“God, woman! You’re worse than I thought to offer a man money for, for…”
“For a roll in the hay or the sack, or any other number of euphemisms which describe pure lust. Yes, I’m offering you money. What’s wrong? Don’t you like how it feels? Do you feel dirty, cheap?” Eden shrugged and put the money into the reticule. “You can’t say I didn’t offer to pay your worth.”
Damon shook his head, seemingly unable to fathom the woman before him. “Shamus must have been insane to marry you.”
His comment hurt, but Eden let it slide past her. She didn’t see a reason to deny what he said, realizing it would do little good. Let him think what he wanted about her. She’d turned the tables on him, and now he must see she wasn’t so easy to run off by attempting to seduce her or insult her. All she wanted was her portion of Thunder Mine. To hell with Damon Alexander and what he thought! “Shamus was insane with love for me,” she told him. “Absolutely out of his mind with love.”
“More like he was demented, Mrs. Flynn,” he said curtly, impaling her with those ice-blue eyes. He pulled open the door. “Be ready at five.” It slammed noisily behind him.
Eden clutched her reticule until her knuckles whitened. Clearly he hated her, but she was safe from him as long as he thought she was a skilled whore. The arrogant man had taken great delight in stirring up her passions, and she’d have given in to him. She had stupidly thought that perhaps, just perhaps, Damon Alexander was the man of her dreams. Well, she’d been wrong. Alexander was more of a nightmare, and she must never let him discover her vulnerability. What a silly little virgin she was to think she could find love with such a heartless man.
Still, she wondered how he’d react if he knew the truth about her relationship with Shamus. What would he do if he knew she was a virgin?
“That’s one thing you’ll never know, Damon Alexander,” she mused aloud. “You think you know about me, but you know nothing, and that’s how I intend to keep it.”
Throwing the reticule on the table, Eden started to pack for the journey to Thunder Mine.
Chapter 4
Eden was already waiting when Damon’s knock sounded on her door the next morning. By the light of the gas lamp in the hallway, Eden noticed shadows beneath his eyes, a clear indication that he’d slept no better than she. He hadn’t shaved, either; a thick growth of rough beard covered his face.
“I’m ready,” she told him moments after he’d entered the room. “I do believe in being punctual.” She gave him a curt smile, unwilling to mention what had happened the night before. She decided it was best forgotten.
Damon’s gaze raked her petite form. From her wide-brimmed hat and down across her plaid shirt, snugly tucked into her pants, his eyes looked her over. Mostly they centered on her blue denim legs where the material disappeared into her sturdy brown boots. “You can’t wear those pants,” he told her matter-of-factly.
Eden glanced down at her pants and then at Damon. “Why not, may I ask? You’re wearing them. In fact, most of the men I’ve seen so far in New Zealand wear them. Miners in America do, too.’’
“Aye, that’s the point. Men wear them, not ladies. The men here don’t approve of females wearing pants. Don’t you have a skirt or something else to wear?”
Eden clenched her fists, resisting the urge to bash in Damon’s handsome face. “I’ll wear what I choose. Pants are more comfortable than skirts.”
“But you’ll be the center of attention. The trail to the mine is filled with men who aren’t gentlemen; the miners who work for me won’t understand a female in pants. I won’t take responsibility for your safety, Mrs. Flynn.”
She hated when he called her Mrs. Flynn. It somehow sounded disrespectful, almost like a dirty name on his lips. She also hated his high-handed attitude toward her. One night he practically seduced her because he thought she was a whore, and the next day he worried about keeping her safe from other men! What a strange man was Damon Alexander. But he wasn’t going to dictate to her.
“I remind you, Mr. Alexander,” she said, mimicking his tone of voice, “that the miners work for me, too. As far as the men along the trail, well … they’ll just have to control their unbridled lust. And if I may remind you, sir, you don’t think I’m much of a lady so I see no need for you to worry about my safety. Now, shall we go?”
