“Jase!” A young man bearing a strong resemblance to Jason ducked through the doorway to the shaft house and started toward them.
“That’s Seth,” Jason said. He jumped down, and taking Seth’s arm, ushered him out of range of Jenny’s hearing, and said in a hushed voice, “I want you to convince the widow MacDonald that this is a lost cause.”
“Yeah, well, it might not be,” Seth said. “I was checking shorings, and at a cross cut, I came to a cave-in and found a seam of what looks to be high-grade silver ore.”
Jason glanced at Jenny, who sat on the wagon staring at him with curiosity. “Keep it quiet for now," he said to Seth. "I don’t want to get Mrs. MacDonald’s hopes up in case it doesn’t pan out." But it wasn’t Jenny’s hopes being dashed he feared. It was the fact that Seth could be right. From the time he’d introduced Seth to mining, Seth had become obsessed with finding, assessing and grading ore, until by age twenty-four, he was an expert. If he believed he’d found high-grade silver ore, chances are he had, which meant Jenny wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. A thought that troubled Jason deeply.
Glancing back at Jenny, he saw that Lily was becoming restless. Turning from Seth, he walked over to the wagon and raised his hands. Jenny passed Lily into his arms and climbed down. He continued holding Lily as they walked over to where Seth stood. Seth looked at Lily, who was nestled in the crook of Jason’s arm, her tiny hand wrapped around his finger, then at Jason, who silently dared him to make a comment.
Seth turned to Jenny. “Come on in. I’ll show you the mine.”
They followed Seth into the shaft house. Sun streamed through holes in the roof where shingles had been stripped off by wind and weather, casting patterns of light and shadow over everything it touched. The interior was a framework of wooden girders and beams, ladders and platforms. Jenny looked at Seth and asked, “How long will it take to see the mine?”
Seth shrugged. “Not long. We're shoring it up right now, but it’s still too dangerous to go very far. I'll take you a little ways down the main tunnel.”
Lily started fussing. “She must be hungry," Jenny said.
Jason looked at Jenny, puzzled. “You fed her just before we left.”
Jenny blushed. “She fell asleep while we were talking and probably didn’t get enough. I’ll feed her now and see the mine after. Could you find something for me to sit on?”
“Right.” Cradling Lily in his arm, Jason dragged over a wooden box. Jenny started to unbutton her blouse, then looked at Seth and paused. Jason nodded for Seth to leave, and he held Lily while Jenny opened her blouse and camisole for Lily to nurse. But as a full breast began to emerge, Jason passed Lily to her and left.
Seth was waiting outside. Giving Jason a cynical smile, he said, “I’ve never seen you jump to the snap of a woman’s fingers before, Jase. Is there something I’m missing here?”
Jason folded his arms. “She’s the widow of my marshal and I owe her.”
“Are you sure that’s all?" Seth said, lips curved in a wry smile. "You looked pretty cozy in there with her and her babe. Seems she’s given you nursing mother’s privileges too.”
“I’m Lily’s godfather.”
“Ah yes, which means you get to share her mother. Does Mrs. MacDonald burp you when you’re finished?”
Jason didn’t know when he’d thrown the punch, but the next instant, Seth was on the grown. Seth slowly raised himself, one hand holding his jaw. “Why the hell did you do that?”
Jason picked up Seth’s hat and shoved it on Seth’s head. “Because you crossed into my territory, boy, and I won’t have it. That’s a sample of what you can expect if you make any more coarse comments about Mrs. MacDonald. Have I made myself clear?”
Seth dabbed at the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, and said, “I don’t think you could be much clearer.”
“Good.” Jason offered Seth a hand and pulled him up. “She’s Mrs. MacDonald to you, you’ll treat her with respect, and if anyone makes any crude comments about her you bring him to me.” He turned and walked into the shaft house, leaving Seth staring after him.
Jenny looked up when he entered. “What was that all about?"
Jason faced the window again as he replied, “It was about Seth learning to respect women. If he doesn't learn fast, he’ll never convince one of the brides to marry him.”
