The Last Renegade

by Jo Goodman

“That’s fine except for the part about you going to Ellen’s room. Stay here. With me.”

  Raine spared a rather longing glance at the bed and did not refuse him out of hand. “I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

  “I’m sure it’s not. But it’s what I want, and if you’re being honest, so do you.”

  “You’re not much for sweet talk.”

  “No.”

  “It’s probably just as well. I’d be suspicious.”

  “That was my thinking.”

  She nodded and looked back over her shoulder. “I need to tend the lamps.”

  “Leave them.”

  “Move over.”

  Still holding her wrist, he inched backward. Raine peeled back the covers and slid between cold sheets. She left it to him to decide if he was going to stay on top or join her under them. By the time she settled in, he was ready with his decision. As soon as he released her, Raine held up the blankets so he could slip under. She warmed her bare feet by rubbing them against his legs.

  “Better?” he asked when she was finally still.

  “Yes.” She turned on her side and faced him. Their knees bumped. It felt comfortable rather than awkward. “I don’t know what you thought earlier, but I wasn’t without some understanding of what might happen…you know, afterward.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she could not quite meet his eyes. “Of what did happen.”

  “Afterward.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you ran through here like your hair was on fire.” His fingers sifted through the heavy lock of coppery hair that had fallen forward. “But then, your hair always looks as if it’s about to spontaneously combust.”

  Self-conscious now, Raine swept her hair behind her. She thought he would leave it there, but he reached over her shoulder and drew it back. He wound part of it around his finger. “You know that belongs to me,” she said.

  “Only because it’s still attached to your head. I have it in my mind to cut it free, press it between the pages of a book, and keep it with me always.”

  “And people say you’re not much for sweet talk.” His secretive, sensual smile made her heartbeat falter. It also raised her suspicions. Her eyes narrowed. “What book?”

  “Nat Church and the Raine of Fire.”

  “There’s no such book.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Wait. Is that ‘reign’ as in the Reign of Terror, ‘rein’ as in a leather ribbon, ‘rain’ as in water falling out of the sky, or ‘Raine’ as in Lorraine?”

  He shrugged.

  “Then you admit there’s no such book.”

  “Maybe it’s being written right now.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” she said dryly. “Perhaps you should consider relating your plan to Max McCartney since he figures so prominently in it.”

  Kellen absently wound more of her hair around his finger. “Max McCartney?”

  “The author.”

  “Oh, that Max McCartney. No one ever mentions him.”

  She chuckled. “Did Rabbit and Finn finally convince you that Nat Church is flesh-and-blood real?”

  “Something like that.”

  She took his hand to stop him winding in one direction and gently nudged him to circle the other way. “You were coming back to the bedroom to take care of me, weren’t you?”

  “If I say I was, are you going to level that accusation of decency at me again?”

  “No, I won’t do that.”

  “All right. I was. It seemed the decent thing to do.”

  Smiling, Raine gave him a little poke in the chest. “Did you always suspect that I’d never been with a man?”

  “I suspected that your experience was not the equal of your enthusiasm.”

  “I see.”

  “You had…have…a great deal of enthusiasm.”

  “It would be better if you stopped talking now.”

  He changed the subject instead. “Why didn’t you sleep with your husband, Raine?”

  Her eyes slid away from his as she considered what she might say and whether or not she wanted to say it.

  “Was it really because of his illness?”

  She contemplated the easy lie and did not like the taste of it on her tongue. “No,” she said at last. She met his gaze squarely. “I didn’t sleep with him because he wasn’t my husband. Adam Berry was my brother.”

  Chapter Ten

  Kellen wished he could see her face more clearly. “Your brother,” he repeated. “And Ellen?”

  “She’s my sister,” she said. “And Adam’s. Our half-sister. Her father is Andrew Wilson. Ours was James Berry.”

  “I know that name,” he said. “Andrew Wilson, not James Berry.”

  “I thought you might.”

  He waited for her to help him out with a prompt, but she made him arrive at it on his own. “Coastal Railroad. San Francisco to Seattle. Paper mills and the timber route.”

  “That’s right. He’s a robber baron. One of the lesser ones, to be sure, but rich is merely relative when you’re seated in the company of Leland Stanford and James J. Hill.”

  “What you told me about how you acquired the Pennyroyal, was it true?”

  “Most of it. Adam did win it in a card game, but the stake that I told you that Adam used to get into the game wasn’t parlayed from earlier winnings. He stole it from our stepfather. He used Andrew’s money to win this place and a good deal more besides.”

  “Your stepfather didn’t suspect?”

  “Not until Adam disappeared. Then he became more…” She stopped, considered her words carefully before she continued. “Difficult. Unpredictable. Dark moods, Mama used to call them. When we were growing up, she was always sensitive to the signs that one of those dark moods was coming on. She put herself front and center to protect us.”

  “He hit her?”

