Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) Page 6

  Katie swallowed and took a deep breath, but the storm inside her body would not be calmed. “I don’t wish to discuss this... incident. Ever. I’m going home.”

  “We’re still being watched, so you’ll have to let me escort you.” When she nodded dazedly, Jack tucked her hand around his arm and they walked together up Main Street in silence. He sensed that she needed to be left alone, and he discovered that, for once in his dealings with women, he himself was confused.

  When they reached the white picket fence that enclosed the MacKenzie house, they stopped, and Jack caught Katie’s arm before she could turn away. “Don’t look so stricken,” he said lightly. “It was only a kiss, engaged in for the benefit of Miss Chelstrom. It doesn’t bind you to me in any permanent way.”

  She nodded, looking away, then Jack let go of her arm and she went into the house alone. Inside, it occurred to Katie that he might be returning to see Cecelia Chelstrom. Hating herself for caring, she peeked out the window and saw that he was walking east, toward Yankee Hill Road. Sighing, she leaned back against the door. The neat little parlor was just as she’d left it that morning, yet everything looked different. Jack’s voice echoed in her mind, repeating over and over, “Just a kiss... it doesn’t bind you to me...”

  Kissing was something that Jack Adams did all the time, Katie imagined. He’d probably kissed hundreds of women. It might mean nothing to him, but she felt transformed. Somehow, a door had opened inside of her that she had been only dimly aware of before. It was as if an entirely new person had escaped from a previously locked room, a woman Katie didn’t know, and she wasn’t certain if she could force her back into captivity.

  She walked into her sun-filled bedroom with its narrow, austere bed against the far wall and stared at herself in the bureau mirror. The beautiful eyes that looked back at her glowed with a new light.

  “It was just a kiss,” Katie whispered. She touched her mouth. It felt slightly bruised, and the memory of Jack’s kiss and their mutual abandon sent a traitorously pleasurable shiver through her body. “How could I have done that?” she wondered, and was answered by the puckering of her nipples and a tingling sensation between her legs.

  Suddenly Katie was angry—angry at her own body’s betrayal, at Jack’s cavalier attitude, at herself for loving the taste of him that lingered in her mouth and the his male scent that still clung faintly to her skin. She glared at her own reflection. “I refuse to feel this way!” she hissed. “It was just a meaningless kiss, he said so himself. A frivolous pleasure of adulthood. And Jack Adams is just a man. I would have reacted to such a pleasurable physical sensation the same way with any man.”

  The woman in the mirror smiled back at her reassuringly. Katie remembered then that she had promised to bring some food to Gideon. She no longer had any appetite but decided to take him some of the ham, bread, and fruit that were left from last night’s supper.

  Before she set out on her errand though, she brushed her tangled mane of hair, then braided it so tightly that it hurt.

  * * *

  The headquarters for the Rush Mine had recently been rebuilt of brick after another of the many fires that had plagued Columbia during its fourteen-year history. It was situated on a hillside east of town, overlooking one of the sites of hydraulic mining that had rejuvenated the gold industry in the area.

  Harold Van Hosten’s office was smaller than that of his partner, Aaron Rush, but it reflected the prosperous image the mining company wished to project. Jack, sitting on a straight chair, was separated from Van Hosten by an ornately carved, mammoth cherrywood desk. There were large, gilt-framed oil paintings on the walls, and as they talked Van Hosten drank his whiskey and smoked a long cigar. Jack thought, with decided irony, that any dusty miner who came here to confront his employer would feel like a serf who had been granted an audience with his king. It was not an atmosphere conducive to honest communication or democratic fair play.

  “I like you, Adams,” Van Hosten was saying in velvety tones. “It’s not often that I meet a miner with obvious intelligence as well as ambition and physical strength. I think that you could have a bright future if you come to work for us. If you’re patient, you just might have a position in management one day. On the other hand, you could go on working claims independently, but surely a perceptive man like yourself is aware that the day of the lone prospector is over in the Sierras. The surface gold is played out.”

  “That’s the rumor, anyway,” Jack replied laconically.

