He swallowed, trying to process what she’d just said. Standing so close threw him off kilter when she seared him with those deep violet eyes marbled with flecks of blue. The effect was striking and unique. But who wouldn’t be drawn to eyes the size of silver coins?
I don’t like her, he reminded himself with a shake of his head. Except for the smooth paleness of her skin, not a blemish or freckle to mar its perfection. That, he most definitely liked. But not her nose. It was the only feature that fit the role she played, slim and slightly pointed; the perfect nose to stare down at somebody, like she was with him that very moment.
He might have felt the sting of her haughty regard if not for the distraction of her soft lips. A natural deep rose color, their fullness puckered into a delicious looking frown. His tongue slid out to wet his bottom lip, imagining how she tasted. Before his thoughts could travel further south, his eyes slid to her throat and the gauzy black lace fastening her hat to her head.
Why was she always wearing one of those damned things?
The giant bow tied beneath her chin was ridiculous. It was too frilly for the frostiness in her countenance. And it hid her beautiful skin from his view. He flicked the edge of the lace with the tip of his finger as he spoke.
“What's with the stupid hats all the time?”
She produced her high-pitched laughter as she rolled her eyes. “I vood not expect a filthy miner to know anything about fashion.” Her eyes scanned his clothing as she sneered. “Nothing at all. Now, are you leaving like I asked?”
“Afraid not,” he said as he leaned comfortably against the counter. “Not until you tell me the truth.”
“What makes you think I am lying?”
“I've got a funny feeling in my gut.”
“Perhaps you should eat something.” She stamped her foot and thrust a pointed finger toward the door. “Out of my shop. Now!”
He closed the distance between them and lowered his voice to dispel the casual mood he'd entered with. “I don't like being lied to, and I’m not about to let a liar go slithering around my family.”
“Ha!” she barked, unafraid. “Says zee man whose best friend was a murderer and a robber who almost keeled your brother! Forgive me if I do not quiver at your powers of perception.”
Val's jaw clenched. He stalked closer, causing her to retreat back behind the counter. “Enough with the games. I'm not leaving until I get what I came for.”
Her eyes narrowed into determined slits. “Yes you are, Monsieur.”
In a move Val predicted, Collette's hand whipped up from behind the counter, brandishing the same six-shooter she'd used to kill David. As she swung the barrels to face him, his hand came up and batted it back down to the counter, pinning both it and her hand to the wood. He leveled an impatient scowl at her. They both knew she wouldn’t shoot him. He heard the scrape of feet coming from the hall to his right and turned to find Helene standing in the doorway, her mouth agape as she took in the scene.
“It’s all right,” Collette soothed. “Everything is fine.”
Not wanting to frighten Helene, Val released Collette’s hand. He looked from the woman to the wide eyes of her sister, and his brow furrowed.
“Why don’t you speak to Helene in French?”
The hard corners of her eyes relaxed in worry. "Vut are you talking about?”
“She is your sister, is she not?”
“Of course she is.”
“Then, why speak English instead of French? Could it be, perhaps, neither of you are from France? Does the poor dear not understand a word of the language?”
She huffed, but he could see the light of fear dawning in her eyes. He was getting closer.
“I speak English to help her learn zee language. We may be from France but we live in America now. She must become comfortable with zee language.”
“Hmm…” He turned his gaze to Helene. “Cherie, peux-tu me comprende?”
Each second Helene did not respond was a beat of triumph in his ears, but even when she finally nodded and Collette's shoulders relaxed, he was not deterred. He'd asked too simple a question. Being around Collette's fractured French would have taught her the phrase.
“Satisfied, Monsieur?” Collette asked with a smug smile.
“Not quite.”
He held out his arm to Helene and beckoned her to him with a crook of his finger. While he gestured, he spoke in French. “If you understand me, stay right where you are.”
Helene's eyes darted to Collette's but she remained still, aware Val was watching her. After a short pause, he was rewarded when Helene began walking toward him. He was right. She didn't understand French. Before he could crow, Collette moved to place herself between him and Helene. The look on her face was enough to widen his grin.
“Leave her out of this,” she said with an unmistakable growl of warning.
The tone of her voice was deep and breathy, a soulful opposition to the noise she'd been pretending. It was smooth, sensual, and completely free of any foreign accent. She was American.
Despite the confirmation of his suspicions, he shut his eyes for a moment at the way the depth of her new voice rolled over him. “Now, that's a pretty purr.”
She was unmoved by his flattery. Her gaze was fierce, her stance challenging and unforgiving.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “And you can wipe that goddamn smirk off your face.”
“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Val said, his grin widening. Her fists clenched at her sides and she took a deep breath.
“I asked you what you wanted,” she repeated, the words as tight and coiled as a spring.
“I want answers.”
“Too bad.”
He snorted and his eyes went wide. “Too bad?”
“That’s right,” she said with a nod. “You are not entitled to any information about me just because you sussed out my ruse. What are you planning to do with your newfound knowledge?”
