He opened his arms wide and moved toward her. "Like it or not, darlin', we're married and this is our weddin' night."
For all her womanly tears she was still the same hot-headed gal he'd first met that day the stage rolled into town and she ducked away from him and moved toward the window.
"Where's my white dress, Jesse Reardon? Where's the church with all the flowers?" She points to her bare left hand. "Married women have wedding rings, Jesse. Where's mine?"
"You had a ring." He was sure he remembered slipping a band on her finger that evening. "Where'd it go?"
"You fool! I can see how much attention you paid, no matter how much you claim this wedding meant to you. That ring belonged to Abby."
"So where is it?"
"Back where it belongs, on a chain around Abby's neck."
That flood of tears started up again and to Jesse's dismay, he found himself wanting to brush them away. Caroline Bennett was a strong woman—after all, what other woman would ever have stood up to a man like him? Hell, few enough men had that kind of gall.
Seeing her reduced to tears bothered him more than it had any business to. Her slender arms were wrapped around her chest and with her blue eyes wide and her delicate chin trembling, she made him almost wish things were different between them, that he could take her in his arms and offer her comfort—if he only knew how.
Turning, he rummaged through the top drawer of her nightstand until he found what he was looking for. "Here," he said, handing her a linen handkerchief. "Wipe your eyes."
Those eyes grew even wider as she accepted his offering. We're alike, you and me, gal. Always wanting what's just out of reach... What he wouldn't give to erase that look of uncertainty from her lovely face.
"Sit down." His voice was gruff. "Chicken's gettin' cold."
"Jesse?"
He looked over at her. It was the first time she'd called him by his Christian name.
"Thank you," she said.
He handed her a plate of chicken, then sat down on the edge of the bed with his own plate. "Just don't tell anybody, darlin'. I got me a reputation to consider."
Her mouth tilted in a gentle smile. "It's a promise."
And then she laughed softly and the sound lingered in his head long after it had faded from the air.
Chapter 15
He came to your room last night?" Abby looked both horrified and thrilled as she helped Caroline hang curtains in one of the third floor bedrooms.
"Yes," said Caroline, ducking her head as she threaded the frilly valance onto the curtain rod. She and her maid had been over this territory three times in the last hour and her story was sounding less believable with each telling. If only Abby's eyes weren't so sharp. Caroline had awakened early that morning, hoping to cart the tray of soiled dishes down to the kitchen before Abby saw them but the girl was already at the stove preparing breakfast and Caroline's secret was out.
"And he brought you food?" Abby asked, her hazel eyes dancing with excitement.
"Chicken with gravy and biscuits. Same menu as it was the last time I told you."
Abby sighed. "Your wedding supper."
"Do not make more of it than it was. We spoke only of business." And that was the truth for all else that had happened between them, had happened without words. Somehow last night they had stopped being enemies and had become if not allies, then something akin to it. He was a hard man, Jesse Reardon was, and not always a fair one and she wondered what it had cost him in the way of pride to show her the kindness he had showed her last night as they ate their wedding supper and pretended nothing had changed between them.
"Business today, miss, romance tomorrow ."
"You surprise me, Abby. I thought you believed Jesse was the devil incarnate."
"I did, but Sam Markham seems to hold him in the highest regard."
"Oh, he does, does he?" Caroline laughed despite herself. "Is it a romance we have here, Abigail O'Brien?"
The young maid blushed furiously but her gaze never left Caroline's. "No, it wouldn't be a romance but not for the want of tryin'. Sam is as dead-set against marryin' as any other man in Silver Spur these days." A sly look appeared in her hazel eyes. "Perhaps his boss should be havin' a talk with him about matrimony."
"Our marriage is to be kept secret, Abby. You wouldn't even know had we not needed you as a witness."
"Well, and I'd be thankin' you for the compliment, miss," Abby said, in a huff.
"I am serious, Abby. You must keep this to yourself or we'll find ourselves back in Boston."
