Forbidden Fire

by Bonnie K. Winn

“Let me worry about that,” Sadie replied.

  “You ladies all look very lovely tonight,” Jake commented. Plain Bessie Johnson and bashful Sadie Browning blushed in unison. Compliments seemed as scarce as rain in this vast prairie country.

  The Rankins edged up beside them, smiling shyly. “Reverend, Miss Katherine,” they both echoed. Their timid support was touching.

  Jake shook Adam Rankin’s hand, and Katherine smiled at his wife. “Are you and your family getting along all right now?”

  Olivia Rankin smiled. “Better than ever. I don’t know how we’ll ever be able to thank you.”

  Katherine noted the curious glances directed their way. “You already have.”

  “If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to ask Miss Katherine for a dance,” Jake broke in.

  Murmurs of agreement floated around them as Jake offered his hand. Katherine closed her eyes, breathed her own silent prayer, and accepted his outstretched hand. As they turned and swirled over the makeshift floor, Katherine again managed to forget the gawking eyes and disapproving expressions.

  The silence dissipated and was soon filled with the loud sounds of celebrating cowboys. The local men were having to step quickly to keep their girls from tumbling into all the eager sets of arms. As always, there were far more men than single women. In a way, that was a blessing. The townsfolk had more to worry about than their minister’s trip down a sin-filled road. Right now they had daughters and sweethearts to concern themselves with. Occasionally a cowhand with serious intentions captured a girl’s heart and then settled in the community. More often, the girl was left behind, sometimes with no choice but to become a soiled dove, much like some of the girls working the Crystal Palace.

  Jake deliberately made eye contact with those who still stared at them. He wasn’t really sure whom he was challenging—his congregation or himself. But after a year of walking a tight rope, it was a relief to be himself, not a faded copy of something he was hoping to be. What did that say of his commitment?

  As time passed, Jake forgot the stares and their surroundings. Concentrating on the sensations Katherine evoked, he drew her unresisting body closer. The babble faded away as she raised her heart-shaped face. The emotions he knew she carefully banked behind a composed mask now flitted across her dark eyes, pulling at him. In a flash he knew this was no fleeting fancy. He had come to care for this enigmatic woman who refused to share her past. Grateful for the slow waltz, he savored the feel of her against him.

  Trembling, Katherine allowed Jake to pull her as close as decently possible. Self-conscious at being the target of so many stares, she gripped his hand tightly. When he responded by meeting her eyes with a look of hot desire, she abandoned her concern about those watching. Normally such blatant passion repulsed her. But coming from Jake, it ignited a matching response. For the first time in her life, a touch didn’t feel like an insult. The trembling turned into a hot wave, one that shuddered through her body as the liquid fire consumed her.

  She felt the imprint of his hands as they guided her through the dance. Breathing became difficult as her heart pounded painfully close to his. Glancing up, she saw the pulse at his throat, seeming to beat in ragged unison with hers. Every nerve ending in her body came alive, and she was convinced Jake could see and feel her reaction. Daring another glance at his face as they turned to the music, she was shaken by the intensity of his gaze.

  The fiddler broke into a schottische, and Katherine was relieved to end the painfully delicious contact. Then the musicians played a few polkas, the galop, and finally the Virginia reel. Exhausted, Jake and Katherine stopped to rest and search for a glass of refreshing punch. Katherine settled on a bale of hay, and he stood beside her, eyeing the painstakingly decorated barn, realizing how different it was from what he’d been used to all his life. It was a far cry from the sophisticated dances in the East.

  As his gaze roamed, he encountered David Browning’s steady regard. While the boy’s eyes didn’t hold judgment, it was apparent they were assessing both his minister and the woman who sat beside him. Jake remembered his advice to the boy about controlling desire. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if that advice had just been rendered inoperable.

  Even as the thought thundered through him, he heard angry shouts.

  “Jake, I’m afraid there’s going to be a fight.” Katherine turned worried eyes to his.