  Van Hosten lifted his pale eyebrows. “I’d say that it’s a proven fact. It’s very rare for a man to discover an appreciable amount of gold with a pan or a pick these days.”

  Jack’s eyes looked even more catlike than usual as he gazed calmly across the desk. When he spoke, however, it was only to say, “I’ll have to take your word for it, Mr. Van Hosten. You’re certainly in a position to know.”

  The older man smiled thinly. “I realize that it must be difficult for an ambitious young man like yourself to trade dreams of glory for something more realistic, but you wouldn’t regret it. I can guarantee you a fine, successful future.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “Well, initially you would be an assistant of sorts. The business has reached the point where there is more supervising than either I or Mr. Rush can handle. You’d be a fast learner, I’m sure, and your responsibilities would increase accordingly.” He exhaled a strong-smelling cloud of smoke. “Of course, we’re willing to pay handsomely for a man of your caliber.”

  “Of course,” Jack echoed with a barely perceptible note of disdain. He paused then, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “Well, Mr. Van Hosten, I would say that you have made me a very attractive offer. I’d like to accept, but I’m afraid that I can’t make any commitments. If I find that I’m dissatisfied, or if something serious develops in one of my other business interests, I would be forced to resign.”

  Van Hosten nodded, considering. “I’m willing to take that chance—and the only commitment I would require from you is one of absolute loyalty.”

  Jack grinned. “I’m as loyal as an old dog. When do you want me to start, and what do you want me to do?”

  “You can come in tomorrow, Adams, and I’ll begin to show you the way we do things around here. Then I’m planning a trip by stage to our bank in Sacramento next week, and I’d like you to accompany me. As you might suppose, I’m rather concerned that the Griffin might once again attempt to separate me from the money I am taking... or even from this earthly body. Your sharp wits and strength should be of great service.”

  “I’ll be there, sir.”

  Van Hosten poured himself another glass of whiskey. “Are you certain you won’t join me? I’d say that our agreement calls for a toast!”

  Standing up, Jack put out his hand. “Have an extra shot for me, Mr. Van Hosten,” he said, smiling, as they shook hands. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss dinner with the MacKenzies, and my hostess will be out of temper with me. Actually, she has seemed quite out of temper with me ever since we met, but I haven’t given up hope of winning her over....”

  “Go along, then, but don’t expect Katie MacKenzie to thaw out just because you’re on time for dinner. Many a man in this town has tried to discover the way to her heart, and all have failed. If you solve the mystery, you could sell the secret formula and retire a wealthy man!” Van Hosten laughed loudly and drained his glass. “Good evening, Adams. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. At six.”

  Jack longed to utter an exclamation of protest but forced a smile instead as he backed toward the door. “Yes, sir. Good night, sir—and thank you.”

  * * *

  The scene at the dinner table was comfortable and homey, unnervingly so, as far as Katie was concerned. As she ladled fricassee of rabbit with baby carrots and potatoes onto a platter, she cast a sidelong glance at Jack and her father, who were cozily discussing Columbia’s current petition for incorporation. Brian launch
ed into an explanation of his position on the issue, and Jack leaned back in his chair, listening with an affectionate smile. He looked completely at ease and content. Freshly washed, he’d rolled up his sleeves to display handsome brown forearms, and droplets of water still clung to the hair that curled at the back of his neck. Unbidden, the memory of her fingers in Jack’s hair rose up to torment Katie. She wished she could scour the feel of it from her hands, erase the pleasure of it from her mind, and was reminded of Lady Macbeth.

  When she set the platter on the table, Brian asked, “Are there any more of those biscuits from breakfast, darlin’?”

  “I’ll get them,” Jack said, rising. “You sit down, Miss MacKenzie. You’ve done enough work for one day.”

  Unable to meet his smiling eyes, Katie nodded and obeyed. When Jack passed next to her, she breathed in his clean scent and felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Are you feelin’ all right, Katie?” Brian inquired, peering at her in the soft lamplight. “You look a bit out of sorts.”

