Zach's expression became sober as he turned to address Jace. "I'd been hoping to get a chance to speak with Rafe about you. He sent me a letter recommending you for a new post I have open in your neck of the woods. Have some more bacon?"
Jace shook his head, looking bemused. Sparkle certainly was. Rafe had sent Zach a letter about Jace going to work for him?
"Perhaps we can go out into the parlor and discuss things." Zach motioned for Jace to follow him, then inquired, "What kind of salary would you demand, Mr. Vice President?"
"V-Vice President?" Majesta stammered. She'd risen to follow them.
"Yes," Zach grinned at his stunned audience. "Rafe said he knew the perfect candidate to manage a new bank in Kansas City. First Bank of Omaha's expanding its holdings. Rafe assured me your husband here is intelligent, honest, and looking for a career opportunity. If there's one thing Raford's an excellent judge of, it's a man's character."
"But surely you must have other candidates. People more qualified." Jace flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know if he explained my background, but I don't have any previous experience in banking."
"He did explain, but no, I haven't any other candidates I wish to consider. The job's yours if you want it."
Majesta gasped and turned to Sparkle, who'd also edged into the front room. "You're marrying a most extraordinary man. Jace and I both liked Doctor Barlow, but I have to say I've never met anyone quite like Rafe. Or the others in this wonderful family. We owe him a debt of gratitude. I believe you're owed much the same, Sparkle."
"Me? What have I done…other than cause disruptions?"
"Been strong enough to remain true to yourself in spite of what we said," Majesta answered, embracing her. "That's never easy. Had you not done it, things would have turned out differently for all of us."
Something in Majesta's eyes then told Sparkle that Majesta had been aware of her secret longings for Jace. She'd known all along, yet wasn't criticizing. Quite the opposite. She appeared genuine in her praise. Sparkle found she suddenly craved some fresh air. She made excuses about needing to do something in the kitchen, then swiftly walked through it and out the back door, striding several yards to the side of the ranch house.
She couldn't believe what was happening. Jace and Majesta folded into the Conley family as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Majesta had known about Sparkle's infatuation. Rafe had sent Zach a letter recommending Jace for a job at a new branch of his bank. It was hard to believe, and yet—
Her thoughts broke off as a swirl of dust in the distance caught her eye. She spotted a rider on a sorrel coming up the gentle rise from the main gates, and started running.
"Rafe."
She barely let him dismount before flinging her arms around his neck. "Oh, I love you, you incredible man. You're too sweet, you know that?"
Rafe bent down to retrieve his fallen hat from the dust at his feet. "Mornin' to you, too. Be nice if you'd let a fella tip his own hat to his intended."
"Jace and Majesta are here. You invited them to the wedding, didn't you? And you made Zach give Jace a job with his bank. I can't thank you enough."
"So that's what's got you fired up. I thought maybe you slept on things last night and woke up starved for my affections. I could use some of yours." He caught her buttocks in both hands and pulled her against him, giving her a randy kiss.
"I know you did all this for me."
He shrugged. "For you and for Jace, too. Ain't as though I ordered Zach at the end of my pistol, or nothin'. Made a suggestion. Jace is a right smart fella, even after takin' a bullet to the head. Hell, maybe that's what made him so smart. Might've done the same for me, if anyone had pumped one into my noggin, 'stead of every other damned place."
"I can think of one they missed," she purred.
He gave her a mock look of disapproval. "You keep talkin' like that, folks inside are liable to find us doin' the dirty deed in the barn."
"Me?" she laughed. "What about you, grabbing me and kissing me like that, talking with your drawl? As if you don't put that on deliberately to get me all riled. I can't help that it works."
"Does, huh? You mean from the first, I could've just talked you into bed with me?"
"As if you didn't."
He released a chuckle and started to lead her into the house, but she caught his arm. "Wait a minute. Jace told me you asked him to give me away. You'd asked once about my father. I never had one."
He swallowed. "Sort of figured that."
