“How did you hear about us?”
“Jake McKenna.”
Bridget made a guarded sound. “Just a word of caution. I wouldn’t necessarily believe everything Jake says.”
Jake? The sound of his given name on Bridget’s lips annoyed Molly. “So you’re telling me he lied about you and Robert?”
“No, no.” Her voice sounded strained. “Look, I’m the first to admit that Jake is very fascinating, but he uses that to take advantage.”
Molly’s irritation kicked up a full notch, her heart pounding in her chest. She was beginning to think that Jake and Bridget had an amorous history, and the very notion set her nerves on edge. Was Bridget not only a rival for her brother’s affections but Jake’s as well?
“Mister McKenna didn’t take advantage of me,” Molly replied. But hadn’t he? He’d kissed her in Pedro’s tunnel, when she’d been in no shape to fend him off. But safeguarding herself from him had been the furthest thing from her mind. She’d kissed him back. A wave of shame washed over her as she viewed the indiscretion through the lens of Bridget’s assessment of Jake’s character, but she would never admit the incident to the other woman.
Feeling deflated, Molly wished to be alone. “I’m very tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Of course. I’m sure your things will be brought up shortly. Is there anything I can get you?”
“Some water?”
“I’ll have Stella bring a pitcher up for you. She’s our housekeeper.” Bridget moved to each window and pushed the curtains aside to let in the last remnants of the setting sun. “Supper is at seven. I’ll come for you a few minutes before so I can show you where the dining room is located.”
Molly nodded her thanks.
Bridget left, closing the door behind her.
Alone at last, Molly breathed a sigh of relief. She unbuttoned her jacket and removed it, setting it on a chair, then moved to the window.
She looked out over the empty holding pens and corrals behind the house. Several men milled about. Lannigan’s men. If Jake was right, none of them could be trusted.
Had she done the right thing in coming here?
A knock at the door made her jump. When she opened it, Archie greeted her with his head bobbing in a steady rhythm.
“I have your bag, Miss Simms.”
She stood back, and he deposited her satchel just past the threshold.
He glanced bashfully at her, “You look like your brother.”
“People have said that all our lives.” Archie and Bridget bore little resemblance. “Do you and your sister have other siblings?”
“No. It’s just us.”
“Is your mother here?”
“No. Bridget and I don’t have the same mothers. But there are no mothers here.”
“I’m sorry,” Molly replied, assuming they must be deceased.
He smiled, jounced his chin a few times, and then left her.
She lifted her luggage and set it upon the bed. Unlatching it, she rummaged around, but when it became clear she couldn’t locate the two items she was searching for, she turned the bag upside down and emptied the contents all at once. She probed and scanned the meager belongings she’d brought with her on her hasty escape into the mountains with Jake McKenna. Someone had been through the bag—her Colt derringer and the Chigger claim were missing.
It had to have been Winston, and he’d likely given the document to Shep Lannigan. Would he destroy it? Did it matter if he did? She didn’t know the laws governing mining claims, but surely the deed had been filed in town. She wished she could ask Jake what to do.
She sat on the edge of the bed, a sense of defeat weighing upon her.
What if Robert was truly in trouble?
What if Winston and his men hurt Jake and Pedro, or worse?
And what could she possibly do about any of it?
Chapter Eight
Jake and Pedro rode into town. Jake had recovered Fernando, and Pedro had stolen Winston’s horse. They’d bound and gagged Winston and the other four men, and left them in the homestead. Eventually they’d be found. Jake could report the detainment, as Molly had called it, to the deputy marshal, but he knew it was a waste of time.
“You need to ditch that horse, and pronto,” Jake said.
Pedro scowled and spat around the wad of tobacco bulging in his lower lip. He’d found the canister in Winston’s saddlebags and claimed it for himself.
“Who’s this Charlie you’re involved with?” Jake asked casually.
“A friend.”
“A friend that’s managed to paint a target on your back. You’re ruffling Lannigan’s feathers. Even you know that’s a bad idea.”
“Maybe I’m taking lessons from you, El Chacal.”
“You’re no boot-licker, Pedro, so quit toying with me.”
Jake guided Fernando onto Main Street, heading for his shack in Upper Creede. Pedro began in a different direction, then halted his horse and turned to Jake.
“Some of my claims have disappeared as well, amigo.”
“You mean the veins dried up?”
“No. I filed them, but the recording office no longer has them, and when I go to the claims, the stakes have been pulled. In some instances, a new boundary has been erected, similar to your Shanghai.” Pedro’s gaze was lethal. “Those bastards won’t drive me away. I’ll blow their cocks off.”
Jake had no love of Pedro—the Mexican was volatile and paranoid. It was a combination best left alone, but Jake sensed the man might be in over his head. Hell, maybe he was too. He’d thought of leaving when his partnership with Robert had broken down, but something had kept him in town.
Payback for losing the Shanghai.
His missing money.
The mountains themselves, perhaps.
No, it was the elusive Bluebird vein that tugged at him, stoking his determination and wanderlust. He would take great satisfaction in yanking it from Lannigan’s arrogant grasp.
