Amanda stood up and turned to confront him, anger quickening her heart.
“I never asked for anything but protection from you, Sam. I expected you to keep me safe, but you used me as if I were a cheap whore, then told everyone in town about us. You forced me into a marriage I never wanted, and if you can’t manage a simple apology for that, then get out of my room right now.”
Sam dropped his head and a dark lock of hair fell forward to obscure his face. When he lifted his gaze, a pleading look illuminated the depths of his eyes.
“I truly care about you, Amanda.” His voice was soft, the tone begging her to understand. “I didn’t brag about being with you. I told you before, our time together holds some of the best memories of my life. I wouldn’t share them with anyone.”
She wanted to believe him. The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, they all begged for her forgiveness. Her breasts ached for his touch as warmth cascaded through her body, the heat pooling to moisten the place between her legs. Yet, how many times had she believed his lies? Did she really even know the real Samuel Calhoun?
“But you did agree to seduce me for money, didn’t you, Sam?” She trembled with the question, because the answer terrified her.
He never blinked. He just rubbed his chin with one hand. Finally, he shrugged.
“I agreed to bed the Widow Wainwright, then ruin her reputation by boasting about it. The hope was that you’d go running out of Willow Creek and forget all about the Miners’ Benevolent Association.”
The heat suffusing Amanda’s body exploded into a flash of anger so overwhelming it sucked the air from her lungs. Fury blinded her. She picked up the first item she could find, which happened to be her silver hairbrush. She flung it at him. He dodged, but that increased her wrath. She reached for a bottle of lilac water.
“Wait a minute, Amanda.”
She flung the crystal container and he caught it, but the stopper had come loose, soaking his shirt with the scented liquid. He took a quick step sideways, moving in time to avoid the porcelain hair receiver, which whizzed by his head and splintered against the wall.
Amanda searched for something heavier, something that could inflict some real damage on Sam’s thick skull. She rummaged through a trunk and pulled out her beautiful china doll. For an instant, she considered tossing it at Sam. But she looked at the toy and realized she was acting like a spoiled child. Grown women did not indulge in temper tantrums.
Turning, she was startled to find Sam standing directly behind her. His hands snaked out to grasp her wrists, and his face was flushed, almost feverish looking.
“I said my plans involved the Widow Wainwright. I didn’t know anything about you, Amanda. I thought you were some snooty rich woman, hell-bent on changing this town to make yourself feel better. But after we met in the kitchen, after you told me about your sham of a marriage to Arthur—”
He stepped closer, his lips brushing her hair. She struggled, but even though he was in a weakened state, she was no match for Sam’s strength.
“After I made love to you and started to care about you, Amanda, I knew I couldn’t go through with the plan.” He released her, and she took a stumbling step back, falling onto the bench and staring up at him.
He fell to his knees in front of her and took her hands gently in his. “You were in my office the day I told the other mine owners I refused to go along with our agreement. Remember how they stormed out of there?”
“I saw some angry men leaving your office, but...” She closed her eyes. Sam’s words echoed in her heart. After I started to care about you. Her heart wanted to accept his words, to imagine that after they had become friends, then lovers, he wouldn’t deceive her. Her head reminded her she couldn’t trust her own judgment. She had been wrong before.
He touched her cheek and she opened her eyes. “I want to believe you, Sam, but there have been so many lies.” Tears prickled at the back of her eyes, but she fought for control. She refused to cry in front of him.
“I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. I don’t think I even believe what you’re telling me right now.” She studied his expression, then shook her head at him.
“I don’t know what to do, Sam. I need some time.” She rubbed her throbbing forehead. “Please,can’t we talk about his tomorrow? I’m so tired.”
Sam stood up, a painful grimace crossing his face. A small surge of pity jolted through her, but she pushed it away. She did need to sort out her feelings regarding Sam, but not tonight. She was too emotionally overwrought to make any decisions about their future. Too torn about what she felt for him. “You’d better get to bed yourself; you’ve had a rough day.” She purposely inserted a sarcastic note in her voice.
Sam hobbled toward the door separating their rooms and glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t have to believe anything I’ve told you, but believe this. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever. I can promise you that, Amanda.”
Amanda followed him to the door and slammed it shut behind him, turning the iron key in the lock, then leaning back against it. Tears silently slid down her cheeks as she realized the only person who could truly hurt her was standing on the other side of that doorway.
***
Amanda refused to play the dutiful wife and did everything in her power over the next few days to humiliate Sam. She spurned the offer of his arm when they entered the dining room. She ate her meals in pained silence. And whenever she had the opportunity, she needled him with a sarcastic remark or a short, curt answer to his questions.
People stopped to offer congratulations or sympathy, depending upon their mood. One grizzled old man walked up to them, shook Amanda’s hand, and told her he was “damned pleased you shot that son-of-a-bitch, ‘cause I been wantin’ to do it for months.” At night she slammed the door in Sam’s face and ignored his pleas to discuss the state of their marriage. She threw herself into the management of The Willow Creek Miners’ Benevolent Association, and often returned to her office to work with Mr. Penny until nearly midnight.
