Jason shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if claim-jumpers have taken the Dusty, you might want to file a report."
"Claim jumpers?"
"It happens all the time with unattended mines," Jason said. "But as soon as the jumpers know a mine’s being worked, they move on."
Jenny sighed. "I suppose I have no choice then."
Jason helped her up into the wagon, and she found herself sitting on a box barely wide enough for two. Jason went around and hoisted himself up beside her. Elbows on his knees, reins threaded through his fingers, he gave the command, and the horse leaned into its harness and started forward. Before long, the road began to zigzag in a series of uphill switchbacks, and soon they had a bird's-eye view of the town of Colby, far below. They overtook a man leading a burro with heavily-packed panniers on either side and picks and shovels poking out at uncertain angles, then Jason 3aowed the horse to set its own pace on the long upgrade.
The road was steep, and Jenny felt uneasy with the sharp drop-off on one side. But once the road began to level off she relaxed, and before long, she found herself studying Jason's large sun-bronzed hands, wondering how many women had felt those calloused palms on their bare flesh, those broad masculine fingers caressing secret places. Would his hands be groping and impatient, or would they move leisurely over a woman's body? Her heartbeat quickened and heat rushed up her face. Good gracious! Why would she even care?
Thunder rumbled across the sky and clouds blocked the sun, turning everything a dismal gray. "How much further?" she asked, looking anxiously at the darkened sky.
"A couple of miles." Jason clicked his tongue for the horse to move faster.
Another peal of thunder rolled through the sky. Jenny looked up at the dark menacing clouds. "Shouldn't we turn back?" she asked, worried.
"We’ll take shelter in the shaft house at the Phantom,” Jason said. “It’s that cluster of buildings just ahead. And while we're there, I'll show you what a vein of gold ore looks like."
As they pulled into the compound, a deafening clap of thunder announced that rain was imminent. Jason drew the wagon to a halt in front of the shaft house, jumped down and went around to help Jenny. She braced her palms against his shoulders, and he placed his hands on her waist and eased her down. Before she could ponder the fact that her hands were still on his shoulders, and his were at her waist, and she wasn’t trying to pull free, the sound of hoof beats caught their attention. In the distance, three men on horses galloped toward them.
Jason released her and grabbed his shotgun. Stepping in front of her, he nudged her to stay behind him. “Who is it?” she asked, peering around him.
“No one I can’t handle," Jason said. "Just stay behind me.” Standing squarely in front of her, his finger curved around the trigger, he waited until the men reined in. Directing his words to the elder of the three, he said, "Get off my claim, Bishop."
Jack Bishop eyed the shotgun. "Not until I talk to the widow MacDonald.”
Jason said in a low, lethal tone, "Ride out right now, Bishop, or I'll carry you out in the back of this wagon, and you won't be tied and gagged. You'll be in a gunny sack."
Jenny peeked around Jason. "What is it you want, Mr. Bishop?"
Bishop focused on Jenny, and said, "To make you an offer on the Dusty."
Jason tilted his head toward her. "Don't get trapped into this, Jenny. You don't know who you're dealing with."
"I don't need you to mollycoddle me, Mr. Colby," Jenny said in a voice meant only for his ears. She stepped around to stand beside him. "The Dusty is not for sale, Mr. Bishop."
Bishop focused on her. "I'll give you a thousand more than whatever Colby offers."
"I'll keep that in mind," Jenny said, "but right now I'm not interested."
"You heard her," Jason said. "Now get off my claim."
"I'm not done yet, Colby." Bishop turned to Jenny. "I have information about your husband and the man you’re keeping company with right now that you might want to hear.”
Jason leveled the shotgun at Bishop’s belly. “Mrs. MacDonald isn’t interested in what you have to say. Now get the hell off my claim or you’ll get a gut full of buckshot.” The soft snick of the safety on Jason's gun assured Jack Bishop he’d do exactly what he said.
Bishop focused on the twin barrels. “I’ll leave this time,” he said, “but this isn’t the last you’ll hear from me. Keep that in mind.”
