"Thank you. I feel badly turning away men who've come so far. It will be nice to send them packing with a little encouraging information."
As they turned onto shady Plum Street, Celeste found herself talking easily with Mr. Trevor. He knew a great deal about the silver mining industry. Apparently he hadn't heard of her sordid past and spoke to her with respect. He obviously found her attractive by the way he looked at her, but he was nothing but polite and considerate.
Celeste stopped at her front porch and held out her arms to accept the remainder of her packages. "Thank you so much for your help."
"You're welcome. Have a good day." He didn't ask to come in or indicate he expected any further contact with her. He tipped his hat with a slight bow and started back the way they'd come.
Celeste slipped into the house where Fox and her dog would be waiting for her.
"Seven-card stud, ladies and gents," Big Nose Kate said as she dealt.
"Wild?" Celeste asked as she picked up her cards.
"Nothin' but me, sweetheart."
Kate laughed and Sally, Titus, Celeste, and Sheriff Tate laughed with her. Ace didn't laugh because he didn't hear the joke. Reverend Tuttle pretended not to hear.
"So how's life in the big silver mine?" Tate asked, his words slightly garbled by the wad of chew in his mouth.
Celeste retrieved another card. "Hell. Nothing is as easy as it sounds. We've got a tunnel that keeps flooding. We can't get the ore up and out of the shaft as quickly as we need to. The freighters won't haul it overland, and we need to have men guarding the claims twenty-four hours a day to keep claim jumpers away."
"Oh!" Tate moaned dramatically. "The troubles with bein' rich. We all feel so sorry for you, dear."
Celeste frowned. "You're right, I ought to count my blessings." She studied her hand. "So, Sally," she said casually. "What's this I hear about you gettin' yourself a man?"
Silky Sally giggled. She was dressed in a slim lilac gown with her hair tied up in tiny rags all over her head. "Name's Noah. Noah Patterson." She peered over the edge of her cards. "Says he wants to marry me." She giggled again. "Brings me presents. Pays for my whole night come Saturdays."
Celeste arched her eyebrows. "Goodness. Is he serious?"
She lifted one delicate shoulder. "I'm hopin'."
"Well, ain't that sweet?" Kate complained as she folded. "I won't have any of my old crew then, unless I'm plannin' on putting Ace here in silk stockings."
Everyone at the table laughed but Ace and Joash.
"Now, Kate." Celeste tossed in two coins. "I understand you've brought in two new ladies just this week to go with the three that came last week."
"It's not the same." Kate took a big bite of Mrs. Tuttle's peach turnover. Flaky crumbs clung to the corners of her painted mouth. "Not the same, and you know it. It'll never be the same without you, and Rosy, and if Sally goes and—"
"And Tall Pearl dead," Sally said softly.
Everyone turned their gazes on Sally.
"I got me a mind to get out of this town while the gettin's good," she continued.
Celeste touched her friend's arm and wondered if Sally had a premonition. The killer was preying heavily on Celeste's mind these days, keeping her up at night, as Fox's ghosts did. "Are you afraid, Sally?"
"Not really." She folded. "I just decided I want to change my occupation. I want to be the wife of a wealthy miner."
"Because if you are afraid, you should get out," Celeste said. "Get out now."
"Hey!" Kate glared at Celeste from across the table, half in jest, half-serious. "That's my livelihood you're shoo-flyin'. Sally's my most popular girl."
Celeste glanced back at Sally. Titus had taken the pot with a sweet pair of kings. "I'm serious. If you want out, you pack up today. Bunk with your man or come to my house."
"Aw . . . that's sweet of you." Sally smiled her angel smile. "But I ain't ready to go anywhere yet. I got my Noah, but I still got my regulars, too. I want to leave this place with some money of my own. I don't want Noah ever throwin' it in my face that he rescued a poor girl from makin' a livin' on her back."
The sheriff chuckled as he shuffled the cards. "A man willing to marry a whore." He shook his head with a sneer. "What's this damned world coming to?"
