Rainbow Fire

by Emilie Richards

  "I haven't decided yet," she said, still watching Dillon. "I might just stay here."

  "Gonna do a little mining?" Melly asked, scraping a fleck of paint off the table with a blood-red fingernail.

  Kelsey had only made her comment to see Dillon's reaction. Now Melly's question stopped her cold, and she forgot about Dillon entirely. Kelsey faced the other woman. "What did you say?"

  "Are you gonna do a little mining? You know, find a few opals down in Jake's mine while you're here?"

  Kelsey couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that possibility. Sergeant Newberry had as much as suggested it, but she had been too immersed in grief. Now she considered the idea. There was nothing she could do for Jake in Adelaide. She couldn't even see him. But there was something she could do for him in Coober Pedy. She could keep an eye on the Rainbow Fire mine and Dillon Ward at the same time. Maybe she could even find some opal.

  "Yeah, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do," Kelsey said, warming to the idea. "As his only living relative, I'm sure I must have the legal right, especially if I don't intend to sell anything I find."

  Dillon broke her train of thought. "You're not going down into the mine."

  Kelsey hadn't expected enthusiasm from Dillon, but neither had she expected him to forbid her. "You don't think so?" she said casually. "How do you plan to stop me? I'm not as easy to sneak up on as my father." She heard Melly draw a sharp breath, but Kelsey didn't take her eyes from Dillon's. "I have all Jake's good reflexes, and I know how to guard my back."

  "There's nothing you can do here that would help matters."

  "No? Whose matters wouldn't I help?"

  Melly stood, obviously uncomfortable. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to settle this by yourselves."

  Kelsey stood, too. "I think I'll take that beer after all."

  "Kelsey."

  She turned her head over one shoulder and raked Dillon with a haughty gaze. He had said her name with all the finesse of a drill sergeant. "What?"

  "How do you plan to mine the Rainbow Fire without my help?"

  "I imagine Sergeant Newberry will help me think of a way."

  "Newberry's a toad, but even he won’t want a woman down that mine."

  She tossed her hair behind her shoulders. "We'll see."

  Kelsey was halfway across the room before trouble came looking for her. A young dark-haired man who was shooting pool backed in her direction. With some fancy footwork, Kelsey just managed to avoid cushioning the wrong end of his cue in her thigh. She frowned briefly before she started toward the bar again.

  She stopped when strong fingers bit into her shoulders. Kelsey allowed herself to be turned.

  "Y'almost lost the game for me, doll."

  The words were as ridiculous as the accent. The man wasn't a native Australian. Wherever he was from, he had learned to speak English by watching old Hollywood gangster movies. Kelsey knew a Jimmy Cagney imitation when she heard one.

  "If you almost lost the game," she said politely, "it's because you weren't paying attention." She lifted her shoulders to dislodge his hands, but the young man gripped them harder.

  "I'd rather lose the game than you."

  Kelsey put all body systems on alert. "I don't like being manhandled."

  "Maybe y'haven't been handled by a real man."

  The macho pretense was so overblown it was laughable. But Kelsey knew better than to smile. "Please let go of me," she said as pleasantly as she could.

  "Let her go, Serge. We've got a game to finish," said the man standing beside the table.

  "Let go of me, Serge," Kelsey echoed, her eyes locked with his faintly bloodshot ones.

  "A kiss to make up for causing trouble."

  Kelsey had never been the kind of woman who could flirt her way out of situations. She knew that Serge was slightly drunk and showing off, but he was really no more than a boy just coming into manhood. Melly would have wrapped her arms around him and kissed him until he was embarrassed enough to push her away. Kelsey's response was different.

  "Let go of me now," she said quietly, "and we can both forget this happened."

  "Forget?" Serge laughed loudly. "How'm I gonna forget you, doll?"

  Kelsey sighed as he pulled her closer. "I'm afraid you're not," she said just before she twisted and brought her elbow sharply against his ribs. His howl of pain accompanied the release of her shoulders. He bent over momentarily, hugging his midsection.

  Kelsey backed away a step. "Are you all right?" she asked solicitously.

