Heaven in My Arms

by Colleen French

  "What advantage does any businessman see in a business proposition, but money?"

  She glanced at him. "You want to form a partnership so we can mine the claims together?"

  "The land was left to both of us. My understanding is that it can't be divided, but must be shared. I don't know what the hell John was thinking when he wrote the will like that, but what's done is done. We could split the profits straight down the middle." He made a cutting gesture with one hand. "Fair and square."

  "If there are profits," she amended. "But if we don't find gold?"

  "We can work the details out later." He rose from the swing and offered his hand to help her up. His tone was all businesslike, yet relaxed.

  Celeste climbed out of the swing without his assistance, a feeling of desperation tight in her chest. Suddenly she saw this venture as her only chance to survive whole. There had to be gold on John's land. There just had to be.

  Her satchel in his hand, he held the front door open for her. "But if there is no gold, I . . . I'd just have to return to San Francisco without the riches."

  She passed him in the doorway. And I'll have to return to whoring, she thought. An impossibility.

  Chapter Eight

  "Five-card draw, ladies and gents." Celeste dealt the cards with the ease of a riverboat gambler. "One-eyed jacks and the man with the ax are wild. Cost you two bits to play."

  Coins clinked in the center of the table in Kate's kitchen. It was Sunday afternoon and the usual gang was gathered. They had been meeting in Kate's kitchen on Sundays since the first week she'd opened the dance hall in Carrington six years ago. Back then, the town had been bustling. Gold had been found at Albert's Fork, and men traveled from as far as California to try their luck in the little gold-mining town. Like most gold booms, this one had not lasted long, and Carrington was soon just another occasional stop on the Colorado L&M Railroad.

  Celeste picked up her hand, but did not smile. No one really seemed to be interested in the game today; they played out of habit. It had been three weeks since Mealy Margaret's death, but a pall still hung over the usually jovial poker game.

  Celeste glanced over her dog-eared cards to Ace across the table. He was usually her greatest competition. He was studying his cards; the tip of his tongue hung out in concentration.

  Celeste often wondered what went on in Ace's head. The deaf-mute spent all of his time around half-dressed women, and yet, to anyone's knowledge, he'd never had a tumble. He had to be in his early twenties. Wasn't he attracted to women? Didn't he have the same urges other men did? Or had his sordid past left him unable to perform?

  Rosy threw down her cards. "Fold," she declared as she rose from her chair. "Say, Joash. You bring some of that cake your wife bakes?"

  "Gingerbread on the sideboard. Fresh whipped cream beside it." Joash sat arrow-straight in the chair beside Celeste, his fanned cards held tightly in his hand. "I'll take three." He discarded carefully.

  Celeste dealt from the top of the deck. "Tell me something, Joash." She moved on to Kate, who wanted three new cards as well. "Isn't there something in the Bible that warns against gambling?"

  "Excess. The good Lord warns us against excess in almost anything." He gazed at her over the rim of his wire-frame glasses. "But there are other sins, fleshly sins, that the Lord is quite clear upon."

  Celeste laughed good-naturedly. "You never give up, do you?"

  "I cannot. After all, it is your soul, all your souls"—he eyed the other women—"that I must be concerned for."

  "Never heard a man say he was interested in my soul before," Sally giggled from behind her cards. She was robed in a silky pink dressing gown with her hair pulled back in a pink ribbon. Without rouge or hair pomade she could have been someone's socialite daughter.

  "Pearl, what can I do for you?"

  Tall Pearl gave a sigh. "A redeal?"

  Celeste smiled. She liked Pearl. The woman was honest and earthy. She had been with Kate since the days in Denver. "Not a chance."

  "All right, then, if you're going to play like that, I'll take three." She started to discard and then raised the cards. "But good ones, mind you. I'll have no trash. I've been dealt three limp hands in a row." She tossed down her cards. "Which is better than three limp you-know-what's."

  The women and Titus all laughed. Ace never heard the joke. Joash sat stiff as always, his lips puckered. "Straight to hell," he murmured under his breath. "Straight to hell you'll all go."

