by Tess LeSue
“Not if I don’t have anything to say,” Matt replied. He radiated calm and practicality, and looked every inch a woodsman. Which, she supposed, he was.
“What has your lovely wife told you about this meeting?”
Matt met his gaze. “She told me you’ve got her son.”
Georgiana tensed. She had no idea how this was going to go. Hec struck her as a mistrustful man.
“Someone had to care for the boy when his father died.”
Matt nodded. “I reckon we’re grateful to you, then.”
Hec tilted his head on the side. “He’s almost like a son to me now.”
The judge snorted, and Georgiana almost jumped out of her skin.
“Enough of this nonsense,” the old judge said. “I ain’t sitting here all night, and Peanut will be needing a walk. You’ve had your fun, now let’s get this document signed and get on with things.”
Hec shot him an evil look, then readjusted his expression and turned back to Matt. “You must understand how fond I am of the boy. We’ve spent a long time together.”
“I’m sure the boy is fond of you too.”
How he managed to say that with a straight face, Georgiana never knew.
“It’s been my pleasure to care for him until his momma came, Mr. Slater,” Hec said. His face didn’t seem to quite be cooperating with his voice. He couldn’t seem to help the smug little quirking of his lips.
“And, as my husband says, we are very grateful,” Georgiana told him. “More than I can ever say.” She almost choked on the words.
“I’ve also been more than happy to protect your assets here in Moke Hill, Mrs. Slater.” Hec tried, and failed, to look humble.
She bet he had. She bet he’d hauled a good amount of gold out of her land as well.
“For the love of God, Hec, you do waffle on.” The judge slapped his folder and ink pot down on the table. “He’s buying the land off you. There don’t seem to be any disagreement about that. The documents are right here, ready for signing.”
“Buying?” Hec’s voice turned poisonous. “We ain’t talked none about ‘buying.’”
“Slip of the tongue,” the judge said dryly. “I forgot the matter of the ‘reward.’” He grinned at Georgiana. “It is kind of you to recognize his protection of your son in such a generous way.”
“We’re generous people,” Matt said, equally dryly.
That was the moment Hec realized Matt wasn’t simple. Georgiana saw it happen. He suddenly seemed a whole lot less friendly. If such a thing was possible.
“Do you read?” the judge asked Matt.
“Yes.” Matt took the document in his big hand. He read it and then looked up at Hec. “We don’t want any trouble, mister,” he said frankly. “And we got no interest in any gold. My wife wants her son and then we’re out of your town and off for Oregon.”
Hec sat back in his chair. He was suspicious. Suspicious and disbelieving.
“You’re an idiot, son,” the judge told Matt as he passed him the quill. “You ain’t got any idea what you’re losing.”
“No,” Matt said, his gaze meeting Georgiana’s across the table, “you don’t have any idea what I’m gaining.”
She almost cried at that. She’d never expected when she’d advertised for a husband that she would find a man like Matt Slater. He had all of the qualities she’d wanted in a man, and so many she never thought existed. He’d taken care of her through the darkest days of her life. And it didn’t even cross his mind to keep the gold he’d taken rightful ownership of when he married her. The gold meant nothing to him. He looked at her like she was the treasure.
“Wait!” she said. “You can’t sign until we see Leo. I need to know he’s well. That he’s alive . . . ”
Hec stood, the chair scraping on the floorboards, and she jumped. “He’s fine,” Hec snapped. “If you’re trying to stall . . .”
“Please,” she said. “Matt’s right. We don’t want your gold. But we’re not signing until you give me my son.”
“Get the boy, Wendell,” the judge ordered.
“You ain’t in charge here!”
“Sure I am. I’m the judge.” The old man picked something from his teeth, not even bothering to look in Hec’s direction. “Off you go, Wendell.”
Wendell stole a glance at Hec, who nodded tersely.
“You’d best watch your back, old man,” Hec warned.
“I already do.” The judge cackled. The sound made Georgiana’s hair stand on end.
“You see the boy, you sign, and then you leave town,” Hec told Matt. All pretense of civility was gone now. Hec was fixed on that gold claim, like a dog fixed on a bone.
“Sounds good to me.” Matt dipped the quill in the ink. Hec’s gaze was riveted on the nib. “You want us to leave tonight or wait until morning?”
“You leave straight after you sign.”
Georgiana would be glad to. Her heart was in her throat as she heard footsteps on the stairs. She turned and stood. She was shaking so hard she had to hold the back of the chair to steady herself.
And then, there he was. Her boy.
She gave a broken sob. Leo. It was Leo. He was half a foot taller, much taller than she was now, but it was Leo. The same big, serious blue eyes; the same dark curls; the same long face.
“Mother.” He said it numbly, like he didn’t quite believe she was there.
She lurched toward him.
“Not so fast!” Hec reached out and grabbed her arm.
Matt was on his feet in a second, his chair flying across the room. “Let go of my wife!”
Suddenly, there were guns drawn. One of them was held right to Leo’s head.
“I just wanted to touch him,” she said weakly.
“After Slater has signed.” Hec was squeezing the blood right out of her arm.
