Thomas met the man's eyes and wished he could fabricate a story believable enough to assuage Lord's concern but he could not. Being caught tipping a flask of whiskey to one's lips during business hours was not something he could easily explain—nor did he care to try.
"I am most distracted of late," he offered, shifting position uneasily. "My mind, I am afraid, has been elsewhere."
"This is a financial institution, Thomas, not a repository for broken hearts or dipsomaniacs. Unless you find some way to keep your amatory problems from affecting your performance here at the Mercantile, I will be forced to take harsher action." Lord paused, his watery blue eyes intent upon Thomas who was trying his best to appear concerned. "Your mother would be most shocked were I to terminate your employment, would she not?"
Thomas cleared his throat. "Yes, sir, she would be shocked indeed." But not as shocked as she would be were I to tell her about your dalliances with Mrs. Fitzgerald from Brookline.
Emily Addison had recovered from her ill-fated romance with Aaron Bennett and had embarked once again on the matrimonial merry-go-round. Thomas's own broken heart, however, was not proving so easily mended.
Lord's stern countenance softened as he rose from behind his enormous oak desk and rested a fatherly hand on Thomas's shoulder. "If you'd take a bit of advice from a veteran of the war between men and women, I'd advise you to take a long walk through the Common and toss that flask into the pond, then come back to work with a clear head and new dedication to the tasks at hand. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir, you do indeed."
"I expect to see you at your desk at precisely two p.m. Am I understood?"
"Quite."
Thomas mustered up his best subservient smile then, shaking his mentor's hand, he removed himself from both Lord's sanctum sanctorum and the bank itself before any of the curious clerks in the outer office could blurt out any impertinent questions.
Caroline's note was burning a hole inside his breast pocket but he withstood the urge to read it again until he reached the Commons. Settling beneath a spreading oak near the pond, he allowed himself the painful pleasure of unfolding the delicate blue letter paper and letting her scent of violets in the spring enfold him in an agony of remembered bliss. The honeyed blond of her hair...the delicate curve of her cheek...her eyes blue as the skies overhead...breasts round and full and so delectably, temptingly ripe—
Groaning, he closed his eyes and willed his body to return to a more normal state. What kind of man was he to let the woman of his dreams trek off to some godforsaken western hellhole of a town with only a backward Irish maid for company? He should have forbidden such outrageous behavior; called upon family loyalties and honor and the unspoken last wish of her father that the Bennett and Addison families merge.
Damnation! What he should have done was taken her the way he'd longed to take her from the first second he'd seen her standing in his mother's drawing room, all fire beneath the ice, saying how she had every intention of joining Aaron in Silver Spur the moment he sent for her.
No other man would have turned away from the open invitation in her eyes that day on the staircase in his mother's home. Oh, she'd voiced the normal maidenly concerns—"...it's not right, Thomas...I wish it could be different, Thomas..."—but they were nothing but a female smokescreen, a cover, for the same pounding, elemental lust burning through his veins. What he should have done was carry her off to his room and rip off her skirts and prove to her beyond all shadow of doubt that he was the man who could make her happy.
Now it was too late.
He looked at the note written in her elegant, unmistakable hand and felt the ugly poison of regret flood his entire being.
The opportunities are endless, she had written from St. Louis on her way west, and I have only just begun to explore the avenues of endeavor open to me...
A vision, hot and quick, of Caroline lying naked beneath some sweating, heaving, cowboy rose unbidden in his mind and for the first time in his life Thomas Addison wondered if he were capable of murder.
* * *
Two weekly stages came and went and still Caroline Reardon remained in Silver Spur. Reardon, however, made no mention of her leaving and Caroline welcomed the temporary cessation of hostilities between them. She dared not wonder if his change of heart was permanent but she intended to enjoy it for however long it lasted.
It was Monday morning of her fourth week in town. Caroline had spent a restless, uncomfortable night, drifting between sleep and wakefulness while her mind raced wildly along paths better left untraveled. But as the sun rose over the eastern sky, she found her fears disappearing with the darkness until only the bandage on her shoulder remained as mute testimony that all in Silver Spur was not as it should be.
