Mountain Dawn

by Maureen Child

  "I'll teach you to read, Bridget." Jacob offered eagerly.

  Bridget stepped back from his embrace and looked up at him. "No, Jacob."

  "But why not?” His brows came together as the hopeful light in his eyes faded.

  "You must understand, Jacob." She laid her hand atop his. "Cotton is my friend. We've struck a bargain, he and I. And it's workin' well."

  "A bargain?”

  "Aye. He's teachin' me to read and write, and I'm doin' his mendin’.” She met his troubled gaze steadily. "And I'll not be hurtin' him by tellin' him he's no longer needed."

  She held her breath and waited for him to say something. If he’d truly meant all he'd been saying to her these last few minutes, then he would respect her wishes.

  Finally, after a long moment, Jacob spoke. "All right, Bridget. If that's what you want."

  She nodded, relieved.

  "Cotton is my friend, too," he continued, "and you're right. It would hurt his pride to be tossed aside." He smiled slightly and stepped back to pick up his coat. "I am going to court you, though, Bridget O'Dell. I'm going to prove to you how much I want you. Need you." He moved up beside her again and cupped her cheek gently. "I hope someday soon you'll trust me." He dropped his hands to his side, then he turned and walked to the front door. He stopped before going outside. "I'll keep Jessie at the jail for a while. Give you some time to yourself."

  She nodded and forced a smile, but as the door shut behind him, Bridget crossed to the closest chair and slumped down onto it. What was she to do now?

  Holy Mother, what a mess everything was. Only the night before, she'd prayed that things between her and Jacob could be right again. Now that she'd had her prayer answered, it only made things worse.

  He trusts you, she scolded herself. For the first time in years he's found a woman to trust, and it's the very woman who's been deceivin' him from the first! Somewhere, she knew there were some devilish little fairies havin' a good laugh over this. She'd been caught good and proper.

  Escape from jail only to take refuge with a marshal, she thought. Then lie to the man to keep your independence, only to lose it anyway because you've fallen in love with the one man you shouldn't.

  Yes, she admitted silently, she loved Jacob Fallon – loved him more than she'd ever believed possible. She stared hard at the closed front door. She should run. That was what she should do. Now. Before this hole she'd dug herself could get any deeper.

  But she wouldn't. At least not yet. Jacob had said he was going to court her. She laced her fingers together tightly. Imagine that! Jacob Fallon courting Bridget Dugan – O’Dell. Was it so much a sin to continue her deception a little longer? To let herself pretend, if only for a while, that love would be enough? Bridget stood up suddenly and walked to the kitchen shelves. Absently she pulled down the ingredients to make a cake. Her family would be home soon.

  #

  Bridget stretched her arms high over her head. The deep blue of the sky was dotted with soft swirls of white clouds twisted into wild, fanciful shapes by the ever-present wind.

  She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked down at the creek where Jacob and Jessica sat side by side. Jacob with his fishing pole and Jessica with hers, a short stick that Jacob had attached a string and hook to. Drawing her knees up to her chest, Bridget smoothed the folds of her new dress and made sure the hem was completely covering her legs. She'd never forget Jacob's face when he'd first seen her in the dress she'd spent the last week making.

  The soft, meadow-green material with the tiny, pale yellow dots flattered her, she knew. Short, bunched sleeves, a round scooped neckline (not too deep, of course), and a wide ruffle at the hemline suited her beautifully. The material, at twenty cents a yard, had come dear, and she'd worked on the gown every spare hour, but it was well worth the trouble.

  Jacob had stared at her through wide, admiring eyes that had kindled a fire in her that was still smoldering several hours later. She sighed and watched him as he helped his daughter bait her hook one more time. As good as his word, Jacob had spent the last two weeks bringing her flowers, taking her and Jessica to supper at the restaurant, and, in general, being as attentive as he'd once been standoffish.

  He'd also made no attempt to gain entry to her bedroom again. It seemed he really meant what he'd said about courting her the "proper" way. Except for a few scattered kisses that only left her hungry for more, he'd been a perfect gentleman.