“After you let go of her,” Matt said fiercely. All placidity was gone. There was nothing simple about him now. He was an enormous, blazing mass of fury. “And get those guns back in their holsters.”
Hec nodded at the Koerners, who put their weapons away. “You’ve seen the boy,” he told the Slaters. “You see he’s well. Now, sign that contract.”
Leo was in one piece, but he didn’t look well. He was underfed and desperately pale. There were dark circles under his haunted eyes. She couldn’t wait to get out him out of here, to feed him and care for him. Every fiber of her body called out to touch him.
“All right, Boehm,” Matt said calmly, bending over the document. He touched the nib to the paper. “You let my wife go to her boy as I sign.”
“It ain’t official until I sign it and stamp it,” the judge sniffed.
“She can have the boy when the judge is done,” Hec said.
“Fine. Get those goons out of the doorway, so we can leave.”
The rest of it happened so quickly Georgiana’s head spun. There was the flick of the quill, then the smack of a stamp, and then Leo was in her arms and Matt was ushering them out of the room and down to the street. “Enjoy your gold, Boehm.”
“Oh, I will. Don’t have any accidents on the way out of town,” he called after them. Then he laughed.
“Move,” Matt instructed Georgiana and Leo. “I don’t trust him.”
Georgiana wouldn’t let Leo out of her sight as they dashed across the street.
“Leo!” The twins were impossible to contain when Georgiana and Matt burst into the hotel room with Leo. They launched themselves at their brother and had to be dragged off him by Matt.
“There’s time enough for that later,” he snapped. “We need to get out of here. I’ll take the lead wagon, you take the second,” Matt said to Georgiana. “Can you fire a weapon?” he asked Leo.
Leo nodded, and Matt passed him a pistol and two boxes of ammunition.
“How come
he gets a gun?” Phin asked, outraged.
“He’s going to protect your mother while she drives.” Matt grabbed him and swung him up into the back of the lead wagon. “You lot are coming with me. Your ma and Leo have a lot to talk about.”
“Give us the rifle, and we’ll protect you while you drive,” Flip suggested.
Matt snorted. “I can drive and shoot.”
Matt passed LeFoy an envelope to give to Wendell. “Tell him it’s what I owe him, plus a bit extra.”
“Becky!” Georgiana called to the girl, who was standing on the porch with the LeFoys.
“I’m going to stay,” the girl called back.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded vigorously.
Georgiana reached down and gave her a hug. “Good luck, Becky.”
The girl smiled. She looked surprised she was getting her way.
“I need to stop and see Seline as we leave town,” Georgiana told Matt as she took the reins. “I have some land she might like to buy.”
The LeFoy girls chased alongside the wagons as they rolled down the street, waving them off. They weren’t the only ones who said farewell. Hec Boehm gave Georgiana a jaunty wave as she passed under his window. Then he flicked the ashes from his cigar onto the street below and laughed. Oh God, she’d be glad to never see him again as long as she lived.
They found the whores camped on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss them. Their campsite looked like a fairground: the lanterns were lit, there was music playing, and Seline stood on the back of a wagon, advertising the assets of her girls. She saw the Slaters pull up and gave them a wave. She looked flabbergasted when Georgiana gestured her over.
“Is this your boy?” Seline asked breathlessly, when she finally managed to push through the crowd to Georgiana’s wagon. “He’s a handsome lad.”
Georgiana was glad to see Leo look at Seline with no small measure of distaste. Although she also noticed his eyes couldn’t help but drop to the whore’s all-too-exposed breasts.
“We’re leaving town,” she told the whore.
“So I see. And I can see why. These men are animals!” She pulled a face as she surveyed the debauchery of her camp. “Still, a girl can make a pretty penny out of animals like these.”
“I have land on the main street that I won’t be needing,” Georgiana said. She had the deed ready. “It strikes me that the location would be a handy place to build a whorehouse.”
Seline’s eyebrows shot up, and she gave a startled laugh. “I thought you didn’t approve of whorehouses?”
“This seems like the kind of town that would suit one,” Georgiana said dryly. She didn’t mean it as a compliment.
Seline grinned. “What kind of price are you thinking?”
Georgiana named her price.
Seline laughed. Then she realized Georgiana wasn’t joking.
“We’ve got a long journey ahead,” Georgiana told her, “and we had to leave town before we restocked. You can have the land in exchange for all the foodstuffs you have on hand. Any barrels of water you have too.”
And so they left town fully provisioned for the journey ahead. And Seline was the happy new owner of a prime location in the richest little gold town between here and San Francisco.
Georgiana felt her spirits lift as they struck out from Moke Hill. She savored the look of admiration Matt gave her as he loaded Seline’s supplies into their wagons. She’d done it. She’d set out from New York all those months ago, afraid and alone, green as a new leaf. It had been a hard and horrid year. The loss of Wilby would leave a scar that would never heal. But she had survived, and she would continue to survive. And she had Leo! The twins and Susannah hung over the backboard of Luke’s wagon, grinning like monkeys and waving at them as they rattled along. The twins pulled ugly faces at their brother. Georgiana laughed. She had her children. And she had Matt. They were free. And they were together.
