by Jenna Kernan
He lifted his chin and she kissed him on his mouth with quick, eager thrusts of her tongue until he nearly lost his grip on her. She drew back.
“Let me have you,” she whispered.
Her eagerness overtook him and he let her go. She moved down the length of him with a sigh of contentment and then settled her hips against him. She leaned back to press herself in more tightly, trusting him to keep her from falling. He held her as she swayed and then thrust his hips up to push deeper inside her.
She cried out and then used her strong legs to lift up, nearly unseating herself. She straightened and gazed down at him, watching his face as she slid over him again. He closed his eyes at the sweetness of her taking. Up she rose and then down again. He kissed her breasts and stroked her back as she rode him. She moved faster and he realized he was quickly losing control.
It was in that moment that he realized he didn’t wear the French preventative. The second startling recognition was that he didn’t want to.
He gripped her hips, stilling her. He held her sandwiched between one hand at her back and the other over her taut belly.
“Kate,” he said, but did not know how to tell her.
Don’t be a damned fool. Just because you want her child doesn’t mean she wants it.
He drew her up and off until she stood on the carpet before him, looking confused. He grabbed at the drawer beside his bed and removed the paper packet. She took it with eager fingers. His head sank for a moment. She didn’t want a child, then. If she did, she’d tell him no, wouldn’t she?
She tore the packet open and slipped the skin over him. Then she climbed up over his hips, as bold as any wrangler, and seated herself back in place. He gasped as she took him, his thought blurring against the rising need.
His hand descended until his thumb brushed over the swollen bud between her legs. She gasped and shuddered. Her head fell back and her motion became more frantic. He increased the speed of his stroking and gritted his teeth, hoping he could hold back until she finished her ride.
She was close now. He could tell from the mewling sounds she made far back in her throat. But his release was coming and he did not know if he could wait. She arched and called out his name in a long cry of liberation. An instant later the rippling contractions of her release rolled over his erect flesh, splintering his control. He unlocked his jaw and gave in to pleasure that roared through him.
Chapter Twenty
S am woke to a train whistle and knew Cole had returned with the lumber and, hopefully, the ring. But Sam did not rise as he felt the cars reconnect. Soon the engine was pushing them along to the building site. Only when the familiar rumble of steel wheels on the twin rails ceased and the train came to rest, did he rise. He found his partner at the cook’s tent, beside the train, already drinking coffee.
“You look like hell,” said Cole.
Sam knew a jealous man when he saw one. Cole never left Bridget for long. In the early days, they were inseparable, but now with the babies, she could not follow him so easily.
“I guess you got more sleep than I did,” Sam said. “Did you get it?”
“What?” Cole didn’t quite pull off the look of bewilderment, because he started laughing. “Yeah, I got it.”
He reached in his trouser pocket and came up empty. “Must have lost it.”
Sam folded his arms and waited.
Cole laughed again and then drew a small heart-shaped box from his vest pocket. It was red leather with a floral pattern embossed on the sides in gold.
“The box is sure pretty,” said Sam.
“Well, I didn’t pick it for the box. It isn’t the biggest. But it was the best-looking one, I think. Still say you should have been the one to choose it.”
“You got better taste for such things.”
Sam used his thumb to flip open the lid. Inside, nestled in black velvet, sat the ring. It had a large white diamond in the center that sparkled when he tipped the box. The round stone was ringed with more white diamonds. More studded the sides of the band, although they were long and thin. The setting was silver and nearly invisible, making the ring seem all diamonds.
“You bought a silver ring?”
“That’s platinum, you idiot.”
“I’m an idiot? I’m not the man who bought a platinum ring for a gold miner’s fiancée.”
“If she don’t like it, you can take it back. Besides I think the ring is the least of your worries.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that I’ve asked a woman to marry me and you haven’t. Isn’t as easy as you think.”
Sam closed the box and tucked the ring away. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” Cole glanced around. “Everything is good here? No more attacks and the supplies are all accounted for.”
“I still want to speak to the head of each team.”
“I’ll see to that.”
Sam nodded. “Appreciate that.”
Cole rose and gulped down the rest of his coffee. Sam turned to the cook that he had had with him since the Dog Bite Mining Company.
“Lucky, I want a pot of Chinese tea in a teapot with sugar and milk, real milk.” Sam scratched his chin. “Oh, and a fancy cup and spoon.”
He turned back to see Cole smirking at him.
“That gonna hold you till lunch?”
“Climb off my back, will ya?”
Cole clapped him on the shoulder. “Just nice to see you taking care of someone, partner. Been a long time coming. Pardon me for enjoying myself.”
Sam waved him off and headed back to Kate.
He found her struggling with her corset, so he helped cinch her in. It reminded him of saddling a horse, except that the horse held its breath to prevent him from tightening the girth, while Kate exhaled to expedite the procedure.
Once that ordeal was complete, he helped lift a black skirt above her head. As it settled over her hoop, he realized that the garment had alternating wide vertical stripes of shiny satin and soft velvet. Kate closed the velvet coat herself.
