by Nancy Bush
Jenny grimaced. She didn’t like Jace anymore now than she had last winter, though he’d been a bit more human since Lexington Danner broke their engagement. That had been a fortunate day! Jenny hoped Tremaine would stop by the rooming house and regale her with all the intimate details but she’d seen neither hide nor hair of him since Christmas.
How was she going to get him back? she wondered forlornly, more convinced than ever that he had a woman in Portland. No one of Tremaine’s looks and sexuality would be living a life of celibacy. And he’d said as much anyway. Selfishly, she hoped it wouldn’t last.
Words sounded above the crash of the falls; words from the Half Moon’s open window. “…Danner… Lexington, Kentucky… will pay handsomely…”
Jenny didn’t recognize this new voice, but her interest quickened at the nature of the words. She stole closer to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the man speaking.
He was sitting in a chair, smoking, one knife-creased leg thrown over the other. Jenny had never seen him before, but his conversation was shockingly illuminating.
“…Danner came to Oregon on the Bonnie Lynne in ‘64. He brought his wife, Eliza, and his son, Tremaine, who was then about eight years old.”
“Well, he’s about thirty now, so that fits,” Jace remarked testily. “Get to the point.”
“I believe Eliza Danner was pregnant when they arrived. Do you happen to know the birthdate of Lexington Danner?”
“Sometime in February.” Jace’s chair squeaked as he shifted impatiently.
“Well, then, that fits. I believe Mrs. Danner was pregnant during the voyage.”
“What the hell has this got to do with anything?” Jace growled.
The stranger coughed in light sophistication. “Let me backtrack a bit, Mr. Garrett. It’s come to my attention that you have a distinct rivalry going on with members of the Danner family, specifically Tremaine Danner. There have been numerous recountings by the town members of when Dr. Danner — uh — tossed you into Fool’s—”
“I have no love for Tremaine Danner,” Jace cut in harshly.
The other man hesitated, eyeing Jace shrewdly. “If I were to give you information that might prove embarrassing for Dr. Danner — maybe even dangerous — would you be willing to tell me all you know about the Danners as a family?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I have a client who wants to know. A very wealthy client,” he added meaningfully.
Jace sat perfectly still, thinking. “If you could compromise Tremaine Danner, I would give you the information for free. But you’re going to have to give me something pretty special.”
“What if I were to tell you that the Danners are hiding an interesting family secret?”
Jace leaned forward intently, waiting.
“I believe Eliza Danner was married before — to a southern gentleman of some prominence. I believe she smashed her first husband’s skull with a poker, then ran for her life. Along the way, she met up with a drifter — one broken-down Boston doctor by the name of Joseph Danner, who had a young son in tow. I believe she talked Joseph Danner into marrying her within a week of when they left — sometime in the summer of ‘64.”
“She killed her first husband?” Jace repeated, shocked.
“Not only that, but she was already pregnant by him. Miss Lexington Danner is not Joseph Danner’s daughter.” The man smiled a knowing smile. “And neither is she Tremaine Danner’s sister. I understand the illustrious Dr. Danner is rather protective where Lexie’s concerned.”
Jenny gasped. Her fingers dug into the wooden slats of the building. Tremaine and Lexie? The news hit her like a blow. She felt the blood rush from her head.
“I already knew they weren’t related, Flynne,” Jace murmured. He was staring stupidly at the stranger. “But I didn’t know about Eliza.”
“You also know that Dr. Danner lusts after his would-be younger sister? I think only the threat of exposing Eliza’s crime keeps him from having her.”
“Go on,” Jace said, when the stranger stopped to puff on his cigar.
He leaned forward. “Things are about to change, Mr. Garrett. And when that happens, Miss Lexington Danner will find she’s not the daughter of an Oregon farmer, but an heiress to a fortune far beyond even yours.” The man’s eyes narrowed in appreciation at the staggered expression on Jace’s face. “You had better mend fences with the lovely Lexington right away, or lose her to your most detested rival…”
Jenny heard no more. With her skirts bunched in her hands, she sprinted back to her rooming house. She would send a wire to Tremaine. As soon as possible.
