"I am convincing myself I can travel to Portland on a boat," she admitted. He knew of her fears, so there was no need to lie.
His arm went around her waist and Siri found herself leaning into his embrace. She had missed him these nights alone in his bed at the hotel. Her loneliness was her own fault, though, for she had been afraid to stay at the Chinese store without him.
Last night she would have given anything to have been there. Every hour the sound of someone turning her doorknob had pulled her from troubled sleep.
"I talked to the dispatcher. We can take the Maribelle Monday or wait for the Kehloka. She'll be back Monday night and will leave for Portland early Tuesday."
"Will you...can we wait until Tuesday? I need the time to..." She gestured at the river, hoping he would understand. The Kehloka was reputed to be the safest steamer on the rivers.
"I'm in no hurry. Sure, we'll wait."
"And may we go back to the Chinese store? I am trivs inte...not comfortable at the hotel."
He looked down at her, all softness gone from his expression. "Is someone bothering you?"
"Nej. At least...I do not think so."
"Siri, what happened? What's got you so upset?"
She avoided meeting his gaze, for he would see more than she wanted him to know. "I am not upset. I am merely tired. My dreams, they are troubling. Many times each night I wake. Last night I could not go back to sleep."
"You're lying! Something more than dreams kept you awake." His expression was skrämmande. In an instant he had gone from a handsome man to a fierce warrior.
"It was nothing. I am being fänig." She tried to sound unconcerned, but her voice betrayed her.
"Siri," he said, as he tilted her chin up with a finger, "what really happened."
She shook her head. "It is nothing. Only someone at the door each night."
"Each night? And you didn't tell me?"
"It is nothing," she repeated. "The men, they see you behaving as if I am your woman, and they wonder if I am available."
Taking her arm, Buffalo turned her around and pulled her along with him as he walked toward the Chinese store. "It happened every night? Just once?"
"Only once. Until--" Again she bit her lip.
"Until? Go on."
"Last night he came back. Again and again. He did not try to force the door. He only turned the knob, back and forth, back and forth, as if he was playing with it." She could not stop the shudder that went through her. There had been such an impression of menace in the way the doorknob had turned so slowly, making a small rattle with each turn. As if whoever was turning it was telling her she was only safe behind the door because he allowed her to be.
"Well, hell! That does it. You're going back to the Chinese store, and you'll stay there until we get on that steamer."
She looked up at him. "Will you...will you be there too?"
"You're damn right I'll be there. I'm not leaving you alone again."
Buff left her locked in the room behind the Chinese store while he went to fetch her things. He'd have brought her back yesterday, but she'd seemed content at the hotel. He still felt a little guilty about taking advantage of her when she was injured. There she'd been, hurting, exhausted, and scared, and he'd been unable to keep his hands off of her.
If he hadn't been tired and sore and still a little disoriented from the blow on his head, he might have had the strength of will to resist her, the first time. But he didn't have that excuse from all the other times he'd taken her. At least he'd had the sense to pull out, after those first two times...
Great God, she is delicious! Like a young doe, all strength and heart. Her skin was the softest thing he'd ever touched, and her mouth the sweetest he'd tasted. And the fire she hid behind her cool, Northern surface, like one of the volcanoes he'd peered into the mouth of, snow on the surface and a blazing cauldron of passion beneath.
What would she say if he asked her to go back to Idaho with him? Her and her kids, of course.
Wouldn't Ma be tickled if he brought home a ready-made family? She was always writing about all the kids in the family, and bemoaning the fact that none of 'em were named Lachlan.
What am I thinking? I'm not ready to settle yet!
He crossed Lafayette Street and started up the path that led to the hotel's back yard. As he passed the big maple, he heard a rustling in the underbrush, more than the gentle sound of falling rain. Since 'coons and other critters lived there, he didn't think much of it. Not until he reached the edge of the yard and something moved at the corner of his vision.