“Women’s clothing makes no sense. What’s the point of garments you can’t get into by yourself?”
Kate finished fastening the jacket and turned to face him. The black made her skin seem pale as the sugar quartz in his mine. Her hair gleamed like burnished copper, looking rich and earthy beside the black. Suddenly he understood.
He smiled and nodded. “Worth every penny,” he said.
“I’m glad you approve.”
Sam felt the ring burning a hole in his pocket. But he hadn’t thought of what to say yet. Where was a man supposed to ask a woman? Certainly not in a bedroom with the rumpled sheets there as a reminder of the night they had spent together.
He’d wait until after they ate.
Sam held the door for her. Their breakfast was waiting for them in the adjoining car as he had instructed. He glanced over the lot and saw two covered trays and a silver coffeepot. How blessed difficult was it to find a cup of milk and a handful of dried tea leaves?
Kate took a seat and Sam drew the table between them, then lifted the closest lid. The first tray was obviously his, with a slab of ham as big around as the head of a banjo piled with scrambled eggs and then fried potatoes on top.
Kate gasped at the enormity of the portion.
He lifted the second cover. There sat a small green quilted pillow tied up like a lady’s purse, and beside it lay two thick slabs of toast. Sam leaned in to inspect her meal. There were three little dishes full of something. One resembled strawberry jam. Then he noticed the cream and sugar and a teacup as thin as an eggshell.
Kate gasped.
Sam fumed. “Now why in blazes would they give you a teacup and saucer and no tea!”
“But there is tea!”
She lifted the little quilted doily to reveal a teapot secreted beneath. She raised the lid and steam rose from within. She leaned forward and inhaled. The smile that curled her lips did something to his insides.
&n
bsp; “It’s orange pekoe.” She replaced the lid. “Oh, thank you, Sam. This is perfect.”
“What are those?” he asked, pointing at the little bowls no bigger than shot glasses.
She indicated the first. “Butter, jam and orange marmalade.”
“That enough?”
“Oh, most certainly.” Kate drew off her gloves and set them beside her tray. Her palms still looked raw in places.
She pressed her index finger to the lid and lifted the pot, tipping it to send a graceful cascade of hot tea directly into her cup without losing a drop.
Sam took a seat as Kate added milk and one teaspoon of sugar. Somehow she stirred in the sugar without ever touching the edge of the fine cup. The thing would probably shatter if she even nicked it.
She clasped the tiny handle of the cup and smiled up at him. “This is lovely, Sam. Thank you.”
“Jiminy, you didn’t make this much fuss over the railroad stock I gave you.”
She giggled and lifted the cup and saucer. He thought he’d wait to eat until he saw her take that first swallow. Something about seeing Kate enjoying herself was not to be missed.
He thought about the ring. Would she accept it? Had he convinced her that he was nothing like her first husband? If she’d accept him, he might have what he had lost, someone to love again. And he might have something he’d longed for—someone to love him.
“Sam, are you all right?” she asked.
He snapped out of his musings. “Yeah, why?”
She nodded toward the far end of the car and he heard what Kate obviously already had.
Some blamed idiot was knocking on the compartment door like a pileated woodpecker. Sam ignored it but the knocking grew more insistent.
Kate lowered her cup. Sam stood and threw his napkin to the seat of his chair.
“Excuse me,” he said, and then muttered, “I have to crack open someone’s skull.”
Sam crossed the compartment in five angry strides and yanked open the door. Cole stood on the stairs with one fine snakeskin boot on the top of the platform. Something in his expression brought Sam to instant alert.
“What’s happened?”
Sam held up a single folded sheet of paper. “You better read this. It came by courier a few minutes ago. It’s from Crawford.”
Sam had a strong premonition of disaster. He stepped out of the car and stood on the stairs. Cole handed over the note and retreated down the stairs. Sam looked at Cole once more for reassurance and instead saw a tight, guarded expression. His apprehension doubled.
“To hell with this,” he said, and flipped open the page.
Mr. Ellis,
Please locate Mr. Pickett immediately and tell him that Kate Wells is implicated in the robbery that occurred on the eighteenth day of April of this year. It appears likely that she is in the employment of Mr. Robert Donahue. She is armed and all precautions should be taken.
I have possession of a gold necklace purchased by Mr. Pickett. It was found in the custody of Miss Barbara Burns, the co-conspirator who lured Mr. Pickett into the alley on the above date. Miss Burns alleges that Mrs. Wells gave the necklace to her for her part in the ruse perpetrated on Mr. Pickett.
Your servant,
Mr. Allen Crawford
Pinkerton Detective Agency
Sacramento Office
The page fluttered from Sam’s hand to land in the dirt at Cole’s feet.
Sam stood on the steps of the railcar, still as stone as his heart fell to dust. Inside his chest a great emptiness grew, tunneling like a mine shaft, vacant, hollow, cold.
“Sam, I…” Cole’s words fell off.
What did you say to a man who had been played the fool?
“I wanted to marry her,” whispered Sam, realizing he still wanted to. “My God, ain’t I the prize-winning rube at the fair?”