If Jace was about to make his play, she was also about to make hers.
¤ ¤ ¤
The breeze whipped bits of grit and hay into Lexie’s eyes as she swept out the barn. Still, it was better than running a household or sewing, two occupations her mother was bent on her learning. She would go completely mad if she were forced to play the role of a lady much longer. She’d been so certain things would fall into place once she was home, but Eliza refused to let her run the stables, work in the barn, or help out in the fields. She was obsessed with molding her daughter into a lady.
With a snort of disgust, Lexie threw down the broom and unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirtwaist, wiping off dew drops of perspiration. She was hot and frustrated and miserable. The first week she returned she’d expected Tremaine to show up any time. But now that week had stretched to two. Was he still winding things up in Portland? Or had he changed his mind about moving to Rock Springs after all?
She walked out into the blistering June heat. She ached for him. More so now than ever. She’d told him she loved him. She’d given him everything a woman can give. But she instinctively sensed there was a barrier between them that she couldn’t overcome, no matter how hard she tried. Why wasn’t he here if he supposedly wanted her so much?
Uneasy with her own thoughts, Lexie walked toward the house.
Pa’s buggy stood in front of the portico, the bay gelding harnessed in front switching his tail nervously. Suddenly wanting to escape, Lexie ran to the buggy just as Pa came out the front door. “Are you going into town?” At his nod, she said in a rush, “I want to go with you. I can’t stand just waiting around here all day.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said lamely, and was glad when he didn’t pursue the subject.
¤ ¤ ¤
Rock Springs lay like a dull gem in the late afternoon sun, it’s only glitter from Fool’s Falls. Tremaine wiped the dust from his lips and drove down the dirt road to the outskirts of town, parking in front of Jenny’s rooming house. It had taken him longer than he’d expected to make certain the hospital wouldn’t just forget the people on the other side of the river. Even with Jenny’s terse, cryptic wire burning a hole in his pocket, he hadn’t been able to speed up the process.
But now, thirty-six hours after he’d received her message, he was finally here. And what, he wondered reflectively, pulling the crumpled paper from his pocket, did it mean?
There’s trouble brewing. Family problems. Come as quick as you can. Quicker.
The last time Jenny had summoned him so urgently it was for Betsy Talbot’s stillbirth. For some reason this strange message seemed more ominous.
He rang the bell of the rooming house, but when there was no immediate answer, he let himself inside. Dust motes swirled as his footsteps echoed down the hallway. At the kitchen he stopped short. A pot of beans was parboiling on the cook stove, adding more moist heat to the sweltering day. Other than the muted sounds upstairs, this was the only sign that someone was home.
Tremaine sank onto the cot in the alcove, uneasy. But the round-the-clock hours he’d worked finally took their toll and he fell, sprawled across the narrow bed, into exhausted slumber.
¤ ¤ ¤
Lexie stood in front of Fool’s Falls, the mist of water cooling her flushed cheeks, trying to slow down her galloping pulse. The trip to t
own had been a mistake. A terrible, mindnumbing mistake. Tremaine’s buggy was parked boldly in front of Jenny McBride rooming house; Fortune looked like he’d been gathering dust there for some hours.
They’re just friends, Lexie, reminded herself. They are no longer lovers.
She drew in a long breath, amazed at herself. How had she ever become so insecure?
She glanced upward. The sun was straight above her. Pa would be done with his errands soon and start wondering what had become of her. With more resolve than courage, Lexie walked behind the shops, following the stream toward the rooming house near the end of town. She would confront Tremaine. She was tired of all the wondering.
¤ ¤ ¤
Jenny McBride set the sacks of staples from Garrett’s Mercantile on the slatboard counter, then turned and surveyed the sight that met her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she loved Tremaine, until she found him draped so inelegantly over her cot. Amused, she prodded his sleeping form with her toe, but all he did was groan and slap at her.
