The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides)

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The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) Page 5

by Karin, Anya


  “Mr. Bullock, he said a few things that-”

  “Yes, I’m sure he’s a very nice man with a lot of important things to share, but right now we need to get ready. It’ll take a number of days to pan out the source of the gold, as Mr. Star said, and then when we figure that out, we’ll be able to hire a few hands to work the claim until a vein is found. Well, I’m getting quite ahead of myself.” He finally stopped for a breath.

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe this is all happening so quickly, Father. It’s just that the things Mr. Bullock warned me about rang true with what Eli, I mean, Mr. Masterson said.”

  “Eli, is it? He can’t be gone much longer. Didn’t he say he’d be back in around a week’s time?”

  “Yes, I think so,” I said. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Even speaking about him flusters my daughter. That cowboy’s got his hooks in you deep.” Father grinned and stuck his elbow in my ribs like he had since I was a little girl. “Anyway, we’ve got things to do.” He handed me a bundle of clothing. “Here, you’ll want to wear this instead of your fineries.”

  I smoothed my paisley skirt. “Wait, did you say ‘we’?” My voice was probably a little more shocked than I mean to sound.

  “I want to show you the thing that’s going to make us rich, Clara. I mean really rich. Not rich like a banker can be, or a small-time businessman. Rich like George Hearst. Rich like –”

  Patting him on the arm again, I cut father off. “Weren’t you saying something about getting ahead of yourself?” He smiled. “I don’t know what good you expect me to be at a gold claim. I hardly have the first idea what I’m doing.”

  “Well then you’re better off than I was yesterday,” father laughed softly. “Come on, put this stuff on. If nothing else I want to take you out to the claim and show you what it looks like. Even if there’s no gold out there, it’s the most beautiful damn country I’ve ever seen. Oh good Lord, listen to my mouth. One day around these miners and cowboys and I’m mouthing off like one of them. Pardon me.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. I have to wear all of this?” He handed me a full outfit – underskirts, bonnet, apron and all.

  “Mhm. There’s a few women out there working the claims, Mr. Star told me. This is the sort of thing they all wear. Meet me outside? First order of business is going to the stables in town and getting our horses.”

  At that, I put my hands up. “Horses? Where did you get horses?”

  “You old father bought two very nice mares from a gentleman at the Gem last night. He may have been rather intoxicated, but he was down on his poker luck.”

  He whistled as he clomped out the door and slammed it shut. I took a deep breath and began to change. I couldn’t take my mind off of two things – one, the dangers we’d been warned about, which centered on the duplicity of the other miners. The second was Eli, and his promise to return. To that point, I’d managed not to forget him. In fact, I’d managed to think about him almost unceasingly. I hoped that he would at least remember my face when next we met.

  *

  Morning mist gave way to slowly mounting humidity as the two beautiful mottled Arabians my father bought galloped along the path to the hills. There were several claims spread out over a huge area, about a hundred miles or so, of rolling country, but for safety’s sake, the prospectors had agreed to set up camps in a small common area on one corner of a claim that was already worked out.

  He’d met three of the prospectors the day before when he was with Mr. Star, though a number of them had been already out in the field when he went through.

  “City slicker!” A voice calling from the campground made us both turn at once. It was the man we’d seen in the tussle with Sheriff Bullock at the hardware store. Alongside him was a bulldog of a man who remained silent. “Good to see you’re actually working. Most’a you type what come out here do it thinking gold just rains from the sky.”

  “Mr. Star warned me sternly about those two,” Father said softly to me, out the side of his mouth as the men approached. “Goldtooth – Mr. Rawls, I mean – is known to try and bilk people out of their claims rather than actually work on his own. The only name he knew for the accomplice there is ‘Captain’ Ernie. They have some kind of history with Mr. Masterson, though I’m not sure –”

  “The gossip makes my ears burn. Which claim is yours?”

  “Father,” I said, “if Mr. Star warned you about them, maybe best not to say much.”

