The Trailrider's Fortune (31 page)

"Rafe, we
talked about this…how you'd go in partners with me and stay on. Help me build
the spread up."

Rafe shook his
head. "
You
talked about it, Trav. I mostly sat there listenin' to
your notions. Didn't say I agreed."

"You're not
ridin' back out and hunt down whoever ambushed you." Travis planted his
feet apart and set his fists on his hips. It was the stance he took right
before he started swinging his fists.

"Didn't say I
was plannin' on that," Rafe pointed out.

"Christ.
Parker's dead. Sad, but a blessin' in disguise, if you ask me. With no back-up
man, maybe you'll finally give up the nonsense. Already got more money than
anybody could need, Rafe. Zach told me you're set."

"My money's
none of your concern."

But Travis was
building up steam. "You're finally away from the painted cats and the
damned saloons. Won't be gettin' the French pox or robbed blind by some
flirtin' doxy. Your health's comin' back. No reason you can't stay on."

"Except I
don't want to. Makes me itchy, sittin' in one spot too long. I like the trail.
You know that."

"Well, hell
no, my ranch house can't hold a candle to that bagnio in Wichita, with your
slut mistress livin' upstairs. I'll give you that," Travis fumed.
"You can play poker with the men any night of the week. Get liquor and
gals in town. Not the kind you're used to. Decent folk." Travis' eyes went
hard. "Only thing we ain't got here is trouble. Least we didn't, until you
showed up, slung over Snatch's back. You bring trouble."

"Knew you'd
see the light," Rafe nodded, rocking.

"Don't make me
sorry I patched you up."

"Little
Brother, you'll be sorry, whether I make you or not. Don't expect me to change
my whole way of thinkin' over one bushwhackin'. I miss Sam Parker every day. He
was the best friend I ever had, next to you. But you're kin and nosy as hell,
so it ain't the same. Reckon I'll find myself lookin' over my shoulder a dozen
times before I get it straight that Samson won't be back there no more."

Travis grunted in
reply.

"Before the
ambush, I got a tip Hoffman's gone to Salt Lake. Been thinkin' I'd ride out
that way once the snow's over. Maybe I'll find him, maybe not. Could settle in
Oregon or Californy."

"Californy?"
Travis spat. "You mean as in the Barbary Coast? Rowdy as any Kansas cow
town, plus you got fellas shanghaied. Anyplace wicked, where fools go sellin'
their souls to the devil, my brother wants to jump in the thick of it. Just
figures. Hoffman again," he snorted in derision. "Man's dead, or gone
down to Mexico, Rafe."

Rafe answered in a
weary voice. "Could be. Listen, I'm not goin' anywhere for a couple
months. Save your best shots, Trav. I'm plumb tucked out just now."

"What about
the other subject? Tried to step right over it, like you didn't hear me bring
up that strumpet who was claimin' to be hitched to you. Rannie says the gal
threw you over. Didn't I tell you saloon cats were trouble? Knew somethin' bad
would happen. Why can't you—"

"You know
everything, don't you? Except I don't recall you knowin' Belinda Johnson was
out to do the same to you. Want to ponder what's become of her? Maybe she's fat
as a stuffed goose by now. Maybe her old man's got warts on his knees and likes
to eat peach pie on Sundays. Want to set a spell and both of us ruminate on
what we're missin'?"

Rafe saw the answer
in his brother's glower. "Tell you what…I won't jaw about your mistakes,
if you don't dwell on mine," Rafe went on. "Don't want to hear the
name Sparkle or nothin' about her again. If you forget that, I got a couple sets
of knuckles to remind you." Rafe closed his eyes. "See you at supper,
Little Brother."

Majesta was waiting
for Sparkle and Jace when their train pulled into the depot. She came forward
to greet her husband, smiling warmly, ignoring the stares of curious onlookers
as Jace moved stiffly across the platform, cane thudding.

"Dr. Barlow's
been asking after you, Jace," she said brightly. "He was surprised
you'd make a trip so soon. I assured him Sparkle was along to look after you. I
gathered from your wire things went well?"

