Authors: Kat Martin
Then he heard her footsteps, caught the single soft sob in her throat. He turned in time to catch her against him, to wrap his arms around her and feel her arms go around his neck. When she pressed her face against his, he felt the wetness of her tears on his cheek, mingled with his own. He kissed her fiercely, passionately, a last kiss that was all of himself he had to give. Then, as if by agreement, they pulled away. She turned, shoulders straight, and walked to her bedroom.
And he closed the door behind him.
Chapter 18
C
HUCK
D
AWSON PUSHED
open the door to Blue Mountain Mining Company headquarters.
“Well, we’ve found her.” He smiled at Dolph Redmond who sat behind his mahogany desk, smoking a thin cigar.
“Where is she?” Redmond leaned forward. “Time’s running a little too short to suit me.”
“We think she’s in San Francisco.”
“
Think?”
he shouted. “By this time, you damn well better know!”
“We’re doing the best we can, Dolph. The woman just disappeared.”
“What about Morgan? Couldn’t you get a line on him?”
“Well, that’s just it. When we hired Morgan, we wrote to him at a post office box in San Francisco. Ada Lowery has a sister there named Isabelle Chesterfield, and the station-master here in Keyserville says he’s pretty sure that was the destination on Elaina’s ticket. Damned fool couldn’t remember the first time we asked him.”
“Have you talked to Ada again?” Dolph asked.
“Yeah, I’ve talked to her till I’m blue in the face. The old lady refuses to confirm or deny anything. Says she didn’t know a thing about Elaina’s plans. I’ve threatened to fire her—and worse, but she still won’t talk.”
“Well, be careful. Ada Lowery does a damn good job over there. We’d be hard pressed to find anybody more capable. The woman makes us money. We’ll find the McAllister girl with or without Ada’s help.”
Chuck smiled. “I’m leaving for San Francisco in the morning. I’ll find the Chesterfield woman, or Morgan. One of them will lead us to the girl.”
“They’d better, or money or no money, we’ll have to make the old lady talk.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ll wire you as soon as I reach the coast. I’m takin’ Andy Johnson and Bill Sharp with me. We’ll find Elaina and bring her back.”
“I have every confidence in you, Chuck.” Dolph sat back in his tufted leather chair and propped his fine-grained boots on the desk.
“I’ll keep you posted.” Chuck closed the door softly behind him. He clenched his fists as he strode toward his horse. San Francisco. He should have known the little bitch would head straight for her lover. Well, she and Morgan made an error when they underestimated Chuck Dawson. Elaina McAllister had promised to be his wife, and one way or another, she’d keep her word. The final paperwork on the sale of the mine was to take place July 10. By then Chuck planned to be a happily married man—and the proud owner of half the Blue Mountain Mine.
“Well, my boy, did you get your friend’s problem resolved to your satisfaction?” Jacob Stanhope sat in the parlor of Ren’s town house overlooking the blue waters of the San Francisco Bay.
Ren had been back for over a week, but had avoided any contact with Jacob. Even now he had trouble meeting the older man’s eyes. “I’m afraid there was little I could do to help after all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?” Ren smiled. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you, Jacob? You know, I haven’t forgotten the way you helped me get started.”
“You had your own money, son. I just helped you make it grow.” He scratched the graying hair at his temple. “You did a lot more than that. I’d probably have lost most
of it if I hadn’t met you. I had no idea how to invest. I’d have been an easy mark for just about anybody.”
Jacob Stanhope laughed heartily, his deep voice resonating across the room. “You, my boy, were never an easy mark. You’d have educated yourself about investing just as you did everything else. You once told me you had very little formal education till you were well into your teens. After you left the East, you spent every spare minute learning, schooling your brother as well as yourself. That’s what I admire about you, son. Your determination to make something of yourself, better yourself. You’ve got character, Ren. You’re a man of action and forcefulness. Qualities I see dying off in my family.
“Melissa is the sweetest child alive,” he continued, “but she’s got no stamina. I need grandsons who’ll take over for me. Strong men. The kind of men your young loins could produce.”
Ren grinned broadly at Jacob’s uncharacteristically long speech. “Somehow I don’t think Melissa would appreciate our discussing her as if she were a brood mare.”
