His eyes opened. “What the hell…” He focused on her. “What are you doing here?”
Molly ignored the question. “Can you sit up?” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a sitting position.
His hand came to his head. Molly backed away from him, searching for the shooter.
“Give me your gun,” Lannigan demanded. His disorientation was gone, and he watched her with clear eyes, his hand outstretched for her weapon.
“No.” She scooted back farther and pointed the Colt at him.
“You don’t need to fear me.”
She didn’t believe him. “Where’s Jake?”
She saw the slightest flicker of hesitation in Lannigan’s eyes.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
She suspected he did know. “What have you done? Is that dynamite your doing?”
“No, it was mine.”
James Winston stood above them.
* * *
When Jake came to, a cornflower blue sky greeted him. Sprawled on his back, he thought he was in Morocco, greeted by yet another day in the unforgiving Sahara, stalked by stealthy jackals, fearing they might turn on him at any time. As he moved his arms and legs, a groan escaped his mouth, and awareness flooded him.
Creede. Shep Lannigan. The Bluebird.
And most importantly, Molly Rose Simms.
He rolled to his side and wiped his mouth, his hand coming away smeared in blood. Someone had blown chunks out of the mountain. He pushed to his feet and, despite the pain, decided nothing was broken.
He scanned the area littered with rocky detritus and dusted off his shirt, stained with more blood. After locating his hat several feet away, he began an upward climb, staying low and keeping an eye out for whomever planted the dynamite. He wondered if Nine Toes had somehow found his way into the valley.
Hefting himself onto a ledge, he crouched on his knees. When he saw what the blasting had exposed, he stopped cold in his tracks.
Large and thick, the vein sparkled like a seductively draped woman, gorgeous beyond all measure. Jake stared, utterly stunned.
“God Almighty,” Nine Toes said.
Jake hadn’t noticed his approach. The prospector fell to his knees, prostrating himself before the altar of riches. Jake gaped at the most extraordinary lode he’d ever seen, unable to speak.
He hadn’t expected this. He doubted any of them had, not even the prospector those Utes had kept trapped so long ago. The man must’ve known he’d found a viable vein, but had he suspected this was here, he would’ve likely killed all those Indians single-handedly instead of walking away from it.
It was a wholly unimaginable find.
Unfathomable…unbelievable…inexplicable…
Robert and Bridget appeared, followed closely by Ivan and Pearl.
What they saw halted them en masse and caused the women to gasp.
“What the hell?” Robert couldn’t hide the veneration in his voice.
“It does exist,” Ivan said quietly, then with more excitement, “Praise be, there is a God!”
Nine Toes pierced the solemnity of the moment by weeping loudly.
Boom joined them, out of breath. “You’re all staring at something like it’s Jesus Christ himself.” He stopped when his eyes caught sight of the lode. “Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-gun. It’s gold. And a helluva lot of it.”
“It’s mine, you sonsabitches!”
Jake tore his gaze from the spectacle to face a wild-eyed woman he didn’t recognize headed straight for them. She shoved past Jake and threw herself in front of the vein.
“It was my pa that found it,” she yelled. “I’ve got the rightful claim.”
“No you don’t,” Shep Lannigan said from several yards away, answering the question of whether he’d survived the blasts—he had.
Molly trailed behind Shep, putting all of Jake’s senses on alert. He stood, realizing only then how mesmerized he’d been by the power of gold—how they all had been—but now he needed to be smart. Bewildered by how quickly a crowd had formed in such a remote place, the precariousness of the situation became apparent as James Winston brought up the rear holding a gun to Molly’s back.
“Our contract is worthless,” the woman said to Lannigan, then pointed at Bridget. “She told me so.”
Shep cast a cool eye on his daughter. When he reached the crowd and saw the gold-bearing lode, his stoic façade turned to shock.
Molly squeezed between Shep and Robert, then mumbled, “Oh my God.”
“Too many goddamn people here,” Winston said, waving his gun. “Everyone get back.”
Jake had to give Winston credit—he was the only one not to drool like an idiot over the find. Winston skirted the crowd and positioned himself in front of the vein.
“It’s not yours, Winston,” the woman spat, looking up at him from where she was sprawled across the vein.
“I beg to differ,” he answered.
“It’s not either of yours,” Jake said. “I’ve already staked this claim. Right where you’re standing, to be exact, and it’s already been filed with the claims recorder.” He knew his coordinates were in this vicinity. It would be close enough.
“Bullshit,” Winston replied.
“I’ve got two more claims just down the slope.” Jake indicated the direction with a nod of his head.
“Actually, Jake, you only have one,” Molly said.
Confused, he slid his gaze to her, a bad feeling taking root in his stomach.
“You and I own the Chigger, which is down the slope as you said. The one beside it—the Molly Rose—and this one—the Bluebird—are owned by two people.”
He’d always prided himself on being smart when it came to women and had been so certain she wouldn’t betray him. But it was obvious his luck had just run out, and he would’ve laughed if didn’t cut through him like a knife.
“And who would that be?” he asked.
“Me and Bridget.”
