An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  "Look, dear sister," he'd said with his most patient voice, "I'm old enough to keep my business as just that—mine."

  "Even when you bring your business to my doorstep," she'd fired back.

  "Ellie can stay elsewhere if that's a problem."

  "You know that's not what I mean." Charlotte seemed to grow contemplative. "What did you do to her, anyway? She actually thanked Jeanine for a cup of tea. I nearly fell off my chair."

  He'd laughed at that. "Maybe I did tame her a little. But most of it is Ellie simply growing up, I think, getting away from Spring and out from under her father's rule. Underneath all the pomposity and defensiveness, she's sorta sweet. You'll see."

  And with that, he'd thrown Charlotte off her nosey questions. He saw no point in discussing what he had in his bag since he was selling it anyway; and the deed represented a dream that might not manifest, so why make it seem as if it were already chiseled in stone.

  The land taxes needed to be paid, and the title to the deed would expire soon, and if he didn't get to Montana before the expiration, there was a real possibility squatters could take possession. All of it was making him nervous as a cat sitting by a rocking chair.

  Without the security of owning this piece of land, Thaddeus didn't know what he was going to do next. How else could he make a steady income? And why did that matter now more than ever?

  Oh, he knew why, if he was honest with himself. Light, sparkling eyes, golden hair, and a sweet bowed mouth were why.

  He lit up a cigarette, which he'd stopped doing around Ellie, and tried to enjoy it. But all he could think of was gunk in his lungs. Shit! She'd gone and ruined it for him. He put it out in the ashtray in the arm rest.

  After he left Boston far behind, he suspected he would feel better. When he got to Chicago—and he intended not to get off the train until then—he planned to stretch his legs and rest for a single night. He knew he'd find a first-class saloon, a hot bath, and a good barber with a sharp blade—most likely in that order, too. What he wasn't looking for was any female company.

  So, even though he found an excellent saloon with good food and cold beer, when he also discovered a bevy of beauties all eager to please for the price of one of his famed smiles and some good coin, he hastily declined.

  He thought, perhaps, it might be the first time he had ever spent the whole night alone in that famed city on the banks of Lake Michigan. Was he simply being picky? Because not a single woman stirred his blood or caught his fancy. Instead, he enjoyed the bath and the shave, he played a winning game of poker, and the next morning, he kept moving westward.

  He just wished he could shake the feeling that he was missing something. Travelling with Ellie had been a pain in the neck, but nice, too. Except for getting shot at more than usual. He ought to be relieved to be unburdened again, but he couldn't summon up the excitement for his old life.

  By the following week, Thaddeus looked out the window of a train pulling in to Butte, Montana territory, by way of Salt Lake City. At a livery yard, he bought a sprightly gray horse, thinking fondly of Lucky, who was somewhere in Burlington, on the Iowa side of the Mississippi.

  Feeling unsettlingly light on his new mount without Ellie sharing the saddle, he rode west toward Cable, ending up on a toll road to Granite. Cresting a steep hill, he pulled his horse up short.

  "Would you look at that?" he murmured, regarding the astonishing beauty of the area spread before him. His horse whinnied, and Thaddeus felt foolish for speaking aloud, but he sorely wished Ellie could see the huge pine forests spread out everywhere he looked, along with crystal clear lakes and enormous mountains.

  After a few seconds longer of sheer appreciation, Thaddeus rode down into a broad valley, covered in rich green grass. At any moment, a herd of bighorn sheep or whitetail deer was likely to spring across his path. And he kept his new rifle at the ready for mountain lions and bears.

  After a bobcat spooked his horse before turning tail and disappearing into the grasses, he thought of Ellie again. She wouldn't have liked the big cat. No, not one bit, but then, why was he always wondering what Ellie would think of this or that?

  Here, a man could breathe. Well, he could breathe in Spring City, Colorado, too, or in Boston, for that matter, with the crisp Atlantic air rustling the blond locks of a certain lovely lady. Damn it! He spurred his horse faster, trying to outrun his own thoughts.

