Amethyst stumbled and he pulled her against his side. “That’s…that’s not how you court.”
“See how much better my method is?”
They turned the corner onto another street of houses. The one after glittered with the lots of shops and restaurants.
“We can be Amethyst and Clark Grisham.” Amethyst’s voice cracked. “We’ll be from New Addison City. I do hope there are photographers. We can make a show of ourselves.”
He stared at the houses with the manicured lawns and glowing windows. Families lived in them. Happy, safe families. “Shouldn’t we stay silent? Our faces are on wanted posters.”
“Hmm. No one here should be looking at wanted posters. I’d never seen one before I came out west.”
“We won’t have our pictures taken,” Clark said.
“Have you ever had a photograph of yourself? They’re grand! You can wear anything you want, and you can pose—”
“No photos,” Clark interrupted. “None. It’ll be safer.” He could surprise her with a quiet photography studio. They could have one of just themselves to hang in their parlor.
She pursed her lips. If he’d hurt her feelings, so be it. They had to stay secure.
The restaurant she’d chosen earlier sparkled with gas lamps at the entranceway. A waiter opened the door for them and bowed.
Inside the door, another waiter stood at a podium. “Name?”
“Reservations for Clark Grisham. Two,” Amethyst said. She’d insisted they make reservations. “It’s what you do at the grandest places,” she’d explained.
“This way.” The waiter held up two menus and led them through the linen-covered tables. Groups of men, couples, and families chatted over steaming plates and goblets of wine.
Clark pulled out Amethyst’s chair, as she’d shown him back at the mansion, before taking his seat. The waiter handed them each a menu. “Would the lady care for a drink?” He looked at Clark as he spoke.
“My husband and I would love red wine.” Amethyst flicked her wrist. “We would also love an appetizer of bread triangles with cucumber yogurt sauce. Thank you.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers until Clark grasped it. “You’re going to love living in the city, Clark. I’m going to show you a magnificent time. I promise I won’t get too tipsy.”
ou’re tipsy.” Clark’s voice exploded in her ear, too close. How had he gotten so close?
Amethyst turned. It had to be a good turn, so why did some of the champagne slosh from her glass onto her hand. “Darn it, now I’m going to be sticky. Will you lick it off, love? Please?” She pushed her wrist toward his face, and her stomach flip-flopped when he cupped her elbow and slid his tongue over her skin.
“Better?” Lights danced over his grin.
“I can’t be tipsy yet.” She giggled.
Music pounded against the walls, reverberating off the ceiling. The city’s only nightclub couldn’t compare on the same scale as the clubs in New Addison City, but at least it had loud music and alcohol. The music involved more guitars and fiddles, but it still kept her feet tapping and her head bobbing. The club also had only one room, rather than multiple levels each with a different theme. The one room contained barn-red walls and gas lamps.
“I miss the crystal chandeliers,” she shouted over the music. “They sparkle. It’s dizzying.”
“I think you’re dizzy enough.”
She set her empty glass on the shelf that ran along the border of the room and grabbed his hands. Bodies crushed against them, a sea of frilly skirts and cowboy hats. She would have to get one of those skirts that hung long in the back and ended at her knees in the front, complete with black fishnet stockings and a feather-accented corset. Most of the females in the room sported that combination, with a variety of heels and bare feet.
“Trust me.” She pressed against his front, lifting their hands overhead, and bumped her hips against his. “Haven’t you ever danced?”
“We do lots of dancing on the plains. The Bromis love to get wild.” His fingers massaged her knuckles as they swayed in time with the beat.
She pictured the Bromi slaves with their tan skin and eagle feathers woven into their long black hair. “You’re joshing. They don’t dance, do they? I’ve never seen one even smile.”
He slid his hands down her arms to cup her shoulders. “Why would they do that around their captors? The Bromi love freedom. They want to move their camps to follow the buffalo and the rains. They don’t want to be forced into servitude in houses when they’re used to open skies and deerskin teepees.”
