Hunter wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head and leaned his back against the railcar.
“We will be in Denver in a few hours,” Cat murmured into his chest.
“Oui,” Hunter whispered.
Cat pulled back and looked up into the shadow that covered his face.
He lowered his mouth to hers.
She tasted sweet smoke as his lips brushed hers.
Why did he have to be so stubborn?
Cat pressed her breast against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He took her upper lip in his mouth, then released it to capture her lower lip. His hand cupped the nape of her neck, and he tipped his head to match his mouth to hers. His soft inhale sealed their lips momentarily. He groaned, as though in pain, and pulled her tight against him.
An unfamiliar sensation clutched deep inside Cat. She moaned as his mouth savored hers and pressed her hips against him seeking something she couldn’t name.
Hunter groaned once more, then broke the kiss. He pressed her head against his chest and inhaled deeply.
Cat listened to his heart race. She squeezed her eyes tight and swallowed a hard bit of emotion that clamored for release.
Neither spoke. All that needed to be said had already been laid before them.
When Cat gained control of her emotions, she stepped from Hunter's arms. She raised her hand and caressed the side of his face, down the scar, through the bristle of his unshaven face to his mouth.
He grasped her hand, turned it, and touched his lips to the tender center of her palm. “Good night, Mademoiselle Kline.” He released her hand, tipped his head in a salute, and opened the door.
“Good night, Mr. Veau,” Cat whispered, and returned to her seat.
* * *
Just before sunrise, the train pulled into the Denver station. Cat gathered her things and followed Sam from the train.
On the platform, beside the depot wall, Sam set his bag and blanket down. He pulled a stamped metal luggage claim from his vest.
Hunter joined them and set his carpetbag beside Sam’s. “I’ll get the trunks if you procure the wagon, mon ami.”
Sam nodded and handed Hunter their metal tab. “Cat, stay with our belongings.”
Cat dipped her head and placed her blanket and bag alongside Hunter’s.
The men disappeared in different directions—Hunter, down the platform toward the luggage car, and Sam through the depot toward the street.
Cat organized their luggage into a neat pile and watched the people depart the train. Before long, she spotted Hunter as he walked alongside a uniformed porter. The porter pushed a wheeled cart piled high with their trunks.
When they reached Cat, Hunter loaded their carpetbag to the cart and took Cat’s arm. “This way, petit chat.” He escorted her around the side of the depot and down a ramp to the street.
Travelers with their luggage, and a line of wagons and hansom cabs filled the curb in front of the train depot.
Sam spoke to the driver of a two-seat wagon.
As she and Hunter approached, Sam waved at the porter to bring the luggage to the back of the wagon.
Hunter assisted Cat onto the rear bench as Sam helped the porter load the trunks. Hunter spoke briefly to Sam, then pulled himself onto the bench beside Cat.
Sam tipped the porter and climbed beside the driver. “The Wagon Wheel Hotel, near Colfax and Park.”
The driver nodded. “I know the place.” He shook the reins and they pulled into traffic.
At the hotel, a sleepy night clerk assigned each of the travelers a room and handed them keys. He rang a bell on the desk, and a man appeared from the next room and took charge of unloading their luggage from the wagon.
“You’re in room eight, Cat.” Sam handed her a key. “I’ll pay the driver and have the bellhop deliver your luggage.”
“What room do you have?” Cat glanced at Hunter as her brother checked his key fob, but Hunter had his back to her as he spoke with the driver.
“I’m in room 12 upstairs.” Sam replied.
“All right, then. Good night.”
Cat found her room and waited for the bellhop. As soon as he departed, she closed and locked the door. The small room had everything she needed—a washbasin and a bed.
She shed her travel-worn garments and made quick use of the water and soap on the dresser. She pulled on a nightgown and plucked the pins from her hair, scratching her fingers deep against the scalp. With a promise she would seek out the bathing facility when she woke, she pulled back the heavy down coverlet and crawled into the soft bed.
