Not overly sure what she was feeling, yet inclined to answer, Maddie nodded.
“You scared the life out of me, Maddie, girl.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead again. While his lips were still pressed against her skin, he whispered, “The very life out of me.”
He was so kind and understanding. Had been right from the start, and that was unusual for her life. She was used to looking out for herself, and had been amiss in not paying attention, watching the valley instead of the trail.
Everything returned in a rush, though this time worry overtook her instead of fear. “The mules.”
“They’re right there.” He pointed to where all four animals stood against the mountainside a few feet away before he took hold of both of her elbows. “Do you think you can stand?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m fine.”
Although her legs felt as rickety and unsteady as a three-legged chair, she willed her knees to do their job as he helped her to her feet. Lucky didn’t let loose of her elbows, even after she nodded, silently telling him she could stand on her own.
His smile grew remarkably tender, and his gaze held something Maddie couldn’t describe. She’d never seen anything like it and had to close her eyes, hoping to seal it in her memory so she could analyze it later, because right now it was causing her heart to miss beats uncontrollably.
“Aw, darling.”
She opened her eyes at his whisper, but he was too close to see, and the next instant his lips, warm and moist, connected with hers. The sensation was like being struck by lightning, or something out of the realm of the world she’d known all her life. Her eyes closed once again, as if her mind, without telling her why, wanted to seal this, too, into her memory.
His lips left hers but only to return again, like a flat rock thrown just right, so it would gently skim over the top of a pond. She’d always been amazed by that, and this was just as incredible. When Lucky’s lips settled upon hers for an extended length of time, her knees threatened to give way all over again.
As gentle and perfect as the kiss had started—she was sure this time that it was a kiss—it ended, and Lucky once again folded his arms around her and held her tight. She didn’t know when her arms had wrapped around his waist, but they had, and she kept them there, hugging him in return.
They parted by some mutual, silent understanding a short time later. Maddie wasn’t sure what to do, how to react, and wondered if she should be embarrassed, letting him kiss her like that, but couldn’t come up with a reason why. Not when deep inside she was longing to be as close to him as possible. It was strong, similar to how badly she wanted gold.
But that couldn’t be. She didn’t want anything as badly as she wanted gold. “Why—why’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
Her cheeks burned. “Kiss me.”
He stared at her for a long time, but it wasn’t a harsh or unkind stare. It was thoughtful and that confused her, or maybe scared her, a bit.
“That wasn’t a kiss,” he finally said.
“Yes, it was,” she argued. “You kissed me. Why?”
He sighed. “Because I’m glad you’re all right, but that wasn’t a kiss. If I were to kiss you, really kiss you, you’d know it.” He turned her around by her shoulders. “You walk ahead of me. I’ll bring the mules.”
More confused than ever, but having no idea what to say or do, she replied, “You can’t lead all four mules.”
“Sure I can.”
She had no doubt he could. He seemed capable of doing most anything, yet she had to pull her own weight. Always had. “No, I’ll follow you. I can lead my own mules.”
He laughed and she spun around. There was a teasing glimmer in his brown eyes. “I know you can, darling, but this one time, you’re going to do what I say.” He spun her back around. “Until we’re off this ridge, you’ll walk in front of me and I’ll lead all four mules. Now start walking. Just go slow and stay next to the wall.”
“But—”
“Maddie,” he said sterner than before. “Start walking.”
For a moment she considered protesting again, but he had just saved her life; therefore, she put one wobbly foot in front of the other. Considering how her entire being trembled, not leading mules was probably smart, at least for a short distance.
The distance turned out to be much more than short. By the time they rounded a corner where a grassy plateau stretched out before them, Maddie was not only thankful to be off the tedious trial, she’d regained a goodly amount of strength.
“Let’s stop over there,” Lucky said, “near that clump of trees.”
Maddie led the way, seeing to her two mules while Lucky saw to his. Her animals didn’t appear affected at all by Maddie’s recent suspension from the edge of the cliff. Not even the rope was frayed. Her insides were, and might never be the same. She glanced toward Lucky as he dug in a pack, and her heart skipped a beat. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he’d kissed her, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d liked it.
Joining her on the rock, he handed over a napkin full of raisins, a chunk of bread and a strip of jerky. “How’re you doing?”
“Fine,” she answered, nibbling on a few raisins. She’d never tasted them until this trip and was glad he hadn’t sold them all to Truman. They were sweet and moist and she could understand why the miners liked them so much. Yet the raisins didn’t distract her from thoughts of his kisses for too long. She needed to stop thinking about it, though. “How much farther do you think it is?”
“Not exactly sure,” he answered. “There should be a large outcropping of rocks soon, and we’re to turn left shortly before reaching them, then there’ll be a creek to follow until we come to the river.”
“That’s where Whiskey Jack is?”
He shook his head and finished chewing his bread before answering, “Nope, we have to go someway upriver until we come to his camp.” After a swallow from the canteen, which he then handed to her, he said, “We can make camp here. Rest for a while if you’re too tired.”
