“Not a very good one, I’m afraid.” The coffee was boiling. He poured it into two ceramic mugs and handed one to her. It was too steaming hot to drink, for the metal pot had been placed directly on top of a blazing log, rather than suspended above the fire as it should have been.
McShane sipped at his coffee despite the scalding temperature. He seemed not to notice it. “Fact o’ the matter is, lassie, I joined the Mounties because it was either that or go to jail. They’re so hard up for good men in this area due to the comeback of the gold rush that they take what they can get. So many of the good men went over to being prospectors, there aren’t many left to police this here city of Yukon. And there’s so much lawlessness going on because of the gold rush, they need quite a bit o’ policing.”
“Well, if you’re policing the area, why don’t you go arrest Vroman and his men?”
“Did they kill anybody?”
“Well . . . not that I know of.” She was getting frustrated. Couldn’t he see how badly they had treated her?
“Did they jump anyone’s claim, or steal anyone’s stash?”
“They raped me, damn you! Or had me raped. And they run a house of ill repute too, and there’re horrible moving pictures being made, and—”
“None of that concerns me,” he said, shrugging disinterestedly. “I’m not so law-abiding myself. I don’t take kindly to them raping; that’s one thing I definitely will lay down the law on them for. But the other stuff, hell, I don’t give a damn.”
“You’re some Mountie!” she said with scornful accusation.
He grinned. “That’s what I been telling you. Nah, I only wear the uniform or do the duties on special occasions, such as when someone gets killed or their claim jumped. And I’m only interested in staying in this here town of Yukon until a certain man named Ambrewster shows up. Which will surely happen one fine day soon.” When Kristin started to protest, he interrupted her by raising his chin up and saying gently, “Drink your coffee, lass. It’ll do you good.”
She contained her rage. After all, this was the man who had saved her. She took a sip of the no longer scalding coffee and nearly gagged. She began to choke. McShane came over and took the cup from her hands so she would not spill it. He patted her gently on the back. “There there, now. There, there.”
When she could speak, she said, “That’s awful.” “Thank you.” He beamed with genuine pleasure. “I got a special method. I fill half the pot with coffee grinds, and then the other half with mountain stream water. This here is three day old coffee, which is my favorite. The older, the stronger, the better.”
During the next few days Kristin learned that brewing atrocious coffee was not Sean McShane’s only talent. His cooking was equally as terrible. Dinner to him meant meat roasted to a crisp and seasoned with salt. Breakfast was porridge and occasionally some hard fried eggs. To McShane’s great delight, Kristin took over the preparation of meals after the first day. She also kept the cabin clean, and attended to other odds and ends
Neither of them said anything about how long she would stay, as the days turned into a week, and then longer. McShane never said anything, because he was growing very fond of Kristin and did not want to risk upsetting the applecart. He was afraid that if he mentioned the subject of her leaving, it might precipitate her into actually doing it.
Kristin did not bring up the subject herself, because she did not really know what she wanted to do. She had been so single-minded in her attempt to find and rescue Chad that, now that he was dead, she felt as if she had stepped off a treadmill. She was disoriented, grim and without direction. One thing was clear: She had no reason for returning to the States right now.
She viewed this time she was spending with McShane as something of a desperately needed vacation. She could let her body and mind relax after the ordeal she had been through. Time passed slowly here in Yukon; there was little to do. Kristin luxuriated in the lack of pressure. McShane himself did not pressure her in any way. He made no physical advances on her, even though they shared the same bed of furs each night. She discovered that despite his rugged mountain man image, he was a very gentle, considerate person. She felt growing affection for him. Hers was not as strong or intense an affection, though, as she knew he felt for her.
He tried to hide his feelings, fearing that she might feel pressured by them and leave him as a result. His attempts were clumsy, though, for she could see in his eyes and in the way he treated her that his feelings were becoming deeper with each passing day.
When the confrontation finally came—about whether she would stay with him as more than just a friend—it was Kristin herself who brought it on
She went with him into town that day to gather provisions from the general store and to allow him to make his rounds. She saw how warmly he was greeted by many of the townspeople, who were very grateful he was there. This showed Kristin that McShane was really more of a dedicated lawman than he let on. The fact that he ignored most crimes other than murder or robbery seemed to stand him in good stead with the townspeople, rather than in bad stead.
The Canadian Yukon Territory at this time in history was like the old Wild West days of the U.S. frontier, and the breaking of laws was a routine, day to day thing.
The gold rush that had peaked at the turn of the century, in 1900, had petered out almost completely in the later years. This town, which had proudly named itself after the Yukon Territory itself, had been built up in a very temporary, ramshackle way. When the boom suddenly ended, Yukon turned into a ghost town. The shopkeepers and small businessmen had no one to sell their places to, since people were leaving town in droves. So they, too, just left, abandoning their buildings.