“So it was all about Seth getting a bride,” Jenny said, with a half-hearted sigh.
“No, it was about Seth respecting the mother of my godchild," Jason replied. "He got the point. It’ll carry over to the brides.”
"May I ask what he said about me?" Jenny said, curious.
"Seth jumped to some wrong conclusions," Jason replied. "I straightened him out."
Jenny looked at Jason's broad back. “You’re taking your role as godfather seriously, but it wasn't intended to be permanent. For you it was a game, and I saw it as a sham. Why is it important now?” She didn’t know what she expected to hear. All she knew was, for some reason, being Lily’s godfather had become important to Jason, and she wondered why.
Jason lapsed into thoughtful silence, and as the moments ticked by, Jenny wondered if he was struggling to say something, or to hold something back. When at last he spoke, his voice was melancholy...
“When I was a boy I had a dog, a mutt who’d strayed into my life, but he was my mutt. He didn’t care what I was, or who I was. I was his and he was mine. Whenever I was down he’d lap his wet tongue across my face and make me laugh. And when life had a way of turning on me, he’d be there wagging not just his tail, but his whole body. And I’d ruffle his ears and tussle with him, and before long I’d have forgotten what had gotten me down. Then one day he didn’t have the sense to be quiet when my mother demanded it, and she shot him, right in front of me.” He turned and looked at her.
Jenny stared at Jason’s cheerless face and sensed that little boy still lurking inside him. If she hadn’t been nursing Lily, she would have put her arms around him and cradled his head against her bosom. Instead, she held her hand out to him and he took it. “It's clear why you don’t want your mother in your life,” she said, “But what does your dog have to do with you wanting to be a good godfather to Lily?”
Jason looked at Lily with a strange longing, and replied, “Because for the second time in my life I know what it is to have unconditional love."
And for the first time in Jenny’s life, she wanted to give unconditional love...
Love to a man who would never accept it from her.
CHAPTER FOUR
As Jason had done every night since Jack Bishop showed up on Jenny’s doorstep, he walked down to Jenny’s cabin after the town was asleep to make sure Bishop didn’t try to get to her again. If he did, Jason would welcome him with a gun at his gut. Jenny knew nothing about his nightly vigils and he planned to keep it that way. His routine was to look around the area, listen for the sounds of anyone approaching, and return to his house.
Each night before, he’d found Jenny’s cabin dark and knew all was well. But this particular night, as he descended the long bank of stairs to the hamlet below, he was disturbed to see the glow of a lantern through the curtains in Jenny's cabin, and movement inside. It was almost two in the morning. All of a sudden he heard Jenny’s frantic shouts, followed by Lily’s piercing cries and the sound of something solid striking randomly about. As he raced for the cabin, intending to hurl himself against the locked door, a single gunshot rang out. Then silence. Launching his shoulder at the door, he splintered it off its hinges sending it hanging askew, and rushed into the cabin. Jenny stood barefoot in her night dress, a smoking pistol in her hand, a rat lying dead on the floor at the foot of Lily’s cradle, another in the middle of the room with its head bashed in.
Jenny stood motionless as he took the gun from her hand and set it on the table. She raised shaking hands, buried her face in them and began sobbing. He took her in his arms and held her as she jabbered about horrible rats, and dead babies, and
gnawed throats...
“They were in Lily’s cradle,” she wailed, then burst out crying again.
Jason tightened his arms around her, pulling her against him. “I’ll move you out of here tonight,” he said, taking in the floral scent of her hair while absorbing the warmth of her body through her night dress.
“You’re right, I don’t belong here,” she said in a ragged voice, her body trembling as he held her. She tipped her head back and raised her lips to meet his, and Jason knew if he didn’t move away from her he’d do something foolish.
She was vulnerable and willing. He was primed and ready. And her scantily-clad body nestled in his arms was straining the limits of his willpower.