  Jake spotted the trouble in an instant. Young Ben Turner stood belligerently in front of a man at least twice his size. Apparently the cowhand had taken a fancy to Ben’s girl.

  “Get your hands off her, I said!” Ben’s voice crashed over the music and noise of other voices.

  The cowhand’s fist pounded into Ben’s face unexpectedly, and he dropped back, hitting the floor, his nose spewing blood. Jake pushed his way forward, grabbing the cowhand by the shoulder and spinning him around.

  “That’s enough. The boy’s not half your size.”

  “But you are.” The man swung, but Jake ducked the blow easily.

  “You’ve had your fun. Now go on home and sleep it off,” Jake cautioned, hoping his words would work, feeling instinctively they wouldn’t.

  Ben jumped up, his nose forgotten. “He’s not getting away with pawing my girl, Reverend.”

  “Reverend?” The cowhand jeered. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to pray over me and hope I fell down?”

  Without warning, the cowhand drew his hand back again, and Jake ducked the punch.

  “What’s the matter, preacher? Can’t stand still and take it like a man?”

  Jake’s fist flew so fast, it connected with the other man’s gut before he even saw it coming. Doubled over, the cowhand moaned in agony.

  Stepping back, barely winded, Jake turned to the gaping crowd. “That’s enough entertainment, folks. Get that fiddle going again, Johnny Mack.” The harmonica and violin warbled for a moment before a recognizable tune emerged. A couple of heavyset ranchers dragged the cowboy outside, and everyone milled around a bit before partners found each other and resumed dancing.

  Jake turned to find Katherine and saw her staring at him. It was obvious from the expression on her face that he could delay the truth no longer. He wasn’t sure whether it was dread or relief that filled him.

  Chapter 20

  They worked side by side in companionable silence for hours. The rows of healthy vegetables were almost free of weeds now. Caesar, the kitten, pranced between them for a while, then tired of the game and curled up to sleep in the abundant sunshine. Dressed simply, Katherine dug into the dirt, obviously happy at her task.

  “You thirsty?” he asked finally. He’d been ready to take a break for at least an hour.

  “I guess so,” she answered, not taking her attention from the plants.

  “I’ll get something cool to drink.” He dusted off his hands and went in search of some refreshment. He brought back a pitcher and two glasses, interrupting her work with an insistent nudge.

  Glancing up, she smiled. Realizing he’d curbed his impatience in order to talk, she accepted the glass of juice and walked with him to the porch swing. She knew she couldn’t delay the discussion any longer. And though she wanted to share his secrets, she wasn’t sure she could reveal her own. The air ruminated with the cry of birds that were now regular visitors to the garden.

  They rocked gently until Jake spoke. “You never told me whether you have any family.”

  “A sister,” Katherine blurted out, realizing she’d taken a giant step toward trust, knowing this time had eventually come.

  “Younger or older?”

  Katherine smiled. “Younger.”

  “You sound fond of her.” Jake’s eyes darkened in concentration as he watched her face.

  “Very. Beth’s…well, she’s Beth.”

  “No parents?”

  Her face softened in memory. “They’ve been dead for fourteen years.”

  “A long time for you two to be alone.”

  Katherine sifted through
the memories, both good and bad. “That it is.”

  “It’s good you had each other.”

  She glanced at him in surprise.

  “To support each other,” he explained.

  “Beth was only six when our parents died.” A dart of pain flashed at that particularly cruel set of memories.

  “Then you were practically alone.” Jake sat up and stared at her. “You couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen yourself.”

  “Fourteen.”

  “How in the world did a fourteen-year-old support two children?” he asked in disbelief.

  Silence hung between them as realization dawned on his features.

  “I sang,” she answered simply.

  He kept his face carefully blank, knowing her trust could be shattered in an instant. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

  “I didn’t have any other choice.”

