by Linda Ladd
For the rest of the day, Elizabeth avoided any but the most casual contact with Logan, and he was careful not to upset her further. The encounter in the shady glade above the brook haunted Elizabeth's every thought, and Logan's attention rarely left his beautiful wife. They ate the lunch of ham and sweet bread that Maria had provided, and afterward, Elizabeth and Lily removed their stockings and joined Rachel and Amanda where they waded in the shallows.
“You're very quiet,” Michael commented to Logan as they sat together beneath a tree watching the women. “Did you and Elizabeth have a falling-out?”
Logan shook his head. “We did all right until you got here.”
“I had a feeling we showed up at the wrong time.”
“That's an understatement.”
Michael grinned at his son's despondent expression.
“Is she any closer to remembering you?”
Logan shook his head.
“Perhaps it won't be long now,” Michael said, and Logan watched as Elizabeth lifted her skirts to wade deeper. His throat dried as the water washed over her legs, wetting her thighs.
“It had better be soon, because I won't last much longer,” he groaned, and Michael laughed at him.
Logan's voice was low. “She's just so damn beautiful. It's been this way since the first day I saw her. And when she was taken from me...”
His voice dwindled, as if he could not put his pain into words. They lapsed into silence then, and Michael's gaze rested almost as exclusively on Logan's Indian housekeeper as his son's did on Elizabeth. He was admiring the way her ebony hair glinted blue in the sunlight when he turned at Logan's low laugh.
“If the expression on your face is any indication of how you feel about Lily, you have woman trouble as bad as I do.”
He grinned at Michael's sigh. “I can't seem to get her to talk to me. Even when I try, she makes excuses to get away from me.”
“I know how you feel,” Logan said glumly, and they turned their attention back to the women splashing in the water.
The sun hung low in the sky when they packed the wagon, and Elizabeth did not dare trust herself to ride upon Logan's steed. She insisted upon mounting the mare, and Logan untied it from the wagon and lifted her to the saddle. Even the casual contact sent a tingling through her, and she rode close to the rear of the wagon, where she could listen to the girls excited chatter. It did not take her long to realize she'd definitely ridden before. She handled the mare instinctively with sure, capable hands, feeling at home in the saddle.
Logan rode behind her with the boys, watching her slim hips sway with the gentle movement of the mare, wondering if she'd ever let him touch her again. The thought was depressing, and he was growing less confident he could last until the ball.
By the time they reached Woodstone, it was nearly dusk, and Logan dismounted in front of the house, then lifted Elizabeth down. He wanted to talk to her, but she avoided him and stepped away as soon as he released her.
“Logan, look,” Zack called from his horse, and Logan turned to see a horse galloping down the road toward them.
“Who's that?” Michael asked, and Logan frowned when he recognized the rider.
“It looks like Parker.”
Seconds later, the lathered horse reached them, and Logan grabbed the bridle, frowning as Parker nearly fell into his arms. His face looked gray with exhaustion, and Logan supported the old man as Jacob led the horse away.
“What's happened, Parker?”
“Fire,” Parker gasped out. “Denver's on fire!”
His words brought gasps all around, as Logan questioned him quickly. “What about the house?”
“It's right in the path of it. I tried to get enough men to move the furniture out if it gets to us.”
“Is Agatha all right?”
Parker nodded. “Yes, she's with friends. I came as fast as I could.”
“We'd better get you inside.”
Parker nodded tiredly, then smiled weakly as he saw Elizabeth.
“This is my wife, Elizabeth,” Logan said to him quickly. “She came out from St. Louis with my father.”
Parker looked confused, but Logan's warning had registered, and he said politely, “It's a pleasure, ma'am.”
Elizabeth nodded, sensing undercurrents she couldn't explain, but there was no time to dwell on it as Lily sent Rachel and Amanda running for food and drink for the weary traveler. Elizabeth followed the men into the house, listening as Logan assisted Parker into a chair.