“Jenny,” he said, “The rats are dead, Lily’s fine and you’ll be moving into my house where there are no rats. So pack what you need for tonight and I’ll get the buggy." He released her, collected both rats by their tails and pitched them past the splintered front door and into the night, then motioned to the men who'd gathered out front to learn what the commotion was all about, to be on their way.
Jenny rushed to the cradle and picked up Lily, whose cries were subsiding, and held her tight, rocking back and forth. After few minutes, Lily was quiet again, and Jenny lowered her into the crib. As Jenny bent over the cradle to tuck the coverlet around Lily, Jason’s gaze followed the coppery braid that curved over Jenny's shoulder and draped across her breast, then moved down her small waist and long shapely legs revealed by the light streaming through her night dress. The sight of her womanly figure and bare white feet made him question the soundness of moving her into his house. She’d brush past him in the hallway. He’d see her breasts when she nursed Lily. He’d pass her bedroom each night, and if only once she left her door ajar and he happened to glance in and see her in her night dress, and she raised those sultry green eyes and looked at him the way she had in the mine, he’d forget his best intentions and do what he’d wanted from the moment he’d kissed her that day.
But in three weeks, eleven brides would occupy the third floor of his house, and their presence would create a buffer between him and Jenny, he told himself pragmatically.
Jenny wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. “Where will you put us?” she asked.
Jason held her wide-eyed gaze. "In my bedroom."
She ran her tongue over her lips, leaving them moist and inviting. Toying with the fringe on her shawl, she asked, “Where will you sleep?”
He turned from the unsettling sight of her, and said, while jimmying the splintered door on its hinges, “There are three other bedrooms on that floor. I'll sleep on a bare mattress tonight.” He shifted the door to cover the opening. “Tomorrow I’ll have my Chinese housekeeper prepare a couple of the rooms for you and Lily." He tapped the door in place and thumped it with the heel of his hand. “That’ll hold. Meanwhile, pack your things. We'll leave by the back door.”
By the time they arrived at Jason’s house, Jenny was so exhausted she put Lily in her cradle, which Jason had placed in one corner of the room, then stretched out on Jason’s bed and promptly fell asleep. Jason knew she’d remember nothing about him lifting her in his arms, tossing back the covers, and placing her beneath them because she never stirred.
Before leaving, he lingered to look at the two of them—Lily in her cradle, two tiny fingers in her mouth, Jenny in his bed, her face at rest, her coppery braid curling over her shoulder—and he felt a thickening in his chest, as if a void, that he’d never known existed in his empty life, had suddenly been filled.
But moving Jenny into his house presented a dilemma that had escaped him until now—the ordinance against cohabitation which would take effect in two days. He’d set it in place in preparation for the arrival of the brides so the town would be an acceptable place for respectable women to live and raise their families. It was his obligation to lead by example. That, and the fact that the preacher was scheduled to arrive to marry all those who intended to stay together. So he had no choice but to move Jenny out, or marry her.
It wouldn’t be a marriage in the strict sense—they’d never share a bed—but one that would allow Jenny to remain in his house as his wife, under his protection, and secure from the likes of Jack Bishop, until Jenny was ready to return to Iowa. Because the marriage would not be consummated, it could be annulled before she left. Convincing Jenny that marrying him was in her best interest, however, was a whole different matter. It was also a dangerous move. It could open doors to a flood of questions that demanded answers he had no intention of giving.
***
Jenny buried her face in the pillow and breathed in the distinctive male scent of Jason Colby: soap and smoke and musk and buckskin. She filled her lungs with the smell of him and wrapped herself in bed linens that had touched his bare skin. She had no desire to leave her warm cocoon. She had not asked him how he’d happened along about the time she’d discovered the rats, but he'd wasted no time splintering the door off its hinges and taking her in his arms. She’d all but swooned in his embrace, never mind that she’d been wearing next to nothing.