Val chewed on his bottom lip while he studied her. “If you want answers from me, you have to give me some. Now, I’ll ask you a question first. If you answer, then I’ll answer your question.” Collette opened her mouth to protest but he held up a silencing finger. “First question. Is your name really Collette?”
She hesitated, probably weighing combating thoughts in her head, but she must know there was no point in lying. When it came to interrogations, people rarely asked a question they didn’t already know the answer to.
“No, my name is not Collette.”
Val tilted his head and made a sweeping motion with his hand for her to continue. “And your real name is?”
“That’s two questions,” she returned with a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t answered mine yet.”
He sighed. “Which question?”
“What are you planning to do now you know about our ruse?”
“I’m not planning on outing you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“Then why are you so hell-bent on knowing everything? Why not just keep your suspicions to yourself? Why would you care if I am who I say I am?”
He shifted against the counter. “That’s three questions. My turn. Real names? Yours and hers.”
She looked at her sister, who was grinning ear-to-ear. The sight made her scowl before she turned back to Val.
“My name is Jessica and hers is Marlena.”
“No last names, I imagine.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nope.”
He chuckled softly and shook his head. “What are you running from?”
“Why do you care?”
The shop door swung open, and Caroline walked in. Jessica narrowed her eyes at Val, daring him to expose her. When he said nothing, she assumed her French accent and took Caroline to the back dressing room. Smugness nestled warm in his belly like a hearty meal. He locked eyes with Marlena and smirked.
“She’s really going to hate me now, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Probably,” she said. A laugh bubbled ou
t of her chest and Val joined it with his own chuckles. Their laughter grew when Jessica returned and her eyebrows shot up like arrowheads as she balled her fists at her sides.
“Time for you to leave, Val,” Jessica pronounced.
“I won’t keep you,” he returned. “Go ahead and work. There’s more to discuss. I’ll just chat with Marlena ‘til you’re through.”
“Shhh!” She rushed to him and swatted his arm. “Keep your voice down. This may be a game to you, but this is our lives. We can’t afford to have you slip up. Unless we are one hundred percent alone, which I will make sure we never are, she is Helene and I am Collette. That is all you ever need know. Now, please leave.”
Val sobered. A dozen arguments rushed to his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut, nodded once and left the store. He wouldn’t risk exposing her by pressing the situation with a customer in the shop. He already learned more than expected, but he still needed to talk about Stacy. If she wanted him gone, he’d go, but not far and not for long.
Chapter 10
When the door closed behind Val, Jessica grabbed Marlena’s arms and turned her so they stood face-to-face. It was a struggle not to shake the life out of her.
“Why are you smiling? Do you realize how dangerous this is for us?”
“What’s dangerous?” Marlena dismissed as she shrugged out of Jessica’s grip. “So, Val knows who we aren’t. That doesn’t mean he knows who we are.”
“It’s only a matter of time with you getting all chummy. If nothing else, Valentine Kelly is disarming. He’ll butter you up and the next thing you’re spilling your guts to him.”
“And so what if I did? You’re not telling me you think Val would turn us in, do you? He’s good and honest, and protective.”
“Oh, girl, that’s your infatuation talking. Neither of us really knows Valentine Kelly.”
“That’s your fear talking. I learned everything I needed to know about Val the day he sacrificed himself for his brother. Someone who would give up their life for their sibling is a person whose character I would never question.”
Jess felt the weight of Marlena’s stare and the conviction of her words, but she said nothing.
“Besides,” Marlena continued. “It’s nice to finally be able to talk to someone besides you.” When Jess flinched and turned wounded eyes on her sister, Marlena crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “Don’t make me feel guilty for saying that, Jess. You get to talk to everybody. I’m the one who has to act the meek and quiet Helene.”
“That’s not fair,” Jess returned. “We both agreed to the plan because you don’t speak French and can’t pull off a French accent.”
“Neither can you, apparently,” Marlena said with a smirk.
“You little turncoat.”
Jess threw a pin cushion at her sister’s head. Marlena caught it and threw it back. They both giggled. Soon, however, the reality settled to form a tight knot between Jess’s shoulder blades. She set the cushion down and went to her younger sister.
“In all seriousness, sweetie, we can’t afford to be careless. It’s true the danger feels less real the more time passes, but I don’t want to put our trust in the passage of time. You know you can hang for what you did?”
Marlena’s eyes flitted with worry. “But it was self-defense.”
Jess’s palm held her sister’s cheek. “There’s no such thing for a woman, unless she’s got a man for a witness. But don’t you worry. Neither of us will hang. You just do your part and be mindful of what you say around Val.”
Her gut clenched as she watched the good humor flee Marlena’s eyes to be replaced with fear. She didn’t want to remind her of their perilous situation, but they couldn’t risk exposure.
When Caroline left an hour later, Jess made notations in her workbook before lighting a candle and entering her bed chamber. The room was the tiniest in the building and had no windows. There was space only for a bed, small wardrobe and a wash stand. She went to her knees and set the candle on the floor so she could pry open a loose floorboard.