  He straightened, snarling in a language she didn't understand. When he lunged at her in an excess of ruined manly pride, she simply danced aside and watched him sprawl to the floor.

  The room was suddenly silent. Even the taped music had come to an end. Before anyone could reach them, Kelsey squatted beside Serge. "Are you all right?" she asked loudly enough for the men nearest her to hear. "I'm afraid you slipped on something. The floor's pretty slick."

  "Leave me alone."

  "I'm so sorry. I guess you just had some bad luck." She stood, almost colliding with Dillon. Since the entire episode had taken only seconds, she knew he must have left his chair at the first sign of trouble.

  He took her arm with all the courtesy of a grappling hook and guided her away from the other men. "You're Jake's brat all right. Nothing he likes better than a barroom brawl."

  Her eyes narrowed. "That's me. Born to fight."

  Dillon pulled her toward the bar. Serge's pool partner was already helping him to his feet. "Only difference is that Jake outweighs you by about ten stone. When he goes after someone, the odds are even."

  "Weight's what does it, then?"

  Dillon dropped her arm and sprawled against the counter. He clenched his hands on the counter edge to keep from holding her to his side. In the moment right before her skirmish with Serge, he had recognized an unusual need to protect her. He was a man who would always come to a woman's rescue, but this time he'd felt as if something global was at stake. He told himself it was just that he owed it to Jake.

  "You've got courage," he said. "It took courage to come here, courage to hear about your father, courage to accuse me of trying to murder him."

  "And?"

  "I reckon it'll take courage to realize you'll be better off leaving Coober Pedy. Serge gave you a taste of what it'll be like if you stay. Most of the women in town are under a man's protection. The ones that aren't are like flypaper to the Serges here."

  “Under a man’s protection? Did I stumble into a time warp?”

  “You see what can happen.”

  "Serge won't bother me again."

  Dillon shook his head. "You're wrong. You've hurt his pride. He'll try to prove something now, and his friends will, too."

  Melly set a beer in front of Kelsey and another for Dillon. "A neat trick," she said, wiping the counter. "You must have had a few lessons in self-defense."

  "A few." Kelsey lifted the glass to her lips.

  "A few lessons won't do you any good if he comes after you sober." Dillon played with his glass, making designs on the frosted side with his index finger.

  "You don't think so?"

  "He's a cheeky kid. I know him. His mine's next to the Rainbow Fire."

  "Good, at least I've met a neighbor."

  "Don't stay, Kelsey." Dillon stopped beating around the bush. "You won't be safe in Coober Pedy."

  Kelsey watched Melly move away. She waited until she was out of earshot. "I can handle what comes my way, Dillon." As soon as she had said his name, she wondered why. It established an intimacy she wanted no part of.

  "Can you handle mining? Climbing fifty feet or more into a bloody dark hole every day, swinging a pick, operating dangerous equipment, setting charges?"

  "I can."

  Dillon fought the urge, but even as he fought, he was lifting her wrist in his hand. "You were made to wear opals, not to mine them. I'll have no part of you down there."

  Some emotion he couldn’t name
simmered in her eyes. "No?"

  He didn't tell her the real reason he was afraid for her. Sergeant Newberry wasn't the only person in Coober Pedy who believed someone had tried to kill Jake. Dillon believed the same. Kelsey's life could be in danger from more than amorous miners and tunneling machines. She could be in danger from Jake's attacker. And until Dillon was sure just who that was, he wanted Kelsey safely away.

  "I didn't hurt your father." Dillon dropped her wrist, then reached behind him and picked up his glass. "I owe Jake my life. I'll take care of the Rainbow Fire. You take care of yourself and get out of here."

  "I'm staying." She hadn't been sure until the words were said. This was where she belonged, at least until she was allowed to see Jake. She owed Jake that much for the memory of an Irish lullaby. "And just so you won't worry. . ."

  Kelsey knew she was tired and light-headed from the beer. Even as she approached the nearest table to pull a broken ladder-back chair from under it, she told herself she was showing off, breaking one of the most important rules she had been taught. She ignored the voice inside her head that was trying to reason with her.

