by Nora Roberts
“I figured it was important enough not to.” He took a last drag before crushing the cigarette out. “I’ve never known a woman who could keep her mouth shut.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m perfectly capable of keeping my mouth shut, as you so eloquently put it. But why should I?” There was no way to tell her but straight out. “Matt found the gold, and then he was dead.”
“There was an accident…” she began. Suddenly cold, she hugged her elbows. He didn’t have to speak for her to see what was in his mind. “You’re trying to tell me that my father was murdered. That can’t be.” She started to scramble up, but he took her arms and held her still.
“Ten years he worked the mine and scratched a few handfuls of gold from it. Then he hits, hits big. The minute he does, there’s a cave-in, and he’s dead.” “I don’t want to think about it.”
“You’re going to think about it.” He gave her a quick shake. “The mine’s yours now, and the gold in it. I’m not going to let what happened to Matt happen to you.” His hands gentled and slid up to frame her face. “Not to you.”
She closed her eyes. She couldn’t take it in, not all at once. Fear, hysteria and fresh grief tangled within her. She lifted her hands to his wrists and held on until she felt herself calming. He was right. She had to think about it. Then she would act. When she opened her eyes, they were clear and steady.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Trust me.” He touched his lips to hers, then laid her back gently on the blanket. She’d given him peace early in the night. Now, as the night deepened, he would try to do the same for her.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m feeling lots better, Miss Conway.” Alice took the tin cup and sipped gingerly.
She didn’t want to complain about her back, or about the pain that still galloped along it despite the cooling salve. The morning light showed her facial bruises in heart-wrenching detail and caused the girl to look even younger and smaller and more vulnerable. Though the scratches on her cheeks were no longer red and angry, Sarah judged it would be several days before they faded.
“You look better.” It wasn’t strictly true, and Sarah vowed to keep her patient away from a mirror a bit longer. Though the swelling had eased considerably, she was still worried about Alice’s eye and had already decided to drive into town later and talk with the doctor. “Try a little of this soft-boiled egg. You need your strength.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Privately Alice thought the glossy wet yolk looked more like a slimy eye than food. But if Sarah had told her to eat a fried scorpion she’d have opened her mouth and swallowed. “Miss Conway?”
“Yes, Alice?” Sarah spooned up more egg.
“I’m beholden to you for taking me in like you did, and I can’t-Miss Conway, you gave me your own bed last night. It ain’t fitting.”
Smiling a little, Sarah set the plate aside. “Alice, I assure you, I was quite comfortable last night.”
“But, Miss Conway-”
“Alice, if you keep this up I’m going to think you’re ungrateful.”
“Oh!” Something close to horror flashed in Alice’s eyes. “No, ma’am.”
“Well, then.” Because the response was exactly what she’d expected, Sarah rose. She remembered that the nuns had nursed with compassion tempered with brisk practicality. “You can show your gratitude by being a good patient and getting some more rest. If you’re feeling up to it later, I’ll have Lucius bring you down and we can sit and talk a while.”
“I’d like that. Miss Conway, if it hadn’t been for you and Eli, I think I’d’ve died. I was hoping… Well, I got some money saved. It ain’t much, but I’d like you to have it for all your trouble.”
“I don’t want your money, Alice.”
The girl flushed and looked away. “I know you’re probably thinking about where it comes from, but-” “No.” She took Alice’s hand firmly in hers. “That has nothing to do with it.” Pride, Sarah thought. She had plenty of her own. Alice was entitled to hers. “Alice, did Eli want money for driving you out of town?” “No, but…he’s a friend.”
“I’d like to be your friend, if you’d let me. You rest now, and we’ll talk about all this later.” She gave Alice’s hand a reassuring squeeze before she picked up the empty dishes and started down the ladder. She barely muffled a squeal when hands closed around her waist.
“Told you you didn’t need that corset.”
Sarah sent Jake what she hoped was an indignant look over her shoulder. “Is that why I couldn’t find it when I dressed this morning?”