And then there was Molly Rose Simms.
When had she entered the equation?
The moment he’d laid eyes on her.
“Be careful, Pedro.” Jake meant it, surprising himself.
The Mexican guided his stolen mount away and shook his head in disgust. “Adios, you louse-ridden polecat.”
So much for a moment of sentiment.
Jake dropped his horse at the livery, then he walked to his tiny house that sat on a narrow plat of land up against Willow Creek. A small kitchen and sitting area were divided by a single bed with a curtain. Nothing fancy, but it was home. A shared outhouse was located across the street.
He shucked his jacket and sat on a chair to remove his boots.
A slight creak alerted him.
In an instant his gun was in his hand, pointed at the curtain. As the fabric was brushed aside, Jake swore and quickly released the hammer, lowering the weapon.
“Sonofabitch, Robert! I could’ve shot you!”
Robert swung his feet to the floor. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Where’ve you been?”
“Where the hell have you been?”
“It’s a long story,” he replied wearily, shaking his head. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he scratched at the stubble on his cheeks. As he moved, his ripe odor wafted toward Jake.
“Molly’s here.”
Robert’s gaze jerked up. “She is? I thought she wasn’t supposed to visit until next month.”
“Well, whatever the case, she arrived earlier this week, and she’s been looking for you ever since.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“Yep.”
“Where is she?”
“Lannigan took her to his ranch today.”
Robert balked. “Why?”
“Well, you are Lannigan’s newest lapdog. Guess he thought he’d tighten your leash with her under his roof.”
Robert shot him an icy stare and swore under his breath. “You were right, you know.”
“About what?”
“About Lannigan, about Bridget. I was a fool, and I almost died because of it.”
“What happened?”
“I overheard Shep and Bridget talking, about how she was supposed to romance me to bring me into the fold. But I guess that’s what you were trying to tell me back then. I was just too bull-headed to listen.” Robert glanced at him. “She tried it on you first, didn’t she?”
Jake didn’t answer.
Robert laughed but it was laced with disgust, maybe even a hint of despair.
“I never touched her,” Jake said. “She doesn’t suit me.”
But your sister does. He doubted Robert was ready to hear that.
Robert accepted Jake’s explanation with a flagging resignation, running a hand through his brown hair.
Jake took little joy in Robert’s enlightenment. The look in the man’s eyes told him how deep the disappointment lay. Women certainly had a way of muddying the waters and messing with the very sanity of a man. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“Well, despite knowing that Bridget was just stringing me along, I couldn’t simply walk away from Lannigan without a reason why. I was scheduled to go into the hills with Winston and Jones, so I went. I needed time to think, anyway. I was trailing them along a precarious ridgeline when the pathway gave out. I landed in a steep ravine. My horse was killed. And those two bastards left me.”
“Are you injured?”
“No, nothing that won’t heal on its own.”
“How’d you get out?”
“Sheer desperation. You’d be surprised how that can motivate you up a slick granite wall.” He laughed. “And luck. I fear mine will run out eventually. I’ve used up too much.”
Jake hesitated but went forward anyway. “Your sister found the claim in your room for the Chigger. What the hell is that?”
Robert let out a good-natured huff, and then became serious. “Molly. Shit. She’s so damn nosy. So here’s the thing. Lannigan has been using me to find claims for him.”
That was hardly a surprise. Jake and Robert had been pretty successful in their own scouting ventures. Lannigan using his daughter to lure men in was underhanded, but Jake supposed the blowhard saved it for the ones who simply wouldn’t budge. He and Robert had been in that group until Robert fell utterly to the charm of Bridget’s womanly bait.
Jake really couldn’t blame him. If it had been Molly Rose throwing succulent crumbs his way, how long would he have held out?
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her and that hungry kiss in the tunnel?
“I wanted to hide that one from Lannigan,” Robert said.
“Then why not just put it in my name.”
Robert leveled his gaze at Jake. “I know you. Molly evens the odds.”
“You are a sonofabitch. You should know that when Molly arrived into town, I caught Chip Westfield following her.”
Robert quietly considered that news. “Then I can’t leave Lannigan’s compound just yet. I won’t put Molly in danger.”
“I think you may have already done that when you put her name on the Chigger. What’s the lode look like?”
“High-grade silver exposed.”
The tinge of excitement in Robert’s voice set off alarm bells in Jake’s head.
“Holy hell,” Jake murmured. “You think it’s the Bluebird.”
Robert watched him, his gaze dark.
“Is there any gold?” The lore of the Bluebird included nuggets of gold, scattered on the ground like a field of California poppies.
“Not that I saw, but I didn’t have a lot of time to explore.”
Excitement thrummed in Jake. He leaned forward, grinning like a schoolboy. “Where is it exactly?”
“To the east of Mammoth mountain, near Ivan’s place.”
“No shit? Well that explains it. We never looked there.”
“No one does. The only way in is through a narrow, steep rocky pass. I didn’t have much time. I didn’t want Winston to find me. I quickly staked out a claim and grabbed a few samples, but the yield was low. I need to return.”
