Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) Page 3

  Lim Sung couldn’t hug her in public, but he did lean in close to whisper, “We love you!”

  Overcome, Katie blushed as she served the cake. She felt very warm... and out of place, somehow. This party, and the emotions that appeared to be behind it, were more than she deserved. She didn’t know how to behave. What did all these people expect of her? Should she have wept with joy?

  “Darlin’, why don’t you take a piece of cake to Jack?” Brian murmured, leaning across the bar. His breath smelled of celebratory whiskey. “Ask him to join the party. After all, he had a hand in the success of your surprise!”

  Puzzled, she met her father’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Jack had to lure you over here without arousing your suspicions.” Brian chuckled at the memory. “When we asked him, he assured us that you were already irritated by his presence, and that he was quite sure he could keep you too annoyed to suspect that he might be delivering you to a party in your honor.”

  Katie lifted her chin, staring across the saloon to where Jack Adams reclined on a chair, apparently dozing. “That man really is insufferable.”

  “Because he speaks his mind?” Brian teased. “You’re used to that; the men around here don’t waste time with manners. I think that Jack’s found your sore spot because he doesn’t back off from you. You can’t outtalk him and put him in his place.”

  She smiled grudgingly. “I shudder to think where his ‘place’ really ought to be.”

  “Kathleen, don’t be unkind. Take the man a piece of cake and try to remember that he’s our guest.”

  Secretly glad for the respite from her party, she accepted the place. Across the crowded, noisy room, Jack appeared oblivious, slouched in his chair, bronzed hands folded against his white shirtfront. His strong body was graceful in repose, legs stretched out and head tipped to one side. As Katie drew nearer, studying his face, she began to suspect that his eyes were open just a fraction....

  “Missing me so soon?” he asked softly, moving only his lips.

  Now Katie could see that Jack was watching her from beneath his lashes. “Papa insisted that I bring you a piece of cake.” Her tone was cool as she set the plate before him. “Has he overestimated the extent of your domestication, Mr. Adams? Perhaps you’re not yet able to sit up straight and use a fork.”

  He arched one eyebrow and grinned slowly in appreciation. “I never could resist a challenge,” he replied, stretching and shifting upward on the chair.

  She watched him take a bite of cake. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to overtax yourself on my account, sir....”

  “I should remind you that I spent last night digging for gold in a field of grain. I’m too tired right now to match wits with you.”

  “Oh, dear, that’s right!” Katie exclaimed, remembering. “Where’s Missouri Dan?”

  “He’s gone to bed, which is what I would have done if—” He broke off and stifled a yawn.

  “If you hadn’t been persuaded to lure me here for my birthday party,” she finished for him, watching as he stood up beside her. She found herself trailing after him toward the doorway while all around them groups of miners loudly discussed the Griffin’s latest stage robbery. Katie scarcely heard, though, more intent on catching Jack’s sleeve before he exited the saloon. “Why, after you went to so much trouble, didn’t you join in the party? You were welcome to join the guests—”

  He turned to look down at her, one hand on the door, and smiled lazily. Unaccountably, Katie felt a disconcerting shiver race from her scalp to the base of her spine.

  “No,” he said softly, “I couldn’t join in the party because I didn’t have a present. At least... not one I could give you in front of your friends and neighbors.” His gaze dropped to her parted lips. “I suppose I could give it to you now—but you’d have to come outside with me.”

  Heart racing, Katie stepped backward and swallowed hard. Instinctively, she pressed her hands against her flushed cheeks, then quickly removed them when she saw Jack’s knowing smile. “No. No, I’d rather not.”

  “Well, then, I’ll just keep it for you, Miss MacKenzie, and you can tell me when you’d like to collect.” Halfway out the door, he glanced back over one straight shoulder. “Good night, Kathleen. I’m glad you were surprised on your birthday.”

  She was too confused to be angry—yet—or to be sure what he had meant by his parting remark. Dazedly, she could only whisper, “Good night,” but Jack Adams had already gone.

