Cloudcastle

by Nan Ryan

  "Natalie, dear!" exclaimed Ashlin Blackmore.

  "Why, ma'am, I'm well aware that your boundary reaches to… hmmm… 9,656 feet. That correct?" He shoved his hands into his back pockets and grinned.

  Natalie's hands went to her hips and she took a menacing step toward him. "Good for you, Covington. You can add and subtract." She lifted her chin challengingly. "Cut down one tree below your property line and I'll haul you into my court!"

  Ashlin Blackmore, shaking his head, reached out and put a calming hand on Natalie's arm. "Darling, Kane wouldn't dream of disturbing your trees." He gave her a gentle silencing squeeze that thoroughly annoyed an already irritated Natalie. Instinctively, she flinched. Ashlin withdrew his hand, but said commandingly, "Why don't you offer Kane some refreshment while I go out and saddle Blaze?" Ignoring her look of dismay, he said to Kane, "Have her show you around." Ashlin was off the porch then, slapping the swagge stick against his whipcord breeches, crossing the yard to circle the house.

  "Why don't you show me around," said Kane as soon as he and Natalie were alone. "I'll show you nothing," she retorted coldly. "What are you doing here?"

  Kane lifted wide shoulders. "Your fiancé has already told you. I was on my way into town. Lord Blackmore kindly invited me to go horseback riding with the two of you. Here I am." Kane swept the Stetson from his head, releasing an unruly forelock of raven hair. He tossed his hat onto the green-and-white-cushioned wicker settee, took off his black leather gloves and stuffed them into a hip pocket, all the while looking appraisingly at Natalie. "I liked your tight pants and undershirt much better than—"

  "Will you keep your voice down!"

  Kane grinned. "Have it your way."

  "I intend to, Covington."

  "A woman after my own heart."

  Natalie ignored the remark. "Ashlin mentioned refreshments. What do you want?"

  "You."

  "I beg your pardon?" Her pulse speeded up, despite her anger and dislike for the man.

  "You heard me."

  "Mr. Covington, my fiancé was kind enough to invite you here this afternoon. How could you undermine him?"

  "How could you?"

  "I couldn't… I…" Her voice faltered, then trailed away.

  Kane swiftly moved in for the kill. "You could. You did. And you will again." He was suddenly standing so close to her, Natalie could see the sheen of perspiration covering his dark throat and chest. She breathed shallowly and felt a premonitory twinge of fear.

  "Never again," she said, defiantly lifting her chin.

  A lean male hand quickly captured that chin and Kane's electric blue eyes went to her trembling mouth. "You will, Judge. And we both know it."

  "You're no good, Kane Covington," she accused.

  "Ah, that's so true, but then neither, Your Honor, are you." He smiled and added, "The only difference between us is that I don't pretend to be something I'm not."

  "Are you saying that I do?"

  Kane softly chuckled and skimmed his tanned thumb back and forth over her chin. "No more so than most women."

  "You have no use for women, do you, Covington?" She brushed his hand from her face.

  "I've a very good use for you. Shall I come visit you tonight and show—"

  Violently she shoved on his chest, recoiling when her hands touched damp, male hair. "Get off my porch, Mr. Covington, and don't ever come here again! Go back to your—"

  "Natalie!" Ashlin Blackmore called, leading Natalie's saddled stallion. "How could you be so rude? I invited Kane to ride with us." He looped the big steed's reins over the hitching post close to the other horses and came up the walk. "Just what is going on here? Natalie? Kane?"

  "Mrs. Vallance was just commenting that perhaps I shouldn't be losing time away from my house-building." Kane smiled easily. "She suggested I get to cutting lumber immediately."

  "Nonsense," said Ashlin Blackmore. "You can start bright and early tomorrow."

  "So I can," drawled Kane, retrieving his Stetson from the settee. Then swung down the front steps into the sunlight.

  To Natalie's dismay, she found herself being lifted into her sidesaddle by Kane Covington, and she wondered how, when only the man's hands touched her waist, he could manage to make the gesture somehow sexual, intimate, unseemly. And she also wondered why on earth Ashlin couldn't see it. Was he so blind and insensitive that he noticed nothing?

  "Shall I show you where I'm to live?" asked Kane, addressing Ashlin.

  "By all means," the blond man responded pleasantly while Natalie ground her teeth.