Hunger woke her. She clambered from the bed and reluctantly dressed in clean clothes from her trunk.
Sometime today, I shall find a bathtub.
A knock at her door interrupted her toilette as she brushed the tangles from her hair. She opened the door and smiled at her brother. “Good morning.”
Sam waited in the hallway dressed in tan trousers and jacket with a dark vest and white shirt. “You should have asked who knocked,” Sam scolded, mock anger in his blue-gray eyes.
Cat returned to her hair. “I knew it was you.” She twisted it onto her head and secured the bun with hairpins.
“Because you can see through doors?” Sam rubbed at the four-day old bristle on his chin and raised an eyebrow.
“Because I’m hungry, which means you must be starved. I expected you.”
“There’s a restaurant down the street that serves breakfast and lunch. The time is right for either.” He hesitated in the doorway. “Are you about ready?”
“I am.” Cat picked up her reticule.
“After breakfast, we’ll go to the address I have for Jason Harris. The Marshal’s office indicated he may be at his ranch, but I should check the town address first.” He followed her down the hallway and out the door to the street.
“You can check the address without me. I heard the night clerk mention a bathing room attached to the hotel. I fully intend make use of a tub after we eat.”
“Hunter’s going to the house with me.”
Cat stopped and turned to her brother. “Why do you say that?” She felt the heat in her cheeks.
Dash it! How does he know?
Sam stopped and looked back at his sister with a wide grin. “I'm trained to observe. Did you think I wouldn’t notice after four days confined with you two on a train?”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Cat advanced on her brother.
Sam shrugged as they resumed walking. “I’m not your father—and I trust Hunter.”
“You trust him and not me?” Cat threw a snide glance at Sam. “I thought you were only acquainted with him. How well do you know Hunter?”
“Well enough, Cat. He's a good man.” Sam opened the door to the small restaurant. Arriving between breakfast and lunch, they had their choice of seats. Sam hung his hat on a peg by the door and escorted Cat to the back of the establishment. He pulled out her chair, and then sat with his back to the wall.
Both Cat and Sam ordered the breakfast omelet.
After the waitress left their table, Cat grinned and whispered to Sam. “I’ve grown quite fond of Hunter.” Relieved she could speak of her affection lifted her heart and made every possibility more real.
“I like him, too.” Sam smiled at his sister’s enthusiasm. After a moment, his smile dimmed, and his eyes became solemn. “I would hate to see him get hurt.”
“Don’t say that.” Cat sat back and shook her head. “I would never do anything to hurt Hunter.”
“You may not intend him harm.” Sam thanked the waitress who set water on their table. “A young woman might not realize how much a man cares for her, or how her actions could—make him suffer.”
Cat’s brow furrowed as she stared at her brother.
This isn’t about me at all.
He took a sip of water and looked away.
“Who was she?” Cat asked, her voice h
eavy with sympathy.
His gaze returned to his sister. “I’m not talking about me.”
Cat narrowed her eyes. “I think, perhaps, you are.”
“It doesn’t matter. My point is Hunter doesn’t receive a great deal of attention from women. Especially not from beautiful young girls like yourself.” Sam straightened as the waitress approached with their plates. “Just be sure how you feel about him.”
The waitress slid their plates onto the table in front of them. “Anything else?” She glanced from Cat to Sam.
“No, thank you,” Sam replied, and picked up his napkin.
Cat watched the waitress return to the front of the restaurant to seat new guests. “This is not an infatuation, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Sam swallowed his first bite of omelet and leaned forward, knife and fork in hand. “I think you may be too young to judge. You’re just out of school.”
“Now you do sound like a father.” Cat cut her omelet and glared at Sam. “Can I at least remain at the hotel while you chase after that Harris man?”
Sam swallowed and shook his head. “No. You’ll come with me.”
“Fine.” Cat popped a piece of egg in her mouth.
