by Nancy Bush
He found the barman pouring a frothy mug of ale from one of the Half Moon’s casks and swapping stories with one of the saloon’s wealthiest customers, even though the man was an easy mark at poker and nine-tenths of the town’s gambling population showed up every time the old fool decided to play a round.
“The cash is short,” Jace lied baldly.
Conrad spun around, ale sloshing over the rim of the mug and wetting his sleeve. “It can’t be!”
“Well, it is.”
“Mr. Garrett, I swear by all that’s holy, there’s been no thieving here!”
Jace knew Conrad well enough to sense when he was telling the truth. “Perhaps I miscounted,” he said easily.
“I’ve even saved the tips from the ladies upstairs and kept ‘em all separate,” Conrad went on hurriedly. He reached under the bar for a tin box, flipped open the lid, and held it out for Jace’s inspection.
Jace stared down at the box in Conrad’s hands, his chest tightening as if someone were squeezing the breath from his lungs. “Let me see that!” He grabbed the box from Conrad, ignoring the startled look on the man’s face. “By God,” he muttered, thunderstruck, closing the lid and staring down at the smooth metal filigree work. “Where did you get this?”
“It was left at one of the tables,” Conrad said, his brow puckering.
“Well, I don’t want you to use it anymore.” Jace was brusque. He surprised Conrad even further by dumping the money onto the counter until coins rolled in all directions. “Give the whores back their money. I’m keeping the box.”
¤ ¤ ¤
“Whose box is it?” Kelsey asked, staring at the filigreed lid of the tin box as she turned it over in her hands. The dull silver luster caught the chandelier’s light, bouncing across the highly polished floor of the Garrett entry hall.
“It’s yours,” Jace said, shaking his head in bafflement.
“Mine’s been missing since I was just a girl. How did it get to be at the Half Moon?”
“A customer brought it in and left it.” Jace glanced from Kelsey’s tin box to the one sitting on the whatnot shelf which was affixed to a corner wall. Lifting the box from the shelf, he compared it to Kelsey’s. They were almost exact duplicates. The second box was Jace’s. A gift from his father. Both had been specially made and given as Christmas presents when Jace and Kelsey were children.
“How odd,” Kelsey murmured, turning her box over.
With a rustle of satin, Emerald approached down the stairs. The hair on the back of Kelsey’s neck lifted. Emerald’s rustling skirts were like the warning of a rattler.
“What are you two conferring about?” she asked tightly.
Jace pointed to the tin box cradled in Kelsey’s palms and related how he’d come to find it. Emerald’s dark eyes swept over the box, then their avid light dimmed. Unless the box was jewel-encrusted, she really wasn’t interested, Kelsey decided wryly.
“Jace, I’m having trouble with Mrs. Weatherby,” she complained. “She’s getting all the fittings wrong. And her daughter’s an embarrassment to decent, moral people.”
“Like yourself?” Jace asked.
Kelsey shot him a swift glance, surprised by this touch of humor.
Emerald’s face turned an ugly, mottled red. “I want you to find me someone new. I won’t have that sluttish Isabella working on my clothes!” With that she whipped around and stalked in high dudgeon back up the stairs.
Kelsey turned her attention back to the box, lifting its lid. It had once been velvet-lined, but the plush fabric was long gone. There were little nicks and scrapes in the tin, as if something metallic had rubbed against its smooth surfaces. Coins? Jewelry? Where had the little box been all these years?
“What do you think it means?” she asked Jace.
“Someone stole it from us.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of anyone stealing from a Garrett. It’s bad for business. I think I’ll talk to that sloppy fool, Raynor, and get him after the thief that left it at the Half Moon.”
“Wait!” Kelsey said when Jace reached for the box. “Let me show it to the Danners. Joseph’s the only one alive who would remember that Father gave the boxes to us. If there were a robbery, or something, to explain why the box was stolen –”
“We would all know of it!” Jace snorted.
“Nevertheless, I’d like to ask,” Kelsey stubbornly insisted.
Jace swept his arms out in surrender, and Kelsey, aware that her brother might become churlish and unreasonable if she waited too long, rushed out of the house before he could change his mind.