Chapter Seventeen
With a sigh, Celeste sank into the settee in the parlor and put one dusty boot up on the arm, not caring if she soiled the emerald velvet. She rubbed the persistent ache in the small of her back. She'd been working at the mine since dawn.
Fox was still there. There'd been a problem with the pumps that brought the water out of the tunnel, and it had to be repaired before mining could be resumed. The mine had had to be evacuated twice because of the near boiling water that kept rising from the rock.
She sighed and brushed back the stray hair that fell from her chignon and over her face. She rubbed her itchy nose. She was filthy. Even though she rarely actually went down into the mine, she came home each night covered in a thin layer of dust. It was in her hair and up her nose. She could taste it in her mouth. Celeste appreciated the financial security the mine would provide, but she was quickly discovering that she didn't care for the business itself.
The work was filthy and dangerous to the miners. Though she and Fox paid their workers very well, she still felt guilty for sending them down into that steamy black hole. Twenty-four hours a day, they worked in nothing but cut-off long johns, digging and hauling her silver ore in temperatures that sometimes rose five degrees with every thousand feet of tunnel. Last week Fox had ordered that ice be shipped in each day. A room had been built off one of the veins of the tunnel to hold the ice. Men could go there to cool off, get a drink, and find their breath.
Silver wandered into the parlor and Celeste patted her thigh. "Come here, boy. Come on, old boy. Are you as tired as I am?" Though she and Fox took the dog with them to the mine each day, if Celeste left first, Silver always accompanied her home for safety. Fox insisted on it.
The dog licked her hand and wagged his tail with delight as she stroked his back.
"You poor thing. You're as dirty as I am. Better stop riding those buckets down with Fox."
The yellow mutt slumped against the settee as she scratched behind his ears.
"Better stay up above with me," she crooned. "Too hot down there, and dirty. Don't you know those men have explosives? A doggy like you ought to have better sense."
Silver's ears perked and he turned away from her to look toward the doorway that led into the foyer.
Celeste glanced up. Maybe Fox was home. He had said he wouldn't be much longer, but he'd sent her home because she looked so tired.
"Someone there?" she asked the dog.
Silver rose off the blue and green carpet sprinkled with roses.
A knock sounded at the door.
Celeste frowned. Who in heaven could that be? It was too late for anyone from Kate's to be calling. They were working. And Fox didn't knock. He had a key.
"Coming," she called out as she dragged herself off the settee. She hoped it wasn't another miner looking for work, but she knew it was. Not only did they come to the mine, but now that it had been operating for three months, they were finding her home as well.
"I'm sorry," she said as she unlatched the door. "We're not hiring. I can give you the name of a gentleman who—" As she swung open the door she was surprised to see Brent Trevor standing on her porch with fall flowers in one hand and his hat in the other. She wasn't really in the mood for a visitor, but at least it wasn't another man looking for work.
"Good evening, Miss Kennedy."
She leaned on the doorjamb.
Silver stood beside her in the doorway and growled deep in his throat.
Celeste lowered her hand to the dog's head. "It's all right, boy." She smiled tiredly at Brent. "Good evening."
She'd run into Mr. Trevor often in the last few weeks. Occasionally, he came by her office or stopped by the mine. She saw him at church, in the s
tores, and on the street. He was always pleasant and friendly—a little friendlier than Celeste thought was perhaps appropriate. Surely he had heard by now that she lived, and no doubt slept, with her business partner, Fox MacPhearson. Surely he knew by now that she was a tainted woman. What would his mother think?
"These are for you." He thrust out the flowers.
She took them. "Well, thank you. How kind."
He glanced up at the sky. "Beautiful night tonight. Cool air coming out of the mountains. I think winter may come early."
She glanced up at the starry sky. It was a beautiful night. "Um, would you care to come in?" She didn't really feel like company. She felt like a cup of tea and a biscuit, a warm bath, and bed, preferably in Fox's arms. But she didn't want to be rude.
"Well, just for a moment. I wanted to stop by and see how that piece of equipment I sent over was working out."
