Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2)

by Belle, Sawyer

  “That won’t be necessary, Diggery. Thank you.” Jess felt the heat of the woman’s roving gaze. “Jessica won’t try anything. She wouldn’t want anything to happen to her sister. Run along and get our horses. We need to reach the rendezvous point by tomorrow morning so we’ll be riding all night.”

  Diggery hustled back down the road and Jess sank to her knees, unable to keep upright. “How did you find me?”

  Caroline paced back and forth as she spoke. “I’ve been tracking you for a year. I always seemed to be about three months behind you in every town. Colorado Springs. Denver. Salt Lake. You threw me when you up and turned French on me. I had to travel all the way from Salt Lake back to Denver, thinking the Frenchwoman was not my target. When my search led me straight back to Utah, I assumed you changed your identity and followed you here.

  “At first, I thought I had the wrong woman. I didn’t think you’d set up a shop and operate so publically. Figured you’d be hiding, but then it only made sense. You needed to make a living and you wouldn’t want to appear like you were in hiding. And your French seamstress bit painted quite a different portrait than the woman I was looking for. You were described to me as tempestuous, boyish and somewhat withdrawn and quiet. You played your part well because Collette was certainly none of that. Except…maybe a bit tempestuous.”

  Caroline laughed and Jess wanted to scratch her voice box from her throat.

  “I had almost given up on you and resumed my search until the night you confronted me and Val outside your shop. When you scolded him, your accent all but disappeared. A fact I found extremely interesting. So, I began to pay closer attention, and I began to have you followed, just to keep a log of your whereabouts. I didn’t want you disappearing out from under my nose. My partner took up a post as bartender at the saloon across from your shop, and we hired Diggery to be your tail, until I was sure who you were and where you’d be. Val figured it out on his own, though, didn’t he?”

  Jess said nothing, but she knew her eyes revealed it all.

  “That day I came to your shop for a fitting, I interrupted an argument between you two. When you took me back to the dressing room, I snuck out and overheard your voice, in perfect American. Still, I couldn’t arrest you and haul you a thousand miles south with just your voice as evidence. No, I needed to find these.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out Jess’s mother’s ivory comb and the golden pocket watch of her father.

  Jess gasped. “How?” Her eyes narrowed. “It was you who set my place on fire, wasn’t it?”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “No. That unfortunate and unplanned incident can be attributed to the idiocy of Diggery. You were down at the rodeo and we broke in to search your rooms. Your bedroom is dark as a tomb so we lit the lamp. Diggery pried the floorboard so hard he stumbled back and knocked over the lamp. I ran out to grab some dirt to douse the flames but the idiot emptied your water pitcher onto it. With lamp oil everywhere the flames spread like wildfire. We could have put them out, but we would have been discovered. So, we fled, but I had Diggery raise the alarm before the blaze could get too out of control.

  “When I finally felt it safe to venture out again, you were gone and no one knew where you went. I thought I’d lost you again, until I received a visit from Val last night and he told me you’d be here today.” Caroline laughed and shook her head woefully. “The poor man. What did you do to him? He couldn’t keep his mouth shut about you. I was more than content to listen, and now here you are.”

  Jess chewed on her bottom lip, unsure which she hated worse, that Val had gone to see Caroline last night or that he had spilled his guts to her. Diggery arrived with the horses and she forgot all other thoughts as she climbed into the saddle. Caroline held Jess’s reins, leading her horse out of town.

  “You haven’t said anything about the scar on my throat,” Jess said. “I noticed you looking at it.”

  “It’s difficult not to,” Caroline replied. “And now I understand the hats.”

  “Then, you must also understand it was given to me by the man I killed. It was self-defense, even if he was my husband.”

