A Love to Cherish

by Connie Mason

  “How do you suppose Mrs. Henderson came up lame, Wentz?” London asked the vulgar man sitting across from him and Casey.

  “Who cares.” Wentz gave a lascivious laugh. “She’s like any other woman where it counts. It’s not her legs I’m interested in, but what’s between them.” He licked his thick lips. “Dinks says she’s good, real good.”

  London looked skeptical. “I wouldn’t put stock in anything Dinks said. He’s drunk more often than not these days.”

  Casey decided he liked Bram London and couldn’t abide Wentz. “I strongly suggest you don’t repeat anything Dinks says, Mr. Wentz.”

  Wentz gazed into the depths of Casey’s hazel eyes, and the recognition of something ruthless and dangerous in them passed over his face. He instinctively sidled away from Casey, as if trying to escape some deadly peril.

  “I don’t know what business it is of yours, mister,” Wentz challenged, “but if it will make you feel better, everyone knows Dinks is a liar.” He rose abruptly. “I gotta go, can’t sit around jawing all day.”

  “Me, too,” London said. “See ya around, Walker.”

  Casey sat brooding over his empty coffee cup, knowing that Dinks’ personal claims about Belle were false, yet wondering if somewhere in his words lay a thread of truth.

  “Would you like more coffee, Mr. Walker?”

  Casey looked up and saw Belle standing beside him with a coffeepot in one hand. Damn, she had the prettiest brown eyes he’d ever seen. And her mouth. A man could get lost staring into those warm brown eyes and thinking about what she could do to him with that sweet mouth. He blinked, startled by the direction of his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to think of Belle as anything but a means to get Mark out of jail. Only a sentimental fool would allow himself to become enmeshed in her life, or involve himself in things that might distract him from his job.

  “Did you hear me, Mr. Walker? Would you like more coffee?”

  “Casey, my name is Casey. And more coffee would be welcome. Damn good coffee, Belle. In fact, the whole meal was excellent. Well worth the four bits you charge. Why don’t you join me? The dinner rush is over and you deserve to relax a few minutes.”

  “There are still the dishes,” Belle reminded him. But she sat down anyway, absently rubbing the kinks out of her lame leg.

  Casey wished he could take over the chore for her, but he knew better than to risk touching her so intimately. He was smart enough to recognize his attraction for her and knew he couldn’t afford to succumb to it.

  “How did that happen?”

  Belle gave him a wry look. “My lameness? It was an accident. I was very young and don’t remember too much about it.”

  “Does it bother you much?”

  Belle shrugged. “Only when I’m on my feet for long hours at a time.”

  “Which is every day,” Casey guessed.

  “I have to make a living.” From the corner of her eye Belle saw Dolores gathering dirty dishes from the tables. “I’ll be right there to help with the cleaning up, Dolores,” she called out.

  “Don’t bother, senora, Sanchez and I can clean up tonight. You’ve worked hard enough for one day.”

  They were alone now, the last customer had left, and Casey poured coffee into a clean cup and set it before Belle. “Here, I think you could use this. I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

  “Are you having second thoughts about taking this job? It’s all right if you are, because I’m also wondering if hiring you was wise.”

  “Hell no, I’m not having second thoughts. I just thought it’s time you told me the truth about why you and Tommy need protection.”

  Belle blanched. “I—you know all you need to know.”

  “I’m leaving now, Senora,” Dolores sang out. “Kitchen all clean and fire banked. Sanchez is helping Wan Yo. Be sure and lock the doors.”

  “Good night, and thank you,” Belle replied, unable to turn her gaze from the penetrating brilliance of Casey’s eyes.

  “Who are you afraid of, Belle?” Casey persisted doggedly.

  Belle stared at her hands, startled to find she had wadded her apron into a hopeless tangle.

  “I have to know who’s threatening you.”

  Belle felt the distressing need to unburden herself to this strong man, but fought it tooth and nail. She had learned not to give her trust lightly, and until Casey Walker proved himself worthy she’d keep her own council. If he couldn’t live with those terms then he wasn’t the kind of man she needed to protect Tommy.