She smiled as she headed to the stables to saddle Sadie Mae. It was nice to have something new to occupy her mind. Though she’d had doubts about marrying Harrison, it had still hurt to be so summarily put down. But it had certainly been something of a relief, too. She simply couldn’t see herself as anyone’s wife.
Yet what was she to do with the rest of her life now? She was twenty-three and would soon be a spinster without a husband to legitimize her worth. And Lord help her, she’d never had a calling like Lexie, or even that wildly beautiful Miracle Jones, to strive toward. All these years she’d been groomed to be someone’s perfect wife, but given her penchant for carrying a rifle and riding astraddle, it was clear the instruction had failed – a fact she was inordinately proud of.
Fleetingly she wondered what Jesse Danner would think of her if he could see her now. A renegade himself, he might applaud her choice not to fit into the expected mold.
Maggie trotted at her heels as she whistled for Sadie Mae. The dog barked loudly as Kelsey brought the smartly stepping mare into the paddock and saddled and bridled her. Lifting the bar on the gate, Kelsey led Sadie Mae and Maggie to the field beyond. She would ride over to the Danners and show Joseph the box. Even if Joseph had no recollection of it, the visit would prove that there were no hard feelings over her broken engagement.
¤ ¤ ¤
Harrison choked down the remains of his mashed potatoes and wondered if he would live until Cook returned from her brother’s family, where she was helping take care of the youngsters who’d been left motherless by the scourge of diphtheria. Lexie had graciously offered to help her father out until someone new could be hired, but Harrison now thought that had been a poor solution. He wasn’t certain what was inside the white goo on his plate, but it was lumpy and hard enough to break a tooth. Jamie and Seth slid sly glances his way as they spread their mashed potatoes around their plates with a spoon, disguising how much they’d eaten. Tremaine, whose blunt honesty had gotten him into more trouble than any man should have to handle, ate a few bites, grimaced, and declared, “This is inedible.”
Lexie glared at him. “Mind your tongue.” She helped herself to a bite, chewed with ever slowing movements as the rest of the family waiting in avid expectation, swallowed, then admitted, “These aren’t very good, are they?”
Jamie made gagging noises, and Tremaine placed a light warning hand at the back of his neck. He could criticize his wife’s cooking, but his children had to be polite.
Joseph, who’d made no attempt to eat at all, asked, “So, what happened with Curly’s cow? It’s been a few weeks.”
“She’s still alive. But the Wythecombs can’t keep a cow that won’t produce,” Harrison remarked.
“What about the cow you gave them?” Tremaine gently eased his plate to one side.
Lexie made a face and did the same. In a rush of scraped chairs and pounding feet, the two boys tore through the house, escaping from dinner as if they were sailors on leave.
“He’s paying me for her. A quarter a week.” Harrison worked on his slab of beef until the stringy pieces felt like they’d collected between all his teeth.
Lexie half- smiled as she looked at him. “I’ll hire a new cook by week’s end. I promise.”
“Hire one for us, too,” suggested Tremaine, who’d been suffering his wife’s cooking ever since their own housekeep
er-cook had fallen in love with one of the stable boys and summarily left.
“How are things at the infirmary?” Joseph asked Tremaine.
“Better now. The Cullens were lucky they only lost two children. The disease seems to be waning. It was a relief to see so many people at the dance instead of being forced to stay home and tend to their sick.”
The dance reminded Harrison of Miracle. He was free to see her now. The word of his broken engagement has spread like brushfire. The only problem was that he’d heard the whispered comments and snide remarks slurring Miracle, calling her Danner’s mistress. Had she heard them, too? If not, she inevitably would soon. She wouldn’t even be able to fully deny the charge, for he’d made her his mistress against her will.
Picking up his wine glass, he fought to push thoughts of Miracle aside. He wanted her yet couldn’t see how she would ever forgive him. He scowled, remembering her fury and horror when he’d asked her to marry him.
The doorbell pealed, and Lexie sang out from the kitchen, “I’ll get it!”
“Kelsey!” Lexie exclaimed moments later.
