Miracle Jones (29 page)

Kelsey laughed.
“I’ll take my chances.” She was whisked across the dance floor without further ado, a whirling magenta cloud.

Miracle glanced at Harrison.
He was leaning against one of the grange hall posts, his hands thrust in his pockets, his expression not encouraging in the least.
He met her gaze with bland green eyes.
“You look –” he began.
She held her breath, waiting for him to finish.
“Astounding.”

“What does that mean?”

“Only that you’ve caught the attention of everyone in this room.” He straightened.
“Do you have your knife under there?” he asked, pointing to her flowing skirts.

Miracle flushed.
“No.”

“Why not?
God knows you look lovely enough for some rapist to take advantage of you.”

“I told you it wasn’t rape,” she hissed, glancing anxiously over her shoulder.

“What was it then?”

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her.
Even with his words of love for Kelsey still ringing in her ears, she knew she had to take away his guilt.
“I – desired you, and you were – under the effects of Uncle Horace’s elixir, so I – took advantage of you.”

“Horse shit,” he mocked softly, his gaze dropping to the swells of her breasts.
“Let’s dance.”

He dragged her onto the dance floor, pulling her into his arms, Miracle was aware of a sea of faces along the walls, all seemingly watching them.
Harrison kept a circumspect distance between them, however, and she relaxed.
Except that the feel of his hand at her waist was in the forefront of her mind.
There was something lean, supple, and catlike about the way he moved – a Danner trait, she mused somewhat bitterly; Tremaine had exhibited the same feline grace.

On the sidelines, Jace Garrett watched Miracle and Harrison attentively, though he took great pains to appear as if he weren’t.
Emerald, however, fairly shivered with injustice.

“Danner’s mistress,” she crowed on a soft laugh.
“Do you hear what they’re saying?” She swept a glance to the front line of the Ladies Aid Society.

“Who the hell cares?” Jace growled.

“She’s Harrison Danner’s mistress, and she’s stolen his attention from Kelsey.
She’ll be the shame of the town.”

“Harrison Danner wouldn’t dare,” was Jace’s only comment.
But hell, there was something incredibly earthy about Miracle that invited a man’s lust.
If she wasn’t Harrison’s mistress, she ought to be.

He slid a glance at his wife.
Emerald’s dark eyes danced with malicious delight.
But for a wildly passionate creature, she was certainly a cold lump in bed.
Once she’d been interested in him, but that brief flare of passion had soon subsided, and Jace, having suspected all along that wives didn’t make good lovers, had gone back to his philandering ways.

Not that Emerald had been such a model of propriety before their marriage, either, Jace had learned to his disgust.
She hadn’t been a virgin when they married, even though he’d plucked her from the arms of her wealthy family in Malone.
No, there’d been another man first, one she wouldn’t discuss to this day, but if she’d even seen her lover again Jace didn’t know how.
Emerald’s behavior had been scrupulous.
The spark of passion that had once ruled her had obviously just burned out.

Kelsey appeared, gasping for breath, her eyes full of laughter.
“Billy’s fast on his feet!”

“I see Harrison’s dancing with Miracle Jones,” Emerald was quick to point out.

Kelsey regarded her with irritation.
“Harrison and I have ended our engagement.
He can dance with whom he chooses.”

“What?”
Jace thundered, so loudly that heads turned in his direction.
He gripped Kelsey by the arm and hauled her to the back of the room.

“Get your hands off me!” she hissed, furious.

“Who broke the engagement?
Danner?”

“It was a mutual decision.
We –”

“The hell it was!” He shook her, and was rewarded with a stomp on his highly polished black shoes.
“Danner broke the engagement, didn’t he?
Don’t lie to me, Kelsey.”

“I was in complete agreement,” she answered coolly, but Jace had heard enough.
He strode across the room, his mind full of the humiliating treatment he’d received at Tremaine Danner’s hands, ready to do battle with Harrison, who it appeared was running true to Danner form.

But he stopped short upon seeing the way Danner’s gaze was narrowed on Miracle Jones.
Jesus, the man was smitten.
Jace knew enough about those feelings himself to recognize them in someone else.
Once, a long time ago, he’d wanted Lexington Danner so badly it had kept him awake nights.
He’d suffered at her hands; the Garretts were not about to suffer again.

He would make all the Danners pay when the time was right.

Chapter Thirteen

The memory of Harrison’s strong arms around her played havoc with Miracle’s good sense over the next few days.
She couldn’t get the thought of it from her mind.
And it didn’t matter that once their dance had ended he left her.
He also left Kelsey.
Miracle had stayed long enough to watch Kelsey go home with Emerald and Jace.
And though Harrison hadn’t asked Miracle to dance again, she’d felt him watching her through the rest of that evening.
She was beginning to understand him well enough to know exactly what was on his mind.

