by Tracey Lyons
“We still don’t have no candy,” Jack whined, his face puckered up.
“Any candy,” Mr. Malone corrected. “You don’t have any candy. If you two can promise to behave, I just might have a peppermint stick for each of you.”
“Honest, mister?” Jack looked up at him with awe.
“Honest, Jack.” Reaching inside his coat pocket, he pulled out not one, but two red-and-white peppermint sticks.
Sara beamed as he handed them each a stick. “You like this candy, too?”
“It’s my favorite. Why don’t you go with your brother and wait in the shade for your ma and pa.”
Giving Mr. Malone a quick hug, Sara thanked him. Jack flashed a bright smile then turned to follow his sister.
“They seem to be content for the moment,” he observed, watching the two youngsters happily eating their treats.
“Yes, they do.” Hannah turned to look up at him. She was genuinely surprised to see this part of Chase Malone. Where had he learned to handle children?
He smiled warmly at her. “I seem to have a knack for dealing with children.”
“Do you come from a large family?”
“Nope. Just me and an old aunt.”
There was a longing in his words. For a fleeting moment a look of sadness crept into his eyes and then disappeared.
“I think the two of them will be safe for the time being.” He nodded toward the brother and sister happily licking the candy sticks. “Why don’t we go around front and join the others?”
“All right.” She fell into step alongside him.
As they walked to the front steps, he commented, “It was a good turnout for the meeting.”
“Everyone in the area came to see you.”
He smiled. “I’m flattered you would think that, but most people wanted to have their concerns about the mining company put to rest.”
“And do you think you did that?”
He stopped walking and looked down at her. “Yes.”
She studied his face for a moment, searching for any sign of insincerity. The only thing she saw was his clear gray eyes. There wasn’t any trace of the animosity that had filled the void between them. His words didn’t carry any of the veiled threats she’d grown used to. Today in the church and then with the McCleary children she had observed a side of him that she didn’t think existed.
“Your grandparents are waving to us.” Taking her by the elbow, he escorted Hannah to their buggy. Once there, he handed her up onto the leather seat.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Jackson.”
“Thank you, I will.” Her mouth curved into a smile. She watched as he turned and walked in long easy strides toward the hotel. It took a moment for it to sink in, but the realization finally dawned on her. She and Chase Malone had just enjoyed a brief time of civility.
As the buggy swayed over the roadway, she thought about Chase Malone. She’d observed him as a shrewd businessman on several occasions, but today he’d shown her a tender, caring side that she hadn’t thought he possessed.
She lifted her face to feel the warmth of the sun upon her cool skin. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; she found both sides of the man to be equally intriguing.
Chapter Four
Chase nudged the stallion with his knee, pushing the mount deeper into the woods. It was already close to nine o’clock in the morning. If he didn’t hurry he’d be late.
He slowed the pace of the horse as he came to the place where the solid rock ledge began. The horse pawed at the hard earth as they stopped in a shallow alcove. Squinting his eyes into the morning sun, Chase sat tall in the saddle and waited for the man he’d come to meet to approach him.
“Malone.” The terse greeting was spoken in a voice as rough as the newly mined garnet.
“Good morning, Radley.”
Radley, with his bushy gray whiskers and starched black suit, looked out of place in this wilderness. He shifted uneasily in the saddle.
“Something the matter, sir?” Chase grinned.
“Seems I found a patch of poison ivy.” Radley scowled. “I hate coming into these woods, always leave here with some sort of a rash.” He readjusted himself in the saddle. “I see the crew has arrived.”
“Yesterday. I was just heading out that way now. Would you care to join me?” Chase enjoyed baiting the man he’d taken orders from for close to eight years.
“Malone, if you weren’t so good at this business I’d have you transferred to someplace dry and hot, with no booze, and no women.” Radley reached around to scratch his backside. “Damnation!”
“I don’t have all day. Is there a message?”