  She lifted the chair and carried it back to the bar, setting it between two stools so that it lay over them like a helpless sacrifice. She took two deep breaths, flexing her hand once as she got into position. Then, all internal voices silenced, she brought the side of her hand down across one of the rungs on the chair's back and watched it split cleanly in two. Another breath held, another rung, until the chair back lay in pieces.

  She noticed the quiet in the room when she was finished. It was the same quiet that had followed her skirmish with Serge. Then there was a hearty round of applause. Kelsey ignored it. "I can do it with my feet, too. I'm hoping you'll just take my word for that, though. The chair's had it."

  Dillon saw Kelsey's flush of triumph, but he also saw the embarrassment. She was pleased at what she could do, and embarrassed at her pleasure. "Black belt?" he asked, raising one brow.

  "Second degree."

  He reached for her hand and ran his fingers over the calluses that had so recently shattered wood. In all other ways, the hand was deceptively fragile—for a murder weapon. "Well, you told me you fought your own battles, didn't you?"

  "I did."

  "Serge was luckier than he knew."

  Kelsey pulled her hand from his. Dillon's hand healed the stinging flesh and soothed her embarrassment at the same time it kindled a certain restlessness inside her. "I shouldn't have hit him at all. I should have thought of a way to get away from him."

  "You should have let me hit him." Dillon listened as the room began to buzz with normal speech. "You know what you've done, don't you?"

  "I hope I've shown everyone here that I won't be messed with."

  "Not my intention."

  "I'd shout the chair if I could, but the boss says that'll be three dollars fifty," Melly said, coming back to peer over the counter at the broken chair. "He says he's giving it to you cheap."

  "Tell him it was worth it." Kelsey rummaged in her pocket, coming up with the correct amount for both the chair and the dinner. "I'll be seeing you around, Melly. I'm going to stay a while."

  Melly's smile was warm honey. "Where are you staying?"

  "The motel."

  "Gary owns it. I'll stop by sometime."

  "Do that." Kelsey nodded to Melly, but it was Dillon she addressed her next words to. "I'll be at the mine tomorrow. It would be easier if you told me how to get there."

  He was tempted to let her walk. Dillon knew how poorly Kelsey had tolerated the afternoon's heat. On the other hand, if someone had tried to murder Jake, they would have a good go at Kelsey if they offered her a ride and took her somewhere even the roos avoided. A black belt wouldn't be worth a drop of water if someone dropped her off in the back of beyond.

  He was trapped by a woman who made Jake look cooperative in comparison.

  "You're grinning," Kelsey observed.

  Dillon sobered immediately. There was nothing to grin about. The situation was as volatile as a crate of gelignite in the Coober Pedy sun. Despite himself, however, he couldn't help but admire her stubborn courage. Jake might never recognize it, but Kelsey was a daughter to be proud of.

  "If you're determined to come, I'll take you myself."

  Kelsey considered his offer. "How do I know you won't leave me somewhere in the middle of the desert?"

  He gave her credit for a healthy survival instinct. "You'll have to trust me, won't you?"

  "Like my father did?"

  "That would be too much to ask." Dillon casually touched her arm. "But you can start by trusting me enough to take you to the mine in the morning."

  She realized she had little choice. "What time?"

  "Eight. It's cooler then, though once we're down, it doesn't matter."

  "I'll be waiting."

  "I don't doubt it." Dillon watched her walk away. "Kelsey?"

  Kelsey turned. "What?"

  "Lock your door tonight."

  She smiled at the advice and considered its sources. "Oh, I should be safe. Whoever tried to kill my father took him by surprise. I don't like surprises." She turned back to the door, carefully skirting the pool tables. In a moment she was gone.

  "And some people think living here is dull," Melly said from behind Dillon.

  At that moment Dillon would gladly have settled for dull. "Time to call it a night."

  "I could check on her on the way home."

  "Just don't take her by surprise, she might sever your head from your body." Dillon put his money on the counter to the sound of Melly's laughter and followed Kelsey's path.

  From his station by the pub door, he watched her walk down the street and turn into the motel lot before he got in his ute and started home.