After gathering a few dollar bills from the box beneath it, her eyes fell on the solid gold pocket watch stuffed in the box along with an ivory hair comb, the last remnants of her parents. She flipped open the watch and ran her fingers over the time forever stitched in her brain. Seventeen minutes past five o’clock; the time she learned of her father’s death. She’d stopped the watch, vowing never to hear it tick again. Before emotions could swell, she put the watch back in the box and covered the hiding spot with the wooden board.
Marlena was organizing and stacking their new shipment of hats when Jess emerged with her workbook in hand and a flashy, peacock blue hat fastened to her head.
“I’m running down to the General Store to place an order for the ribbon we’ll need for Caroline’s pieces. Do you want to come?”
“No, I’ll stay here. I’ve got another box to get through. I’ll just lock the door behind you.”
“See you shortly.”
Jess made her way to the shop and paid for her order. Studying the receipt on the way back, she grimaced at a mistake written by the clerk. With an impatient huff, she spun on her heel just as a pair of hands ripped her from the boardwalk and into the narrow space between two buildings. A hand clamped over her mouth, capturing her scream.
Her pulse pounded at the base of her throat as she was dragged down the lane and shoved into a niche made by the step of a side door. Her gun was in the pocket of her dress if she could reach it, but the hold on her restricted the mobility of her arms. Suddenly, she was spun around and pressed nose-to-nose with Val. She felt the bulge of her eyes and the red hot flush of anger burning in her ears.
“You’re being followed,” he whispered urgently. “Say nothing and come with me quickly. We’ll make our way to the church.”
He didn’t give her any time to reply, but she wouldn’t have fought him. His eyes were earnest and she believed him instantly. He took her hand and led them at a run down the lane to the next row of businesses. They rounded a corner, and he stopped to peer back down the lane. When the way was clear, they ran again, always moving in between buildings and ducking around corners until they pushed through the front doors and ran into the empty chapel of St. Mary’s Church.
Jess panted and waited as Val peered through a crack in the door. When he was satisfied, he shut it and turned only to be attacked by her leather workbook.
“Have you lost your mind?!” She whacked his right arm. “You don’t pull a woman off the street like that.” Whack! On the left arm. “You scared the living daylights out of me.” Whack! “I could have shot you.” Whack! One more to the top of his head before he reached out and grabbed her forearms, stalling her attack in mid-air.
“Did you miss the part where I said you were being followed?” he shouted back.
“How would you know I was being followed unless you were following me?”
“When I left the shop I thought I noticed someone watching the place, so I stuck around to be sure. When you left, he followed you, and then I knew.”
Jess gasped and covered her mouth when Val released her arms. “Marlena! She’s at the shop alone. I need to get back there.” She tried to push Val aside but he moved in her path.
“Marlena is fine.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “How do you know?”
“Because when you left and he followed, I took Marlena to Juliet’s for safekeeping. She told me you’d gone to the General Store, so I went looking for you and saw he was still on your tail.”
Jess felt her mouth slacken before it curled around a growl, and she hit him with her book again. Whack! On his right shoulder. “You took my thirteen-year-old sister to a brothel?!” Whack! To the left shoulder. “What kind of a man takes a little girl to a place like that for safekeeping?” Whack! Whack! Whack!
“Dammit, Jess!” He grabbed the book and hit her on the shoulder with it. Whack!
She stood stock still and stared at him with her
mouth agape. “You hit me,” she breathed in astonishment.
Val scoffed. “I didn’t do it hard, but still. It doesn’t feel good, does it?” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair, stopping to rub at the spot she’d hit. “You know, I had hoped this part of you was more of the Collette façade, but no. That spit and fire appears to be all Jessica.”
She finally calmed her breathing and closed her mouth. “Give me my book back.”
“Not a chance. Not until we talk. I don’t won’t to have to worry about you attacking me while I explain things.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Holding my book doesn’t guarantee you of that.”
“No, I imagine not. Not with you.” The side of his mouth curved upward in a boyishly handsome smirk as he shook his head. She swallowed thickly and put her hands on her hips.
“Well? I’m listening.”
He took a deep breath. “This is what I wanted to tell you before you shooed me out of your shop. I think you and Marlena might be in danger, and it’s my fault.”
She felt her brow deepen into creases. “Go on.”
“The day Leonard Stacy came to visit me at Ellie’s, he made a statement that suggests he might possibly harm you.”
“Why would Stacy want to harm me?”
“Because he wants my mine and I won’t give it to him. He thinks we’re entangled in some sort of affair and that I care for you. He said he was prepared to do whatever it took to get me to yield, and I think that means going after you.”
Jess calmed the racing of her pulse and the flutters in her belly. “Why would he think you…care for me?”
Val chewed on the inside of his cheek and winced as if the words were painful to say. “He knows I spent the night at your shop that one night and has...drawn his own conclusions as to why I was there.”
Jess’s jaw clenched and she had to walk away to avoid pummeling him. All of this because she let a drunk man escape the cold and his injuries on her couch. The breath scraped hotly through her nostrils as her rage came roaring to life. One by one, she cracked the knuckles on each hand as she paced back and forth. She spun around and almost laughed at the sheepish look on his face, but she was too angry to laugh.
Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2) Page 7