“And you keep in mind that if you set foot on this claim again, or on the Dusty, or go near Mrs. MacDonald, I’ll shoot you for claim jumping and no one will question my motive.”
Bishop’s eyes shifted between Jason and Jenny, then he turned his horse and galloped off, his men close behind.
Jenny planted her hands on her hips. “You had no right to do that," she said,. "If Mr. Bishop has information about Myles, I want to hear it.”
“Bishop and I have a long-time score to settle and it has nothing to do with you or your husband,” Jason said. A peal of thunder exploded in a booming crack, seeming to split the sky wide open. Heavy drops quickly turned to a torrential downpour. “Get inside,” he yelled. Lightening flashed, thunder cracked, and Jenny dashed inside the shaft house.
Standing at the window, Jenny peered through the torrent to where Jason was hastily tying the horse to a hitching rail. His words, moments before, 'Bishop and I have a long-time score to settle,' were deeply troubling. But they also shed light on a mystery that had baffled her for months. The identity of the person who sent the note to Myles that she'd found among his belongings after his death. Mailed to Myles before they left Iowa, and attached to a newspaper clipping of Jason Colby's latest venture, the note read: ‘Your visit confirmed what I suspected. He's our man. Will take action when you arrive.’ It was signed: JB.
For months she wondered who JB was. Now she realized it was Jack Bishop. Although Jason said he and Jack Bishop had a long-time score to settle, the note indicated that Myles had a score to settle with Jason as well. But the most troubling of all was that Jason was the one who brought Myles' body in. Jason claimed Myles had been killed by the outlaw they were tracking, who got away, and no one questioned the truth of it...
But then they wouldn't. Jason Colby's word was gospel...
The door swept open and Jason stomped in, kicking the door shut behind. He rested the shotgun by the window and snatched off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. Jenny eyed the shotgun while mulling over Jason’s heated encounter with Jack Bishop. “Mr. Bishop may have a score to settle with you,” she said, “but he apparently has information about Myles for me, and I want to hear what he has to say.”
Jason’s jaws clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “Bishop’s not a man to trifle with. He views women with one purpose in mind."
“I’m not afraid of Jack Bishop,” Jenny said. “If he wasn’t a coward he would have challenged you instead of riding off. Certainly he didn’t believe you would have shot him.”
"Obviously he did or he wouldn't have ridden off," Jason replied.
Jenny looked at Jason long and hard, and said, "Would you have... shot him, that is?"
"In an instant," Jason replied.
"Why? Because he knows something about Myles that involves you?"
The look of awareness in Jason’s eyes caught Jenny’s notice. But it quickly passed, and he replied, "No, because he's a cold-blooded bastard who wouldn't think twice about killing me and having his way with you, and as long as you're set on running the Dusty, he'll be next door at the Vigilante waiting for his chance. So I'll make my offer one last time. Six thousand for the Dusty."
"Which means I could get seven thousand from Jack Bishop," Jenny replied. "But like I said, I don't want your money, I want your men to work my mine." Jason's persistence, along with Jack Bishop's open-ended offer made Jenny more determined than ever to hold onto the Dusty. It had to be sitting on a major vein.
"You're being a stubborn fool," Jason said.
"Stubborn, perhaps," Jenny acknowledged. "As
for being a fool… Time will tell which of us can claim that title."
Jason let out a snort of disgust, then peeled off his wet shirt and hung it over a chair. As he mopped his chest with a rag, Jenny focused on his hard-muscled torso and the line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his low-slung pants, drawing her attention to the blatant bulge below. Her heartbeat quickened, her lungs felt starved for air, and heat rushed to her face, settling like hot brands in her cheeks.
And deep inside, a bittersweet yearning began to stir.
She licked her dry lips. Could she possibly be attracted to Jason Colby in an intimate way? She'd never felt anything like this with Myles, never took pleasure in the marital act. She'd submitted out of duty. But she could not deny this yearning—a desire unlike any she’d ever known. But she disliked Jason Colby and everything the man represented. She also had no intention of giving herself to any man again, falling prey to empty promises.