Jacob frowned. “No, I don’t suppose she would. That’s the one thing that worries me about this marriage.”
Ren uncrossed his legs and looked at Jacob, his hopes beginning to rise. “What’s that, Jacob?”
“You two are so different. I just pray you’ll be able to make each other happy. I’d hate to think the two of you were just going through with this for my sake.”
Ren’s chest tightened. Now was his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. He could tell Jacob what was in his heart: that the woman he loved was not a sweet, fairskinned child but a woman with rich dark hair and passions that matched his own.
“But I suppose that’s a foolish thought,” Jacob was saying. “A man takes a woman to wife because he needs the alliances she creates. You and Melissa. Your drive and ambition, my power and name. The two of us will be unstoppable.”
Ren stood up and moved to the sideboard to pour himself a drink and give himself time to find the right words. “Brandy?”
“Maybe I’d better,” Jacob said. “I’ve got something else to tell you.”
Ren poured a small amount of golden Napoleon brandy into each of two small crystal snifters, giving his friend a chance to speak, but eager to resolve the matter of his marriage. He’d been planning since his arrival to find a way to dissolve his engagement. He handed a snifter to Jacob, who inhaled the rich aroma as he warmed the glass between his palms.
“Sit down, son.”
Ren sat back down in the dark green overstuffed chair.
“There’s no easy way to say this, Ren, so I’ll just come out with it. I’m afraid my heart’s in worse condition than I thought.”
Ren leaned forward. “What do you mean? Just how bad is it, Jacob?”
“The doctor says if I’m careful, don’t exert myself too much, don’t drink too much of this stuff”—he lifted his glass—“I may live a couple more years.”
“Surely it can’t be that bad. You look so healthy.”
“I’m afraid it is.” He pulled from his coat pocket a small glass bottle filled with tiny pills. “Glycerin tablets. I carry them with me at all times, just in case. . . .”
Ren tried unsuccessfully to hide the stricken look on his face.
“Don’t feel so bad, son,” Jacob was saying. “I’ve lived my life to the fullest. I have no regrets.”
Ren had trouble finding his voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Doctors can be wrong, Jacob. We’ll get a second opinion. We’ll—”
“Don’t talk nonsense, boy. We both known the doctor’s right. My heart condition has been getting worse for years. That’s one reason this marriage is so important to me. I want my little girl looked after; I want her safe and secure. I know you’ll take care of her.”
Ren turned away. He closed his eyes and gripped the brandy glass so hard he feared it might shatter. Then he opened his eyes and downed half the fiery liquid in a single gulp.
“You know I’ll do my best for her,” he promised, pushing thoughts of his own happiness aside.
“I know you will, son. Now we’ll speak no more unpleasantries. I’ve got to be going. Melissa and I will expect you for dinner on my birthday. I’ve got some out-of-town business. Won’t be back much before then. Be sure to remind Tommy and Carrie that they’re invited.”
“I will.” Ren struggled to keep his voice even.
“It should be an interesting evening,” Jacob said. “I’ve invited some friends from the old days. I get damned sick and tired of San Francisco society. Thank God I have enough money so that I can tell them to go hang once in a while.”
Ren felt the tug of a smile and realized again why he thought so highly of Jacob Stanhope. “Sounds like my kind of evening.”
“Let’s hope Melissa finds it as amusing as we do.” He winked and slapped Ren on the back. They started toward the door.
“Don’t bother, my boy, I know the way. I look forward to seeing you at the party.”
Jacob let himself out, and Ren tossed down the rest of his brandy, stilling the slight tremor in his hand. After refilling the crystal snifter, he carried it over to the settee and tried unsuccessfully to force thoughts of Jacob’s illness—and images of Elaina McAllister—from his mind. He’d come so close. So very close. But with Jacob’s illness to consider, there was no way out now. He wondered where Elaina was. What was she doing. Was she trying to forget him in Chase Cameron’s more than eager arms? Even after Ren’s marriage, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her.
Work. Good, honest, hard work was what he needed. He would spend some time out at the ranch. With grim determination, he downed the second brandy and headed for the stairs.
