Copper Fire

by Fayrene Preston

  “So they decided to kidnap you,” Sloan said, still having trouble with the logic of the situation.

  “Because they had worked for the family, however short a period of time that was, they had gotten some idea of our financial situation. When they heard my name, they thought they could make some easy money. I can handle them, of course. My own concern in all this has been Brianne. I knew she’d be worried, and I also knew she’d set out to look for me on her own.”

  “She did both of those things.”

  Patrick nodded, then held out his hand. “I want to thank you for helping her.”

  Sloan took his hand but didn’t say anything.

  “Since I’m feeling better, I had planned on walking back to town tomorrow, but now I’d appreciate it if you would tell Brianne that I’m fine, and I’ll see her soon.”

  “You’re going to stay here?”

  “Until the horses come back. I can’t take the chance that my grandfather and my uncles will get hold of these three. I have to protect them.”

  “What is it with you Delaneys? You seem to have an uncontrollable urge to help people.”

  “Maybe we understand the underdog.”

  Irritated, Sloan jabbed his index finger at Patrick. “And maybe you trust too easily.”

  “Now, that we don’t.” Patrick recalled Brianne’s initial distrust of Sloan and wondered if that had changed. After all, the man was helping her. Then he remembered his advice to her to avoid scratching him. Somehow he doubted that she had paid any heed. “Rest assured, no one takes advantage of us. We learned at an early age the difference between sheep and wolves. If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have survived.” He let that sink in, then asked, “What’s Brianne been up to anyway?”

  Sloan shook his head. “She seems to collect people.”

  “Ah.” Patrick needed no further explanation. “Anyway, when the horses return, we’ll come back into town.”

  Because Sloan’s mind immediately conjured up a picture of the Grimes brothers in the Duke Hotel, his next words were weighted with sarcasm. “Mrs. Potter is going to be thrilled.”

  Inside Nilsen’s Emporium, the aromas of newly dyed cloth and the leather of boots, belts, and bridles mingled with the scents of tea and spices bundled in small burlap bags. Coffee beans, flour, and sugar nearly overflowed from their barrels. Off to one side, two kegs held dark, rich molasses; another held pickles.

  On one long wall an assortment of ready-made clothes hung from a rack. Hams, sausages, and an array of cooking pots hung from hooks imbedded into the ceiling. In the center of the store, stood an unlit potbellied stove with chairs arranged around it.

  Anna was sitting in one of the chairs holding the newborn baby daughter of Rebecca Hunter. “She’s just adorable, Rebecca. You and Keith must be so proud.”

  “We try not to let it show, but yes, we are. Keith wanted a son, but when he saw little Deborah he changed fast. She immediately became his pride and joy. Besides, I figure next time he’ll get his boy.”

  Anna gently smiled at the baby girl in her arms. She could only imagine the happiness of a husband and wife, very much in love, creating a new life. She tried to push back the envy that insisted on creeping into her mind, but failed. She didn’t believe that her life could ever work out so she would know the sort of happiness Rebecca felt. And that sense of loss was a pain that throbbed constantly deep within her.

  Handing the baby back to her mother, Anna caught the sound of an old Swedish folksong that her father was humming in the back room as he moved about, checking the new shipment of goods that had just arrived. The sound soothed her pain. His contentment and peace were worth any price.

  “I must be going,” Rebecca said. “This is the first time I’ve been out since Deborah was born. I still tire easily.”

  “I understand. What about your order?”

  “Keith will be in later on to pick it up.” Rebecca turned toward the door, then let out a loud gasp.

  The doorway was being blocked by a half-naked, barefoot giant who held a young woman in his arms.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Brianne said, hastening to reassure the women.

  Anna took a few steps forward. “Are you all right, Miss Delaney?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Move, you big oaf!” Henrietta ordered from behind Kamanahua, treating him much as she would one of her students. “Move! I need to see if there are some chairs so we can make Brianne comfortable.”

  Kamanahua did as he was bid and lumbered into the store. Behind him came Henrietta, then Phineas.

  “Poor child, she’s sprained her ankle and she’s not supposed to walk on it for a few days,” Henrietta explained to the two open-mouthed women as she began rearranging the chairs.

