Rush of Love

by Jennifer Conner

Her hand smoothed hair off his sweat drenched forehead. “I’m just happy you weren’t injured worse. It was just money.”

  “Just money?” Didn’t she understand?

  She sat on the edge of the bed and held the white enamel pan. That was when he saw the blood. She’d washed it off her face but it was still caked on the side of her head. A crimson stripe in front of her ear. He touched her. “You’re hurt.”

  She shook her head and started to stand. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. Sam lifted a long brown curl. He could see the cut in her scalp. “Did the doctor look at this?”

  “I just took a little knock on the head. I’m fine.” She offered him a spoon of liquid. He nearly gagged on the bitterness. “It’s for the pain. You’ll feel better with sleep.”

  Sam didn’t argue. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. His injuries, mixed with the laudanum, drained his strength. He slid down on the bed and closed his eyes against the world.

  A clink of porcelain and the sound of water being poured into the wash basin brought him out of a deep sleep. He blinked and tried to clear his eyes. Opal’s slender back arched forward as she ran water over her head to wash her hair. Sun steamed in through the window lighting auburn streaks in her wet hair. They were after him and she’d been hurt, he thought, tight-jawed. He should have protected her.

  Her eyes met his and her cheeks turned crimson. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  “I was watching you. You’re beautiful.” That was the god’s truth.

  Her cheeks turned a deeper pink as she squeezed the water from the strands of her hair.

  “How long was I asleep?’

  “Many hours.”

  “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday. You’ve been in and out of sleep for over three days.”

  “Tuesday?” He sat up and the sheet fell from his bare chest.

  “I had to take your shirt off to address your wounds. I was able to get most of the blood out of your shirt. It’s drying.” Opal tipped her head to the dressing screen in the corner of the room. When she looked back, her gaze traveled over his chest before it dropped away. “I had a friend bring up some soup. Do you think you can eat?”

  When he nodded, she took the bowl and sat on the edge of the bed. When she lifted the spoon to feed him, he shook his head.

  “I can feed myself,” Sam grumbled and took the bowl from her. His throat was parched, and the lukewarm broth tasted like heaven. He swirled the side of the spoon through the soup. “I know it’s hard for you to understand why earlier I was so upset.”

  “Of course you were upset,” Opal said. “It was a lot of money.”

  “It’s more than that. My brother, Theo, and I were orphaned. My parents were killed when they tried to cross a flooded river. Somehow we survived. Theo had to stay behind with our aunt and uncle in Missouri. It’s not a good situation, and they barely have money to take him on and feed him. There was no room for me. I jumped a boxcar and came west. In that time, I swore I would never feel hunger or fear like that again.”

  “My parents both died a few years back.”

  “Accident?”

  “My father went to Alaska. He abandoned me and my mother to ‘find gold.’

  “I take it he didn’t.”

  “He died in an avalanche. My mother passed a short time later from fever and I went to work at the bank.”

  “How could he leave the two of you behind?”

  Opal looked at him, her eyes a deep green and clear like a spring morning in a forest. “All men are taken by the fever for this gold.”

  He stood slowly with a groan and moved towards her. Sam cupped her face. “Not all men leave. That’s not right when you have a family.”

  “What about when you don’t have family?” she asked.

  He didn’t have an answer. Too much had happened in such a short time, so he did the only thing he was clear about. He’d wanted to kiss her since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  He moved slowly, wanting to give her enough time to turn away if she wished to do so. Opal didn’t move, merely waited, anticipation apparent in her eyes.

  Sam tipped his head towards hers, and their lips gently touched. A soft sigh was the only sound as his lips brushed hers. Her mouth was the sweetest thing he had ever touched or felt. He ran his tongue along the seam. He wanted to taste the vanilla he’d smelled earlier. He pulled her closer.

  This was a bad idea, but it felt so right. So good. Sam wanted her to be his, but most of his fortune was gone. What else did he have to offer her? He tried to push the thoughts aside and enjoy the moment. His hand wove through her damp hair. His head was swimming, but he knew it wasn’t from his injuries. It was the woman in his arms.

  Opal’s hand kneaded the bare flesh of his bicep making Sam draw in a quick breath. What was he thinking they were going to do? This was a respectable woman, but respectable thoughts were the last thing on his mind at the moment.

  His gaze swept over her heated cheeks and down her dress front. The thin worn fabric did nothing to hide her hardened nipples. Sam kissed her as his finger traced a delicate pattern over one breast. He waited for her protest, but she said nothing. When she emitted a small groan against his mouth, he was lost.

  Sam slanted his mouth and took the kiss deeper. Shifting his hand which still rested on the back of her head, he pulled her until her body fit against his. There was no hiding the fact that he was stiff as a rail, the length of him throbbed with each beat of his heart. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted Opal at this moment.