  Kane nodded, swung loosely up into the saddle, reined his mount next to Natalie's bay stallion, and said, "Shall we?"

  "By all means," Natalie sweetly parroted Ashlin's words.

  The riders cantered across the rolling valley to the southeast, Natalie Ranked by the two men. They talked little as they rode and Natalie, still smarting from Kane's cruel words and threatening presence, wore a sullen expression that worried Ashlin and amused Kane.

  Half an hour into their ride, Lord Blackmore's fair face was flushing bright pink and Natalie, irritated to begin with, found that, too, somehow exasperating. Why was he foolishly riding bareheaded under the fierce Colorado sun? He'd blister for sure.

  "Ashlin, you're turning red," she said, leaning in his direction.

  "We're not far from the south fork of the San Miguel." He pressed a hand to his jaw. "We'll stop there and rest in the shade." She nodded in agreement.

  In minutes Ashlin was helping Natalie dismount beneath a stand of blue spruce at river's edge. Kane remained in the saddle. "Kane, don't you want to join us? The water's cold and pure," Ashlin said. "You two go ahead. I'll enjoy a smoke." Kane caught Natalie's look of relief.

  No sooner had Ashlin taken Natalie's arm and guided her down the grassy banks, than she was questioning him, "Why, Ashlin, would you bring that man to my home? Invite him to ride with us?" She was scowling, high brow puckered, lips tight with annoyance.

  "Darling, it's not like you to act this way. What do you have against this man?"

  "Are you deaf and blind, Ashlin! The man is a thieving southerner who has taken my land?"

  Ashlin shook his golden head. "Natalie, your husband is responsible for Kane's owning Promontory Point." Natalie opened her mouth, but Ashlin hurried on. "Now, darling, I'm not speaking ill of the deceased, I'm saying that Mr. Covington came by the land in an honest game of cards and it's not fair—"

  "Fair?" Natalie snapped, and jerked her arm free. "Do you think it's fair that a worthless southerner—one of the Rebels who killed Devlin—should live not a stone's throw from my home? Should own my land!"

  "Natalie." Ashlin again took her arm and urged her toward the river. "The war has been over for years, it's time you forgot."

  "I shall never forget!"

  Ashlin sighed. "Dear, your uncle you speak of so often… is a southerner, a—"

  "Uncle Shelby is 'a Texan; there's a difference, he—"

  "He fought for the Confederacy, Natalie, just as Kane did." Ashlin suddenly halted, pulling her back to him. "I think there's more to it. More than Kane's being a southerner. More than his owning a worthless tip of Cloud West. Is there something I don't know?"

  Natalie felt heat rising to her cheeks. She had never told Ashlin of the secret Cliff Palace with its gold treasure; a treasure that now lay upon land owned by Covington. Nor had she revealed that Kane Covington was the man with whom she had spent the night at Spanish Widow. She'd not told anyone. Obviously, neither had Kane Covington. It was too late now. If she confessed, Ashlin might suspect why she hadn't told him before.

  Anxiously she changed the subject. "I just received a long letter from Uncle Shelby the other day. He'll be coming to Cloudcastle this winter."

  "Dear, that's wonderful. I'll finally meet the man I've heard so much about. I hope he can stay for a nice long visit."

  "I do too," Natalie said, wondering just how well her brash, outspoken uncle would get along with the refined
Lord Blackmore. "I'm thirsty," she said, hurrying away and calling over her shoulder, "Look, Ashlin, how high the river is from all the summer rains."

  Tons of fast-moving icy water surged rapidly downstream, splashing and spilling over the river's stony banks. The rushing current sped along the river's rock bottom with a velocity that caused white, lacy foam to spray off the jutting boulders in midstream and lap at the sloping banks. The loud roar of the tumbling waters made it necessary to shout in order to be heard above the roaring din.

  "Careful, darling," Ashlin called to Natalie, "don't slip on the rocks."

  "I won't," Natalie yelled, and sank to her knees beside the crashing, pounding river.

  Kane, blue eyes squinted, looked out over the wide, rushing river, glinting silver in the distance. His gaze drifted to the couple on its rocky banks. Natalie had taken off her flat-crowned hat. Her russet hair was blazing in the sunlight. Kane found himself wishing Ashlin Blackmore were nowhere in sight.

  Kane shifted in the saddle and gritted his teeth.