  “No, no, I’m fine. A little tired, perhaps. It’s been a busy day.”

  MacKenzie sniffed the fricassee appreciatively, then served himself. Jack offered Katie a biscuit which she took without looking at him.

  “I see your braid has been restored,” he observed.

  “Yes.” Katie spread jam on her biscuit with painstaking care.

  “That reminds me!” Brian boomed suddenly, startling them both. “How could I have forgotten? I saw Victoria Barnstaple on my way home and she told me the wildest tale! Sometimes I swear that woman’s a secret tippler. She said that the two of you were kissing in the middle of Main Street today, with, as she put it, ‘shocking enthusiasm,’ and that Katie’s hair was all unbound, flowing down her back!”

  Katie choked on her bite of biscuit while Jack grinned at his host. “What did you reply, MacKenzie?”

  “Why, I just laughed and told her that I’d outgrown fairy stories forty-odd years ago!”

  “Well... Mrs. Barnstaple wasn’t completely inaccurate,” Jack said carefully. “We weren’t in the middle of Main Street, but I suppose that, to the casual observer, it might have appeared that we were kissing.” Katie’s eyes flew up to meet his, and he offered her a reassuring smile. “Your daughter very selflessly agreed to pretend to kiss me so that Miss Chelstrom, whom you will recall meeting earlier today, would believe that I was no longer romantically available. Miss MacKenzie did me a great favor and I am now deeply in her debt.”

  “Oh.” Brian swallowed some gravy-drenched rabbit and tried to make sense of what he had just heard. “So it was all an act... not a real kiss, then, hmm? I suppose you were just kissin’ Katie’s chin or thereabouts, and it looked like the real thing, right?”

  “Something like that,” Jack confirmed with a sober nod. “And, as I said, it was a great sacrifice for your daughter to suffer my touch at all, considering the way she feels about me. You should be proud that she possesses such generosity of spirit.”

  “Now, Jack, I’m sure my Katie bears you no ill will, and after all, she’s aware of my fondness for you. No doubt she did it in part because she knew it would please me, isn’t that so, lass?”

  Both men were looking at her, forks poised over their plates. Katie wanted to scream. “If you don’t mind, Papa, I’d rather forget the entire incident. It really was meaningless. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Certainly, love, certainly.” Brian, his brow knit in confusion, cast about for a new topic of conversation. “Jack, why don’t you tell us what else you did with your day?”

  He took a long drink of water, then smiled bravely over the rim. “Well... I accepted a job offer from Harold Van Hosten. I start work tomorrow morning as his new assistant.”

  With a gasp of outrage, Katie leaped to her feet and threw her napkin at him. When Jack caught it deftly, his brows flying up in half-amused surprise, her fury doubled. “That does it! I can’t bear another moment in this man’s company! And to think that I felt sorry for you, the way I might feel sorry for a starving dog! If I had had any idea what you planned to do, that you intended to work for that corrupt murderer, I would never have taken pity on you or suffered your touch for even those few moments!” Although Katie’s eyes flashed with rage, her voice trembled as if she were dangerously close to tears. “If I never see you again, it will be too soon!”

  With a strangled cry, she fled to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Jack winced, looked over at the puzzled MacKenzie, and murmured with his usual trace of irony, “It’s no use trying to deny it. She does not like me!”

  Chapter 6

  June 30-July 2, 1864

  Katie cleaned the jars of brandied fruit that were lined up beneath the saloon’s huge mirror. It was late, and Brian was hanging a “Closed” sign in the window while Abby swept the floor. At the bar, Jack Adams folded his copy of the Columbia Gazette and drained his cup of tea. Abby watched him, brown eyes filled with longing as she dragged the broom over the same spot for the third time.

  “That’s quite a piece you wrote about the Griffin, Miss MacKenzie,” Jack said, handing her his empty cup. “Your store of knowledge about the man is impressive.”

  Katie ignored the teasing note in his voice. “I take pride in my work, Mr. Adams.”