  He walked her back a few steps and they tumbled onto the bed making it protest under their combined weight. Sam brushed fingers down her neck as he kissed a trail to the edge of lace on her dress. With a thumb and forefinger he took the fabric and pulled it lower to take the tight bud between his lips. His teeth nipped, his tongue flicked, until the delicate flesh was a tight pebble. Opal let out a gasping little moan that sent a stab of desire through him.

  He raised his head to look in her eyes. She watched him; her breath came in rapid little pants.

  “I dreamt of you while I slept,” he admitted, nuzzling her neck.

  “You did?” she asked, her green eyes luminous in the dim light.

  “Yes, I did. I dreamed I made love to you,” Sam whispered, and gently took her mouth in another kiss. “I want you Opal. Stay with me. Here. Now.” He edged a hand under her skirt and up her stocking clad legs until he touched her silky thigh. Then higher. The sweet indent of her was damp with desire. For him. When he stroked her through her petticoat, a cry of shocked pleasure ripped from her throat. She came off the bed and clutched his shoulders as she shuddered her release.

  Damn. She was so responsive to his touch, it made every inch of him feel like a man.

  Sam rose on his knees and quickly began to roll her stockings off her legs. There would be time later to learn all the ways she liked to be touched, but now his body ached to be buried inside her. He’d been with a few girls back home, a quick tumble in the hay, but none who made him like he was now. Insane and desperate.

  None of them were Opal.

  He undid the ties down the front of her dress and spread the front. Her skin was so pale, he saw the veins beneath. Beautiful. He slipped a hand beneath her petticoat and curved his fingers over her breast. He loved the weight and amazing soft feel of it in his hands. He dropped his head to taste her again.

  There was a loud rap on the door and they both jumped a foot.

  “Don’t answer it,” he said, his voice husky even to his own ears.

  “We shouldn’t… I can’t…. I have to. Stop,” Opal stuttered, as her cheeks flushed. She wiggled out from under him, stood, and retied her dress. She reached for her shawl and wound it snug over her shoulders.

  Sam groaned, tipped his head back, and let a curse slip out toward the ceiling. He grabbed a wool blanket off the side of the bed and yanked it over his lap. He definitely wasn’t decent for mixed comp
any.

  A hunched old man filled the open doorway as she opened it. His graveled voice sounded like tree bark covered his vocal cords. “I just heard you lost your job at the bank. I need you out of this room by tonight.”

  “But Mr. Rason, I have nowhere to go.”

  Rason looked over Opal’s shoulder at him, and made a tsking noise of disproval. “Looks like you got a man. Have him take care of you. Another reason for you to be out. You know the house rules. I ain’t running a brothel here.”

  “He was hurt. I was only taking care of him. The doctor said he-”

  “Do I look like I care?” He cut her off. “Rules are rules. Out by tonight or I call the police.”

  Opal’s head dropped, she nodded and shut the door. She stood with her back to Sam, her hear hung in defeat.

  “You lost your job at the bank?” he asked.

  When she turned there was the shimmer of tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. She tipped her chin higher. “The doctor told me I had to keep a close eye on you. What else could I do?”

  “Opal.” He took a step closer, but she held up a hand.

  “Don’t give me pity. It was my decision. You owe me nothing.”

  “Things will work out. I’ll find more gold. Everything will be fine.”

  She forced a smile and his heart broke.

  “I guess you were right after all, money is the most important thing,” she said, her voice soft.

  “I’m going to go down the hall to the privy. When I get back, we can talk about what I can do to help.”

  Sam grabbed his shirt and coat off the screen and rushed out the door.

  He thought he heard her say, “There’s nothing you can.”

  She was wrong. He’d do something. He’d made the biggest mistake of his life being so cocky. He’d wanted that large roll of cash to flash around. Money makes the man. And now most of it was gone. Stupid.

  How did Opal fit into this plan of going back to Alaska and look for more gold? This was even more concrete in his mind now. He wasn’t ready for a wife. What could he give her? What about the big house overlooking the water? But what they’d just shared was special. Of course, he wanted to make love to her, but it was more than that.

  He splashed water over his face and peered into the fogged mirror over the basin. A bruise ringed his eye, and purple darkened his cheekbone. He’d first see how much money he’d left in the safe. It should have been around five… no eight thousand dollars. He would pay for Opal’s room until he traveled and returned again from Alaska. Caution would guide his decisions this time.

  She’d wait for him. She’d understand.

  Now that he had a plan there was a light spring in his step as he strode down the hall. He unfastened the latch and stepped through to her room.

  That’s odd. Sam opened his mouth to call he name, when he saw the wardrobe open and cleared of clothes.

  He swore.

  Opal was gone.