Harrison’s brows lifted, and he felt his father’s eyes on him. Answering Joseph’s inquiring look with a shrug of his shoulders, he went to find out what had prompted Kelsey to stop by.
She was standing in the entry hall, her petite form dressed in a buckskin skirt and plain blue blouse. Cradled in the palms of her hands was a tin box whose lid was elegantly tooled and filigreed.
“– I thought I’d ask your father about it, since it’s been missing for years.”
Harrison did a classic double-take.
“Jace brought this home from the Half Moon,” Kelsey went on, oblivious to Harrison’s studied interest. “One of the customers apparently left it there.”
“Which customer?” Harrison demanded.
Kelsey’s lips parted in bafflement at his tone. “I don’t know.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Lexie, frowning at Harrison.
“It’s Miracle’s,” Harrison said bluntly.
“Miracle’s?” Kelsey repeated. “No, it’s mine. My father gave it to me for a Christmas present. Jace thinks someone must have stolen it. How else could it turn up at the Half Moon after all these years?”
“What do you mean, it’s Miracle’s?” Joseph asked, coming up behind Harrison. “I recognize it. I remember when Joshua bought them for Kelsey and Jace.”
“Them?” Harrison’s brows drew together.
“There are two boxes,” Kelsey explained, then went on to tell them about Jace’s box as well.
Premonition slid down Harrison’s spine. The box was Miracle’s. She’d described it too clearly for him to make a mistake. “How long has the box been at the Half Moon?”
“Jace didn’t say,” Kelsey answered, regarding him as if he’d lost his mind.
“May I see it?” Harrison took the box from Kelsey, turning it over in his hands. If this wasn’t the tin box Miracle had described, he’d eat his sister’s cooking for a month. “Mind if I borrow it?”
Kelsey was nonplussed. “Go right ahead.”
“Thanks.”
“Where are you going?” Lexie demanded when Harrison went in search of his Stetson.
“I’m going to show this box to Miracle.”
“The box is Kelsey’s,” Lexie pointed out. “Even Pa recognizes it.”
“Then Miracle’s got some explaining to do,” Harrison answered, undeterred. “Because I know for a fact that this box was in her possession the night she was kidnapped. She told me the kidnappers took it from her. She kept her money inside it, and they stole that, too.”
“But how did Miracle come by it?” Kelsey asked.
Harrison didn’t answer, but he had a damn good idea. And by the look on Tremaine’s face, it was clear he’d come to that same conclusion. There was only one answer that fits the facts perfectly: Joshua Garrett was Miracle Jones’s long-lost father.
¤ ¤ ¤
Miracle walked through the fading light of the clear, cold November day, her scarf tightly wound around her black hair, frustration burning through her like wildfire. She’d spent weeks in this town to no avail. No one knew who her father was. He was a myth. She’d made a mistake. Obviously, he wasn’t from Rock Springs.
Grinding her teeth, she glanced down at the letter in her hands. She’d received another missive from Aunt Emily, who was afraid that Blue had found her and was making her life a living hell. Hah! Blue was the least of her worries. She had more than enough just trying to figure out why she was staying here when there was clearly no point.
Harrison Danner.
“Harrison Danner, Harrison Danner, Harrison Danner,” she spat, kicking a stone on the boardwalk. It rattled against the planks and landed with a kerplunk in the rain-washed street.
Her cherished dreams and hopes had disintegrated. Oh, yes, she’d overheard that he wasn’t engaged to Kelsey any longer. She’d heard it whispered behind a woman’s palm who in her next breath referred to Miracle as Danner’s mistress!
So, that was the way of it, huh? Miracle’s fists clenched. She should never have told him about their lovemaking. Curse her runaway tongue! Now she was a laughingstock. Injun whore. Worse than her mother.
She pressed cold palms to her hot cheeks, walking stiffly and rapidly toward her shop. First she would write a calm, reassuring letter to Aunt Emily. Maybe she would even hint that she and Uncle Horace were ready to move on. There was no point in staying, she reminded herself fiercely. Danner’s mistress. Oh, Lord, the humiliation was more than she could bear!