  “Isn’t it lucky I have Kam?” Brianne asked sunnily from her perch in his mammoth arms.

  “Brianne is a goddess,” Kamanahua said. “I serve her. She protects me.”

  “There.” Henrietta smiled with satisfaction at the two chairs she had arranged, seat to seat. “Put her down here, Kam, and mind, be careful now. That’s right, and put her foot up on the second chair. Good, that’s perfect.”

  “Would you like a pillow for your ankle, Miss Delaney?” Anna asked, watching with understanding as Rebecca Hunter skirted the group and headed for the door, all the while holding her baby tightly to her breast.

  “That would be nice, and please, call me Brianne. It looks like I’ll be in Chango for a while, so we’ll have the opportunity to become friends.”

  When Anna came back with the pillow and had situated it under her ankle, Brianne said, “Anna, I’d like to introduce my friends to you. This is Miss Henrietta Jones, a schoolteacher on her way back east.”

  “That's right, Jones!” Henrietta's eyes held the militant gleam that seemed to appear whenever she thought of the man she had left unconscious in a San Francisco hotel room. “And how do you do?”

  “And this is Mr. Phineas Tooley, a patented medicine salesman.”

  Phineas stepped up and took Anna’s limp hand. “Charmed, dear lady, I’m sure. I can’t help but notice that your shelves are remarkably bare of any patented medicines. Perhaps later you would have a moment for me to tell you of my Tooley's Miracle Restorative. It is guaranteed to cure sixty different disorders, including pleurisy, inflammation of the lungs, female debility, and other irregularities.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Anna managed, “but our doctor here in town sells all the patented medicines.”

  “I see.” Phineas rubbed his chin. “Well, then perhaps you could tell me if there’ve been any strangers in town of late.”

  Humor warmed Anna’s eyes. “There have been a lot of strangers since Miss Delaney came to town.”

  Brianne smiled, while noting the fact that she must remember to ask Phineas to tell her the rest of his story. “You’re to call me Brianne, remember? Now I have just one more person to introduce.” She pointed to Kamanahua, who had taken up position beside her, his bare feet solidly planted on the plank floor, his arms crossed over his massive chest. “This is Kam. He’s a royal Hawaiian prince, isn’t that interesting?”

  “Very,” Anna said, her dimples showing.

  “Kam will need several shirts,” Brianne went on.

  “Evil vapors cannot escape if you furnish your body with too many clothes,” Kamanahua announced.

  Brianne stretched around and looked up at her self- appointed bodyguard. “Believe me, I would not let you wear something that wouldn’t allow evil vapors to escape.”

  Anna cleared her throat. “I’m afraid we have nothing that will fit Kam, but I can give you the name of a good dressmaker in town. If he would like, Kam can pick out some material. It's over there.” She pointed toward the bolts of cloth stacked on a table.

  “I will not depart Brianne,” Kamanahua said stubbornly.

  “We’ll pick it out later,” Brianne decided, and turned to Henrietta. “Have you made out your list?”

  “Yes.”
The older woman pulled out a small sheet of paper from her pocket. “I’ll need a comb and a brush. Perhaps a skirt and a blouse, something serviceable.” She raised her eyes from the list and let her gaze run appraisingly over the rack of ready-made clothes. She nodded, satisfied. “It looks as though you have a nice assortment.”

  “Choose several skirts and blouses, Henrietta. I insist. And you’ll want some lotion, perhaps a nice bottle of rosewater.”

  Henrietta’s stern features softened. “You are so good, Brianne.” She leaned down and whispered. “What about the more delicate of ladies apparel? You know … ”

  Brianne smiled. “Just tell Anna what you need.”

  At that moment a short man who showed the beginnings of a paunch came bustling out of the back room. What greeted his sight brought him up short. “My, my, vhat have ve here?”

  Anna turned. “Papa, this is Miss Brianne Delaney. She and her friends are doing a little shopping this afternoon. Miss Delaney, Miss Jones, Mr. Tooley, Kam, this is my father, Mr. Nilsen.”