She dressed carefully in a slate grey skirt and ivory shirtwaist whose puffed sleeves were full enough to allow for her bandaged shoulder. The slight stiffness made it difficult to dress her hair so she merely brushed it and tied it back with a ribbon as best she could, letting the blonde waves tumble down her back. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about the deep circles under her eyes and she hoped Abby would have the good sense to refrain from another discussion of her foolish decision to stay in Silver Spur.
Once downstairs in the kitchen, Caroline discovered that Abby had ideas of her own. She and the girls were clad in worn cotton frocks, their heads covered in frilly caps meant to protect their hair. Water heated on the woodburning stove and the smell of lye soap filled the air.
"What on earth—?" She stood in the doorway, her mouth agape. The kitchen had obviously been shamefully neglected for a long time, and since they had no cooking utensils and took their meals at Aunt Sally's, Caroline had chosen to concentrate her efforts on the public rooms.
Abby put down her wash rag and, wiping her hands on the sides of her brown skirt, turned to face Caroline. "'Twas many a cup of tea we brewed last night after you went up to bed, miss, tryin' to figure out a way to keep the Crazy Arrow and we be thinkin' we have the answer for you. We think—"
"Door was open," said a low-pitched female voice from behind Caroline. "Hope you don't mind me bargin' in on you."
Caroline spun around, expecting to see one of the prospectors' wives, and found herself looking at the notorious madam of the Golden Dragon.
"No, of course we don't mind," she said, reflexively smoothing back her hair and wishing she'd chosen a more flattering costume to wear that morning. "I am Caroline Bennett."
The black-haired woman nodded. "Call me Jade," she said, looking pointedly at Abby and the other girls then back at Caroline. "You got any place where we can talk private?"
"Of course," said Caroline. Struggling to compose herself—and ignore the curious looks from the others—she led the woman into the sparsely furnished room that had served as her father's office.
She felt horribly self-conscious as she took her seat behind the scarred oak desk. Jade was dressed in a gown of palest gold that made her look as delicate and finely-made as a piece of porcelain. Her beauty was so exotic, so mesmerizing, that Caroline felt raw-boned and homely in the woman's presence, a feeling that was quickly dispelled by Jade's wild-west language.
"I don't have time to waste," the tiny beauty said as she settled gracefully in a chair across from Caroline. "This is a tough town, Miss Bennett, and I'm here to tell you that you ain't gonna get money from any bank, no how." She leaned forward and her silky black hair drifted across one delicate shoulder. "These men ain't like your Eastern dandies. The only business women they'll accept is a woman who does most of her business on red satin sheets."
Caroline, who was intimately acquainted with those red satin sheets, knew her cheeks were as crimson as the ones that bore Jesse Reardon's monogram. "And what is the purpose of this warning?" she asked, struggling to retain her composure.
Jade smiled, exposing tiny perfect teeth. "I'll make a deal with you, Miss Bennett. Why should the men be the only ones to band together? We women
should band together, too, and fight them at their own game. Together we have two of the most important businesses in town."
Caroline blushed even redder. She was well aware of the importance of Jade's business to the men of Silver Spur, but the Crazy Arrow? From the layers of dust that covered everything, it was doubtful that a handful of men had even noticed it was no longer in business.
"There are other saloons in town," she said, watching the other woman carefully. "Why should the Crazy Arrow be so important?"
"Oh, honey, I don't mean the Crazy Arrow! Everybody knows it ain't worth a plug nickel. I'm talkin' about your daddy's mine."
Mine? What mine?
"What does the mine have to do with anything?" Caroline asked, praying Jade wouldn't realize she didn't know what in blazes she was talking about.
"Jesse." Jade gathered her embroidered silk shawl and reticule and stood up. "Now don't you go believin' any of the sweet talk you hear from that fast-talkin' devil. What he wants from a woman he gets from me for a price. What he wants from you—well, what he wants is your daddy's mine."
