by Jenna Kernan
Crawford snorted. Miss Burns sank back into her seat to pout.
“Mr. Crawford,” said the older woman. “I must insist you return the necklace. It belongs to my niece and she has left it in my custody.”
“No, Mrs. Maguire. Until I hear otherwise, this necklace belongs to Mr. Pickett.”
Chapter Sixteen
A fter the river had sufficiently receded, Sam carried Kate to safety. But the water was hip deep in places, so they were thoroughly soaked when they reached dry ground. He had a devil of a time finding his horse. Just when he decided to give up his search downstream, his whistle was answered by a frantic series of whinnies. He found his sorrel by a debris pile, muddy and shivering, ears perked as he whinnied for help. He had almost reached the bank when his reins snagged, leaving him stranded in water up to his hocks.
Sam whistled again and the gelding pawed at the water and tossed his head.
It was hard to say which of them was most grateful to see the other. Sam had him free in a matter of minutes, and then he helped Kate up to the waterlogged saddle. The beast would be lucky not to have several saddle sores from the wet blanket and muddy girth, but there was no helping it until they reached the sawmill.
Sam mounted behind Kate and steered them back up what was left of the raised gravel log road. Kate’s teeth were clattering and he felt warm only where his chest pressed to her back. Once they were within sight of the camp, he called for a blanket for Kate. She was bundled off to the foreman’s cabin and into the charge of Grace Mackenzie, the foreman’s wife.
Next, he sent a heavily armed search party after John Potts.
Finally, Sam headed for what had been their millpond. It had actually been more of a deep, narrow lake in what had once been a gorge cut between two steep cliffs. Even he was surprised by the amount of water they had captured.
He made a quick inspection with the foreman, noting that the mill wheel was now high and dry but intact. The dam had been obliterated.
One of the Pinkertons returned at a gallop. “They left a man behind. He was injured in the explosion.”
“How bad?”
“He’s dying, sir.”
“Take me to him.”
“We won’t make it in time.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes, sir. He said they were hired by Robert Donahue.”
“Donahue!” Sam might have known. The man was among his most vocal opponents, with a reputation for bending the law that stretched back to the gold rush when he’d manned his vessels by shanghaiing unsuspecting men from the docks.
“Do you want us to pursue the others, stay to guard the mill or split our forces and do both?”
“Send them to guard the work camps.”
“I suggest a detail of at least two men for your personal safety, sir.”
He was about to object and then he remembered Kate. “Fine. Post them outside the foreman’s house.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And get me someone who can ride. I need to send a wire.”
The man bobbed his head again and set off. Before he made his way back to the foreman’s cabin, a rider approached, ready to carry Sam’s message to Cole.
Sam paused at the door to the cabin. Yesterday, he had kept Kate in grand style and today he’d nearly killed her. His jaw clenched as he recognized that he didn’t know the first thing about how to protect her. He was good with burrowing in the earth and at making money. But this…
Would she forgive him for what he had put her through?
He swallowed back the guilt, lifted his hand and knocked. Grace ushered him in, stripping him of his wet coat, and handed him a cup of hot coffee.
“Get Mr. Pickett a blanket, Henry,” she said to her husband, her brogue thick making the word “get” sound like “git.”
Henry Mackenzie thumbed over his shoulder toward the closed door. “They’re all in there.”
Sam knew instantly that Kate was behind that door.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” came the reply from his wife.
“Well, then, you go get it.”
Grace marched toward the door and then changed her mind and stopped before Sam. Her voice now had none of the irritation she had shown with her husband.
“She was upset, so we gave her some privacy. I cleaned the dirt and gravel out of her hand. Just scraped is all and I’m heating some water to soak her feet. Why don’t you go in and comfort her?”
Sam hesitated, feeling suddenly cold inside and out. He hadn’t tried to comfort anyone since his mother had left them at the orphanage. Don’t cry, Randy. I’ll take care of you.
He reached for the latch but paused at the unfamiliar sound. He pressed his ear to the rough boards. She was crying.
Sam backed away from the door. He had no idea how to console a weeping woman. It wasn’t the type of skill he had developed from his early childhood in a whorehouse or later with the nuns.
Besides, it was his damn fault she was crying in the first place.
Grace gave him a nudge. “Go on, lad. She won’t bite you.”
When he still hesitated, she reached around him and rapped on the door.
“Sam’s here, miss.”
The door flew open and Kate flung herself into his arms. He glanced back at the couple to find Grace standing misty-eyed with her hands clasped at her bosom. Her husband, on the other hand, seemed to have taken a sudden interest in the ceiling planking.
“Come, Gracie.” Henry grasped her arm and drew her toward the door. “Call if you need us.” He hurried his wife from the cabin.
“Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry about John. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t run fast enough,” said Kate.
“Man’s a hero.”
“What if he died because of me? I couldn’t live with that.”
He held her tight. “We’re searching now. We’ll find him.”