  “You have all the information I’m willing to give,” she stubbornly insisted. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s Tommy’s bedtime. I think you’ll find everything you need in your room. The outhouse is out back, if you haven’t already found it. There’s a bathhouse down the street and—”

  “I’ve already explored the town, Belle. I’m fully aware of all its amenities. I’m sure the room will suit me just fine.”

  She stood. “Then I’ll bid you good night.”

  She turned abruptly and her lame leg, weakened from her long day, caught in her skirts. She stumbled clumsily and would have fallen if not for Casey’s intervention. Before she realized what happened, Casey had leapt to his feet and scooped her up into his arms.

  “You can put me down now, Mr. Walker, I’ll be fine. I’m not always this clumsy.”

  “If you call me Mr. Walker one more time I’m going to … kiss you each time it happens.”

  Good Lord, what was he thinking? He supposed it was having those lush lips so close that made him propose something so flagrantly outrageous.

  “Mr. Walker! You—”

  “I warned you,” Casey growled as his lips hovered inches from hers.

  She felt the searing heat of his mouth as it angled across hers. There was nothing gentle in his kiss. It was hard and hot and wet, and so arousing Belle felt a tingling sensation in places that hadn’t felt arousal since Tom had last made love to her over a year ago. She nearly wept with the joy of the forgotten sensation. Then she recalled who was kissing her. A stranger. A man who could be a vicious gunman, an outlaw, or even McAllister’s man.

  She tried to break off the kiss, but Casey was enjoying himself too damn much to stop. He nudged her lips apart and thrust his tongue into her mouth, groaning with the sheer pleasure of her sweet response as she touched her tongue to his and stroked. Casey knew she was no stranger to intimacy and his first thought was that he wanted to explore that passion to the fullest. His final outrageous thought was to wonder if she’d learned all her tricks at Naomi’s whorehouse.

  He let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. He wanted to find the nearest bed and he wanted to find it now.

  Belle felt the heat and strength of his arousal pressing against her thigh and realized where this could lead. Did Casey Walker think she was a whore? She was certainly acting like one. Was he like Dinks and his kind, who took what they wanted by force? She had hired Casey Walker for protection, not to fall victim to his charm.

  “Let me go!” She pulled free of his arms, her face mottled with rage. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Why not? You seemed to like it. Besides, I warned you what would happen the next time you called me Mr. Walker.”

  She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand but his unique taste remained on her lips. She whirled on her heel, stumbled, righted herself and limped away, her shoulders rigid.

  “Do you need help, Belle?” This time there was concern in his voice.

  “There is only one thing I need from you, Mr.—Casey, and that’s your gun. There are people who want Tommy. Protect him from those people, that’s all I want from you.”

  Her head held high, she disappeared into the kitchen. Casey thought her magnificent, and brave. And foolish. She didn’t have a prayer against a powerful man like T.J. McAllister.

  She didn’t have a prayer against Casey Walker, Pinkerton detective.

  Chapter 3

  Belle was careful to avoid C
asey in the days following the encounter in the dining hall. She couldn’t believe he had kissed her, couldn’t comprehend what had moved him to do it. She certainly hadn’t provoked him, or done anything to even suggest that she wanted his kisses. She touched her lips with her fingertip. She imagined she could still feel the pressure of his mouth on hers, and was surprised at the tingling heat that pooled low in her belly.

  Shaking her head to clear it of thoughts that were far too erotic, Belle dug her hands into the pile of bread dough on the counter and kneaded furiously. Why had Casey Walker come to Placerville? Anyone could see he wasn’t a miner. He looked too prosperous to be a saddle bum or a drifter. He could be a hired gun, she speculated, or even McAllister’s man. Yet if she believed that, why had she hired him to protect Tommy?