“It's a bad one, sir. The whole main street is already gone. The wind kept changing directions, and the sparks ignited everything for miles. It's been so dry that water is scarce, and we just couldn't put it out.”
Logan poured him a stiff shot of whiskey, and Parker drained it gratefully. Logan poured more as Parker continued.
“It's terrible, just terrible.” His eyes grew watery with emotion, and Logan laid a comforting hand on the old man's shoulder.
“It might be best if you stay here tonight, Parker. Zack and I can take care of things. You need some rest.”
Parker shook his head obstinately. “No, I don't want to leave Aggie there alone. If our home goes, I want to be with her.”
Lily brought food for him, and Elizabeth watched as her husband gave orders with quiet authority, making preparations to leave. Her feelings were still in a quandary, but the thought of Logan's going to Denver without her caused a pain within her heart she did not understand.
When Zack brought the horses around, Elizabeth stood quietly in the shadows of the veranda while Logan talked quietly to Michael. She was aware his blue eyes had often sought her during the past hour until it was time for him to leave, and she tensed as he moved close behind her. His hands closed upon her bare arms and turned her.
“I hate leaving you,” he murmured softly, caressing the softness of her cheek. “I wouldn't go if I didn't have to.”
He gathered her close, his face buried in her flowing hair. He held her back and looked down at her.
“I want to give you something before I go.”
He handed her a small velvet box and stood watching as she opened it. She stared at a beautiful amethyst ring set in delicate scallops of gold filigree. A vague recollection haunted her as she turned it, and it flashed purple in the lanternlight. “It's lovely.”
“It's my wedding present to you.” He slipped it on her finger and smiled down at her. “I hope it will make up for my waiting so long to meet you. That's something I shall always regret.”
Elizabeth smiled up at him, and every fiber in Logan's body rebelled against leaving her.
“Take care, my sweet. I'll be back as soon as I can.”
He started to leave, but stopped when Elizabeth gingerly touched his sleeve.
“Please, be careful,” she said softly, and Logan grinned, crushing her in one last embrace.
Parker and Zack sat waiting upon their horses, but it was a long moment before Logan stepped away from her again. He leaned down, his lips touching hers with a gentleness that bore no resemblance to the ravishing kisses of the afternoon, and Elizabeth watched with a heaviness around her heart as he strode down the porch and swung into the saddle.
She moved to where she could see the road and watched him until his broad back was swallowed by the night. She sighed, leaning her cheek against the rough wood of the pillar as she stared unseeingly into the darkness, unable to explain the tears upon her cheeks.
Sixteen
Heavy boots echoed hollowly over the wood-planked sidewalks of Central City's main street as miners trooped before the newly painted storefronts, eager to spend their gold. Brent Holloway leaned against a corner post in front of a busy saloon, indolently observing the activity around him. Central City was only twenty-eight miles west of Denver, and drifters and gamblers were arriving daily, uprooted from the chaos of the fire-damaged city. And many other Denverites, like his sister, Isabel, had preferred the comfort of a hotel while her house was being rebuilt.
<
br /> Brent removed a thin gold case from his breast pocket and drew out a slim cigar, raising one eyebrow at a trimhipped young woman who accompanied her mother. She turned to look back at the handsome man eyeing her, and her mother scolded her soundly and pulled her away.
Brent smiled, clipping his cigar carefully. His dealings with the Indians had gone very well since he'd arrived in Colorado, evidenced by the thick wad of bills in his pocket. With the help of his old partner, Carl Rankin, he'd managed to make several trips into the mountains with rifles. The time was ripe to make a profit with the white man encroaching more and more of the Indian hunting grounds, and he'd made contacts with the Sioux and the Arapaho. Rumors of an angry young chieftain named Lone Wolf meant the Cheyenne would pay a pretty price for ammunition for their rifles.
He'd leave again soon, but not before he'd seen Elizabeth.