She bounced her bosom against his chest before spinning on her heels to grind her buttocks into his groin. “Do you miss living with them?” She’d never seen a Bromi in New Addison City, but she’d heard of them—wild creatures who were thankful to be taken in by society so they could become civilized. “Will you take me to meet them?”
“You won’t remember this in the morning. You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk yet!” She turned to loop her leg around his knee and tip her head back. “I really would like to meet them. How exciting. I can write to my friends. They’ve never seen a Bromi, I’m sure.”
“They aren’t meant to be stared at.” Clark stroked the back of her neck, exposed by her pinned bun.
“Please? After we finish retrieving the inventions? You must still be one of them if you lived with them for a while.”
In the shadows, she couldn’t make out his expression. “If you want.”
How depressing the evening had become. Clubs were meant for fun, not morbid thoughts of slaves and desert tribes. “Come with me.” She tugged him toward the bar near the entrance. “I need another vodka with orange juice.”
Clark leaned against the open gate to his mansion, one leg propped up and his arms folded. Amethyst stood near the door with the prospective gardener she’d found at the hiring agency.
“We want beauty.” Her voice lifted from across the yard. “I’m thinking flowers and fountains. It’s much too dry here, too hot. We need fountains and water.”
“You want bushes.” The gardener slapped one hand against the other. “Bushes to line the fence and house, bushes to line the walkway. They don’t need a lot of water. They’ll thrive. You want bushes.”
“I hate bushes. I want fountains and flowers.”
Clark chuckled. She’d been excited to find a gardener available for work right away. Of course she would irritate him.
“Who do you think will win?” Eric asked from beside him.
“Amethyst. She won’t hire someone she can’t control.”
“Can she control you?”
Clark peered at his father from the corners of his eyes. “No.” He might buy her things and protect her, but she couldn’t tell him what to do.
“That’s why she likes you. You’re dangerous and you don’t care that she’s Amethyst Treasure. How serious are you about her?”
Clark’s muscles tensed. “I won’t get her pregnant.” Not like what you did with my mother.
“I didn’t expect you would. She thinks this is a game. Is it?”
Clark watched her stomp to one of the benches overgrown with vines and kick it. “You think a bush is going to make this look pretty?”
He couldn’t do anything more than play with her. He had no future. He might have a house and money, and a little income according to Donald, but he would always be wanted by the army. “At least we both know it’s a game.” He coughed. “Do you care what happens to the yard?”
“It’s been ill-used too long. I can’t use it anymore. Do what you want with it.”
Footsteps approached from the sidewalk. Clark stepped through the gate to greet the mailman. “Morning.”
The elderly man in his green uniform tipped his hat. “Morning, sir. You taking over the place, if you don’t mind my asking? Always felt bad to see it so crummy.”
“For now.” That seemed a safe answer.
The mailman handed Clark a folded paper
from the canvas sack slung over his shoulder, tipped his hat again, and continued down the sidewalk. The front of the telegraph paper read Grisham. Only Donald knew about the mansion, as far as he knew. Clark ducked back into the yard and broke the wax seal, unfolding the paper.
I write to you at your father’s home in hopes you’ll stop there on your travels. Garth Treasure has expressed interest in having you and your partner home. Donald
Clark tucked the telegraph into his pocket. “We shouldn’t have stayed so long.” Three days. How could he have let himself slip? “We should have kept looking for the inventions.”
“Garth is a good man,” Eric murmured. “Make him happy. We’ll plan the next trip. There’s a tonic I made with tiny particles that give you energy when you drink it. They flush from your body, but that rush is used to empower soldiers. They don’t feel as much pain and can rush at the Bromi faster, harder.”
Clark wiped his hand across his mouth. “How many random things have you invented?”
The ghost hovered back a step. “Enough. Inventions were my life.”
“This tonic isn’t with the army, is it? You know how they feel about me.”
“It’s at an outpost with one general and a secretary. With careful planning, we’ll succeed.”
