by Jo Goodman
"I'm not like the others," she said. There was regret in her voice. "I can't listen quietly, then do as I wish like Mary Francis. I don't know how to withdraw like Maggie. I can't wear him down like Skye, and I care too much about pleasing him to charge ahead like Michael."
"I've seen you stand up to him, Rennie," said Jarret. The back of his finger trailed across her cheek and along her jaw. "You challenge him in ways different from your sisters, but you do it."
"Shaking in my shoes."
Jarret laughed. "I bet Jay Mac doesn't know that." He gave a tendril of hair at her temple a slight tug as he wound it around his finger. "What is it that you want from him?"
"I want him to approve of me, of my choices. I want him to respect my work and acknowledge my skill."
He paused in playing with her hair, thoughtful, his brows drawn together. "Rennie, did you tell your father the problems with putting down rails at Queen's Point?"
Rennie was caught off guard. "I wasn't talking about that."
"Weren't you?" he asked. "What did he say when you showed him your work and your conclusions?"
Behind her lids Rennie's eyes ached with unshed tears. Her voice was barely audible. "He said I should put my own house in order before I tell him how to run his."
Jarret's arm slipped around her shoulder. "I see," he said. And he did. He remembered quite clearly listening to Rennie explaining her work on the Queen's Point rails, her judgment that the surveyors had been wrong. He also recalled that she was not quite as confident in her abilities as he would have thought, that she was not prepared to argue convincingly in support of her own conclusions. "He's decided to trust Hollis and the surveyors, is that it? The tracks will be laid along the wrong route."
"It's already begun. The work started months ago." She sensed Jarret was going to argue with her and went on. "He's seen me make a mess of too many things to trust my assessment."
"But surely those were personal, not professional." Jarret couldn't imagine that Jay Mac had made a success of every business venture he touched by confusing the two.
"I'm his daughter," Rennie said. "There are different rules. It's what we all fight. I just do it more clumsily than the others." Her low laughter was humorless. "The irony, of course, is that I'm the one who tried to join the battle on his side. Mary Francis chose the convent; Michael, the Chronicle. Maggie will be a doctor someday, and Skye will go to the moon if she has a mind to. I thought Northeast Rail would bind Jay Mac and me. Instead we spar all the time."
"Your sisters are all doing what they want to do," Jarret said. "Can you say the same?"
Rennie did not answer immediately. She knew what Jarret was asking, and she wasn't prepared to respond in that same vein. Instead she raised herself up, folding her arms on Jarret's chest, and met his gaze squarely. "Right now," she said, "I'm doing exactly what I want to do."
When she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth, Jarret was glad she was.
* * *
"You're awake," she said. She whispered because she wanted to keep dawn at bay. "Does this mean we're leaving soon?"
"It means I'm thinking about it."
Rennie stretched lazily, then curled like a contented cat. She fit her bottom snugly against Jarret's groin. "Think about it all you like. I want to sleep."
"You'll understand if I don't really believe you." He lifted the hair at the back of her neck and nuzzled. She murmured her contentment. The sound of it vibrated against his lips. He smiled, breathing in her fragrance, and kissed her softly.
"Hmm."
"Like that, do you?"
"Mm-hmm."
Jarret's hands slipped around her and cupped her breasts through her nightgown. His thumbs massaged her nipples, provoking them to hardness. She shifted, rubbing her backside against him. "Like that, do you?"
He playfully nipped her neck in response. "There are some things I can't hide from you."
Rennie turned in his arms. "You're not going to let me sleep, are you?" Even as she spoke Jarret was raising her shift above her thighs.
"That's what I said a few hours ago," he reminded her. "And you didn't listen then."
"That's because you're a very lucky man."
"Thank God." He kissed her mouth with breathtaking thoroughness. Rennie pushed at his drawers and took him into her hands. It took some adjustments, some laughter, but then she was guiding him into her, taking all of him, accommodating the fullness and the heat, and matching his rhythm.
