While she was still frightened, she was feeling angry now, too. That damn copper. What else could it be? She was beginning to wonder if these people were even real miners, or just criminals posing as such. More likely the latter, considering whose name was on the mine. Harding.
The door opened. She shielded her eyes from the sudden burst of light. “Just making sure they grabbed the right woman,” she heard a masculine voice say. “I would have been annoyed if your mother was here instead of you, Miss Warren, especially since my note is being delivered to her.”
He actually started to close the door again. “Wait! What has my mother to do with this?”
“She’s going to assure me that the law stays out of it. In exchange, I’ll give you back to her and abide by Mrs. Harding’s wishes to let your father live. Your mother will once again be free to do as she pleases.”
“She was already free to do that—”
“No, she only thought she was. All those years I worked for Harding, do you think I wasn’t loyal to him? That I wouldn’t honor his final wishes? He made me rich. A lot of money can buy a lot of loyalty.”
“Honor? I don’t think you care about honoring anyone’s wishes or anything else, Mr. Harris. I think you just want this copper at any cost.”
He smiled. “Very astute of you, but then copper isn’t the poor substitute it used to be, and the vein here is worth millions.”
“The Callahans have already refused to deal with you. The sheriff and the county judge both know that. You won’t get away with this.”
He tsked. “Of course I will. People change their minds all the time—with the right incentive. The Callahans are cattlemen. They don’t give a damn about the copper.”
“They care about the damage you’ve caused to the range.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“That was you who tried to burn their house down, wasn’t it?” she guessed.
He laughed. “No, that wasn’t my idea. My foreman here was just trying to be helpful.”
“You call that help?”
“Yes, actually. Too bad it didn’t work.”
“Did you have one of your men shoot Cole Callahan?”
“I think you ask too many questions.”
“You did, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “That was an idea that just didn’t pan out. Your family and the Callahans were supposed to be enemies; they just weren’t acting like it enough to suit me. Figured to give your menfolk a little nudge to get the killing started so you Warrens could get rid of the Callahans for me. Problem solved. Still not sure why that didn’t happen. But this is much more simple. You’ll be released as soon as the mining rights are signed over, and Callahan should be here at any moment to do that. Your fiancé makes sure you come out of this unscathed, while your mother will have already convinced them not to retaliate. Everyone wins. I’ll even still give them my original offer, just to keep it all nice and legal.”
It was utterly galling, how pleased he sounded with himself. If he hadn’t been blocking the doorway so she couldn’t see beyond him, she might try pushing past him to get out of here before his plan succeeded. But she couldn’t tell how many guards were out there.
“There’s nothing legal about abduction and blackmail. For all your spit and polish, you’re just a fancy-dressed outlaw.”
He laughed. “I’m a businessman.”
“You’re no better than a common thug! Oh, and let’s not forget kidnapper, arsonist, blackmailer, and murderer!”
“Oh, come now, I only shot your father once,” he sneered. “The trick, Miss Warren, is not to get caught. I do pride myself—”
He stopped. Tiffany wasn’t sure why, but Harris suddenly looked a little sick to his stomach. She didn’t know he had a rifle barrel pressed to his back.
“I think I can dent that pride some, Mr. Harris,” Sheriff Ross said in a lazy drawl, “for all the things the little gal just mentioned and then some. Funny thing about our judge. He gets mighty ticked off when his rulings are ignored. And for everything else I can now lay before him, they’ll be tossing you in jail and throwing away the key.”
“Tiffany?!”
Hunter shoved Harris aside to get to her, drawing her hard against him. “Tell me you’re all right? That he didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine—now,” she assured him, though she was holding on to him just as tightly. Even with the sheriff’s arrival, she hadn’t felt relief until now. “How long were you listening?”
“The sheriff held me back. You were getting such a nice confession out of Harris, he wanted you to give him enough rope to hang himself.”
“My parents must be frantic.”
“They’re outside tearing the place apart, along with our brothers, looking for you.”
The sheriff’s voice was fading as he prodded Harris and the guards out of there.
“Come on, I’ll take you to them,” Hunter added, but he didn’t move, didn’t unwrap his arms from her either.
“How did you know to find me back here?”
“Andrew’s father led us to this back section. It would have taken us much longer to find you if he hadn’t, they’ve got so many tunnels down here, including one around the cave-in that’s on our land. Ross saw it on the way in. That’s a direct defiance of the court order against them and is going to get them shut down for good.”
“Completely? Well, it’s nice that something good came out of this, aside from Harris going to jail. But Andrew’s father? Don’t tell me their last name really is Buffalo?”
“No, it was just obvious, they look so much alike. He was leaving, in fact, most of the miners were. Harris was overheard planning your abduction and the word spread through their camp tonight. They didn’t sign on for things like this.”
He still wouldn’t let go of her. “Hunter?”
“I know.” He started to release her, but suddenly squeezed her tighter, confessing, “I’ve never been so scared, Tiffany. I was the first one here. I didn’t know where to look. Ross caught up to me just as Andrew’s father did, to point us this way. I almost drew on the sheriff for trying to stop me from charging in here. I don’t ever want to feel that kind of fear again. Marry me tomorrow—tonight. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep peacefully again if you aren’t where I can protect you. Don’t make me sleep on your porch tonight.”