"Part of the reason I wanted to see Paris is because my mother had come from a wealthy family. Her parents took her to Europe. That's where she learned to read tarot. I loved her stories about Paris. She was never bitter about the past, or the fact that after having a glorious upbringing, she got pregnant with me out of wedlock. Her parents cut her off without a cent. She ended up dirt poor."
Rafe sighed, waiting.
"I wanted the calico because I was sick of handed-down rags from the families who employed her. We lived in one small room in Jace's house. She couldn't afford decent clothes for either of us."
"You don't have to tell me all this. It doesn't change what's between us. You must know that."
"I want you to understand. My whole life, I've lived in one room somewhere, even when you met me at the Scarlet Lady. I never thought I'd be part of a big family." She threaded her fingers through his. "Thank you for marrying me, Rafe. Your name and your family mean more than you know. Even more than seeing Paris one day."
He muttered a low expletive. She'd been looking at the ground, but now glanced up to look into his eyes. "Can't just stand here and say nothin' after a speech like that, can I?" he grumbled. "Got to find some flowery words for you."
He looked down at their joined hands and squeezed lightly. "I'm not good at this. But here goes. I'll share my family, hang up my peacemaker, empty my bank account, or sell my soul to make sure you never end up poor or rearin' a child alone, like your ma." He straightened to his full height. "You have me now, and however long I've got to live and draw breath, I promise I'll take care of you.
CHAPTER 28
Thursday afternoon Jace walked Sparkle out behind the main house and placed her hand on Rafe's arm. The ranch hands and families assembled in the sunshine to watch the preacher unite Sparkle LaFleur and Raford Conley in marriage. Rafe slid a golden band set with diamonds on her finger, and sealed their pledges with a kiss. Sparkle looked into his dark eyes and inwardly thanked the Lord. At long last she did indeed have Rafe…until death did them part.
Now she sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room, smiling as Rafe removed his coat and string tie. She'd worn the beaded silk. Rafe had arrived in polished black boots, a black gambler-striped suit and a new black hat. There'd been a barbecue at the ranch after the ceremony, then Rafe had brought her here.
She handed him a wrapped object. "You didn't have to get me a weddin' present," he said kindly. "Becomin' Miz Conley in truth is all I really wanted." His dark eyes were warm on hers.
"I know. Open it, anyway."
He did, and stared in silence for long moments. "Spark—"
He was choked up completely, she realized. Only half her name got out, and he glanced over at her helplessly. She cleared a lump from her own throat. "Rafe, I have to tell you that I'm not sure I can truly predict when or how someone's going to die. I was very upset the other night…I couldn't bear to lose you again." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I would have said anything to keep you. Please forgive me."
"You sayin' you lied to me? Thought you'd sworn you'd never do that again."
"I have a strong feeling I'm right, but I can't guarantee my predictions will come true. Please don't be angry with me. Not tonight." She glanced down at the ring glittering on her left hand.
"Got a confession of my own to make," Rafe said. "Made some bold promises about our weddin' night. Boasted about goin' wild and drinkin' wine off your skin, lickin' cake icin' and such. I don't figure on keepin'
my word about that."
Crestfallen, Sparkle wondered if she should have waited to tell him about the limits to her visionary capabilities.
But he leaned down to kiss her tenderly, and his voice was a husky murmur. "There's a time for foolin' in bed, but not tonight. I'm about to do somethin' really important for the very first time. I've never made love to a wife. We waited a long time for this. I'm fixin' to love you long and slow, Miz Raford Conley, till you fall asleep in my arms."
"You say the most heavenly things," she sighed against him.
"I'm goin' to brand you for good tonight, so there's no mistakin' you're mine—clear to the bone. Or that I'm yours, just as deep."
* * *
"Sparkle Conley, you're just bein' stubborn now." Rafe held a thigh in each hand, parting them wider as he let his lips and tongue hover an inch from her swollen nub. "I want sausage and fried taters. You're one hell of a cook, and your husband's starvin'. You makin' sausage for my breakfast like I asked—even if it is the fourth day in a row—or not?"
"Rafe, I'm not sure there's…any sausage left," she gasped, reaching for him, trying to pull him against her quivering body. Her taut nipples ached, her lower belly was a fiery knot, and he wouldn't appease her. "How about bacon?"