Jake stood and began to pace. “I’ll go. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it. Are there any other claims in the area?”
“No.”
Jake stopped and stared at him. The gravity of it didn’t escape him. “We need to find the apex.”
“Exactly. I have one condition though. If you switch the claim, Molly’s name stays on it.”
“Why don’t you just add your own.”
Robert shook his head.
“Did you sign something with Lannigan?” Jake asked.
“I get forty dollars a month and a one-eighth share.” Robert’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“It’s not a bad deal.” Except if the Bluebird was anything like the Amethyst—currently the biggest vein in Creede—then Lannigan would become very rich at the expense of everyone else involved. “But you know there’s a problem in the claims office, right? I didn’t lie about the Shanghai. Winston filed the Mystery Box claim on Lannigan’s behalf after I filed. They overlapped me, not the other way around.”
Robert sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before. Where’s the Chigger claim now?”
“Your sister has it,” Jake said.
“Then I’ll head to Lannigan’s.”
“You really ought to clean up first. You look like hell.”
Robert nodded. “Let’s keep what happened with Winston and Jones between us for now.”
Jake released an uneasy chuckle. “Pedro and I had an incident with them recently, so they’ll be detained for a bit, but I doubt it will last for long. I imagine I’ll be higher on their hit list than you…for the time being.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Probably not.” Jake sat in the chair again. “Molly was with us.”
Robert’s back straightened, eyes wide with alarm. “What?”
“That’s how Lannigan got his hands on her.”
“She wasn’t hurt, was she?” Robert demanded, scowling.
“No, she’s fine. In some ways, she’s probably better off under his roof, but you’ll need to determine that for yourself.”
“How is she?”
“A lot like you.”
Robert narrowed his gaze. “How’s that?”
“She’s got stars in her eyes and the stubbornness of a mule.”
Robert let out a belly laugh, the first spark of life Jake had seen in him in a good long while. “I can’t wait to see her,” he said.
Neither can I.
* * *
Molly ate the ham, potatoes, and creamed corn with a gusto that surprised her. The day’s events had left her ravenous. Shep Lannigan sat like a king at the head of the table to Molly’s right, while Bridget and Archie faced her across the dining room table.
Molly had changed into a green cotton dress, even though she had little clothing with her in her satchel, having left the remainder of her belongings stored at Zang’s Hotel when she’d fled in the night with Jake. She would need to retrieve them. Better yet, she hoped to return to her rented room as soon as she could.
Lannigan leaned back to let Stella—an older woman with a stern countenance—remove his plate. “We’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Robert these past few months. I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see you.”
Molly nodded and took a sip of water from a glass goblet.
“How long do you plan to stay?” Bridget asked.
“A few weeks.” It was the truth, but what if Robert never appeared? What if something truly awful had happened? She resolved to remain as long as it took to find him. “And you’re certain that none of you know where Robert is?”
“We’re just as in the dark as you are,” Lannigan said.
“Has Mister Winston returned?” Molly asked.
“No,” Archie cut in. “I haven’t seen him.”
“Well, there you have it.” Lannigan watched her as if she were a deer he was about to slaughter. “He’s probably s
till with Robert.” The lie slid easily from his lips.
Stunned, Molly sat motionless until rage began to burn away the chill in her bones.
She sought to hide her reaction, knowing that she hardly had the upper hand while in the man’s house. Concern for McKenna coiled tightly in her belly.
A knock at the front door drew Stella from the room. Molly halted the path of the goblet to her lips, listening to the rumble of voices beyond.
Robert!
Without waiting for permission from Lannigan, she stood and ran to the parlor then flung herself into her brother’s arms. “I’ve been so worried.” Holding tight to him, she squeezed her eyes shut to staunch the flow of tears.
“I’m sorry I didn’t meet you,” he said into her hair. “I had my days mixed up.”
“Robert,” Bridget said, entering the room. “Thank goodness.”
Molly stepped back so that the two sweethearts might have a heartfelt reunion, but when Bridget leaned close, Robert pecked her cheek with little warmth.
He appeared freshly bathed and shaved, but his eyes were dull with fatigue. Molly wanted to ask more but not with a Lannigan audience.
“You look very tired,” Molly said.
“A little.” He smiled at her. “How’s Ma and Pa, and Evie?”
She couldn’t hide how very happy she was to see him. “They’re fine.”
Lannigan strode over to them, his face pleasant, but his eyes as hard and cold as diamonds. “Robert, it’s about time you showed up. I expect a full report.”
Robert nodded.
“But first, come inside and get something to eat,” Lannigan added.
Archie followed them back to the dining room, bounding after Robert like a puppy. “Did you find the Bluebird?”
“No.”
Robert sat beside Molly as the others resumed their seats.
“What’s the Bluebird?” she asked.
“It’s a famous and mysterious mineral vein,” Archie answered enthusiastically, his eyes wide and his head back to bobbing. “Everyone is looking for it. They say it will be worth millions.”
The Bluebird Page 7