“It’s afternoon, you lazybones,” she said, grinning. As she watched his deep, even breathing, a feeling of profound tenderness stole over her. She leaned down and placed her hand against the side of his cheek. He muttered something unintelligible.
Jenny McBride had waited far too long for the man she loved to show her any love in return. Taking his chin between her strong hands, she pressed a warm kiss to his lips. “If you won’t come to my bed, I’ll have to come to yours,” she told him reasonably, and she fitted her body directly on top of him.
At that moment, Lexie looked through the open screen door of Jenny McBride’s rooming house. For half a beat, she didn’t believe it was Tremaine. But the arms wrapped so tightly around Jenny’s petite shoulders were achingly familiar, the leg thrown possessively over her drawn-up skirts one that held Lexie pinned the same way.
Jenny’s laughter spilled into the relentless sunny day. “Slow down, Dr. Danner,” she said in sublime amusement. “If I’d known you were going to be so ready, I would have got back sooner.”
“Jenny…?” Tremaine’s voice was a sensual slur. His hands slid over her sumptuous derrière. Icy reality shot through Lexie’s veins.
She pressed her hand to her mouth and stumbled away from the porch. Lies. It had all been lies! That was no kiss of friendship. And in the middle of the day! They couldn’t even wait until evening!
A cry of anguish lodged in her throat, suffocating her. She had to get out of Rock Springs. She’d waited for Tremaine too long as it was.
She wasn’t going to wait anymore.
Chapter Seventeen
Lexie sat perfectly straight in her chair. Dinner was over and Annie was clearing the plates. If she’d been asked what she’d eaten, she wouldn’t have been able to recall.
“Harrison won’t be back until August,” Pa was relating with regret. “I picked up a letter in town today and I left it in the buggy. I’ll get it for you.”
“Did he say why he can’t come home?” Eliza asked, as Pa scraped back his chair and went to get Harrison’s letter.
“Just that he’s busy with work.”
Busy with work. Lexie swallowed, wishing she could say the same about herself. She watched the flickering candles but images of Tremaine and Jenny undulated inside the dancing flames. He’d lied. They were lovers still. Why should she care when he’d never professed to caring a whit about her?
“What’s troubling you, Lexie? You’ve scarcely eaten a bite.”
Lexie jerked rigidly to attention. Eliza was staring at her in perplexity, waiting for an answer. Samuel and Jesse were looking at her, too. Lexie opened her mouth to speak — then was surprised at what she said. “I want to go to Denver and study with Dr. Breverman.”
“We know that, Lexie,” her mother answered tiredly.
“And I know I can’t. Because I’m a woman.” Lexie looked down at her hands. Tears were filling her throat. Before she could embarrass herself, she pushed back her chair, folded her napkin on the side table, and walked out of the room.
Upstairs, she wandered outside to the widow’s walk. She was as useless and simpering as the worst of the girls from Miss Everly’s School. What had happened to her gumption over the last year? Had learning all the coquetry, etiquette, and fine dancing turned her into the kind of woman she despised most?
A quiver ran down her willowy frame. She’d been waiting around like a lovesick cow, waiting for that moment when Tremaine would ride up and profess his undying love. Well, it wasn’t going to happen.
She had to get away.
A plan began to form in her mind, one which she’d oft considered, and just as many times tossed aside. She had no money, no connections, but she had a powerful, driving need and that was what finally won the battle of her conscience.
In her room, Lexie packed a large reticule. As soon as the house had quieted for the night, she slung the bag over her shoulder. Wearing the faded and worn split skirt, a white sleeveless shirtwaist, and a black cloak to cover herself, she scratched out a note of farewell, assuring her family they would hear from her soon. Placing the note on her pillow, she sneaked downstairs to the kitchen. Cook was nowhere in sight. A plate of cornbread sat on the counter, and Lexie stuffed several crumbly pieces into the pockets of her cloak. She grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from the sugar bowl and added them to her booty.
At last, Lexie finally considered the wisdom of running away. A woman alone, at night, with no protection, was asking to be raped, plundered, or killed.