“No.” She glanced at the sky, but hadn’t been able to figure out the time of day up here, not by the sun anyway. Walking though would give her time to think. “I’d rather keep going. We can still make his camp today, don’t you think?”
“I suspect so, but I don’t want you going on if you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt.” Gesturing toward her coat and skirt, which were now dry, but dirtier than anything she’d ever worn since growing old enough to wash her own clothes, she said, “I may look a mess, but I’m fine. Really, I am.”
Lucky eyed her critically for several moments before he nodded. “All right, after the mules have rested we’ll take off again.”
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, other than the noise of the mules munching and stomping now and again. Once Maddie was done, she folded her napkin into a small square. She was contemplating the kiss again. What had he meant when he’d said she’d know a real kiss when it happened? That had been a real kiss.
He shook out his napkin before folding it, as well. “So,” he asked, “besides buying the biggest bed possible, what are you going to do with your gold?”
The breath she drew in was as wistful as the dreams that filled her head. “I’m going to build a big house and fill it with furniture, including a bathtub. It’ll have a big kitchen, too, with a never-ending supply of food, and I’ll hire someone to cook all sorts of things.”
The smile had slipped from Lucky’s face, and Maddie held her breath, wondering why.
“Where are you going to build this house?” he asked.
Surprised by his question, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll return to Colorado, to put a marker on Smitty’s grave, but I don’t know if I’d want to live there.” If she went south again, Mad Dog
might find her, and she wasn’t ready to contemplate that. “Will you go sailing again? After you find your gold?”
Chapter Six
“No,” Cole said. He’d head straight to New Orleans. Not to live, but to turn over a goodly sum of money. Show his mother leaving had been a good thing. For him and the family. For Rachel, too. Robbie had said she’d married James Hinz two years ago. Other than feeling a bit sorry for James, the news had been of little interest.
It was hard to say what he’d do after visiting his family. He might return to sailing with Trig, but that had lost some of its appeal. Yet living in one place wasn’t for him. Unlike Maddie. The fear from seeing her hanging over the edge of that cliff was still as fresh in his mind as the taste of her lips on his mouth. Not even the sweetness of the raisins had diminished that. Cole sprang to his feet. “We better get moving before the mules decide to take a nap.”
Arriving at Whiskey Jack’s camp was more important now than ever. The desires he felt were getting too hard to ignore. Being alone with her had long ago grown testing, but it was now downright dangerous. Kissing her had been more foolish than sharing a tent. It had been an impulse. A foolish, reckless whim. But seeing her in such danger and then knowing she was safe had done something to him.
There was no trail, but the ground was even, leaving plenty of room for them to walk side by side, which seemed to give Maddie free rein to chat. And she did. About the big house she’d build, all the servants she’d hire and how warm and comfortable the big bed she’d buy would be.
Cole, shy of moaning, commented now and again while his mind toyed with other things. Like how comfortable he imagined that big bed she spoke of could be. He could imagine she’d get that entire house, servants and all. It was also easy to imagine kissing her again. Really kissing her. Like he’d wanted to, but had held back.
They were so different. Him and her. He already had all the things she wanted. A fine house. Big, comfortable beds. Servants. Food. They’d just never been enough for him. And they never would be. He wanted adventure. Always had. Gran had said he was just like his father and grandfather and that he shouldn’t try to change that.
“Look,” she said, catching his attention. “Do you think that’s the outcropping?”
In the distance, a large set of jagged rocks stretched out from the mountain as if they were trying to start their own range. “I do believe that’s it,” he said.
Little more than a mile later, they crossed the creek and they started following it downstream. The landscape changed again, taking them through a wooded and swampy area full of scrawny tamarack trees. The trees gave way next to a river, its shoreline wide and sandy, and much to Cole’s relief, for Maddie’s steps had grown slower, as had the mules’, they arrived at Whiskey Jack’s camp less than an hour later.
The old man saw them coming and shouted, “Ahoy!” loud enough that it echoed along the valley over and over.
“Is that Whiskey Jack?” Maddie asked.
“Sure enough is,” Cole answered.
“He’s a friend of Trig’s?”
“A friend of the entire family. He sailed with my grandfather years ago.” Cole hadn’t shared a lot about his family, or Whiskey Jack. At first because he hadn’t planned on taking her into the goldfields with him. Later, he’d kept quiet because he hadn’t wanted Whiskey Jack to scare her out of her pantaloons. However, considering how feisty Maddie was, there probably wasn’t much that could scare her.
Maybe that was why her scream startled him so much. Snapping his head her way, he snatched the gun from her hand before she fired. “Damn, you’re quick with that thing,” Cole said, uncocking the lever as he had last night.
Protecting her head with both hands, she cowered slightly while Homer zoomed above them. “What is that?”
“A bird,” Cole answered.
“I’ve never seen one like that,” she squealed, ducking as Homer swooped lower.
Whiskey Jack whistled and the bird made a graceful arch, changing directions to fly back toward his owner.
“Homer’s a macaw,” Cole explained while untwisting the lead rope she’d managed to wrap all the way around her wrist. “Whiskey Jack’s had him for as long as I can remember.”
