by Jane Toombs
Marriage was a long way off, if ever. He was having too good a time coming into his own. He felt himself growing into a feeling of independence. Nobody really needed him, and he needed nobody. It was a wonderful feeling. He could look around and see what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Why, even if Selena should suddenly reappear in his life, he’d not be ready to marry her. It just wasn’t what he wanted.
Danny put his arm around Arabella, but he sighed. Marry Selena, no. But for all their airs and graces not a one of these lovely ladies ever made him feel as Selena had.
Barry Fitzpatrick pulled the tasseled cord, the curtains of the Louis XIV bed parted, and he greeted the morning sunlight with a frown. He wasn’t used to sleeping late.
Selena stirred beside him, opened her eyes, yawned, and sat up. “What time is it?” she asked.
“Must be getting on for seven.”
“Do you always get up so early? And go to bed so early?”
“On the trail you get used to living by the sun. It’s a mighty good habit and one I don’t want to lose.”
Selena yawned again. “In the city,” she said, “we hardly ever see the sun. At least I don’t.”
“It won’t take you long to get used to the change,” he told her.
Selena looked at him from the corners of her eyes but remained silent.
Barry put a pillow behind his back and sat up. I’ll tell her how I’m thinking of settling down, he thought. Thinking of staying here in San Francisco, of buying a house.
Selena fluffed a pillow and also sat up. I’ll wait until he leaves, she thought, pull the curtains and go back to sleep.
“The Committee of Vigilance has had second thoughts,” Barry said.
“About Rhynne’s escape?”
‘I was referring more to my part in that affair. They hired me to rid the city of W.W. Rhynne and, of course, I did it in less than a week’s time. With some assistance from circumstance, I’ll admit--I don’t mean to take all the credit.
I think Coleman’s just as glad they never hanged the man, guilty though he probably was. They’re beginning to realize the case against him wasn’t as airtight as they thought.”
“The city’s all abuzz about the escape from the Argonaut Selena said. “Everyone says Danny O’Lee was at the bottom of it, though no one knows for sure.”
“So with Coleman satisfied,” Barry went on, “and some of the more cautious members of the Committee happy there was no hanging to explain away, and with all the unhappiness with the state of law and order in San Francisco, a delegation of citizens approached me yesterday with a proposition.”
“They say Danny led ten men aboard the Argonaut” Selena said. “They were like pirates, brandishing pistols and cutlasses. They captured the guards after overturning the ship with gunpowder they stole before they set Charlie Sung’s warehouse afire. In the melee, Danny and his men freed W.W. and smuggled him aboard the Golden Arrow.”
“What the delegation suggested,” Barry said, “was that I run for sheriff. The election’s next month and they think with my record in the war, my experience as a Texas Ranger, and the fact I haven’t made anyone in San Francisco too unhappy, I’d win easily. They’re willing to finance the campaign, as a matter of fact.”
“Every night,” Selena said, “he’s seen with a different woman in Bidwell’s or the Bella Union or Pierre’s. He’s a good-looking man, Danny is. Not as good-looking as you, of course.”
“I think this is what I’ve been seeking all this time,” Barry said. “There’d be excitement and more than enough work to keep me busy. I’ve always liked taking a confused mess arid ordering it. As I did on the trail and in the army. As sheriff I’d be doing that and, more important, I’d be helping make this city a better place to live, I like San Francisco. I intend to settle down here.”
“He seems a completely different person from the man I knew in Hangtown.”
Barry looked at her. “Who are you talking about, Selena?” he asked.
“Dan O’Lee.”
“Is O’Lee all you can think about? I’ll wager you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”
“Yes, I have, Barry. You’ve been telling me you’re about to run for sheriff. I think it’s a wonderful idea. I believe in doing what you really want to do.” Her hand crept under the covers until she touched his leg.
“Selena? Now?”
Her hand caressed him.
“Now,” she said.