  * * *

  She would go insane; she was certain of it. Eliza had to tell someone, but she couldn't. Who could she tell? Reed and Charlotte would no doubt force Thaddeus to marry her. Or would, if she weren't still married and if he could be located. She couldn't stomach the notion of a so-called shotgun wedding, but in her case, as an already reluctant wife, she didn't even have the luxury of that ignominious fate.

  On the one hand, as an unwed mother, her reputation, such as it was, would be shredded. On the other hand, as the wife of Jack Stoddard, the notorious gambler who was not the father of her child, she had no hope for any reputation at all except the blackest.

  And no one knew where Thaddeus was, anyway. He'd disappeared as quickly as the morning mist.

  When she had missed her monthly flow, she'd dismissed it as being due to the stressfulness of her current situation. Then she'd begun to feel a little queasy. Granted, she was living on a wharf, but the house didn't move at all, and she'd never suffered from an unsettled stomach before, not even on Stoddard's gambling boat.

  Charlotte had recently gone through similar symptoms, carrying her own baby, though now she'd eased into a time of looking healthy and feeling good. No, Eliza could deny it no longer: She was carrying Thaddeus's child.

  And that gave her a little thrill, along with a tremendous amount of terror and even shame. Jeanine looked knowingly at her one morning, and Ellie was sure the Frenchwoman knew. Of course, with no menstrual rags in the wash, it would become apparent.

  Heaven help her! At least her father wasn't alive to see it. He would be most disappointed. She had no idea what her mother would have thought.

  Her annulment was more important to her than ever, and mercifully, everything was moving along well in that regard. In a safe in his office, Reed kept the diamond ring, the size of which had made his eyebrows sweep toward his hairline.

  Surely, Jack would be happy to trade her his signature on a piece of paper and her freedom for that blasted ring. Reed had a meeting with a judge that very day, and if everything went smoothly, then he would send paperwork to Stoddard at his riverboat, persuading him to go along with the decision.

  Thaddeus sent no word as to his whereabouts. She had hoped for a letter but not expected one. She didn't care. She didn't need him. She could raise her baby all by herself. And if she moved to some godforsaken backwater where no one knew her, she could pretend to be a widow.

  Yes, the idea had some merit. There was something noble, not to mention sympathetic, in being a young widow. She couldn't go back to Spring City, unless she lied to the whole town. And that lie could easily be discovered if Charlotte happened to visit or, more probably, write to her friend Sarah Cuthins.

  All of a sudden, however, Eliza desperately wanted to go home more than anything. She wanted to see her lovely house and sit on her own porch, front or back. True, her father had died in that house, but she had many happy memories of living in it, too. And from her house, she could look toward the Sanborn homestead and think of all her adventures with Thaddeus.

  Yes, the more she considered, the more she longed for home, and sooner rather than later. She didn't want anyone telling her she couldn't travel after her condition started to show. She was already ever so slightly round at her waist and had to leave her fitted jackets unbuttoned. But soon, she knew, her skirt wouldn't do up unless she pushed it lower than normal.

  A few evenings later, she borrowed Jeanine's sewing kit and moved her buttons over on her waistbands so she could still fasten them.

  "I'm not hurrying you," Eliza said to Reed one night when they were all
taking coffee in the parlor after dinner. "I just wondered how my case is going. Is there any progress?"

  "The judge agreed that you were coerced into the marriage. He wants to see you in his chambers by the end of the week. I've also sent a notarized letter off to Mr. Stoddard, apprising him of the proceedings. Naturally, I mentioned a certain item that you have of his that you would return to him when you were no longer Mrs. Stoddard."

  Eliza clapped her hands. "I'm so relieved. I can go home soon, then."

  "At least a few weeks, still," Reed said.

  She felt her smile die.

  "Come, Miss Prentice," he added. "Our hospitality can't be so bad."

  "No," Eliza said, shaking her head. She looked at Charlotte, who'd entered the room after putting Emory, Thomas, and Lily to bed. "You two have been most gracious. I don't know how I can ever repay you. But I miss Spring City. Can you believe it?"

