Deanna Tompkins

by Blue Mountain Passion

  Blue Mountain

  Passion

  DEANNA SUE TOMPKINS

  Copyright © 2012 Deanna Sue Tompkins

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13: 978-1490333946

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, who believes in me when I can’t. Thank you for being my soft place to fall.

  PROLOGUE

  October 14, 1874

  Cole McAllister sat motionless, the wide rim of his black Stetson pulled low to shadow his face. His gaze never wavered from the three men who sat two tables away. Their words became increasingly slurred as they passed a bottle of cheap whiskey around the table. He’d spent the last thirty minutes feigning indifference while every word they spoke etched an unwelcome picture in his head.

  A slender man with carrot red hair and a face full of freckles took a swig from the bottle. "She was... good," he claimed as he passed the bottle to his right. "Best… I ever had."

  "I've had me better," a second man boasted. His grin revealed a large gap where two teeth should have been. "Guess I've had me... worse, too."

  A third man's raucous laugh echoed through the near empty saloon. He was as big around as he was tall. He belched, waving his hand through the air to rid it of his foul odor. "She's the only woman you ever had, Jim." The fat man tipped the bottle to his lips and poured the amber liquid down his throat.

  Cole stood and removed his hat. He placed it beside his half full glass of scotch on a small, round table. His boots clanked with a slow, precise rhythm against the dusty wood floor as he approached the men.

  "Excuse me." Cole stood tall, confident beyond his eighteen years. Three sets of eyes focused on him. "I overheard you talking about a woman."

  Suspicion clouded the eyes of the red haired man. "So... what's it to you?"

  "So," Cole ran his fingers through his thick, black hair. "Who is she?"

  A lewd grin lit up the man's blood shot hazel eyes. "Why? You want a taste of 'er yourself?"

  Cole rubbed his thumb along his jaw. "Maybe."

  The man stood, wobbled, then straightened. He tilted his head back to meet Cole's gaze. "Doubt you'll 'ave any... luck with her." The man's eyes narrowed. "She likes 'em a bit uglier." His face split into a big grin. His breath reeked of liquor.

  Cole remained aloof, distant. He must be mistaken. Sam couldn't have slept with vermin like these. "I'll take my chances."

  The man stuck his thumbs into his front pockets. His gaze took on a hue of consideration. "I reckon you would."

  "What's her name?" Cole repeated. He was seconds away from physical persuasion.

  The man squared his shoulders in an effort to equal Cole’s height. “Samantha Montano,” he answered, his response eliciting snickers from the other two men.

  Cole staggered back. His gut felt like he’d been stabbed by a dagger. The man's voice faded in and out and Cole barely caught his next words.

  "We had ourselves Jake Montano's daughter," he bragged.

  Fury blended with disbelief as Cole absorbed the truth. He slammed his fist into the man's jaw. The crunch of knuckles against bone rewarded him. A rickety table bore the brunt of the man's fall. Cole pivoted to face the other two men, jaw clenched, fists formed and ready. They slid off their bar stools and shook their heads.

  "We want no trouble from you, mister," Jim claimed before heading toward the exit. His friend followed close on his heels.

  Cole didn't spare a glance for the man on the floor as he retrieved his Stetson. He dug a wad of bills from his pocket and tossed them to the bartender. "For damages." He strode out a set of swinging wood doors onto the dusty streets of Craig, Colorado. He spotted Stephen from the corner of his eye but kept moving forward.

  "Cole, where are you going?" Stephen called after him.

  Cole ignored his identical twin as he turned and headed toward his tethered horse.

  Stephen broke into a jog. "Wait up."

  Cole felt Stephen's fingers close around his arm. He spun and punched Stephen in the nose. Blood spurted, staining his shirt.

  Stephen doubled over, catching a stream of blood in the palm of his hand. He tilted his gaze up towards Cole, his eyes a mixture of confusion and anger. "What the hell did you do that for?"

  “Damn.” Cole reached toward his brother.

  Stephen backed away. "Leave it." He dropped his hand to his side. Blood trickled from his fingertips. "What gotten you so riled?"