It irritated her to leave the association, only to discover Sam quietly smoking his cigar on the other side of the street, maintaining a vigil. He escorted her back to the hotel, begging her to talk to him with each step. She maintained a tightlipped silence and tried to ignore his pleas for forgiveness. Yet, her attitude grew softer. He patiently waited upon her, gently abided her rudeness, and quietly endured her bad humor. She fought an ever growing battle within herself, wanting to maintain a cold indifference, yet yearning to give him a small bit of encouragement.
Today was no different, and she drummed her fingers on the maple counter while considering her dilemma. What was she going to do about Sam? It was a constant source of concern and trepidation.
The ringing of the doorbell startled her out of her revelry. It was a rare sound, since the men who now came to the Miners’ Association felt welcome enough to enter without the need to request permission by pulling the bell.
Caleb’s dark head bobbed up from behind a stack of clothing. “You want I should get that, ma’am?”
Amanda smiled at her young assistant. Despite all of the trouble in her life, her success with Caleb McQueen was one bright note. He had become her faithful companion, good friend, and adept student. The growing warmth of their relationship a bright spot in an otherwise dreary emotional landscape.
She smoothed her dress and nodded. “Perhaps it’s a new miner, someone who doesn’t understand this building belongs to everyone and there’s no need to stand on formality. Do invite him in, Caleb.”
She stared at the ledger in front her and frowned. Mr. Penny had brought the figures to her this morning, telling her it appeared the Silver Slipper Mine was producing less ore than last month. The large vein could be petering out, and he suggested letting some of the men go. The decision haunted her. How could she take a man’s job away? How could she fulfill her pledge to
make the lives of these miners better, then snatch their very living from them?
A group of women entered the room behind Caleb, and Amanda’s jaw dropped in surprise. She had asked many of the miners to invite their wives, daughters, and sisters to the association, but up to this point, none of the women had presented themselves. She didn’t know if it was because of the building, or her own questionable reputation.
An older woman stepped forward, offered her hand to Amanda, and gestured toward the others.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Calhoun, we’ve been told you wanted to meet with some of the womenfolk. So we come to offer you our best wishes on your recent marriage.” She smiled tentatively. “We come to give you our thanks, too, for the things you’re doin’ for our menfolk.”
A flash of triumph rippled through Amanda. This was the very thing she’d been hoping for, an opportunity to talk to the women of Willow Creek.
Bustling from behind the counter, she removed her apron and offered her hand to the woman who had spoken.
“I’m so pleased you’ve come. Won’t you stay and have tea with me?” She signaled the young man standing behind her. “Go put the teakettle on, Caleb, then run over to the hotel and tell Harriet I have some special guests. Ask her if she could please send over a pie.”
The spokeswoman looked horrified. “Oh, Mrs. Calhoun, you don’t need to go to all that trouble.”
Amanda took the woman’s rough hand in hers. “Please say you’ll stay, I’ve hardly had any female visitors since I’ve been in town, and I do so miss talking with other ladies.”
“If you’re sure it won’t be no trouble, I guess we can stay.” She grinned at the other women. “We ain’t the sort who get invitations to fancy tea parties everyday, that’s for sure.”
Several of the other women giggled, and Amanda gave them all a warm smile. “You know who I am, now please tell me your names.”
The leader looked mortified. “I’m so sorry, that sure was rude of me to come bustin’ in here and never even mention who we was.”
Amanda pulled her toward the dining room and waved her other hand. “Please don’t worry about that, we can take all the time we need to get acquainted. I’m so hungry for female companionship, I could just cry sometimes.”
After uttering the words, Amanda realized the truth of the matter. For the past week, she’d been shutting herself in her room or trying to forget her troubles by working all of the time. She had brushed off Harriet’s offers to talk, and refused any real conversation with Sam. She was lonely.
The women stood around the huge mahogany dining table and gawked at the furnishings in the room. Amanda was keenly aware of the bright red and gold flocked wallpaper, the gaudy beaded trim on the burgundy velvet drapes, and the overabundance of gilt. She was about to apologize for the state of the building when the woman she had escorted into the room cleared her throat.
“I’m Margaret Abbott. You’ve met my son, Walter.” A bright look of pride shone in her eyes. “He works for your husband over at the lumber mill.”
Amanda’s cheeks grew warm at the reference to her husband. She never thought of Sam as her husband. At the mention of the word, her first reaction was always to think of Arthur.
“A very nice young man.” Amanda tried to keep her expression and voice nonchalant.
“This is my daughter-in-law, Sarah.” Margaret indicated a very pregnant woman who looked younger than Amanda. For a moment, a flash of jealousy jolted through her. The desire for children reminded her of the cruel twist her life had taken, trapping her in another loveless marriage. But she gave Sarah a bright smile. “It appears congratulations are in order for you.”
Sarah dropped her head and blushed, and the other women giggled.
“Sarah didn’t think it was proper for her to be callin’ on a new bride, but I said, best you know what you’re in for.”
A petite woman with carefully arranged dark curls offered her hand to Amanda. “My name is Lydia Brown, my husband is Sherman. Perhaps you’ve met him?”