“Just doing you a favor.” Before she could decide whether to laugh or lecture, he was whirling her around and kissing her.
“Jake, Alice is-”
“Not likely to faint if she figures out what I’m doing.” But he set her aside, because he liked the way the sunlight streamed through the curtains and onto her hair. “You’re mighty nice to look at, Duchess.” It was foolish to blush, but her color rose. “Why don’t you sit down, and you can look at me some more while I fix you breakfast?”
“I’d like to, but I’ve got some things to see to.” He touched her again, just a fingertip to the single wispy curl that had escaped from the neat bun on top of her head. “Sarah, will you let me have Matt’s journal?” Both the grief and the dread showed clearly in her eyes before she lowered them. During the night, after love and before sleep, she had thought of little else but what Jake had told her. Part of her wondered if she would be better off not knowing, not being sure.
But another part, the same part that had kept her from turning back and going east again, had already accepted what needed to be done.
“Yes.” She walked to the hearth to work the rock loose. “I found this the first night. His journal, what must have been his savings, and the deed to Sarah’s Pride.”
When she held the book out to him, Jake resisted the urge to open it there and then. If he found what he thought he would find, he would have business to take care of before he said anything else to her. “I’ll take it along with me, if it’s all the same to you.” She opened her mouth to object, wanting the matter settled once and for all. But he’d asked for her trust. Perhaps this was the way to show him he had it. “All right.”
“And the deed? Will you let me hold on to it until we have some answers?”
In answer, she offered it to him, without hesitation, without question. For a moment they held the deed, and the dream, between them. “Just like that?” he murmured.
“Yes.” She smiled and released her hold. “Just like that.”
That her trust was so easily given, so total in her eyes, left him groping for words. “Sarah, I want…” What? he wondered as he stared down at her. To guard and protect, to love and possess? She was like something cool and sweet that had poured into him and washed away years of bitter thirst. But he didn’t have the words, he thought. And he didn’t have the right. “I’ll take care of this.”
She lifted a brow. There had been something else, something in his eyes. She wanted it back, so that she could see it, understand it. “I thought we were going to take care of it.”
“No.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “You’re going to leave this to me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Her brow was still lifted as her lips curved.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t. I want you to-” Whatever he might have said was postponed. He moved to the window quickly. “You’ve got company coming.” As he spotted the buggy, his shoulders relaxed. “Looks like Mrs. Cody and her girl.”
“Oh.” Sarah’s hands shot up automatically to straighten her hair. “I must look-Oh, how would I know? I haven’t had a chance to so much as glance in the mirror.”
“Wouldn’t matter much.” Without glancing back, he pulled open the door. “Too bad you’re so homely.” Muttering, she pulled off her apron and followed him outside. Then memory came floo
ding back and had her biting her Up. “I imagine they would have heard all about the, ah, incident yesterday.”
“I expect.” Jake secured the deed and the journal in the saddlebags that he’d tossed over the rail. “You needn’t look so amused.” She fiddled nervously with the cameo at her throat, then put on her brightest smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Cody. Liza.” “Good morning, Sarah.” Anne Cody brought the horses to a stop. “I hope you don’t mind an early call.”
“Not at all.” But her fingers were busy pleating her skirt. She was afraid there was a lecture coming. The good sisters had given Sarah more than what she considered her share over the past twelve years. “I’m always delighted to see you,” she added. “Both of you.”
Anne glanced over at the dog, who’d run out to bark at the horses. “My, he’s grown some, hasn’t he?” She held out a hand. “Mr. Redman?”
Jake stepped over to help her, then Liza, down, remaining silent until he’d slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. “I’d best be on my way.” He touched a hand to his hat. “Ladies.”
“Mr. Redman.” Anne held up a hand in the gesture she used to stop her children from rushing out before their chores were finished. “Might I have a word with you?”
He shifted his bags until their weight fell evenly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My son John has been dogging your heels these last weeks. I’m surprised you put up with it.”