She wrapped her arms about him and the rough wool blanket dropped from her shoulders onto the floor. She still stood in her muddy clothing.
“Come on, Kate. We need to get out of these duds.”
He searched the bedroom and found Kate a flannel robe and nightgown, which she refused to put on until she had washed. He inspected her hands and found them the only clean part of her. The scrapes had already stopped bleeding.
Nothing from the foreman’s small wardrobe would fit Sam, so he called out to his guards.
“Get me something to wear.”
One of the men headed off.
Sam stripped out of his wet things and wrapped the blanket around his waist. Then he filled the tin washtub for Kate.
“Right here in the middle of the kitchen?” she asked, sounding horrified.
“I’ll guard the door.”
She lowered her chin and stared at him. “I’m not worried about who’s outside.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I think I can contain myself until you’re clean and dressed.”
But it turned out he couldn’t. He had to help her out of her tattered jacket, peeling it off like the skin of an orange. Then he pulled the ruffled blouse over her head. That left her in a nearly transparent chemise and a corset that pressed her breasts invitingly up at him. He gulped.
“I knew it,” she said.
He walked to the door and pressed his head to the solid wood. “Just wash up quick, will you?”
A few moments later he heard the splashing. Facing the door didn’t help. It just allowed his mind to supply images of Kate naked and as slick as a seal.
He turned around and found that his mind did not do her justice, for his imaginings were nothing compared with the picture she made standing naked in the tub all rosy and wet.
He took a step in her direction. A knock sounded at the door. Kate leaped out of the water and grabbed the quilt he had left her.
Sam opened the door. Instead of the clothing he expected he found a rider standing before him, still gripping the reins of his lathered horse. He glanced at the beast’s heaving side
s and the foam dripping from its mouth.
“What’s happened?” asked Sam.
“We found him, Mr. Pickett. Potts. He was clinging to a logjam.”
Kate flew to the door, elbowing past Sam. Her borrowed robe was cinched, but her calves and ankles were bare.
“Is he alive?”
The man stumbled back a step as he gazed in astonishment at Kate, wet hair tumbling down her back and bosom heaving.
“Ah…”
Sam scowled, wrapping an arm around Kate’s waist, drawing her back to him. “Spit it out, man.”
“Yes. Alive.”
“Injured?” he asked.
“Doesn’t appear to be. Just shivering like a…” He glanced at Kate and lost the ability to speak once more. Sam was beginning to get used to the effect she had on men. He understood the rider’s befuddlement as he found himself in the same state much of the time.
“Where is he?”
“They’re bringing him to the camp now.”
Sam nodded. “See to his needs and we’ll speak to him tomorrow. Call me if there’s any change.”
The rider nodded and backed off the porch.
“Thank you,” called Kate.
The man cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked when he spoke to her. “You’re welcome.”
Sam closed the door in his face.
“Are you trying to torture the man?”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t got a stitch on under that robe and you’re still cold.” He stared at her chest.
“Oh!” She flushed, folding her arms across her chest.
“Too late now. Lucky he didn’t take a fit right there on the threshold.”
“I was just so relieved. Oh, Sam! He’s alive! I’m so happy. My prayers were answered.”
He scowled. The bad things he’d prayed wouldn’t happen had all happened anyway, leaving him to try and live with them. Some days were easier than others.
“Sam?” She stared at him with open curiosity. “Are you all right?”
“Not for a long time.” He peered out the window. “Where are my damned clothes?”
Kate stepped forward and rested her hands on his bare chest. “Do you really need them?”
He drew her in, relishing the clean, soapy scent of her skin. He breathed deep, cradling her head in the palm of his hand. She stared up at him with green eyes that promised him the world.
“I thought I’d lost you today,” he whispered. “Never want to feel like that again.”
She stroked his back with her fingertips, encouraging him.
“Kate, I realized something out there.”
She smiled up at him. All the anxiety had gone out of her now. Her conscience was clear and her heart glad.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You didn’t, silly.” She tried to wiggle back into his arms.
He held her back. “You don’t understand. When that dam broke, something changed inside me.”
Her forehead wrinkled now. “Sam, what are you saying?”
How could he tell her he wanted more than just a few nights’ pleasure. That he wanted her in the morning, afternoon and evening from now until he saw his last sunset. He wanted to share his dreams and his nightmares and to offer her his heart.
He wanted her to be his wife.
Don’t mention marriage. That would surely send her running.
“You’re not going back to your aunt’s house. I want you to stay with me.”
“Yes, Sam. We agreed on that already. An apartment, wardrobe—”
“I’m not talking about our arrangement.” His voice was sharper than he intended.
He felt her stiffen and edge back. He clamped his teeth together to keep from mentioning what he really wanted. She’d only known him a few days. It was too soon to have fallen in love with him, wasn’t it? Yet he was absolutely certain that Kate was the woman for him. Nothing on earth had ever felt so right as this.
If only he could convince her to take a chance on him. If she’d only do that, he’d spend his life trying to make her happy.