  Before I could finish, Father’s nerves got the best of him. “Morning to you,” he said. “Ours is the one up the creek a way, to the north.”

  I let out a sigh and Mr. Rawls spat a wad of brown ooze near my father’s boot.

  “Keep me up on what you find. These sorts of arrangements always work better when we, er, work together. Help each other out.”

  My skin had begun to crawl the instant Mr. Rawls addressed my father. After the spitting and the smell of his sour breath when he got closer, exiting his presence was my most urgent need. “Father,” I said. “We should get to the claim and get to work. I’m sure Go – I’m sure Mr. Rawls is eager to get to his work as well. Isn’t that right, Mr. Rawls?”

  Captain Ernie pulled his lips back in a horrible grin, revealing a set of absolutely straight, and very yellow, teeth. He looked rather similar to a smiling bear, I thought, and pursed my lips to avoid laughing directly in his face.

  “That’s right,” Father gulped. “We need to get busy. A great deal to do and all. It was nice to finally meet you formally.”

  My father stood there, visibly uncomfortable, trying to figure out some way to make a gracious exit, as Mr. Rawls just stared at him, waiting for a reaction. I took his hand and pulled. “We should leave Mr. Rawls to his work, father. Goodbye.” I waved as I yanked him away.

  “Well, what do you think?” Father said as we pulled to a stop a quarter-hour further along the trail from where we met Rawls and his goon.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “But this is the claim?”

  A rather quick moving stream cut through two rocky hills. Far off and a good distance beneath us was a clearing that led up to the base of a mountain. The whole scene laid out in front of me was quite startling, especially for someone like me, who until about a week and a half prior, had only taken in nature as it was presented on short carriage rides into the rather lifeless area outside New York City. This was something else entirely.

  Suddenly, the newness of it all crashed into my chest. And not just the novelty of the surroundings, either. The new people – new men, I should say; though the two ladies I met at Mr. Swearengen’s saloon were quite colorful – were of a breed I’d never witnessed before, much less interacted with to any meaningful degree. Mr. Star and Mr. Bullock; the rather horrifying Captain Ernie and Goldtooth Rawls, and of course, Eli, they were all just such fascinating people. My mind settled on Eli’s sky-blue eyes for a moment before I remembered the warning both he and Mr. Star gave us about looking out for ourselves amongst the prospectors.

  “Father,” I said, still looking over the valley, “if Mr. Star warned you about those men, why test what he said? After just having met both men, I can tell I can trust Mr. Star a great deal more than I trust him.” I nodded, tilting the brim of my hat backwards slightly.

  “I know. Can I be honest with you, Clara?” Father’s voice was less earnest than it had been lately.

  “Of course. Is something bothering you?”

  “I’m a little worried is all, though I suppose it’s nothing. Running up against those two put me on edge. I can’t help but think you should be in New York, being courted by Francis and awaiting a wedding. This is no place for a girl like you.”

  Francis Malone, the man my father decided I’d marry when he first went to work at the bank. He was a nice enough young man. Ambitious, driven, willing to do anything to succeed, that sort. The only problem is that he didn’t strike me as someone I wanted to spend any more time
with than necessary. His conversation was a bore, and after meeting someone like Eli, I’m not sure I could ever have gone back to such a life.

  “Father,” I paused to consider my words for a moment.

  “I don’t want that life,” I admitted. “Francis is a very nice man and I’m sure he’d do well to take care of me and all of that, but, may I be honest with you? I don’t want to be with him. I don’t want to be the sort of person who just learns to take care of a home and raise a clutch of children. Coming out here and seeing this beauty, meeting these people, I don’t want to stop and settle down into a nice New York life. Not yet anyway.”

  “That damned Eli did this to you.” There was a glint in my father’s eye, but he still had a bit of an irritated twinge in his voice.

  “Eli? No, what are you talking about? I like him a great deal, but he’s only part of the picture.”

  But father heard nothing of it. The same thing that made him a brilliant businessman also made him a rather frustrating conversational partner. “When I let you talk me into bringing you out here, I ruined your chance to be a nice, normal girl. With a family. Like you used to say you wanted.”