  She turned her face into the wind, hoping to banish thoughts of Jacob's kisses from her mind, but she knew it was impossible. With his determination, Jacob had proved to her that he did indeed want her with him. Always. And, Bridget admitted ruefully, he'd made it even harder to think about leaving.

  Then the small, niggling idea that had been sneaking around in her mind for a week crept into the forefront. Was it possible that she wouldn't have to leave? She furrowed her brows thoughtfully. Wasn't Montana Territory far enough away from St. Louis to ensure her safety? But if she did stay… she'd still have to tell Jacob the truth. She couldn't spend her life in fear that he would find out on his own.

  And if she told him… would he still want her?

  "Why such a solemn face on such a beautiful day?"

  She jumped, startled to find Jacob standing over her. Immediately Bridget smiled and forced her thoughts into submission. "You frightened me, man."

  "Sorry." He dropped down beside her on the quilt. "Care to tell me what's wrong?"

  "Nothin', Jacob," she assured him brightly, "nothin' atall."

  He nodded, accepting her answer, and flicked a glance at Jessie, now teaching the rag doll Bridget had made for her how to fish. He shook his head and smiled as his daughter propped her doll up in the small wooden wagon he'd made for her the week before. Then, looking back at Bridget, Jacob said, "You look lovely in your new dress."

  'Thank you." He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “Bridget, I want to ask you something…"

  She caught her breath. She wasn't ready. Not yet. Somehow she was sure what it was he wanted to ask. Reluctantly she pulled her hand away.

  "Don't, Jacob. Please."

  He leaned toward her, his steady gaze capturing hers. "Haven't I proved to you how I feel, Bridget?"

  "Yes. Yes, you have." She looked down and studied the pattern of her skirt.

  He lifted her chin until their eyes met once more. "I'm glad." He smiled gently and took a deep breath. "Then I'll wait, Bridget. Until the time is right."

  “Thank you, Jacob."

  He moved his hand to cup the back of her head, pulling her close. Tenderly Jacob's lips came down on hers. She felt his breath warm on her cheek and sensed the tight rein he held on his passions.

  When he pulled away at last, he said softly, "But soon, Bridget. Soon I will ask."

  She nodded, helpless under his unswerving gaze.

  "Papa!"

  They both looked down to the streambed.

  "Papa, help me again!" Jessie's blond hair hung in two neat braids. She wore her pale pink frock, and Bridget sighed to see the splotches of mud decorating its hem and the girl's white stockings.

  Jacob rose nimbly to his feet and held his hand out to Bridget. A smile curved his lips when he asked, "Come play in the mud with us?"

  Bridget's heart turned over as she stared at him. No matter what happened in the future, she would always remember him like this. His hair ruffled by wind, his gentle smile, his pale blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the black jeans that hugged his long legs and even his mudscuffed boots. She would hold this image of him in her heart forever.

  She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet easily. Then, their fingers tightly laced together, they walked down the incline to where the little girl waited.

  #

  Jacob smiled and held his daughter a little closer. In the last few weeks he'd come to treasure these nights at home. Yet at the same time it amazed him that the small cabin in
the middle of a raw gold mining settlement had truly become home.

  He gave the cozy room a long, thoughtful look. So many little things added up to make a place warm, inviting. The bright blue calico curtains over the windows, the fresh coat of whitewash over the kitchen shelves, wildflowers he'd brought home and placed into an old crock. Bridget had even started a braided rug for the floor, using strips of his old shirts and clothes Jessie had outgrown.

  He looked across the table at the auburn-haired beauty across from him. Her head bent, Bridget was hard at work lowering the hem of one of Jessie's dresses. It seemed as though the little girl was growing as fast as Treasure Gap, and she was changing more than just her height. Jessica had blossomed under Bridget's unconditional love. The little girl's eyes sparkled, she never walked when she could run, and the memories of her silence had all but disappeared. In fact, Jessie chattered more than she ever had. But, perhaps more important, she now felt free to offer affection, knowing that it would be welcomed and returned.

  And all of this, Jacob knew, he owed to Bridget O'Dell.

  “Papa…" Jessica tugged at his shirtfront.

