by Jenna Kernan
“Just in case there’s more trouble. Still don’t know who’s taking potshots at our workers, but I’d lay odds it’s the stage owners or those shippers in Frisco.”
Sam nodded. “Railroad would sink their business.”
“I agree. Crawford is staying here to track down some leads. I gave him the names of the men in San Francisco who have shouted the loudest at the folly of a railroad. And he’s spoken to the men who attacked you.”
“You think they’re connected?”
“Crawford does. They told him that they don’t know who hired them. The woman was their contact. So he’s trying to find her.”
“All right, then.”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
Sam scowled. “Crawford, Pinkertons and the woman knows the man responsible.”
Cole laughed, but Sam didn’t join him.
“What’s wrong?”
Sam tugged his hat down. “I hope you know what you’re doing, sending me back up there.”
“You’re the best man I know for this job. If you can organize that mill and the tunnel team the way you organized our mine, we’ll be over those mountains in less than eighteen months.”
Sam stared toward the east.
“It’s mid-April, Sam. Even if it does snow, it can’t last long.”
Sam felt as cheerful as a pallbearer when he met Cole’s eyes. “My head knows it, but my heart is jumping in my chest.”
“I wondered why you were so antsy.”
Sam stooped to glance under the bonnet of a passing woman.
“Sam, who the hell you looking for?”
“Kate Wells.”
That stopped Cole. “The one from the alley?”
“She’s coming with me.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “Papers will eat that up.”
“Like I care.”
“You sure she didn’t have anything to do with the robbery?”
“She didn’t.”
His quick denial raised Cole’s eyebrows but Sam could not hide the fury the accusation raised. His need to protect her surprised him as much as Cole.
“Hope you know what you’re doing.”
Sam was looking at the mountains, but seeing the ghost he’d left behind.
“So do I.”
Now Cole was scanning the area. “Crawford looked into her background.”
Sam snapped his head around. “What?”
Sam’s indignation lasted until his curiosity overwhelmed him.
“Well, after you asked me about her, I got curious.”
“You’re nosier than a woman, I swear.”
“You want to hear what I got or not?”
Sam pressed his lips together, fearing what he would hear. He gave a quick jerk of his head.
“She was sixteen when she married Wells. Paraded all over with him. Lived like a queen, best of everything. He even took her up to the gold camps.” Cole leveled his gaze on Sam.
The implication was clear. The miners would remember her and the association wouldn’t be good.
“I’ve got a legitimate offer.”
“You don’t have to convince me.”
But he did have to convince the miners.
“What do you know about Wells?”
“Her husband? Came out of nowhere. Scoundrel, cheat, peacock of a man. Liked to wear velvet coats and top hats. Terrible at cards, but a quick talker. Sold claims he never owned. It’s a wonder he didn’t take the money and run. Didn’t seem stupid.”
“Big, small, what?”
“Let’s see. He was big. Solid, you know. Built a little like you. Same color hair. Wore a waxed mustache. Did I tell you he had a ruby stud in his tie this big?” Cole made a circle with his thumb and first finger to indicate the size.
Sam scowled. He didn’t dress like a peacock, but it was possible that he resembled her husband enough to give Kate second thoughts. “How’d he treat her?”
“Oh, like I said, best of everything. Lived in grand style. Fancy clothes, servants, the works.”
Something wasn’t right. Sam could offer her a similar arrangement, minus the marriage. Yet she shut him down before he could even make the offer. She meant it, too. He’d have laid a bet that she’d never change her mind. What had changed her mind? He shifted uneasily as he recalled Cole’s implication that she might be involved in the incident in the alley.
No, he didn’t believe it. Kate was the first good thing to happen to him since the railroad.
But he admitted that the passion that fired his blood scared her. He sensed it. She was like a seesaw in a school yard, flipping first this way and then that. But he’d given her no reason to fear him. And that left just one thing.
“Was she happy?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” asked Cole.
“Wells have any others before her?”
“Don’t know.” He met Cole’s inquisitive eyes.
“Put your detective on that one.”
“Sure. Soon as he finds out who’s trying to kill you.”
Sam refused to be drawn from his speculation. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’d swear she’s scared.”
“Of you? She’s got more sense than I thought.”
Sam growled at the sarcasm but kept to the point. “I’m gentle with my women. But she’s skittish as a new mare. Something happened to her. I’ve seen horses like that, ruined by the wrong handling.”
Cole laughed. “Sam, I’ve been married for nearly twelve years. I don’t know much. But I do know that if you ever compare that woman to a horse in front of her, you’ll regret it forever.”
Cole’s laughter died alone and he stared at his friend. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s she scared of?”
“I think he mistreated her.”
“Bastard.”
“When she came to my place, she was sending all the signals of a woman with needs, but then she kinda froze up. She ain’t a virgin so I’m just supposing that maybe her only experience was bad.”
“Why would you want an unwilling woman?”
“She’s not. There’s a heat between us. I feel it. She does, too. I’m certain. She is willing, just uneasy.” Sam scowled at the train before him, thinking how she had kissed him and then drawn back.