Maybe he wouldn’t marry Kelsey.
He hadn’t married Isabella, and, by all accounts, she was the woman he’d been so taken with in his youth.
From bits of gossip and remarks Harrison himself had made, she’d learned that he and Kelsey’s proposed marriage was more a matter of Danner-Garrett convenience than a union of passion.

Incredible.
Especially after the way, Kelsey looked at the dance.
Especially after the endearment Miracle had overheard Harrison murmur to her.
But passion was a strange beast, it seemed.
Though Kelsey and Harrison seemed suited to each other, there were obvious problems.
Miracle’s instincts told her so.

She was lost in thought behind the counter, when two customers, a man and a woman, walked through the door and purchased several herbs and a bottle of Uncle Horace’s elixir.
The man gave Miracle a dirty smile as he left, and she was reminded of Gil, the bounty hunter.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own preparations for the dance that she’d neglected to tell Uncle Horace.

“Uncle Horace,” she said now as he came downstairs, whistling tunelessly, looking almost respectable in a clean white shirt and a pair of new suspenders, his hair freshly combed, his gold tooth gleaming as he grinned a “good morning” to her.

“What, Miracle, my girl?”

She launched into her tale about Gil.
Uncle Horace listened attentively and said, “Seems to me, since you told him to see the sheriff there isn’t much more you can do.”

“I just don’t like it.
I didn’t like
him.”

“Bounty hunters isn’t that likable as a whole, I reckon.
They’re not much above criminals, as far as I can tell.”

The shop door opened again, and Miracle looked up, her eyes widening in alarm.
But it was only one of Uncle Horace’s new friends from the Half Moon, weaving a little unsteadily as he made his way toward an upended crate.
Miracle caught him by the arm a second before he crashed into their makeshift table.

“Durn fool.” Uncle Horace glared at him.

“I’ve been talkin’ to Mr.
Roarke at the Half Moon, and he told me you was lookin’ fer yer pa,” the man wheezed out to Miracle as he thumped down on the crate.
He grinned lopsidedly.
“I had me an Injun woman once.
About the right time to make you my daughter.
Thought maybe I could be the one you’re lookin’ fer.”

Uncle Horace made a sound of total disgust.
“Not a chance, Ezra!”

“Sure, and why not?
She was quite a woman,” he added, as if this would somehow strengthen his case.
“Hot-blooded.
Yessir, I liked her a lot.”

Miracle didn’t know whether to be repulsed or amused.
“My father was supposed to be quite wealthy.”

“I got some money.”

“Not enough, Ezra.” Uncle Horace growled.
“Miracle’s father wore the best clothes, not shiny, dirty ones like those.” He flicked a scornful glance at Ezra’s breeches and shirt.
It was anyone’s guess how long it had been since they’d seen a washing.
“He always carried money.
Lots of it.”

“I got some money.” He turned out his pockets, and a few coins jangled to the floor.

“A lot more’n that’ll be needed!
I got a description of her pa, and believe me, you ain’t him!”

“It was nice of you to try and help,” Miracle told him kindly, to which Uncle Horace looked downright horrified.

Ezra sighed in disappointment.
“Ah, well.
I woulda been proud to be your papa.”

A part of Miracle almost wished he were.
It would at least answer a burning question for her.
No one else in Rock Springs seemed likely to be the man she sought.

Later, after Ezra had weaved his way back to the Half Moon, Miracle grabbed Uncle Horace’s arm, stopping him from making the same trip, and said, “We’ve been here long enough to find my father.
I don’t believe he’s in Rock Springs, if he ever was.”

“Maybe not,” Uncle Horace agreed.
“Are you anxious to leave, then?
Business has been mighty good.”

Thoughts of Harrison flitted across her mind.
“I’d like to stay a while longer,” she admitted.
“But I think I’ll quit asking about my father.”

“We’ll find him someday.
You’ll see.”

She watched him walk across the street toward the Half Moon.
Sighing, she wondered if there was any chance left that he could be right.

¤   ¤   ¤

Jace Garrett leaned back in his chair in his office behind the Half Moon Saloon, his thoughts dark and dangerous where Harrison Danner was concerned.
Kelsey, blast her, didn’t seem to care that she’d been tossed aside like so much garbage.
Jace, however, felt differently, and when he figured out just what to do about it, he was going to have Harrison’s hide.

But some of his ire
had
cooled a bit since the night of the dance.
After all, Kelsey had been singing and smiling and acting like a bird freed from a cage.
Her attitude rattled Emerald’s nerves so badly that Jace couldn’t help being amused.
What the hell.
Kelsey only consented to marry Harrison because he was the best choice in Rock Springs; Jace had known that from the start.
There were other, more suitable men who were positively panting for a wife as well trained, beautiful, and wealthy as Kelsey.
Jace would simply find someone else, and Danner-Garrett relations be damned.
The hoped-for easing of their feud had been Eliza Danner’s wish, rest her soul; for Jace it had only been a means to wrangle some more Danner land away from them, but now he would have to find another way.

