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The Bluebird

Page 10

by Kristy McCaffrey


  “No. Just you.”

  “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

  He reached over and took the goblet from her. His fingers brushed hers, sending a shiver through her, and, for a moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Did she just swoon toward him?

  As he downed the remainder of the liquid, she stared at his mouth. “How did you get away from Winston?”

  “I’m The Jackal.”

  A smile stretched clear across her face before she could rein it in. “You’re full of bluster, just like every other man.”

  His expression sobered. “And how many men have you known?”

  “Some. A few.” She nodded. “Some. Beatrice Perkins has me all but engaged to her son Carl.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed. He tensed and turned his face from her. She didn’t like it. Had she offended him? She lifted her hand to touch his arm, but when he swung his gaze back to her, she hid the gesture by pretending to swat at a nonexistent fly.

  “I want to check out the Chigger. Since you’re my partner, do you want to come?”

  She giggled. Heavens, she needed to curb her drinking. “How scandalous. You’d really let me go with you?” Don’t sound so eager, Molly. Act like a woman. She sought to compose herself.

  “Yes. You can stay with Ivan and Pearl Krupin. They have a place in the hills.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I’ll use the Krupin’s place as a base to go scouting. I’ll see you every night.”

  “Can I scout with you? Will you teach me?”

  He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes, I’ll teach you.”

  Molly had the oddest feeling that they spoke of more than just prospecting. “Should I tell Robert?” she asked softly.

  He hesitated. “Probably. He’ll worry if you don’t.”

  “You think he’ll stop me?”

  “I think you’re his sister, and he loves you very much. He’ll always have a need to keep you safe and sound.”

  She considered the situation. “How long would we be gone?”

  “Not more than a few days.”

  “Alright. When do we leave?”

  “I can get horses and supplies together tonight,” he said. “But I’m not sure how to get you out of this house.”

  Archie came to mind. “I think I might have a way. I’ll meet you at the dip in the road beyond the entrance to the ranch.”

  “When?”

  “Before sunup,” she answered.

  He nodded. “Should I ask how?”

  “No.”

  Jake’s body exuded warmth and Molly swayed. He was a heady combination of rugged male physique—broad shoulders, rolled sleeves revealing muscled forearms, a freshly-shaved chiseled jaw. She had to force herself not to reach out and touch the smooth skin of his cheek.

  “You’re not that irresistible.” Had she just uttered the words aloud?

  He grinned. “Are you sure about that?”

  No. I’m not sure at all. “Why did you kiss me in the tunnel?”

  The amusement left his eyes, replaced by a penetrating gaze that awakened an ancient feminine part of herself, always present but never acknowledged. Until now. Until Jake. The Jackal.

  “Because I wanted to.”

  * * *

  “I’m going with Jake to the Chigger claim,” Molly said to Robert.

  It was late in the evening, and many of the guests had already left—Jake included—and Molly had finally found privacy with her brother, huddled in a corner of the parlor.

  Robert sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose me saying no is pointless.”

  “Probably,” she replied, her voice quiet. “He said I could stay with the Krupin’s. It won’t be like at his cabin.”

  “What are you talking about?” Robert’s face became stern. “What happened at his cabin?”

  “Nothing,” Molly said hastily. “He was trying to help me—and you, I might add. We were in the cabin alone, but he behaved like a gentleman.”

  “Hell,” Robert muttered under his breath, swiping a hand across his chin.

  “You know I can take care of myself.” She glared at him. “And don’t be so high and mighty with me. I know that you gamble and visit women like Mabel at Bertha’s Saloon.”

  Molly reveled in the shocked expression on his face. She raised an eyebrow in response.

  “What will people in town say?” he asked.

  Incredulous, Molly released a bark of laughter. “About you? Probably nothing. As for me, no one is a paragon here. There are so many places of prostitution in town, I’ve lost count, and every woman at the party tonight was drinking.”

  “Including you?”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  “And are you plannin’ to become a fancy girl as well?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then I’ll only say this once.” Robert leaned in close. “If McKenna compromises you, I’ll hold a gun to his head until he marries you.”

  Molly suppressed a gasp. “You wouldn’t.” The thought mortified her. As fascinating as she found Jake, forcing his hand in marriage would place her in a category of women she refused to occupy.

  “Try me.”

  She narrowed her eyes. This side of Robert had always aggravated her. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

  He grimaced. “Fine, you have my very reluctant blessing, but I’ll be along in a few days.”

  “Why? Do you think Jake is going to hold me captive and ravish me?” The very thought made her face flush with warmth.

  His gaze pierced her like the sharp clang of the blacksmith’s anvil. “Don’t tell anyone about the Chigger, not even the Krupin’s.”

  “But Lannigan probably already knows.”

  “Maybe. I can throw him a bone to get him off your scent. And while I may not trust Jake with your virtue, I do trust him with your life.”

  The statement sank deep into Molly’s bones, alerting her. “What’s so important about this claim?”

  “Most likely—nothing. But there’s a chance it’s a find like no other.”