  He could see that, and in his mind it made her occupation acceptable. Throughout his growing attraction to her, he hadn’t been able to reconcile her decision to become a saloon singer. But there had never been a decision. A frightened orphan, she’d had no other choice. He held a hand out and stroked her soft skin. He wondered what other memories she’d buried behind those luminous eyes. Wishing he’d known her then, he wanted to offer her the acceptance she’d been denied for so long.

  Draping an arm around her shoulders, he offered comfort. He knew it wasn’t time to demand or to want. For a long time they watched the birds bathe in the stone bath Katherine had ordered from the big catalog at the mercantile. Finally she raised her head. “What about you, Jake? Did you have many choices?”

  They chased through his mind, a honeycomb of memories. “I was luckier than you in ways. I had more choices, but I didn’t make the right ones.”

  “Do you want to tell me about them?”

  Did he? Did he want to expose his soul? Empty his darkest secrets? She deserved his honesty. “You’ve been right all along.” He thought back to their second meeting months ago. “I haven’t been a preacher for long.”

  She nodded her head against his shoulder in agreement.

  “Before that I was a boxer.”

  When she didn’t show any signs of shock, he pulled away and faced her. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I didn’t know for sure, but Morgan’s dragged me to enough matches to know you fight like a professional.”

  Jake stared at her in consternation. “Haven’t I fooled anyone?”

  “Yourself, perhaps.”

  He rose from the swing, pacing the area near the porch. If he was so transparent, his identity was obviously at risk. And still he hadn’t told Katherine the most important part. The piece of the puzzle that explained why he was here, trying desperately to be a preacher.

  “Is it that important?” Katherine asked, joining him. “You’re a minister now. Does it matter so much what you were before?”

  “To me it does. I’m not proud of that time, Katherine.”

  “Boxing can be a brutal sport, I’ll agree. But most men wouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

  “I’m not most men,” he said simply. Her face shuttered closed, and he tipped her chin upward. “I’m really not.”

  “I suppose somewhere deep down I realize that. You’re the only person other than Morgan who knows this much about my past.”

  “You must have been terrified.” He sat back down beside her. “Alone, responsible for yourself and your little sister.”

  “I tried scrubbing floors, you know.”

  Jake attempted unsuccessfully to hide his shock.

  “It’s all right. A lot of years have gone by since then. I was lucky I had a talent I could use.” She smiled grimly. “Singing in saloons may not make me socially acceptable, but it paid well.”

  “Where’s your sister now?” Jake captured her hand, enclosing it in his. The surge of protectiveness surprised him. But then, almost everything about Katherine did.

  “Back East. I never wanted her to go through what I did.”

  An array of disgusting scenarios surfaced in Jake’s mind, and he shook them away. “Does she know about your sacrifices?”

  Katherine glanced down. “Not all of them. I don’t want her to, either. I want her to marry well.”

  It was a noble idea, but Jake wondered if it were a feasible plan. “It’s better now, isn’t it?” he asked, referring to the business she owned.

  “Much. I control what goes on. The rules are clear. I don’t tolerate groping, repugnant men who—”

  Jake reached his hand out and silenced her. He couldn’t bear to hear the details. His imagination could fill in the gaps without help, and he wished he could shut out the images her words conjured up. “That’s over now. Is your sister planning to marry soon?”

  “She hasn’t settled on one special man yet.” She paused, her voice contemplative. “I suppose she has several handsome young beaux.”

  “Like you once did?”

  Katherine’s face closed. “I’ve never wanted suitors, Jake.” Her body was her own, the only thing completely under her control. It was one of the reasons she’d wanted to leave the big cities. Despite the ostracism she encountered in rural areas, she didn’t have to endure suitors who assumed that after being escorted to the theater or to dinner that she would be a willing bed partner.

  She and Morgan had tried several big cities, including San Francisco and Denver. The men in both places had the same expectations. Because their saloon catered to a highly influential clientele, it was bad for business when she turned down their dinner or theater invitations. Kansas seemed like paradise in comparison. Cowhands didn’t expect the time of day from the famous Kitty O’Shea.

