Until Tomorrow

by Rosanne Bittner

  “She the type that goes after money?”

  Cole poured himself another shot of whiskey. “No. But like any woman in her position, she wants security, respect.”

  “And she can’t get that if she’s with you?”

  Cole gave her another warning look. “I’m not going to explain all that. Just tell me what you think of Breckenridge seeing her.”

  Sassy folded her arms. “All right. I think he is a sonofabitch. He’s simply after a pretty, vulnerable young woman who he’d love to get into his bed. I know the man. Now maybe he wants the whole works this time—marriage and all. It’s possible. I guess you have to trust her to have enough brains to figure the man out, enough intelligence not to let things go too far. You have supposedly promised to stay out of her life, so I guess that’s what you should do.”

  Cole drank down the whiskey. “Maybe. That doesn’t mean I can’t still watch out for her in my own way.” He rose. “Thanks. And be quiet about this, will you?”

  Sassy looked up at him. “You know I will. You gonna’ take the job?”

  Cole thought a moment. A little voice told him to leave town like he’d promised but a stronger feeling overcame his better sense. Seeing Addy out socially with another man tore at his guts like fire. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m taking the job.”

  He turned and left, and Sassy shook her head chuckling to herself. “Well, well, well,” she murmured. “Cole Parker and Mrs. Addy Kane.” She had long ago stopped being surprised at what she discovered about people.

  Addy heard another explosion deep in the hills, and she looked up at the maze of mines and the hundreds of buildings that were spread out around them. It was almost nine o’clock. Cole would be meeting with Grant soon, if he intended to take the job offer. She was glad he’d been offered something that would mean he wouldn’t have to work deep in the mines, but worried about the problem it could mean for both of them if he chose to stay.

  She turned and kept walking, her heart pounding at the steep climb. She wondered when she would ever adjust to the high altitude and thin air here, but at least it looked as though it was going to be a pleasant day. She hardly needed the shawl she was wearing, which was surprising, since it had gotten quite cold last night. She wondered just how bad things would be come winter. She’d heard plenty of stories about how harsh the season could be in the mountains. She could not imagine how anyone got up and down Clear Creek Canyon in winter, and she supposed that no matter what happened, once winter arrived she’d have no choice but to stay here until spring. Would she have to spend the whole winter trying to avoid Cole?

  She kept walking toward Hester’s house, where the women were to gather and spend the day making signs for their march. She had decided to walk the several blocks to get there, even though it was quite a climb. She needed the air to clear her head, and she needed the exercise to help her wake up more. She had tossed and turned all night thinking about Cole, had not fallen asleep until the early morning hours and now felt achy and worn.

  This was all Cole’s fault. She didn’t need the man to continue following after her, nor did she need him to think he had any say in what other men she saw. It made her angry to consider that Cole Parker might think she would be swayed by Grant’s money and position, and it angered her even more that Cole might feel he had a say in who she chose to see socially. How was she ever going to forget him and get settled into her new surroundings and go on with her life if he continued to show up at every turn?

  The worst part was, every time she set eyes on the man she still felt a rush of desire that made her wonder if she was any different from the painted women against whom she would be marching in two days. Grant didn’t do that to her. Her own husband had not brought out so much desire.

  She walked faster, furious. If Cole Parker insisted on interfering with her emotions this way, then she would just be even stronger and more determined. He had played with her heart too often, stolen her most intimate feelings, invaded her most private places, then left her confused and alone. Perhaps it had all been simply to satisfy his male ego. The handsome bastard could have any woman he wanted, and he knew it! She reminded herself of what he was when she met him—an outlaw. Maybe he had plans of continuing that life after all, maybe to steal some of Grant’s gold. He was a worthless drifter who drank too much, and no matter how valid his reasons for turning to that desperate life, she must face those facts. She was never going to get involved with him intimately again, and she would make him realize that by seeing as much of Grant Breckenridge as she wanted, even if she didn’t like the man very much.