“The US Customs Service came across some questionable ruby stones a while back. They were doing a routine inspection at the port down in New York City when they happened upon a box with the stones in it. To make a long story short, they weren’t rubies at all, they were garnets. Customs thinks that the Tyler Mining Company is passing off the garnets as rubies. However, they need to have proof of this and that, my boy, is where you come in. We need you to stay on here.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes to bring Tyler to justice.”
Chase sighed in frustration.
“Is there a problem, Malone?”
“Hannah Jackson.”
The older man’s face twitched into a smile. “A lady. Since when haven’t you known how to handle a lady?”
“This lady is getting in the way. Miss Jackson is on a one-woman crusade to run Tyler Mining and yours truly out of town. I’ve tried to threaten her, scare her off.”
“Has it done any good?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” Chase answered glumly.
“Well, now, it seems to me the two of you will have to learn to get along.” Radley’s smile disappeared. “You make this work, Malone, and that’s an order. Customs wants Tyler real bad. They—or should I say we—would like to bring him up on smuggling charges.”
Chase reached into his coat pocket and took out a thin cigar, inhaling deeply as he lit the end. Words spoken by his aunt came to mind. From the time she’d taken him into her home she’d made it clear that the one important rule in life was to finish whatever task you took on. He’d carried that sense of loyalty throughout his life. This time wouldn’t be any different, he thought as he blew smoke out into the warm air. “I’ll see what can be done.”
Radley nudged his horse, moving in closer to Chase and looked him square in the eye. “I want this done the right way. If that means having an involvement with Miss Jackson—” He shrugged. “—then so be it. There could be worse assignments.”
Chase’s gaze didn’t waver from Radley’s watery brown eyes. He didn’t want a relationship with Hannah Jackson. It would only complicate matters. “I’ll keep you posted on my progress.”
“Yeah, that’s another thing, you have a new contact. Sheriff Curtis. I’ll be leaving this lovely area and going back to the city. There will be no further communications between us. When the job is completed to the Custom Department’s satisfaction, I’ll contact you with the balance of your pay. Good luck, Mr. Malone.”
Before Chase could say another word, Radley turned and headed back down the narrow dirt path.
He clenched his jaw tight—not only did he have to work with the sheriff, but it seemed he was to court Hannah Jackson, as well. All the time spent cultivating Hannah’s distrust for him would have to be undone. He tossed the burnt out cigar stub on the ground. This was one of the toughest assignments he’d ever had with Customs. Adjusting his hat, Chase sighed as he coaxed the Appaloosa down the path.
With the exception of this particular one, most of his cases were short-lived. He’d almost had this wrapped up last year when Tyler had suspected someone was on to him and Chase had been ordered by Radley to back off. He’d been sent back to New York City where he’d successfully kept his cover as an agent for Tyler Mining Company. Now, after months of groundwork setting the trap, he was
finally closing in on Tyler and his scheme to pass off the garnets as priceless rubies.
The smell of cured bacon filled the air as he came in sight of the mining camp. The men were just finishing the first hour’s work and taking a break for a mid-morning meal of bacon and flapjacks. He nudged his mount forward, and within a few minutes entered the camp.
This camp was similar to the one Tyler had at Maple Gorge. A long building served as both bunkhouse and dining hall. Near the base of the trail leading to the mine site stood a small explosives shack. A mile up from the camp was the mine. Chase had chosen this site, located at the back of the McCleary property, himself. He wanted the men well out of town. The miners were a rough crew and it was best to keep them away from the townspeople, as well as off the McCleary homestead.
Dismounting, he tied the horse to a hitching rail outside of the dining hall then greeted a few of the men as they straggled back for some food. Most of them were already covered with a thick layer of the gray Adirondack dust. The foreman made his way toward the camp just as Chase finished giving his horse some grain.
“Malone, see you came up just in time for some grub.”
Chase eyed the large ox of a man, amazed at his size. Amos Smithson was probably six and a half feet tall, with a thick mane of blond hair, and a full beard that covered almost all of his face.