A shrug of a powerful shoulder was the only indication that Damon had acquiesced. “I’m warning you,” he proclaimed, “this country is wild and untamed. I’m not playing nursemaid to you. You’ll have to learn to see to your own needs.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
“We’ll see.”
Seconds later, Nick appeared at the doorway, politely doffing his hat to Eden, and the two men carried her trunk to a waiting wagon outside the hotel.
The sun hadn’t entirely risen, but the mountains in the distance held a glimmer of gold on their peaks. Eden found the morning chilly and bundled into a heavy coat which the man at the mercantile had insisted she purchase. She was glad now she had, delighting in the coat’s warmth. She also delighted in Nick Patterson’s warmth, his ready humor. He told jokes as the wagon trundled along the road which led out of Queenstown. Even though some of his jokes weren’t that amusing, Eden laughed heartily because it seemed Nick’s attention to her irritated Damon.
During the ride, they passed a number of men on the road. Blankets were tied to their backs and many of them carried shovels and tin pans, their intentions obvious. “Shamus told me the mines had played out,” Eden noted. “Why are there so many people still coming this way?”
“They hope to strike it lucky,” Nick spoke up. “Most of us are still hoping. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to make a find.”
Damon snorted and urged the horse along. “If Sutherland has his way, no one will be free to pan at all. The bastard doesn’t give a damn about any of us.”
“Who is Sutherland?” Eden queried, wondering what person, other than herself, could elicit such a black scowl from Damon.
“Jock Sutherland,” Nick filled her in, “owns a large and prosperous sheep station about five miles from Thunder Mine. He controls the water rights.”
“So?” Eden asked, not understanding the problem and wincing when Damon turned to look at her like she was an ignorant child.
“I thought you said Shamus explained mining to you,” Damon remarked.
“He did … some,” she returned.
“If so, Mrs. Flynn, then he didn’t explain about the water rights or you weren’t listening, probably because you were too involved in your bankbook balance.” Eden’s mouth fell open in protest, but Damon continued smoothly. “Sutherland controls the water rights to a portion of the Shotover River, the same river that runs past Thunder Mine. The water is needed for placer mining and to operate the cradle, which helps separate the gravel from the gold. If Sutherland decides to dam up the river, the mine is done for and my people are out of work.”
“I can’t believe anyone would be so callous as to do such a thing,” was Eden’s innocent response. “Most certainly, it wouldn’t gain this Sutherland person anything.”
“You don’t know Jock Sutherland,” Damon finished dryly.
They continued onward for a few more miles and turned off the main road. Damon slowed the wagon to a stop. He jumped down and turned to Eden. “This is as far as we go. The rest of the trip is on foot.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
Casting an eye on her trunk, Eden looked helplessly about. “What am I to do with my things? What I’m wearing is all I’ve got. All my other clothes are packed.”
Nick smiled at her. “Don’t worry none. I’m going to take care of your things for you. A friend of mine is bringing a pack mule from Arrowtown and will meet me here at noon. I’ll deliver your things to you in good condition, Mrs. Flynn.”
“I’m certain you will,” Eden said, but she felt uneasy about not having her trunk. And realizing she’d be traveli
ng alone with Damon for the rest of the journey didn’t make her feel any better.
She made a move in Damon’s direction, certain he’d help her off of the wagon. However, he stood there with a sack-like bag looped over his belt and a rough blanket slung over one shoulder and calmly surveyed her. When it became apparent that he was letting her fend for herself, she started to get off the buckboard, but Nick jumped forward and helped her down. “I’m pleased that some men in this backward country are gentlemen,” she said loud enough for Damon to hear.
“If we’re so backward, then you shouldn’t have come,” she heard him mumble. Striding up the steep pack trail, he didn’t bother to see if she followed him.
Nick shot her an apologetic smile. Eden pulled her coat tightly about her and sunk her hands into the deep pockets. She forged ahead after Damon. More than once she almost called to him to wait for her, but she held her silence, knowing he’d most probably like for her to whine and complain. Still, she seethed with indignation because it wouldn’t have cost him anything to be courteous and wait for her, or to ask her if she’d care to rest a while.