Jake didn’t imagine it pleased her, either, to have the boy spending time with him. “He hasn’t made a pest of himself.”
Curious, Anne studied his face.’ ‘That’s a kind thing to say, Mr. Redman, when I’m sure he’s done just that.”
“Johnny was born a pest,” Liza put in, earning a slow, measured look from her mother.
“It appears my children have that in common.”
With Liza effectively silenced, Anne turned back to Jake. “He’s been going through what most boys his age go through, I expect. Fascinated with guns, gun fights. Gunfighters. I don’t mind saying it’s given me some worry.”
“I’ll keep my distance,” Jake said, and turned to leave.
“Mr. Redman.” Anne hadn’t raised two willful children without knowing how to add the right tone of authority to her voice. “I’ll have my say.”
“Ma.” Both Liza’s cheeks and voice paled when she saw the look in Jake’s eyes. Cold, she thought, and moistened her lips. She’d never seen eyes so cold. “Maybe we should let Mr. Redman be on his way.” “Your mother’s got something to say,” Jake said quietly. “I reckon she ought to say it.”
“Thank you.” Pleased, Anne drew off her riding gloves. “Johnny was real excited about what happened here between you and Burt Donley.”
“Mrs. Cody,” Sarah began, only to be silenced by a look from both her and Jake.
“As I was saying,” Anne continued, “Johnny hardly talked about anything else for days. He figured having a shoot-out made a man a man and gave him something to strut about. Even started pestering his pa for a Peacemaker.” She glanced down at the guns on Jake’s hips. “Wooden grip, he said. Nothing fancy, like some of the glory boys wear. Just a good solid Colt. Mr. Cody and I had just about run clean out of patience with the boy. Then, just yesterday, he came home and told me something.” She paused, measuring her words. “He said that killing somebody in a gunfight or any other way doesn’t make a man grownup or important. He said that a smart man doesn’t look for trouble. He walks away from it when he can, and faces it when he can’t.”
For the first time, Anne smiled. “I guess I’d been telling him pretty near the same, but it didn’t get through coming from me or his pa. Made me wonder who got him thinking that way.” She offered her hand again. “I wanted to tell you I’m obliged.”
Jake stared at the hand before taking it. It was the kind of gesture, one of gratitude, even friendship, that had rarely been made to him. “He’s a smart boy, Mrs. Cody. He’d have come around to it.”
“Sooner or later.” Anne stepped toward the door of the house and then she turned back. “Maggie O’Rourke thinks a lot of you. I guess I found out why. I won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Redman.”
Not quite sure how to respond, he touched his hat before he started toward the paddock to saddle his horse.
“That’s quite a man, Sarah,” Anne commented. “If I were you, I’d want to go say a proper goodbye.” “Yes, I…” She looked at Anne, then back toward Jake, torn between manners and longings.
“You won’t mind if I fix tea, will you?” Anne asked as she disappeared inside.
“No, please, make yourself at home.” Sarah looked toward Jake again. “I’ll only be a minute.” Gathering her skirts, she ran. “Jake!” He turned, the saddle held in both hands, and enjoyed the flash of legs and petticoats. “Wait. I-” She stopped, a hand on her heart, when she realized she was not only out of breath but hadn’t any idea what she wanted to say to him. “Are you… When will you be back?”
The mustang shifted and nickered softly as Jake settled the saddle in place. “Haven’t left yet.”
She hated feeling foolish, and hated even more the idea that he could swing onto his horse and ride out of her life for days at a time. Perhaps patience would do the job.
“I was hoping you’d come back for supper.”
He tossed up a stirrup to tighten the cinch. “You asking me to supper?”
“Unless you’ve something else you’d rather be doing.” His hand snaked out, fast and smooth, to snag her arm before she could flounce away. “It’s not often I get invitations to supper from pretty ladies.” His grip firm, he glanced back toward the house. Things were changing, he decided, and changing fast, when he looked at the adobe cabin and thought of home. He still didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “If I’d known you’d need so long to think about it,” Sarah said between her teeth, “I wouldn’t have bothered. You can just-” But before she could tell him he swept her off her feet.