  “No more, Cole Parker,” she muttered, glancing up to see she was not far from Hester’s house now. “No more.”

  Still, here he was, in Central, considering working for the very man she would be seeing socially! She just wished she knew for sure what was going through his mind. Did he think she might fall into Grant’s bed as easily as she had fallen into bed with him? Did he hate her? Love her?

  And here he’d been hanging out at the Hard Luck Saloon! Sassy Dillon’s place. Had he slept with the woman? Maybe he’d told her about their affair, laughed with the woman about it. If he had, Sassy wouldn’t hesitate telling everyone she knew. Women like that didn’t care about discretion or honor. They surely didn’t understand that a woman could want a man, need to be with a man out of pure, aching loneliness, to be held, to feel like a woman again. Women like Sassy understood only sinful, wanton lust. If Sassy Dillon knew about her and Cole, the woman would probably shout out something about it when she saw her marching with the other women against prostitutes. If that happened, her dream of making a life for herself here would be ruined, and it would be Cole Parker’s fault!

  She noticed two women approaching on foot from another direction, and she walked over to greet Ethel Brown and Marianne Conrad, both of whom lived close enough to Hester Collingswood that they did not need a carriage to bring them there. She took a deep breath and put on a smile, dreading having to socialize with Ethel Brown again. Already she could see that scrutinizing look in the woman’s eyes as she came closer, huffing and puffing from forcing her hefty body to climb the one block it took to get here.

  “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into walking this, Marianne,” she heard the woman telling Mrs. Howley.

  “Oh, but the walk is good for you,” Marianne answered. She greeted Addy with a smile as they all met at the gate to Hester’s house, where several carriages sat tied. “Apparently just about everybody is here already,” Marianne added. “I hope that reporter for the Register was able to bring us some poster paper like he promised. We must get busy with our signs.”

  Addy thought how she would rather be preparing herself for her teaching job. She managed a pleasant greeting for Ethel, who only sniffed a “Good morning.” She looked Addy up and down. “My husband tells me he saw you out with Grant Breckenridge again last night,” she said.

  Addy was not sure how she meant the remark. Was the woman insinuating she was some kind of gold-digger after the richest single man in town? “Yes. Mr. Breckenridge offered to buy me dinner and show me around town a little more.”

  “Oh, how exciting for you,” Marianne put in.

  “Yes,” Ethel added with a hint of sarcasm. “You do look a little tired this morning, Mrs. Kane. How late were you out?”

  Addy bristled. “I was home quite early. I just had one of those nights when I couldn’t sleep because of so much on my mind. I will be so happy to begin teaching.”

  They stepped up onto Hester’s porch. “Is something worrying you?” Ethel asked.

  Addy met her eyes squarely. She hated the way the woman had of making her feel like some kind of criminal, when she had done nothing wrong … except tell no one about Cole Parker. “No,” she answered firmly. “It’s just very disconcerting for a woman alone to pick up and leave her past behind and come to a place where she knows no one, to teach for the first time and have to face people who do
n’t think a woman should be teaching. Right now I’d like to help you and the others with your campaign, so we had better go inside and get started.”

  Marianne turned and knocked at the door, and Addy kept her eyes on Ethel Brown, who nodded.

  “Yes, we have much to do today,” Ethel said. “I hope this march will help us rid Central of its soiled women.” She wondered if she should go ahead and tell Grant Breckenridge about how Alfred Rhodes was sure he’d heard this woman secretly meet a man in the dark after her reception. Who was that man? What was Mrs. Addy Kane hiding?

  Addy turned and went inside, and Ethel followed. I’ll know soon enough, she thought. Soon enough.

  “I thought we’d ride up to the Jackpot,” Grant told Cole. He moved off the boardwalk where he’d been waiting for Cole and mounted a sleek roan mare. He wore a suit that Cole thought was a little extravagant for riding up to the mines, but he supposed men like Breckenridge felt they always had to dress in a way that showed their importance.

