“Why didn’t you say something that day, Val? Good Lord, it’s been four days since the threat was issued and I’ve been carrying on, oblivious!”
“I did say something. Remember? I told you to stay away but you were too enticed by his money, as I recall.”
“You didn’t tell me why. You could have been a bit more specific, you know.”
“I was being discreet for your benefit. I didn’t think you’d want me mentioning in front of Ellie that I spent the night at your place.”
She balled her fists on her hips and resumed pacing before him. “I might have known inviting you into my shop would bring me trouble. As if I don’t have my own problems to worry about, you’ve gone and plopped this on my lap. Thank you very much.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Jess. I never meant to put you in danger. Hell, I felt responsible enough to stay in town to look after you when I’m not even sure you’re worth protecting. Doesn’t that make up for some of it?”
She stopped pacing and began applauding. “Well done, Val. You are the epitome of heroism. They sure don’t make ‘em like you anymore.”
“Yeah, well,” he said dryly. “You’re no picnic yourself, sweetheart.”
Simultaneously, they crossed their arms over their chests and turned their backs on one another. Jessica shook her head, wondering if this was all some sign from above it was time to move on from Virginia City.
“I really am sorry, Jess,” Val said after a while, his voice sincere.
She took a deep breath and calmed her voice. “I know you’re sorry, Val. What I don’t know is what I can do other than leave.”
“Leave?” She heard him turn around, so she faced him.
“Yes, leave. I’d already begun considering it after your visit this afternoon. Now, it seems like the wisest course of action.”
His expression looked torn. “I don’t think it’s as bad as all that yet. We ought to be able to come up with a solution that doesn’t run you out of town.”
“It’s all right,” she said reassuringly. “This is our life, running from our demons forever. It was dangerous enough with you knowing the truth. But I can’t afford to have a man like Leonard Stacy scrutinizing me. He has the means and ways to find out things that must be left undiscovered. So, there it is. I’ve decided we will go. I’ll finish the orders I have pending and leave. Please make my apologies to Lila for me.”
Val took a step closer, his face pained as he shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I…didn’t mean for this to happen.”
She shrugged, ignoring her creeping sadness. “It was bound to happen anyway. Now, let’s go get Marlena.”
They headed toward the door, but Val turned around. “If you’re leaving soon, I’m staying in Virginia City to look after you two until you go. I don’t trust Stacy and his men, and I won’t leave you alone knowing they’re lurking around.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held a hand up to silence her. “No, Jess. This is not negotiable. Whether I camp out in your store or outside in the alleyway, I’m not leaving you unattended.”
Jess chewed on her lip as she considered the idea. It would be better to have another watchman, she knew. And, he owed it to them. He put them in this predicament in the first place. So, she nodded and they left the church. She watched him walk beside her, no limp or cane.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
“How does what feel?”
“Walking without a cane?”
He studied her face for a long moment, his eyes bearing down on her as if he could see her soul. She almost looked away. “It feels like the first sunrise after a long sleep.”
Chapter 11
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Val drummed his fingertips over the tabletop again and again, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. His plate was empty, the meal Jess prepared having been one of the best he’d ever eaten. The sisters sat on the couch before the hearth, sewing furiously. Unbidden, his eyes drifted to the eldest. Her hair looked bright white as the fire blazed behind her, and she still had her blue, frilly hat tied around her neck. The woman loved her headpieces, but they didn’t align with the person he was starting to sense she was.
When he’d told her she was being followed, he expected her to be afraid. Any other woman he called to mind would have broken into tears and quivered in his arms while imploring his help, which he would have freely given. Not Jess. What he got from her was fury, and the calm acceptance to leave town. Not to mention she nearly laughed at his offer of protection. He had a feeling it was with good reason. The woman was tough.
Her face remained blank as Marlena babbled incessantly about her experience at Juliet’s, a long-winded tale that earned Val several swift, icy glares from Jessica.
“I have never seen carpet that color,” Marlena carried on. “I wouldn’t even know how they would make a red that deep to dye it.”
“Probably with the blood of incurable men.” Jess said, sending another dirty look to him across the room.
Val rolled his eyes. His fingers pounded the table harder and faster.
Jess finally blew out an impatient breath. “I don’t want to hear about it anymore, Marlena, and Val! My tabletop is not a musical instrument. Please stop playing it.”
“Apologies, Mademoiselle,” he said in mock politeness. “I hate being idle.”
“Don’t be idle then. Do something.”
“Like what?”
“You can read a book or play cards or wash the dishes. That is, unless you want to help me sew?”
“I can do that,” he said, joining them near the hearth. He pulled the corner chair to the fireplace and laughed at the wide-eyed stares of both girls. “What?”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Jess asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be? My mama insisted on a well-rounded education. She was a working woman. It took all four of us to tend our farm. She wasn’t about to do all the sewing on her own.”
Jess smiled softly and chuckled. “Good for her.”
“And apparently good for you, too. What can I help with?”
“Just join the seams here with a straight stitch,” she said, handing him two sections of fabric.