“We won’t be gone more than a few days. I only need to speak with Mr. Harris about his involvement in what appears to be a financial swindle run by an investment firm out of Boston.” Sam cut another piece from his omelet. “Hunter will be busy with his own affairs while we’re gone.”
After they finished eating, Sam paid for their meal, and they walked back to the hotel in silence.
* * *
Hunter
Hunter folded the newspaper and set it on the table when he saw Sam and Cat enter the hotel lobby.
Cat pushed open the door herself, without waiting for Sam. Her lips were pinched and her eyes blazed.
Sam shook his head and followed Cat across the lobby.
The siblings had been fighting. Probably about me.
Hunter stood as they approached. “Are we ready to go?”
Sam nodded. “It's just us. Cat wants to take a bath.”
“Which I would highly recommend for both of you.” Cat smiled at Hunter, then walked to the desk clerk.
“We might as well get this over with.” Sam turned and headed back out the door.
Hunter glanced at Cat’s back as he slid his hat on his head, then he followed Sam out the door.
Sam waited on the walkway and pointed up the street when Hunter stepped outside. “There’s a stable a block down.”
When they reached the livery, they made arrangements with the stable master to have two horses tacked up for in town use for a few hours. In no time, they were in the saddle and heading toward Park Avenue.
“Did you do your map divining?” Sam asked.
Hunter grinned at his friend’s description of his odd power and use of the pendulum. “I did. Both last night and this morning. I think there are three individuals, all east of Denver. Two are moving quickly in this direction.”
From Park Avenue they turned right on Pence Street.
“It’s possible they will all return to Denver. If there’s a town hall here, they may have a current map of town. If they don’t, I’ll need to sketch one.”
“And if your bounties stay east?” Sam asked.
“Once they stop moving, I’ll track their location.” Hunter glanced at Sam.
Sam nodded. “If Harris isn’t at this house, Cat and I will head for his ranch this afternoon. We’ll have to camp out overnight. Sam laughed. “I’ll enjoy watching Cat sleep rough. I don’t think she’s ever sat around a campfire.”
“Your sister is something else.” Hunter smiled at the thought of Cat sitting in the warm glow of the fire.
“As you've said, more than once.” Sam looked over at Hunter. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what your intentions are.”
Hunter pressed his lips and shook his head. “I told her she could do better than me. I had nothing to offer a woman like her.”
“And what did she say?”
“She told me to fix it,” Hunter replied, and grinned when Sam laughed.
“Then I'm back to my original question ... what are your intentions?”
Hunter reset his hat on his head and chuckled. “I guess I better do as she says and fix my problem. Is there still an opening at the Marshal's office for a field agent?”
“There may be. I know they’ve asked about you before. They know you and consider you a good candidate for a position like this.” Sam winked at Hunter. “You come with a fairly high recommendation.”
“Fairly high, mon ami?” Hunter chuckled. “I'll send them a telegram this afternoon and see what they say. I want to have a permanent job before I ask to court your sister.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow at Hunter. “I thought you were already courting.”
“She doesn't take no for an answer.”
“Don't I know it?” Sam pulled an envelope from his pocket and checked the address. “It’s just ahead. The house being repaired.”
As Sam dismounted, a thin, balding man turned away from the construction work and greeted them. “Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?”
“Are you Jason Harris?” Sam asked as they shook hands.
“No, sir. My name is Albert Fielding. I’m supervising Mr. Harris’s porch rebuild.”
“I see.” Sam returned the envelope to his pocket. “Is Mr. Harris available?”
“And you are?”
Sam pulled a leather wallet from his coat and showed Albert Fielding his badge. “Samuel Kline, U.S. Marshal. Mr. Harris may have some information on a case I’m investigating. Do you know where I can find him?”
Albert Fielding bobbed his head. “He and his wife left a couple of days ago for his cousin's ranch, east of here. The Harris-Highlands Ranch. You know of it?”
“I do. Thank you, Mr. Fielding.”