She almost smiled. He hadn’t calmed down yet. It was making him unreasonable. “It’s such a small world. That mine owner, Mr. Harding, ruined our lives long before he tried to ruin yours. I’m glad this happened, that Harris is going to be held accountable, after all. It really bothered me when I thought he wouldn’t. But please, I have to let my parents know I’m safe. Get me out of here. We can discuss ‘us’ later.”
“Porch it is, then.”
She only half thought he was joking. He wasn’t.
Chapter Fifty-Four
ROSE HAD BEEN FURIOUS that William Harris had threatened another member of her family and had tried to manipulate her once again. She simply thrust the ransom note at Zachary and told him, “Get my daughter back.” But she’d calmed down after being assured that Harris was going to prison this time, along with a handful of his cohorts. Thanks to his arrogance in thinking he could get away with anything out West, they had so many charges to bring against him that he would be put away for good.
Zachary had been furious, too, but then he wasn’t used to anyone’s daring to manipulate him. He would have signed the papers, sent Tiffany on home, then shot Harris. But he felt better after Sheriff Ross assured him the mine would be shut down and gave him permission to close the mine entrance the easy way, with dynamite. Zachary lit the fuse himself.
The Callahans actually followed the Warrens home. Rose passed out the whiskey glasses, keeping one for herself. Tiffany didn’t object that she wasn’t included in that round of drinks. She could have used one earlier, but with Hunter still in the room, she was enveloped in feeling safe. She’d always liked and appreciated his adamant desire to
protect her no matter what, even before he knew who she was.
There was no mention of going back to the dance. Tiffany was the only one disappointed by that. Her brothers assured her there would be several more dances before the end of summer. They assumed she’d be there for them. They didn’t yet know that Rose was willing to take her back to New York now. But then Rose didn’t yet know that Tiffany no longer wanted to go back. However, her staying was dependent on Hunter. She still wasn’t sure she’d be doing the right thing by either of them if she let just her own wishes decide their future—or lack of one.
Rose found a moment to tell her privately, “I like Hunter, in case you were wondering. If I had to pick a Callahan again, now that they’re grown, I’d still pick him. He didn’t blush, even a little, when he told me how he felt about you.”
“Was that before you got that note?”
“Which he snatched out of his father’s hands. I’ve never seen a man that big move so fast. His horse was long gone before we even got to ours. He’s yours if you want him to be, you know.”
Rose told Zachary the tale of the night she first met William Harris and how he’d blackmailed her into leaving her husband. They shared another round of drinks to celebrate his downfall. Nothing could ever bring back the lost years, but at least one of the villains in that old tragedy had gotten what he deserved.
“It felt good, us being on the same side tonight,” Zachary admitted as the Warrens walked the Callahans to the door. “I’m willing to put the past to rest if you are, Frank.”
Franklin offered his hand. It was a momentous occasion, the first time those two men ever shook hands. “I would have moved to New York to make my wife happy, but she is partial to this place, and I’ll do anything to make her happy. Thank you.”
Rose went one better and hugged the eldest Callahan, which actually made him blush. “Good, good,” he mumbled. “Now maybe Mary will talk to me again.”
Tiffany’s brothers left with the Callahans to head back to town. It was still Saturday night, after all. Her parents hugged Tiffany for a long moment, now that they had her alone. They didn’t say anything, just showed her how much they loved her.
Then Rose said with a yawn that Tiffany was sure was fake, “What a long day. I’m ready for some sleep.”
“Sleep?” Frank chuckled as he followed his wife upstairs.
Tiffany watched them for a moment with a smile, then started up the stairs herself, but stopped when she remembered Hunter’s silly remark about sleeping on the porch tonight. Just to be sure he’d been joking, she stepped outside.
And there he was. He’d already removed Patches’ saddle so he would be comfortable for the night. It was on the floor next to the uncomfortable wooden chair Hunter was sitting in.
He smiled up at her. “What took you so long?”
She leaned back against the wall near him, even raised one knee the way he always did. “Because I didn’t think you were really serious.”
“Course you did, or you wouldn’t be out here.”
She didn’t deny it. “Should I get you a blanket?”
He gave that a little thought before saying, “Today was one of the hottest days of the summer. Don’t expect it to get too chilly tonight—or you could sleep here with me so we won’t notice if it does.”
“In the chair with you?”
“Why not? Well, you can sleep. I don’t expect to get any.”
“You really think there will be any more trouble? The worst offenders are in jail, and the sheriff said he’d arrange for the railroad to ship the rest out, east or west, in the next few days.”
“I meant with you on my lap, I won’t be getting any sleep.”
“Oh.”
The porch lamp wasn’t lit, but ample light came from the parlor windows. However, for once, Tiffany didn’t care that she was blushing a little.
She did look down, though, before she said, “Why didn’t you ask me to dance tonight?”
“Because I was having too much fun watching you get the hang of it. Because I wanted you to have a good taste of one of our shindigs and see that we can have as much fun out here in the West as you do back East. Because I knew once I did have my arms around you, I wouldn’t be letting go—and I can’t wait any longer for that.”