Lexie stood perfectly still. She could tell Pa and Mother, and at least one of her brothers, were in the parlor. Stealthily, she slid into Pa’s den and removed one of his pistols from the glass gun case. This she hid in the pockets in the folds of her skirt, then retraced her steps to the kitchen and the back door.
Under the shadow of a moonless night she ran on winged feet to the stables, a dark wraith intent on secrecy. But when the Dutch door creaked open, she heard the unmistakable sound of someone already inside.
Lexie froze, but Jesse’s voice demanded from the gloom within, “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. I,” she automatically corrected herself. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
Since she’d already been found out, Lexie lit a lantern. Jesse was standing in front of the tack room door, his shirt unbuttoned, his lean chest heaving. The flush on his dark face made her realize she’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t.
It was as if all Tremaine’s transgressions were visited on his younger brother, and Lexie was instantly incensed. She flung open the door to the tack room and Annie, white-faced and ashamed, straw dangling in her black hair, was buttoning her shirtwaist as fast as her trembling fingers could work. “Miss Lexington,” she quavered wildly. “Please, don’t say nothin’ to your ma. She’d sack me, sure enough.”
Lexie simply turned on her booted heel and walked straight for Tantrum’s stall. The gelding nickered a welcome and snuffled her hand for a treat. Automatically, she fed him the purloined sugar.
“Lex,” Jesse said quietly, standing beside her. “What are you going to do?” It was then that he noticed her bulging reticule and dark clothing. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Alone? You can’t be serious. It’s not safe.”
“Jesse, if you want your secret kept, you’d better forget you saw me tonight.” She slid the bridle over Tantrum’s head, tugged the saddle onto his broad back, and drew the cinch.
“I won’t let you do it.” He grabbed her arm when she tried to lead Tantrum out of the box. “Where are you going? Rock Springs?” he demanded tersely. “Who are you meeting?”
“Do you have any money?” Lexie asked thoughtfully, ignoring his furious grip. “I need a loan.”
“Christ! There’s no talking to you!” His aquamarine eyes swept Lexie’s set face. “Here,” he said shortly, pulling a wad of bills out of his pocket, the money he’d earned from selling some of Pa’s lambs
“Take it. But I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.” Lexie moved past him and out into the black night. She mounted Tantrum while Jesse was still swearing and arguing with Annie. Like a whisper, she was gone before he could find her.
Rock Springs was only an hour away, but Lexie, knowing Jesse would be hard on her heels, veered Tantrum off the rutted road and into the brush. It would take longer, but no one would find her. And she didn’t plan on staying in Rock Springs tonight anyway.
¤ ¤ ¤
Tremaine stared fixedly at Jenny McBride. “What did you say this man’s name was?” he asked softly, dangerously.
“Flynne.”
He swore roundly and raked a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he boomed out furiously, scraping back his chair in one furious motion.
Jenny stirred cream into her tea in precise little circles. She was hurt. Tremaine had thrust her from him, as soon as he’d realized whom he was with. She’d known then, for a fact, his heart belonged to another woman — and she sensed that Flynne’s warning was fact: Tremaine loved Lexington.
“I didn’t tell you earlier because you were such a beast,” she stated flatly. Her womanly pride had taken beatings before, but this one was particularly devastating.
“Damn it all to hell, Jenny. I’m sorry. But this is important. Tell me about Flynne!”
“Because your sister might be in danger?”
Tremaine stared at her, realizing in that dreadful moment that she already knew the truth. “Flynne told you?” he asked softly. “He knows?”
“Yes.”
Tremaine exploded with a vicious swearword, one that singed even Jenny McBride’s well-seasoned ears. Realizing she’d lost him already, Jenny drew in a heavy breath, resigned to her role of best friend. Quickly and accurately, she recited the conversation as she remembered it.
Tremaine’s expression changed from incredulous fury to ashen worry. “My God,” he muttered, suddenly sure that his father’s nebulous concerns had been right. “I’ve got to get home,” he said blankly. As an afterthought, he gave Jenny a quick kiss on the forehead, then was gone.