“Sam?”
He stared down at her, wanting her, needing her and still fearing that she would reject him.
She pressed herself against his chest. “I’m cold, Sam.”
He gathered her close. This much, at least, she would accept from him. It showed she no longer feared him, didn’t it?
It was a beginning.
He swept her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Chapter Seventeen
A n hour later, Kate gazed at the stripped pine beams crossing the ceiling. The fading sunlight made the room golden and cozy. She snuggled beneath the patch quilt that covered them after their lovemaking and wished this was her home.
How lovely it would be if Sam was not the richest man in Sacramento and she was not his mistress. She imagined trading places with the foreman and his wife. He would see to the mill and she would care for their home.
In her fantasy, she was free of the responsibility of her aging aunt, the boardinghouse and her sister.
Kate squeezed her eyes shut tight as the shame surged through her. How could she want to abandon Phoebe even in a silly fantasy, when Phoebe’s condition was entirely her fault? Kate knew she could never make that right, but she could make her sister’s life bearable. But now she had gotten all tangled up inside. Now she was envisioning things that would never happen and overlooking things she could never forsake.
She had expected to be crushed beneath Sam’s boot heel. How could she have anticipated that he would treat her with kindness and dignity or that she would long for him with her body and soul?
He was remarkable. In mere days, he had changed her opinion on so many things. And she no longer dreaded his touch, in fact, she longed for it.
She stroked Sam’s arm. Sam startled awake, glanced at her, smiled and fell back to the bed. Perhaps he was no more used to sharing a bed than she was. Kate dragged the quilt up over his shoulder.
“You warmed up now?” he muttered.
“Yes, thank you.”
He grunted. “Good, ’cause you’re likely to kill me if we do that again.”
She laughed. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”
He squeezed her tight. “’S all right.”
His eyes closed again and he rested his chin on the top of her head.
He gripped her bottom and drew her close. “I wouldn’t mind being wrapped up like this every night.”
It wasn’t a future exactly, but did cause the slightest twinkle of hope, as if the evening star had just appeared in the night sky for her to wish upon. Perhaps he would not grow tired of her too quickly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been that cold before,” she said, nestling close.
He stiffened. “I have.”
Something about the way he said that sent a chill down her spine. His voice had sounded strained. She drew back to look at Sam but what she saw gave her no reassurance. He stared off at nothing as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. The hand that a moment earlier had caressed her shoulder now bunched into a trembling fist. Her heart began to thud painfully in her chest.
“Sam?”
He didn’t answer, as if he could not hear her.
She jostled him, pushing at his ribs. “Sam!”
He seemed to snap back to her and he blinked as if she had suddenly appeared from nowhere.
“What just happened?” she asked.
He pressed both hands over his eyes and gasped as if surfacing from deep water.
She rested a hand on his chest. He grasped it, holding her a little too tightly. It reminded her of the grip she’d had on his collar when she thought he would sink below the muddy water once more.
“Sam, tell me what’s wrong.”
He swallowed hard. “I want to. I just can’t seem to find the words.”
She sat up, tucking the quilt beneath her arms. “Sam, you’re frightening me.”
<
br /> He pushed himself up beside her and rubbed his forehead. “Today you were worried about Mr. Potts.”
“Yes. Because I felt responsible. He most certainly would have escaped harm if not for my slowing him.”
“You were weighted down by guilt.”
“That is it exactly.” He understood then. Earlier she feared he might have misinterpreted her concern as some silly infatuation. Potts was very sweet and brave, but she had no feelings for him beyond profound gratitude and responsibility for his present situation.
“Then perhaps you can imagine what it might be like to carry that burden over the course of years rather than hours.”
She tried to do as he asked and for some reason pictured an ember, burning into a piece of wood long after the flame had been extinguished. What burden did he carry? Was it hot like burning coal or cold like a shard of ice?
He stared down at her, his face earnest. “I’ve done something that tainted me. I don’t ever feel clean since that day on the mountain.”
Kate’s body went cold as she recognized he was telling her about the Broadner Party.
His eyes looked sad. “I don’t claim to understand what makes two people the same inside, Kate. But I know it when I see it. You’ve got starch in your spine. You’re a fighter, like me. And you suffered your losses, things that would kill some folks. But they didn’t kill us. You feel responsible for your sister’s condition. While I’ve done something shameful and I can’t forgive myself for it.”
Kate felt a creeping dread as she wondered what he had done.
“I never told anyone about that time, but I think of it every damn day.”
She cautioned herself not to be horrified by whatever he said. This was Sam and she trusted him. Whatever it was, she was sure he’d had no choice.
“Me and Cole were mule skinners on the journey west, driving the teams. I’d just started shaving at the start. When we reached these here mountains, the snows came early, the families broke up to make their own shelters. But we had no families, so they left me and Cole high and dry. See we didn’t have no supplies of our own as we was working our way across. The deal included food and a spot under the wagon, but all bets were off after that snow.”