  Chapter 4

  AT 7:15 THE next morning Kelsey's sleep-fogged brain was between her knees, her curls sweeping the floor as she did stretching exercises to try to wake up. A knock on the door brought her upright. "Who's there?" she called.

  "Melly."

  She never would have expected Melanie Morel to be an early riser. "I'm coming." Kelsey padded sleepily across the floor and unlocked the door. Melanie stood on the other side dressed in more—and brighter—flowers than a botanical garden.

  "I brought you a present." Melanie held out a steaming coffee cup and a plate covered with a napkin.

  "Come on in." Kelsey took the dishes and ushered the other woman into the room.

  "Is it safe?" Melanie eyed Kelsey's white gi, the traditional karate uniform. "Or will I be target practice?"

  "I was just doing warm-ups. There's not enough room in here for anything lethal."

  "You were pretty lethal last night."

  Kelsey had awakened early that morning with a stinging sense of guilt. She had studied karate since she was eighteen, not as a passing fancy, but as a lifestyle. It had taught her more than self-defense skills, and one of the most important lessons she had learned was to be humble about her accomplishments. "I was pretty upset last night," she said, putting the dishes on the dresser and motioning toward the bed. "Have a seat."

  "Go ahead and eat," Melanie told her, sprawling against the pillows. "While it's still hot."

  Kelsey took the napkin off the plate and inhaled, her mouth watering. "Biscuits." Her eyes widened. "And grits and ham? Do they eat grits in Australia?"

  "Not hardly. Believe it or not, we always ate them at home in Nebraska. My mother's from Georgia, so she keeps me supplied."

  Kelsey sat in a vinyl wing chair and set the plate on her lap. "It was so nice of you to think of me."

  "I wanted you to feel at home."

  Kelsey looked up and smiled. Melanie was a psychedelic portrait against the sheets. Her off-the-shoulder peasant blouse was covered with blue and orange cabbage roses. Her skirt was a pattern of black and white stripes with giant sprigs of violets sprinkled over it. She wore purple rubber thongs on her delicate feet and opals on every finger. "Thank you."r />
  "So how do you like town?"

  Kelsey munched on a biscuit and contemplated the question. "Well, it's different," she said finally.

  "Different as in awful." Melanie put her arms behind her head and leaned farther back. "Actually, it's not. There's a lot of spirit in Coober Pedy."

  "How'd you end up here?" Kelsey started on the grits. She didn't have the heart to tell Melanie that she was one of the few people in North Carolina who thought they tasted like glue.

  "I took a year off after college to travel. I met Gary in Perth just before I was supposed to go back home to take a job in my father's insurance company." She laughed good-naturedly. "Can you imagine me selling insurance? Anyway, Gary brought me back to Coober Pedy with him, and I've been here ever since."

  Kelsey guessed that "ever since" had been a year or two. Melanie was about her own age. Gamely she swallowed the last of the grits. " If you've stayed you must like it."

  Melanie rolled her eyes. "I like Gary. And when we get tired of the heat and the flies, we pack up and go down to Adelaide or over to Sydney for a holiday. But I'm always glad to come back."

  Kelsey didn't ask why. If it weren't for people who enjoyed living on the frontier, the United States would sit squarely on Plymouth Rock, and Australia would be a few settlements rimming Botany Bay. "If you've been here that long," she said instead, "you must know my father fairly well."

  "He's been a regular customer."

  Kelsey didn't want to reveal much of her past, but neither did she want to lose this opportunity to find out a little more about Jake and Dillon. "I haven't seen him for some time," she said in a classic understatement. "He's always been a wanderer."

  "He hasn't wandered much since he came to Coober Pedy. Some men come, stay a month or two, then leave, and we never see them again. I guess they get sick of going underground and chipping away at nothing. Not your father, though. You can say what you want about old Jake, but he sticks to it."

  Kelsey guessed that was supposed to be a point in Jake's favor, although she wasn't sure why. Sticking to a marriage, sticking to a family, those were virtues. But chipping away at nothing? She set down the empty plate and picked up the coffee mug. The coffee was strong, the first good cup she'd had since crossing the International Date Line. "What else could you say about old Jake?" She smiled to show that she hadn't taken offense at the name.