  Anguish gutted Cole's insides. "Nothing I can't handle." He barely recognized the raw, hoarse whisper as his own voice. "I have to go."

  Stephen's stance was wide, unyielding. "Not until you tell me what's eating at you," he said.

  Cole couldn't share what he suspected, not even with Stephen, until he had proof. "This isn't your concern."

  Stephen's lips thinned. He crossed his arms in front of him. "It became my concern when you nearly broke my nose," he claimed.

  Cole spun away and with a few quick strides was at his horse. He mounted, adjusting the reins before staring down at his brother. "I'll be at Jake's."

  Surprise widened Stephen's blue eyes. "You can't go there alone. The man will kill you."

  "He might try," Cole agreed.

  Stephen grasped the reins, near his muzzle. "Why are you going to Jake's?"

  Cole sat stiff and erect in his saddle. "I'll explain later."

  Stephen held firm. "I'm getting Pa," he threatened.

  "I can handle this on my own."

  "That's what you said when Jake accused you of stealing his horses." Stephen's voice dropped in volume, his tone harsh. "If it weren't for Pa, you'd be in jail right now, or more likely dangling from a tree."

  "This is different."

  "It's never different when it comes to Jake," Stephen declared, his jaw set. "The man has no scruples. "

  Cole could feel the tension building between his shoulder blades. "I found Sam."

  Stephen's stance relaxed. "Thank God."

  "She's Jake's daughter."

  Stephen dropped the reins and stared, open mouthed and silent.

  Cole turned his horse. "I won't be home until tomorrow." Cole rode off, leaving a trail of dust, and his brother, behind.

  His mind drifted to the conversation he'd overheard moments before in the saloon. Those men had described Sam to perfection, from her fiery red hair to wide blue eyes, and the birthmark. Cole's throat ached with defeat. Those men knew about the small, heart shaped birthmark on Sam's inner thigh. She'd lied about her identity. All evidence pointed against her.

  Cole's thoughts drifted back to the day he'd met Sam. She had arrived on the Tuesday stage with the intent to purchase a stretch of McAllister land. Her father was ill, she'd explained, and he'd sent her to negotiate a fair price. Her rare beauty and smooth, husky voice had captured Cole's interest. Her laughter had warmed his heart. Her wit had amused him. Three days after he'd met her, she disappeared. She never bought the land.

  Cole had feared for her life, thought she'd been kidnapped or killed. Never had he believed she'd intentionally disappeared. That she had hidden herself less than a days ride from his ranch, less than an hours ride from his present location.

  Doubt plagued Cole as he struggled between the image of the innocent woman he'd fallen in love with and the woman he now knew to be Jake Montano's daughter. He'd been her first. Undisputed proof lay in the blood stained sheets he himself had disposed of after making love to her. He'd had one night with her. One night to treasure through three months of tormented searching. A search he would end today.

  As he neared the Montano ranch, Cole slowed, alert and focused. He passed several hundred cattle grazing in overgrown pastures. Others waded in shallow, muddy ponds fed from the creek that flow
ed along the south end of the property.

  A massive, two story mauve house with finely carved white trim sat in the middle of a large clearing just ahead. A full acre was devoted to neatly trimmed bushes, flower gardens, planted pine trees and well maintained yard. A white picket fence bordered the grounds.

  Cole progressed down a narrow dirt road that led to the house. He passed several ranch hands, but kept his attention focused ahead. He stopped beside a white painted porch, which wrapped around one side of the house then disappeared around the back corner. A wide set of stairs led to the front door.

  Cole slipped from his saddle and approached the home. He felt a brief second of hesitation, but shook it off and took the stairs two at a time. He raised his hand to knock, but lowered it as the door opened without any prompt.

  Jake Montano, a tall, lean man in his mid-forties with light gray eyes, thinning silver hair and a long mustache stood before him.

  Cole felt his resentment rise as he faced Jake. He quelled it. Now was not the time to lose control. "We need to talk."