  Faced with the somewhat unusual assemblage, Lars Nilsen rubbed his hands together. “Vell, vell … ”

  “How nice that your business is doing so well, Mr. Nilsen. I couldn’t be more delighted.”

  Everyone swiveled to see the newcomer who had spoken.

  He was a tall man and extremely well-dressed, Brianne noted. With his light brown hair, pale gray eyes, and pleasant smile, he was very good-looking. But Brianne could feel the hair at the back of her neck prickling a warning.

  Anna cleared her throat. Brianne glanced at her, and saw that a cool reserve seemed to have descended over the beautiful woman’s manner.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. McCord,” Anna said. “Was your trip to Washington a pleasant one?”

  He swept his hat off. “Yes, it was. Thank you, Miss Nilsen. Mr. Nilsen.” He nodded to Anna’s father. “I stopped by to see if my special blend of tobacco came in while I was gone.”

  “Papa?”

  Mr. Nilsen threw his daughter a disgruntled look. “Ya. It’s in the back, Mr. McCord. I’ll get it.”

  “I’m Wes McCord,” the man said, sending a charm- ing smile around the room, passing over Henrietta and Phineas, lingering for a moment on Kamanahua, and finally settling on Brianne. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  Reluctantly, it seemed to Brianne, Anna performed the introductions. “This is Miss Delaney, Miss Jones, Mr. Tooley, and Kam.”

  Wes McCord looked with interest at the new people. “Are you planning to settle here in Chango?”

  “No,” Brianne answered for herself and her friends. She still wasn’t sure what it was about the man that bothered her, but Malvina had drilled manners into her, so she tried to be pleasant. “What was intended to be a brief visit has been extended.”

  “How lucky for Chango,” Wes murmured.

  “Here’s your tobacco, Mr. McCord. Vill you be needing any more of the fixings?”

  “I don't think so. Not today, at any rate.” He scooped the pouch off the counter. “Can you add this to my account please, Mr. Nilsen?”

  Anna’s father nodded brusquely. “Ya.”

  Wes’s smile encompassed everyone in the store. “Good day.”

  There was silence until he left, then Anna’s father exploded. “I do not like that man!”

  “Now, Papa,” Anna soothed. “You mustn’t say things like that.”

  “I know that he is supposed to be doing a lot for this town, but … he is a bad man!”

  Anna's troubled gaze went to the wide front window through which she could see Wesley McCord crossing the street to the other side. “He may be a bad man, Papa, but there’s nothing we can do about it. He's too powerful.”

  “Hmph!”

  “Now, Papa, I don’t want you to distress yourself. Why don’t you go upstairs and have a nice cup of tea? I’ll wait on Miss Delaney and her friends.”

  Nodding his agreement, Mr. Nilsen shuffled out.

  Anna turned to Brianne, a bright smile fixed on her face. “Now, where were we?”

  Chapter 9

  Clouds obscured the moon, making the path Anna was on so dark she could barely see beyond her next step. But she needed no lamp to guide her way. She knew by heart every inch of the path that ran behind the town, since she made this same trek twice a week.

  When she reached the edge of the town, she drew her shawl closer around her shoulders and, as was her habit, paused to look behind her. There was no one to observe her, but she had to be sure.

  Turning back, she gazed in front of her and saw it – the house that was her destination. Although she was still some distance away, she could see a light glowing behind drawn shades in two rooms, one on the lower floor, one on the upper. The line of her mouth tightened and she continued on.

  Once at the house, she didn’t hesitate. She climbed the broad steps to the porch, grasped the brass knob, and opened the door. Inside, her steps led her unerringly down a long entrace hall to the first door on her right. Taking a deep breath, she stepped across the threshold.

  Wesley McCord was sitting in a large walnut arm- chair, a drink in his hand. His head rested against the blue velvet upholstered back, his gray eyes were half closed.

  Anna’s hands curled into tight fists with such force, her nails cut into her palms. “I was hoping you wouldn’t come back from your trip to Washington.”

  Setting the drink aside, he stood, then crossed the room to her. He lifted a finger and touched it gently to her cheek. “I know,” he murmured with a smile, and took her into his arms. “I know.”