  For a moment he was tempted by the challenge of making her smile, or at least look at him, but fatigue won out. All too soon five o’clock would arrive again, and he would be forced to awaken and begin another day of work in the offices of the Rush Mine. Besides, Katie’s usual barriers to communication between them had been impenetrable since the day she had learned of his employment by Van Hosten. Most of the time Jack was too busy or exhausted to make more than a halfhearted attempt to pierce her armor. Today it seemed easier to wait for her to grow tired of the game herself.

  Now he merely said amiably, “Well, I’m sure that the Griffin, wherever he may be tonight, is flattered by your interest.” Before Katie could reply, Jack crossed the bare floor to exchange a few affectionate words with Abby. Then, with a yawn and a half wave at Brian, he left the saloon.

  Abby’s eyes lingered on the swinging door. Moments later, her sweeping done, she disappeared into the back room. Katie was ready to go home to bed herself, but something in the older woman’s demeanor troubled her. After a moment’s consideration, she walked down the back hallway and met Abby coming out of the dark storage room.

  “Good heavens!” Abby gasped. “Miss MacKenzie, you startled me!”

  Katie was certain she smelled liquor on Abby’s breath. “Haven’t I asked you to call me Katie?” she said, then paused, torn between disapproval and concern. “Abby, perhaps I’ve been too busy or preoccupied to extend a proper hand of friendship to you since you came to Columbia. In any case I want to correct that oversight now. I know that you have been going through a difficult time, and I hope that you haven’t felt all alone in your new home....”

  In the shadows, Abby self-consciously raised a hand to her mouth. “You’re very kind... Katie. Thank you.” She tried to escape, but Katie touched her arm.

  “Is there something in particular that’s bothering you? It might help to talk about it.”

  “I—no... well, I can’t say that I’m exactly happy these days, but that’s to be expected, isn’t it? Life seldom turns out as we hope, and I’m learning not to hope anymore.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “What had you hoped for here?” Katie asked gently.

  “I know it’s not fair to draw conclusions about my future in Columbia after only a few days... but I suppose I expected to see a bit more of Jack. Before he came to visit me, I kept pretty much to myself, partly because I just didn’t feel like seeing anyone after Ben died and partly because we lived miles away from anyone else. When Jack rode up, he brought hope and laughter back into my world. He’s so alive, isn’t he?” She gazed at Katie with searching eyes, waiting for her nod before continuing, “I see now that it was foolish of me, but I suppose I hoped t
hat I could continue to lean on him here in Columbia. I’m sure he cares for me, and would rush to my aid if I were truly in need, but it’s clear that he has his own life to lead and expects me to stand on my own two feet.”

  “That’s hard, isn’t it?” Katie couldn’t forget that worrisome whiff of liquor.

  “Well, I have to accept that Jack is one of those lone wolves. He has a good heart, but he’ll never be committed to anyone. He needs his freedom.”

  Katie nodded, mulling this over, then put an arm around Abby. There were many things she longed to say, but she compromised with, “You must reach out to the rest of us. Jack Adams isn’t your only friend in Columbia. If you need to talk to someone, I hope you’ll come to me.”

  Abby managed a faltering smile. “I appreciate that.”

  * * *

  The night was warm, and the barest breeze caressed the white curtains at Katie’s windows. In spite of the late hour, she found that she couldn’t sleep. Sitting on the edge of her bed, clad in a long, filmy nightgown of cotton lawn, she reread her article about the Griffin. The last few paragraphs had taken courage for her to write and courage for Gideon to print:

  The Griffin’s legend grows with each new stage robbery. Some feel that his allure lies in the mystery of his identity and the flair with which he carries off his crimes. Others contend that he has found favor with the people because they do not perceive him to be a criminal at all, but rather a modern-day Robin Hood balancing the scales of justice.

  The Griffin’s motive is a cause for speculation. The most popular theory casts him as a miner who was cheated by Rush and/or Van Hosten, yet he appears to be more refined than any of the miners known to the citizens of Columbia. In these times, when it is common for revenge to be sought with ruthless violence, the Griffin is an enigma.