  Chapter 4

  A strand of Opal’s hair slipped free from the tightly woven bun. She blew the curl from her face and dipped her hands back in the near scalding water. The red, raw skin of her knuckles burned. She hissed air between her teeth. She would survive. Aldo, the kitchen’s head cook, said her hands would toughen up after a few weeks. It would be better

  Her work as a dishwasher at the Merchant Café was far from easy, but, she was grateful she’d found work. The owner gave her a room in the basement of the café for a dollar a week. At least it was dry, not too musty, and she only saw a few rats in the time she’d slept there.

  She didn’t know what she was thinking when she ran out on Sam. It had just all come to a head. She didn’t need any more mess on her plate. Her decision had nothing to do with his lack of money, and everything to do with what he’d said. He’d done everything but shake her by the shoulders to convince her he wasn’t ready to settle down.

  It was all for the best.

  She would not let her heart be crushed by a man who’d be off to the Klondike, as much as he couldn’t commit to any future with her, and that probably wouldn’t be the end of it. He would leave her behind, alone, again and again. At the moment she didn’t have ten pennies to her name, but she had her dignity. She wouldn’t hold out for empty promises, and pine for a man who may never return. Unlike her mother, she wouldn’t compete with a man’s lust for gold.

  Sam could have his gold, but he couldn’t have her.

  Memories of Sam’s blue eyes sparkling with life flashed through her mind. She loved the way they crinkled at the corners in tiny laugh lines. She wondered what he would look like as he grew older.

  The night he courted her and took her to dinner was magical. She’d hold the memories close to her heart. Dining in the main hall of the café with its carved bar and intricate tin ceiling, she’d felt like a queen. She would never guess in a week’s time, she’d be in the same café’s kitchen scouring dirty dishes.

  She closed her eyes, soaped another dish, and tried to piece together every word Sam said that night. What had the flowers he’d brought that night felt like? Smooth like satin of the ribbon she wore in her hair as a child. Opal had so few things which were hers alone. The flowers were special and had been left behind, trampled in the alley.

  A ruckus erupted on the other side of the kitchen. The cook waved his cleaver and yelled at a man, “Getta out!”

  Opal spun to face the noise. Her heart sank. “Sam?” she said, her voice barley a whisper.

  He strode to her and stopped a foot away. “We need to talk.” He glanced over his shoulder at the cook who burned him with a scathing look. Sam’s grey wool coat and black Stetson was mottled from rain. “Is there anywhere, quiet, we can go?”

  Opal steeled her back against the sink. “You need to leave. I… I can’t take a chance of losing this job too. I won’t get another chance. I’ll be out in the street.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.” He touched her hand. “All of this is my fault.”

  “Your fault? I don’t need your pity. I can handle things on my own.” She paused and put a hand to her hip. “I’m surprised you are still in town. I expected you’d be gone back to Alaska by now.”

  “I haven’t left. Things changed. That’s why we need to talk. Please, five minutes.”

  She tugged at her drenched apron to straighten it over her chest. She was sure she looked a fright, though Sam didn’t seem to notice.

  “Cinque minuti,” five minutes, Opal said in Italian to the cook and held up fingers. Aldo owed her a favor, his little boy took ill the day before and she’d done all the pre-preparation of the food for the evening rush. He waved her toward the back door and frowned at Sam.

  Hinges on the wood door creaked and stray cats scattered into the recessed darkened corners as Sam followed her into the alley.

  Opal turned on him. “Why did you come back?”

  “I told you,” there was a tone of exasperation in his voice, “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

  “If you haven’t gone to Alaska, where have you been?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “It feels like I’ve been a million places this past week, but half them were looking for you. It was like you vanished into thin air. I went to the bank, but they had no idea where you’d gone.”

  “I was told I couldn’t come back. They needed someone to rely on. Not someone like me.”

  “I asked the girls at the bank, and they said they didn’t understand why you were let go. You were one of their best employees. If I was a betting man, I would say it was that weasel Milard…Milton, whatever the hell his name was.”

  Opal felt a smile tug the corner of her mouth. “I’m not a betting woman, but I would say you are probably correct in that assumption. He is a weasel. You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

  “Not everything was stolen the night of the attack.” He braced a hand on the wall next to her. “I told you I had a bit of the money in the hotel safe. Around eight thousand dollar
s. I had the money in my hand and I got as far as the window to book my passage back to Alaska. All I could hear was your voice in my head.” His gaze rose to meet hers, the shadow of past memories clouded his eyes. “I won’t be poor again.”

  “I never asked you to be, and I definitely didn’t put any restrictions on what you should do.”

  “No, but in the short time I knew you, you showed me a few things. It planted a seed of doubt in me about my plan. I started thinking about what you said that money didn’t make the man.”

  “It doesn’t”

  “In this week, I had time to ask myself, how much money would it take to squelch that fever and make me happy? How much would I need to make myself feel rich? Ten thousand? A half a million?” He grasped her arm.