She glanced up and caught the raw, unguarded look on his face. "It's raining very hard," she said, because she couldn't think of anything else, his intense gaze, and the sight of his naked torso making her thoughts disjointed.
One corner of his mouth quirked. "Good observation."
"Yes... well..." She nervously batted her eyelids. "The place seems deserted."
"It's Sunday," he commented.
"Then the men are at church?" she asked.
Jason laughed a deep rumbling sound. "No, they're in town getting drunk as skunks. On Sundays I give out free drinks at the Tin Bucket."
Jenny focused on the wide expanse of his firm muscular chest. "That's barbaric," she said, fighting the urge to run her palm over the lean hard muscles glistening in the lamplight, just to see if they were as solid as they looked.
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
“A compliment?” She struggled to recall what had galled her, but all that came to mind was a torso gleaming with moisture. Realizing she was staring, she looked up and said, “No, it's barbaric that... um…" That what? Her point had completely escaped her.
"That I give out free drinks on Sunday?"
"Well, yes," she said, determined to focus on his face.
“I give drinks only to those who attended church the day before."
"Church is on Saturday?" Jenny asked.
"It's the only day the preacher can come."
"Oh."
"Any more questions about my dubious character?"
"No.”
Jason tossed the rag aside. "Good, because you're going to be alone with me in the depths of this mountain. Unless you're afraid I'll seduce you."
"Well, no. I'm not."
"Smart woman." He shrugged into a fleece-lined jacket, lit a safety lamp and handed it to her, then lit another for himself. "This mine's a network of drifts, crosscuts and vertical shafts," he said, "so stay close behind me. Better yet, hold my hand. If we get separated, I doubt you could find your way back."
The thought of clinging to Jason's hand in the dark depths of a mine seemed more threatening than being lost in the maze. "I'll stay close behind," Jenny said, refusing his hand.
"Suit yourself."
They entered a cavern with walls that glistened like golden dew in the lamplight. The cavern narrowed into a rock-hewn tunnel that snaked into the mountain, and at regular intervals, crosscuts and drifts branched off the main tunnel. Some distance into the mine, Jason glanced back and said, "I assume it was your husband who taught you to shoot."
"Yes," Jenny replied, "but I'm surprised you'd bring up my husband. After all, if it had not been for your insistence that he take the marshal’s job, he would still be alive."
Jason clinched his jaws. He would at least set part of the record straight. "I didn’t approach your husband about the job. He came to me."
"That's just not so," Jenny insisted. "Myles told me you put pressure on him to take the job when you learned he'd been a lawman."
Jason glanced back. "He lied. I didn't know he'd been a lawman until he told me."
"I find that difficult to believe," Jenny challenged. "Myles promised me he'd give up being a lawman if I agreed to sell the house and move out here. I cannot imagine him going back on his word, unless he was being pressured into doing so."
"Maybe he intended to give it up, but changed his mind when he learned we needed a marshal," Jason said, offering her a plausible reason. She didn't need to know the rest.
Jenny took so long to answer, Jason turned around to make sure she was still there. She looked at him. "I suppose that could be possible," she said. "Myles was pretty dedicated. I guess being a lawman and fighting for what's right was just too much a part of him."
Jason clamped his jaws shut. Either Jenny was covering for her dead husband, or she knew nothing about him. He wasn't sure which. At the shooting match she'd blind-sighted him with her skill, which led to doubts about her. Determined to learn just how much she did know, he said, "How long had you known your husband when you married?"
A few moments ticked by before Jenny replied, "A couple of months. Which may seem like a very short time to you," she qualified, "but Myles was the new marshal in town, so I knew he was someone upstanding. And he was such a gentleman."
Jason repressed a snort of derision. The man had been a smooth talker. He gave him that. The question was… If Jenny was the decent, self-respecting woman she appeared to be, why had the man gone after her in the first place? He wasn't the type to be strapped down with a wife… Unless, at the time, she'd had something he wanted. "Did you own property when you married?" he asked, realizing too late how tactless the question was.
"What an incredibly insensitive thing to say," Jenny clipped. "Are you implying that Myles married me for that reason?"