Chase pulled himself to his full height, but his head reached only the top of Smitty’s chest. “I didn’t come to eat. I wanted to see how you were getting along.” When Amos took a menacing step toward him, Chase didn’t move.
“We’re just fine, Malone. We don’t need the likes of you coming around here checkin’ up on us. Tyler left me in charge of the men,” Smitty growled.
Smitty’s fist clenched tightly at his side. Though wary of the man, Chase looked him square in the eye. “I’m in charge of this mining operation. You’d do best to remember that fact.”
He walked by Amos. “I’d like to look at the mine.”
“Ain’t done much up here yet.”
“I’d like to see the progress for myself.” He continued up the hillside, aware of Amos’s resentment.
After a ten-minute hike he arrived at the back-side of the mountain. One glance and he knew they were farther along than Amos wanted him to believe. The back of the mountain had been blown open, exposing the dusty jagged rock. The crew had cut away large chunks of it.
He knelt down next to a pile of debris and picked up a piece of the rough stone. The charcoal-colored rock was embedded with the wine-colored garnets. He ran his thumb over a divot where a fairly decent sized garnet had lain, and wondered if Tyler’s crew wasn’t already off somewhere polishing the stone to shine like a ruby. Only a small percentage of the garnets could pass in clarity for rubies. A few were all it took to make a decent amount of money off the counterfeit.
Tossing the piece aside, he stood and looked at the hole that had been blown into the hill. He guessed it was about two hundred feet wide. He tipped his head back and looked up the rough slope to the top of the mountain. It was about one hundred feet up, a good climb to get to the top. He knew that in time the cut in the mountain would be three times as wide and still it would cover only a quarter of the size the mine would eventually become.
The sun reflecting off of her barrette caught his attention. She stood snug against a large boulder at the top of the mountain. He grinned and suppressed the urge to wave. Hannah Jackson certainly was doing her best to keep track of him. He continued to stare at her and then she was gone.
“Looks pretty good, don’t it?” Smitty stood an arm’s length away.
Chase turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The wind blowing in a southerly direction carried the rank scent of Amos’s unwashed body to him, making Chase’s nostrils flare in distaste.
“Looks fine.” Chase replied, without turning to look at him.
“That’s it? You ain’t got nothing more to say?”
Chase shook his head and walked past him, heading back down the footpath. Amos grunted. It was hard for Chase to tell if the man was satisfied or dissatisfied with the brief inspection. One way or the other, he didn’t care. The better part of the day was still ahead and he had to figure a way into Miss Jackson’s good graces.
After leaving the camp Chase headed back down the rutted roadway. Once again he was struck by the density of the woods. He imagined if a person got lost they would never be found. He came to a fork in the road, to the right was town, to the left the trail which, after a spell, led to the Jackson homestead. Taking a chance, he reined his mount to the left.
The air was heavy with the scent of the pink honeysuckle lining the trail. The only sound other than an occasional snort from his mount was the buzz of the honeybees and the chatter of chipmunks. Chase grew impatient with all the serenity. He found himself longing for the hustle and bustle of the city.
He rode across the Jackson homestead. Hannah’s grandfather was stacking wood near a large red barn.
Matthew Jackson stacked the last piece of wood. “Hello, Mr. Malone.”
He approached the man. Matthew Jackson, a good three inches shorter than himself, looked every bit the mountain man with his grizzled features, his skin wrinkled from the long years of exposure to the harsh weather of the mountains. Thick white hair poked out from underneath the brim of his floppy felt hat. Mr. Jackson’s hazel eyes held the warmth of his smile as he waited for Chase to join him.
“Good day, Mr. Jackson.”
“Please, call me Matthew.” The older man extended his rough, work worn hand in greeting. “Looks to me like you’ve been riding a good while.”
He looked down at his horse and realized with some embarrassment the animal had been worked into a lather and needed a long drink of water.