  Show everyone you’re a big-time mine owner, he thought. He could not believe such things would impress someone as intelligent and level-headed as Addy, but then maybe there were things about her he didn’t understand after all. Surely she wouldn’t fall into the arms of another man as easily as she had fallen into his. He liked to think they had shared things neither of them could expect to ever share with anyone else. Maybe they didn’t belong together, but there was something special between them that couldn’t be changed.

  “Did you enjoy your evening with Mrs. Kane last night?” he asked aloud.

  Grant grinned. “Very much.”

  What the hell does that mean? Cole growled to himself.

  “Beautiful woman, isn’t she?” They headed out of town side by side.

  “She certainly is.”

  “And a widow.” Grant cast him a sidelong glance, his dark eyes glittering with what Cole considered flat-out evil. “You know what they say about widows.” He chuckled. “After a while they get to needing a man again.”

  Cole checked an urge to hit the man. “Maybe.”

  Grant puffed on a cigar he’d been smoking while he waited for Cole. “Mrs. Kane is not going to be an easy one. She’s pretty reserved, says she’s not in the mood for having to consider seeing anyone. She’s more interested in throwing herself into her work for now, but I’ll work on it. Hell, I might even ask her to marry me some day if she lets me keep seeing her and things work out. I’ve been alone myself for a long time now, although my son James will be coming here to live in a few weeks. How about you? Ever been married?”

  Cole felt the old pain, but it was soothed by learning that at least Grant apparently had not managed to impress Addy too deeply yet. Still, the man certainly had an edge—wealth, charm, good looks. He wondered if he should have a talk with Addy, tell her what he really knew about the man. He suspected that even if he was married, Grant Breckenridge was the kind of man who would continue to have his share of other women.

  “My wife died in childbirth several years ago,” he answered. “The baby died too,” he lied. He couldn’t bear to tell the man the truth. He relived it enough in his dreams, and that night of horror was not something he shared readily with anyone. But Addy … it had been so easy to tell Addy.

  “Sorry about that. No one serious since then?”

  Yeah. I’ve slept with the woman you ate dinner with last night, you bastard. “No. There was the war, then having to decide what to do with myself afterward. I’m not exactly the settling kind right now. I don’t have much to offer a woman.”

  Grant looked over at him, keeping the cigar in his teeth. “Well, you’re handsome enough to have any woman you want. I’ll bet the whores in town have been crawling all over you.”

  “I’ve had some offers,” Cole answered.

  Grant laughed. “You’d better get your share while you can. The cherished, pure women’s society of Central is planning a march in the streets in a couple of days, campaigning to get rid of Central’s soiled doves. If they get enough support, we men on the City Council will have to outlaw prostitution, which won’t make the miners very happy.”

  Nor you, Cole thought. “Seems to me like it would be pretty difficult to accomplish, with hundreds of single men working up in those mines. They could cause a riot.”

  Grant nodded and halted his horse. “Mrs. Kane will be in on the march. Do me a favor. Since you seem to like to hang out at the Hard Luck, try to be around that day, keep a watch on Mrs. Kane. Those miners can get pretty nasty when they want, especially if they’re drinking; and the whores can be pretty mean and foul-mouthed, too, especially Sassy Dillon.” He turned away and kicked his horse into motion again. “Or at least that’s what I’m told. I don’t generally associate with women like that. But there’s one thing I do know. If we outlaw prostitution, those women will find some way around it. They’ll sneak up to the mine shacks or something. The town council won’t really care, as long as they quit operating openly in the streets.”

  They rode away from town and headed up a steep roadway. “I’ll keep an eye on things,” Cole told the man.

  “The Register has been printing articles against prostitution. They’ll probably let the whole town know about the march, so it could turn into a real circus. We men on the City Council don’t intend to be there. Since we all own businesses in town that serve the miners, and some of us own the mines, we don’t want the miners to think we want to outlaw prostitution. We can claim we had to do so in order to answer the demands of the majority of those in town who are trying to civilize this place. The miners with families will understand. Their own wives might join in on the march.”

