Wildstar

by Nicole Jordan

  Jess smiled wryly. "You wouldn't know how to quit working hard."

  "Well, you're jest as bad as me. Mebbe you ought to think about easin' off yerself, now that Riley's made his strike. You don't need to keep worry in' about money now. You could shuck the boardinghouse, if'n you wanted to."

  "Good heavens, what would I do if I didn't have the boardinghouse to keep me busy?"

  Clem eyed her thoughtfully as he tugged on his grizzled beard. "Get yourself hitched, o' course. You ain't getting any younger, you know."

  Jess suddenly found a good deal to interest her in her fingers.

  "I tell you, Jessie. You don't want to end up like me, with nobody to care for you. With no family or nothirs'."

  She looked up in distress. "You have somebody to care for you. Riley and I love you. We're your family."

  "That ain't what I meant and you know it." Clem held her gaze. "You let that purty fella get away, and you're gonna be sorry. You oughta think about that, Jessie."

  With that, Clem climbed to his feet and shuffled out the back door, leaving Jess to brood over what he'd said.

  In fact, she did a lot of brooding during the following days, as autumn set in for good and the first snowfall of the season came and went. She found it impossible to do anything else. Devlin stayed on her mind, no matter how desperately she tried to forget him.

  And more and more she came to realize she had no sup­port among her family and friends in her campaign to shun him. It even began to seem as if there was a conspiracy against her. Even Ashton Burke managed to mention Dev­lin.

  It was done casually one Sunday afternoon in late Octo­ber, when Burke was at the Sommers's house. Jess had relented enough to invite him to Sunday dinner with her and Riley.

  Having the elegant silver baron dining at her kitchen ta­ble seemed incongruous, but he didn't appear to mind that the flatware wasn't made of silver and the yellow-checked tablecloth wasn't lace. In fact, Burke seemed totally con­tent merely to be sharing the time with her. He sat there, relaxed and at ease, sipping his glass of homemade elder­berry wine and making pleasant conversation that included Riley as much as Jess, and was obviously designed to dis­arm.

  Jess, too, was growing more at ease with Burke, so much so that she allowed her attention to wander for a minute while her two fathers discussed the state of Colo­rado politics. It came as a shock to realize the subject had somehow turned to Devlin.

  ". . . already hired a team of lawyers. He asked for my advice, much to my surprise." Burke made a wry face. "I suggested the best in the state, although I imagine I will come to regret it. Mr. Devlin is all too likely to use them against me someday."

  "What does Devlin need a team of lawyers for?" Jess found herself asking in spite of herself.

  "A simple precaution, my dear. With all the litigation these days, every business venture is a veritable mine field. And since he has relocated his headquarters here, he will need attorneys who know our state law."

  "Devlin has moved his headquarters here!"

  "Several weeks ago. You didn't know?"

  "No," Jess said faintly.

  "Well, I doubt he will have much difficulty settling in. He can buy and sell stocks here almost as easily as in Chi­cago, now that telegraphs and telephones have made com­munication so easy. I have invited Mr. Devlin to use my telephone, in fact, until his is operational."

  Jess looked at Riley, only to find him watching her. Suddenly restless, she jumped up to clear away the dishes and bring the cherry pie to the table.

  "Did I say something wrong?" Burke asked into the si­lence.

  "Jess hasn't done much talking to Devlin lately," Riley responded evenly.

  Burke tactfully refrained from commenting. "Did you receive the invitation I sent you for next week, Jessica?" he said, changing the subject.

  "Yes, thank you." Carefully saying nothing more, she began to cut pie wedges. Three days ago a gold-embossed card had been hand-delivered by one of Ashton Burke's fancy footmen, inviting her and Riley to the evening party Burke was giving Monday after next.

  The idea of attending one of Burke's society functions didn't much appeal to Jess, although she was reluctant to hurt his feelings by telling him so. He had been trying so hard to make up for his past failures that she felt almost obliged to be nice to him.

  In fact, to her surprise she'd begun to see Burke in a different light. Just as Devlin had suggested, Ashton Burke wasn't all bad. The fact that he'd loved her mother and re­gretted not marrying her made his subsequent actions, though not forgivable, at least more understandable.