Urgency swept them. Her mouth slanted across his; her tongue ran along the ridged line of his teeth, pressing entry in the way he had pressed his. His lips moved over hers, and he tasted her need as if it were a tangible thing, like succulent oranges or sweet, ripe cherries. The flavor of her kiss was like the fragrance of her hair, capable of reaching him, arousing him just below the level of his consciousness on some deeply felt primal plane.
He was a pressure inside her and a presence all around her. She felt his arms across her back, his legs flush to hers. His mouth touched her throat, her shoulders, her breasts. His skin was warm. Tension arced between them, and the air was dry and crackling. She thought they might spin wildly out of control like Roman candles.
Then they did.
Rennie listened to their breathing slow in unison. She touched her thudding heart as though she could calm it from outside her chest. She glanced at Jarret. He was watching her, the black centers of his eyes slowly receding in the aftermath of their loving. Her shadowed smile appeared slowly. "That was quite something," she said softly, a little dazed.
He nodded, more than a little dazed himself. He had never experienced anything like he had just shared with Rennie. The intensity of the pleasure had driven him hard against her and into her. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
She shook her head. "No... not at all." She touched his shoulder just above the starburst scar. "I think I bit you," she said, equally surprised and embarrassed.
Jarret's brows rose, and he tilted his head to get a look at his shoulder. The faint indentations of her teeth were visible. "I'll be damned," he said. He turned, and his slow grin transformed his face. "You are tenacious."
Chapter 11
Traveling together was a different experience for them now. Jarret, although he held to his promise of not making allowances for Rennie, was more inclined to ask rather than order. Rennie rode abreast of him often, no longer wary of interjecting the occasional question. The journey had become something to be shared and would never be remembered from the framework of a single person's recollection or viewpoint.
They rode on opposite sides of a narrow, rushing stream with the packhorse following Jarret. The run of icy water was a steady and pleasant whisper in their ears, interrupted only by the crunch of snow beneath the horses' hooves. There was almost no wind. The air was dry and bitterly cold, and the sun offered light, but little in the way of warmth. By the time Jarret decided to stop for the afternoon meal, Rennie felt as if she'd been riding for days.
They sought shelter in the shadowed adit of an abandoned mine. Icicles hung like a fringe of crystal beads from the entrance beam. Rennie ducked beneath them to enter; Jarret broke them off.
"But they were so pretty," she said.
Jarret looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You might feel differently with one of them sticking in your back."
Wincing at the image that presented, Rennie said, "I'll remember that." She glanced around, stamping her feet in place to keep warm. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and her gloved hands were buried in the crooks of her armpits. "There aren't any bears in here, are there?"
Jarret unwrapped the long, woolen scarf around his neck and used it to lasso Rennie. He tugged on both ends and pulled her closer. "How would I know? I haven't seen any more of this place than you."
Her eyes widened. "Shouldn't you... you know... look around a little bit?"
He settled a leisurely kiss on her mouth, raised his head, bussed her on the tip of her reddened nose, and
rested his forehead against hers. "You look around for those bears. I'll get wood for a fire." He left his scarf lying around her shoulders and disappeared out the entrance.
Rennie stared after him. The heat of his kiss lingered. She touched her mouth, felt the shape, and realized she was smiling. "I'll stay just where I am, thank you very much."
Their lunch was rabbit stew and pots of hot coffee. Rennie took Jarret's advice and savored the last of their carrots and potatoes. Dinner would be beans and jerky.
Rennie scraped her plate clean. "Maybe we'll have bear meat tonight," she said. "That would flavor those old beans."
Above his steaming mug of coffee Jarret's eyes were amused. "You planning on killing yourself a bear?"
"I thought you might."
"You know where one is?"
She pointed to the dark recesses of the adit where the mine tunnel took a turn. "Hibernating."
"Then, it's hardly fair to wake him," Jarret said, playing along. "We'll let sleeping bears lie."