“You sure do get fired up easy.” He brought his mouth down hard on hers to taste the heat and the honey. “That’s one of the things I like about you.” “Put me down.” But her arms encircled his neck. “Mrs. Cody might see.” Then she laughed and kissed him again as he swung her down. “Well, will you come to supper or not?”
He vaulted into the saddle in one fluid, economical motion. His eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat when he looked down at her. “Yeah, I’ll come to supper.”
“It’ll be ready at seven,” she called after him as he spurred his horse into a gallop. She watched until dust and distance obscured him. Gathering her skirts again, she ran back to the house. The laughter that was bubbling in her throat dried up when she heard Alice’s weeping.
Liza stood by the stove, the kettle steaming in her hand. “Sarah, Ma’s…” But Sarah was already rushing up the ladder, ready to defend the girl.
Anne Cody held the weeping Alice in her arms, rocking her gently. One wide, capable hand was stroking the girl’s dark hair.
“There now, honey, you cry it all out,” she murmured.
“Then it’ll be behind you.” Wanting quiet, she sent Sarah a warning glance. Her own eyes were damp. Slowly Sarah descended the ladder.
“Alice called for you,” Liza explained, still holding the kettle. “Ma went up to see what she needed.” Liza set the sputtering kettle aside. Tea was the last thing on her mind. “Sarah, what’s going on?”
“I’m not sure I know.”
Liza cast another look toward the loft and said in a low voice. “Was she…that girl…really beaten?” “Yes.” The memory of it had Sarah touching a fingertip to the bruise under her own eye. “Horribly. Liza, I’ve never known one person was capable of hurting another so viciously.” She needed to be busy, Sarah decided. There was too much to think about.
Her father, the mine, Jake, Alice. After running a distracted hand over her hair, she began to slice honey cake.
“Did she really work for Carlotta?”
; “Yes. Liza, she’s just a girl, younger than you and I.”
“Really?” Torn between sympathy and fascination, Liza edged closer to Sarah. “But she… Well, I mean, at the Silver Star she must have…”
“She didn’t know anything else.” Sarah looked down at her hands. Honey cake and tea. There had been a time when she had thought life was as ordered and simple as that “Her father sold her. Sold her to a man for twenty dollars.”
“But that’s-” The curiosity in Liza’s eyes heated to fury. “Why, he’s the one who should be beat. Her own pa. Somebody ought to-” “Hush, Liza.” Anne slipped quietly down the ladder. “No one deserves to be beat.”
“Ma. Sarah says that girl’s pa sold her. Sold her off for money, like a horse.”
Anne paused in the act of brushing down her skirts.
“Is that true, Sarah?”
“Yes. She ran away and ended up at the Silver Star.”
Anne’s lips tightened as she fought back words that even her husband had never heard her utter. “I’d dearly love that tea now.”
“Oh, yes.” Sarah hurried back to the stove. “I’m sorry. Please sit down.” She set out the napkins she’d made out of blue checked gingham. “I hope you’ll enjoy this honey cake. It’s a recipe from the cook of a very dear friend of mine in Philadelphia.” As she offered the plate, Philadelphia and everyone in it seemed years away.
“Thank you, dear.” Anne waited for Sarah to sit down, then said, “Alice is sleeping now. I wasn’t sure you’d done the right thing by taking her in here. Truth is, I drove out this morning because I was concerned.” “I had to take her in.”
“No, you didn’t.” When Sarah bristled, Anne laid a hand on hers. “But you did what was right, and I’m proud of you. That girl needs help.” With a sigh, she sat back and looked at her own daughter. Pretty Liza, she thought, always so bright and curious. And safe, she reflected, adding a quick prayer of thanksgiving. Her children had always had a full plate and a solid roof over their heads-and a father who loved them. She made up her mind to thank her husband very soon.