  Without a word Jake pivoted and walked away. Cole followed him into a massive two story room. A balcony ran full length across one end of the room, exiting onto a curved staircase that ended at his feet. A quick glance around the room assured Cole they were alone. He faced Montano. "I'm here to speak to Samantha," he stated, getting straight to the point.

  Jake's expressionless gray eyes never wavered. He stood motionless, silent.

  Cole forced a calm he didn't feel. "Three months ago I met your daughter,” Cole searched Jake’s eyes but only got a blank stare for his efforts. With a deep, ragged breath, Cole continued, “I fell in love with her."

  A hint of emotion appeared on Jake’s face yet his voice remained even. "Get out of my house."

  Cole realized how little merit his confession had with Jake. "I won't go until I've spoken to Sam." About to push his way past Jake, Cole heard the rustle of material above him. He lifted his eyes toward the balcony. Sam stood there in the same yellow dress she'd worn the night he'd made love to her. He felt the full force of her betrayal.

  Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. "Cole, why are you here? What are you telling my father?"

  Cole allowed a nasty chuckle to escape from his lips. "Your father, Sam?" He'd been such a fool. He returned his gaze to Jake. "Let me talk to her, alone."

  Jake stood his ground, his expression grim. "Never."

  "Cole, I want you to go," Sam insisted as she leaned over the railing.

  Cole stiffened. Her words hurt more than he could have imagined. "Not until we talk."

  "I won't talk to you." Her voice shook. "Not now. Not like this." She turned to flee.

  "I met three men today, Sam." Cole was pleased by his strong, even tone. His insides were twisted in agony.

  Sam spun to face him. Her hands were white where they gripped the handrail.

  "They claim you've lain with them."

  Sam's eyes mirrored her guilt for a mere second. It was long enough. Cole felt numb. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Until this very moment he'd held onto the faint hope of Sam's innocence.

  "Let me explain, Cole."

  Cole turned from her pleading voice as bile rose in his throat. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies, Sam."

  "Please, Cole, those men, they,"

  "No!" Cole felt his fingernails cut into his palms. He forced his gaze to rest on Jake.

  "Samantha is a virgin. She has lain with no man," Jake claimed in a raspy whisper.

  "Pa, I can explain." Sam's voice rose and cracked. "None of it is true. I swear it isn't."

  "Do you also swear you haven't lain with me, Sam?" Cole inflicted pain with his scathing tone.

  Sam's hands shook as she covered her face. "Cole, don't do this. You can't possibly think... you don't understand." She dropped her hands to her side and moved toward the stairs. She descended two steps, then paused as Jake approached her with slow, methodical movements.

  "Is what he says true, Samantha? Did you sleep with Cole McAllister?"

  Cole felt a pang of guilt as Sam's frightened blue eyes darted between him and her father.

  "Pa, please, calm down. I can explain."

  Jake planted his feet on the same step as his daughter and caught her in a cruel grip. "Answer me!" he demanded.

  Sam's shoulder's shook with silent sobs. "You don't understand. It happened when you sent me to buy up the McAllister's land. I didn't mean for it to. I swear."

  It took all Cole's strength to remain upright as Sam's words washed over him. It had been a set up from the start.

  Jake's expression turned cynical. "You slept with him and still came back empty handed?"

  Tears flowed freely down Sam's pale cheeks. "I tried to do what you wanted, pa. I promise."

  Jake shook his head. "I never should have trusted you. You're a whore, just like your mother." Jake's upper lip raised in a snarl, "You couldn't wait to fall into Cole McAllister's bed."

  Cole wanted to tear Jake apart, limb by limb, but doubts plagued him. Sam appeared guilty of everything Jake accused her of.

  "It's wasn't like that," Sam protested. "I love him, pa."

  Jake hit her, hard. Her head snapped back. Tears coursed down her cheeks. "You whore! You betrayed me. I will never forgive you. Never."

  Jake's expression changed. His eyes glazed over, seemed unfocused. He snarled and tightened his grip.

  A cry of pain escaped from Sam's trembling lips.

  Cold fury raged within Cole as he witnessed Jake's brutality. Fear for Sam forced him into action. Cole rushed toward the stairs, but was too late.