Cole stared at him. “Damn, Sam, I haven’t seen that look on your face since you first hit that piddly little vein of gold and were bound and determined to follow it straight down into that mountain.” Cole hesitated. They both were well aware how that hunch had turned out.
“I got to get her to trust me, is all.”
Cole lifted an eyebrow in a skeptical expression that Sam knew well. “Might just be a ploy to get your attention.”
“It’s not,” he snapped, and folded his arms across his chest. Why did he suddenly want to throttle his best friend?
Cole’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re defending her? That’s a first. Careful or she’ll end up with a ring on that left finger.”
Sam cast him a dark look. He wasn’t sticking his head in that noose for anyone. The idea of raising a family scared him worse than winter in the mountains. But he kept that to himself because didn’t want another sermon. His friend couldn’t understand Sam’s reluctance, but to explain it would mean telling him about his past and he wasn’t going there for anybody.
Sam thought of what Kate had said about her independence. “If she intended to be a wife, I imagine she’d already be hitched.”
Cole nodded his agreement. “I hear she’s lovely, but any man that comes after Wells will have to deal with her reputation—and his. And a man rich as you, folks will just assume that’s why she’s with you.”
“Let them think what they like and be damned.”
Why was Cole smiling?
His partner had the wrong idea about Kate. She worked two jobs to make ends meet. If she was as mercenary as Cole painted her, why hadn’t she found another protector already?
Waiting for another big fish, came the reply. His mood soured furthe
r.
He glanced at his watch. It was five after nine. Was she coming? He’d thought of nothing but her since he’d left her in the parlor. Kate’s hands gripping his shoulders, her body pressed flush to his. Sam smiled and found Cole staring, his mouth in a sour twist.
Cole shook his head as if in pity. “You’re falling hard.”
“I just want to bed her.”
“Keep telling yourself that, my friend. But something about this one feels different.”
“Not so different.”
Cole glanced over Sam’s shoulder.
“That must be her.”
Sam turned and, suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.
Chapter Seven
S am’s back was turned to her, but there was no mistaking him. His height and muscular frame would make him stand out anywhere. He was an unusual combination of muscle, neither gawky nor stocky, but a blend of elements that somehow made him more than the sum of his parts. Kate beckoned to the porter to indicate he should follow her with the handcart. Funny how easily she slipped back into the life she had abandoned over a year ago, only this time, Phoebe was safe at home, instead of locked up with a strict caretaker. Kate felt it her duty to look after Phoebe and that meant keeping their home. She straightened her shoulders and forced a smile.
The day was bright and the sunlight shone off the spring-green satin of the skirts of her elaborate day dress. She had chosen to wear the smaller, more flexible hoops today because of their practicality for sitting and entering smaller passages. But mainly she had chosen the dress to accent her eyes. The milliner had embellished the wide pleated pagoda sleeves and stiff, lace collar with an emerald-green velvet ribbon. Buttons, swathed in the same satin, ran up her fitted bodice in a neat, even row. She carried nothing but her new velvet reticule that matched the emerald velvet ribbon that ringed her sleeves and waist.
The man Sam spoke to nodded toward her and Sam turned. His mouth fell open as he gaped at her transformation. She smiled as she drew closer and noted how the tall, dark man beside him elbowed Sam in the ribs. Sam’s mouth snapped shut.
“Here we are,” she chirped, drawing to a halt before Sam.
She knew this part and played it effortlessly. She was to be beautiful, charming and vapid as weak tea. She was to have no opinion except his and accept Sam’s will over hers. She forced down the urge to rebel as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. When she drew back, he still stood gawking. It felt good to have him so off balance. She smiled sweetly and waited.
The porter grew impatient. “Where would you like these, sir?”
“Follow me,” said the man who had elbowed Sam. He turned to Kate, extending his hand. “I’m Cole Ellis, the mute’s business partner.”
“A pleasure, Mr. Ellis. Will you be joining us up the mountain?”
“Not this time, I’m afraid.” He tipped his hat and then addressed Sam. “I’ll see her bags are placed in the private car.”
Sam continued to stare at her.
Mr. Ellis slapped Sam across the shoulder with enough force to send him staggering forward a step. The blow seemed to rouse him. Sam blinked.
“I said I’m putting her bags in the private car.”
“Thanks,” he said, but never took his attention from Kate. His eyes glowed with pleasure.
Her body reacted to his obvious approval, and she stepped closer. He gripped her cinched waist with both hands, taking possession of her. She did not like being captured but tried not to let his eagerness spoil the moment, for she was, in truth, happy to see him again and pleased at his reaction to her new apparel. It took a moment to become accustomed to his touch, but he did not yank at her or force her against him. Instead, he seemed to be holding her at arm’s length in order to take her in.
“Hmm. You look good enough to eat.”
Now the smile she held was genuine. He released her and she found that she missed his light touch.
He stepped closer. She stared up at him, suddenly light-headed. Was it the corset or the intensity of his stare?
Every time she got near the man she completely lost her head. And she knew better, if any woman alive did.