  Charlotte nodded. "I can. Even though I was happy when I left. I still recall the little things—Jessie's turkey pie and Dan's jokes. Mostly, I miss Sarah and Doc, and having people around me who've known me all my life."

  Reed was staring at her. He reached his hand over and took Charlotte's.

  "No, dear heart," she said with a smile. "I'm not sad. This part of my life is the best part, right now, having you and our children and more on the way."

  She blushed prettily, patting her stomach, and Eliza felt a rush of happiness for her childhood nemesis. How incredible to experience such joy for someone else! Where was that feeling coming from?

  "Charlotte, you have never looked prettier," Eliza said. "You used to have a fairly severe look on your face."

  She gasped at her own words and, utterly mortified, covered her mouth with her hand.

  However, Charlotte grinned and Reed laughed outright. "I remember that look. She tried to frighten me away with it."

  Eliza was glad Charlotte took no offense. "What I meant to say is that your life now obviously makes you happy, and I'm glad for you. I know I will feel quite content being home, even by myself."

  Charlotte seemed to stiffen. "Have either of you heard from my little brother?"

  Reed shook his head, but Eliza was puzzled. "Why would I have heard from him if you have not?"

  Charlotte glanced at Reed, then coughed. "I apologize, Eliza. I thought that you two, that is, Thaddeus seemed to... I mean, you and he. Oh dear. It's none of my business."

  "What my fumbling wife is trying to say, Miss Prentice, is that it seemed when you first arrived in Thaddeus's company, you and he had some kind of understanding. Given the way in which he was so concerned with your situation, it appeared that he had feelings for you, and vice versa."

  Eliza was sure her face was scarlet. Feelings for each other! If only they knew she was enceinte with Charlotte's niece or nephew.

  Charlotte jumped up from her place next to Reed and sat down next to Eliza on the other sofa, clasping her hand. "I'm so sorry, Eliza. I didn't mean to embarrass you. We'll say no more on the subject."

  Eliza nodded. "It's fine. I can see how it looked."

  She took a deep breath and chose her next words carefully, "In truth, I very much admire your brother. I know it seems he has no purpose other than his own wants, but he helped me when he had no reason to, risking his life in the process. He's brave and he's smart." And so handsome and strong, he made her entire body tingle when he gave her the sweetest of kisses.

  She sighed then sat up straighter because they were looking at her curiously. "There's nothing between us. Nothing binding, I mean. No declaration of anything more than friendship."

  How she wished there was! Thaddeus had made it clear, however, by rejecting her spontaneous words of love on the train and then leaving her in Boston, that he was not interested in a relationship with her. "He's not the type of person to settle down, I think."

  Reed smiled wryly. "He may, in time, be that person. He seemed changed already from a year ago. Don't you think, Charlotte?"

  "Mm." She was still focusing on Eliza's face.

  Eliza, for her part, felt the less scrutiny of her emotions and her person, the better. She yawned behind her hand. "I'm going to turn in."

  In her room, she paced. Could she really stay a few more weeks and have her condition go undiscovered? She would hate to lose the small amount of respect she'd garnered from Charlotte and Reed. She didn't even know why, but it mattered.

  * * *

  Four months into his venture, Thaddeus handed the deed to the land, as well as ownership of his mine, to his foreman, Tom Higgins. Behind Tom sat his wife, Alice, on a stool, peeling potatoes in the great wide open while keeping an eye on their two small children, who played in the grass. And Thaddeus knew he'd done the right thing.

  He'd spent weeks scoping out the land for which he'd paid a princely sum in back taxes, and then he'd hired men to build him a frontier house—all wood, no brick, with a stone fireplace and real glass windows.

  Opening a mine in the side of the mountain on the advice of a surveyor had yielded riches in the form of copper. He already had ten men employed and could foresee hiring more. Everything had happened so fast and gone as easily as a snake slithered into a hole in the ground. And all the while, Thaddeus kept getting more and more antsy, like he was away doing a job but needed to get home. Home! Where the hell was that?

  Then Tom showed up with his gently efficient wife and young kids. They were dressed in well-worn clothes that some might call rags, and Tom had asked for a job. He'd take any small amount of wages to help him keep his family in food and shelter. And Thaddeus realized when he woke up one morning that without what this man had, life here would be crap.