“I guess I lost track of the time. I rode over from the McCleary mine.” He dismounted, shook Matthew’s hand and followed him to the water trough alongside the barn.
“How’s it going over there?” Matthew asked, wiping his brow with a red handkerchief.
“I’d say the crew is working right on schedule.”
“Bet that’s going to make your boss a happy man.” Matthew stuffed the damp cloth back into his pants pocket.
Chase shrugged. “I suppose Tyler will be pleased with the progress.” He knew Radley would feel the same way.
“You don’t sound too happy about that. Something on your mind, Chase?”
Chase looked down at his feet and then back to Matthew Jackson. “There’s a lot of work still to be done, that’s all.” He wondered how Matthew Jackson would feel if he knew Chase worked as an agent for the government. Damn, this job kept getting more complicated with each passing minute!
A screen door slammed shut and both men turned toward the house.
“Why, Mister Malone—it’s so good to see you again, and just in time for some lunch!” Clara Jackson wiped her hands on her white apron as she made her way across the yard, asking, “Has that granddaughter of ours come back yet?”
“Afraid I haven’t seen any sign of her.” He looked back at Chase. “She rode out of here early this morning. A woman with a mission, that one. You know she isn’t too pleased with what you’re trying to do here. Hannah considers this her mountain—always has, always will.”
He didn’t reply to Matthew’s statement. If the man was hoping to warn him about Hannah’s resistance to Tyler Mining, he was too late.
“It’s near noon, my guess is that girl is up on her mountain. I’ll just go pack her a basket. Mr. Malone, perhaps you would be so kind as to take it up to her?”
His eyes widened in surprise as he found himself caught off guard, something which rarely happened. “Excuse me, ma’am?” Judging by the look on her face, Mrs. Jackson wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He could see where Hannah got her stubborn streak.
“You wait right here and I’ll just run along into the house. I can pack enough for the two of you. It might do you young folks good to spend some t
ime together.”
Still chattering as she made her way back across the yard, Chase could have sworn he heard her say, “Might even decide you like each other.”
Chapter Five
Hannah stood on top of the ridge, surveying the countryside that unfolded in front of her as if she were the queen of the hill. Spread out before her was the splendor of the Adirondack Mountains. She tipped her head back to watch a pair of hawks. The magnificent birds spread their wings, letting the wind carry them soaring over the sloping ridge, high above the trees and rolling hills.
God, how she loved it here! She tossed her hat on the ground near her feet, shook out her hair and lifted her face to the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze sifted through the strands of her hair, lifting them from her shoulders. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, becoming lost in the giddy feeling of being alone on the peaceful mountaintop.
Then she opened her eyes and looked down the rock ledge. Buried in the stone, glittering like jewels in the sunlight, were the garnets. She knelt, brushing her fingertips across the rough ruby-colored stone. She’d never allow Chase Malone and the damned mining company to tear the top off of this mountain—her mountain. She’d fight with every fiber of her being to keep it from happening.
She’d already seen what the sticks of dynamite could do to the land. She had ridden out to the McCleary mine early this morning. Once there, she’d witnessed firsthand the devastation of the mountain. Chase had been there, too. Hidden behind a boulder, she’d watched as he surveyed the work of his crew. He’d picked up a chunk of the dusty gray rock. She saw the way he touched the stone, coveting it. She imagined his delight at the progress the crew had made in such a short amount of time.
A sense of longing welled up inside her, the feeling so deep it frightened her. It was unbearable to think that in a few months’ time the whole face of McCleary’s mountain would be changed forever, to become another Maple Gorge. She sat down on the flat ledge.
Bringing her knees up to her chin, she folded her arms over them, resting her chin on her forearms. The heat from the afternoon sun warmed her back, bringing her little comfort. Slowly, one tear fell, then another and another. She did nothing to wipe them away letting them flow freely down her cheeks. The only other time in her life that she’d felt so helpless and miserable was after her parents’ death.