“Moth to the flame,” she whispered.
He smiled. “You are a lovely flame.”
She pressed her palm to her bosom. “I’m the moth.”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise, then he grinned and slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He leaned in. “I can’t wait to have you alone.”
Her eyes widened that he would say such a thing, right here on the platform. True, his words were just a whisper, but now she was blushing like a schoolgirl while Mr. Ellis directed the porter away. Perhaps this was the kind of thing one said to a mistress in public.
“Shame on you,” she whispered back.
One hand slid to the small of her back as the other hand entwined their fingers, as if he meant to dance with her. He pressed her forward and suddenly she wished she had worn the larger hoops. A rush of excitement rippled through her and she stared up at him.
Shock stilled her as she realized she was full of anticipation. Her legs brushed together, bare of all but her sheer stockings and garter belts. She felt wicked and wanton, right here in the bold sunshine.
Mr. Ellis returned and had to clear his throat twice before Sam released her.
“Send word back if you need anything,” he said, but his gaze flicked to Kate as if to say he didn’t expect to hear a word. “And try to leave the train to speak to a few investors.”
“I will,” said Sam, his voice indicating he did not appreciate being nagged.
Mr. Ellis touched the brim of his black hat. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wells.”
Sam released her long enough to shake hands with Mr. Ellis. Then he recaptured Kate, leading her to the railcar and assisting her up the steps.
She paused just inside as she noted for the first time that this was no ordinary passenger compartment, but a private suite. Her composure slipped as she took in the sumptuousness. There were no rows of padded seats or conductors waiting to see a ticket. The ceiling was painted a rich cranberry and etched in gold with a leaf motif. Thick velvet curtains in burgundy flanked the windows, their gold fringe and tassels an exact match of the five padded easy chairs. Toward the back, just before the bar, sat a full-size sofa also in gold damask. Carpets stretched from one wall to the other and a beveled mirror caught the sunlight and sent rainbows dancing on the ceiling. Beside the bar lay a narrow hallway behind which she assumed was the necessary.
Her breath caught at the opulence. It was so different than what she had expected. Luke had been outwardly flamboyant. To the world, he appeared vastly wealthy, but that was all part of the charade. He lived only by deception, which was why his private quarters, and the meager room he rented for Phoebe were stark in comparison to his outward extravagance. She had discovered after his death that some of her jewelry had only been rented.
But this was Sam’s private quarters. No one would see this place but his closest friends and associates. Would his bedchamber be so elaborate?
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Of course.” She stepped into the room. “What keeps the chairs from toppling over?”
“Bolted to the floor.”
That did make sense. Silence stretched between them as they faced each other. They would be completely alone on the trip to Dutch Flats.
“Something wrong?” asked Sam.
“Nothing,” she lied. Of course a man as wealthy as Sam could rent a private car—or did he own it?
“You expected something else, Kate?”
“No, Sam, it is the loveliest coach I have ever seen.”
She allowed him to lead her to a chair and was grateful he had not chosen the sofa. Her head was spinning with possibilities. But he did not set upon her like some beast, as she’d feared but instead knelt by her side.
“They’re just loading up. We’ll be departing soon. Would you like a drink?”
“Wate
r?”
He went to the bar and poured her a glass, returning with a cut-crystal goblet. Kate’s hand trembled as she reached for it, but once in possession of the narrow stem, she regained some control.
“My bags?”
“Through there.” He indicated with a nod of his head. “Sleeping car.”
Her hand began to shake so she tipped the goblet, taking several sips. Sam returned it to the bar, giving her a moment to regain her fleeting composure.
He moved with disturbing swiftness. When he returned, she had set her reticule aside and stood by the window.
Sam brushed his palm along her forearm, using it as a guide to reach her hand. His touch pitched her heart into a fast jig. She inhaled sharply at the sudden flash of heat blooming over her skin. He stood so close she could feel his heat, as well. His fingers caressed hers. She was thankful for the gloves that deadened the sensation, but not the quickening of her blood, racing through her.
“You look flushed,” he said, seeming pleased at the success of his seduction.
She pressed a hand to her cheeks as she looked out at the platform to see Mr. Ellis staring at her through the window. She had the distinct impression that he was judging her.
Sam stood just behind her, reaching to close the blind and blocking out her view. It would be so easy to lean back against his broad chest.
She turned toward him, fighting the need to press herself to him, to feel the gratifying pressure of his firm body against her soft curves.
His hand splayed across the center of her back, bringing her to him and granting her unspoken wish. She exhaled in a soft groan of pleasure.
She was supposed to be using her charms to toy with him, but all she could think of was how much she wanted to kiss him. Kate lifted her chin to ask him—what? His brown eyes held flecks of gold. His pupils dilated, pushing back the golden iris until it rimmed the dark center.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispered.
How did he know?
Had he felt her heart as it hammered in her chest?
She wrapped her arms about his neck. He exhaled his relief and his shoulders sagged for just an instant. Then, he seemed galvanized to action. He drew her back from the windows, pressing her to the dark-paneled wall with his chest and dipping to kiss her.