  After the couple drank of the cold, clear water, Ashlin gallantly bathed Natalie's warm face with his clean white handkerchief, then lifted it to his own. At last he smiled at Natalie and said, "Darling, go on back, I'll follow in a few minutes." And his handsome face grew redder still.

  Irritated anew, Natalie said nothing. She whirled away and stormed back up the trail while Ashlin Blackmore disappeared into the trees.

  Natalie neared Kane.

  He sat relaxing in the saddle, turned in the seat, a long leg around the horn, resting on the horses shiny neck.

  From underneath the brim of his black hat, he watched through cold blue eyes as Natalie came toward him, her delicate jaw set in obvious displeasure.

  From his breast pocket Kane pulled a small canvas sack of Lone Jack smoking tobacco, found a packet of thin cigarette papers, took one, and held it delicately with thumb and forefinger. He tapped some tobacco into the paper, pulled the drawstring tight with his teeth, and dropped it back into his pocket. With both hands he rolled the paper around the tobacco.

  Natalie was nearly to him.

  Bold blue eyes on her unhappy face, Kane slowly put out his tongue and moistened the edge of the paper, purposely taking his time, so that the haughty beauty on the ground below him could closely observe his actions. When he saw her lips part and her tongue dart out to wet them, Kane stuck the handmade smoke between his teeth and lit it.

  Drawing on the cigarette, he sat there with the dark hat pushed low over his handsome face. Gazing down at Natalie from narrowed blue eyes, the cigarette jutting from his mouth, long leg swung over the horn, he had an unconsciously arrogant, disdainful look that was both immensely annoying and undeniably appealing.

  She was staring. She couldn't help herself While he unemotionally observed her, she was drawn by the compelling animal magnetism he effortlessly exuded. There was about this man an air of bored superiority that made her long to smack his smug face. At the same time there was a brooding sadness that made her ye am to kiss away the hardness from his cruel mouth. But above all, there was about him a barely leashed sexual power that tempted her to know again the ecstasy of his arms. So potent was that power, she caught herself imagining him climbing down from his horse and taking her right there on the ground with her fiancé only yards away.

  "I feel the very same way," drawled Kane knowingly, and Natalie knew that the dark devil had read her dirty daydreams in her eyes. He watched through a curtain of smoke from his smoldering cigarette as Natalie's cheeks caught fire and she whirled away in angered frustration.

  Natalie was silent on the ride back to Cloud West, paying little attention to what either man said. All she wanted was to get home and for both of them to leave so she could be alone.

  "That's a fine-looking stallion you're riding, Judge Vallance." Natalie was drawn back into the conversation by Kane.

  "Yes, he is," she responded without turning her head.

  "One of the finest," offered Lord Blackmore. "Natalie paid a handsome price for him, but he's worth every penny."

  "Where did you buy the stallion, Judge?"

  "A neighboring rancher," she was noncommittal.

  "Jude Monroe's place is down the mountain from Natalie, just off Paradise Road. He breeds and sells cow ponies. Has a brother to Natalie's stallion for sale, or so I've heard. Looks just like Blaze, same color, same deep chest and—"

  "I'll go buy him today," said Kane.

  "Good, good," Lord Blackmore said, smiling sunnily, not noticing how Natalie had stiffened in the saddle. "Nothing like fine horseflesh and lots of open space to make a man feel alive."

  Kane inhaled deeply and nodded. "I'm sure pleased I'll be living here in the Territory." He knew Natalie was about to explode. "This is beautiful country, Blackmore. Breathtaking."

  "That it is. You'll have to join Natalie and me again some time. It's most pleasurable to ride at night this time of year. Air cold on your face and a big harvest moon bathing these mountains and valleys in silvery light. I do enjoy the cool moonlit evenings!"

  "Oh, I don't know," drawled Kane musingly. "I'm rather partial to sweltering summer nights that are moonless. The kind that are so dark, you can't see a hand before your face or the sweat covering your body." His narrow-eyed gaze swung to the silent Natalie. "How about you, Justice Vallance?"

  Longing to slap his dark, arrogant face, Natalie smiled and replied with calm composure, "No, Mr. Covington, I do not like hot, moonless nights. One never knows what kind of distasteful animal might be lurking in the darkness."