Then, only a few months ago, in 1922, a new vein of gold had been discovered in the mountains and streams. In addition, technology had advanced far enough to make it profitable to mine gold that had formerly been too silty or deep. These factors caused a sudden resurgence in the gold rush. New miners and fortune hunters, inflamed with gold fever, descended on the ghost town. They took over the abandoned mines, staking their claims. Shopkeepers came to cash in on the swelling new populace, taking over the still standing ramshackle establishments. This gave the town its strange character. It was a ghost town that had been reinhabited.
The new gold rush had started so suddenly, and the population had blossomed so quickly, there were many services common to such an area that had not been provided—yet. For instance, Kristin observed, there was no organized gambling saloon. And the only house of ill repute was Vroman’s hotel.
“I’m surprised there aren’t any gambling casinos,” she said to McShane as they walked down the boardwalk bordering the muddy street. “There are only these catch-as-catch-can poker games here and there. And the saloon doesn’t seem to have any entertainment.” “Well, there’s the girlies for entertainment. The camp followers.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean like a burlesque show.”
McShane glanced up and down the single main street of his town. He shrugged. “There hasn’t been time enough, I guess, for the smart businessmen to move in.” Kristin thought about this as McShane went into the general store to buy the provisions he needed. Aside from his duties as keeper of the peace, of which he was quite neglectful, he spent much of his time as a trapper and fur trader. Fortunately, for Kristin, he did all his skinning and tanning away from the cabin at a separate tanning shed in the woods. The tanning shed had been built by McShane’s former partner, a man named Boone, whom McShane seemed very uncomfortable talking about. The town’s butcher paid McShane a premium for the carcasses of the animals he caught.
When McShane came out again, carrying two sacks, Kristin said to him thoughtfully, “I have a business proposition for you.”
“Aye, lassie, I’m always open to that.” He grinned. “But to tell the truth, I didn’t think you was that sort of a girl.”
“Listen, here’s my idea. You provide the money, and I’ll provide the time and energy and know
how. And we’ll start up . . .” she paused long enough to see the look of interested suspense in his eyes, “a casino saloon!”
He put the provisions on the mule he had taken with them into town. “That’s a loco idea.”
“Why?” she protested. “You’re just afraid of it because it’s new to you, and you never thought of it.”
“But . . . well, we already got us a saloon.”
“Yes, and look at it.” They both gazed off across the street and down a few shops at the dreary building through which a few men occasionally came and went. “There’s no joy there! No fun! They go and drink and probably spend their time wishing the place were a lot more entertaining than it is. If they want to gamble, they have to wait till enough players come around for poker.”
“Well, I’ll admit it’s not the most lively, enjoyable saloon I’ve ever seen. But even with that, old Billy still manages to make quite a good living of it.”
“That’s my point!” she said, becoming excited. “Yukon is growing in leaps and bounds due to the resurgence of the gold-rush trade. There’s more than enough customers to support another saloon, especially one with a gambling casino. Old Billy is doing this well even despite the fact that he’s running such a depressing place. Imagine what he would do if the place were lively and inviting!” She saw McShane’s skeptical look, but she bulled on ahead, anyway, becoming more and more enthused about her idea. She gestured and spoke spiritedly as they walked down the street, McShane leading his mule.
“Don’t you see, Sean? If we don’t do it, someone else will. This town is going to grow no matter what anyone does, so long as the gold holds up. And if someone is going to get the bright idea of opening up a saloon with a real casino and making a fortune from it, it might as well be me.”
“You think so, lassie? Why you?”
“Well . . . because I know what’s needed! I’ve been around professional casino operators. I told you about them. I watched them. And besides,” she added lowering her eyes demurely, “who do you think knows more about what wild, action-starved, lonely goldminers want? An old man like Billy, or a young girl like me?”
McShane just snorted in response. But she could see he was thinking about it. As they continued down the street, they passed the single restaurant and boarding house in town, and Kristin was pleased to see that McShane went right past without even thinking about stopping. She knew that before she came, he had made a practice of eating at the restaurant every chance he had. It was something he looked forward to, as it gave him the opportunity to get away from his own tasteless cooking.
Since Kristin had been with him, she had cooked his meals, using the fresh meat he brought home plus the few simple spices she found in his pantry. Often she would add a little wine as well as some special ingredients she had ordered him to pick up in town. McShane had been flabbergasted at the skill with which she turned ordinary foods into delicious meals.
“I could arrange to have a small kitchen in the saloon too,” she added softly to give extra force to her argument.
McShane mulled the proposition over some more while they continued on to his cabin on the outskirts of town. When they reached the cabin, instead of going inside, he took her arm and led her over to the edge of the embankment behind the cabin, overlooking a steep, verdant valley. They were surrounded by giant trees and the scent of fresh greenery. The floor of the forest was covered with pine needles. McShane put his hand to her shoulders and turned her to him
His face was silhouetted against the white clouds and blue sky. His eyes were serious. “One thing you didn’t mention in all this, lassie. I don’t know if you’re taking it for granted, or what. Am I to be assumin’, then, that if we do build this saloon, you’re going to be sticking around a mite? As more than just a casual lady friend?”
There was a look of deep emotion in his eyes. Kristin had been bouncy and spirited, but now she became serious and subdued. She could see he was asking a question that he felt very strongly about, and he wanted an honest answer.