  No one took offense to Joash's warning. They were used to his admonitions of doom. They were as much a part of the Sunday afternoon as Rosy's silk dressing gown, Mrs. Tuttle's cake, and Tall Pearl's risqué jokes.

  "Ace?" Celeste looked the young man directly in the eye so that he could read her lips. She had a soft spot in her heart for Ace.

  He tossed down two cards.

  Celeste passed him two fresh ones. Ace's gaze held hers for a moment, and she wondered once again what he was thinking. He seemed to be watching all the girls a lot lately.

  "Five," Sally said, slapping down her cards. "I'll take five. Say, where's that handsome man of yours? I mean, I understand why you don't let him out during the week, but why don't you bring him to play on Sundays?"

  "You can't have five, only four, Sally." She waited while Sally picked up her cards. "And he's not my man."

  Sally pouted prettily as she rearranged her hand. "I know that's what you say." She batted her eyelashes. On anyone else it would have seemed a silly gesture, but on Sally it was charming. "But everyone's buzzin' about the two of you head-in' off in Kate's wagon every morning and sometimes not comin' home 'til past dark." She peered over the fan of her cards. "You two gotta be doin' something all that time. 'Course I wondered what you did with the dog." She scrunched her forehead. "Does'e watch?"

  "We've been walking John's claim and panning the stream, and you know it. We think we may have found a place to run a shaft." Celeste dealt Titus three cards. "That was what I wanted to ask you about, Titus. You've got experience in the gold mines."

  "South Platte, Clear Creek, Gilpin County. " He spat a stream of brown tobacco into a tin at his feet. "Mostly done pannin'." He wiped his mouth with the back of his tobacco-stained hand.

  "But you have done some mining. Digging." As the two conversed, the players bid on their hands.

  "Done a shaft or two in my day. Never hit gold on my own, but I seen others hit it."

  "So you know what equipment we would need. You know the procedures."

  He tossed down his coins to stay in the hand. "Hell, if it's tools you want, John left his 'quipment in a stall at the livery. Just sittin' there, best I know."

  Ace called, and his full house beat Celeste's two pair. She passed the cards on to Kate, who had once again taken her seat, a dish of gingerbread and whipped cream in each hand. She licked her fingers and began to deal. Ace hauled in his coins.

  Celeste tucked a lock of freshly washed hair behind her ear. Since Fox's arrival, she'd taken great care with her appearance. He was the kind of man who noticed a new dress or a new hairstyle and complimented her. Celeste liked his attention; it made her feel feminine. It gave her back some of the confidence she had lost in the arms of strangers. "To tell you the truth, Titus, I was looking for more than just the equipment. I'm interested in your expertise."

  Titus cracked a broad grin, showing off his two gleaming, gold front teeth. "Is you, now?"

  They were playing seven-card draw. Kate passed out two cards down, a third up. Celeste bid her ace high. She had a second one laying face down in front of her. "I want to hire you to dig the shaft. I don't have a lot of cash, but if . . . when we hit gold, I'll offer you a percentage. My partner and I will."

  "Partner, is he?" Sally giggled. "Guess I heard every word in the book for it now."

  Celeste glared as Sally clamped her hand over her mouth.

  Celeste turned back to Titus. "The weather's good. You could get started tomorrow."

  "And what's yer partner say
on this?"

  "We're in agreement. We need to hire someone. We'll pay you enough to hire a helper. I know you like to throw work Petey's way."

  "When he's sober."

  "That's up to you. We just want to get to work right away."

  "Tell you the truth." Titus chomped on his tobacco. "I was su'prised to see that fancy pants stay as long as he has. Thought fer sure when he found out there weren't no money for him, he'd hightail it back to Cal-i-for-ni-a."

  Celeste was amazed as well that Fox had stayed this long. Surely he was bored with life in Carrington, as compared to the one he'd led in San Francisco. Of course, she liked to fantasize that he stayed because of her. "He says he needs to stick around and protect his interest in his father's land."

  "So 'e wouldn't sell it to ya?"

  The bid went around on the reverend's pair of deuces.

  "No. I tried, but he wouldn't sell."

  "He's smitten on you," Sally injected. "I just know he is. I can see that look in his eye."