Hunter turned his mount as Sam stepped into his saddle.
They returned the horses to the stable, and Sam rented a buckboard wagon and team for several days. At the hotel, Sam advised the desk clerk he and his sister would be checking out. However, he expected to return in less than a week's time. Then, Sam went to tell Cat they would leave for the ranch today.
After Sam left, Hunter turned to the small lobby to wait. He looked up from his paper when he heard Cat’s voice. She gave the desk clerk her room key, and requested a bellhop fetch her trunk to the lobby.
When she turned, her gaze found Hunter’s and she walked toward him with a smile on her beautiful face.
What does a woman like her see in me?
Even dressed in her travel-weary outfit from the train, she moved with regal bearing.
He rose to his feet as she approached.
“We’ll be leaving soon.” She took the seat across from him.
“Sam said you could be back in five days.”
Cat nodded. “Will you be here when we return?”
“I'm not sure.” He wanted to say yes, but the lives of those he hunted were at risk. “If I leave to follow a lead, I will leave a message for you at the desk.”
“A message for me ... or for Sam?” Cat’s eyes asked questions he couldn’t answer yet.
“Mon beau petit chaton, any message I leave at the desk will be for you.” Perhaps he would hear back from the Marshal’s office before she returned. Until he had more to offer her, he didn’t want to give her false hope.
Sam entered the lobby from the hotel hallway, spotted Hunter and stopped behind Cat. “I’m going to walk up to the stable and get the wagon.” He glanced down at Cat. “The bellhop will take our luggage outside. The wagon should be ready.” He raised his regard to Hunter. “Would you keep an eye out for me?”
“I will see you when you pull up, mon ami.” Hunter indicated his line of sight through the front window.
Sam nodded and crossed the lobby to the exit.
Hunter looked from Sam’s back to Cat. “He knows about us.”
“Us.” Cat smiled. “Yes, he does. He’s known all along, or so he would have me believe.”
Hunter's gaze broke from Cat's blue eyes and focused out the window. He stood, held out his hand, and then drew Cat to her feet.
“I am going to miss you, Alexander Veau,” Cat whispered.
Hunter brought her hand to his lips. He kissed her palm, never looking away from her eyes, then folded her fingers over the kiss and touched his lips to her knuckles. “And I shall miss you, Catherine Kline. I look forward to your return.”
Cat inclined her head and smiled at Hunter.
Hunter glanced out the window and muttered an oath. “Your brother is here already.”
She nodded, looking down. “I will see you soon. Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” he murmured. “And you—”
Cat clasped his hand quickly, then turned and made her way across the lobby and out of the hotel doors.
Hunter followed to watch through the glass.
Sam stood beside the wagon as the bellhop secured their trunks for the journey. When Cat approached him, he helped her to her seat, then rounded the wagon and climbed up beside her.
Hunter stepped out the door and onto the wooden walkway as they pulled away. As he knew she would, Cat looked back and waved. Hunter lifted his hand and held it high until she turned away.
Hunter returned to his room and pulled his maps from his leather binder and his pendulum from its silk pouch. He opened his big map of America and laid it across the bed. The vial of blood had dried to a congealed sludge. He twisted the stopper into the glass and put it away. He had used the pendulum before without blood, and this vial had been contaminated from the start. The whispers in his head urged caution, but they had urged that from the moment he set eyes on Minister Tremble.
He held the pendulum in his hand and closed his eyes. His mind became calm, and his heart rate slowed. He let the arrowhead slide from his hand as he held tight to the rose quartz above the map. The instrument began to circle.
Seeress, show me again the location of those you spoke of in the prophecy.
The urgency of his quest built in his mind. He felt the pendulum change direction and opened his eyes. The pendulum swung in an oblong circle, wider on one side, as though forming a triangle. There were clearly three points, all east of Denver. The furthest point was this side of the Mississippi river.
Prophecy (Soul of the Witch Book 2) Page 18