Jace set down his
valise. His features went taut. "You defied me, didn't you? Do you expect
me to believe he happened by the house? You've been to the hospital."

"He did come
to the house," she replied, winking at Sparkle. "He didn't know his
lady friend was out of town until he came calling."

Jace ignored her
explanation. "You took the job at the hospital, after I specifically told
you not to."

Sparkle reached for
her satchel. "It's clear you two need to talk. I'll go on home."

"Sparkle, you
understand someone has to put food on the table," Majesta announced. She
gave Sparkle a beseeching look, then faced her angry husband. "Besides,
what was I to do while you two were off gallivanting? I was bored, and they
truly need my help at the hospital. When I saw Dr. Barlow this morning, I
invited him to supper tonight."

Sparkle inwardly
groaned. Part of the reason she'd accompanied Jace to Texas was to put some
distance between herself and her ardent new suitor. Kent had pressed her into
becoming his almost constant companion. Jace and Majesta genuinely liked him,
as Sparkle herself had grown to. But she'd reached the conclusion friendship
was all she felt.

"Excellent,"
Jace grumbled as they started along the sidewalk. "When he's eaten his
fill at our dining table, you can explain you're forced to resign. He'll take
the news better after some of your chocolate layer cake."

"Be
reasonable, Jace."

"Things have
changed, my dear. We'll discuss it at home."

Now there was a
classic understatement
,
Sparkle silently noted. Things had changed for all of them. She had less reason
than ever to consider marriage to a man she didn't love, all the more to revive
her dreams of Paris. Unless, of course, one would help bring about the other.
Wouldn't the dashing and urbane Dr. Kent Barlow, with his artistic and cultural
bent, be the perfect escort to tour France with her? She might be able to
forget her previous romantic entanglement and view Kent in a different light
over coffee in a Parisian café.

Yet somehow she doubted
it.

That evening,
Sparkle donned the purple velvet gown and her glittery jewelry. She tucked her
hair up with a mother-of-pearl comb and lightly rouged her lips. Kent greeted
her with an appreciative smile. She knew he was surprised by the finery, a
marked contrast to her usual cotton day dresses. She smiled back. There would
be fewer homespun or calico garments in her future. Less scrimping, more
enjoyment of life. Tonight she had reason to celebrate.

The trip to Fire
Thorn had been a resounding success. Things had changed, all right.

"I'm pleased
to see you looking so fit, Jace," Kent remarked as they took their places
at the table. Sparkle found herself inwardly chafing. Kent was sitting in
Rafe's chair.

Rafe's chair? Do
you hear yourself? He was here once, for a few hours. He doesn't own that
damned chair.

He certainly
didn't. But it wasn't the first time she'd noticed how he seemed to leave his
stamp. Everything he touched seemed to wear his brand, including her. And
because she still wore it, Kent Barlow seemed to be trespassing.

"And doesn't
Sparkle look festive?" Jace flashed her a brilliant smile. Neither had
divulged beforehand the reason for their return to Texas. Neither had expected
the substantial sum they'd found in the rusted strongbox. They were both
beaming as their eyes met.

"Thank you.
This was one of my saloon gowns," Sparkle tossed out casually. Jace and
Majesta instantly looked stricken. A deep flush began spreading upward from
Majesta's throat. Sparkle smiled at Kent, awaiting his reaction.

"Saloon
gown?" He sounded as though one of the bones from the roast chicken had become
lodged in his throat. "I don't understand. You don't mean to say a
schoolteacher would visit a drinking establishment. Ladies don't frequent such
places."

"This one has,
and worked in a few, too. You couldn't expect me to admit that when we first
met, but since we're keeping steady company, it's time you knew the
truth."

"Kent, what
she means is…" Jace clarified, "
temporarily
between terms,
just to help make ends meet and pay for my medical care, she told fortunes in
saloons. A passing amusement for customers." Jace glared at Sparkle now.
First Majesta had openly defied him, now Sparkle. She'd confessed the truth
regarding her past employment during their trip. Jace had been adamant she not
divulge the information to her beau.