He flipped his cigar into the dirt at his feet, his expression ugly. Thomas Pennington had continued to worsen since Elizabeth had left St. Louis, and it wouldn't be long before the old man died. Elizabeth would inherit an immense fortune, and it galled him that he had not yet gained control of it.
He grimaced, looking toward the Teller House Hotel, wondering if his sister had returned from the dressmaker. Isabel insisted that Logan would be the one to annul the marriage, but Isabel had never met Elizabeth. Logan was much too fond of beautiful women to ignore his lovely bride.
A well-fitted carriage rolled past him and arrested his attention as he recognized it. It swayed to a stop in front of a millinery shop, and Brent's eyes narrowed as Michael Cord emerged, then turned to help Elizabeth out. Brent's breath caught at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in weeks, and in the expensive dress and jacket of dark red, she turned the head of every man who passed. To Brent's delight, Michael strode off, leaving her looking into the shop window. Brent let him get a good distance away, then stepped down’ into the street.
Elizabeth looked around, welcoming the excitement of the bustling boardwalks after the quiet of Woodstone. The ball would be held the next day and Lily had been much too busy with last-minute preparations to come for supplies, but Elizabeth had been eager to accompany Michael on the ten-mile ride, wanting something to occupy her mind besides her husband's return. Logan had been gone two weeks, and in his absence, she'd wandered aimlessly about the lodge feeling unexpectedly lonely without him.
It had taken several days for her to admit that she truly missed him. The time in the cool, leafy glade was on her mind often, as she remembered how his touch had turned her to fire. A blush rose even now as she relived the tingle of his hands upon her naked flesh. Deep longings stirred, and she smiled dreamily, wondering if it could really be possible that she was growing to love the husband thrust upon her by her grandfather.
“Elizabeth!”
The masculine voice brought her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Brent Holloway making his way across the wide and rutted street. The shock of seeing him faded rapidly as he stepped up and took her hand.
“Brent! What are you doing here?” she said delightedly.
“Looking for you.” He smiled down at her as he brought the back of her hand to his lips. “I've thought of you every day since we've been apart.”
Somewhere deep inside Elizabeth, the fact registered that Brent's lips did not burn her skin as Logan's did, but he was her good friend and she was glad to see him.
Brent looked down at her smiling face, trying to read her thoughts, as she drew her hand out of his grip. He could sense a change in her, and it put him on his guard.
“Are you all right, darling? I've been worried about you.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I'm fine, truly. Michael's here with me.”
“What about Logan? He hasn't mistreated you, has he?”
Elizabeth looked away from his searching eyes. “No, he has been more than kind,” she murmured softly, and Brent frowned.
Which meant that Cord did not oppose the marriages much as Isabel had thought. He hid his annoyance from Elizabeth, realizing how much more difficult it would be to marry her if Logan wanted her, too.
“Has he bedded you?” he asked bluntly, and Elizabeth gasped, her eyes shocked.
She did not answer, and Brent read her embarrassment and tried again.
“Please, forgive me, but I still hope for an annulment. You know how much you mean to me.”
Elizabeth looked up at, him, guilty for her lack of feeling toward him. He was so nice and gentle and had been so good to her.
“He agreed to wait until the night of the ball, so that I could get to know him better. But he refuses to consider an annulment.”
So it was not too late, Brent gloated silently. Logan was very stupid to delay. Perhaps with Isabel's help he could make sure their union was never consummated. A glimmer of a plan was born in his mind as he smiled down at her.
“Where has Michael gone?”
“He had some errands to take care of, but I'm to meet him at the Teller House Hotel within the hour.”
“Good, that's where I'm staying. My sister, Isabel, should be back there soon, and I'd like you to meet her.”
He took her elbow, propelling her quickly toward the Teller House. It was just down the street, a narrow, three-story structure built of brown mountain stone. Brent stood back and let Elizabeth precede him inside, then took a moment to search the street for Michael.
