by Cassie Hayes
For a moment, he couldn’t understand why she was tapping him on the shoulder. It didn’t make sense because both of her hands had moved down his broad chest. It finally dawned on him that she couldn’t possibly be the culprit.
Growling and baring his teeth in frustration, he turned his steely gaze on a laughing Aidan. He’d never wanted to sock a man so badly as at this moment.
When Dell realized that she’d been openly kissing a man in front of someone else — and right in front of a big window — she threw her hands up to her blushing face, mortified. Jack was a little hurt that she was so embarrassed to be seen kissing him, but considering her experience level, he understood.
Before he knew what was happening, she’d turned and run out the door, no doubt toward Sam’s. He wasn’t about to let her run around San Francisco at night alone, and ran after her — but not before cursing Aidan for interrupting them.
Chapter 12
Silence woke Jack with a start. Dragging his head up off his desk, he wiped a dribble of drool from his cheek and shaded his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window. He must have fallen asleep some time during the night. His bleary, sleep-deprived eyes looked around to figure out what woke him and realized the press was still.
He leapt from his chair, heart pounding, wondering if something else had broken.
“Aidan! What happened?!”
Aidan poked his head through a cascade of papers left to dry over rope tied from the back of the shop to the front. The smile he gave Jack was weary but satisfied.
“We’re done, Jack. Da firs’ printin’ of Da Nuptial News is complete. An’ dis young lad needs a wee bit o’ shuteye before he falls down.”
Nodding, Jack slapped his friend on the back in congratulations.
“You were a crackerjack. Couldn’t have done it without ya.”
The men stared at the long lines of papers fluttering above their heads with their arms draped around the other shoulder. Jack leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “So how’d ya get that rounce thingamajig, anyway?”
“Better y’don’t know,” Aidan replied with a wink. “I got da luck o’ da Irish. You…well, ya lucky ya know an Irishman!”
Jack ushered him out and told him to get some sleep because there was still a mighty load of work left to do. They needed to collate, fold, bundle and deliver all the papers to Millie’s post office, where they’d be taken aboard a Pacific Mail Steamship to Boston. From there, Dell’s pa would handle the distribution.
Standing in the middle of the shop, Jack surveyed his new kingdom. Just a month before, he was breaking his back at a placer mine. Not two weeks before, he was drinking away his hard-earned gold in a saloon full of fair-weather friends. Now he was a respected businessman — or he would be as soon as word got out.
His entire adult life had been spent running. Running from one adventure to the next. When things got too comfortable, it was time to move on because that’s when you got stuck. And he was terrified of being stuck. That’s why he’d fought so hard against working with Dell but it turned out to be the most exciting thing he’d done in years.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined owning a respectable business. Wrangling horses or digging dirt seemed better suited to his vagabond ways, but this episode in his life had been more fulfilling than all of his past adventures combined.
Old man Strauss had been right — adventures were meant to be shared. Otherwise, it was almost like they never happened.
He was happy to have shared this adventure with Dell. He realized now that something inside him was attracted to her — not just her pretty face and figure, but her stability. But that very quality scared the devil out of him so he rebelled against her, teasing her endlessly so she’d hate him and he wouldn’t be forced to confront his desire to become something more than a no-account scalawag.
And after their kiss last night, Jack wondered if Dell might not want something more for herself, too.
He’d easily caught up to her the night before, even though she was running at a good clip. Yelling after her didn’t slow her down so he stepped up his pace until he was running along beside her. Slowing to match her gait, he jogged along for awhile without saying a word, just keeping her company and out of harm’s way.
As strong as she was, her breathing became labored, and she finally slowed to a walk. Jack stayed beside her the whole time, keeping his big bazoo shut. He’d already stepped in it by kissing her like that; he didn’t want to make things worse by saying the wrong thing.
When a drunken brawl burst out of a saloon and into the street, he pulled her away from the scuffle into the shadows but promptly let go…despite the fact he didn’t want to.
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly. He thought that was a good sign.
As they neared Sam’s, he worried that she might walk in without talking to him about what had happened. But shortly before the walkway, she came to an abrupt stop, her hand edging over to gently lay on his arm. He wasn’t the only one to feel the tingle when they touched — a shudder shook her frame, too — but she didn’t pull away. Another good sign.
His hand found hers, holding it in place in case she got any ideas. He couldn’t help rubbing his thumb across the bump of bone on her delicate wrist. It begged to be caressed.
Looking down at her hand, not meeting his gaze, she said, “Jack, I’m so embarrassed to have behaved in such a wanton way in front of Aidan.”
His heart sank. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from her but he was pretty sure he’d be happy to have some more kissing.
Taking a deep breath, she summoned the courage to look him full in the face.
“But I’m not sorry to have kissed you. Thank you.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek, wished him good night, then turned and walked up the path and into the house, leaving him speechless on the street. Darned if that woman wasn’t as unpredictable as a colt!
