could have heard about it in town, because Shorty didn’t talk to anyone in town—ever—except for Jewel, and Jewel wouldn’t have betrayed a confidence. Cassie was flabbergasted at the thought that her pa had spoken to Boone about it. Boone had been sneaking around the place for some time without her knowledge. He’d told her as much. Said he was friends with Shorty.
Cassie thought back, recalling the only time she could remember Boone visiting in the weeks before Shorty’s death. Boone hadn’t said more than a dozen words to her, but he’d talked and joked with Shorty. He’d taken Shorty off with him, leaving Cassie at the house. When Shorty came back home hours later he was tipsy. He’d said that Boone had brought some whiskey and they’d “shared a few swallers.”