  No matter what Tom did—pounding a nail, working in the mine, felling trees to make a decent road—the man appeared satisfied at the end of each day to get back to the canvas tent he'd set up for his family in a sunny part of the valley.

  Meanwhile, Thaddeus's spacious lodging was complete, yet he felt less compulsion to settle into it than to continue on the nearby toll road and head somewhere else. What a screw-up he was! He was the proud owner of a copper mine, which was practically as good as a gold mine, and all he could think of was moving on. Or rather, heading back to Ellie.

  But he didn't. He stuck it out and he watched. He watched his men to determine who got on with whom. He fired one at the first sign of dishonesty, and he fired another for fighting. But Tom was steadfast, committed, and honest. He could read and do math, and he understood when Thaddeus needed to run ideas past him.

  "Tom, I've got something for you," Thaddeus said, walking over to the man he'd made his foreman. It only took a few minutes of looking over the papers for Tom to see what Thaddeus was proposing.

  "You can't be serious," Tom said, taking a step backward as if he'd been hit.

  "I am. It's yours, every damn bit. You can move your family into the house today. I hope Alice approves. It has room for all of you, but I didn't design it with a woman in mind, so I bet you'll be remodeling it before the month's out. Maybe build a bigger kitchen."

  He'd grown fond of Tom's level-headed wife and even more so of her incredible cooking. Alice cooked for all the men who worked the mine, and Thaddeus paid her handsomely for that.

  Tom shook his head, still disbelieving the good fortune that had fallen into his lap. He raised puzzled eyes to Thaddeus. "And what the tarnation are you going to do?"

  Thaddeus grinned. It was the first time he'd heard Tom swear. "I'm leaving."

  "Just like that? Come on, Thaddeus. I like to think we've become friends, as much as partners." He waggled the papers he was holding. "Tell me what you're up to?"

  Not one to talk to anyone about his affairs, either in business or in love, Thaddeus nearly brushed off the question. However, thinking of Tom's devotion to Alice, he had a feeling the man would understand.

  "This may sound plumb crazy, but I left behind someone, a lady, I mean, who I want to spend the rest of my life with."

  "That don't
sound crazy at all. Man can't live by copper alone."

  "I've learned that," Thaddeus agreed, "though some would say this lady is nothing but trouble. 'Course many people say that about me, too. But when we're together, everything feels right somehow, even though I've spent a long time believing I was the wrong man for her."

  He realized he'd started to talk to himself, maybe convincing himself that what he was about to do was a good choice. Tom looked at him with sharp eyes and a friendly smile, so Thaddeus added, "I don't think I'm gonna be happy without her, no matter where I live."

  He left on the horse he'd ridden in on with his one bag, his hat, and some smokes just in case he decided to risk having one. Easy as pie, which was how he'd always liked his life. But now he wanted more. A lot more. He wanted connections and complications. He wanted something to live for besides his own needs. He wanted Ellie.

  What had he been thinking, trying to put down roots with nothing to hold him to the land but profit? He could profit perfectly fine without living in Montana. He'd been struck by a bout of generosity where Tom and his family were concerned, but not by a fit of foolhardiness. In their agreement, he would receive 35 percent of the quarterly profits. With everyone wanting copper for wiring, he had a feeling he and Tom were going to be rich men.

  So why was it, after he sold his horse in Butte and bought his first-class ticket through to Boston, instead of contemplating his imminent wealth, he was thinking of an adorably difficult blue-eyed blonde?

  He couldn't wait to set eyes on her again—the train couldn't go fast enough, even though he knew Ellie would be hopping mad at how hastily he'd left and how long he'd stayed away. Yup, he was going to get an earful of her temper, so fierce his hair would blow back, and he couldn't wait.

  When he had told her he'd return, he'd meant it, though he'd had no timeframe in mind. He'd never worried much about the passage of time until now. Unexpectedly, it niggled at him that he'd stayed away too long. And of course, he'd plain forgotten to send Reed notice of his whereabouts. No one had ever needed to reach him before.