  Celeste gave Sally a half smile. "Nonsense. He pays more attention to the dog than he does me. Of course he's full of opinions." She tossed a coin to the center of the table. "He didn't want me to come here today."

  "Just like a man." Kate took a big bite of the gingerbread, leaving whipped cream at the corners of her painted mouth. "Always wanting to control a woman. Any woman will do, even if he ain't got rights to her."

  They made their final bids. Celeste won two and a half dollars with three aces. As she swept the money up, she glanced at Titus. She didn't want to push him into doing something he didn't want to do, but she felt a sense of urgency. The longer she spent away from the dance hall, the more she knew she couldn't return. She just couldn't. "So are you in?"

  "Don't think I got anything on my social calendar come tomorrow." He spat. "But I'll check just the same and let you know, Missy." He winked.

  Celeste smiled. "I'm sure you can borrow Kate's wagon to haul the gear. How about we meet you out on the claim tomorrow morning, say nine?"

  "Guess I ought to be chargin' for that horse and buggy," Kate chided. "I'd be making better money than I am on these girls. I got more of a demand for wheels than heels." She chuckled at her own quip.

  Celeste pushed away from the table. "Hate to empty your pockets and run, but I'm off."

  "Would you like me to walk you home, Celeste?" Joash questioned. "I'm not sure that it's safe, a woman walking alone at night on these streets. I told Mrs. Tuttle she wasn't to go alone anymore after dark on her nursing visits. It's just not safe."

  Celeste smiled appreciatively. "I'll be fine, Joash. Really. Good night."

  "Good night," the poker players echoed as she stepped out the door.

  "You're a bald-faced liar." Celeste leaned back against the scrub pine and laughed merrily. "She didn't really swallow flaming swords."

  Seated beside her, Fox stretched out his long legs, covered in dusty denim. His arm brushed hers, radiating a tingling warmth. "Juggled lap dogs, too."

  "Sounds like she belongs in a circus instead of a whorehouse." Celeste was laughing so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. It wasn't that funny. She just couldn't help herself. She was so happy. It had been such a wonderful week.

  For six days in a row, each morning, Fox and Celeste had met Titus at John's claim. All day they walked the land and searched for likely places to tap for a gold vein. Titus had dug in three prime spots. So far they'd come up with nothing, but Celeste wasn't discouraged. Fox was such good company that the days flew by. Mostly they just talked and laughed together as they explored the land. Fox told her about his adventures in faraway countries, and Celeste told him about the interesting characters that had passed through the dance hall's swinging doors over the years.

  The attraction between Fox and Celeste was obvious to them both, and at some point during the week, they had come to some unspoken agreement. They had begun to touch each other in innocent ways. Fox would tuck a lock of her windblown hair behind her ear; Celeste would remove a smudge of dirt from Fox's cheek. They did little favors for each other, fetching a canteen of water, or a necessary tool, retrieving a bonnet from the wagon.

  Celeste knew the flirtation was dangerous. She knew what Fox ultimately wanted, and wanted for free. But the truth was, for the first time in her life, she wanted the same thing. Just once she wanted to make love with a man of her own choosing. She wanted to make love with a man she knew and cared for.

  True, she had known and liked John, but that hadn't been the same. The feelings hadn't been the same, nor so intense. He had never made her heart flutter or her pulse quicken the way Fox did.

  Fox lifted Celeste's hand in his and smoothed it. Both their hands were dusty. Funny how they fit together so well, Celeste thought.

  "I kid you not," Fox went on, still laughing about the juggling prostitute in the Parisian whorehouse. "And the dwarves. You should have seen them."

  Celeste laughed again and playfully pushed him with her shoulder. "There were no dwarf women."

  "Were too, honest, hope to die." He crossed his heart with his free hand.

  Still chuckling, Celeste shook her head. She liked this side of Fox, carefree and laughing. The other side of him she knew, the dark, brooding man, made her uncomfortable. Made her wonder how much John hadn't told her about his son.

  Fox looked out at the rolling, rocky terrain they shared. "Guess I'd best get back to work. Titus and Petey shouldn't be hauling that drill bit on their own." He kissed the back of her hand as if he did so often, and stood and pulled her up with him.