  There was a long pause before Caroline looked back over her shoulder. “I believe you, Jessica, and I likely would have done the same.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  “Because you’ve been accused and must stand trial. Believe me, that scar is your best defense. My job is not to condemn or acquit. It is simply to procure. There is nothing personal about this, Jessica. In fact, I quite like you. You’ve got spirit, but my life and future as a Pinkerton detective rely on this job. All of the real agents are helping the union fight a war and protect the president. My boss doesn’t have enough confidence in me to let me join. So, I’m cutting my teeth on this case, and I don’t intend to let him down.”

  Jess thought of all the times she saw Caroline acting the whore, allowing men to hang on her and fondle her.

  “You have certainly gone out of your way to prove your cover,” she said. “A whore?”

  Caroline laughed. “I never slept with anyone.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Not even Val.”

  “Juliet would never allow that.”

  “Juliet didn’t know, and neither did the men. I’d serve them a few drinks of whisky infected with a sleeping draught. They’d pass out, wake in the morning to my praising of their prowess, and they’d hand over their coin and head on their way.” She shook her head. “Men are so easily bought.”

  Though Jess was determined to hate her, she had to admire the woman’s courage, taking on a cover like that. Perhaps she wasn’t deserving of all Jess’s rage. “So, you and Val were never together?”

  “Never.”

  Jess swallowed. “Never even kissed?”

  Caroline turned in her saddle and flashed a bright smile. “Oh, we kissed. This job isn’t entirely without its perks.”

  Jess scowled. “Why did you make me think you’d been with him?”

  “Because I knew it boiled your temper. Angry people make foolish choices…like leaving town on foot instead of a carriage or abandoning their accent.”

  Jess shook her head in self-disgust, having fallen so easily into a trap. She thought back on every encounter, every detail that should have revealed Caroline’s ruse. “Why did Diggery stop following me?”

  “What?” Caroline asked, peering over at her.

  “A week before the rodeo, he disappeared. Why?”

  “Once I knew you weren’t planning on leaving town anymore, I didn’t need him to keep watch. It was costing me daily, so I let him return to his job in the mines. Besides, Val had hired Dalton to look after you. So, if I needed to know where you were, I just asked him under the guise of needing sewing. It worked perfectly until he had no idea where you’d gone after the fire.”

  Jess sighed. If she and Val had stayed down in the valley, Caroline might never have known where to find her, and a peaceful life could be had, but it was Jess’s drive to bring justice upon Stacy that brought them both back to Goldhill so soon. The thing she had thought most important proved to be her undoing. For the second time in her life, she was wrong in a damaging way.

  Val’s heart flipped when he saw Achilles in the stables. Though he’d known she was due in, seeing the evidence of it worked his body into a frenzy. Would she be pleased to see him? Would he be able to talk her out of visiting Stacy? He ran his hands through his dark hair, still damp from his afternoon soak in the springs. It was supper time, and he was anxious to sit at a table with Jess once again.

  He entered through the kitchen, sparing a smile for Ellie, but she didn’t return the gesture. Her features were so wound with worry he crossed the space in three steps and clutched her forearms.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Is it Jessica?”

  Ellie nodded. “She hasn’t come back.”

  Val frowned. “What do you mean she hasn’t come back? Achilles is here. I just saw him in the stables.”

  “She didn’t take
Achilles. She left just past noon on foot, saying she’d grab a coach in town. I know she said she hoped to stay at Stacy’s but she also said she’d be back for Achilles before nightfall. Maybe I’m overthinking it a bit, but I’m worried something’s happened to her, Val.”

  Painful gooseflesh pebbled his skin as he ran out of the kitchen without a word. He went to his room and grabbed a box of bullets and his second gun before rushing down the stairs and back through the kitchen.

  “What’ll you do, Val?” Ellie asked.

  “Whatever I have to,” he declared, feeling the truth of it in his bones, even if it meant the end of his life. If Leonard Stacy had damaged her in any way, the man would die tonight.

  Val ran to the stables and saddled Achilles. The stirrups, adjusted for Jessica, were too short, but he didn’t bother with them. He dug his heels into the gelding and raced up the hill and into the night. The swell of Main Street in Virginia City caused him little delay as he pounded through traffic to the sounds of startled citizens and protestant horses. Achilles never slowed, and Val was certain the animal sensed the danger and urgency.