  Katherine and Jake continued swinging in silence on the rickety porch glider. Morgan’s whistle interrupted the quiet as he came around the corner.

  “There you are. I was hoping to get in some sparring.” Morgan pushed back his hat and eyed their glasses of cool juice.

  “I’ll get you something to drink,” Katherine offered, rising from the swing, unconsciously distancing herself from Jake in Morgan’s presence.

  Morgan sat down on the step. “She trap you into working in the garden again?”

  “She didn’t have to con me.” Jake stood from the swing and stretched.

  “Oh?” Morgan’s voice was unusually low.

  “Yeah. I wanted to talk to her, and it’s been a long time overdue.”

  Morgan examined Jake’s face. “What were you talking about?”

  “How she came to be a saloon singer.”

  “She told you about that?” Morgan kept his face free of reaction.

  “Yeah. It makes a lot of things clearer.”

  “Uh-huh.” Morgan pulled a cigar from his pocket.

  Jake laughed as he glanced down at his friend. “I don’t need to tell you this.”

  Lighting his cigar, Morgan waved the smoke away. “Guess not. I was there.”

  Surprised, Jake dropped to the step across from Morgan. “Since you were both fourteen?”

  “I was a year older,” Morgan corrected.

  “You’ve got a history together.”

  Morgan smoked silently.

  “I guess you know how I feel about her. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  Morgan’s gaze narrowed. “I hope not.”

  “You don’t really think I planned this, do you?” Jake stared at his friend.

  Morgan puffed on his cigar, not answering as Katherine walked up with a cool glass of juice. She held it out, but Morgan didn’t take it. He stood instead.

  “You want to go a round, then?” Jake asked.

  “Not today.” Morgan walked toward the saloon.

  Jake stared at Katherine and then at Morgan’s retreating back. Something had changed in that moment. Katherine might consider Morgan a brother, but from the stiffness of Morgan’s reaction, Jake didn’t think his friend’s feelings were brotherly.

  In revealing his growing cl
oseness to Katherine, Jake sensed he’d pushed Morgan farther away and relinquished part of a friendship that he’d come to depend on.

  “Is something wrong with Morgan?” Katherine asked, still holding the glass in her hand.

  Jake felt the sadness rise in him. Why did every victory mean a loss? “I don’t think I’m the only man interested in you, Katherine.”

  She looked puzzled for a moment. “You don’t mean Morgan? He and I are…” Her voice trailed off. What were they? Partners, family, indivisible allies? Had this changed somehow when her thoughts had shifted toward Jake?

  The forces keeping them apart had multiplied. It was one thing to battle the conscience of the town. It was another to battle her own champion. Gazing at the now empty path, Katherine wasn’t sure she could undertake that struggle.

  Chapter 21

  The roulette wheel spun under the glitter of light from the cut-glass chandeliers. Cowhands stood three and four deep, waiting to risk their money on a roll of dice, the turn of the wheel, or the luck of the cards. Dealers under Morgan’s supervision dealt three-card monte, roulette, and twenty-one.

  But Morgan controlled faro himself. “Place your bets, gentlemen.”

  The chips flew in. Most were red and blue, ranging in value from one to ten dollars. His eyebrows rose when three yellow chips were laid precisely in a single row by a cowhand who held on to Annette with one hand and a full bottle of whiskey with the other. She laughed and threw back her dark mane of hair when he placed the bet. Yellow chips cashed out at a hundred dollars each. There weren’t many cowhands willing to gamble that much. But the yellow chips were placed against three cards on the layout. All three lost.

  Morgan gauged the man’s reaction, but his attention was diverted when Jake sat down in the chair closest to his.

  “What are you doing here, Reverend?”

  Morgan continued shuffling the cards, and the other men at the table didn’t even glance in Jake’s direction. Too many preachers in the West were merely drunks looking for a hand-out. The collection plate was often a handy method. Many lonely cowhands believed no preacher could threaten a hell worse than the one they had on earth.