  Minutes later they were upstairs in Wes’s bed, naked, and he was moving in and out of Anna, slowly, with great power, and very sure skill.

  As always, the lamp beside the bed remained lit. He enjoyed the sight of her long golden hair fanned out over the pillow, and he delighted in seeing her face as his throbbing shaft filled her, eased out of her, then filled her again.

  Passion seemed to increase her beauty, making it appear as if she were illuminated from the inside out. He did that to her, he thought with satisfaction. He could make her cry out with pleasure – even though it was against her will.

  Supporting his weight on his elbows, he cradled her face between his hands. “Open your eyes, Anna, my sweet, and tell me how you wished someone had killed me before I could return to you.”

  Entering, withdrawing, entering, withdrawing – his leisurely, demanding strokes were unceasing and sanity-destroying, Anna thought with despair and deep, deep hunger. Languidly her lids lifted, showing him blue eyes whose color had been deepened and glazed by a potent desire. “I did,” she whispered. “I wished you dead.”

  He chuckled and, at the same time, surged high into her. An involuntary moan came from deep in her throat, making him smile.

  “Of all my enemies,” he said, his voice soft and thick, “I like you the best.”

  “I wouldn’t… be here if” – a soft gasp escaped her lips – “if you weren't blackmailing me.”

  Feeling her velvet tightness close around him once again, he shuddered. God, how he had missed this! There was nothing like this feeling anywhere else on earth. “Don’t expect me to apologize, Anna. I won’t.”

  He nibbled at the fullness of her lower lip, then slid his tongue into the waiting warmth of her mouth. Anna accepted his tongue just as her body accepted his pulsing male hardness every time he pressed into her. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t do anything else. The delicate tissue that sheathed him so accommodatingly felt as if it were being seared with each thrust of his fullness. She tossed her head from side to side in a fever of helpless desire. “This is diabolical! I hate how you make me feel!”

  “Maybe afterward you do, but not now, not while I’m doing this.” He groaned, deeply penetrating her, then rotated his hips.

  She gave a little cry at the exquisite ripples of pleasure that mounted steadily. Her mind fogged. Unable to help herself, she dug her heels into the bed and arched her
hips upward.

  “Convince yourself, Anna, that right at this moment you hate this feeling.” He gave one hard thrust, reaching to her core, making her burn brilliant and hot.

  A cry broke free of her lips. “Oh, God, Wesley! Again!”

  But he moderated his movements. Sweat broke out over his body as he kept his pace slow and careful, taking both of them to peak after peak, yet always making sure that they slid back down before they could crest. It was a wonderful kind of torment. He had had to do without her for weeks. Now that she was under him, he refused to hurry. Besides, he loved it when she writhed beneath him, wild and out of control. Such a lady at the store during the day; such a wanton in his bed at night.

  Stroking his fingers across her damp brow, he soothed her. “My sweet Anna … sweet Anna … so beautiful… so pure.”

  Just for a moment her mind cleared. “Pure! You took my virginity!”

  Possessiveness flared in his eyes. “And God, you were good! You are good. Wet! Hot! Tight!” He couldn’t hold out much longer.

  Anna felt him pull out of her and hover. Her hands reached for his hips and drew him forcefully back into her. She could have withstood violence, but never the careful, exquisite way he went about making love to her. He had studied her body and learned her so well.

  “Easy, baby, easy,” he urged. “Wait just a little bit longer.”

  Nails dug into his back. “Wesley, I can’t!”

  “Yes, you can, my Anna,” he crooned, reveling in her desperate need of him, while savoring his com- mand over her at this moment. He slid a shaking hand down to cup her small, rounded breast, and it strained into his palm. “You can wait, because you know how good this is, and because you’ve missed our lovemaking as much as I have.”

  “I haven’t missed it, and I don’t want to wait. I want it now!” she cried. “I can’t stand it!”

  “Shhh. Soon. Soon. I can’t end it yet. This is too damned much like paradise! Can you imagine how you feel to me? It’s as if your small hand, gloved in a dark, plushly textured material is gripping me tightly.” He showered urgent kisses over her face and throat, but always kept moving in and out of her. If someone had walked through the door with a gun and held it to his head, he still couldn’t have left her.