She stepped into the foyer and Trevor followed. Silver backed up, his ears pricked, his teeth bared. Though he made no sound, it was obvious he didn't care for Mr. Trevor.
Celeste thought it strange that he hadn't contacted Fox about the equipment. After all, Fox had made the arrangements. Celeste had only heard about it through him. "I appreciate you sending us the bit. We've got another one coming by week's end." She set the flowers down on the shelf beneath the mirror that hung in the foyer and smoothed her dusty gown. "You'll have to excuse my appearance. I've just now arrived home. Would you care to sit down?" She motioned to the parlor, half hoping he'd decline.
"I'd be charmed."
He followed her into the parlor and took a seat on the settee, making an event of leaving room for her.
Celeste chose the horsehair chair opposite the settee. There was something about Brent Trevor that made her uncomfortable, though she had no idea why. He was such a pleasant man. Once upon a time she would have welcomed such a man's attention. A benefactor like Trevor could, in her working days, have made a woman like her quite comfortable. Occasionally a whore even caught such a man for a husband. But after knowing Fox, after caring for him as she did, Celeste knew she could never be happy with a man like Trevor.
"Working at the mine again today, you say?" Trevor removed his thin leather gloves. "A pretty woman like yourself has no business at a mine. What kind of man is Mr. MacPhearson that he demands such of you?"
Celeste looked up through a veil of lashes. "I choose to go to the mine each day, Mr. Trevor."
"Oh, please." He raised a palm. "Call me Brent. And I'd be flattered if you'd allow me to call you by your Christian name. Celeste. How heavenly."
Celeste had spent too much time with men not to know when they crossed the line between a genuine compliment and false flattery. That was what annoyed her about Brent. He didn't seem quite genuine. Celeste smiled coolly. "As I was saying, Brent. I go to the site because it's half mine, as is half the responsibility. It would be unfair to my partner if I didn't accept that responsibility. And you know yourself that the operation always runs smoother when the owner is there."
"True. True." He set down his hat and gloves beside him on the settee. "But a woman in such a filthy, crude environment. Why Mother hasn't been to my mine once since her arrival in Carrington."
"And how is your digging going? I saw that you sank a shaft the first week . . . very close to my property line."
She could have sworn he flinched.
He smiled grandly and chuckled. "Now aren't you the clever one, Celeste? And so knowledgeable about the business. A refreshing quality in a woman so beautiful. So . . . engaging."
Celeste glanced at the clock that ticked over the mantel. It was after nine and she was exhausted.
He looked at the clock. "Oh, goodness, it is late, isn't it? And I suppose you are tired after your long day."
She rose. "I'm sorry not to be good company, but I'm rather worn out." She walked toward the foyer, leaving Trevor with no choice but to politely follow.
He caught up to her at the door. "It was so nice to see you, Celeste. So nice to spend a few moments with an educated woman like yourself. Since my arrival in Carrington, I've not had the pleasure of the company of women like yourself, except for Mother, of course." He sighed. "And I do so yearn for an evening's respite from the work at the mine."
Celeste opened the door for him. In her boots, she was two inches taller than he was. He halted in the door very close to her. Too close to suit Celeste.
"Which brings me to my actual reason for this call."
Ah ha! she thought. At last the reason. "And that is?"
"Why, to ask you to the show and dinner Friday night. I understand The Grand Hotel has brought in a fine troupe of actors and that the comedy is quite amusing." He tried to take her hand, but she was too fast for him.
Celeste tucked her hands neatly behind her. "I'm sorry, Brent, but I can't possibly." She smiled sweetly. Never give a reason, her well-bred mother had taught her. Simply decline a gentleman's offer with a sweet smile.
He glanced down at his shiny black shoes. She had taken him unaware. The little twit had apparently expected her to melt in his arms.
"If you have another engagement—"
"I'm sorry, but I'm"—she cleared her throat delicately and then looked directly into his eyes—"unavailable." She could see that he was obviously annoyed with her now.
"Mr. MacPhearson?"
"Yes."
He pressed his hand to the doorjamb. "Might I speak frankly, Celeste?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Please."