  The awe in her brother’s voice triggered gooseflesh along her arms and shoulders, causing her to shiver. She wished she still had Jake’s jacket. Already she couldn’t wait to see him again, but Robert didn’t need to know that. “I told Jake I’d meet him before sunup. I thought to ask Archie to help me get past Lannigan’s locked gate. He said he has a key.”

  Robert shook his head. “He’ll talk. Go upstairs and change, and then pack your things. We’ll leave right now. With all the guests coming and going, it’ll be easier to slip out. Lannigan’s guards will be lax tonight.”

  “Should I tell Bridget I’m leaving?”

  “No. I’ll say later that I took you back to Zang’s. Meet me out back in twenty minutes.”

  Molly hurried upstairs, but, unfortunately, she couldn’t remove the gown by herself. Frustrated, she wondered how she could get Stella to come up when a knock sounded at the door. On the other side stood Bridget.

  “I wondered where you’d gone.” Bridget wrinkled her lovely forehead. “Did you enjoy the party?”

  “Yes.” Molly spoke the truth. The entire reason was Jake McKenna. “Would you help me out of this gown? I’m ready to turn in.”

  “Of course. It is awfully late.” Bridget stepped into the room, and Molly shut the door.

  Bridget moved behind her and began to unhook the two-dozen buttons on the backside of the dress. “There were several gentlemen who inquired after you. I think we could arrange visits if any of them have caught your eye.”

  “That’s very flattering, but I can’t say that I’m interested.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Molly tensed, wondering if somehow Bridget knew she was about to flee Lannigan’s compound and run into the hills with The Jackal. She gave a curt nod over her shoulder.

  “What was Robert like when he was younger?”

  Molly released the breath she’d been holdi
ng. “He was very black and white, Bridget.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The dress gave way, and Molly pushed it down her hips then stepped out of it, still wearing three layers of petticoats. She pulled the straps of the camisole onto her shoulders and faced the other woman.

  “He was always straight up. Sometimes a little righteous, but mostly fair, and a believer in doing the right thing.”

  Bridget’s face turned to stone, and she looked away.

  “But like many men,” Molly added gently, “he’s let go of some of his lofty ideals. He must really care about you.”

  Bridget’s hooded gaze met hers, and Molly knew the woman understood. The Lannigan’s likely never did the right thing.

  “Be honest with him,” Molly said. “If you love him, then tell him.”

  Bridget chewed her lip and nodded.

  * * *

  In the hours before dawn, Jake approached his small house and recognized Robert’s horse tethered outside. When he entered, he was surprised to see Molly Rose there as well.

  He shut the door and dropped the bag of supplies he carried. “How’d you get her out of Lannigan’s?” he asked Robert, but his eyes slid to Molly. She was dressed plainly and bundled for warmth, but her face was bright with anticipation. A smile tugged at her mouth, and his heart raced in his chest.

  “It wasn’t that hard.” Robert stepped forward and pushed the curtain aside on the front window, then glanced outside. “Everyone was drunk.”

  “I know,” Jake answered, grinning at Molly. She grimaced, clearly remembering her own inebriated state earlier.

  Jake hadn’t minded. He’d enjoyed seeing her with her guard down. But, while he’d definitely wanted to kiss her again, he’d held himself in check for that reason. He wanted her of sound mind when he next took her in his arms. He was feeling a little territorial that way. There’d be no thought of any of those other men she knew, whether back home or from the nosy biddies in Creede trying to pair Molly up with one of their sons.

  He also hadn’t kissed her because they were at Lannigan’s ranch. Jake desired more privacy. By taking Molly into the mountains, he suspected he was about to get it, but Robert’s presence filled the room with tension.

  “I’ve got most of the supplies together,” Jake said. “One benefit of this town never sleeping.”

  “You should leave now.” Robert let the curtain fall back into place. “I don’t want anyone following you. I’ll meet you at Ivan’s place in a few days.”

  Jake nodded. “I need to get another horse from the livery for your sister. Molly, pack your things in here.” He handed her an empty saddlebag.

  While she knelt and began shifting her belongings from the satchel, Robert leaned close to Jake. “She’s my sister.” His low voice was edged with warning. “Not a plaything.”

  “I can hear you,” Molly murmured from her spot on the floor, her eyes fixated on her task.

  Robert stared at Jake with an unflinching gaze. Jake had only ever seen this side of him when it came to Bridget, at least in the beginning when Robert had become involved with Lannigan’s daughter.

  “I’ll guard her with my life.” Jake meant it.

  Molly stood. “Are you two done trying to one-up the other? I’d like a gun, since I’m pretty certain James Winston stole my derringer.”

  They both looked at her.

  Robert shifted his attention to Jake. “You still got that Colt Lightning?”

  “Yep. Think she can handle it?”

  “I told you I can shoot,” Molly said matter-of-factly.

  Robert gave a nod. Jake retrieved the weapon from his gear and handed it to Molly, placing the grip into her palm. She took the weight, released the cylinder, eyed the empty chambers, then popped it back into position. “Do you have cartridges?”

  Jake found a box of .38’s and handed it over. She went to the table and proceeded to load the gun.

  Robert’s attention landed on Jake. “Maybe I won’t have to worry about you tarnishing my sister’s reputation after all.” Robert smiled, but there was little humor in the gesture.