  He looked down at her and smiled at the impatient frown on her face.

  "Papa," she said again, "read."

  Jacob glanced guiltily at the book in his hand. He'd drifted off in his thoughts and forgotten all about the story he'd been reading aloud. "Your papa's tired, Jessie. I'll finish it tomorrow night, all right?"

  Her lips twisted mutinously, and she seemed about to argue when Bridget spoke up. “That'll do, Jessie." She smiled softly. "It's time for you to be thinkin' about bedtime."

  "Yes'm." Jessie climbed down from her father's lap and went to the loft ladder.

  “When you're all set," Bridget offered, “you can come back down for a bit and have a cookie."

  Jessie grinned and climbed the ladder in a flash of movement.

  Jacob chuckled. “That was quick."

  "Oh, aye, she can be as quick as a bunny when she wants."

  He set the heavy book down on the table and watched the dancing firelit shadows play on the walls.

  Jacob shifted his gaze to Bridget. Her eyes were still on her work, and he watched, hypnotized, as the small silver needle darted in and out of the fabric. Bridget's dainty yet work-hardened hands moved with a natural grace, and Jacob suddenly found breathing difficult as he remembered the touch of those hands on his flesh.

  He'd promised to court her properly, and he'd managed, so far, to keep that promise. But it was growing more difficult every day to keep from touching her. Holding her. He breathed deeply and vowed silently to be strong. It was what she deserved, after all. He didn't want to give her any reason to think again that all he was interested in was a simple seduction.

  He wanted much more than that.

  Leaning back in his chair, Jacob told himself that he wanted all of her. Her mind, her body, her heart… all of her. He would not run the risk of losing her again. For in truth, he couldn't even imagine his life without her. Just thinking about their chance meeting on board the River Belle brought to mind the thought that they might never have met but for a stroke of providence. He smiled to himself. And, of course, there was Bridget's tendency to interfere.

  "What are you grinnin' at?"

  He looked up to find her direct gaze on him.

  "I was thinking about the night we met. On board ship?"

  Bridget bit her lip, fighting a smile. "Aye, I remember. I also remember a stiff and starchy man tellin' me to mind me own business."

  “Thankfully for him," Jacob told her softly, “you paid no attention."

  She cleared her throat uneasily, snipped the thread she'd been working with, and stuck the needle into a small pincushion on the table. As she folded Jessie’s mended dress, Bridget searched her mind for something to say. Jacob's steady stare was beginning to wear on her.

  "Oh," she said quickly as the thought rushed in, "I haven't asked yet. Have you found the beast that beat up poor Tina?"

  He scowled and slapped the table top. "No. Not yet Cotton's asked around town, and it seems that Bud Francis has gone back to his claim."

  “Well, can't you go and get him?"

  "Not when we don't know where it is." Jacob pushed back from the table and stood up. "Hell, no one knows where it is. He must think he's struck the mother lode, because he hasn't told a soul anything about his claim."

  “He will be back, though, you think?"

  Jacob snorted. "Oh, yeah, he'll be back. Treasure Gap's the closest spot around where he can find just what he wants." He looked at Bridget steadily for a moment. "Besides, he's probably thinking just what Cherry was. That no one will much care about a whore getting the hell beat out of her."

  She turned a confident smile on him. “Well, good, then. He'll be surprised, won't he?"

  "I'm sure of it.” Dropping down beside her chair, his eyes level with hers, Jacob asked quietly, "Why were you so sure of me, Bridget? I heard everything you told Cherry." She looked down, and he lifted her chin with his fingertips. "After the way I treated you, you still believed in me. Why?"

  "I'll not say I wasn't fightin' mad, the way you were actin'" – her lips curved slightly – “but, Jacob, you're just not the kind of man to walk away from somethin' like that."

  "But you sounded so positive. It was your belief in me that earned me Cherry's trust." He smoothed his fingers over her cheek. "Something I'll wager she doesn't give lightly."

  “Well, now, Cherry's led a hard life. You can see that in her eyes." She held her breath and moved her head against his hand. "Just like I can see in yours the gentle, soul you're always tryin' to hide."