Aaron Bennett had owned a mine? That was preposterous! He had died with little more to his name than the clothes on his back and the sadly neglected Crazy Arrow. Certainly if he'd owned a mine, his financial picture would have been substantially rosier. Jade, however, quickly explained that the mine was worthless. "Everyone in Silver Spur knows it ain't worth a damn, but you're sittin' on a fortune in land."
"Land?" asked Caroline, clearly skeptical. "I am quite unfamiliar with the way of life out here, but land was the one thing I believed available in great abundance. Why would the property surrounding a worthless mine be of any value?"
The Oriental beauty's laugh ricocheted off the walls of the tiny office. "Gal, you got yourself a lot of learnin' to do if you're gonna make a go of it in Silver Spur! The railroad's set to come through there not too long from now and when it does, that land'll go sky high."
Caroline leaned forward eagerly. "And Reardon knows all about this?"
"Honey, Jesse Reardon may be a charmin' devil when he sets his mind to it, but at heart he's as connivin' as the rest of 'em. He won the Rayburn mine the day your daddy took that bullet."
"The same day Reardon claims he won the Crazy Arrow?"
"Honey, Jesse don't claim he won the Crazy Arrow, he did win the Crazy Arrow."
"I beg to differ with you, Miss Jade, but I have the deed to the saloon."
"Deeds don't mean nothin' at all 'round here."
Caroline slumped back in her seat in exasperation. "But a winning poker hand does?"
Jade's perfectly-formed mouth curved with a smile. "Now you get the picture, honey. It all depends who's lookin' at it."
"Then why did you come here?" she asked bluntly. "From what you've told me, I am in an impossible situation."
"Not if I help you, Miss Bennett. From what I heard, you ain't opening another saloon here and that's real sweet music to my ears. When the railroad comes through, I can be the busiest place within two hundred miles."
"That's wonderful, but—"
Jade raised an imperious hand. "But if Jesse owns the land, he ain't gonna sell and if he don't it means trouble for us both."
"I thought the mine was worthless. I thought—"
"He's out to rob you blind, missy, and the quicker you understand that, the better." Her cat-like eyes narrowed as she looked at Caroline. "Land is everything. You best remember that."
Caroline's face burned with shame. How she had flattered herself into thinking he had been interested in her face and form when all the time it was only figures in ledger that interested him.
"I don't know how to thank you," she said. "If you hadn't come over this way, he might have sold the mine out from under me and pocketed the money."
The lovely Oriental woman shrugged like a cowboy. "No thanks necessary," she said, heading for the door. "Just didn't want to see you gettin' your heart broke or your pocket picked by Jesse Reardon. Let him buy what he wants at the Golden Dragon—you just make sure you keep what belongs to you."
* * *
Too easy, a small voice whispered as Jade walked out the door. Bennett's daughter had simply looked at her with those big blue eyes and listened to everything Jade said as if it were the sermon on Sunday morning. The girl's daddy had been addle-brained but even he had understood that everything had its price; Caroline, however, didn't seem to understand.
Jade's heart thundered beneath her silk dress as she left the Crazy Arrow but she managed to keep a pleasant smile on her face. In all the years she'd known Jesse Reardon, she'd never once betrayed him and now here she was, selling him down the river to a gal still wet behind the ears. But if there was one thing she was sure about, it was that the Rayburn mine had to remain closed.
Jesse'd been talking a lot lately about getting him a crew and some hard rock miners. That was the last thing on earth she could let happen when she was so close to having everything she'd ever wanted.
Hidden deep within that abandoned mine was a stack of gold and silver she'd been accumulating since long before Aaron Bennett came to town and foolishly bought the tapped out mine from a shrewd businessman who knew a sucker when he saw one. Oh, Aaron had been filled with grandiose schemes about how he was going to make himself a fortune but Jade had known he was just a buckboard prospector scanning his belongings from the front seat.