A smile spread across his face as he turned to head back to the shop. He whistled the whole way there and wasn’t even tempted to stop in at The Eagle. He wanted to make sure the paper got printed.
And now it was. The thing was done and they were about to see if Dell’s idea was as good as they thought it was.
The sound of the door opening caught his attention. It had to be Dell, coming in to see how everything went. But his gut clenched in fury when he was greeted by Fanny’s snarling face.
“What the hell are you doin’ here, Fanny? I told you never to come back here again!”
He moved to force her back out the door but froze when she revealed the pistol she was pointing at him from under her shawl.
“Uh uh uh, Jack,” she sneered. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Raising his hands above his head, he backed away, never taking his eyes off the pistol. “Whaddya want, Fanny?”
“Jack, the only thing I ever wanted was a good man to love and take care of me. I was downright heartbroke when I discovered it t’weren’t gonna be you.”
“Well, killin’ me ain’t gonna get you what you want. Besides, there’s a whole passel of men better’n me out there who’d just love to have a pretty gal like you.”
She’d always been highly susceptible to flattery, but it wasn’t working today.
“You don’t think I know that, Jack? Trouble is, they’re more trouble than they’re worth, most of the time. Always expectin’ me to change my ways just so’s they can marry me. Imagine that!”
“So I’ll ask again. Whaddya want?”
“What I always want, Jack. My fair share. How I see it is, you was mine and you was gonna spend a whole lot more money on me before we was done. But then ugly ol’ Miss Priss showed up and you scampered off before I got my share. That’s all I want.”
Her syrupy sweet voice sent shivers down his spine. She wanted money. Fine! He had the bag of gold in the safe from the ads he sold.
“Stay right there and I’ll get you some gold
, Fanny. What do ya suppose your fair share might amount to?”
“Oh, I’d say five hundred would do it.”
“Five…?!”
He was about to laugh at her gall but the dark circle of death pointing at him kept him mute.
“Sounds right fair to me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Thought you’d see it my way.”
The gold he’d collected from the ads amounted to about five hundred, depending on the scale. It was heavy enough that she wouldn’t question it, and if it would rid him of her forever, it was a bargain. He had more where it came from.
“Here,” he said, tossing it at her.
She fumbled to catch it, dropping the gun in the process. Jack shot forward and kicked it out of her reach before she so much as blinked. It clattered across the room until coming to rest under his desk.
“Dammit,” she hissed. Clutching the gold to her bosom, she glared up at him defiantly. “You gonna smack me around now, I s’pose?”
He’d never so much as raised his voice to Fanny, much less a hand, so it was strange that she’d assume he would hit her. Although having a gun pointed at your gut can make a man do things he wouldn’t normally do.
“Naw, but I am gonna open this door nice and sweet-like, and you’re gonna saunter on outta here and outta my life for good, y’hear?”
They stepped outside, Jack standing in the doorway, barring it from her. She shook her head in disbelief as she hefted the small brown leather bag.
“I can’t believe you’re giving me this just to get me to leave you alone,” she breathed, amazed at her good fortune.
“I’m used to it,” Jack said, tilting her head up with one finger to meet his gaze. “You know I never once paid you to be with me, don’tchya?”
A little crease dug into her brow as she puzzled over this odd piece of information. Jack felt obliged to explain.
“I paid you to leave.”
Her jaw dropped and pain filled her eyes, but she quickly recovered, the pain replaced with fury. Her icy smirk turned his blood cold. Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against his cheek before he could recoil in disgust.
“You should be nicer to a lady,” she whispered in his ear. With a swish of her fancy lavender skirts, she turned and pranced across the street.
Loathing filled Jack’s heart as he watched her go. He’d met a lot of low-down, no-good vipers in his travels but Fanny took the cake. This was just further proof that the way he’d been gallivanting around was just a recipe for trouble.
But what was done was done. Now it was time to get back to work bundling up all those papers to get ready for shipment. Rubbing his cheek where Fanny had kissed him, trying to scrub off any evil she left behind, Jack turned to go inside, but something caught his eye.
At first, his brain didn’t want to register what his eyes were seeing. By the time it did, it was too late. Dell in her pretty, if worn, sky blue dress, dolled up fancier than he could ever remember, was standing in the shadows of the next storefront, just standing there staring at him.
Then she was gone.
~*~*~
“Dell, come back! Dell!”
Delilah heard him crying out for her but she didn’t stop running. The night before, he’d easily caught up with her but, unlike then, this morning she didn’t want to be caught. She’d explored San Francisco enough over the last several months to know the ins and outs and hidden nooks that could help a person disappear, if only for a few moments.
Ducking down one tight alley, around a building and doubling back, she wedged herself into a deeply recessed doorway just as she heard Jack’s thundering steps run by. Her heart hammered in her chest and the inside of her nose prickled with the tears she was determined not to shed. Clenching her fingers into fists to get them to stop shaking, she replayed the scene she’d just witnessed in her head.