* * *
Wordsworth Rhynne looked at his face in the mirror nailed to the cabin wall. He was getting used to seeing himself without his mustache, perhaps he’d stay clean-shaven for a time. He wondered, though, if he’d ever get used to the pitching and tossing of the Golden Arrow.
A movement caught Rhynne’s eye. Looking up into the mirror he saw a woman watching him from the doorway. He stared in amazement, then spun around and stood up.
She smiled uncertainly and he remembered the first time he had seen her, years before in the Parker House when he had come to her room, surprising her as she had now surprised him. So much had changed since that day, and so little.
“Who are you?” he demanded, as she had demanded then.
Startled, she took a step back. Then, remembering their first meeting, her smile broadened.
“Pamela Buttle-Jones,” she said, her eyes challenging him, “At your service.”
“A lady doesn’t enter a gentleman’s room,” he said, “even aboard a ship.”
“Some of the leading citizens of San Francisco might scoff if they heard me called a lady. As for your being a gentleman, I’ll accept your own evaluation.”
“I was hoping to see you,” he said. “I have a confidential matter to discuss.”
“Go on.”
“I believe in being direct, Pamela. I propose to borrow five thousand dollars from you to begin a venture in Hawaii.”
“And your collateral?”
“My wits. Nothing more.”
“I agree.”
“You agree?”
“If you meet my conditions.”
“And they are?”
“I’ve disposed of all my laudanum, W.W. You’re to see I get no more. I may beg you and cajole you and threaten you. No matter what I may do or say, you’re not to give me any.”
“I accept the condition. Are there others? Interest perhaps?”
She crossed the small cabin, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. Rhynne held her to him, kissing her lingeringly, tenderly.
Pamela drew back. “You may consider the interest paid,” she said.
The ship plowed into a swell, making the timbers shudder and groan. His arms tightened about her. “It’s a long voyage,” Rhynne said, “and we don’t know what lies ahead. The dice are probably loaded and the cards stacked against us. Luck may have turned her back on me for good and all.”
“Your luck turned once, it can turn again and for the better this time.”
“I think perhaps it has, Pamela. When O’Lee pulled off that hatch cover, that was the start. And now you being here. Pamela, when I first looked in that mirror I was surprised by joy. I thought I beheld a phantom. And that’s what you are, a phantom of delight.”
“Even at the age of ... ahem, thirty-five?”
He smiled. “I’ll think so even if, perchance, you should one day turn thirty-six.”
“Ah, W.W., am I to have no secrets from you? I never intend to be thirty-six. I’ve decided to be thirty-five for the rest of my life.”
“You will be, Pamela, to me you will be.”
“And to think when I’m finally aboard a ship I’m off in the opposite direction from England, sailing on the wrong ocean.” She shook her head. “Do you know, W.W., I don’t even care? It’s not only that I wouldn’t fit in any more but that England no longer fits me. Good heavens, W.W., I believe I’ve become an American!”
He sketched a bow. “The pleasure is ours, Lady Pamela.”
The smile faded from her face
. “I have one other condition I’ve not mentioned yet.”
“And that is?”
“You must answer one question. Did you kill King Sutton? Answer me straight.”
“I swear to God I didn’t.”
“Do you know who did?”
He shook his head. “I suspect we’ll never know.”
Two months later the Golden Arrow sailed south and west from the Islands before a following wind on her port quarter. There had been a storm the day before and the seas still ran high.
Jed stood in the lee of the fo’c’sle. He respected the sea, its immensity, its great brooding loneliness. Here he was free, as free as a man ever becomes.
Reaching inside the top of his shirt he removed the small buckskin pouch tied around his neck, undid the thong and turned the pouch over. He took the ring that fell into his palm and slipped it onto the little finger of his right hand.
Holding his hand in front of him, he stared into the red depths of the fire opal.
The End
Jane Toombs books published by Books We Love and available from Amazon
Love's Odyssey
The Outlaws
The Californios
Thirteen West
Mountain Moonlight
Curse of Black Tor
Deception's Bride
Hallow House Omnibus
Creole Hearts