“It’s as big as a goose,” Maddie said, taking the rope belonging to her mules.
“Almost,” Cole agreed. It was the little things he liked about her. No matter what the situation, she remained steadfast, kept her head and wits about her. “Just a lot more colorful,” he added, referring to Homer’s bright red, blue and yellow feathers. “Stay calm around him,” Cole warned as he handed back her gun. “He doesn’t like fast movements and is very protective of Whiskey Jack and his possessions.”
“He must be awfully old,” she said gesturing her chin toward the short man standing near a fire ring. “Both of them.”
“Yes, they are,” Cole answered, chuckling. The man hadn’t changed in years, except for his clothes. Right now, he had on a hide coat, and it was hard to tell where the human hair stopped and the fur started. There was no way to guess how old Jack might be, either, considering that he’d seemed ancient decades ago, when he’d visited the family with Uncle Trig.
Homer was strutting back and forth in front of his owner like a guard dog and Cole, having witnessed the bird snap some good-size branches in two with its beak more than once, had stopped Maddie and the mules from taking any steps closer.
“You made it,” Whiskey Jack said in greeting.
“Yes, we did,” Cole answered.
“Who’s the gal?”
“This is Maddie.”
Whiskey Jack scratched at the long black-and-gray beard hanging from his lips to his chest while squinting, casting his gaze from Maddie’s toes to her nose. Cole held his breath. He’d wondered what the old man’s reaction would be to having a woman in the camp, but ultimately had decided that if she wasn’t welcome, they’d go out on their own.
“Homer,” Whiskey Jack finally said, “you best be on your best behavior. No cussing around the lady.”
“No cussing,” the bird repeated. “No cussing.”
Maddie, eyes wide, turned his way. “It talks?”
“Yep,” Cole answered, laughing.
“More than I want at times,” Whiskey Jack said. “Put the mules over in the paddock with Emily.” He gestured toward a mule in a small fenced-in area. “No sense unpacking all your goods. I’ve got plenty and you can use my extra tent until you stake your claim.” Waving toward his smoking fire, he added, “Just frying up some fish for supper. Got more than enough. Hurry up, it’s almost done.”
Relieved by their welcome, Cole did as instructed, with Maddie helping him. There were a total of four tents and a small shelter made of tree trunks for the mules to be out of the weather when necessary. The main tent was twice as large as the others and had a wooden base a good three feet high. He’d have to take a closer look at that one in order to build a similar one for him and Maddie when they needed to set up camp.
After they’d carried the last of their possessions inside a small storage tent, Cole untied a bag of raisins. As they walked toward the scent of frying fish, he handed Maddie a palmful of the dried fruits. “Feed these to Homer. He’ll remember and like you.”
“Does everything like raisins?”
“Just about,” he answered, chuckling again. He liked that about her, too—how she made him laugh.
“Weather’s been good,” Whiskey Jack said as they approached. “River’s flowing stronger every day.”
Cole turned over a stump and indicated Maddie could sit on it. “Bringing gold with it, I hope,” he said while taking a seat on another stump.
Whiskey Jack let out a chortle and Homer shrieked, which not only stung Cole’s ears, it startled Maddie almost off her stump. He reached over and laid a hand on
her knee. Mud had crusted on her skirt, but still his palm stung. If not for the shimmer in her eyes, he might have withdrawn his hand.
“There’s gold, that’s for sure,” Whiskey Jack said. “Lots of color in this area. More than I can gather. Sharing it with Belmont’s grandson seemed the right choice. He shared his riches with me on more than one voyage.” A smile showed the old man didn’t have many teeth left, yet his weathered face turned serene when he asked, “How’s your gran these days? I ain’t seen her in a long time. A very long time.”
“She’s doing well,” Cole answered. His insides took on a splattering of warmth, and he withheld the news about the hurricane for now. “Still running the warehouses, though mostly from a rocking chair on the front porch of her house.”
Whiskey Jack laughed. “You know, son, there’s women and then there’s ladies. Your gran’s a lady. Always was. I remember the first day we ever laid eyes on her, Belmont and I. We’d just shored our schooner at a small town several miles north of Boston. Something had spooked the two fine white horses pulling her carriage. Belmont took after them as though he was half horse himself.”
Cole grinned, having heard the story several times.
“What happened?” Maddie asked.
The way she was pitching the raisins, one by one, toward Homer without looking at the bird had Cole biting his lip. She knew about animals, too.
“Belmont stopped the horses,” Whiskey Jack said. “And before we set sail two months later, Belmont and Annabelle were married. She gave birth to Cole’s father on that first voyage, along with his uncle Trig. I remember that day, too. Those were two fine-looking babies.”
Whiskey Jack pulled the pan off the fire and slid the fish onto three plates he’d balanced on the rocks. Using a nearby stick, he shooed Homer from getting too close as he asked, “Got any more of those raisins you’re giving my bird?”
Maddie glanced his way and Cole nodded before he reached for the bag by his feet.
A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter Page 9