* * *
Panic gripped Molly. She hadn’t expected the look of hurt that crossed Jake’s face when she said who owned the other two claims. His claims.
She’d tried to help, and now she may have irreversibly botched everything that Jake—and Robert—had worked for. She needed to explain.
Standing off to the left, Bridget stared at her. “What?”
“Perfect,” Winston said, his gaze locked on Bridget. “We can be married in a few days.”
Robert took a step forward. “There’s no way in hell that’s happening, you dirty, egg-sucking dog.”
Molly grabbed her brother’s arm, not wanting Winston to shoot him.
“Cut the crap, James,” Shep said. “Miss Simms did the right thing.”
“I intend to marry Robert,” Bridget said.
“And I intend to marry Jake.” Molly searched Jake’s eyes, his face bruised and streaked with blood, hoping for a hint of…something. But all that reflected back at her was a blank slate, with no hint of affection. Gone was the man she loved; all that remained was The Jackal.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I did it to protect you, to protect the claim.”
He looked away from her, the dismissal striking her like a hard slap on the cheek.
Winston pointed the gun at Lannigan. “You’ll fix it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shep answered.
“You’ll fix the claim.”
“Is it true, Papa?” Bridget demanded. “Have you changed claims?”
“It’s all just hearsay,” Shep said. “Doing such a thing is illegal.”
Jake shook his head, clearly disgusted.
“That’s why I did it,” Molly cut in, her focus still on Jake.
The Jackal—the keeper of her heart—flicked his gaze to her, guarded and cold.
“I knew if I put your name on it, then Lannigan would steal it from you,” she continued in a rush. “You’ll have my half.”
“And you just handed the other half over to him.”
Jake flicked a hand at Shep.
“No! I gave it to Bridget because, if she really loves Robert, she won’t let her father take it from her.” Molly looked at Bridget.
Shock and indecision played across Bridget’s pale cheeks and wide eyes.
A wave of tears threatened Molly. Maybe she’d been wrong. She’d gambled it all, and now it was clear that she’d sorely miscalculated.
“You can have my half, Jake,” she whispered, but she knew from the vacant look in his eyes that he believed it was all lost. She grasped onto another truth. “This claim might not be all of the vein. It might not even be the apex.”
All eyes landed on her. She could feel the attention on her skin as if everyone’s hands had just grabbed her.
Charlie shot to her feet, a flash of savage awareness in her eyes.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Nine Toes exclaimed, throwing himself onto the ground to the south of the Bluebird as if he were staking a claim with his body.
Charlie landed atop him, and the two began to fight for ownership.
“You’re one jackass of a woman,” he yelled, pulling her hair.
“You’re a blowhard, and I’m gonna kill you because of Pedro!” She slapped him hard across the cheek.
Molly jumped back to avoid being pushed off the cliff as the two of them struggled like two wild animals fighting over a fresh kill.
Jake bolted to the north side of the Bluebird and hastily started stacking rock cairns. Within seconds everyone had scattered except for Molly and Bridget. Even Winston had abandoned holding everyone at gunpoint, in an effort to gain higher access farther north of Jake’s suddenly new claim.
Molly watched in horror as Robert climbed straight up with nothing to stop his fall should he lose his grip. He crossed horizontally in an effort to guess where the vein might be farther up.
Pearl and Ivan and Boom went lower, hastily blocking out rectangular plats with rocks. Shep scrambled past Jake, then Winston, eyeing Robert’s progress as the two of them honed in on the same spot. Robert slipped and barely stopped himself from falling off the mountain.
“Robert!” Bridget’s hand flew to her mouth.
Molly stopped breathing.
“This is madness,” Bridget said, her voice laced with panic.
With Robert momentarily safe again, Molly let her own panic lose on the other woman. “Do you love my brother? Because I’m sure not seeing it.”
“You know I do.” Bridget’s lips pinched in a defensive gesture.
“Then stand up to your father!”
Bridget hesitated, blinking rapidly, her cheeks now flushed red. She took a steadying breath. “I will.”
Thank God.
For a moment, a weight lifted from Molly.
If the Bluebird claim played out, she and Bridget would own one of the most lucrative mining lodes in the Creede area. She just hoped that Jake and Robert didn’t fall to their deaths before she and Bridget could marry the gold-crazed buffoons.
Having gained the upper hand with Charlie, Nine Toes now straddled her, his hands gripping her throat and choking her. “I didn’t kill Pedro. It was two other prospectors that done did it.” He struggled to keep her still. “Now, I don’t wanna kill you, so let’s settle this. We’ll share the claim, goddammit.”
Molly stepped closer. “Take the deal, Charlie.”
The woman finally stopped fighting against Nine Toe’s restraint. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
When Nine Toes released her, she spit in his face.
“No doubt the worst deal I ever did make,” he muttered, standing. “Now get up off your ass, woman, and help me stake this claim.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was mid-afternoon as Molly stood beside Robert on the porch of Henry and Esme Patterson’s home. She smoothed her hands down her freshly-laundered wool skirt, then patted her hair to make certain it was contained in the bun she’d worked at for over an hour. Impatient frustration was her friend these days.