  By the time the butler opened the door to pounding fists, Val had removed and cocked both pistols, ready to fire at the first provocation. The rigid old man stumbled backwards into the marble foyer at the hostile sight. Val wasted no time slamming the door behind him and calling out for the man of the house while he held the butler in place with the threat of death. The seconds dragged painfully without response.

  “Stacy!” Val bellowed again. “If I don’t see your face in ten seconds I’ll spill your hired man’s blood and come looking for you. One, two, three…”

  “I hear you, Mr. Kelly,” Stacy said coolly, emerging at the top of the stair case. “I’m sure the people in San Francisco can hear you. Might I ask what you are doing here, terrorizing my staff?”

  “Where is she?” Val demanded.

  Stacy steepled his hands in front of him as he slowly descended the stairs. “To whom are you referring, if you please?”

  Val gritted his teeth and turned his other pistol onto the millionaire, which stopped the man in mid-step. “Don’t play coy with me. I know she came here to see you. Where is she?”

  Stacy’s eyes narrowed. “You are trying my patience, Valentine Kelly. Either tell me who you seek or I shall have you dispatched where you stand.” He used a fingernail to clean beneath another. “And I would really hate to ruin my floors. That marble was imported from Italy. Took eight months to get here. Marble can be so porous, you know? Your blood would stain it and I’d have to replace the entire floor.”

  Val noticed two men, one on each wing of the second floor, aiming rifles at him. Next, he heard a gun cocked beside his ear and turned to find the stiff butler poised to take his life. Stacy was likely armed. His pockets were deep enough to house a derringer pistol or two. So be it. He was at peace with his death, if it meant saving Jessica, but he had to get her to safety first so he lowered his guns.

  “I’m looking for Collette Barbier,” he finally pronounced.

  Stacy tilted his head and smiled. “You mean the woman who means nothing to you?”

  Val bit the inside of his cheek. “Where is she?”

  “She’s not here,” he said. “Never was today. Although, I must admit, my curiosity is quite aroused as to why you’d think I have or want her. The woman has nothing I desire, and you already gave up your mine. What possible motive would I have for detaining her?”

  “I don’t believe you,” Val said. “I think she called you out on your little scam and you’ve done something with her.”

  Stacy’s forehead scrunched and he pursed his lips to the side. “What scam would that be?”

  “The con you’re pulling on Kant, Mason and Brandenburg. Siphoning their cash under the guise of a local rail prospect while using the funds to feed your own personal enterprise: the transcontinental railroad. You’ll bankrupt your competitors on a failed Virginia/Reno rail line, and reap the profits of a transnational rail system. The only problem is you’ve been found out.”

  Stacy’s demeanor turned cold and stiff as he made his way to Val. He reached out and brushed a roll of lint off of Val’s collar.

  “Tell me, Valentine. What was Collette hoping to gain by confronting me?”

  “To prevent your ownership of my mine,” he told Stacy. “She had no idea I’d already given it to you to protect her.”

  Stacy laughed. “Is that why you gave it to me? To protect a woman I had no interest in?”

  “You had enough interest to burn down her shop.”

  His laughter died and he studied Val. “I wouldn’t do something like that so idly. No, if I was to burn down her house, I would have done so with her inside. Burning down an empty building is a waste of good fire.”

  Val glared at the man. He was sick and sadistic and making no sense. “You threatened her in my presence. Don’t try to rewrite history, old man.”

  “I also told you I always get what I want,” Stacy said, peering into Val’s eyes. “And what I wanted were the funds to finance the first transcontinental railroad. When I realized I could use my competitors, I no longer cared about your mine. You and Collette Barbier were nothing more than a fleeting thought after that day. A sad irony you have brought yourselves to this position now after I let you go, isn’t it?”

  “Why did you take my mine from me and Sandy then?”