By the time they reached the top of the hill, Eden was winded. The coat was too warm and she pulled it off, tying the sleeves about her shoulders. Damon abruptly halted and Eden nearly bumped into him. He pointed to the twisting stone road below, interspersed with dry grass, and the abyss-like ravine beside it. The mountainous countryside stretched endlessly before them. “That’s the way to Skipper’s Canyon. The road is going to get steeper as we go along. Are you up to it?”
“Yes,” Eden lied. The ravine was a tangle of tussock grass and spindly-looking plants, and she and Damon were up so high she felt almost dizzy. Perhaps descending it wouldn’t be too bad—at least that’s what she hoped. That Shamus hadn’t mentioned anything about the treacherous trek to the mine caused her to feel betrayed by him. What else might he not have mentioned?
Damon took a canteen from the bag around his belt loop and handed it to her. Her throat felt as parched as the landscape, and she drank greedily from it. “You should have bought one for yourself,’’ Damon said when she handed it back with her thanks.
Eden flushed and didn’t reply. She couldn’t admit that she had bought a canteen from the mercantile but forgot she’d packed it in her trunk. Wouldn’t he just love to know that! She wasn’t willingly going to give him more ammunition to use against escorting her to the mine. She watched while he took a rope from the same sack and tied it around his waist. When he came toward her with the other end of it, she took a step backward.
“Are you going to tie that around me, too?”
“Aye. The way is going to be dangerous and the road thins out in spots. With you tied to me, I can help you along. Just follow in my footsteps and you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if she’d been wrong about him. Perhaps he was a considerate person after all. But he dispelled any warm feelings a few seconds later.
“If you think you might fall over the cliff—”
“Yes?” The thought of such a mishap petrified her.
“Kindly untie yourself and don’t take me with you.”
Was he joking? Eden couldn’t tell because Damon looked so solemn when he took the rope and began looping it about her waist. She could feel his agile fingers through her shirt, evoking the stirring memory of his kiss and the intimate way he’d touched her the night before. Her breath began to come in tiny pants she couldn’t control.
“Goodness but the air is thin up here!” she exclaimed, not wanting him to think he was the reason for her gasps.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said, and gave a hearty tug on the line, forcing her to brush against him. “But if your breathing is an indication of how you react when you’re too close to a man, I’d better hope you don’t attack me.”
“You arrogant lout! My breathing has nothing to do with you. How dare you say something so uncouth to me!”
To Eden’s surprise, Damon reached out and tucked a stray wisp of her hair beneath her hat. To her shock, he actually flashed her a heart-stopping smile. “Your eyes shimmer like greenstone when you’re mad, Yank.”
He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and the fact that he was actually paying her a compliment caused her legs to feel rubbery. But she wouldn’t allow him to see he’d gotten to her again. She didn’t need him to know she quivered each time he as much as glanced in her direction. Instead of smiling back as she longed to do, she stiffened her backbone and forced herself to sound like a haughty matron. “I’ve told you not to call me by that vile name. I won’t answer to it, Mr. Alexander.”
“Suit yourself, Mrs. Flynn.” He showed her his back, seemingly nonplussed by her icy demeanor.
~~~
For the rest of the day, they trekked through mountainous terrain. Damon had been right about staying close behind him. Eden was too frightened of the yawning canyon below not to follow in his every footstep. Sometimes she almost grabbed his shirt for support when the road grew steeper and the climb more arduous. But she didn’t. She was more afraid of touching him and being unable to let go than of losing her balance. His voice was a comfort to her. Each time they were forced to climb higher or descend the twisting turn of the road at an odd angle, Damon calmly warned her beforehand, then assured her she’d be fine. Which she was, but she still couldn’t wait for this interminable trip to end.
Shortly after noon, he’d handed her a biscuit from his sack and they’d rested for a few minutes before continuing. By the time dusk colored the sky all purple and gold, Eden didn’t believe she could walk another step. “How much farther?” she asked as she wiped the grime from her perspiring face, leaving a trail of fingermarks down her cheek.