Robert had told her that Henry would be the best resource in addressing issues involved with the Bluebird, and he’d arranged to bring her for a meeting. Bridget hadn’t accompanied them, which she suspected was in deference to Molly’s Jake problem. Namely, that he wouldn’t see her or respond to repeated visits to his cabin, or even to notes sent to him. It had been two days since the craziness in what was now called the Bluebird Valley. She prayed that Henry could help her smooth out the mess she now found herself in.
Robert knocked, and in short order, Esme Patterson opened the front door.
“Molly, my dear.” Esme brought her into a hug, which Molly gladly sank into. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. My Henry will help.”
Leaning back, Molly forced a smile on her face and suppressed an urge to cry.
Esme turned to Robert, and he stooped to let her kiss him on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Robert.”
“And you, Esme.”
“Come inside. I’ve got refreshments in the parlor. Let me just drag Henry from his study.”
Robert guided Molly into the sitting room. A piano hugged one wall beside a stuffed rocking chair. Molly took a seat on the blue velvet couch, the coffee table opposite displaying a tray with a silver coffee set, ceramic cups adorned with roses, and a plate of cookies and cakes. A portrait of the Patterson’s hung on the wall—a young Esme on a horse and a very handsome Henry standing at her side. Molly couldn’t help but smile at the obvious love and adventure displayed in the picture.
At the same time, the abrupt loss of Jake—of her own love and adventure—pierced her.
What if there was no working this out?
Henry entered—his hair mussed and his shirt rumpled, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. “It’s good to see you both.”
“I apologize for his appearance,” Esme said, following him. “He’s been working hard since news of the Bluebird broke.”
“Thank you for seeing me,” Molly said.
Henry and Esme sat on chairs across from them. “You’ve got yourself quite a find, young lady,” Henry said, admiration in his voice.
Molly nodded, uncomfortable with how much to say about the details of the claim. Instead, she jumped right to her problem. “I want to give my share to Jake. Will you help me?”
Henry regarded her with shrewd scrutiny while Esme poured coffee and passed each of them a cup although he waved his off.
Molly began to fidget as if she’d misbehaved somehow.
Henry glanced at Robert then focused on her. “I know a bit of what happened out there, and I understand why you would want to set things right by giving Jake half ownership of the Bluebird claim, but I’m going to advise against it.”
Molly frowned. “Why?” She balanced the saucer and cup on her knees. Did everyone in this town dislike Jake?
Henry sat back against his chair and crossed his arms. “You and Bridget Lannigan are in a very unique situation at the moment. I’ve no doubt you have many opposing interests tugging at you, and it will surely get worse as the days go by. But if the Bluebird plays out like most folks think it will, then the necessity for a cool head is of utmost importance.
“Shep Lannigan and Jake McKenna don’t get along. If those two are allowed to make critical decisions on the development of that lode, the only result I see is the inability to extract any ore.”
“Why would you say that?”
Henry sighed. “I’ve seen it happen before, and with claims far less lucrative than yours. The lawyers get involved, and the litigation drags on for months, sometimes years. And during that time, any progress is prohibited. Everyone suffers. It’s simply a losing proposition.”
Henry leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You’re a bright girl, Molly. Robert has said as such.” He gave a nod toward her brother. “Keep the claim. If Bridget is amenable, the two of you can open up that area to the benefit of everyone involved.”
Molly considered the gravity of the situation. She’d never dreamed
she would ever be in a position such as this, and Henry tugged at her conscience, her sense of responsibility to the larger picture. The Bluebird was the biggest lode ever found in Creede, and it was owned by two women. The town had been in an uproar since the news had broken.
Molly would be lying if she didn’t find it all a tad bit exciting.
However, she knew that withholding the claim from Jake was only going to further ruin her relationship with him. Was it worth the risk?
But if Jake got involved and mucked it all up, wasn’t that far worse? Wasn’t that why she’d placed the claim in hers and Bridget’s names in the first place? She’d wanted to protect his interests. She could still do that, even if he was too stubborn to ever forgive her.
She took a sip of her coffee then nodded. “I’ll do it.”
Henry smiled. “Thatta girl. First, I know you filed the claim in Hinsdale County, but you ought to file it in Rio Grande and Saguache as well. This will strengthen your stance legally. I can help you with that. Second, we need to get the surveyor out there for an official report, and discovery shafts need to be dug. We need samples assayed as soon as possible. I’ve got two investors back east who are very interested, and I can help you negotiate with them. And third, you and Bridget need to form a company.”
It all sounded overwhelming. Molly set her coffee onto the table and clasped her hands together.
Robert reached over and squeezed her arm. “You can do this, Molly.” He smiled. “I’m very proud of you.”
“You are? But my behavior appears to be that of a woman who romanced the town jackal in order to steal from him.”
“That’s not who you are.”
“Actually, Molly,” Esme said, “most of the talk is filled with admiration. Men dominate the mines in this town. That two young women snatched the coveted Bluebird out from just about every prospector, vagabond, and scoundrel within fifty miles of here is a feat well worth celebrating.”
“But it was Jake who found it, based on Robert’s previous find of the Chigger. There’s nothing admirable in me taking it from either of them.”
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