Amanda nodded. “Perhaps, there are so many...” Lydia interrupted her. “You’d remember my Sherman. He’s so handsome, so very charming.”
“Don’t mind her,” Margaret said, “she’s only been married a month. She’s a new bride, just like you, and we know how starry-eyed you ladies can get.” She waved a finger at Lydia. “Mrs. Calhoun is likely saying all them things about her Sam, too.”
There was more laughter, and Amanda felt trapped. Handsome? Sam was surely that. And he had more charm than any man should legally be allowed to possess. That was the problem. Of course, she could also add deceitful, arrogant, and manipulative to the list. She suspected Lydia harbored warmer feelings toward her Sherman than she did toward Sam.
Disconcerted by her own bitterness, Amanda changed the topic of conversation. “And the final member of your entourage, who might this be?” She turned to a stately older woman, dressed in black.
Margaret made the introduction. “This is Katherine Foley, her husband was killed in a cave-in not long ago.”
Amanda dropped her gaze. A cave-in, one of the most feared events in a miner’s life. Crushed by rock, or smothered due to lack of air, it was a horrible way to die. Bright tears shone in Katherine’s eyes, and a warm rush of sympathy coursed through Amanda. She couldn’t relate to the loss of a lover, but Arthur had been a companion. She reached out to touch Katherine’s glove gently.
“I asked to come, because I wanted to say how much I appreciate all the things you’ve done for my family.” Katherine’s voice trembled. “You’ve made it possible for us to stay on here in Willow Creek. The food, the clothing, the money you gave us...”
Amanda’s backbone stiffened. How foolish she was, to waste so much time on the petty issues of her life. Women like Katherine Foley didn’t know where their next meal was coming from, or if they’d have a roof over their heads tomorrow.
She touched Katherine’s shoulder. “Let’s be seated, ladies.” Amanda nodded at the chairs placed around the table. “I’m glad you’ve come to see me, because to be honest, I desperately need your help.”
“I want to do everything possible for the people who work for the Silver Slipper Mine. My late husband, Arthur Wainwright”—she took a deep breath and crossed herself—“may his eternal soul rest in peace, made me give him a deathbed promise.” The other women were silent, raptly listening to her story.
“I came to Willow Creek to fulfill that promise, and despite everything that has happened, I plan to carry out Arthur’s wishes. I have sufficient funds in an account for the Miners’ Benevolent Association to provide for homes, a school, and a church.”
Caleb entered with a silver tea tray. The young man was clean, well fed, and had a glow of happiness about him. When Amanda had discovered his father was a drunk who beat him several times each week, she’d allowed him to move into a room upstairs. Every afternoon she gave him lessons, and she’d discovered he had a quick, resourceful mind.
Settling the tea tray on the table, he pointed at the plate of biscuits, dish of clotted cream, and apple pie.
“Mrs. Parmeter said if this weren’t—” Caleb stopped for a moment and blushed a beet red from the tips of his ears to the edge of his shirt collar. “Wasn’t good enough, to send me back for more.”
Amanda gave his shoulder a friendly pat. “This is wonderful, Caleb. Why don’t you take a treat for yourself, then go ahead and finish what you were doing. Our lessons will be a little late today.”
He gathered a handful of biscuits and ambled out of the room as she started to pour the tea.
“You’ve surely done wonders with that boy,” Margaret said. “If I didn’t hear you call him by name, I might not have knowed who he was.”
Offering each of her guests a china cup and saucer, Amanda nodded. “He’s a very special young man with immense potential. It’s made me ve
ry happy to be of assistance in helping to shape such a keen mind.”
She handed a long silver knife to Margaret. “Would you mind serving the pie?”
Margaret visibly puffed up with pride. “Why, I’d be right honored.” She lifted an eyebrow at Amanda. “Just hope I do it right. I never been around rich folk before.”
Amanda lifted the cup of tea to her lips and blew gently. “Just remember, rich folks enjoy their pie just like everyone else. Make the pieces generous.”
Her remark put the other women at ease, and before long they were lost in conversation, as Amanda outlined her plans for the town of Willow Creek. She caught their looks of relief when she mentioned recruiting a new doctor and the need for a hospital. Katherine clapped her hands at the announcement of a school and murmured that she’d been a teacher before she married. Amanda offered her a job, and was thrilled when the widow accepted.
By the end of their tea party, the five women had mapped out a plan for transforming a rough, rollicking mining town into a small island of civilization in the wilderness of the Montana territory. With their promises of support, Amanda assured them she would pay for all of the improvements. She promised them nothing would stand in the way of the Miners’ Association, because all of the money had been left in trust. She didn’t mention Sam, but knew they’d surely heard the tale of his betrayal.
Finally, the women pushed back their chairs, and Margaret coughed discreetly and blushed. She twisted her hands, and Amanda couldn’t imagine what was distressing the woman.
“There’s just one more thing, Mrs. Calhoun.”
“Please, call me Amanda.” She stepped forward to grasp one of Margaret’s hands. “We’re all friends now. Don’t be afraid to ask me for anything you need.”
The other women giggled, and Katherine tried to hide her face behind her hand. “It’s such an awful thing to ask, Margaret. Let’s just be on our way.”
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