Colorado Dreams (Rocky Mountain Romances Book 7)

by Heather Horrocks

  Joseph was kissing her! And she was kissing him back.

  Her comparison of just a few moments ago proved true. His lips were firm, yet yielding; it was nothing like the revolting kiss from Mr. Lloyd. This one lit up her world and made her knees weak. He smelled of sunshine and tasted faintly of mint, and she didn’t want it to end.

  When they pulled apart moments later, he touched her cheek and that cocky smile was back, though his eyes were soft. “I should be sorry — but I’m not.”

  She smiled back at him, daring him to try and scare her. “Neither am I.”

  He grinned and kissed her again. “But if we don’t go upstairs and your brother comes looking for us, we will both be very sorry.”

  She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

  He opened the door and followed her up the stairs, and she marveled at how different he was from every other male figure in her life, except for Robert, of course.

  He was patient, a characteristic that she very much appreciated after growing up with her father. Even as jealous as he’d been, he hadn’t raised his voice with her nor tried to force his will upon her — nor punched Mr. Vickers.

  He’d kissed her, but he hadn’t forced her. Oh no, he definitely hadn’t forced her.

  Butterflies exploded in her belly at the memory of his lips on hers, and she found she wanted Joseph to court her.

  She Might Be Able to Save It

  THREE WOMEN CAME INTO THE store the next morning. Women! Two brunettes and a redhead.

  They were a welcome sight for Emily’s eyes — right up until the moment they spotted Joseph and started flirting with him!

  He seemed surprised but pleased, the big, stupid oaf. Trust a man not to realize what was going on.

  The redhead laughed and touched his arm, and Emily wanted to belt her one. Don’t touch him — he’s mine! But he wasn’t hers. So they’d shared a couple of kisses — very nice, toe-tingling kisses — but what did that mean, really? Nothing. But they had meant something to her!

  And when the redhead laid her hand on his arm, the sound of her tinkling laugh made Emily grit her teeth and remind herself that she couldn’t clobber the customers.

  Finally they left, after what seemed like an eternity. They had purchased some of the scarves Emily had brought in, though.

  After they walked out, Joseph grinned at her. “You were right. We can have women coming in here to share their money with us.”

  “Yes. Isn’t it just great?” she said, unclenching her jaw and her fists. So silly of her to feel this way. What was she thinking?

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you jealous?”

  He moved closer to her. She could feel her face flush warm, but she said, “Of course not. That’s preposterous.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She looked up into his eyes and huffed out a breath. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Of course I was jealous. They were pawing you like you were merchandise and they were definitely interested in buying.”

  He smiled and touched her hand. “Emily, I want to court you, not those silly women.”

  Immediately, she felt relief. “Good.”

  A woman walked by outside, studied the door, and came in. Emily told Joseph, “Here’s another one.”

  He shook his head. “This is a widow with little kids.” He smiled at the woman. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Campbell. How are you this fine day?”

  “I’m good, Mr. Keeton. And you must be Miss Maxwell.” The woman put out her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Emily shook her hand. “I’m always glad to meet good townsfolk.”

  Mrs. Campbell was in her late thirties and looked tired.

  “How are the boys?” Joseph asked.

  “Growing like weeds. They need their father, but since he passed on, their grandfather does what he can.”

  “What can we help you find today?” he asked.

  Mrs. Campbell said, “I heard you are starting to carry fabric.”

  “We are and that’s my department,” Emily said. “I’ll show you.”

  She led the woman to the corner with the women’s supplies. Mrs. Campbell fingered a hair bow longingly, but then put it back, giving Emily a wispy smile. “I can’t afford fineries, but a girl can still dream. I do need fabric for a dress.”

  She looked through the small selection and pulled out a pretty yellow. “I’d like five yards of this, please.”

  Emily cut the fabric and folded it.

  Mrs. Campbell sighed. “I used to be able to afford fine dresses.”

  “Until your husband died?”

  The woman shook her head. “Until the bank stole my jewels.”

  Emily stifled a gasp. Was this the woman Mr. Vickers had told her about? The one who’d claimed to have lost her jewelry?

  Not sure what to believe, Emily asked, “How did they do that?”

  “I had them in a safety deposit box. All of the jewels and money my husband had left us, except for a small amount I kept at home. I figured they’d be safer in the bank. But they weren’t. When I went back to take some out for expenses, I was given the box — but it was empty. I told them what I’d had in the box, but they denied having anything to do with it, and claimed I was lying. They practically ruined my reputation in this town and I still get looked at by some as a thief, as though I was trying to steal from the bank, when what happened was they stole from me.”

  Mr. Vickers’ account was in direct opposition to Mrs. Campbell’s — and Emily realized, to her shock and horror, that she believed this woman. Did that mean Mr. Vickers had lied to her about the jewels? “Can’t you hire an attorney to sue them for the value?”

  “I talked to one, but he told me that I had no proof that I’d ever put anything into the box, so he couldn’t do anything for me.”

  “That’s exceedingly unfair.”

  The woman shrugged and smiled. “Thank you for thinking so. I have few enough allies. Mr. Vickers is a powerful man in town.”