  “Father, I never said anything of the sort. How long have you been sitting on these feelings? Only hours ago you were excited about impending wealth and – and wanted my help. And now this? I just don’t understand what’s happened.” I felt my cheeks flush.

  He took a deep breath, visibly calming somewhat. “Oh I’m sorry,” he said with a shaking voice. “I’m afraid I let my temper get the best of me. Those two men just got me all –”

  “How do there!”

  I just about jumped out of my skin at the sudden noise. One of my slick-soled boots slid out from under me and before I knew what was happening, I was on the way to the dusty, rocky ground when an arm caught me about the middle and hauled me back to my feet.

  “Oh my,” I said, pushing a fallen lock out of my face. “I don’t... you certainly moved quickly.”

  “No, no, I’m as sorry as can be, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man had a dirty face, but an attractive one. And the arm he still had around my waist was thick and strong with muscle. I absently let my hands settle on his shoulders.

  “Th – thank you,” I muttered. “For, uh, keeping me from falling over. With all these rocks, that would have given me quite a cut.” I shook my head, coming to my senses enough to be embarrassed. “I’m sorry sir.” I got my feet underneath myself and tried to regain what was left of my dignity.

  “Quite all right, ma’am,” he said with a charming smile. “Again, it was my fault. I should have spoken up from further away. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

  I shook my head, still staring directly at my feet. “Quite fine, sir.”

  “Fine, that’s just fine. Any rate – pleased to meet you, I’m Davis Clark. I saw you talking with Goldtooth and his dog-like companion back at base camp, but couldn’t catch up in time. Those two certainly like to keep abreast of everyone’s business, don’t they?”

  “That they do,” Father said, extending his hand. “Good to meet you, Jefferson James. That’s my daughter Clara. We were embroiled in a very serious conversation, I’m afraid neither of us saw you coming.”

  Mr. Clark chuckled softly and removed my hands from his shoulders. “Always a welcome surprise to see a lovely lady out here,” he said. “Pardon my forwardness. I’ve been in Deadwood too long to remember the proper way to behave myself. Well, I can see that you two are busy. I just wanted to come by and make myself less than a stranger. My claim’s the next one down from here. I work it with my son Peter, and a couple of hired hands, but he’s off on some fool adventure presently. Decided he’d like to try fur trapping, despite my warnings against it.”

  At that, my father shot me a look which I chose to ignore to avoid public anger.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clark,” Father said. “We’ll be in touch I’m sure. Working this close together, you just never know. Your offer extends to us – if you should need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Sir,” Mr. Clark said with a tip of his hat. “Miss James, will you permit me?” He reached for my hand. Just like Eli and Mr. Bullock, he kissed it most politely before replacing it at my side. “Pleasure to meet you both.” He turned to leave before stopping for a moment and spinning back around. “One more thing. You’ve probably heard this from any number of people before, but the dangers here aren’t the snakes or the spiders or the Sioux.”

  “So we’ve been told,” Father said with a slight sigh.

  Mr. Clark raised his hand to his lips before continuing. “I’m saying this not to be a braggart, but so you know I’m being honest with you. I can tell from the brief exchange we’ve had that you two are a good sort. My claim is working. It’s not a motherlode by any stretch, but it’s made me wealthy and doesn’t seem to be stopping.”

  “I see,” Father said. “But if you’re advising caution, then why –”

  “Because the only safety that exists out here is in numbers. The good lot has to stick together. I have a feeling this claim you’re sitting on is a rich one, but I’ve nothing to back that. I’ll also say this: I don’t want it. Beware anyone who does.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you for your honesty. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  As he turned to leave a second time, Mr. Clark touched the brim of his hat and smiled. “We’ll be seein’ you around.”

  “Well,” Father said. “Did you hear that?”

  “I believe so, but –”

  “That’s the second person who said I’m sitting on something big.”

  I pursed my lips. The two of us had heard vastly different things from Mr. Clark.