  “When he could. When he couldn’t get to Adam. Or me. My father was a drunk, Kellen. Mama knew something about ducking a fist. Adam and I learned the same. When James Berry walked out, Mama thought that life was behind us, and when she met and then married Andrew Wilson, she was certain she had secured peace for all of us. She didn’t understand that dark moods lived in places other than the bottom of a bottle. In Andrew’s case, I’ve always thought that mood slithered out from under a rock. Once Adam left, it was impossible to know when Andrew would strike. Even Ellen, whom he adored and we protected, saw through to the threatening side of his nature.”

  “You were just a child when your mother remarried. You were only five years older than Ellen. How did you know so much?”

  “Don’t children always know? Look at Rabbit and Finn. Adam had six years on me and ten on Ellen. Cautious, quiet Adam. He never caused a stir, and he always paid attention. I was eight when he promised that he would take me out of that house, and I was eighteen when he made good on it.”

  “You took Ellen with you.”

  “Of course. There was an outbreak of influenza not long after Adam left. It would have killed him if he hadn’t gone when he did. I would have joined him sooner—that was the plan—but I stayed to nurse Mama. She died. It was her wish that Ellen go with me. She didn’t know where Adam was, and it was better that way, so she died without knowing where we were going and without being able to tell her husband.”

  “Wilson never found you?”

  “I’m not sure he ever cared enough to look.”

  “Your brother stole from him. And the daughter you said he adored left him. I’d think that pride would make him want to do something.”

  “Well, if he found us, he knows by now that I’m the only one left. I don’t matter.”

  “To him. You don’t matter to him.” It seemed important that he make that distinction. “Why did you and Adam agree on the pretense of marriage?”

  “Several reasons. We had talked about it before he left. He knew he was dying, and he wanted to be sure I could inherit. The laws in Wyoming supported it, but it seemed there would be no question if we were married. People made a
ssumptions that we never corrected. It became fact because folks believed it was fact, not because we told them it was. The first time I introduced myself as Mrs. Berry was when I met Eli Burdick. He hadn’t been to town since my arrival, so he didn’t immediately connect me to Adam. He thought I was a guest in the hotel, and he put himself directly in my path. It did not take me long to realize that my marriage to Adam was a fraud I needed to sustain.”

  “And that was enough to keep Eli at bay?”

  “Often, yes. He said things, of course, but never when he could be overheard. It’s a pretty big sin in these parts to take another man’s wife. I told you that his mother ran off. Eli’s oddly honorable about some things.”

  Kellen stopped twisting Raine’s hair and watched it curl on its own when he released it. “What about after Adam was killed? What did Eli do then?”

  “You saw him. Heard him. It’s always the same.”

  “Has he ever asked you to marry him?”

  She nodded. “The first time was just after I buried Adam. He asks me from time to time even now, but I can’t imagine what he would do if I ever said yes. Uriah would never approve. Eli knows that. Isaac. The trial. No, Uriah would not permit it.”

  “I’m going to tell Eli that you’re my wife the next time I see him.” He put out a hand to keep Raine from bolting out of bed. She started so sharply that she kicked him. He grunted in surprise.

  “I’m sorry. No. I’m not.” She kicked him again.

  Kellen got his hands under the covers and caught her just below the knees. He managed to keep her from striking him a third time. “I’m not your enemy.”

  “No, you’re the man I hired to help us. You can’t do it if Eli shoots you first.”

  “He’s not going to shoot me. He’s probably not going to draw on me unless it’s for show.”

  “What do you mean, unless it’s for show?”

  “I mean that Eli might not be as smitten with you as everyone—including you—thinks he is.”

  “But he—” Her brow furrowed. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I think he’s smitten with me.”

  Raine’s eyes widened as her eyebrows lifted.

  Kellen let go of her legs. Except for an occasional blink, she wasn’t moving. “You know about men like that?” he asked.

  “Adam told me,” she whispered. “I thought he was making it up.”

  “He wasn’t. Did it come up during a conversation about Eli?”

  “I don’t remember. It was so long ago. Maybe even before we came here.”

  “It’s not important. I wondered if Adam might have suspected.”

  “He certainly never hinted at it. It really doesn’t make any sense. Why would Eli propose?”

  “Why wouldn’t he? It’s what is expected. He’s a man. Men propose.”

  “What about the things he says to me? Why would he make so many indecent remarks and behave so crudely?”

  “Perhaps so you will keep him at arm’s length. Has he ever paid as much attention to anyone else?”

  “I’m not sure. Not since I’ve been here, but before I came, there must have been someone. I seem to recall Mrs. Sterling saying something about one of Mrs. Garvin’s daughters. I remember wishing that Eli would make time for her again.” Her lower lip thrust forward as she blew out a breath. Strands of hair fluttered against her forehead. “If you’re right, what does it mean? Is Eli going to gun me down for stealing you away?”

  Kellen liked that he couldn’t always tell how serious she was. “I don’t think it will come to that, but if it will help, you can carry my derringer.”

  “No, thank you.” Raine plumped the pillow under her head and rolled onto her back. “Maybe he won’t be coming into town anytime soon.”

  “That probably doesn’t matter. I’ve agreed to go out to the ranch on John Paul Jones’s behalf.”

  “About the government survey?”