The lobby was lavishly decorated, the one haven of elegance in an otherwise rough-hewn town. Brent led Elizabeth past the marble-topped desk to the velvet-draped entrance of the dining room. It was midafternoon, yet most of the red-draped tables were full, and the male diners present took immediate note of Brent's beautiful companion.
“We can have tea while we're waiting for Isabel,” Brent suggested as he led her to a secluded table and held her chair as she sat. “She should return anytime now.”
Elizabeth sat quietly while Brent ordered from the waiter, then smiled at him when he looked back at her.
“What have you been doing since you arrived?” she asked, and Brent's answer was silky.
“Waiting for the opportunity to be with you again.”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes, and Brent's mouth hardened into a tight line. “Where is Logan, anyway? I'm surprised he allowed you to come here without him.”
“He went to Denver because of the fire.”
“That's why we're here. Isabel lost her house.”
Elizabeth raised her brows quickly. “Do you know if Logan was able to save his house?”
A muscle jumped in Brent's cheek at the concern in her voice.
“No, I don't know.” An idea flashed out of nowhere, and he went on, “But Isabel stayed on after I left, and I'm sure she'll know about Logan.”
He avoided her eyes as if embarrassed, and Elizabeth frowned slightly. Brent caught sight of Isabel passing through the lobby and arose at once, wanting to talk to her alone before she met Elizabeth.
“There's Isabel now. Excuse me, and I'll bring her in to meet you.”
Out in the lobby, Isabel Whitcomb was smiling up into the eyes of a handsome young miner, thinking he'd do nicely to amuse her in bed that night, when Brent took her arm and pulled her away with him. She jerked her elbow away angrily but followed him into a draped alcove where they wouldn't be overheard.
“What in the hell do you think you're doing, Brent? I was talking to him!”
“Logan Cord's wife is in the dining room,” Brent said without preamble, and the anger dissolved from Isabel's fair face. She looked toward the door.
“Is Logan here with her?” she asked quickly, and Brent sneered at her hopefulness.
“She said he was in Denver.”
Isabel smiled triumphantly. “Then he's not living with her. I told you he'd find a way to get out of that betrothal contract.”
“According to Elizabeth, Logan won't hear of an annulment.”
Isabel's brows knitted. “I don't believe it. He was furious about the marriage.”
“He hadn't seen Elizabeth then. Any man would want her.”
Sparks flared in Isabel's clear green eyes, and her chin hardened.
“But that doesn't mean he'll get her,” Brent said. “There are ways to remedy the situation. It's not just her money I want. I intend to have Elizabeth as my wife. And since Logan has been good enough to postpone the consummation of the marriage until the wedding ball, we have time to make a few plans. But we must move quickly, because after tomorrow, an annulment will be out of the question. I'm depending on you to make marriage to Cord seem less attractive to her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Use your imagination, sister dear. What do you think Elizabeth would do if she knew Logan had been with you in Denver for the past few weeks.”
“But I've been here....”
Isabel's face dissolved into a slow, comprehending smile, and Brent took her arm.
“Now, let's go meet Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth looked up as Brent entered the dining room, escorting one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen. Brother and sister shared the same aristocratic features and green eyes, but Isabel's hair was not dark auburn like Brent's, but a rich copper color that glowed against the emerald-green gown she wore.
Brent smiled down at Elizabeth, handling the introductions as he assisted Isabel into a chair.
“Elizabeth, please allow me to present my sister, Isabel Whitcomb.” He turned to Isabel. “And this is Logan's wife, Elizabeth. I know how much you've wanted to meet her.”
“How do you do, Mrs. Whitcomb.”
The green eyes watched her with an expression that made Elizabeth uncomfortable.
“So we finally meet. Logan mentioned you just the other day.”
Isabel's voice was low and husky, and Elizabeth looked up quickly. “Then you did see my husband in Denver?”
A small, awkward silence followed, as Brent and Isabel exchanged meaningful looks. Elizabeth looked from one to the other questioningly until Brent leaned forward, his expression grave.