He kept moving, but swept his eyes back and forth. The shadows under the big spruce could have hid half an army, with room to spare. Walking wide of its drooping branches, he approached the back door.
At the top of the porch steps, he paused and looked back. Nothing. The late afternoon light had turned the yard into a place of shadows and secrets, and the misty rain cloaked everything in a gray curtain.
"I'm in a hurry, Chu," he said as he passed through the kitchen. "I just came after Siri's things. She's going back to Mrs. Leong's"
"Ver' good. She not welcome here. Boss lady having fit this afternoon, say she not work here more."
If it had been up to Buff, she wouldn't have lifted so much as a finger to help out after the poison episode. But she was as stubborn as he, and he hadn't felt her willingness to lend a hand was worth fighting about.
Carleen poked her head into his room as he packed Siri's clothes into the straw valise Mrs. Leong had provided. His clothes had gone into his cases willy-nilly. He didn't care how they looked, he just wanted out of here. The old witch. After all Siri did to help out when she was almost too sick to walk herself. Everyone else appreciates what she did, but does the Welkins woman? No, all she can think of is that Siri may have acted like a real woman instead of a dry stick. Well, I'll be damned if I'll stay where my woman isn't wanted.
"My woman?" Had he really thought that?
Siri wasn't his woman.
Was she?
He caught Carleen as she was on her way down to serve supper. "I've packed everything up. Will you get someone to bring my gear down to the Chinese store tomorrow? I'm checking out."
"I don't blame you, the way Mrs. W is carrying on. Why you'd think Siri set herself up in business in your bedroom. The old besom!"
He picked up the valise. "We'll be heading to Portland on Tuesday. Come by the Chinese store tomorrow, if you get a chance. Siri'll want to say goodbye." Halfway through the kitchen door, he paused. "And Carleen? Thanks. For being a good friend to Siri."
The rain had let up when he stepped out, and the sky had gone from gray to black. A single lantern at the corner of the house lit a small circle of yard, but its light didn't extend even as far as the spruce tree. Buff decided to take the streets, even though doing so would make the walk back to the Chinese store a couple of blocks farther. He went up the sloping path beside the house and out the front gate.
He started down the steep street, wondering how the locals ever got around at night. He felt as if he was walking into a deep tunnel, pitch dark except for a line of lanterns showing the way to town. Carefully, for the road was muddy and slick, he started down the hill.
At the bottom, Lafayette Street leveled considerably as it went along the side of the orchard. Buff felt a prickle of apprehension as he made his way past the even darker mass of bare-branched apple trees. Siri had been attacked right along here.
It was a perfect place for an ambush.
Chapter Twenty-four
Buffalo decreed they would remain in the little room behind the Chinese store until they departed for Portland. On Saturday morning, Siri woke to find him staring at her. He lay on his side, head propped on one hand, and his other hand playing with her hair.
"It's like milkweed silk." He smiled. "I'll bet you don't know what milkweed silk is, do you?"
Siri shook her head and willed her hands to be still. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to reas
sure herself he was here again, in her bed. "I am not certain I want to be compared to a weed," she said. "What does it look like?"
"I'll tell you later." He tugged on the lock of hair, pulling her toward him. "But first..." His mouth claimed hers, and Siri gave herself up to familiar passion.
She was still surprised each time he made love to her. Never had she felt so cherished, so precious. Buffalo took his time, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. He nibbled at her earlobe until shivers chased down her spine and gåshud pebbled the skin of her arms. When she lay quivering in his arms, he transferred his attention to her breasts, catching the nipples between his lips, flicking them with his tongue.
Siri was beyond thought when he finally took one turgid nipple in his mouth and suckled. "Please," she said. Over and over. "Please...please...please!"
She was caught on a wave of need, lifted high, held there. On and on it came, and she was borne on its foaming crest, helpless.
And then it broke, and she fell, screaming. And found herself caught within Buffalo's arms and held, safely, securely.