“Easy enough,” he said, and went to work. He felt Jessica’s eyes on him and he looked up to return her smile.
“You have no idea how silly you look, sitting there sewing by the fire,” she said.
“Careful, now,” he teased. “If I hear you telling anybody about this you’ll lose whatever help I can offer.”
She giggled, a strange sound coming from someone usually so curt and confined.
“What other useful skills did your mother teach you?” she asked.
“Most lessons came from Pop. You know, how to work the land, tend crops, hunt, fish, trap and tan, the usual work of a homestead. Ma’s lessons were about the sewing, cooking and the good work.”
“The good work?”
“Keeping up on our prayers and studies, how to treat our fellow man. How to treat a woman.”
Jess’s smile faded and she returned to her sewing, leaving him wondering what he’d said to upset her. He cleared his throat. “What about you? A person would think your father taught you how to shoot and use a whip, but I can imagine a feisty mother passing on those traits.”
She laughed sadly. “No. My mother didn’t teach me those things. That was all Papa. Mama was a jade, a genteel French lady who never stepped out of propriety. She was beautiful, demure and had the singing voice of an angel.” Jess looked at her sister. “Marlena inherited that talent.”
“Did you?” Val asked with surprise, smiling when the girl’s cheeks bloomed a bright red.
“So Jessie says,” Marlena answered. “I never knew Mother, so I have no way of knowing if it’s true she sang so well.”
Val felt his brow gather and Jess turned to him to answer. “Mother died bringing Marlena into the world, and it is true. She sang like an angel, and so does Marlena.”
“I’d be
honored to hear that voice, Marlena, if you’ve a mind to share it with me.”
Marlena took a deep breath and raised fearful eyes to him. “I haven’t sung for anyone but Jess and Papa, ever.”
“It’s up to you. Only if you feel comfortable.”
Jess reached over and squeezed the girl’s hand, who closed her eyes to gather nerve. She began to croon the words of Hard Times Come Again No More and the tiny room filled with a voice of such depth, richness and maturity Val nearly fell from his chair. Halfway through the first verse, her eyes opened and she gathered her sewing, piercing and pulling the needle as she belted out notes with calm and control.
There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away,
With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,
Oh! Hard times come again no more.
He caught the dip of Jess’s head and the sudden sheen in her eyes as she sewed and tapped her foot along with the tempo. When Marlena reached the chorus again, Val joined his voice to hers. Both females looked up at his clear tenor and the dimension his harmony added to the song, and he noted the happy surprise in Jess’s eyes.
‘Tis a song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days, you have lingered outside my cabin door.
Oh! Hard times come again no more.
The two singers finished the song together, and then laughter filled the air as Jessica applauded.
“That was beautiful, you two,” she said. “I feel like I ought to pay you for the performance. I had no idea you could sing, Val.”
He shrugged. “My folks loved music. They insisted Morgan and I learn an instrument but I never had the patience for it. I couldn’t sit still through the lessons. When it became known I had a natural vocal talent, they left the violin to Morgan, and I had more time to myself.”
They laughed again.
“Your life in Pennsylvania sounds idyllic,” Jess said. “You must miss it.”
He shook his head. “Not really. There’s something about the west that captures you. A raw beauty, a passion for living that reaches into your soul and implants itself. I never saw myself settling here, but now I can’t see myself wanting to be anywhere else.”
Jess hooked him with her gaze, and he lost himself in the depths of her eyes. By sheer will, he pulled his gaze from hers and nodded toward Marlena. “My talent pales in comparison to yours, though, Marlena. You truly have one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Have you considered studying music as a profession?”
Marlena’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes! I want to be like Sarah Jeanne, The Opera Queen.”
Val chuckled. “How do you know about her?”
“When we were in Denver, she came to sing and stayed for a month. I never saw her, just her posters and read about her in the papers. They say she has the most beautiful voice in the whole world, that when she sings the heavens open and angels appear.” Her gaze was lost in a dream. “That’s what I want people to say about me.”
“There’s no reason they won’t. If that’s really what you want, you ought to chase it.”
Jessica scowled at him. “Don’t put notions like that in her head, Val. In case you’ve forgotten why you’re here, we are in hiding. I don’t think drawing attention to her as a professional singer would do well for anonymity.”
“I’m not here to protect your ruse, Jessica. I’m here to protect your lives until you leave.”
Marlena sat up straighter. “Leave? What do you mean leave?”
Jess’s body slumped and she skewered him with a glare before turning to face her sister. “Something’s come up and we are in danger here. So, we’ll be leaving as soon as possible.”
“What’s happened?”
“I don’t want to worry you with the details.”
“I am going to worry without the details, so you might as well fill me in.”
“No. Just trust we’ll be gone within a fortnight, hopefully sooner.”
“But I don’t want to leave.” Distress marked Marlena’s features. “We’re just getting settled in. I don’t understand why…”
“You don’t need to understand why, Marlena,” Jess barked. “It’s for your protection. There’s nothing more to discuss. My mind is made up.”