Rennie wrinkled her nose at him and gathered their plates and utensils. She wiped them clean with snow and a rag and then packed them away. Returning to the fallen timber beam that was her seat, Rennie poured herself the last of the coffee. It was slightly bitter but wonderfully hot.
"We're traveling fairly quickly," she said carefully, swallowing her own anxiety. "I don't recall you pausing but once or twice to look for anything. Are we going someplace in particular or haven't you found what you'd hoped?"
Jarret's forearms rested against his knees, and he held his mug in both hands. "Snows have come and gone a dozen times since the accident," he told her. "The first rescue party to reach the wreck trampled most everything in sight, and Ethan's men scoured wider ground when they searched. There's nothing that I'm likely to find now."
"But you found Jay Mac's spectacles."
"That was dumb luck, Rennie. I doubt lightning's going to strike twice."
She nodded. "Then, you have somewhere in particular we're headed, is that it?"
"That's it." He sipped his coffee. "If Jay Mac was lying near where I found his spectacles when the first rescue efforts were made, it's understandable that he was missed. It would have been dark by the time the surviving passengers and crew on No. 412 could have reached the wreckage. They probably took a route similar to the one we did, bypassing Jay Mac altogether. When Ethan and his search party came to the site days later, Jay Mac had already wandered away... or perhaps he was taken away... I don't know." He finished off his coffee. His sapphire eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Rennie's pale features and gauged her weariness.
"There's an old prospector in these parts named Dancer Tubbs," he said. "He's not like Duffy Cedar, so don't make the comparison in your own mind. Dancer's been on his own for too many years, more hermit than human. He doesn't have much time for other folks, and he makes a point of avoiding them. The last time I saw Dancer he held me off his claim with a shotgun." Jarret's grin was self-mocking as he gave her a knowing look. "I can tell you, Rennie, I remember more about that shotgun than I do about Dancer."
"But that's where we're going?" she asked.
He nodded. "Dancer moves around in these mountains like a shadow. He knows what happens here, who comes and goes."
"Why didn't Ethan seek him out?"
"I doubt if Ethan knows about him. I told you, the man keeps to himself. I first met him six years ago when I was tracking Brownwood Riley. I had a sense I was being followed—for a time I thought it was Riley himself, circling back on me. I guess it unnerved me. I got a little skittish and so did my horse. I took a spill with him on some rocks. I don't know how long I was out, but when I came around Dancer was there. He shot my bay and reset my dislocated shoulder. Hardly said a word to me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd shot me and set my horse's leg.
"He's a hard man, Rennie, and harder to look on. I want you to know that at the outset. He's missing most of his left ear, and the same side of his face is just a scar. As soon as I was healed he sent me out on my own. I didn't have a horse and only a few supplies, but the alternative was a bullet. He won't want you staring at him—he may not even let us get close—but if Jay Mac is alive and somewhere in these mountains, Dancer knows about it."
Rennie swallowed the last mouthful of coffee. "How far are we from his claim?" she asked.
"Last I knew he built himself a little cabin. We'll reach it tomorrow morning."
She set down her cup. Rennie's gaze was level, her mouth set in a flat, serious line. "Then, we should have a plan."
Jarret wasn't listening to her. His eyes were locked on the ominous, amorphous shadow behind Rennie. He raised his hand slowly toward her. His voice was taut and quiet. "Take my hand, Rennie."
She never understood what made her obey without question. Her fingers slipped through his. In the next second she was being dragged full tilt out of the mine, then propelled to one side by Jarret's rough and urgent push. She fell face first in the snow, rolled, and came up on her hands and knees. Spitting out a mouthful of snow, Rennie's head swiveled around, and her eyes darted anxiously. She saw Jarret grab his carbine from the leather sheath secured to Zilly's saddle. He slapped the mare hard on her flank. She scrambled out of the way as Jarret pivoted toward the adit and took aim.