  Chapter 3

  June 24, 1864

  “Do you suppose Jack really went to look at a claim?” Katie wondered aloud. She was cleaning the surface of the saloon’s mahogany bar with a vengeance, rubbing so hard with her soft white cloth that Brian worried she’d strip the varnish.

  He looked up now from refilling the liquor bottles. “What else would the man be doing?”

  “Well, he said it was just a few miles east, and he’s been away a day and a half!”

  “Good Lord, child, are you complaining? I thought you couldn’t stand Jack Adams!”

  “I can’t.” Katie rubbed harder, staring at a barely visible stain. Although it was only nine in the morning, the saloon was already stiflingly warm, and damp tendrils had escaped her braid and were curling about her face. “I just wonder what he’s up to. I don’t trust the man.”

  Brian laughed. “Oh, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if Jack’s indulging in something more pleasurable than just investigatin’ a claim. Women fancy men like him, and men like him fancy women! Betsy Cartwright over in Shaw’s Flat was widowed last autumn, remember? She’s a handsome young woman, and it seems to me that—”

  “Shaw’s Flat is south of here, Papa,” Katie interrupted, her voice rising.

  “Oh, I don’t imagine that Jack would mind ridin’ a few miles out of his way for a beautiful woman....”

  “Truer words were never spoken, MacKenzie!” A husky voice laughed softly from the doorway.

  Katie froze in the act of pushing wisps of hair off her moist forehead. Slowly she lifted her head and beheld Jack Adams casually entering the saloon. Unlike normal mortals on a crushingly humid day, he appeared freshly bathed and unaffected by the heat, his hair brushed back from a tanned, engagingly attractive face. His boots were shined, and his faded red shirt and blue dungarees looked as if they had just come from Sung’s Laundry. Katie, on the other hand, was certain that she was the picture of dishevelment.

  “Darlin’, don’t just stand there gaping!” Brian boomed happily. “Get the man some coffee!”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks. “I—I was just wondering if Mr. Adams always returns from his trips at such an odd hour, and how he has managed to look so immaculate.”

  Jack smiled at her as if he could read her mind, took a stool at the bar, and accepted the mug of coffee Katie placed before him. “I was up early and didn’t have far to ride. And, as a matter of fact, I stopped at home for a bath before walking over here.”

  “Home?” she echoed.

  His eyes twinkled. “Well, it feels like home, thanks to the warm hospitality bestowed upon me by you and your father.”

  Only Katie seemed to be aware of the irony in his voice. Brian, on the other hand, appeared on the verge of offering to adopt Jack. Reaching across the bar, he patted the younger man’s shoulder with hearty affection. “We couldn’t ask for a better houseguest, could we, Katie love? You’re a pleasure, Jack, and we’ve missed you since yesterday mornin’. Why, just before you came in, Katie was saying—”

  “I was saying that you had been rather mysterious about your errand away from Columbia!” she interjected hastily. “If we hear that the Griffin has been active again, I might begin to suspect you, Mr. Adams!”

  “Indeed? Why, Miss MacKenzie, I’m flattered! Knowing the exalted opinion you have of the Griffin, I consider it an honor that you could imagine I could be so fine and brave a hero....”

  Brian looked at his smoldering daughter in confusion. “What’s all this? Have you roma
nced the notion of that outlaw, Katie? You’d do well to remember that men like Robin Hood are only in books. And if you do harbor any sympathy for the Griffin, keep quiet about it. Harold Van Hosten is in here almost daily, and it wouldn’t be good for my health if he thought my own daughter was out singin’ the praises of the highwayman who’s been humiliating him and Aaron Rush for nearly a year!”

  She glared at Jack. “I think this is just Mr. Adams’s misguided attempt at humor, Papa.”

  “Hmph. Take my advice, both of you, and choose another subject for your taunts. The Griffin’s dangerous sport.”

  Jack drained his coffee and set down the mug with a dull thud. “Believe me, MacKenzie, there’s nothing I’d rather discuss less! As a matter of fact, I have an ideal distraction in mind.” He leaned closer. “I’ve thought of a plan to improve business here at the saloon.”