  "There will be dancing and supper," Burke said encour­agingly. "And perhaps a few hands of cards. I should be honored if you would attend. And Riley, as well, naturally."

  "Well, we'll see," Riley replied.

  Jess was grateful to her father for sparing her the neces­sity of answering, for she had just thought of another rea­son she didn't want to attend Burke's party. As cozy as he and Devlin had apparently become, Devlin might very well be there. And she just didn't know if she had the strength to face him. Her wounds were too raw.

  In fact, she didn't know if they would ever heal. For the past month, she'd prayed that Devlin would just leave town and get out of her life so she could begin to recover. But now it looked as if he truly was here to stay.

  Could she bear it, knowing he was so close and yet so far away?

  That night, after Burke had long gone, after she and Riley had shared a cold supper and the dishes had been put away, Jess found herself pondering that question for the hundredth time. Too restless to sleep, she draped a shawl over her shoulders and went outside to sit on the back step.

  The fall air was crisp and frosty, the ebony sky diamond-studded with thousands of stars which looked close enough to touch. Jess couldn't enjoy the beautiful night, though. She was hurting too much.

  Resting her forehead on her updrawn knees, she silently cursed Garrett Devlin. "Wherever you are," she muttered, "I hope you're half as miserable as I am."

  Ten minutes later the kitchen door creaked open behind her, accompanied by a spill of lanternlight. It was followed by Riley's gentle voice stealing out to meet her.

  "You okay, Jess?"

  "No," she mumbled truthfully.

  There was a long, concerned silence.

  "You want me to fetch the doc?"

  Jess gave a choked laugh. "I don't think Doc Wheeler could fix what's wrong with me."

  Without replying, Riley came out to join her, shutting the door behind him and enfolding them again in darkness. Settling himself beside her on the top step, he found her hand and entwined her fingers with his rough, calloused ones. Jess felt immensely comforted. Riley might not be her blood father, but she'd never felt closer to him.

  It was some time before he finally spoke, but he didn't give her the sympathetic condolences Jess had hoped to hear.

  "Don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?" Riley asked.

  It took a second for her to realize he was taking Dev­lin's side. She took a deep breath, trying to control her in­dignation. "I'm being hard?"

  "Judging a man guilty without even giving him a chance to explain. . . . Seems to me that isn't quite fair, Jess."

  Her chin came up. "And just what did Devlin tell you?"

  "Climb down off your high horse; he didn't say a thing. Flo told me what happened."

  "And you think it wasn't important? That I should just forget I ever saw him kissing that woman?"

  "I didn't say that. Maybe it was important and maybe it wasn't. What I do know is that nobody ever solved their problems by not talking about them. I also know that ever since you brought Devlin home, you've been mighty quick to believe the worst about him. And you've been wrong before."

  "Maybe so," Jess admitted grudgingly, "but I'm not wrong now. I know what I saw."

  Her father gave her a searching look in the darkness. "You absolutely sure you're not being a bit unreasonable?"

  She wasn't
sure about anything anymore, except that she wanted to bury her face in her lap and cry. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, she maintained her defensiveness. "I don't think I'm being the least unreasonable. What would you do if you had found Mama kissing an­other man?"

  Evidently it was the wrong thing to say, for Riley stiff­ened. "I'd marry her," he said quietly.

  The subdued bitterness in his tone made Jess realize she had struck a raw nerve. She bit her lip, not wanting to hurt Riley more, yet needing to know. "Mama wasn't . . . un­faithful to you, was she?"

  He gave a slow, deep sigh. "Not that I ever knew, ex­cept maybe in her heart. She never did get over losing Burke."

  "He told me a little about her," Jess said quietly. "He said he loved her but he didn't realize it till it was too late."

  "She should have married him. She would have been better off with him than me."

  "No, how can you say that?"

  "Jenny Ann never came right out and told me, but I al­ways knew she regretted marrying me. I couldn't give her the nice things Burke could. . . . I couldn't even give her a child."

  "I don't believe that was the way she saw it."