  “Yes, and there’s also the matter of my story for the World.”

  She sighed. “That story again. You’re very dedicated to a job you don’t have.”

  “It’s part of being dedicated to the job I do have.”

  “Are you?” she asked. “Dedicated to it, I mean. I can never tell what you’re doing.”

  “Good. It’s not supposed to be obvious.”

  “But shouldn’t I know something?”

  “You know that Eli Burdick likes me more than he likes you. That’s something, and I learned it in a fairly short time. You’ve been here six years.”

  “You only think it’s true that he’s sweet on you. You don’t know that it is.”

  Kellen remained confident of his answer. “I know,” he said. “And it’s probably better if you don’t believe me. I don’t want you to do anything that would draw his attention to your suspicions. That’s when he would be dangerous. This is a secret he needs to keep.”

  “Then I should allow him to treat me as disrespectfully as he always has?”

  “No. You should answer him just as you do now. Snap at him. Show your displeasure. It’s what he wants.” Kellen watched Raine. She fell silent, thinking it over. He hoped he would not regret telling her. He kept his head propped on his elbow, waiting her out.

  “Why did Eli take part in taunting Isaac to the point of practically daring him to rape Ellen?” she asked. “Why did he save me from Clay?”

  “I’m not saying I understand it myself, but I imagine Eli’s always trying to figure what’s expected of him. Sometimes he falls in with Clay to keep the peace and protect himself from scrutiny, and sometimes, as when he interfered to get you away from Clay, he’s able to act as if he has some sense. Remember, even when he moved to protect you, he made a claim on you. He established again that you’re his woman.”

  “I remember.” She tilted her head to the side and looked at him. “You have to admit it’s confusing.”

  “Certainly.”

  She nodded and returned to staring at the ceiling. “This is a little confusing as well.”

  “This?”

  “Being with you after being with you. Sharing my bed.”

  “Do you want me to go back to the other room? Tell me where I can find another set of sheets, and I’ll make up the bed.”

  “No, I want you to stay.” She added quickly, “Unless you’d rather leave.”

  “I’d rather stay.” He found her hand under the covers and threaded his fingers through hers. “What’s confusing?”

  “Well, you still work for me for one thing.”

  “You could fire me.”

  “And give up even the illusion of control? No, I don’t think I want to do that.”

  Kellen chuckled deeply. “What is another thing?”

  “You are so at ease with the arrangement.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “I feel as if I’m lying on a bed of nails.”

  “Confusing and uncomfortable. Anything else?”

  “This is my second marriage without an exchange of vows.”

  “I don’t suppose that having a certificate this time is sufficient consolation.”

  “I don’t have a certificate yet. And no, it won’t be.”

  “Is there a particular promise you’d like me to make?”

  “I’m not sure I know them.”

  “To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part. And hereto I pledge thee my troth.”

  Raine stared at him, open-mouthed. A few seconds passed before she regained the power of speech.

  “‘Peculiar’ doesn’t begin to do you justice.”

  “My grandfather is a Lutheran pastor. My mother’s father. My grandfather on my father’s side was an academic like my father.”

  “I’m not sure the pedigree explains it.” She simply shook her head when he offered a helpless shrug. “About the vows, I think if you promise that you’ll be here for better or for worse, that
will do.”

  “That more or less describes the terms of my employment.”

  “I know.”

  “Not richer or poorer?”

  “I’m richer. You’re poorer. If you just promise the other, that will be enough.”

  “All right. I promise.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “I promise that I’ll be at your side for better, for worse, for at least as long as I think you need me.”

  She frowned slightly. “Not for as long as I think I need you?”

  “No. I don’t trust you.”

  “Are you trying to be insulting or is it an unfortunate consequence of your overwhelming arrogance? Don’t answer that. I’ll work it out on my own. Are you concerned that I’ll lie and say I need you just to keep you around?”

  “The opposite.”

  “You think I’ll send you packing too soon?”

  “You might try.”

  “If I do, it’s because you’ve provoked me past reason.”

  “I could do that. I’ve been told I can provoke a saint to sin.”

  “Your mother said that?”

  “And my father. Usually just before sending me outside to fetch a willow switch.”

  She sighed heavily, and the sigh became a yawn. “You wear me out.” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and partially stifled the next one.

  Kellen moved closer. “For warmth,” he said. He slipped an arm around Raine’s waist, but he didn’t pull her toward him. She found that cradle herself, turning on her side and fitting her back against his chest, her bottom against his groin. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

  In moments she did.

  Heavy footfalls on the stairs woke Kellen. Raine stirred beside him but didn’t open her eyes. He eased an arm out from under her, clenched and unclenched his tingling fingers, and carefully moved to the other side of the bed. He reached the door quickly but not in time to stop a fist from beating hard against it.

  He unlocked the door, yanked it open, and squared off on the threshold.

  Walt took a startled step backward, his fist still raised.

  “Close your jaw, Walt,” Kellen said. “You’ll catch flies in that trap.”

  “What’re you doin’ here, Mr. Coltrane? Is it Mrs. Berry? Is she all right?”