"A drinking
establishment…?" Kent cleared his throat roughly. "Or a place like
Madame Beaumont's across town?"

"Having never
set foot there myself," Jace responded defensively, "I can't say.
I've heard of the place you mentioned. I overheard some discussion amongst your
colleagues at the hospital."

"Perhaps we
should clear up any misunderstanding," Kent directed tightly. Sparkle was
pleased at the unease between the men. It wasn't what she'd intended, but it
would serve her purpose—to make this Dr. Barlow's last visit to the LaFleur
house.

"I personally
have never gone to a gentlemen's club," Kent stated, "Not that I
believe this is appropriate conversation in the presence of ladies."

Sparkle detected
the all-too-familiar scent of "Eau de Hypocrite" on Kent Barlow. He'd
never been to a gentlemen's club? Then why was he so self-righteously angry?
She'd wager the girls of Madame Beaumont's would sing a different tune.

"Perhaps you
should visit one some time," she offered, buttering a dinner roll with
studied indifference. She noticed Majesta looked ready to throw her napkin to
the floor for an excuse to crawl beneath the table..

"Though I
don't suppose here in the city
gentlemen's clubs
offer precisely the
same diversions as trailhead saloons," Sparkle continued. "The last
place I worked was called the Scarlet Lady. We had gambling:  faro, poker,
monte, the occasional cockfight out back. Then too, of course, there were rooms
upstairs in what they call the monkey hall. That aspect's probably similar to
Madame What's-Her-Name's. Although I doubt a man has to worry about ending up
in a panel crib there."

"I'm almost
afraid to ask what in God's name you're ranting about," Kent said with a
sharp edge to his tone.

She feigned a look
of surprise. Two could play ignorant. "Why, a room with a hidden panel in
the walls. Sort of a profit optimizer for the house. Customers are robbed as
well as entertained."

Jace coughed into
his napkin. Majesta went bright crimson. Kent stared at Sparkle.
"Sometimes the panel cribs are actually lovely rooms." Sparkle was
dismayed by the wistful tone in her remark. She was supposed to be acting
brazen, not turning maudlin.

Kent suddenly threw
back his head and laughed. "You had me going for a moment there, Miss
LaFleur. Panel cribs! What did you do, read about such lurid things in one of
those dime novels? How delightfully wicked and amusing you can be."

Sparkle only
smiled.
You have no idea.

Majesta jumped up,
muttering about a lemon cake in the kitchen. She all but threw four slices of
dessert onto plates, more spilled than poured the accompanying coffee. Halfway
through her own dessert, she developed a mysterious headache. Jace suggested
Sparkle take his wife upstairs.

"It's probably
nothing serious," Kent remarked, "but if you like, I could examine
her."

"That's not
necessary," Jace ground out, stabbing Sparkle with a warning glare.

"It's probably
the pressure from working so hard," she obliged. "I think Majesta's
under a strain."

"Oh?"

"Yes, well, we
can discuss that and a few other matters after the ladies have retired,"
Jace pointedly stated, still pinning Sparkle with his angry blue gaze.

"I'm not tired
yet."

Kent looked pleased
at that and moved to pull out her chair. "Good. I've had a bit of pleasant
news."

Sparkle let him
lead her into the parlor. "My father has to make a business excursion to
Chicago. On their way from Baltimore, my parents have decided to stop here for
a few days. I've put in for some time off at the hospital and was thinking of
taking them to the opera house one evening. That gown you're wearing would be
lovely. Care to join us?"

"She'd love
to," Jace snapped. "You're bearing up admirably, Sparkle, but I know
you're weary after our trip. I need to discuss a point or two about my personal
health with our physician friend. I'll see him out later. You go get a good
night's rest."

Jace had dismissed
her.

So the hellion from
Fire Thorn was back, she thought. She knew what was coming next. Jace would
tell Kent the entire saloon discussion had been another prank. She'd explained
her sentiments and doubts during their travels. Score one for Jace.