He’d considered this possibility, even asked her point-blank if she’d been involved. But her astonishment and then outrage had been enough to convince him.
Sam clamped his mouth shut as he considered this final abandonment, the abandonment of his trust. Kate had confirmed what he had always feared. He was not worthy of love. His mother hadn’t thought so, nor had his brother. They had tossed him away like so much garbage and now Kate had done the same.
He turned away from his friend in a vain effort to compose himself. What did a man do after his guts had been kicked out?
Sam slipped his hands into his pockets. His fingers touched the lid of the leather box. Sam dragged the thing from his trousers and threw it with all his might. It bounced off the sided of the railcar and came to rest near Cole’s feet.
Cole stared at the dusty box. “What was that?”
My future, he thought. “Just another mistake.”
He headed back up the steps. His legs now seemed cast of lead and his arms hung heavy at his sides.
“Remember she’s got a gun,” said Cole.
Sam stared at his friend. “Kinda pointless shooting a man who she’s already stabbed in the back.”
Sam trudged up the stairs as anxious to reach his destination as a condemned man. But he couldn’t turn back until this whole charade was finished.
Of course he couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t marry anyone. No one wanted him or needed him. Nothing had changed except that for a few days he had forgotten that. But he was still the man he had always been, solitary, raw and aching.
He entered the car and found Kate still sitting properly before her untouched breakfast. Her smile faded as she took him in.
“Bad news?” she asked.
“Very bad.” He made it to the chair and then clung to the back, squeezing the padding as if he meant to choke the life from it. “They caught the woman. The decoy from the alley.”
Kate wrinkled her brow.
She must know now that he had unmasked her, yet her face revealed nothing. The woman should be on the stage.
“But that’s good news, isn’t it?” she asked.
So she would deny it to the last, then.
Why did he still want her when there was nothing between them but lies?
“Sam?” She rose now, standing beside her place.
“She says you two were partners.”
Her forehead stayed wrinkled a moment, as if she didn’t already know. He had a moment’s doubt as her eyes rounded in an expression of complete surprise.
“But that’s a lie!”
“Is it, or is everything you’ve said since I met you been the lie?”
She took a step toward him.
“Where’s the necklace, Kate?”
She faltered and then stopped. She didn’t have it. Still, his stupid heart clung to hope.
“Get it,” he said, finding his words sounded more like a plea than an order.
Her head drooped. “I can’t, Sam.”
“Because you gave it to your partner.”
Kate stood in a surreal world. What was happening? Her hand moved to her throat, touching the place where the necklace should have been.
She had never seen Sam like this. His face was pale and his visage grim as death. The muscle at his jaw ticked and a blood vessel twisted across his forehead, pulsing like a dying snake.
“I gave it to my aunt to pay our bills,” she whispered.
He pressed his hand across his eyes as if he could no longer bear to look at her. She took another step in his direction, but something about his rigid posture made her stop. He’d never struck her, but he looked so angry, so bereft, it frightened her.
His hand slid away and she saw that his expression had changed. It was his eyes she noticed first. The sorrow had left them. Now he looked at her with the cold stare of a stranger, as if she meant nothing to him.
“It’s over,” he said.
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. No, he couldn’t send her away, not now, not when…
“But I love you,” she cried.
He turned toward the window. “Don’t. There’s no point now.�
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“I’m sorry about the necklace, Sam. But we had debts. You knew why I agreed to this. But all that’s changed now. Please, Sam. You have to forgive me.”
He whipped around so fast that she staggered back.
“No, I don’t. All this time, I’ve been pouring my heart out and you’ve been using me.”
“No.”
“Well, I won’t be your fool any longer. You’re leaving today. When you get back to San Francisco, tell Donahue hello.”
“Sam, no.”
But he was walking away, leaving her, sending her off.
She wanted to sink to her knees and weep, but instead she snatched up her gloves and reticule and followed him. He was already down the stairs by the time she reached the compartment door.
Kate glanced about and saw that they had arrived at the rail’s end. Chinese laborers carried baskets of earth and wooden ties along the track. Mule teams pulled wagons of gravel along the parallel road. Beyond, a wall of rock loomed and at the base, a neat arched tunnel led into the darkness.
She caught sight of Sam and ran after him. His friend saw her first and said something to him. Sam turned and glared at her.
“Rider!” called the Pinkerton standing on the ridge overlooking the track. “Coming fast!”
They moved to the rocky outcrop beside the newly blasted tunnel. The rider appeared a few moments later, running at a gallop on a lathered, winded horse.
Sam glanced at Cole. “That Crawford?”
Cole nodded.
Crawford charged up the gentle grade leading to the terminus of the rails, his head swiveling as he approached the workers. He slowed to a canter and stood in his stirrups until he spotted them.
His dismount was smooth. He spoke to Cole. “You’ve got trouble coming. We kicked a hornet’s nest. I filed charges on your behalf and Donahue sent his men after you both. They’ll be here anytime.”
Kate acted on instinct, moving close to Sam’s side. Crawford’s eyes narrowed on her as he spoke to Cole.