  “This should be fascinating,” Katie muttered, returning to her polishing but staying within earshot.

  “Where are your manners?” Brian exclaimed. “Hear the man out.”

  A smile brightened Jack’s countenance. “This notion is so obvious that I’m sure you’ve thought of it yourself, but were unable to find the right person for the job. You see, MacKenzie, what this saloon needs is a female to serve the patrons. A pretty, friendly girl whom the miners could look upon as a friend, yet who would also provide a welcome respite from the other men they toil, beside all day long in the mines. I was thinking—”

  “Mr. Adams,” Katie interrupted, “this saloon is not a hurdy-gurdy house or a dance hall. Those are the only places that use women to lure unsuspecting men for the purpose of getting them to pay outrageous prices for their drinks. I am shocked that you would propose something so... so base to my father!”

  Jack replied evenly, “I wouldn’t consider proposing anything even remotely base to a respectable man like your father, nor am I suggesting that this saloon become a hurdy-gurdy house or a dance hall.” He looked at Brian. “The men are already used to seeing Miss MacKenzie working here, so it’s not as if women are forbidden in your saloon. It simply makes sense to me that it might improve business in these less-than-prosperous times if one of your employees was a pretty girl who enjoyed dressing accordingly and being friendly to the lonely, unmarried men of this town.”

  Katie seethed, more conscious than ever of her plain braid and modest, faded dress. She was further outraged to hear Brian reply, “Well, what you say makes sense to me, too, Jack. But I wouldn’t want someone of questionable character, if you take my meaning, and I couldn’t pay as much as the girls make at some of the less respectable places here in Columbia. Who’d want the job?”

  Jack was on his feet in an instant, grinning broadly. “I was hoping you’d ask me that! Wait just a moment.”

  As he hurried outside, Katie whirled on her father. “Have you taken leave of your senses? How could you encourage such an immoral scheme?”

  “Settle down, girl. Let’s hear the lad out.”

  “Lad?! Papa, you mustn’t be swayed by that devil’s charm! He’s up to no good, I just know it!”

  “Nonsense.” Brian waved her off with a chuckle. “I’m a pretty fair judge of character after all these years. Jack just enjoys life—and, in turn, people enjoy him.” He paused. “I’m thinking that you just might be jealous.”

  She paled. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. Why should I be jealous?”

  He shrugged. “You’re used to being the only female in the saloon, and the men adore you. It’d be natural for you to worry that another girl might take your place in their hearts.”

  Katie laughed, relieved, but broke off at the sound of footsteps across the room. Turning, she saw Jack walking toward them, one arm wrapped protectively around a petite, buxom young woman with curls the color of burnished gold. They stopped a few feet away.

  “Abigail Armitage, I’d like you to meet Brian MacKenzie and his daughter, Kathleen,” Jack said almost gently.

  “It’s a great pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the girl said in a high voice. “Jack has told me so many nice things about you both.” She smiled at them nervously, then looked back up at Jack with huge brown eyes.

  Katie decided that Abigail appeared to be infatuated with Jack, but she managed to hide her unreasoning irritation behind a smile. “Welcome to Columbia, Miss Armitage.”

  “Hear, hear!” cried Brian. “Sit right up here and have something to drink. What would you like, uh...”

  “Abby,” she supplied. Holding up her wide pink hoop skirt, Abby perched on one of the stools with Jack’s assistance. “Call me Abby. And I’d truly enjoy a small glass of sherry. It’s very kind of you to offer, Mr. MacKenzie.”

  Katie blinked, glancing at the clock, but said nothing as her father poured the sherry and heartily insisted that Abby call him Brian. “So,” he inquired after she had taken a few sips, “what brings you to our humble town?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth, Jack said that I should come.”

  “Did he?” Katie said sweetly, avoiding Jack’s narrowed eyes.

  “I met Mrs. Armitage last autumn,” he explained, “just after her husband was killed in a rather questionable accident in the Rush Mine. They had a little cabin between here and Springfield, and I decided to stop by yesterday and see how she was doing.” He ignored the delicate arch of Katie’s eyebrow. “To make a long story short, Abby’s had a hard time making a go of it. I thought that if you could give her work, Brian, both of you might benefit. She not only needs the income, but it would do her good to be among people again.”