"Secret weddin's, secret suppers...'tis getting so a body can't speak about anything around here."
"It's for our own good, Abby. Can you imagine how the girls would react if they discovered I got married last night? Why, think of the terrible things I've said about the institution!"
"Blarney, miss, if you don't mind me sayin' so. Why, the girls would—"
"Don't you see, Abby? The girls are the least of it. Your friend Mr. Markham has told you all about the Single Men's Protection League. Can you imagine how they would react if they found out he'd betrayed them? This entire town would turn against us."
"It would seem to me they wouldn't be so happy with us as it is."
Caroline reminded Abby of her failure to get Mr. Muldoon of the Free Man's Bank to even consider her for a loan. "It would get worse, Abby, believe me. I have finally come to realize that without Jesse to open doors, the Crazy Arrow does not stand a chance."
Abby's light brown brows arched skyward. "Jesse, is it? It seems we be makin' progress."
Caroline willed the telltale blush away. "Progress toward turning the Crazy Arrow into the finest hotel in Nevada, Abby, and nothing more."
"I don't believe you, miss."
Caroline turned away to hide her smile. "And I don't truly care what you believe, Abigail. Now earn your keep before I hire one of the Wilder sisters to take your place."
They worked until just before lunchtime and Caroline had to admit the third floor was looking as respectable as it could, considering the makeshift nature of the curtains and bedcovers. How wonderful it would be when she finally had the money to purchase the flower-patterned chintz she'd seen at the dry goods store and the blue-and-white wallpaper Doc Willoughby's wife said could be ordered from St. Louis and the—well, the list was as endless as it was expensive.
Abby went downstairs to help Margaret McGuigan prepare the midday meal while Caroline hurried to her room to change out of her dusty work dress and prepare to go out.
Before Jesse had left her room last night, he told her to speak to Mr. Mattingly at the Howell Bank about securing a loan to begin renovations on the Arrow. "I did not fare too well the last time," she'd said, reminding him of the refusal at the Free Man's Bank and the bullet that had nearly caused her serious injury. "Don't matter," Jesse said, downing a tumbler of whiskey. "That's all behind you."
She buttoned herself into a pale blue shirtwaist and smoothed her hair into a low chignon. "We'll see about that, Jesse Reardon," she said to her reflection. "We'll see about that right now."
* * *
"Had us a good night last night," Sam Markham said as Jesse finished tallying the receipts in his office at the King of Hearts Saloon that afternoon. "Too bad you weren't around to see it."
"Seems like you did real fine on your own," Jesse said, locking the money away in the day safe. "Ain't had this good a haul since before they closed down the Rayburn mine."
"Missed yourself some great fireworks last night."
Jesse didn't bat an eyelash. "Didn't miss anything, Sam."
"The hell you didn't. Didn't see you until the show was almost over."
"Couldn't've been much of a show if you spent your time lookin' to see who was watching it."
Sam sat down on the edge of the table near Jesse's desk. "I been told bartenders make pretty good listeners."
"I'll keep that in mind, Sam."
"'Fraid you got yourself a problem. She was over here
lookin' for you last night."
Jesse frowned. "Who was?"
Sam looked as uncomfortable as a horse with a burr under its tail. "Jade. She came by three times."
"What did you tell her?"
"Didn't tell her much of anything." His bartender laughed nervously. "Didn't know much of anything to tell."
"She have anything to say?"
"Just that she'd be gone visitin' for a day or two."
"Any place special?"
"Don't seem like my business to ask, Jesse."
Every now and again Jade up and hightailed it out of town for a handful of days, only to return with armfuls of new satin dresses and silk stockings made to turn a man's head. Used to be just thinking about watching Jade try on all those frilly things up in his room at the Golden Dragon would be enough to make his blood run hot and wild until he was rearing up like a stallion when the time finally came.
He made a point of looking at his pocket watch. "Luke and Big Red are comin' in any time now for their poker game."
Sam stood up. "You tellin' me you want me to go, Jesse?"