"How about you're just bein' contrary? Two can play this game, you know." He dropped her thighs and sat back on his haunches. "Don't reckon I feel like doin' this now. We did it those other mornin's this week."
"Arrrr! Rafe, you started it. You can't just leave me like this!"
"Hmm, you have a point. Cause knowin' you, the next time you start pleasurin' me, you'll stop halfway to get me back. Reckon I better ponder this a few minutes."
"Rafe."
He flashed her a thoroughly wicked grin. "Blackmail, darlin'. Learned it from you."
"All right," she nearly screamed. "Whatever you want for breakfast. I don't care if you eat sausage every day for the next two years. Just help me!"
"My pleasure, ma'am."
Married for over a month, they still resided in Rafe's cabin at the ranch while they waited for their residence in Denver to be refurbished. Rafe refused to tell Sparkle anything about the house or his new business venture, insisting both were her wedding presents.
Other than communicating by telegraph with the man in charge of the renovations to their new home, Rafe had no pressing demands on his time. He'd ride into Pueblo every few days to check his mail or send a wire, then come right back. He was gone the entire day only twice since their wedding day. His wife couldn't have been happier that he'd chosen to take some time off.
They needed this glorious time together. They went for rides on Snatch, walks to the creek along the back side of Travis' spread, visited town, spent hours in bed. Rafe still needed time to recuperate from his near-fatal injury, but he was doing simple chores like chopping wood again. He ate like a horse and was getting stronger every day—taking better care of himself than he had before their union.
She made him sausage and eggs for breakfast, then cleaned up after them. They were back in the cabin when she realized Rafe had been oddly quiet all during the meal and in the short time since. He climbed up on the bunk and pulled the window shut and latched it.
Sparkle sat down in the rocker. Something was up, she thought.
Rafe turned around to face her and drew a deep breath. "I need to tell you somethin', Sparkle. I wanted to before we got hitched, but the time was never quite right."
She was instantly wary. Was this going to be some horrible confession that he'd gone whoring while he'd been out of town, or that he hadn't told her the truth about shooting that young adolescent? "Am I going to hate this?"
"I don't know," he said. "I hope not."
"Go on," she replied, steeling herself for whatever confession was about to spew forth. Whatever came next, this was Rafe…and he was now her husband. She'd taken vows to stick with him through thick and thin.
"It wasn't rustlers or common lawbreakers who ambushed me and Sam," he surprised her by saying. "Bringin' in outlaws was always just part of what I did. The smaller part. Mostly I hire out to important men for special investigations. Tracking people down, advice on security risks, personal escort service…things like that. It pays damned well, but it also makes enemies. Enemies powerful enough and rich enough to try to eliminate me."
"What?" She leapt from the rocking chair. "You…you're saying. My God." She smacked him in the face. Began pacing in front of the rock fireplace. Had he calmly just informed her that someone else had hired out to kill him?
His soft voice and explanations continued. She shut her eyes, collapsed onto the rocking chair, and the world began to spin.
* * *
The world was still spinning a month later. Rafe and Sparkle had taken the train to Denver; Snatch rode along in a livestock car. Now they rode the big sorrel up a knoll on the outskirts of the city and stopped before an imposing home at the top of a narrow lane. Rafe slung the stallion's reins over the porch rail and dismounted, reaching for Sparkle.
She slid down in front of him. "Whose house is this?" she inquired, suspecting she was about to meet one of his many wealthy employers.
"Ours." She'd never seen a broader grin on his face. Theirs? Was he kidding her again?
Double oak and glass entry doors swung open. A mild man in a gray suit and spectacles beamed at Rafe. "You're here, sir!" The fellow bustled forward, right hand extended. "Excellent. The furniture was delivered yesterday. I presume your luggage is on its way also?"
Rafe nodded, one arm around Sparkle's waist. "Station master said he'd send some men out later. This fine gal's your new mistress, Sparkle Conley. Darlin', this fella here's Dan Pearson. He's our houseman, like a butler. Dan answers the door, takes in mail and deliveries, helps out around the place." Her face went beet red as Rafe added, "Except for the cookin'. I'm partial to the way you make taters and sausage."