  Jake had never had a woman shoot him.

  There was always a first time for everything.

  Chapter Eleven

  Molly guided her horse out of town as the sky began to lighten on the edges of the ridgetops, trailing behind Jake’s mount and a mule loaded with supplies—a canvas tent, blankets, slickers, food for both humans and animals, basic medical supplies, and mining tools. She only knew this because she’d quizzed Jake before they departed. After their prior hasty run into the mountains, Molly wished to be more prepared this time.

  Once clear of town, she was able to move side-by-side with Jake. “How far is it to the Krupin’s place?”

  “We should be there by nightfall, depending on how well you hold up.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ve had no sleep, and you had a bit too much sherry. If you need to stop and rest, just let me know.”

  Fortunately, Jake had rented Cinnamon once again for her to ride, which made Molly very happy. She patted the gelding’s neck. “I’ll only stop if the horses need a break.”

  “We can work on your liquor tolerance. I’ve got a bottle of rye whiskey from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, that’s over fifty years old.”

  “So you’re taking me into the wilderness to get me intoxicated?”

  He laughed. “No. But on a cold night with the wolves howling and bears grunting in the distance, sometimes the only remedy is a bit of liquid gold.”

  “Bears?”

  “Most are probably still hibernating, but a few could be out early. Don’t worry, even if you’re only an adequate shot, you can easily hit one.”

  “My pa made sure I was more than adequate.” And her cousin Eli—while four years younger than her—had fine-tuned those abilities while staying with her family two years ago. Living on the plains of Texas had honed his skills to pinpoint accuracy. Either that or it was his determination to best their cousin Lucas. Her money was on Lucas. When she’d spent the summer with her Aunt Molly and Uncle Matt seven years ago, the two boys had been annoyingly competitive, and they’d only been eight years old at the time.

  “I hope one day to get down to Arizona. Maybe I’ll have a chance to meet your pa.”

  “If you do, you probably shouldn’t mention kissing his daughter in a tunnel or camping in the hills with her.”

  A smile tugged at Jake’s mouth. “I’ll remember that.”

  The sky shifted to light gray as sunrise approached. Although they’d left Upper Creede and entered the mountains along the same path as their previous excursion, once in the hills they’d diverged east into a new area. For now, the way was flat, but beyond Molly could see they would soon begin climbing out of the valley they now traversed.

  Jake slid a glance at her. “Why don’t you like tunnels?”

  She tugged the brim of her hat down and tightened the scarf around her neck—a challenge with the leather gloves on her hands. “When I was young, I fell into a well. I wasn’t found for quite some time.”

  “How old were you?”

  She cleared her throat. “Seven. I can’t seem to quell the fear, even now.” Embarrassed, a part of her wanted to hide the incident from Jake. It was hardly a tragic event that she’d experienced, but she nevertheless relived frightful echoes of it whenever she was in a tight space, which, blessedly, wasn’t often, since she made a point of avoiding them. Seeking to change the topic of conversation, she asked, “When you lived overseas, what did you do for employment?”

  He considered her question. “You may not like my answers.”

  “Were you a criminal?”

  “Not if I could help it, but sometimes life isn’t so simple.”

  Sitting astride Fernando, he held himself with a dispassionate demeanor, but Molly was beginning to realize that it was a pretense. She could almost smell the survival instinct wafting off him.

  “Give me an
example,” she prodded.

  “When I was eighteen, I was a salt smuggler in Shanghai.”

  “Why salt? Wouldn’t opium make you more money?”

  He laughed, and Molly liked that she could prompt such a response in him.

  Shooting her an amused look, he asked, “How would you know about opium?”

  She shrugged. “We’ve got Chinese immigrants in Tucson. There are opium dens in Old Chinatown.”

  “I hope you don’t go into any of them. It grabs hold of people and robs them of their soul.”

  Molly wondered if he spoke from personal experience.

  “At the time, I decided that salt was less dangerous. The government regulated who could buy and sell, which hurt everyone. In situations like that, smuggling becomes a necessary evil.”

  “But it’s still dangerous.”

  “Only if you get caught.” The rogue in him emerged. Was that why he was so compelling?

  “The Jackal Smuggler.” She swung her gaze to encompass the surrounding splendor of the mountains of Colorado, afraid her fascination with this man was all too apparent.

  “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? But I did get caught although not by the police. One night, a group of us was off-loading a shipment down at the docks when we were jumped by another gang. They killed two of us then grabbed me and three others. We were taken to an abandoned warehouse and interrogated. They wanted all our contacts.”

  “Did you tell them?”

  “Yeah, I did.” His light-hearted tone faded. “I was only eighteen and I wanted to live. It was just salt smuggling, after all, not worth dying over, but my contacts weren’t too pleased. I managed to get away but had to go into hiding, at least until I could get out of China. I ended up on a boat headed to Vietnam and landed right in the middle of a war between China and France.”

  Her heart beat a rapid staccato in her chest, and her breath was shallow. As if she were with him in that time, she worried over his safety. It was such an odd sensation. He was healthy and well and alive not three feet from her, but it took a moment for her mind to accept that logic.

 

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