  Obviously because he had defended her against Dinks, she decided. It didn’t appear as if he meant either her or Tommy any harm, so she had recklessly hired him as a bodyguard. Dear God, why did he have to come to Placerville now? She touched her mouth again, thinking how wonderfully erotic Casey’s lips had felt against hers. In the year since Tom’s death, Belle had neither the time nor the inclination to think of another man in a romantic sense.

  Not that men hadn’t tried to capture her attention. But she just hadn’t been interested. She had enough problems staying one step ahead of T.J. McAllister to consider a romantic relationship. Until Casey Walker had kissed her she was convinced she could live without love, without a man’s arms and comfort, and was damn annoyed that Casey’s kiss had made her feel like a woman again … a woman who had been without those things far too long. She wondered what there was about this man that attracted her. There were plenty of honest miners interested in her, but she hadn’t given them the time of day.

  “If you continue to punch the bread dough like that there won’t be enough left to bake.”

  “Oh.” Belle started violently. Swiveling her head, she saw Casey filling the doorway. His arms were crossed at his broad chest; the doorjamb supported one shoulder and his feet were crossed at the ankles. “You frightened me.” He was smiling, and she was momentarily distracted by his dimples.

  “I get the distinct feeling that you’ve been avoiding me, Belle.”

  Belle turned back to her bread dough. “That’s nonsense. Is there something I can do for you?” She stopped abruptly and swung back around to face Casey. “Y-you haven’t noticed anything suspicious, have you? Tommy is all right, isn’t he? Why aren’t you watching him?”

  “Don’t get your dander up, boss lady. Tommy is fine. He’s sitting with Wan Yo. The old man is restless. He wants to be up and about but isn’t strong enough yet.”

  Belle’s relief was enormous. “It frightens me to have Tommy left unguarded.”

  Casey pushed himself away from the doorjamb and walked into the kitchen. “I haven’t noticed that Tommy is in danger. I’m more apt to think you’re the one who needs protecting. The town is teeming with men like Dinks. I don’t like the idea of you being alone in the dining hall.”

  Belle limped to the cupboard for bread pans and filled them with the bread dough beneath Casey’s watchful gaze. “I’m not usually alone. Dolores left after lunch to take care of Sanchez. He developed a fever so I sent her home. I don’t really need her until serving time. I can’t cook and serve both.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were alone?”

  “I didn’t think it was necessary.”

  “Dammit, I …”

  “Hey, Belle, you in there?”

  Belle frowned. The diner was closed for another two hours. Casey tensed, recognizing the voice. He glared at Belle. “Are you expecting company? Is that why you didn’t want me to know you’d be alone?”

  Belle sent him a fulminating look. She was beginning to run out of patience with Casey Walker and his vile insinuations.

  A moment later Dinks burst into the kitchen, followed in short order by two burly miners, all of whom reeked with the odor of hard liquor. Dinks slid to a halt when he spied Casey.

  “What are you doing here, Walker? You plan on getting yourself a little, too?”

  “Get out of here, Dinks,” Casey said quietly.

  “I don’t think so,” Dinks replied, leering at Belle. “I brought my friends Whitey and Curly. You might have seen Whitey at lunch today. He wanted to get a good look at you. Whitey has an incredible memory. He swears he saw you at Naomi’s Pleasure Parlor five or six years back. It’s the limp that gave you away. Tell them, Whitey.”

  Whitey, nearly as disheveled and drunk as Dinks, nodded his head affirmatively. “Yep, it’s just like Dinks said. Saw this here little lady at Naomi’s in San Francisco. Me and my friends figured if Belle pleasured men in a whorehouse she wouldn’t mind doing it right here in the diner. Got plenty of money.” He pulled out his poke and waved it in front of Belle’s nose.

  Belle blanched and moved instinctively closer to Casey. “I’m going to tell you one more time, get the hell out of here.” This time Casey’s voice held a hard edge that promised swift retribution if they continued to plague Belle. His hand moved reflexively over his Colt.

  “Aw shit, Walker, don’t go greedy on us. We’re willing to share. Whitey and Curly ain’t particular. They’ll let you go first.”