  “Consider yourself employed, Miss Abby!” Brian declared, refilling her glass.

  Her large round eyes pooled with tears, and she leaned against Jack’s arm in relief. “You’re all so kind. Jack’s visit yesterday was like a miracle. He’s saving my life....”

  “Yes, Mr. Adams ought to be a candidate for sainthood,” Katie murmured, looking away. She didn’t like the way she was feeling or acting, but kindness and charity seemed beyond her at the moment, and she was convinced that somehow Jack Adams was responsible. Certainly she’d never behaved like this before! He seemed to have the ability to needle her in ways that weren’t apparent to anyone else, which infuriated her all the more. Katie glanced back at him now and found him watching her. He gave her a barely perceptible wink, then returned his attention to Abigail Armitage, who beamed up at him with frank adoration.

  “Now then, Miss Abby,” Brian said, “when would you like to start work?”

  “I’d be glad to begin today if someone can teach me what to do.” Shyly, she looked toward Katie, who averted her eyes and began polishing the bar again.

  “Unfortunately, I have an article about the Griffin to finish for the Gazette today, but I’m sure my father would be happy to instruct you,” Katie said stiffly.

  “Did I hear you mention the Griffin?” demanded an angry voice from across the saloon.

  All four turned their attention to the tall, thin, well-dressed blond man who walked up to the bar. His mouth was set in a hard line that was accentuated by a jutting nose and cheekbones. Small, deep-set pale blue eyes stared at each of them in turn.

  Brian splashed whiskey into a shot glass and set it on the bar. “Good morning, Mr. Van Hosten. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He cleared his throat. “Uh, my daughter was just sayin’ that she’s composing a piece about the Griffin for the newspaper. She works there, you know.”

  Harold Van Hosten smiled thinly, downed the whiskey, then inquired, “It will come as no surprise to you, Miss MacKenzie, to learn that I am rather interested to hear if any progress has been made toward discovering the Griffin’s true identity or his whereabouts.”

  “None as far as I know,” Katie admitted. “My story merely explores various possibilities of identity and motive—who he might be and why he turned to this way of life.”

  “If you hear anything, even a rumor, I would appreciate it if you would come to me. I’ll be glad to reimburse you for
your trouble. As long as that outlaw is at large, my very life is in danger.”

  Katie wanted to say, “Not to mention your money!” but instead replied politely, “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Van Hosten, and I’ll remember what you’ve said.”

  “Good.” He drained his second whiskey, looking at Jack and Abby over the rim of the glass. “You’re Adams, aren’t you? I think we were introduced a few months back.”

  “That’s right.” Jack’s voice was low, his gaze even. “It was at the Wells Fargo office in Sonora, I believe. I trust you had a pleasant journey that day?”

  “On the contrary, I was robbed by that cursed Griffin!”

  Jack’s brows lifted. “I’m sorry to hear that. It was fortunate for me that I took the stage to Sacramento instead.”

  “The criminal only took my valuables. It’s a vendetta of some sort, but I assure you that I mean to even the score! Rush and I are posting a reward that should bring out a Judas among the miners who revere, and doubtless protect, that outlaw.” His blue eyes glittered coldly, then he blinked, regaining his composure. “I seem to recall that you were in search of a profitable claim to work, Adams. Any luck?”

  “Not the sort I’d hoped for. I’m here to investigate a claim I heard is up for sale a few miles east.”

  “Well, such pursuits are risky business at best these days. If you’re disappointed again, come and see me at the mine office. I might be able to provide more reliable employment.”

  The smile that curved Jack’s mouth didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s very generous of you.”

  “Pragmatic, my good fellow,” Van Hosten replied coolly. “You’re strong and able-bodied, but those qualities are easy to come by here in the foothills. What is harder to find is a man with a quick mind. You’re intelligent. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “You’ll understand if I don’t demur.” Jack’s voice was dry.