  Someone giggled, and they both turned to see Jessie perched on the ladder, watching them with delight. Her bare feet poked from beneath the hem of her long white cotton nightdress, and her soft, golden hair hung loose about her face.

  Embarrassed, Bridget stood up quickly and said, "All right, you little imp. Go and get your cookie." As the child clambered down the last few rungs and ran for the small kitchen shelf, Bridget called out, "Mind you, just one!"

  Jacob stepped up beside her and threw a wry glance over his shoulder at his daughter. Turning back to Bridget, he said softly, “Well, that should teach me to be more careful about where I do my courting."

  Bridget was lost for a moment in the depths of his eyes. Jessie and everything else in the world faded away as she stared up at him, captured by the tenderness she saw there.

  The front door burst open then and slammed into the wall with a crash. Jacob immediately pulled Bridget behind him as he faced the darkened doorway. It was Cotton, but a Cotton neither of them had seen before.

  His face flushed, his hat missing, his now neatly mended clothes torn and dirty, he desperately tried to catch his breath.

  "What is it?" Jacob left Bridget's side and moved swiftly to his deputy. "Good God, man, what’s happened?"

  Cotton looked from Jacob to Bridget and back again before saying, "The town. It's on fire."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fire!

  Bridget spun around and snatched Jessie off her feet. Holy Mother of God. A fire. And in this small wooden town, a fire could spread as fast as a rumor.

  Jacob grabbed his coat, even as he asked, “Where, Cotton? What's burning?"

  Cotton's chest was still heaving from his run. “The other end of town. The Beer Barrel. Burnin' fast, Boss." The deputy put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, trying to slow his breathing. "We been fightin' it for a bit already. Thought we had it beat… then she started up again."

  The Beer Barrel Saloon. Quickly Bridget's scattered thoughts ran together. Of course! It stood beside the MacElroys' store, right across the road from Cherry's place. Without even stopping to think about what she was doing, Bridget went to the wall peg and took down her new coat and slipped it on. Quickly she wrapped her shawl around Jessie.

  "Where do you think you're going?" Jacob asked as he grabbed her arm and turned
her toward him.

  “They'll need everyone's help, Jacob."

  "No. It's too dangerous."

  "Jacob." She stared hard at him. "If we can't stop the fire, nothin' will keep it from burnin' the whole town and our home with it. Nothin's more dangerous than that."

  He gripped her shoulders tightly, his gaze boring into hers. Finally he nodded briefly and set her free. "What about Jessie?"

  "I'll keep her right beside me every minute, Jacob. I swear she'll be safe."

  He nodded again, knowing they couldn't leave Jessie alone in the cabin with the threat of a raging fire hanging over them. Quickly he lifted his daughter and kissed her cheek. "Stay with Bridget. Do exactly what she tells you."

  "Yes, Papa," she said as he set her down. The little girl's lip trembled. She'd never seen the adults in her life behaving so strangely.

  Jacob shoved his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, then pulled Bridget into a brief, fierce hug and whispered, "Take care," in her ear.

  "Boss?" Cotton said anxiously. "We best go now."

  "Right." One last look at his family and Jacob turned, then ran down the street toward the faint orange glow hovering over the town.

  Cotton was right on his heels. Bridget stood uncertainly in the doorway for a moment, watching until the two men disappeared from sight. "Oh, Mum," she murmured softly, “watch over us all this night."

  The noise was deafening. As she drew nearer to the fire, Bridget clutched Jessie tightly against her. Miners screaming and shoving their way through a confused, frightened crowd pushed past her. Several times she nearly lost her footing but managed to keep herself steady, knowing that if she fell, she and the child she held would be trampled under hundreds of feet.

  When she rounded the corner and came face to face with the roaring blaze lighting up the night, Bridget stopped short. Heedless of the men shoving to get by her, she stood in awed silence at the flames shooting up into the darkness.

  The faces of the people around her held an eerie, orange glow, and she saw the fire reflected in their wide, frightened eyes. Red-orange talons of flame shot out the broken first-floor windows of the Beer Barrel Saloon. The second-story windows were still intact, yet they were now coated with black soot and ash.