  Jake flung Sam from his arms, his gray eyes never wavering from his daughter as she tumbled down the stairs. She screamed once, then all was silent.

  Cole stared at the crumpled form at his feet. The front door flung open and Stephen rushed in, followed by their pa.

  "What the hell happened here?" Stephen bent over Sam, his fingers against her neck as he searched for a pulse. He glanced up. "She's dead."

  Cole's legs shook as he knelt beside Sam. She'd hit her head and blood seeped from the wound. Cole noticed her head was tilted at an odd angle. He reached out to straighten it. Stephen grasped his arm.

  "Leave her, Cole. There's nothing you can do."

  Sam wasn't breathing. Her eyes were open, her stare blank. Guilt warred with anguish as Cole's gaze fixed on the streaks of tears still wet on her cheeks.

  "I want you to go outside," Judd McAllister ordered.

  Cole stood, barely even acknowledging his pa’s presence as he left without argument. His legs wobbled as he made his way outside.

  He mounted his horse with the automatic motions of one who'd done it a thousand times before. Sam had lied about her identity. She'd slept with other men. Her entire reason for being with him had been a pretense to trick him into selling land to Jake. Still, he hadn't wanted her to die.

  Hollow footsteps echoed against the wooden floor of the porch as his Pa exited the house and approached him. Judd's face was tense, his jaw set. "Jake claims what happened today was an accident. He's agreed to leave town."

  Cole opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. There was no point. He couldn't prove Jake a murderer.

  Judd mounted his horse. "I don't want another word uttered over this incident. It's over."

  Cole turned from his father's intent stare. It would never be over. The woman he'd loved was dead. His life would never be the same again.

  *

  Anthony Montano stood and stretched his cramped muscles. He bent and brushed his palm across the knee of his pants in an effort to remove the dust he'd collected from crouching in the storage closet. He’d scrambled in there when he heard Cole’s voice at the door, not wanting to miss the action when his pa came face to face with one of the McCallister brothers. He absently swept a cobweb from his cinnamon brown hair and with the awkwardness of any fourteen year old, approached the body that had been his sister. />
  He wanted to turn away from Samantha's lifeless form, but he didn't. He knelt beside her, his pale, almost colorless blue eyes studying her in fascination . He'd never seen a dead person before. He reached out and touched her arm. It was still warm, but moved as if it had no bones, no muscle. Her face was so pale that her blue eyes looked odd, out of place. Anthony ran his thumb and finger over them. Her lids closed, her long dark lashes resting against her cheek, as they did in sleep.

  A loud slam and clanking of footsteps alerted Anthony to his father’s return. He slipped quickly from the room and the further he walked, the angrier he became. Cole McAllister was to blame for this. Pa hadn't had one of his spells in months. If Cole hadn't shown up and accused Sam of those awful things, she would still be alive. Anger turned to rage. He knew what he had to do.

  CHAPTER ONE

  May 11, 1882

  Cole stood and lifted his arms above his head in a long, lazy stretch. He winced as his weary muscles protested the action. He couldn't wait to replace his rawhide saddle and bedroll for a soft pillow and cotton sheets. Still hours from home, he and Stephen had slept on McAllister land last night, and that had been motivation enough for him to rise early.

  Cole watched as Stephen stumbled from his bed roll. "I've decided not to start a fire this morning. I thought we'd make do with dried beef and biscuits."

  "I don't care what we do." Stephen scratched his head and frowned up at the sky. "What time is it, anyway?"

  "Sun's up," Cole replied.

  “Barely,” Stephen complained.

  "Want to take a quick dip before we leave?" It was a routine they seldom swayed from, except in the coldest of winter.

  Stephen plodded with obvious reluctance toward the creek.

  "Race you." Cole pushed past him. With a firm tug he removed his wrinkled shirt and tossed it to the ground.

  "Wait a minute," Stephen muttered, fumbling with the buttons of his long underwear and attempting to run at the same time. “No fair, you got a head start,” he yelled to the quickly departing back of his brother.

  Cole unfastened his Levi's and grinned back at him. "You've been slow since the day you were born."