  "She never loved me. Not like she did Burke."

  Jess shook her head. Riley might believe that, but deep down, she knew differently. Since she'd fallen hopelessly in love with Devlin, she'd become a lot more sensitive to things like that. She knew now how her mother had felt loving Ashton Burke. And yet all the precious memories she had of her mother couldn't be wrong. Jenny Ann's feelings for Riley had been deep and abiding. That kind of love had been far stronger than the infatuation she'd once felt for Ashton Burke.

  "The way Mama loved you was a lot better than the way she loved Burke," Jess declared with conviction. "She knew you were the better man."

  "Well, maybe," Riley said after a long moment. "Thing is, Jess, I don't want to see you end up with the same re­grets as your ma did. Remember that wild star she used to talk about? A star's darn hard to get a hold of, just like love. And if you do catch it, you better not let go."

  Jess fell silent. She'd always known her mother was re­ferring to Ashton Burke with that analogy, but she'd never given it the same interpretation Riley did. "I thought Mama meant that you shouldn't spend your life wish­ing for something you could never have. And more than that . . . I think maybe she was talking about Burke him­self. She was saying that he's just like a wild star—all flash and no substance."

  "Garrett Devlin has substance. You knew it the first time you laid eyes on him. You never would have brought him home, otherwise."

  She couldn't argue with that. Devlin had proven over and over again that he wasn't the same kind of man as Ashton Burke, even if he was rich and powerful.

  "I think you ought to go catch yourself that wild star," Riley said softly.

  "But . . . what if Devlin doesn't want to be caught?"

  "He wants to, Jess."

  "How can you tell?"

  "He came back here, didn't he? Why else would he move out to Colorado unless he meant to settle down?"

  "Maybe he figures he can make more money here than in Chicago."

  "Maybe he figures money isn't as important as the love of a good woman."

  That comment stumped Jess momentarily.

  "He isn't like all those other rich fellows around here, Jess, only out for himself. He's a fair man and a straight shooter. And I think you know it."

  "I suppose so," she admitted grudgingly. Devlin might be filthy rich, but he hadn't used his wealth to crush the little people who got in his way. In fact, he'd helped Riley get back on his feet again and risked his life to go head-to-head with Burke. And he'd fulfilled one of Clem's dreams, staking him to a mule ranch. Those weren't the acts of a selfish, greedy, manipulative man.

  "I also think you ought to give him a chance to explain what happened," Riley said after a minute.

  "You really think he plans to settle down?"

  "Yep. And if he does, he's gonna need a wife. You would be a good choice."

  Jess felt her heartbeat quicken with hope, but she shook her head. Devlin wouldn't want an unsophisticated, un­worldly, unfeminine Westerner like her for a wife. "He wouldn't want to marry me."

  "Well, I think he would. To tell the truth, I think he's al­ready made up his mind. He's just waiting for you to make up yours. If you love him, then you ought to try and work things out."

  "That isn't the question," Jess replied dejectedly. "I do love him . . . so much it hurts. The question is, does he love me?"

  "I reckon you better find out."

  She didn't know what to say. She'd had her hopes raised before, only to have them crushed by that faro dealer she'd seen Devlin kissing. But if it was true, that Devlin really did love her, then maybe she'd been mistaken about him again. Maybe he'd had a reason for kissing that woman on the street. Maybe she had overreacted. And maybe she'd ruined her chances to have a future with him, after all the times she'd accused him of things he hadn't done.

  "What am I going to do?" she asked finally.

  "I think you should go to that party Burke invited you to. Devlin's likely to be there, and you can talk to him about what happened."

  Jess shuddered. Ashton Burke embraced the best and most highly respected element of society. "I would just be out of place there."

  "No, you won't. You can hold your own with the best of 'em. You buy yourself a fancy new dress, and you'll be the prettiest girl there. If Devlin isn't in love with you, he will be when he sees you."

  Still Jess hesitated. She didn't want to go there alone and face Devlin all by herself. She couldn't bear it if he turned away.

  "Will you come with me?" she asked her father in a small voice.