Clark groaned. “At least this gives me something to do.” Even though he’d always worked—around the saloon and the mine, and then to survive alone—it had felt soothing to putter with Amethyst, wake up with her head on his shoulder and his arm across her belly. They’d sat on the leaf-strewn back porch, observing the untamed back yard, while eating bakery sweet buns they’d purchased the day before.
“You love this land like I do,” Eric said. “We’ll make it better.”
Amethyst sat beside Zachariah in the steamcoach heading back to the ranch. Clark, across from them, tipped his hat over his face and turned his chin down, hiding his eyes as though he dozed. Zachariah watched out the window.
She picked at her fingernails. “Why did we have to come back? It was so relaxing. I know why Father loves this countryside so much.” That should make him friendlier.
“I love it too,” Zachariah said.
She pursed her lips. “Why are you acting like this? You’re usually talking about the army. Constantly.”
“They had a Bromi raid,” Zachariah snapped, “without me.”
Clark stiffened—not asleep after all.
“Is that all you want to do? Attack Bromis and wear your uniform?” She yawned. “How exciting can that be?” The steamcoach turned into the driveway circle at the ranch. “Goody, we’re home. I’m so thrilled Father made us come back early.” She rolled her eyes.
“There’s a guest from New Addison City.”
Amethyst’s heart skipped a beat and she leaned forward. “Really? Who is it? I didn’t think any of my friends would come.” She kicked Clark’s leg. “I can’t wait to introduce you to my friends. They’ll love you. A secret brother. How scandalous and delicious.”
Clark scowled at Zachariah. Right, the Bromi comment.
It might be Mary. Her father owned a ranch somewhere in Hedlund, too, even though he lived in New Addison City.
The steamcoach halted and the driver opened the door. Zachariah and Clark hopped out; Clark paused to reach back for her before the driver could escort her. She clasped his fingers and lifted her skirt.
When she’d first arrived, her father’s ranch had seemed cold despite the heat outdoors. The Grisham mansion, despite the horrendous condition of the yard, had been more welcoming. It didn’t involve family that bossed her around. She could drink and control what happened to each aspect.
“You’ll love Mary.” Amethyst wished Zachariah wasn’t looking so she could kiss Clark’s cheek. “She has a wonderful laugh. It will make you laugh, too.”
“Amethyst, Clark, welcome back.” Her mother stood on the porch beside the swing, where a shadowed man sat. “I trust you had a pleasant journey. I’m sorry to cut it short, but I knew you’d want to return for your friend.”
Amethyst frowned as Clark’s fingers slipped away from hers. Did her mother know how Mary had kissed her that once at the club?
The man on the swing rose and stepped toward her, bowing when he reached the stairs. Amethyst’s heart clenched and her belly churned. Oh no. He wasn’t supposed to be at the ranch. He shouldn’t even be in Hedlund.
Her mother smiled at him. “Amethyst, you didn’t tell us you’d invited your beau. We’ve had an excellent spell meeting Joseph.”
methyst clasped her hands to her neck as her mind spun. “Joseph. You’re here.” Joseph, her flirt in the city. Joseph, who she’d imagined marrying. Joseph, who she probably had asked to visit her on the ranch.
Joseph swept off his top hat in a bow, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss. Hadn’t they felt warm before? Now they felt oily, as if he’d rubbed too much bees wax on them to keep them soft. Oily, slimy, not warm and firm like Clark’s.
“Of course I would come to visit my Amethyst.” He stood and straightened his jacket, as if it could never have a wrinkle.
“You should have told us about Joseph.” Her mother swept down the stairs, her skirt brushing the dust. “He could have joined you for the entire visit. He can, of course, stay as long as he desires.”
“I’m sure I wrote to you.” Amethyst clenched her hands behind her back. The letters she wrote home included pages of the people she associated with and the men who fawned over her, tossing around the big names to show how much people loved her. Joseph would’ve been listed a few times. Her parents must not have paid attention.
“Alas,” Joseph said, “I cannot stay for more than a month. My family has a summer camp on the ocean. I would love to take Amethyst with me, though.”