  Joseph said, “That he is.”

  Emily wished she could do something to help the woman, but didn’t know what it would be. So she waited on her, accepted her cash, and wished her a good day. “Wait,” she said, then pulled out the bow the woman had admired and handed it to her. “Thank you for your business, Mrs. Campbell. I hope to see you in here again.”

  The woman gasped and her eyes grew moist. “Thank you so much, Miss Maxwell. You will.”

  After she left the store, Emily turned on Joseph. “Was that true? Did Mr. Vickers keep her jewelry and cash?”

  Joseph shrugged. “It’s not the first story I’ve heard of people losing out to him. He likes evicting people, too.”

  The bell above the door tinkled and a man pushed into the shop. He was dressed in a suit and was about six feet tall, with a bushy beard. “I’m looking for a Miss Emily Maxwell.”

  She exchanged a glance with Joseph and said, “I am she.”

  The man closed the gap between them until there was just the counter between them. “Miss Maxwell, I am Frederick Nelson and I work for the Pinkerton Agency.” A shiver ran through Emily. A Pinkerton agent? He could only have come from her father, and that was bad news.

  “I was hired by your father to find you and offer you a deal. He, of course, wants you to return to New York. He misses you. He is offering you a business proposition.”

  Her father, the consummate business tycoon, considered her an asset. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said.

  “It’s very generous. Your father is offering to let you keep anything currently in your possession, plus he will give you five thousand dollars in cash, and you can have a carriage of your own. All you have to do is return. Your father said it will be your decision whether or not you marry Mr. Lloyd. He will not force you.”

  All she had to do was sell her soul, more like. “Mr. Nelson, I fear you have come a far distance for naught. I will not return.”

  Joseph stepped closer to her
, standing in a way to show Mr. Nelson that she was not alone. “You heard the lady. She’s not interested.”

  Mr. Nelson narrowed his eyes, but smiled at the same time. “I will give you a day to think it over, and will return to see if you change your mind. Hopefully we can come to a resolution that pleases us both.”

  The door opened and Robert and Henry entered the store.

  Mr. Nelson tipped his hat. “Good day, Miss Maxwell. I will visit you again.”

  Joseph had stepped between Emily and the Pinkerton agent, determined to protect her.

  He could sense her anxiety, her fear, and a fierce protectiveness surged up from deep inside him.

  Robert turned to look after the man and turned back. “What’s going on?”

  Emily began to relay what the agent had told her, and Joseph noticed that her hands were trembling. After she told him and Henry about the encounter and the “deal,” she said, “I’m not going back to Father, but he said I could decide when I got there if I married Mr. Lloyd or not.”

  Robert took her hands and, after taking a moment to collect himself, looked directly into her eyes. “Emily, I never told you why I left home.”

  She stilled. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Your father paid me off to leave.”

  She gasped. “He said you’d decided you wanted adventure.”

  “I did — after he gave me a lump sum of cash and told me to get out. He said that he didn’t want me to come back home, and that if I stayed away, he’d send more money every three months.” Robert put an arm around Emily’s shoulder and tipped her chin up so that she was looking directly at him. “The important thing for you to know is that he didn’t keep his word. He never sent so much as a penny to me. When you go back home, he won’t allow you to choose. He will have you married to Mr. Lloyd before nightfall.”

  “That’s why I’ll stay here, where you and Joseph and Henry will protect me.”

  Joseph exchanged a look with Robert and said, “Yes, we will.”

  Robert said, “Mrs. Holderman found me in town and gave me a letter for you that had been addressed to her boarding house.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out an envelope. The name jumped out at her. “It’s from Mrs. Oaks.”

  “The housekeeper?” Robert asked.

  Emily nodded as she slid open the envelope and pulled out the letter. “She has been like a second mother to me, Robert.”

  “She was to me, as well. I’ve missed her.”

  “She also helped me escape. She got her brother to take me safely to the train station and help me get a ticket and board the train.”

  She began reading aloud: Dearest Emily, I hope you are safely with Robert now. Please give him my love. I have just learned that Mr. Lloyd has given your father an ultimatum. If you are not back by May 31st, the wedding is off, as is the business proposition. If you can manage to stay away until then, at least Mr. Lloyd will not be your problem. I wish you all the best, and will keep you posted with anything pertinent that I learn. Love, Mrs. Oaks.

  She figured in her head. “That’s two weeks away. If you gentlemen will keep me safe for another two weeks, I can be free of Mr. Lloyd.”

  That filled Joseph with hope and determination. He would keep his beautiful, golden-haired princess safe, no matter what it cost him.

  Emily awoke to a pounding on the bedroom door — and then it was flung open. Robert was there. “Emily, wake up! There’s a fire — we have to get out of the building!”

  She was instantly awake, adrenaline shooting through her body. She snatched up her chemise — the one with the jewels sewn inside — and yanked it over her head, followed by her robe, slipped her feet into her shoes, and ran for the door with the cat in her arms.

  The men were rushing downstairs.

  She could see no flames. Were they in the store?