He hadn't even been worth the energy it took to worry about his dreams one day coming true. Jade had enough to worry about with the stages getting harder and harder to hit without giving her identity away. The sun-crazed prospector guise could only last so long before the law became wise to it and she had felt she was coming to the end of that scheme even before Aaron Bennett came on the scene.
Jade's band of thieves were legendary; their exploits were touted in newspapers from Chicago to San Francisco and still not one of them had been apprehended.
Only Bennett had even come close to discovering the truth. Was it any wonder he'd had to die. There'd been no other way to handle it, no other way to make sure that when it was time to leave Silver Spur, she'd have enough money to give Jesse Reardon everything he ever wanted. Soon enough Caroline Bennett would figure it out, but by that time Jade and Jesse would be long gone and none of it would matter.
* * *
No sooner had Jade disappeared into the Golden Dragon across the street than Caroline set out to do battle with the conniving Mr. Reardon. She stormed through the kitchen and, ignoring Abby's questions, grabbed her wrap from the coat hook in the bar room and left.
The King of Hearts Saloon was at the opposite end of the sunbaked street. Anger burned so fiercely inside her that she scarcely noticed the heat rippling up from the dirt road as she made her way past the cowboys and prospectors and horses lounging around. Usually she paused to stare up at the huge bronze bell that held the place of honor in the center of town but today not even that huge, cracked symbol of freedom could divert her attention.
The crowd of whiskey-loving gamblers in the saloon itself failed to daunt her and, head held high, she strode past them and flung open the door to Reardon's office without so much as knocking first. Let him see how it felt to be caught off-guard at least once in his life...
"Mr. Reardon, I—" Once again Jesse Reardon had managed to get the upper hand in a situation without so much as moving a muscle. He was seated in a big brown leather chair, being attended to by two lovely redhaired women; one was trimming his shaggy sun-bleached hair while the other carefully wielded a straight edge razor along the strong curve of his jaw.
He was bare-chested; his tanned skin glistened as if he'd just bathed. Dear God, he looked for all the world like the replica of the statue of David she'd seen years ago at a museum in Boston, more male and beautiful than she could have imagined possible. He seemed to fill the room with the sheer force of his extraordinary physical presence and she gathered her wits about her with difficulty.
"I want to talk to you," C
aroline said, trying not to notice the thatch of dark curls that made their way across his abdomen and disappeared below his belt line.
Jesse grinned that lazy sardonic grin she'd come to know. "Later."
"Now!" Caroline stepped closer until she caught the scent of his skin mingled with the shaving soap. The two girls continued about their business as if she were invisible. It was quite galling and she longed to put them in their places.
"I'm busy," said Reardon, patting one of the girls on the derriere in a shockingly intimate manner. "Just don't have the time."
"Make time."
"Are all Boston ladies bossy like you?"
"Yes," she snapped, trying hard not to stare as he stood up and that magnificent torso of his came into full view. "And worse."
He snapped his fingers and the two women hurried away, taking the shaving paraphernalia with them. Such a display of raw male power was quite impressive and Caroline knew that if she weren't so furious, she would be scared out of her wits. Reardon grinned and reached for the box of cigars atop his desk and flipped the lid open.
"Don't suppose you'd care for one?"
"I do not find your attempt at humor very amusing, Mr. Reardon."
Still bare-chested, he sat on the edge of his desk and bit off the end of his cigar. "I don't find being barged in on very amusing, Miss Bennett." His imitation of a Boston accent was wickedly on target.
She ignored him. "I want to know about my father's mine."
Was she imagining the flicker of shock on his face?
"Where did you hear about that?"
"Jade."
He lit the cigar. "You can't believe everything Jade says, Car-o-line. Jade gets bored real easy and she likes to kick up a ruckus every now and again to see what happens."
"I believe her, and I want to know where that mine is."
Those dark midnight blue eyes of his traveled the length of her body, lingering over her hips, her breasts, making it hard for her to draw an even breath. He put the cigar down on the edge of his desk and walked toward her until he was so close she could feel the heat from his body, and remember the hard exciting feel of it pressed against hers beneath the stagecoach.
Midnight Lover Page 11