"It is not that I have not heard of your . . . past. I know full well where you once worked and what your vocation was."
She made no response.
"I've come as an honest, humble man. Your past is unimportant to me. Unlike Mr. MacPhearson, though, my intentions are honorable. Do you understand what I'm trying so delicately to say?"
Celeste wasn't sure whether she was annoyed or amused. "No, I don't think I do."
"I'm saying that I'm interested in courting you . . . with honest intentions. I would not expect any display of your affection without proper . . . without marriage, Miss Kennedy."
She almost laughed aloud. "I'm sorry, Brent. I'm flattered by your honesty and your interest, but I can't accept this invitation or any future invitations." She smiled. "I hope you understand."
He forced a smile in return and dropped his hat on his head. "I . . . I see."
"But thank you for the flowers," she called after him as she crossed the porch. "And do call again, when Mr. MacPhearson is available to visit as well."
Brent's head was down so low that he nearly collided with Fox at the end of the sidewalk.
"Trevor!"
Started, Brent glanced up. "Mr.—Mr. MacPhearson." He tipped his hat nervously as if he'd been caught with his hand in the licorice jar. "I . . . I was just calling on Miss Kennedy. Good to see you." He passed Fox. "Good evening."
Fox met her in the foyer and closed the door behind him. "What the hell was he doing here?" He glanced at the flowers on the shelf. "And why's he bringing you flowers?" He yanked off his hat and tossed it onto the hook. He was as dusty and tired as she was.
Celeste smiled, secretly pleased. Fox was jealous. Celeste had always despised any sign of jealousy in a man in the past, but this was different. Maybe because she'd never before wanted to be possessed. "Oh, he just wanted to see how the drill bit was working out."
"And he couldn't have asked me when he came by to see me an hour ago?" He rubbed his temples tiredly. "He must have hightailed it here to beat me."
So Trevor had known she would be here alone. How interesting. "Oh," she said casually. "He also came by to ask me to The Grand."
"He what?" Fox's head snapped up.
"He asked me to the show and to dinner. He was quite gallant." She batted her eyelashes.
Fox glared. "You accept?"
She laughed. "No."
"Good. Because the man is an imbecile, and I don't trust him as far as I can toss him. His or
e is coming up awfully clean and his shaft is awfully close to ours."
"You think he's stealing from us underground? Could he have tunneled that far already?"
"I don't think he could make it that far, but my guess is that he's considering it. He's been too nosy about what's been coming out of our shaft, and which direction we're tunneling next."
She sighed, reached out, and rubbed his shoulder. Fox often worked with the men in the mine, shoveling ore beside them. Occasionally he set the blasts of dynamite that drove a tunnel deeper. The danger of the work constantly worried Celeste, but Fox felt that he couldn't ask the men to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself.
"Want something to eat before you bathe?" she asked, still rubbing his tired shoulders.
He shook his head. "Nah. Too tired to be hungry." His gaze met hers. "I can't believe he asked you to go to The Grand with him!"
"He said I was an engaging female."
"Right. What the flea was thinking was that you were about to become a rich female," he said sarcastically.
"Why, Fox MacPhearson, I think you're jealous."
He grasped her around the waist and pulled her roughly to him. "Damned right, I am." He kissed the pulse of her throat where he knew she liked to be kissed.
"Oh, don't, Fox. I'm filthy."
He kissed a trail along her collarbone as he pulled her double-breasted bodice down over her shoulders. "Not any dirtier than I am."
"I know." She struggled, but only halfheartedly. "But I don't like you to see me like this. I probably smell as bad as those miners."
"I can remedy that." He took her hand and led her down the hallway.
"You can?" She wondered what had gotten into him now.
"Water heated in the hot storage tank?"
"Yes. I was getting ready to take a bath when Trevor stopped by."
He pushed into the bathroom that was as modern as any in Denver. It had been John's pride and joy.
"I must be dirty if you're this insistent on seeing I get a bath."
Inside, Fox took her by the arms and backed her into a chair. He went down on one knee. "Give me your boots."
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