"Of course not," Jason said, his tone conciliatory. "I was just curious."
"Well, I did happen to own the house that I inherited from my parents," she admitted, "but I can assure you, Myles did not marry me to acquire it." A few moments later, she added, "I know I'm not the type of woman you're attracted to, but is it so hard for you to believe that a man might marry me because he happened to love me?"
"That's not hard to believe at all," Jason said. "You're a very attractive woman. But just out of curiosity, what happened to the house?"
Another few moments ticked by before Jenny replied, "We sold it to buy the Dusty."
"Then your husband brought no assets to the marriage?" Jason queried.
"Well, no," Jenny replied. "But I was perfectly willing to sell the house. Myles had heard stories about fortunes being made in gold, and he wanted to invest in a mine. So right after we sold the house, he came to this area looking to find one, which he did. He also went to Black Hawk and checked the mining records before he bought the Dusty, which was how he knew it was sitting on a major vein. "
"Your husband obviously read the records wrong," Jason said. "There is no gold in the Dusty." This fact Jason knew. He'd checked the records himself when the mine came up for sale. Coincidentally, that must have been when Jenny's husband was in Colby. The owner of the Dusty had fallen to his death from the cliffs edge, and right afterwards, Jenny's husband bought the Dusty from the man's widow. Now, Jason wondered, had the man fallen to his death, or had he been pushed? What he didn't understand was why both Jenny's husband and Jack Bishop wanted the Dusty at all. Something didn't fit. He didn't question Jenny's belief that there was gold in the mine though, and he'd be hard pressed to convince her otherwise.
Which she reaffirmed by saying, "Jack Bishop would not want to buy the Dusty unless there was gold in it, nor would my husband have sold everything we owned to buy it."
Jason decided to drop the issue. In time he'd learn what secret the mine held, which might also shed light on the relationship between Jenny's husband and Jack Bishop. It was no coincidence that they both showed up in Colby about the same time. But, then, there were a long string of skeletons in the Jason Colby closet. Jenny's dead husband wasn't the last of them. But J
ack Bishop was a mystery. As far as Jason knew, they'd never crossed paths before Bishop moved to Colby. And Bishop wasn't talking, at least not to him. Jack Bishop did, however, have something he was anxious to pass on to Jenny. But the only way he'd get a chance to do that, Jason vowed, would be over his cold, dead body. And the sooner he let Jack Bishop know that Jenny was off limits to the likes him, the better.
"I never thought to ask your husband," he ventured, hoping to glean more information, "but where did he live before taking the marshal's job in Cedar Rapids?"
"Somewhere in Nebraska… I think," Jenny replied.
"You don't know where your husband came from?"
"Well, no. Like I said, I'd only known him a couple of months."
"Did he have family?"
After another long pause, Jenny replied, "Maybe some brothers. But he never talked about them."
Jason glanced over his shoulder. "If he never talked about them, what made you think he had brothers?"
"I saw a picture of Myles with two men who resembled him," Jenny replied, "so I assumed they were his brothers."
"You assumed?" Jason asked. "Why didn't you just ask him?'
"Well, I was sort of snooping through his things when I found the picture," Jenny admitted. "I was curious to learn more about him. Myles didn't like to talk about his past, so I assumed he'd had a bad childhood or something."
Jenny was becoming annoyed with all the questions. And defensive. She was also beginning to realize how little she knew about Myles. She'd rarely pressed him for details because whenever she had, he’d fly into a fit of temper. Then she’d become apologetic for daring to pry into his past. But Myles was gone, so all the questions she'd never asked were irrelevant. Nor did she have any curiosity about the man at this point. That chapter in her life was over. It had not been a pleasant one.
At the intersection of two crosscuts, she held her lamp up to the rock wall and saw flecks of what appeared to be gold. She stepped closer to study the particles, trying to decide if they were in fact gold, or perhaps quartz crystals reflecting the golden lamplight. When standing at a distance the particles did indeed look like gold, but when she held the lamp close, they took on a transparent quality, which led her to believe they were quartz...
Colby's Child Page 4