  For the rest of the day I busied myself with my journal as father set up a complex series of screened pans along the creek. When he was finished, he clapped his hands. “That does it! Now, tomorrow, we come back and see where to go from here.”

  “That’s wonderful, father,” I said burying my skepticism. “How do you tell?”

  Still with a broad grin, Father replied, “I was hoping you knew. One more thing to ask Mr. Star about tomorrow before we head out, I suppose!” He chuckled.

  I cringed. The mounting warnings, my father’s eager unpreparedness, it all made me uneasy. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the cooling early evening air. Even an hour’s ride from the town, the air was crisper, cleaner; almost sweet as it filled my body.

  “Yes,” I said. “I suppose so. Let’s go home.”

  Six

  September 18, 1878

  Deadwood, Dakota Territory

  Two days had passed without any excitement since my last trip to the claim when I was awakened just after dawn by a rapturous knocking at the front door.

  “Mr. James? You in?” It was Sol Star looking rather disheveled. “Mr. James! Letter’s come, it was marked urgent!” I’d never heard the man so upset. He was completely without that chipper, cheerful voice to which I’d accustomed myself. “Mr. James?” He knocked again.

  “Goodness, Mr. Star. What could be the matter?” Father opened the door dressed only in his long johns and trousers. His suspenders weren’t even pulled up yet, and he still had the remnants of his morning shave on his jaw. “Has someone died?”

  Mr. Star’s hand hung frozen in the air for a moment as though he’d never seen someone in such disarray. His mouth flapped soundlessly like a confused fish. “Apologies, Mr. James,” he finally said. “Very sorry about the early call and the urgency, but I’ve gotten a message from New York for you.”

  “A message? How?”

  “By way of telegraph. I have a number of talents.” Mr. Star laughed nervously. “Most of which revolve around delivering things to people and trying to convince them to pay me upon receipt of said. At any rate, would you like me to read the message to you, or are you equipped to –”

  “You mean can I read? Yes I’m fine to read. Thank you, Mr. Star,” Father reached out to accept the
small, brown, folded paper. Almost at the same instant, Mr. Star touched the brim of his derby and turned on his heel to depart.

  With our visitor gone, I descended the stairs still in my nightclothes. “What is it father? Something urgent from the sound of things.”

  He shrugged. “It’s from Francis.”

  “Good news?” I asked.

  “Hardly.” His shoulders slumped visibly. “He says our latest railroad investment has gone rather badly.”

  From the way he was gnawing his mustache, ‘rather badly’ was a grand understatement. “Oh, too bad,” I said. “Is the loss worrying?”

  “It’s nothing.” He stuffed the envelope in his pocket. “I don’t mean to shush you, Clara. You’re a good girl, asking after your father’s business. In truth, it is quite bad. Very worrying, but nothing we can’t cure with a few thousand pounds of gold.”

  Father pursed his lips. He was too proud to admit just how worried he was, but I could easily tell. I patted him on the shoulder. “Well, what shall we do? Dress and get to the claim?”

  “You’re coming with me? I thought you had quite enough of being wet and sweaty and-”

  He was interrupted with another, less urgent, series of knocks.

  “Well I’ll be. Damned people showing up at all hours and,” he trailed off into a nearly inaudible series of grumbles. “I could really do without this sort of business of a morning,” he said to me before turning to the door and asking after who was knocking.

  “Eustace Rawls, calling, Mr. James. I brought some refreshments up from the inn’s buffet if you’re taken with a hunger.”

  A heavy sigh made my father’s shoulders rise almost to his ears before he exhaled with a groan. “Right, give me one moment, if you please. I’ve still got soap on my face.” Father wiped himself off, fixed his suspenders and answered the door with uncertain lethargy.

  “Good morning to you, sir!” Rawls was far less gruff than he’d been the last time I saw him, and far less drunk than the first time when he was being dragged about by his ear by the Sheriff Bullock.

  “Morning to you, Mr. Rawls,” Father nodded. “And to you, Ernie.”

 

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