  Riley smiled in the darkness and patted her hand. "Sure, I'll come with you. If you need me, Jess, I'll always be there."

  Chapter 21

  Her party gown was a creation of emerald-green silk and ecru lace that lovingly caressed her figure and left more of her bosom bare than Jess had ever before ex­posed in public. The low decolletage, off-the-shoulder and ornamented by a deep lace fichu, graced a cuirasse bodice and puffed, elbow-length sleeves. The lace underskirt fell in straight pleats, while the emerald faille overskirt gath­ered behind in a full bustle and ended in a train decorated with flounces and ruching.

  Jess felt positively indecent, but Flo insisted she looked beautiful and entirely appropriate for the occasion. The cheval mirror tended to agree. Eying herself critically, Jessica saw an elegant young woman richly gowned, her tawny hair swept up, with fringed bangs and curling ten­drils at the temples. Kid gloves and a fan completed the ensemble.

  Jess couldn't deny her guilt over the expense, though. The gown had taken the dressmaker the entire week to sew, and had cost a fortune. She also couldn't deny that she was as nervous as she'd ever been in her life. The army of butterflies had taken refuge in her stomach again, and she was quaking like the proverbial aspen. She'd staked her whole future on this one meeting with Devlin, and the suspense was driving her mad.

  At least Clem helped to ease her fears.

  "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat!" the wizened mule skinner ex­claimed when Jess finally emerged from her room, where she and Flo had been closeted all afternoon. He'd come over from the boardinghouse specifically to see her off, and now all he could do was gape. "You're gonna set that big-city fella on his ears, Jessie, that's fer shore."

  Flo beamed, her grin wide and smug. "She does look grand, doesn't she?"

  Riley—all dressed up himself in a tailcoat and tall opera hat—kissed his daughter on the cheek and held out his arm with a proud chuckle.

  Riley had hired a carriage for the occasion, but as they made the short drive to Georgetown, Jess was grateful for the velvet mantle that protected her shoulders against the chill of early November. Fallen aspen leaves swirled around the hem of her gown as Riley helped her down from the carriage. He gave her another encouraging smile, but all Jess could manage was a quivering one i
n return.

  They were met by a butler who took her wrap and showed them into a large chamber that appeared to be a cross between a ballroom and a drawing room. An orches­tra played quietly in one corner, competing with a buzz of polite conversation. A crowd of some fifty people were al­ready gathered there, all superbly dressed in swallow-tailed coats or evening dresses. Jess didn't feel so out of place for the elegant evening.

  Ashton Burke must have been watching for them, for he came up to Jess almost at once and took her hand. "Wel­come, my dear. I'm delighted you could come. I have several people I want you to meet."

  Looking every inch the proud papa—although not di­vulging a word about their relationship—Burke escorted Jessica and Riley around the room, introducing them as ri­val mine owners to the kind of rich, high-powered men Jess had always despised. There were several capitalists from Denver who had ridden the train up for the occasion with their wives, a railroad magnate from Kansas City, a silver baron from neighboring Leadville, a state senator, and two mayors.

  Jess was listening politely to one of the Denver capital­ists and looking surreptitiously around for Devlin when she finally saw him. Her heart took on a suddenly erratic rhythm, while her breath ebbed away. He looked positively magnificent in a black cutaway evening coat and white silk bow tie that subtly declared his wealth and authority.

  He had one shoulder propped negligently against a wall, and had hooked a thumb in the pocket of his white, single-breasted waistcoat. A half dozen ladies had gathered around him, obviously vying for his attention. And no wonder, Jess thought with a surge of bitter jealousy. Dev­lin exuded raw masculinity and power, an aura as potent and alluring as catnip to a cat.

  He was watching her, Jess realized with sudden sur­prise. When she met his eyes, though, he deliberately dropped his gaze, moving it slowly over her, down the ex­panse of emerald silk and lifting again to fasten on the low neckline of her gown. His intense scrutiny made her feel as if he were caressing her naked breasts.

  Jess felt the color rise to her cheeks. Her nipples had tightened in direct response to his perusal, while a flare of heat had suddenly gathered between her thighs.