She turned away from him for a moment and went to stand off a few feet to the side to look into the valley, which was cut by a flowing stream. She felt torn. The truth was that she still cared for Dallas Hunter, even though she did not know if they would ever be reunited. If there was one man whom she would choose to spend her life with if she had to make a choice now, she thought it would be Dallas. But the problem was, he was a gangster! No matter how honorable a gangster, or how fair, the fact still remained that he scoffed at the laws of society. He had deliberately chosen to leave the world of honest men and to enter the realm of the underworld.
Was he the kind of man she could freely give herself to? Was he the kind of man she would want as the father of her children? What could she tell her future children about him? Could she ever hope that they would look up to him? And if they did, what then? Would she find herself bearing sons, only to watch them grow up to be gangsters? She did care for Hunter, she had to admit that to herself. But would she continue to care, knowing she had to put up with his immoral activities for the rest of her life?
It was an agonizing decision she was now forced to make. She turned back to McShane, who was watching her intently. “Sean, I want to be honest with you. I don’t love you.”
He took this with stoic optimism. “That may come in time.”
“I won’t marry you, if that’s what you’re asking. But I will live with you. And stay here. I don’t know how long. I can’t tell you that. It may be forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? But it may not be too. I just don’t know.”
He smiled. “Lassie, you’re a very strange bird. When me mother was alive, you know what she kept telling me? She kept saying the girls would be wanting to marry me; but none would want to just live with me, without me making her honest, so to speak. And here you are, doing the exact opposite. I’m proposing to marry you, and you’re proposing something a lot different. Is this that new morality I been hearing so much about from the States? The jazzage liberation, or whatever they’re calling it?”
“No,” she said, smiling in an understanding way, her eyes lowered. “It’s just me telling you the truth about what I’m feeling and about what I think is best for me. It’s purely selfish.” She looked up at him and stroked his bearded lantern jaw with her fingertips. “And I want to tell you, Sean, you should do what’s best for you too. You be selfish too. That way, neither of us will feel we got into something we didn’t want.”
He hugged her and gazed down into her eyes, his expression filled with emotion. “I’m being selfish now,” he whispered. “I love you. And I’ll do anything to have you.” He kissed her. His fingers lovingly intertwined in her hair. She returned his kiss. McShane’s Ups burned into hers, hard. His kiss had started out gently, but he quickly became lost to passionate intensity.
He pulled back his head and looked at her questioningly. Her eyes were half-lidded as she gazed back at him, giving him the answer he wanted. She nodded ever so slightly. His arm went under her knees, and he lifted her up and carried her toward the cabin.
“No,” she said softly. “Not inside. It’s so beautiful here. Let’s stay here.”
He carried her to a spot under a tall pine tree, where the bright-green grass was particularly thick, and where they could still see out over the expanse of rugged forest land in the valley below. The sky was a brilliant blue with tufts of white clouds. McShane had wanted her ever since he first saw her, Kristin knew, but he had never laid his hands on her. Now that he did so, it was with a loving gentleness she had not expected from such a bear of a man.
Kristin had only given herself freely to one man in her life: Dallas Hunter. Now she had a chance to see the difference between the two men, Hunter and McShane. Whereas Hunter had been naturally domineering and forceful, McShane treated her with reverential awe. It was as if she were on a pedestal, a goddess, and to touch her body, to run his hands over her Ml breasts and down between her thighs, was a sacred act to him. He
took great pleasure from touching and caressing her. He loved watching the effect his strokes were having on her, watching her face as she responded to his touch. Seeing her experiencing pleasure seemed to increase his delight.
He undressed her and then himself. When he stood before her, naked, she was excited and awed at how powerful and masculine his big body was. The largeness of him made her secretly worry. He was just too big and brawny to make love to her in the normal position; he would crush her. McShane solved this problem by making love to her as they laid side by side on the lush green grass. After a few moments, he turned on to his back and positioned her atop him, straddling his hips. He put his hands to her waist and rhythmically started her moving up and down upon him.
The pleasure from this position was intense, especially when his hands moved up to caress her breasts as she continued the rythmic movement. In his eyes and in his every touch she could see how much he truly loved her. Kristin found herself not so much moaning as purring. She had never been made love to by a man who loved her and was not afraid to show it, by a man who clearly displayed his emotions on his face. He was not afraid to let his love be seen by her now.
When she peaked, it was as if stars were shooting overhead, as if a symphony were exploding through her body, electrifying her with rapture. She collapsed down to his chest. McShane stroked her cheek and kissed her softly on the lips. And then he smiled at her warmly.
It was at that moment when she knew she would not be able to keep her emotions in check for very long. Sean McShane was not the sort of man she could let herself be indifferent to—no matter how dearly she wanted, at this point, to avoid complicating her life.
CHAPTER 18
Converting an old building into the sort of casino saloon she had imagined was no easy task. It took a while, and in the process, living as she did, Kristin found herself becoming quite a frontier woman. Her physical appearance changed. Her outlook changed. Almost everything about her changed.
Passion's Wicked Torment Page 17