But, he would save his revenge for later.

Thrusting back his chair, Jace decided to examine the contents of his safe before he went home to his loving wife.
He counted the money quickly, checked the total against the amounts recorded in the account book his manager, Conrad Templeton, kept for him, and grunted in satisfaction.
Templeton wasn’t entirely trustworthy, and Jace routinely checked up on the Half Moon’s daily take.
Yet for his faults, Conrad was a good barman, just as Walter Pennington was a good man to have at the mercantile, and Syd Barto made Garrett Livery & Feedstore what it was.

From what Jace could tell, no one had been fiddling with the money.
The amount matched exactly.
Still, there was no harm in keeping Conrad on his toes.

He found the barman pouring a frothy mug of ale from one of the Half Moon’s casks and swapping stories with one of the saloon’s wealthiest customers, even though the man was an easy mark at poker and nine-tenths of the town’s gambling population showed up every time the old fool decided to play a round.

“The cash is short,” Jace lied baldly.

Conrad spun around, ale sloshing over the rim of the mug and wetting his sleeve.
“It can’t be!”

“Well, it is.”

“Mr.
Garrett, I swear by all that’s holy, there’s been no thieving here!”

Jace knew Conrad well enough to sense when he was telling the truth.
“Perhaps I miscounted,” he said easily.

“I’ve even saved the tips from the ladies upstairs and kept ‘em all separate,” Conrad went on hurriedly.
He reached under the bar for a tin box, flipped open the lid, and held it out for Jace’s inspection.

Jace stared down at the box in Conrad’s hands, his chest tightening as if someone were squeezing the breath from his lungs.
“Let me see that!” He grabbed the box from Conrad, ignoring the startled look on the man’s face.
“By God,” he muttered, thunderstruck, closing the lid and staring down at the smooth metal filigree work.
“Where did you get this?”

“It was left at one of the tables,” Conrad said, his brow puckering.

“Well, I don’t want you to use it anymore.” Jace was brusque.
He surprised Conrad even further by dumping the money onto the counter until coins rolled in all directions.
“Give the whores back their money.
I’m keeping the box.”

¤   ¤   ¤

“Whose box is it?” Kelsey asked, staring at the filigreed lid of the tin box as she turned it over in her hands.
The dull silver luster caught the chandelier’s light, bouncing across the highly polished floor of the Garrett entry hall.

“It’s yours,” Jace said, shaking his head in bafflement.

“Mine’s been missing since I was just a girl.
How did it get to be at the Half Moon?”

“A customer brought it in and left it.” Jace glanced from Kelsey’s tin box to the one sitting on the whatnot shelf which was affixed to a corner wall.
Lifting the box from the shelf, he compared it to Kelsey’s.
They were almost exact duplicates.
The second box was Jace’s.
A gift from his father.
Both had been specially made and given as Christmas presents when Jace and Kelsey were children.

“How odd,” Kelsey murmured, turning her box over.

With a rustle of satin, Emerald approached down the stairs.
The hair on the back of Kelsey’s neck lifted.
Emerald’s rustling skirts were like the warning of a rattler.

“What are you two conferring about?” she asked tightly.

Jace pointed to the tin box cradled in Kelsey’s palms and related how he’d come to find it.
Emerald’s dark eyes swept over the box, then their avid light dimmed.
Unless the box was jewel-encrusted, she really wasn’t interested, Kelsey decided wryly.

“Jace, I’m having trouble with Mrs.
Weatherby,” she complained.
“She’s getting all the fittings wrong.
And her daughter’s an embarrassment to decent, moral people.”

“Like yourself?” Jace asked.

Kelsey shot him a swift glance, surprised by this touch of humor.

Emerald’s face turned an ugly, mottled red.
“I want you to find me someone new.
I won’t have that sluttish Isabella working on my clothes!” With that she whipped around and stalked in high dudgeon back up the stairs.

Kelsey turned her attention back to the box, lifting its lid.
It had once been velvet-lined, but the plush fabric was long gone.
There were little nicks and scrapes in the tin, as if something metallic had rubbed against its smooth surfaces.
Coins?
Jewelry?
Where had the little box been all these years?

“What do you think it means?” she asked Jace.

“Someone stole it from us.”

“Who?”

He shook his head.
“I don’t like the idea of anyone stealing from a Garrett.
It’s bad for business.
I think I’ll talk to that sloppy fool, Raynor, and get him after the thief that left it at the Half Moon.”

“Wait!” Kelsey said when Jace reached for the box.
“Let me show it to the Danners.
Joseph’s the only one alive who would remember that Father gave the boxes to us.
If there were a robbery, or something, to explain why the box was stolen –”

“We would all know of it!” Jace snorted.

“Nevertheless, I’d like to ask,” Kelsey stubbornly insisted.