  “That could cause even more trouble, between husbands and wives,” Cole said. “Some of the married miners will probably support the single ones who feel it’s their right to have prostitutes close by.”

  Grant laughed. “Ought to be quite a show. This is an exciting place to live, isn’t it?”

  Cole looked at the surrounding mountains peppered with mines. At one time these mountains were covered with pine trees and aspen. There had been nothing here once but beauty, wildlife. “It is that,” he answered. “I’ll say one thing. A man can get attached to these mountains, the high country.” And the women brave enough to come here. Maybe he should just leave, go farther west, ride free … away from love, away from the responsibility of a job. It would be easy to fall back into his outlaw ways out here—wide open country with no law in most places. He could raid and rob his way through the southwest and go live like a king in Mexico—and leave Addy to her teaching, her rich suitor, her nice, normal, civilized, secure life.

  “I love it myself,” Grant was saying. “Coming up here to gold country, seeing what can be had with a pick and a shovel, makes a man a little heady. Haven’t you considered looking for gold?”

  “I’ve considered it.” Cole took a thin cigar from a shirt pocket, thinking how warm it was this morning after such a cold night. “Decided the only men who make money on gold are the ones like you who can buy up other peoples’ claims and can afford to mine the gold properly. Besides, it looks to me like the ground around here has been pretty well covered. These mountains look like a beehive, there are so many holes in them.”

  Grant broke into loud laughter. “You’re a smart man. By the way, I want you to demonstrate to me up at the mine that thing you say you can do with a beer mug. We’ll use a drinking cup. I want to see if you’re really as good as you say.”

  Cole put the cigar in his mouth and wrapped the reins around the pommel of his saddle while he lit it, letting Shadow amble on without guidance. “I don’t like shooting for show,” he answered.

  “Hell, man, there’s always a shooting contest at my miner’s picnic. I need to see how good you are so I can bet on you. It’s one thing to draw fast, but still another to hit your target. We have both pistol and rifle target contests.”

  “If I show you how good I am in front of al
l the miners, then they’ll know how good I am. Then all bets will be on me and there won’t be any odds for you to win with. In fact, I’d be willing to bet no other men would bother entering the contest.”

  Grant laughed even harder. “You’re an arrogant sonofabitch about it, aren’t you?”

  “No more arrogant than you are about your wealth.”

  Grant shook his head. “All right, I’ll take your word for it. I’d just better not lose any money on you at the picnic.”

  Cole kept the cigar between his teeth. “You won’t lose,” he answered. “Are we allowed to bring guests to this picnic?”

  “You mean a woman?”

  “I sure don’t mean another man.”

  Grant looked over at him, smiling. “Of course. A lot of the miners are married men, and they’ll have wives and kids with them. Bring whomever you want, as long a she isn’t some hurdy-gurdy girl who’s going to cause a stir among the wives.”

  Cole shrugged. “What other kind of women aren’t already taken? I suppose you’ll be bringing Mrs. Kane.”

  A look of warning came into Grant’s eyes. “If she accepts. Don’t tell me you were thinking of it. We have strict rules for our sole female schoolteacher, Cole. She shouldn’t be seen with homeless strangers. I don’t mean that as an insult, but, after all, we don’t know anything about you. That doesn’t matter for what I want you to do, but when it comes to seeing someone like Mrs. Kane socially, that’s another matter.”

  Cole smiled with a hint of bitterness. Knowing what he knew about Breckenridge, it ate at his guts to have to sit and listen to the man make himself out to be the town saint. “1 was only stating a fact about what you’d be doing. Believe me, I have no interest in someone as prim and proper as Mrs. Kane. I prefer my women with a little paint and a lot of breast.”

  Again Grant burst into laughter. “You do whatever you want as far as women. All I ask is that you guard my gold and supplies, and don’t embarrass me at the shooting contests.”