Elaina endured the endless nights of singing, the crowds of drunken miners with their crude, lusty gibes, the days that seemed more endless than the nights. It was the loneliest, most miserable time of her life. With Ren gone, she tried to bury herself in her job, tried to keep some of her goals in mind, even allowed Chase Cameron to play a larger and larger role in her life.
Nothing worked. All she thought about was Ren. Where was he? What was he doing? Did he ever think of her? No matter how hard she fought it, he was always there.
Curled up on the settee, she opened an issue of
Harper’s Bazaar
that Delsey had given her. Delsey had finally agreed to marry Willie Jenkins, and Elaina was thrilled. She felt, if nothing else, she’d accomplished something while she’d been in Central City. At least she’d been able to help two people she cared about find happiness. She wished she could find a little of her own.
She thumbed through the magazine, glad for the distraction. She had two hours before she would be forced to make her way backstage to begin her nightly routine. She wondered why the miners never tired of her singing. She knew she wasn’t that good. But they applauded louder and filled the room a little fuller at each performance. Chase was pleased no end. He’d been gone for over a week, inspecting other saloons he owned in other towns. But he was due back today or tomorrow. Elaina found herself looking forward to his return, if only for a break in the monotony.
A gentle tap at the door drew her attention. With a weary sigh, she opened it, though now it was secured by a thick chain that allowed her to see her caller before she let him in.
“Richard!” She recognized Richard Marley in an instant even though he now stood before her clean-shaven, wearing a well-pressed brown-striped suit and holding a small bouquet of ox-eye daisies. She unhooked the chain. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thank you,” he replied a little shyly, handing her the flowers.
“You look more like your old self, Richard. Are things going better for you?” His hair was freshly washed, cut short, and neatly combed, and he wore shiny new brown shoes.
“
Us
, Miss McAllister. Things are going better for
us
.”
Elaina smiled indulgently. “Please, Richard, call me Elaina.”
“I’d be proud to call one of the wealthiest women in the state of Colorado by her first name.” He grinned at the confusion on her face.
“Richard, what are you talking about? Are you feeling all right?”
“I assure you, Miss . . . Elaina, I’ve never felt better in my life. Hold out your hand.”
She did as she was told, still bewildered by Richard Marley’s strange behavior. He pulled a brown leather pouch from his inside coat pocket and poured a heap of bright yellow gold dust into her palm. Her hand trembled slightly. “Richard?”
“Yes, ma’am, we struck it rich!”
“You found gold?” she asked, still incredulous.
“Lots of gold. More gold than you and I will ever need.”
“But how? When? Where?”
“The Golden Duchess Mine. That’s what I named her— golden for all the gold she’ll produce and duchess for you. That’s what you seemed like to me when you handed me that money. She’s the same mine I told you about, the one I’ve been workin’ all along—partner.” He seemed to be enjoying her confusion.
“Partner? But I couldn’t take . . . I mean, I wasn’t the one who did all the work.” She ran her fingers through the gold in her palm. It felt heavy and cold, yet her palm fairly burned with the heat of her excitement.
“If it hadn’t been for you, Elaina, there wouldn’t have been any strike. I couldn’t have lasted two more days. My boys were hungry, my mules broken down. Elaina, this strike is half yours, and I mean to see that you take it.”
“Oh, Richard!” She threw her arms around his neck, taking care not to let go of the gold in her hand, and hugged him tightly. Tears of happiness gathered in her eyes. “What do we do now?”
“Well, we’ve got several alternatives.”
As he talked, she poured the gold back into the pouch and led him to the settee.
“We can either sell the mine outright,” he said, “and take our money and run, or you can sell just your share, or we can continue to work the mine ourselves.”
“It’s up to you, Richard. I’m just a partner—a silent partner. ”
He grinned, liking her confidence in him. “We’ll make the most if we operate the mine ourselves. I’ve already mined enough gold to keep us in high style for the next year or so, and I’ve only been at it a few weeks.”
He caught her smile, then noticed the tiny crinkle of a frown. “What’s that frown for?”
“Nothing,” she lied, forcing a smile.
“We’re partners, Elaina. Partners tell each other the truth.”
She felt a little guilty. “Well, it’s just that . . . I was hoping to leave Central City, go on to San Francisco, as I’d planned.” Though God knows I may suffer for it, she added to herself.