Now that she was living under his roof, however, she would guard against yielding to the questionable behavior he aroused in her. She’d leave her bedroom fully clothed, maintain a respectable distance from him, and be meticulous about the privacy cloth when nursing Lily. She couldn’t explain what prompted her to conduct herself as she had when in his company during the past week, other than she was beginning to feel far too secure with him, far too much like his wife. But she wasn’t his wife and never would be. She was the widow of a man who died under dubious circumstances, a man whose body was hauled into town on the back of a horse being led by the man whose bed she lay in, who aroused in her passions she’d never known, and who made her body ache in a way her husband never had.
Lily awakened, and Jenny fetched her and returned to the bed. While Lily nursed, Jenny mulled over the idea of returning to the cabin. The image of the rats in Lily’s cradle, and the horror of firing at a rat just inches from Lily’s crib made her limbs weak and her stomach queasy. But she had to go back and collect their belongings, if only to prove to Jason that she was not the mollycoddled, city-bred woman he thought her to be.
She had just finished dressing when Jason knocked on her door and announced breakfast. She joined him in the dining room for a meal prepared by his cook and housekeeper, Su Ling, who set the food on the table and left. In a small wooden crib box that Jason had placed beside the table, Lily lay on a pad, cooing softly to herself. After disentangling his finger from her little hand, Jason raised himself from his crouched position over the crib box and sat at the end of the table, with Jenny just to his left. “Did you find my bed comfortable?” he asked.
Jenny took a bite of biscuit. “Quite. And you? Did you fare alright?”
Jason nodded. “I slept on a bare mattress in the bedroom next to you. Su Ling’s making up the bed for you now, and the bedroom next to that will be for Lily. I’ll have carpenters put a door between the two rooms this week.”
Jenny stared at him. “You’re having a door put in for me?”
“And Lily.” Jason rubbed his shoulder. “I’d do it myself, but I haven’t recovered from the door I smashed last night.”
Noticing a bruise on his neck above his collar, Jenny pushed his shirt aside, surprised to see a deep gash, and said, “I didn’t realized you’d hurt yourself. You never said anything.” Her hand lingered on his shoulder as she studied the wound.
Jason shrugged. “I had other things on my mind.”
“Like a hysterical woman,” Jenny said lightly, hoping to quell the desire that brooded inside. “When I found rats in Lily's cradle, and you came bursting through my door—" she eyed him, curiously. “What were you doing outside my cabin in the middle of the night?”
“Just out for a walk,” Jason replied.
“At two in the morning?”
He shrugged. “I lost track of the time.”
“I might have shot yo
u,” Jenny said. "I do keep a loaded gun by my bed."
A slow smile touched Jason's lips. “Then I probably would have deserved it."
“This is not something you should take lightly,” Jenny said, irritated with him for his casual disregard for his own safety, and with herself for caring far too much for a man she knew so little about and shouldn’t trust.
“I don’t take it lightly,” Jason said, “but now that you’re here, you can put your gun away and let me take care of things.”
“Like a city-bred woman should,” she clipped.
“Like any woman should," he replied. "Your job is to look after Lily. Mine is to look after the two of you.”
Jenny thrust out her chin. “It is not your job to look after us. You’re not my husband.”
“I could be.”
Jenny looked at him with a start. “What are you talking about?”
Jason took a long slow sip of coffee. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
Jenny stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why would you do that?”
He looked over the rim of his cup. “Why does any man ask a woman to marry him?”
“Usually, because he loves her,” Jenny said, busying herself with the chore of eating, though her mouth felt so dry she didn’t think she could swallow.
“Or, he wants to protect her.”
“You’ve already established that," Jenny said, "but that doesn’t require you to marry me.” She pushed the eggs around her plate with her fork to still her trembling hand.
Jason covered her hand with his to stop her fidgeting. “It does if you’re to remain in my house. The ordinance against cohabitation will soon be in effect. If we’re married, you and Lily can stay here where you’ll be safe from rats and men like Jack Bishop."
Jenny stared at the hand covering hers. She’d had a sample of its touch and it whetted her appetite for more. But the marriage he proposed would not be a true marriage. Still, she felt compelled to ask, “Would you expect the privileges of a husband?”
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