  Casey’s gun came out so fast Belle didn’t see his hand move. When Dinks reached for his own weapon, Casey discharged a shot that came alarmingly close to his head. “I won’t miss next time, Dinks. Take your friends and get out of here. You’ve obviously mistaken Mrs. Henderson for someone else. She’s not now, nor will she ever be, interested in any proposal you have to offer.”

  Dinks wasn’t satisfied. “Is that right, Belle? Ain’t you interested in making yourself a little money on the side?”

  Belle fixed Dinks with a malevolent glare and shook her head. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t even breathe. If she hadn’t braced herself against the kitchen table, she wouldn’t have been able to stand. She thought she’d be safe here from her past, but should have known that one day someone who remembered her from Naomi’s would show up. Not that she was ashamed of those years. On the contrary, she had done nothing wrong. But she had Tommy to worry about now, and no Tom to protect them from the kind of malicious gossip that could ruin a young boy’s life.

  Casey cocked his gun. “You heard the lady. She isn’t interested in your vile suggestions. In the future, if any of you make an improper gesture toward her, you’ll have me to contend with. And I’m good, boys, damn good.”

  Evidently the men believed him for they backed out of the kitchen, stumbling over their own feet. Belle collapsed into the nearest chair, gagging. She was so pale Casey thought she was going to faint. Scooping her into his arms, he paused for only a moment before heading for the nearest bed. The one in his room off the kitchen. He laid her down gently and poured her a cup of water from the pitcher sitting on his nightstand. He held her head while she sipped. When she’d had her fill, he set the cup down and perched on the side of the bed.

  “What was that all about?”

  Belle shook her head, refusing to look at him. He wouldn’t let her off that easily. It appeared as if this was the opening he’d been waiting for. Perhaps now was the time to convince Belle to give her son up to McAllister without a fight. Grasping her chin between thumb and forefinger, he forced her to look at him.

  “Were Dinks and his friends right? Did you work at Naomi’s Pleasure Parlor? I’ve been there a time or two, she runs a damn good establishment. Her girls are the best.”

  Belle’s eyes blazed with unrelenting fury. “What do you know? You’re just like the others. Eager to condemn a woman without benefit of an explanation.”

  “No, I’m willing to listen. Don’t you think it’s time you told me about yourself? Why do you believe Tommy needs protection?”

  “Does my past make any difference in our business arrangement? Will you refuse to protect my son if you perceive me as something I’m not?”

  “I’m not a man to
jump to conclusions. Why don’t you tell me and let me decide for myself?”

  She tried to rise but his hands pinned her shoulders to the bed.

  “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know I can trust anyone?” Her words spewed forth in a long, drawn-out sob.

  “I think I’ve proven myself. That’s twice I’ve been able to prevent an ugly incident for you. How many close calls have you had with different men before I came to town? As long as I’m around, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you or Tommy.”

  That much at least was true. McAllister didn’t want to hurt Tommy, he wanted to give him all the advantages his mother couldn’t. If Casey believed for one minute that McAllister would harm Tommy, he would never have accepted the assignment, money or no. McAllister merely wanted to protect the child, to prevent him from learning that his mother was a whore, or had once been one.

  Casey no longer believed Belle plied her trade in the mining town. Her son was too important to her to risk his finding out about her former profession. Something about Belle moved Casey deeply and he tried to push it to the back of his mind. Sentiments had no place in his life, not now, not when his brother’s life was at stake. He had accepted McAllister’s money, and had no choice but to bring the case to a favorable conclusion.

  Belle truly wanted to believe Casey. She was so tired of bearing the burden herself. So weary of looking over her shoulder for McAllister’s men. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over a year. Not since she learned T.J. McAllister wanted to take her son away from her, and that the law would uphold his claim.

  Casey watched the play of emotion on Belle’s features and could only guess at the kind of private demons she was fighting. “Belle, I’m waiting,” Casey repeated. “Is there any truth in what Dinks said?”

  After an inner struggle with her conscience, Belle seemed to come to a decision. She lifted herself up until her eyes were on the same level as Casey’s. “What do you think?”