Her mother inclined her head. “That would be fine. Amethyst has paid her dues to us.” Her mother laughed. “I know the ranch isn’t your favorite place, dear.”
Maybe not the ranch, but leaving for Joseph’s summer camp would take her away from Clark. She almost grabbed his arm before catching herself. “You wanted me to spend the entire summer here. I don’t mind. I should be with family more.”
Her mother frowned. “Amethyst, by truth, you can go.”
“The sailing will be wonderful,” Joseph said. “They’ve forecast charming weather for the east coast. The summer will be memorable.”
“But….” Amethyst gulped. The inventions, Eric, the mansion, Clark, they couldn’t wait. “I’m actually enjoying it here.” There, she’d said it. Let her parents preen so long as she remained at Clark’s side.
“Your mother told me about your new brother.” Joseph stared over her head at Clark. “What an interesting story. I’m sure you weren’t expecting to add a new sibling.” He stepped around her and held out his hand. “Joseph Velardi. Pleased to meet you.” That snippy edge in his voice, the twinge of sarcasm. He thought Clark was beneath him. Joseph placated Clark. Amethyst bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Clark could punch her “beau” onto the ground within seconds.
“It is a pleasure beyond belief to meet Amethyst’s esteemed beau.” Clark matched snippiness and sarcasm with a wide grin. “Having a sister is more than I could’ve hoped for when I finally found my father.”
“Is this lifestyle different than what you’re used to?” Joseph lifted his eyebrows. Her parents must not have told him anything about Clark, other than his presence.
“Much different.” Clark gazed at the ranch as though seeing it for the first time. Amethyst held her breath. How much would he tell Joseph?
“I was raised by a Bromi tribe. It’s been hard adapting to wearing clothes and not murdering every white man I see.”
Amethyst rocked back on her heels, laughing. Her mother giggled, and Zachariah remained glowering at the driveway.
“You…lived with Bromis?” Joseph paled. “Aren’t they savages?”
“You haven’t the faintest idea until you see them chase down a buffalo and tear it apart wi
th their teeth. It’s also been hard getting used to eating cooked food.” Clark winked at her.
“They do that?” Joseph took a step back. “Is it safe to live so close to them?”
Clark nodded, his lids lowered. “I protect the family now.”
“Clark is our wonder.” Her mother stroked his arm before cupping his elbow. “Why don’t we retire into the house? I’m sure you both want to refresh. Amethyst, you can show Joseph the town if you like. One of us can chaperone.”
“Chaperones won’t be necessary, ma’am.” Joseph took Amethyst’s hand again. “That’s an old fashioned rule.”
“We still believe in those old fashioned rules.” Her mother should scold Joseph and send him away. He ruined things. Amethyst tried to analyze Clark’s expression, but he smiled at her mother with genuine admiration.
“Clark can chaperone!” Amethyst reached for him, but he stepped toward the front porch.
“Don’t you suppose Zachariah would rather have something to do this afternoon?” Clark clapped her brother on his shoulder. “Get your mind off your troubles.”
Bloody gears, he was mad. Scowling, Amethyst stomped toward the house. Her mother led Zachariah and Joseph toward the kitchen—after he kissed her hand again with his disgusting lips—to allow Amethyst and Clark time to change.
She grabbed his bedroom door as he attempted to shut it. “Joseph isn’t my beau.”
“Be careful, sweetheart, or someone special will overhear.” Blast his hooded gaze.
“No one’s in the hallway.” She slipped under his arm and pushed the door shut, sealing them inside. “I’ll slip out through the balcony. Clark, look at me.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the door. “I guess I should’ve asked if you have an intended.”
“My beau, not my intended.” She winced. “He’s not even a beau. I see lots of men.” That darkened gaze again. What a bad answer. “Not like that, I promise. Bloody gears, that’s what New Addison is like. You flirt and you move on to someone else. They’re flings.”
Treasure, Darkly (Treasure Chronicles Book 1) Page 20