Rennie followed the swing of the carbine. Her eyes flashed on the maple stock, the hammer, the silver-plated lever and trigger guard. In a single panicked glance she took in the unwavering length of the barrel as Jarret steadied his sights. She saw the bear in the same moment he did.
The brown bear cub shook his head sluggishly, raising one paw as if to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He looked around, batted one of the dripping icicles that Jarret had missed, then shied away from the clatter it made when it shattered against rock.
"It's just a baby," Rennie whispered, entranced by the bear's antics and relieved by its size.
If Jarret could have rolled his eyes and kept his sights, he would have done so. "It's Mama I'm worried about," he said. The cub poked his head out again and, after a cautious look at both Rennie's and Jarret's still figures, lumbered lethargically out of the mine.
Laggard, Rennie thought. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jarret lower his gun slowly and scoop up a handful of snow. Guessing his intent, she did the same, packing her snowball so that it neatly fit the palm of her hand. Without a word passing between them they simultaneously fired their missiles.
The cub took one shot on the nose and another on his flank and beat a hasty retreat for the sanctuary of the mineshaft.
Jarret helped Rennie to her feet. "Let's go before Mama decides she wants to play." He gave her a leg up on Albion, sheathed the carbine, and mounted Zilly. Their own departure was no less hasty than the bear cub's.
Rennie rode abreast of Jarret. She glanced over her shoulder at the mine entrance. "You know we left our mugs back there," she told him.
Jarret pulled up on Zilly's reins. "I'll wait here," he said. "You go on back and get them."
Rennie pulled down the scarf that covered the lower half of her face. She poked her tongue out at him.
"Don't get sassy in this weather. You're likely to freeze that way." He gave Zilly a light kick and started off again.
Rennie thought there might be some merit to his warning. She raised the scarf and followed. It was enough that he knew she was laughing.
* * *
They made camp that evening in the natural shelter of some rocks. The tent was secured to the scrub pines, and they built a fire big enough to feel the heat inside.
"You're going to have to stop laughing sometime," he said. They were sitting up inside the tent, her body tucked between his raised legs, her back leaning against his chest. Jarret gave Rennie half his jerky. "Here, eat this."
Rennie gnawed on the dried meat. It wasn't any easier to swallow the food than it was to swallow her laughter. "It's just we were both so ready for some terrifying beast and then..." She hiccupped. "Excuse me." She caught her b
reath and went on, "And out came... out came this roly-poly sluggard baby bear. The poor thing was more afraid of our snowballs than your carbine."
"I thought you weren't the Dennehy with a sense of humor," he said dryly.
"I'm not."
He made a disbelieving sound at the back of his throat. "You didn't really know that bear was there the whole time, did you?"
Rennie's dark, feathery brows lifted. She nudged him with her elbow. "I'm not completely daft."
"I know." He kissed the crown of her head. "Tell me about that plan of yours, the one our menacing bear cub interrupted."
Rennie explained her idea, pleased that Jarret listened without interruption. When he heard the whole of it, he wasn't immediately criticizing, but thoughtful.
"That could work," he said finally. "You know, Rennie, there are no guarantees. Jay Mac may not be alive. Dancer Tubbs may only be able to lead us to a grave or he may not know anything at all. Are you prepared for that?"
Rennie was silent a long time before she answered. She thought about her journey west, the angry battle with Hollis over her right to leave, the teary and troubled face of her mother as she said goodbye. Mary Francis had said a prayer for her. Skye and Maggie had accompanied her to the train station, their faces pale and tense, supportive but uncertain she was making the right decision. In Denver Michael and Ethan had tried to dissuade her from going any farther. She had heard their arguments but couldn't find the logic in them. She had it between her teeth, this sense that Jay Mac was still alive, and she would not, could not, let it go.
"How can I be?" she asked with painful honesty. "I've come all this way because I've hoped for a different ending." His hands were folded against her middle, and Rennie laid hers over them. She turned her head and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "But I'm glad you're with me," she whispered. "I'll try not to make you sorry you brought me."