She rounded the corner, and her steps stopped short. A familiar buggy was parked in front of her shop. The Danner buggy. And in front of the windows stood Harrison Danner, peering through the fogged panes with an impatient, irritated expression on his face. He was rattling the door knob hard, pounding with his other fist against the panels.
Did he think she was waiting for him? Had enough time elapsed to insure Kelsey had saved face? Was the moment right for him to see his mistress?
“Thinking of breaking in?” Miracle asked coldly.
He twisted around, his hard features easing when he recognized her. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you don’t answer your door.”
“It’s difficult to do when I’m not at home.”
He arched a brow at her inhospitable tone. “So I see,” he said dryly. “Are you going to let me in now?”
“Can I stop you?” Extracting the shop’s key, Miracle twisted it in the lock and pushed open the door. The room was nearly as cold on this side of the door as it was on the other. Miracle crossed to the stove, cursing Uncle Horace beneath her breath for neglecting to light it.
“Is something wrong?”
She bristled, tossing in chunks of wood with controlled fury. “No.”
“You heard,” he said suddenly.
“That I’m Danner’s mistress? Yes!”
“I’m not certain who started the rumors, but I wouldn’t put it past Jace Garrett. He’s furious with me –”
“You deny starting them yourself?” Miracle whirled around, her blue eyes shimmering with anger and hurt.
“– for breaking my engagement with Kelsey.” Before Miracle could react, he stated heatedly, “Of course I deny starting them! Do you think I’m proud of what happened between us? For Chrissake, Miracle. I have some pride, too!”
“You broke your engagement to Kelsey?” she repeated, stunned. “Why?”
His gaze skated over her. “There were a lot of reasons. One being the way I feel about you,” he admitted, eyeing the way her fists were clenched into the fabric of her skirt. “But I’d prefer you kept your hands away from that knife you wear, all the same.”
Miracle stared at him. Hellfire! Had he said he’d broken his engagement because of her? But that didn’t mean his intentions were honorable, she reminded herself. “Is that why you’re here? To tell me about Kelsey?”
“Not exactly. I brought you something.�
�
“A gift.” Her lip curled at the thought. “My father gave his mistress a gift, too.”
“Yes, I know.” Amusement threaded his voice, and it was so out of place, Miracle narrowed her gaze at him. “He gave her this gift.” From beneath his bulky buckskin jacket he produced a small package.
“My tin box!” she exclaimed in amazement.
“This is yours?” he asked, extending it so she could have a better look.
“Yes, of course it’s mine.” Miracle quickly lit several lamps, taking the box from Harrison’s outstretched hands. “I told you about it, didn’t I? That’s right. I remember.”
“You told me it was stolen.”
“It was. Where did you find it?” In her eagerness Miracle almost forgot that she was furious with him. Almost.
“Someone left it at the Half Moon and Jace got hold of it. He showed it to Kelsey and she showed it to me.”
Some of Miracle’s joy evaporated at the reminder of Kelsey. She might not be his fiancée any longer, but that didn’t mean Miracle should expect to be treated with the same respect. Danner’s mistress still rang in her ears. Remembering her decision to leave town, she said stiffly, “I appreciate your bringing it back to me.”
“Actually, I was planning to give it to Sheriff Raynor. To see if he can tie it in to the kidnappers. Jace is at the jail already.”
“The kidnappers?” The blood left Miracle’s face. The box had been found in the Half Moon. Uncle Horace was over there now. What if the kidnappers should come back for the box, recognize Uncle Horace, and…
“Miracle, this box is Kelsey’s. It disappeared when she was just a child.”
She stared at him. Was he daft? “This is my box.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s Kelsey’s. Her father gave it to her.”
“This box? My box?”
Harrison felt like the worst kind of cad for being the one to destroy her last hope about her father. Joshua Garrett had been a slick, cheating, selfish, bullying bastard. A man who continually cheated on his wife – and not just with one lonely Chinook woman in Clatsop County.
“I don’t mean to call Kelsey a liar,” Miracle said dryly. “But that tin box is mine. There can’t be two.”