The old familiar desire to murder Rafe was back.
He'd turned back to Dan. "This bein' the first time I'm bringin' her into our new home, best do it right. If you'd just open up those doors a bid wider…Thanks."
She was bodily lifted into Rafe's arms and carried across the threshold as the amused houseman looked on.
Sparkle gaped at the opulent interior. Rafe had to be teasing. This had to be some elaborate prank he'd staged, or maybe she was dreaming. This couldn't be their new home.
But the fiercely proud expression in her husband's eyes said indeed it was. Entire layers of Rafe's persona peeled away in that instant. The musty log cabin at the ranch, acting lucky to save the cost of a hotel room by sharing her bed at the Scarlet Lady…The man was a complete charlatan! A drawling, denim-clad, spur jangling, irresistible charlatan.
Dan cleared his throat delicately. "Mr. Bregon's waiting in your study, sir. Is there anything I might get for you, Mistress Sparkle?"
Now she was certain she was dozing on the train and this was a dream. Mistress Sparkle? She shook her head, blushing and giggling as Rafe stalked down the marble hallway with her still in his arms.
"Darlin'," Rafe admonished as he set her on her feet, "my new partner might take offense if you walk in snickerin'. He was a hired gun, like me. He's not one to laugh much. I'm the clown of the outfit. He's the looks."
"Raford," she warned in a low voice, "I won't have you insulting my husband. I happen to think he's a very attractive man."
"Might change your mind after you see Wil. He has gals lined up for a mile behind him, though he never seems to take much notice."
They entered the study to find a man dressed in tan work pants and dark brown boots. He wore a black cowboy hat tilted back on his head and a dazzling smile. He was whipcord lean and taller than Rafe. He was also more than handsome. The correct word would be breathtaking.
Though she'd found everything about Rafe striking from the first—from the thump of his boots and spurs to the cadence of his speech—she knew most people wouldn't notice those details. Others
saw Rafe as a typical frontier drifter. Not so different from a dozen other men. He had a rugged, yet forgettable appearance, a major contributing factor to his success. He blended in.
But there was nothing forgettable about his partner. Wil Bregon couldn't blend if he tried. Not with his tanned complexion and moss green eyes, set off by sunstreaked, tawny hair. He looked out of place in this room. He belonged on a medieval battlefield or seated on a throne with a broadsword in his hand. Modern garb and spurs simply didn't do him justice.
Watching as her husband poured a bourbon for Wil at a massive maple sideboard, Sparkle's heart swelled. Even when compared to the chiseled features of his taller, admittedly gorgeous partner, Rafe had an aura of power. His was the stronger presence. He was far more than the clown of the outfit. He was also the father of Sparkle's unborn child…but she hadn't told him yet.
Her eyes flicked to the wall behind Rafe's desk. A few feet from the ceiling hung a brass hook. Below it was a carved plaque. Sparkle began to laugh uproariously. Tears trickled from her eyes. Wil mumbled an excuse to leave and closed the study door behind him as he went out.
Rafe unbuckled his holster, stepped up on a wood chair, and slung the holster over the brass hook. His peacemaker was now suspended in air. He stepped back down. "Happy now, Miz Conley?"
The sign below the holster read:
WARNING—DON'T TEMPT ME TO PULL THIS DOWN. MY WIFE AIN'T FOND OF GUNPLAY, AND SHE RUNS THE PLACE.
"I can't tell you how happy I am," Sparkle laughed. "Your office is very impressive."
"This ain't my office. Wil and I got a place downtown. I'll take you to see it some time. Driscoll's comin' back to work with me, and Wil knows a couple good men. I won't be out in the field much. Wil's not hitched, so he doesn't mind travel. He'll take the risk working the cases. I'll just meet with the bigwigs and charm the pants off 'em so they'll hire us. I got the connections."
"If you have an office, what's this?"
The Trailrider's Fortune Page 30