She’d awoken earlier than usual and took great care in dressing and performing her toilet that morning. Even though it was stained and fraying around the hem, Delilah felt her light blue dress — the one she’d worn to impress her fiancé months before — still was the prettier of her two dresses. Besides working from dawn till dusk trying to make something from her crazy idea meant she had no money to buy frilly things for herself.
Jack had suggested she use some of her customers’ gold to buy some new dresses, but she refused. Every penny she’d collected would go into the paper. If — and only if — it was a success, would she then start drawing a salary and perhaps replace her old dresses. Besides, they were perfectly functional, if not terribly stylish, which never troubled her much. Until she saw women like Fanny capering about in their French finery.
The sun was just rising over the hills when she tiptoed out of the house. She’d been keenly aware that Jack never came home the night before and she was eager to find out how the boys had progressed throughout the night.
And of course to see Jack. Her lips still burned from his kiss and her skin ached for his touch. There was no doubt about it, she’d lost her heart to him, and she was looking forward to seeing how their budding romance would progress.
So when she rounded the corner and spotted Jack escorting Fanny out of the shop, she stopped dead in her tracks. Fanny was smiling, bouncing the brown leather cinch sack Jack had brought back from selling ads in her hands, and by the look of it, it was full of gold. Then Jack had tenderly tipped her head back — just like he’d done to Delilah the night before — and whispered some sweet nothing to her. Passion filled Fanny’s features when she leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Delilah wanted to dart forward and scratch the woman’s eyes out but she found her shoes were nailed to the ground. She could barely breathe, much less move, as she helplessly watched Jack monitor Fanny’s progress across the street, absentmindedly rubbing his cheek where she’d kissed him.
What had he just paid her for? There could only be one answer, and the fact that he’d done such an unspeakable thing at the shop and paid for it with money collected for ads in her paper almost made her lose her wind. In a flash of insight, she understood everything. He hadn’t walked her home last night to be a gentleman; he’d walked her home to make sure she was out of the way!
She’d stupidly allowed herself to believe he’d changed and had actually developed feelings for him. But he’d seemed so earnest, so excited about getting the paper printed, and despite his ad-selling side trip, she was fairly certain he’d foregone the saloon for much longer than he ever had since his arrival in San Francisco. Clearly, he’d spent far too much time with her, Miss Priss, and wanted to cut loose like he always had.
She should have known better than to trust a man like Jack Dalton. He was a scoundrel, through and through. He’d never change and she was stupid for thinking he might. The fact that she’d opened her heart to him made her stomach lurch.
When he turned and spotted her, he just stood and stared defiantly, as if daring her to confront him. Well, she wasn’t about to sink to that level and instead ran off and lost herself in the town’s maze of alleys and back streets.
Delilah skirted the area Jack would naturally search and ran the back streets to the loading area of the post office. It was an hour before the doors would open but men had already started lining up. Careful not to let any spot her, she snuck in through the back door and hid out behind a stack of packages in the large sorting room until she was certain Millie was alone in the front. Millie gave a cry when she looked around to see Delilah edging out of the back.
“Oh, my lord!” she cried, fanning herself melodramatically. “You gave me a start, child! What were you doin’ back there?”
“Millie…I…I…”
The words wouldn’t come, but the tears did. She’d been holding back, trying to stay strong, but could no longer control herself. Great heaving sobs wracked her frame as Millie rushed out from behind the counter and gathered her in her motherly arms.
“Hush, child, what’s the trouble? Tell ol’ M
illie what’s ailin’ ya.”
“Jack…he…he…”
Delilah couldn’t take in enough air to complete a full sentence so Millie sat down with her on a couple crates filled with goodness only knew what and rocked her gently in her arms.
“You know, he was just in here looking for ya,” she said.
Delilah jerked her head off the older woman’s shoulder and looked around, afraid he was hiding behind a stack of dry goods.
“Calm down, Dell, he’s gone,” Millie soothed, stroking her hair. “But he did seem mighty upset. Said if I seen you, I should tell ya…what was it now? Oh yes, that it wasn’t what it looked like and to please come back to the shop. I think that was it. Yes, I’m sure of it. I would have written it down for ya, but then you popped out of the back like a little mouse and nearly scared the daylights out of me.”
Dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief Millie offered, Delilah sniffed an apology for startling her, then twisted the monogrammed square in her fingers. The need to tell someone what had happened was overpowering, just to ease the crushing weight of it, and she trusted no one more than Millie…except maybe Sam.
For the next several minutes, she poured out her heart, sparing no detail, not even their scandalous kiss. Millie sat silently, soaking in the information until Delilah got to the point of sneaking in the back door. It was such a relief to say the words out loud, to tell another human that she ached inside from the betrayal and her own stupidity.
“Well,” Millie finally tsked. “You probably ain’t gonna want to hear this, darlin’, but the one thing I’ve learned from this life of mine is that there’s two sides to every tale. You know what ol’ Ben Franklin said, believe none o’ what you hear and only half o’ what you see.”
Delilah couldn’t believe her ears. She’d just told Millie a sordid tale and she didn’t believe her.