  "Hmmm." Kane's full lips stretched into a devilish smile. "That's true. Or," he added pointedly, "what kind of animal one might turn into in the darkness." He chuckled softly when Natalie, hat bouncing off her head, dug her silver-trimmed spurs into her big mount's flanks and angrily thundered ahead. "I say, dreadfully sorry about Natalie's rudeness. Women are damned difficult to understand at times," Ashlin said in embarrassment. Kane Covington simply smiled.

  Three days later, Natalie and Ashlin were seated in the Blackmore carriage outside the Castleton County Courthouse. Kane, astride a gleaming bay stallion, rode around the corner from the blacksmith shop. Ashlin immediately waved and called to him. Kane reined in his freshly shod, newly purchased mount and approached them.

  Determined to hold her temper, Natalie managed a polite smile. For Ashlin's benefit. Not for Kane's. She knew it was vitally important that she learn to treat Kane with a degree of civility whenever Ashlin, or anyone else, was around.

  "You purchased the horse," Ashlin noted.

  Kane swung down from the stallion's back and came to the open buggy. Reins held loosely in his hand, his eyes flicked over Natalie, dismissed her, and went to Lord Blackmore. He lifted a booted foot to the carnage step on her side, put a gloved hand on the back of the seat behind her, and addressed Blackmore.

  "I'm very much obliged that you told me about Satan."

  Natalie's eyebrows shot up at once and she opened her mouth to make a snide remark, caught herself, drew a breath, and smiled sweetly at Kane. "A novel name."

  "Is it?" He looked over his shoulder at the shimmering bay. Satan shook his great head and whickered. "He answers to it," Kane assured Natalie.

  Natalie had no choice but to smile and listen patiently while the two men conversed about Kane's stallion. She paid little attention, but when Ashlin changed the subject, Natalie could hardly hold her tongue.

  "Kane, you ready for El Dorado Day?" Ashlin questioned. "Beg pardon?"

  "Haven't you noticed the decorations going up all over Cloudcastle?" Ashlin indicated the red, white, and blue bunting that graced many of the storefronts and hitchrails. "Each year the miners celebrate El Dorado Day. A gold prise goes to the sourdough who brings in the largest nugget." Ashlin took Natalie's hand. "Tell him about it, my dear."

  Reluctantly, Natalie explained to Kane that the celebration had grown each year; that it was an all-day affair with the gold-weighing as well as
the strong-man competition, various games and entertainment, plus a meal at both noon and night.

  "You coming?" asked Kane, looking directly at her.

  "She'll be there," Ashlin answered enthusiastically. "Natalie judges some of the contests. And by the way, the whole thing is topped off by the big El Dorado Dance that night. I'm sure I'll be called on to share Natalie at the dance." He laughed and added, "There's hardly enough females to go around."

  "When is the big day, Your Honor?" Kane's lean fingers played idly upon the smooth leather of the carriage seat, almost, but not quite, touching Natalie's shoulder.

  "A week from Saturday, although I'm afraid, Mr. Covington, you might find the festivities a bit quaint."

  "I'll be the judge of that, Judge," drawled Kane, taking his foot down from the buggy step. He nodded good day to Lord Blackmore, and grinned at the blaze of fire he saw flickering in the emerald eyes of the woman who was so desperately trying to maintain her composure.

  Chapter Twelve

  The nip of the crisp autumn days sharpened with winter's approach. The clear, thin air was invigorating and exhilarating. But the chill of the high-country nights was extreme, the mercury plummeted with the abrupt setting of the sun. Extra logs were tossed into fireplaces and heavy blankets were taken out of trunks and chests to be spread upon beds. Lightweight clothing gave way to woolens, and shivering miners and cowboys imbibed large quantities of bracing whiskey in the local saloons as bets were taken at the bar on the date of Cloudcastle's first snowfall.

  And it was stiff only September.

  Kane Covington was racing against the calendar. He was anxious to get his cabin built before the onset of deep snows. Knowing the job was too much for a man alone, he looked in town for hired help.

  On a morning so frigid, his breath was a white vapor on the air, Kane descended the front steps of the Baker house, dodged the oncoming ice wagon, and went directly to the Gilded Cage Saloon. He stepped through the slatted, hinged doors and looked about, his eyes dilating in the dim room. A couple of weary miners stood at the long, polished bar. It was obvious by their state of drunkenness that they had been there all night. A poker game was in progress at a green baize table beneath the west stairs. Kane squinted, looked about. He didn't notice the slumped, frail figure in the darkened corner shakily lifting his glass.