Unwilling--unable!--to move, she lay in the safety of his embrace, listening for the words she longed to hear. But he said nothing, only crooned a wordless tone as he stroked her into a sense of utter well-being.
An eternity later, he said, "My arm's going to sleep."
She blinked. "Your arm..." Something moved under her waist.
"You're holding it down."
When she realized her weight held it to the bed, she rolled aside. A draft swept along her body. When had he removed her nightgown? Before she could shiver, he had covered her with the quilt.
Siri lay quietly in his embrace as he slipped into sleep. Each moment was precious to her, for soon there would be no more of them. Surely once he had helped her regain her children, he would resume his search for the lost girl. Lying in the dark room last night, listening to him breathe, she had admitted to herself that she loved him.
Each time he made love to her, the love grew, until it all but overwhelmed her.
She had loved him since the day in Li Ching's office, or perhaps even before that. Perhaps when she had felt the strength of his arms in his room, when someone had searched it. He had been angry and had believed she had been the searcher, yet he had not been rough, had not hurt her.
Even believing she had tried to steal from him, he had treated her with gentleness. No man had ever held her with such care. Except her father.
"That's some pretty fancy wool you're gatherin'."
"Vad? What did you say?" Sometimes he seemed to speak a foreign language.
His chuckle warmed her heart. "I asked you what serious thoughts you were thinking." His finger touched the space between her brows. "You had these two little lines here, and your eyes were looking a long ways off."
"I was thinking what a good man you are."
"Don't talk nonsense," he said, as he rolled away and got to his feet. Naked, he seemed slimmer than when he was clothed. His chest and shoulders were well muscled, but his waist was narrow and his flanks lean. Seeing him like this, she marveled at the sheer beauty of him, so unlike any man she had ever known.
Of course, she had only seen one other man unclothed, so she had little to compare him with. But she knew without any doubt that there were few men anywhere as breathtakingly handsome--no, beautiful!--as Buffalo Lachlan.
Unmoving, she watched him clothe himself, his motions graceful and efficient. Was there nothing he did not do well? "Must we really stay in this small room for two more days?" she said, as he was slipping into his waistcoat. "I know it is safe, but there are no windows, and only the one chair." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she bit her lip. They had sounded so retlig...so whining.
"I'm afraid so. But when my luggage gets here, my trunk will give us another seat." His smile flashed. "I reckon there's a book or two in there you haven't read yet."
"What are they?"
"Well, there's one I'm taking home to my sisters. It's called 'Alice's something-or-other'. The fellow I got it from said it was a fine book for grownups as well as for kids. I took a look at it, but when I saw it was about talking animals, I didn't think much of it."
"Oh, I would like that! Are there feer? Fairies?"
He shouldered into his jacket. "I don't think so. Look, I'm going up to talk to Longstreet. I'll be back in a while. If my things have come, I'll have someone bring 'em to you. The books are in the trunk, so help yourself."
"But you said we must stay here!"
"I'm just going across the way. Nobody'll see me."
Before she could protest, he'd bent and kissed her. "Bar the door." Then he was gone, slipping through the door and pushing it shut behind him.
Siri obeyed, more because she was truly frightened of intruders than inclined to obey him. She shot the bolt with enough force that her fingers slipped off and slammed into the door jamb. Sucking on the stinging tips, she went back to the pallet and sat down. "Dominerande odjur," she said. "Din brutala människa. Beast!"
When she had called Buffalo every unkind epithet she knew, she felt much better.
* * *
"Not a trace." Longstreet shook his head. "Whoever went after your woman, he's disappeared like smoke. A couple of my boys went along with Li Ching's the next day, and didn't find anything new."
"She's not..." Buff shut his mouth with a snap. After a moment, he said, "He's still around. I'm sure of that."
"Oh, I won't argue. Someone put those poison mushrooms in the soup. What's more, I have a hunch he's the same one who did the killings." Longstreet removed the cigar from his mouth and inspected it. "It doesn't make sense otherwise. Two women killed the same savage way. Then that attack on Mrs. Trogen. The poisoning up at the hotel. And now you say someone was trying to get into her room."