Marlena’s mouth hung open for a few seconds as she frowned. When Jess refused to meet the girl’s gaze, she tossed her sewing onto the couch and stomped into the adjoining bedroom, slamming the door. Jess sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.
“I wish you would have kept your mouth shut, Val, and let me tell her in my own way.”
“I can’t seem to do anything right when it comes to you, can I?” he answered with the weight of guilt in his words. She stared at him until he sighed. “Look, I know you don’t enjoy my presence. You make it quite clear, repeatedly. I don’t want to cause tension in your home. I will try and work out some other arrangement for your protection as soon as I can. Until then, let us at least try to be friends?”
She sucked on her bottom lip, a war waging in her eyes. The vulnerability painted her in a different light, a human light, a feminine light. Without the hard exterior and the stoic set of her features, she became something real and fragile. Something beautiful.
The thought left his mouth without restraint. “My God, but you’re a beautiful woman.”
The violet hardened once again, and she scowled. “That is the sort of thing that will keep us from being friends.”
“What? My complimenting you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because men only compliment when they want something.”
“That’s a human trait, not a male one,” he said with a smirk. “Desire drives everything humans do. You sew because you want money. Marlena sings because she wants to share her talent and please others with it. It’s human nature, honey. Can’t pin it on us men.”
She sat forward, crumbling her sewing in her lap, and fixed him with a challenging gaze. “Then, let me ask you this. Why do you prick my temper so often? What desire are you trying to fulfill with that?”
Val laughed. “The desire to be entertained.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “And complimenting me?”
“That’s a double entendre. I compliment you because I want to see you smile. And I want to see you smile because I want to see something beautiful.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You think my smiles can be won that easily?” she said as she leaned back into the sofa. “I’m not a silly schoolgirl. I don’t put much stock in words.”
“Yes, you do,” he said, earning a quizzical brow from her. “If you didn’t put much stock in words, you wouldn’t use yours so forcefully, or effectively. No, I don’t think you are impervious to words. I think you are just well-practiced at frowning.”
Her lips pinched and she pointed her nose in the air. “I don’t frown too much. You smile too much.”
He laughed at the way she sucked in her cheeks to avoid smiling. The mirth was shining in her eyes, though, and he took the victory in this verbal sparring match. She said no more, but returned to her sewing. He followed suit and they worked in silence for half an hour before she spoke again.
“If you are still here tomorrow evening, I am having a dinner guest,” she said.
Val felt a lump in his swallow at the thought of her hosting a dinner guest. A male dinner guest? “Is that your way of asking me not to be here tomorrow evening?”
She looked up. “No, not at all. I’m simply alerting you. It’s Emily Stacy, Leonard’s daughter, and I’d rather she not know you’re staying with us, and more importantly, the why of it. While she is here, let us pretend I’ve invited you to dine with us. All right?”
“Do you think her father is sending her to spy on our interaction?”
“No. Leonard doesn’t know she
’s coming for dinner. He thinks she’s coming for a fitting. The poor girl is practically a prisoner in her home. A shame, for she is also invisible in it.”
Val chewed on the inside of his cheek. How much could an invisible person learn inside the home of Leonard Stacy?
Chapter 12
Jess smiled with the corner of her mouth as she listened to Val and Marlena heckle each other over a game of chess behind the counter. Val had not left the entire day and she was thankful for his presence. It proved a balm on the tension between her and Marlena, who still wasn’t talking to her. Val had kept the young girl occupied and helped Jess with the heavy lifting. She had already packed two trunks full of excess stock. Though there was plenty of inventory, the store already seemed bare to her, another space in her life shifting from full to empty.
It was past closing time, almost time to begin meal preparations, but Emily had not arrived yet so the doors remained unlocked. At the sound of the portal swinging open, she looked up, her ready smile fading as the seedy form of Emmanuel Boon stalked into the shop. The middle-aged, portly man removed his hat and smiled, puffing his ruddy cheeks until his eyes squinted.
“Aah, Miss Barbier,” he crooned in a voice practiced in salesmanship. “As always, your beauty makes the sun darken with envy.”
Jess folded her hands on top of the counter and sent the banker a cool gaze. “No, Mr. Boon.”
He stopped and studied her, nonplussed. “No, Miss Barbier?”
“Za answer ees no.”
He smiled, the fat of his neck rolling into sweat-soaked folds above his collar. “But I have offered no question.”
“It doesn’t matter. Vutever you’re here for, za answer ees no. If it’s tailoring you need, I’m too busy to help you. If it’s a loan, a mortgage or any other propozal you theenk vill tempt me, I’m not interested. Still.”
“Aah,” he drawled with a deep, belly laugh. “I see you are still piqued about my marriage proposal. You needn’t worry. I am not here on that account. I have already found myself a worthy bride. As to your other reference, I would have thought a woman with your solid head for business and figures would see the opportunity of paying a mortgage to the Westin Bank instead of gifting your cash to California with nothing in return. The Westin Bank can offer you a favorable interest rate, and at the end of the term, you will own this building. Can’t you see the benefit of this arrangement over your agreement with the Bank of California?”
Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2) Page 8