She didn’t think she’d ever felt such soaring joy in all her life. She turned to grin at her eldest son, reaching out to tousle his hair.
He didn’t grin back.
“Oh, honey,” she said, unable to stop the waterfall of happy tears. “It’s going to be all right.” She pressed a kiss against his cheek. It seemed magical that he was here beside her and that she could touch him whenever she wanted to.
But he wriggled away from her.
“Mother,” he said, his expression grave, “you didn’t really marry that man, did you?”
Her heart went out to him. “I know it’s a shock, but he’s a wonderful man. The others adore him, and he’s been so good to us . . .”
“You can’t marry him.”
She squeezed his arm. “Oh, darling, I know it must be a surprise.”
“No, you don’t understand. You can’t marry him!”
“I already have.”
He closed his eyes and groaned. “No.”
“Yes. Back at Fort Hall, months ago.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice was deeper than it had been the last time she’d seen him, and he seemed far more adult. He opened his eyes and fixed her with a firm stare. “You can’t marry him, because you’re already married.” It was his turn to give her arm a squeeze. “You can’t marry him . . . because Father is still alive.”
39
IT WAS A nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. Georgiana felt like throwing up. Her ears were ringing, and the world was too bright and too sharp. It had to be a nightmare.
“What do you mean, he’s still alive?”
The story Leo told was sickeningly believable.
Of course Leonard had abandoned his son and faked his death to save his own hide. Goddamn him for a useless coward.
“He said to meet him in San Jose after you got me back from Boehm,” Leo said.
“How did he know I would get you back?”
They question hung between them, an unanswerable horror. He couldn’t have known. That was the God’s honest truth. He’d had absolutely no way of knowing that Georgiana would get to Leo safely. New York was a hell of a long way from Mokelumne Hill. What if Boehm couldn’t be bothered to send word to Georgiana? What if he’d simply killed Leo and bribed the judge and taken the land? What if he’d abused the boy, in any number of ways Georgiana couldn’t bear to think about? There were far too many “what ifs.” The fact was that Leonard had abandoned his son.
And he was alive. The goddamn son of a bitch was alive.
“Do you think he’ll even be in San Jose?” Georgiana asked.
Leo shrugged. He had a cynical look that didn’t belong on a boy of his age. It made her heart ache.
Alive. Oh God. The horror of it. Georgiana circled the idea, her stomach lurching. If he was alive . . . then she was a bigamist.
The world seemed to fall out from beneath her. Oh God. She was still married to Leonard.
“Mother? You’re not going to faint, are you?” Leo took the reins out of her hands. “Where are your smelling salts?”
Georgiana laughed. It was a jagged, hopeless sound. Smelling salts. She was no longer the type of woman who carried smelling salts. She’d hauled this wagon over boulders the size of small houses, had traversed deserts and had forged across raging rivers. She wasn’t one to faint. Certainly not over Leonard bloody Blunt.
But Matt . . .
His wagon rumbled along ahead of them, raising a cloud of dust that was silvered by moonlight. She couldn’t see him, but she could picture him, sitting with his legs splayed, with his elbows resting on his knees. She’d seen him drive so many endless hours in exactly that position, his expression serene as the children chattered at him.
Oh God.
Grief hit her like a flash flood. It roiled through her, as dark and devastating as it had been when Wilby was taken by the river.
No. Don’t think a
bout it. Not yet. It had been more than a year since Leonard had left Leo in Mokelumne Hill. Anything might have happened in a year. He might actually be dead.
She winced. Oh God, now she was wishing the father of her children dead. What kind of person was she becoming?
Damn you, Leonard Blunt. This is all your fault.
“You need to tell him,” Leo said, bringing her sharply back to the moment. He held the reins loosely, confidently, looking much older than his years.
“Tell who?” But she knew what he was talking about.
“Him.” Leo nodded at the wagon in front of him.
“Not yet,” Georgiana said, a touch desperately. “We’ll get to San Jose first. We’ll see . . .”
“See what?” Leo sounded exasperated. “It doesn’t matter if he’s there or not; he’s alive and he’s your husband. Which means he can’t be.”
It was like having a knife plunged between her ribs and into her heart. She put her hand to her mouth to stop the noise that was rising up her throat.
No, she thought fiercely. It wasn’t fair! She’d come all this way . . . she’d walked through hell . . . and all she wanted, all she needed, was Matt.
She loved him, she realized, as the knife lodged permanently in her heart, causing a pain that would never leave her.
So this was what love was. It was nothing like the frothy feeling she’d had for Leonard in her youth. There was nothing light and airy about this. It was as solid as the earth beneath her feet, as natural as breathing, as monumental as the mountains. It was a part of her, something so essential that living without it felt like a kind of death.
The only thing Georgiana knew was that Matt was her husband. The only husband she ever wanted.
“We’ll wait,” she told Leo firmly.
“But—”
“No!” She cut him off. “I’m your mother. You’ll do as I ask in this. I will tell him, but not yet. I need time to think.”
“There’s nothing to think about. You can’t change the facts.”
The knife twisted in her heart.
“Just give me until San Jose,” she said. Maybe by then, she could find a way to work a miracle . . .