"Smart man, Sam. That's what I'm tellin' you."
The door to the office closed behind Sam and Jesse exhaled a long breath. So Jade was out of town, was she? Hellfire, he couldn't have asked for a better stroke of luck than that. He'd been wondering how he was going to manage two women without making an enemy of one and now he'd have a few more days to figure out a way to do it.
Leaning back in his chair, he propped his booted feet upon the scarred surface of his desk.
"Damnation," he muttered, scratching his head. How hard could it be? Even when Jade came back to town, there was no reason why there should be any problem. He and Jade were old friends who knew how to give each other pleasure without asking for anything more. What he had with Caroline wasn't anything but business. Just because they stood up before a judge and said a few words yesterday was no reason to think anything had changed between them. She was still as skittish as a colt when it came to men and he was too old and too smart to waste time on any professional spinster—
But, then, she wasn't a spinster any more, was she? Those few words said before Judge Fitzgerald yesterday had at least changed that. In the time it took to say, "I do," Caroline Bennett had turned into Caroline Reardon.
Into his wife.
"My wife," he said, trying out the feel of the words. What in hell was the matter with him that the sound of those words kind of tugged at something deep inside his chest? He wasn't the sentimental type—not by a long shot—and he sure had never spent any time thinking about setting up housekeeping with any filly, pretty or otherwise. He'd seen his own father destroyed by his faithless wife and he'd known how it felt to be turned out to grass by the woman who bore him with no more than a gold piece and a pat on the head for luck.
The way he was feeling made no sense at all.
Jade was simple; she gave as good as she got and played him fair.
Caroline was a lot of things but simple sure as hell wasn't one of them. She was smart and independent and stubborn but there was a real womanly side of her that he'd seen for the first time last night. He didn't think of himself as a man given to sentiment but there was something real affecting about the sight of that strong and beautiful woman awash in tears. Mostly he knew one way to deal with a woman's moods, and he'd felt awkward and helpless as he struggled to find a way to ease her pain.
Chicken with gravy and biscuits. What kind of poor excuse for a man would come up with such a fool idea? But, damned if she hadn't stopped her crying and smiled up at him, and they'd settled in for the strangest wedding supper in history.
She made him feel things he had no business feeling; just the sight of her big blue eyes wet with tears had called up a warmth and tenderness that shook him right down to his boots. The only time he could remember feeling so protective of another soul, it had been toward his brother Andrew, and he knew how that had ended up. Andrew, dead and buried, and Jesse wondering why in hell he'd ever opened his heart in the first place.
"Hellfire!" He swung his feet back down to the floor and stood up. He didn't need thoughts of Andrew or blue-eyed gals whose tears managed to crawl inside his heart. He knew what he wanted from life and it had nothing to do with domesticity or pleasures to be found anywhere but in a bottle and the arms of a willing woman.
He strapped on his gun and headed out to saddle up Diablo. With apologies to his wife and Sam Markham, he intended to ride until Diablo couldn't ride any more—and then he intended to get stinking drunk and worry about what was really important: re-opening the mine.
* * *
Who would have believed it? Jesse Reardon was a man of his word.
Caroline had marched into the Howell Bank, heart pounding nervously behind her breastbone, absolutely certain she was about to be turned away as she'd been turned away at the Free Man's Bank by the redoubtable Mr. Muldoon. However, not only was she not turned away, she was welcomed by the president, Mr. Mattingly, who showed her a seat, and poured her a cup of tea, and generally made Caroline feel as if the Crazy Arrow were the single most important item he had to deal with.
It was a revelation!
In the most businesslike manner she could muster up, Caroline outlined her plans for the former saloon, detailed her current list of both boarders and part-time workers, and offered the old Rayburn mine as collateral against the loan. To her everlasting amazement, Mr. Mattingly promised the money would be hers by week's end.
And she had Jesse Reardon to thank for it.