"Somebody's watching the Chinese store, too," Buff told him. "A big fellow, dressed like a logger, with a full beard and bushy eyebrows. Nothing else to distinguish him. I told Mu Far to let him be, but to follow him. The man's good. He's lost Mu Far every time."
"I heard. Li Ching thought I should know about it."
"You two are getting pretty chummy all of a sudden."
Longstreet chuckled. "Li Ching and I are competitors, naturally, but we're also fellow businessmen. Any sort of to-do that's bad for business is our concern, and when that happens, we cooperate." He leaned forward and tapped on his desk. "We cooperate with the police too, if it's to our benefit. I vouched for you to Gillespie, or he might have been a bit more busy about your affairs. You came to town about the right time. You started a brawl in the saloon. And you took up with the Chinese, something no ordinary white man would do."
"I'm obliged." Buff sat back and looked at Longstreet. "I can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with the life I've led the past while."
"It's possible. You've had a lot of opportunities to make enemies, I'm sure."
Buff shook his head. "Of course I have, but I wouldn't have thought any of them would care enough to follow me so far. I haven't done any active work since I left Europe, and that's been more than a year ago. I've just carried messages."
"Sometimes that's enough. Watch your back, Buff. Whoever it is may be trying to get to you through your woman. "
"Well, I won't be prowling around after dark, that's for sure. We're going to Portland in a few days. That should show whether this is all coincidence, or if there's something going on here we need to deal with."
"And if there's no coincidence involved?"
"Then I'll deal with it. Once and for all."
Chapter Twenty-five
No matter how Siri tried to stretch out the time between Saturday and Monday, the hours slid by faster than they should. Inexorably each minute ticked away, bringing her closer and closer to the moment she must board the steamer for Portland.
Why am I so afraid? I only fell into the water. Min far's boat was nearby. I was never in any danger. He would have risked his own life
to save me.
This is not the sea. The river is not so dangerous, especially for the steamers. Only to the small boats.
Like Valter's gill-netter. Tiny shells of wood top-heavy with sail.
The Kehloka is like a floating hotel. Enormous. Did not Captain Stokes say she was the safest boat on the river? I will be in no danger.
Yet each time she tried to picture herself setting foot on the gangplank of the Kehloka, her throat grew tight, stopping her breath.
Perhaps if I drink much whiskey? Men always seem more daring, more bold when they are drunk. Would I lose my fear?
Siri hated the taste of whiskey.
I will not let fear rule me, she told herself again and again. For too many years fear had shaped her life, determined her future. Fear of being left alone had sent her into Valter's arms, when her mamma had gone to California. Fear had kept her from insisting that she and Valter have a place of their own, instead of living with Martine. And fear was why she still had not found her children.
Oh, Rosel, Rolf, are you happy? Do you sleep warm? Do you miss me?
"I will go," she said. "I will!"
"Huh? Did you say something?" Buffalo laid aside the book he was reading.
"No, I...I was talking to myself. Pay no mind."
He grinned. "Ma always said she talked to herself because she knew she'd get an intelligent answer. Is that your excuse?"
"Nej," she said, laughing in spite of her troubled mind. "I talk to myself when I think others will see how dum I am being. You do not want to hear what I said."
He rolled toward her and caught her ankle in one big hand. "Oh, yeah? C'mere!" With a sharp tug he pulled her off the chair and on top of him. She gasped as his hands went to her ribs. "Tell me," he said, wrapping one leg over hers so she could not kick him. He wiggled his fingers. "Tell me or I'll torture it out of you."
Siri realized he had caught her in such a way that her injured shoulder was protected. His careful hold on her also prevented her from struggling effectively. She gasped as his fingers found a kittlig place on her ribs. "Ah, nej! Nej! Do not...oh! Please!"
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