  Robert urged her on. “Come on, Emily, don’t stop. Run before the fire comes upstairs.”

  She ran down the stairs with Lily. At the bottom of the steps, she could see flames in the shop.

  She ran out through the smoke, skirting the area on the left that was engulfed in flames, and made her way out the door. Once outside, she set down Lily and admonished her, “Stay outside!”

  On the street, townsfolk were running to the rescue carrying buckets. A horse-drawn fire engine was halfway up the block, men hanging from its sides.

  She turned to see that the flames had jumped to the corner with her fabrics — but it was still small. She might be able to save it — if she acted quickly.

  In Her Chemise and Not the Bank

  EMILY RACED INSIDE, CHOKING ON the smoke. Men were practically throwing buckets of water along the chain of men that had formed as if by magic.

  She pulled out the bolt of fabric that was burning and threw it on the floor, then stamped out the flames with her shoes. She pulled out the other bolts of fabric and moved them farther away from the fire, toward the front.

  Flames leapt to a fireman’s shirt, and she grabbed some heavy gray wool fabric, yanked some free, and wrapped it around him. He turned a surprised face to her, then seeing what she was doing, his eyes widened. When she pulled the wool away, the fire was extinguished. “Thank you,” he shouted over the roar, not pausing in his efforts to douse the flames.

  Then there was water in the air.

  The fire engine had arrived.

  She slipped out the door, still carrying the wool fabric in her hand, and dragging the bolt behind her. She must be in shock, for she didn’t even realize she was still gripping them until she was out the door.

  When Lily meowed, she picked up the cat and cuddled her, watching the scene before her as though it were a scene from Dante’s Inferno.

  The night was cloudless, thank the heavens, so the men could see to work. They looked like imps in the smoke and flames.

  Luckily, the flames were growing smaller. The water truck was working!

  Relief flooded through her. The store wouldn’t be lost.

  Joseph found her and grasped her arm, spinning her around so that he could see her. “Are you all right?” He sounded frantic, and his eyes roamed over her, checking for injuries.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “I saw you go back in, you foolish woman. Now that I know you’re safe and unharmed, I’d like to shake you until your teeth rattle for scaring me like that.”

  “Since you were inside the entire time, who is more the fool?”

  “Yes, but I’m a man. You’re a woman.”

  Despite the situation, she gave him a half-smile. “Very astute observation, Mr. Keeton. I’m glad you’ve taken notice. Women happen to be very accomplished creatures. We have brains and opposable thumbs just as you men do.”

  He shook his head, returning her smile. “So I can see. I’ll do my best to avoid underestimating you in the future.” He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and his expression turned serious. “I’m glad you’re safe. When I saw you running back inside…”

  “Are Robert and Henry safe?”

  Before he could answer, a huge cheer went up — the flames were extinguished and Robert and Henry were striding toward them, streaked in ash but safe.

  The doors were propped open to let the building air out, and the men remaining inside began shoving the windows open, as well. Smoke rolled out, but the billows slowed to tendrils after several moments.

  When the last of the men poured out of the door, coughing and choking and covered in soot, one of them found their group. His face was serious. “Someone intentionally set this fire.”

  Emily’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “No one would be so horrible.”

  “There’s a pile of charred clothes and burnt wood on top of a counter, and the flames came from that. I would stake my reputation on it.”

  Joseph explained, “Mr. Wahlborg is in charge of the fire department.”

  “Why would anyone set fire to the store?” she asked, bewildered. Would her father go so far in order
to scare her back home? Surely he wouldn’t risk her life like that. If Robert hadn’t woken her, if the men hadn’t learned there was a fire, they would have all perished tonight.

  She prayed that her father was not so hateful that he would wish for, and indeed perpetuate, her death. She couldn’t believe that. He had his faults and he was controlling, but surely he wasn’t that vindictive.

  But who else could it have been?

  Three hours later, as the sun was just spreading its first rays over the horizon, the four of them sat at their table above the store. Luckily, the smell of smoke was mainly limited to the downstairs portion of the building, but it faintly burned her nose.

  Henry said, “We’re going to have to close part of the store for repairs.”

  Disheartened, Joseph said, “It will need a definite airing out.”

  Emily, ever thinking differently than they did — which always delighted Joseph, said, “Perhaps we could sell things from the sidewalk. Offer items for sale. Miners might not mind the smell of smoke so much if it comes with a discount.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Henry said. “What other ideas do we have? Let’s think positively. I’m not ready to give up. And I can guarantee you that if the man who set that fire steps in front of me, he’ll wish he hadn’t been born.”

  That was saying quite a bit. Henry tended toward being the passivist and peacemaker of their little group of three. To hear him promise violence was a rare thing.

  Robert sat back in his chair with a focused look on his face. “We can use the rooms in the back that didn’t sustain damage. We can either move merchandise back into them or we can offer them up for rent. That will bring in a little money.”

  Reluctantly, Joseph said, “If I need to, I’ll organize some fights.”

  “No!” Emily cried out.

  He shrugged. “I was a boxer before I was a miner. I was pretty good at it, even won an award or two. I can win.”