Not that Mr. Mattingly had said anything to that effect, but Caroline had been in Silver Spur long enough to know that little of consequence happened in that town without Jesse Reardon's consent. This was no exception.
She fairly floated back to the Crazy Arrow, her imagination soaring with excitement over the wonders made possible through Mr. Mattingly's largesse, She hugged Abby, three of the McGuigan sisters and both of the Wilder girls, then announced that tonight—frugality, be damned!—they would be eating steak and potatoes.
At a little before ten the last of the boarders went upstairs to bed followed soon after by a yawning Abby. Caroline, however, was too filled with excitement to consider retiring for the night so she brought out her basket of mending and set to work repairing the side seam of a pale mint green summer dress of hers that had seen better days. She sat in a rocking chair in the kitchen, with a gas lamp angled over her shoulder, bathing the material in a soft yellow glow. The needle glittered as it passed through the layers of mint green muslin and she took pleasure in the small, evenly spaced stitches as she worked her way down the long curved seam. The smell of hot coffee and fresh apple pie still lingered in the warm air of the kitchen and she wished Jesse would come home so she could offer him some to thank him for opening a door that she'd been unable to budge.
Finally, close to midnight, she was ready to put away her mending and retire to her room when she heard the sound of his spurs jingling in the front hall and she hurried out to see him.
"Jesse?"
He stopped, about to mount the stairs for the second floor. "Up late, aren't you, Car-o-line?"
The hallway was dark, making it hard to discern the expression on his face and she found herself swallowing hard against a sudden bout of nervousness. "I—I was waiting to talk to you."
"Can it wait? I got myself a real need to sleep tonight, darlin'."
He started up the staircase and she reached over and placed her hand on his arm. "Please, Jesse," she said, his name soft sibilance against her tongue. "I want to thank you."
He stopped and looked down at her. "Ain't a reason that I know of."
"The Howell Bank. Mr. Mattingly was most cooperative and I...I want to thank you for making it possible."
His expression didn't change.
"Did you hear me?" Her voice grew sharp. "Thank you for paving the way for me."
"Sorry, Car-o-line. Don't mind takin' credit for things but this time
I didn't do a damn thing to deserve it."
"You must have, for I could not make any headway at all with Mr. Muldoon at the Free Man's Bank while Mr. Mattingly was most eager to serve."
"Must be your pretty smile," he drawled, but she caught the hint of a smile of his own.
"I do not think so. You said you would help me and you have. I am most grateful."
"Save your gratitude, Car-o-line. Sooner we get what we want from each other, the sooner we can call this marriage off."
Stung, she looked to lash out at him. "That day cannot come soon enough for me, Mr. Reardon."
"Mr. Reardon, is it again?" He laughed. "Last night you called me Jesse."
"Last night I was under the influence of rum. Tonight I am not."
He stepped down to where she stood yet he still towered over her. "I think I liked you better last night."
"And I think we should say goodnight."
She tried to move away but he blocked her path. "Not yet. We got us something to talk about."
"It's late, Mr. Reardon. Anything you have to say can wait until morning."
"I'm going out to the mine tomorrow. Come with me. I'll show you what I got planned."
"Will you take a trap?"
"Sorry, darlin'. We been over that territory before. I'm ridin' Diablo."
She thought of the emotions unleashed as she rode with him on Diablo. "Thank you, but I think not."
"Like I said last time, I got me a little filly you might like to ride."
"And as I said last time, in Boston I rode sidesaddle, not astride."
"Darlin', I thought you finally understood this ain't Boston. If you're going to be runnin' things around here, it's high time you learned how to get around on your own."
Of course, she understood exactly what he was telling her: she couldn't expect to rely on him for everything. When it came to daily life, she was truly on her own. "You may be right."
"I know I'm right. Come out to the mine with me tomorrow and I'll give you your first lesson."
"Around noon?"
"I was thinkin' more like daybreak."
"I have breakfast to prepare for my boarders. I couldn't possibly get free until nine."
Midnight Lover Page 20