He leaned over to reach her and drew her onto his lap. With one arm about her waist to support her back, he tilted her chin so she’d look at him. She almost gasped, so much heated emotion was in the powder-blue eyes looking back at her.
“I want to marry you, Tiffany. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you to be my wife.”
“That’s twice now you’ve called me Tiffany.”
“Is it? Guess I’m getting used to it. But you know it doesn’t matter what you want to call yourself, you’re still the woman I fell in love with. I knew it the night I saw you with Caleb’s new son, saw how sweet and tender you really are. There was nothing fake about that. It wasn’t some role you were playing. That was you, plain and simple. Didn’t take more’n a day for me to figure that out, that it was all you. Your daring to come to the enemy camp on your own, that took a great deal of courage. So did trying to put out a fire instead of running away from it. Wanting to rope a cow and laughing at yourself for how long it took. Befriending a pig of all things. Admit it. None of that was a lie. The only thing you lied about was your name.”
“Maybe . . .”
“Maybe? That’s all you have to say? You’ve been trying to convince me I don’t really know you. I just proved I do. And I just asked you to be my wife! Not because we’re already betrothed. And certainly not because your last name is Warren. I love you!”
“I love you, too, but—”
That’s all he needed to hear to silence her with a kiss. Tiffany didn’t want to wait any longer to taste him, either. To hell with her reservations. To hell with what he’d told her that day they went riding, told Jennifer, about why he didn’t want to marry the Warrens’ only daughter. And she’d thought too long that she couldn’t have him. Now with that glimmer of hope that she could, it was like a dam opening, releasing all her emotions at once.
His kiss was exquisitely passionate. Her hand gripped his neck, but the position wasn’t to her advantage, she couldn’t feel enough of him. The one nice thing about that uncomfortable wooden chair was that it had no arms to keep her from straddling his lap. She moved rather quickly when she realized that. He was a bit surprised, but she was now facing him, her breasts pressed hard to his chest, her hands now holding his head, which was more even with hers. And she could feel him, between her legs, that hard bulge. She could even rub against him and she did. He was driving her crazy—no, she was driving herself crazy, because she could almost feel that dizzying excitement and overwhelming pleasure that she’d felt that night in the barn. It was there, wanting to spiral out of control, but just out of reach. So much passion, so much need, and she couldn’t quite get to it.
She had no idea how he did it without actually moving her or breaking that kiss, pulling on a string, pushing down loosened drawers, but he was suddenly inside her, really inside her. His hands moved to her hips to guide her, but she didn’t need help. She knew exactly what to do. It all converged at once, everything he evoked—passion, hope, love—bursting the spiral, wrapping her in bliss.
They sat there unmoving, breathing still heavy. Her hair had come loose, lay over his arms as he held her against him. She didn’t want to stir yet, didn’t want to give up a single inch of him. It was a remarkably comfortable position for such an uncomfortable chair.
Until she realized, “Oh, my God, on the porch?”
His laughter shook her body, still pressed to his. “Barns, porches, does it matter?”
She turned her head and lay it on his shoulder and kissed his neck tenderly. “No.”
“I heard that but earlier,” he said carefully. “That wasn’t a ‘yes, I’ll marry you,’ was it?”
She sighed. “I can’t deny I have
one last reservation, but it’s a big one.”
“Tell me.”
“It was the day you told me why you didn’t want to marry a Warren, that what you felt for them would always be there, deep down, under the surface. And it would get in the way, whether you liked her—me—or not.”
He smiled wryly. “You would have to remember that. It’s not that I didn’t think it. I did, every time I was looking for excuses not to have to marry a woman I didn’t love. Other times, I’d look at it from a more positive side, that, who knows, maybe I’d end up adoring her. So I actually did some shopping for her—well, ordering. Some odd catalogs come through here from time to time. I bought her some things I thought an Easterner might like. Don’t laugh, but I’ve got crates of fine English china stacked in my room, vases, pretty little knickknacks, fancy painted porcelain teacups, when I had no idea if she even drank tea. I went overboard, on my optimistic days. Then I’d think of chucking it all in the fire, on my not-so-optimistic days. You drove me crazy before I even met you.”
She grinned. “It’s ironic that a few of those crates arrived here the same day I did.”
He moved her back so he could hold her face in his hands. “Why don’t you ask me why I shared those fears with you?”
“Why?”
“Because I was already thinking of you in a permanent way, and I didn’t want you to think you were breaking up something that was fated to be. The real irony is that it was fated to be, we just didn’t know it yet. Well, I didn’t. You, on the other hand, cheated. You got to meet me long before I met you.”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“I won’t say another word—tonight.” She laughed, but he added, “The suspense is killing me, Red. Are we getting hitched tomorrow or not?”
She kissed one cheek. “My mother did have a wedding dress made for me.” She kissed his other cheek. “I just refused to pack it, since I had no intention of marrying you.” She kissed his lips. “It will take at least a week to get it here.”
He kissed her long and hard before he said, “Next Sunday then?”
One Heart to Win Page 30