“About another two miles, but with night coming, we should make camp.”
The thought of sleeping outside hadn’t entered her mind, and she wanted to balk. Her every bone ached and weariness was overtaking her. She barely gave him a nod of understanding. Once more, as she had done all day, she followed after Damon like a docile and trusting puppy.
Damon led her away from the road into a twisting and turning landscape of trees and bushes. Finally, they entered a clearing and stopped before Damon untied her. “I’ll start a fire,” he told her, placing the sack and blanket on the ground. “If you must tend to any personal needs, there are lots of bushes. I promise I won’t peep.”
Catching his meaning, Eden couldn’t help but color a furious shade of red. She made her way into a copse of trees, hoping she wouldn’t fall over the thick, gnarled roots or come across any dangerous wildlife.
When she rejoined Damon, she discovered he’d already started the fire and was warming a small pot filled with water over the open flame. “Thought you might like some tea,” was his response to her unanswered question. She watched through tired eyes as he filled two tin cups with the water, then took a small pouch containing tea from the sack. The tea tasted warm but lightly bitter. Eden drank it nonetheless. The biscuit Damon handed her was left uneaten in her palm as her eyes started to close from exhaustion.
She was vaguely aware of Damon placing the blanket beside her. His voice sounded miles away when he gently told her to lie down and rest. And that was the last thing she remembered until morning.
~~~
Soft streams of sunlight filtered through the nearby trees. Eden was slowly brought to wakefulness by the early-morning cawing and chirping sounds in the forest. A dewy, fresh scent filled the air. Eden breathed deeply, not quite awake, and believed herself to be at home again, before the war, in her own bed. As she hugged her pillow to her breasts, she felt safe and protected. Soon she’d hear her mother’s lyrical laugh floating down the hallway and she’d join her parents in the dining room for breakfast. And, oh, she was suddenly so hungry!
“We’ve got to get a move on.” A deep voice intruded into her twilight state. “The mine is still a good distance away.”
Eden started and opened her eyes. At first she
wasn’t certain where she was. Then reality dawned and as she glanced around. She saw the nearby trees and realized she was lying on the ground, half wrapped in a blanket whose rough material grazed her cheek. She turned her head back to find herself looking directly at Damon’s handsome, smiling face. Not only was he grinning down at her, but she quickly discovered he was holding her in his arms. Her bottom was pressed intimately and shamelessly against him. Worst of all, she could feel his very evident arousal.
“What are you doing?” she mouthed, not hiding her shock.
“Waking up.”
“How dare you try taking advantage of me in my sleep. You’re a despicable man, a horrible—”
“Hold on now!” Damon thundered near her ear. “You’re under my blanket, remember. I don’t recall seeing you bring anything to sleep on, or eat and drink. I’ve fed and watered you the last day—”
“You talk as if I’m a plant!”
“That’s because you are one. You’re like a hothouse flower who needs care. You’re totally unsuited to this way of life and the sooner you realize it, the better off you’ll be.”
Eden’s eyes flared. “Oh, you’d like it if I gave up and turned back, wouldn’t you? Well, I won’t. And if you think to take advantage of me, you’re sadly mistaken. I’ll fight and scratch and bite. What happened to my mother won’t happen to me!”
Damon assessed her with a look which contained both bafflement and anger. “If I wanted to make love to you, Mrs. Flynn, I’d much prefer you awake and alert. But you’re sleeping under my blanket, and I didn’t intend to shiver all night long just to play the gentleman with you.”
“Which we both know you’re not,” she shrewishly taunted.
“Aye, I’m not a gentleman who wears fancy clothes and doles out good cash to impress a witch who thinks she’s better than him.” His eyes narrowed to slits and his voice lowered to an intimate whisper. “And if you’re thinking you’re a lady, think again. You were clinging to my arm around you, holding it against your breasts. And your delectable round bottom seemed to enjoy pushing against me. Nay, I’m not a gentleman, but a man. And you’re the type of woman who could make a saint lose control with that kind of teasing.”
Lynette Vinet Page 4