  Stacy laughed again. “If a person offers you immeasurable wealth, you don’t turn it down. You know, Valentine. It really is a shame you and your lady-love are so clever. Because now I shall have to find her so I can kill her, too.”

  Val’s heart thundered in his chest. Stacy had told the truth. Jess was not there and had never made it to the house. That prospect proved more daunting, for now Val had no idea what could have happened to her, and by the way Stacy and his men were closing in on him, he would never find out. He was about to die, and the woman he loved was missing.

  The realization clanged loudly in his consciousness. He loved her, and had failed her. Stacy raised his arm, brandishing a derringer, just as Val suspected. He pointed it between Val’s eyes, and in one swift movement, raised his arm and brought the gun down hard across Val’s temple. He crumpled to the ground, drifting in a soft, gray fog as voices echoed above him.

  “Shall I dig a grave out back?” someone asked.

  “No.” He heard the voice of Leonard Stacy. “We can’t kill him yet. I need to know who else he’s told about our plans. I don’t want any surprises.”

  Val felt his arms yanked behind his body before he was hoisted over a beefy shoulder. Inside his chest, his heart rejoiced. He was alive, and as long as he remained so, there was hope for escape and the quest to reclaim Jess. He succumbed to the blackness seducing him.

  Chapter 31

  Val had slept in enough barns and stables to know where he was being kept. The stiff straw beneath him stabbed into his backside. The pungent scent of livestock lingered in the air. He was bound in a seated position to a wooden beam, a dirty rag tied over his eyes and another around his mouth. Upon waking, he began working his wrists back and forth to loosen the ties, but they would not budge, even when the rope sawed through his skin and wetted the twine with his blood.

  When the steady creak of an opening door sounded, he went still, letting his head loll as if still unconscious. The footsteps were soft and deliberate. Whoever came was not supposed to be there, and was trying not to be discovered. He had to wonder if he was about to be slaughtered against the master’s will. The warmth of the body crowded his torso as it drew near, and he heard a low, metallic whisper. A knife pulling from its sheath. He took a deep breath and awaited his fate.

  After a small crunching noise, his wrists sprang free and he sat, motionless and dumbfounded, for a long minute before reaching up to remove his gag and blindfold. The timid form of Emily Stacy crouched beside him, eyes wide and bright as the moon, a panicked finger tapping her lips, warning him into silence
. He nodded and followed her to a stand.

  Achilles was in the stables, still saddled. Emily grabbed his reins and led him outside. Val ducked so his head was level with the horse’s back and walked beside his hind legs. Anyone watching from the house would see only Emily leading the horse. They walked down the hill until they rounded a corner which hid them from the house. Only then did Emily grip his arms frantically.

  “You must go and quickly,” she said. “Collette needs your help.”

  “Where is she? Does your father have her somewhere?”

  “No. She was taken at gunpoint earlier today. I saw from my bedroom window. Down by the mill, a man and a woman held her up and tied her wrists together. The three of them left on horseback heading south. If they are my father’s minions, I’ve never seen them before. I tried to leave the house to get help, but my father forbade it, and after what I heard in the foyer, you are both in real danger.”

  Val peered south, as if he could sense her distance, but Emily called his name urgently, pulling him back to the present.

  “Listen to me, Val. Once you find her, keep riding and never come back. If my father finds you, he’ll kill you both.” She held a gun out to him. “Here. It’s not yours, but it will fire bullets. I’ve refilled that canteen with fresh water. It should last you a few days.”

  He holstered the gun before grabbing her hands. “Come with me, Emily. Run away with me and Collette. You were brave enough to free me. Be brave enough to free yourself.”

  Her eyes began to shine. “I can’t. There is a guard who will check on you in the morning. I must distract him to give you time to get as far away as possible. Your greatest chance of success depends on my staying behind.” Her smile was sad. “Besides, this is where I belong. This is the life I know. Now, go!”

  Val reached out and hugged her, holding her frail form against him as if he could impart some of his strength to her. “I’ll never forget this or you, Emily. Thank you.”