  Celeste's hand tingled where his lips had touched her skin.

  Instead of walking away, he lingered, standing in front of her, looking into her eyes.

  Celeste's stomach felt queasy, full of butterflies. Fox's hair was windblown, his face and hands dusty from the hard work of digging in the rock-hard Colorado soil. His sleeves were pushed up to bare muscular, suntanned forearms. The outdoors was so becoming to him that it was difficult for her to imagine him sitting at a desk in an office in San Francisco. It was difficult for her to imagine him returning there . . . leaving here.

  "Ah, Celeste," he breathed. "I swore to myself I'd resist your charms." He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "But I—"

  "I'm the kind of woman that makes a man hard-pressed to resist," she said softly. "That's the intention."

  His dark eyes, flecked with green in the sunlight, studied her face, searching . . . searching for something in her eyes. "I didn't mean it that way."

  "Pretending I'm not a whore doesn't change the fact," she said.

  "I know."

  "But just because I've been with other men doesn't mean I can't feel or care."

  He exhaled slowly and she felt his warm breath on her lips.

  "It's just that I swore to myself after Amber—" he said. "That was her name. I swore that I wouldn't become involved with another—" He cut himself off.

  So Amber had to be the dead woman. It was the first time he'd mentioned her name, except in his sleep. Was he implying that Amber had been a prostitute? Celeste was astonished, then realized she shouldn't be. Like father, like son.

  "Fox," Celeste whispered. "This is very complicated, not just for you, but for me. A woman like me . . . we're careful not to allow ourselves to become too attached."

  He stroked the corner of her mouth with his thumb. She inhaled the scent of him carried on a hot breeze.

  "Hard life to lead, never becoming attached."

  Celeste looked up into his dark-eyed gaze as she thought about Denver and who waited for her there. Tears clouded her eyes. Just the wind, she thought. She was wrong to want more than she had, but she wanted it just the same. "Let's stop trying to rationalize and just kiss me, Fox. I don't want to think, I don't want to—"

  He clamped his mouth down hard on hers, silencing her.

  Celeste raised her hands and slipped them around Fox's neck. Instinctively she pressed her body against his and her dusty
skirts tangled around his feet.

  He tasted of lemonade and sunshine. Of promise.

  Celeste parted her lips, felt the flick of Fox's tongue against hers. A sound came from her throat at the sensation she'd thought herself past feeling. Passion. She was overjoyed that it was only buried deep inside her rather than stolen, as her virginity had been all those years ago.

  "Celeste," Fox whispered, and she melted deeper in his arms.

  They kissed again. Their tongues delved deep as they explored. He ran his fingers through her hair, sending rivulets of sensation down her spine. Reluctantly, she drew back for breath.

  "Wow." He brushed back his forelock of thick hair.

  "Yeah," was all she could manage.

  Their gazes locked.

  "Ah, Fox, what are we doing?" She glanced away, focusing on a rock in a grassy patch. "This is a bad idea. For both of us."

  His tongue darted out to touch his upper lip, and she wondered if he could still taste her.

  "I don't know what the hell I'm doing." He tugged on his earlobe as he always did when he was uncomfortable. "All I know is that I'm attracted to you," he continued. "I keep telling myself no good can come of it. I just don't want you to—"

  "Hurt you like she did," she finished for him. She was beginning to understand now that it wasn't for moral reasons that he was troubled by her occupation. It went deeper.

  He didn't deny her words. "Look, I know you don't understand this. Me."

  She exhaled, expelling his breath with her own. He was right. She didn't understand how he could run so hot one minute, then cold the next. She had a feeling that it wasn't just because of Amber though. "I could try to understand," she said softly.

  "MacPhearson!" Titus appeared at the edge of the stand of trees where Fox and Celeste had been taking their lunch. "Me and Petey, we could use your help over here, if yer done with your dinin'."

  "Coming." Fox picked up the battered felt hat that had once been his father's. It fit him nicely. He avoided eye contact as he spoke to her. "You rest in the shade. I'll give the men a hand." He strode away.

  "Wait." She scooped up his leather work gloves from the Indian blanket they'd been sitting on. "You'll need these."