Cera's Place (17 page)

As Jake stopped to take a breath, Cera wondered how they had gotten so far off track. One minute they were making love and the next, she had started a jealous quarrel. She dropped her head onto her knees and fought the tears that refused to go away.

Jake walked to the entrance of the pavilion and studied the sea. He rubbed at his chest a few times and then said roughly, “Get dressed. We should get back to your friends.”

“No,” she replied in a quiet, but firm voice.

He turned to face her. “Why? I don’t think we have anything more to say to each other.”

“Actually, we do. So far, you’ve done most of the talking,” she pointed out. “And it sounds like you’ve done some assuming about me, such as how I feel, because of it. Shouldn’t I get a chance to talk?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug and looked back at the sea.

“Please sit with me.” When he sat down, she took his hand, feeling the rough skin and calluses of a man who had worked hard all of his life. She held his palm to her cheek for a moment, and then sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He took back his hand and looked down, as if the answers he had been searching for would be revealed in the floor’s debris. “Cera…” he began.

“No, I’m talking now.” She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “This isn’t easy for me to say.”

“Oh? Well, it’s not that easy for me to hear,” he snapped.

“Do I get to have my say or not?” Cera asked trying to control her rising temper. Jake waved her on with a flip of his hand.

“Thank you. As I was saying, this isn’t easy for me.”

Jake grunted in reply.

She ignored his response. “I had a bad experience with a man a few years back. Instead of taking a chance on getting hurt again, it’s easier to bury myself in the day-to-day chores of running the saloon. I don’t ask myself what else I need or want out of life. Then you walked, well swaggered, into my saloon and everything changed. You were right when you said I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you think I am too?”

Cera hit the ground with her fists. “I don’t know. And I don’t know what I feel. Is it love? Is it lust? All I know is that I want to be with you. I felt sick when I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Jake stood up. “Well, I’m sorry to trouble you. We’d better go.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Stop it! I’m sorry I’m not saying this well. What I’m trying to say—what I’m asking from you—is to have some more time. I need time to get used to these feelings. I’m sorry I can’t say the words you want to hear right now. All I can tell you is that I want you in my life. Please tell me that’s enough for now.”

Jake lay back on his coat, covering his face with his arms. She held her breath as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he gave her a tired, half smile. “Time’s all I got.”

“No, it’s not,” she replied. “For this moment, you have me.”

Cera curled up beside him and took his hand in both of hers. She held it over her heart while they listened to the sounds of the garden change from afternoon to dusk.

*****

After supper, the group retired to the parlor and Isaac explained the travel plans for the following day. When he finished, Cera asked, “So Molly never found Johnny?”

“No, she looked around the neighborhood and Chinatown, but didn’t have any luck.”

“You were right, Isaac,” she admitted. “We should never have let Johnny follow Biggs. I’ll never forgive myself if something bad has happened to him.”

“Johnny’s a smart kid. He knows how to take care of himself,” Ginger offered. “There may be a good reason why we can’t find him. The problem is, if we’re leaving town and he does turn up, he won’t know where we are or why we left.”

“That’s a good point.” Cera frowned and walked over to the window. Pulling back the curtain, she stared out into the night, thinking of how to get a message to Johnny. A strong moon reflected off the bay. Under better conditions, it would be a romantic night. As she studied the twinkling lights of the city, a movement in the bushes caught her eye. Lowering the curtain, she announced, “There’s someone out there.”

Reaching into the pocket of her dress, she pulled out the gun that Jake gave her and was halfway to the front door before Isaac grabbed her arm. “Wait, we don’t know who—or even what—is out there. It could be a dog or a coon.”

“He’s right,” Jake agreed. “Isaac and I will go out the back way and circle round. We’ll try to come up behind whatever is out there and surprise it.”

“What? You and Isaac will go? I’m a better shot than Isaac is. Don’t you go getting all manly on me, Jake. If anyone’s going outside, it’ll be you and me.”

Jake looked to Isaac who shrugged in response. “She’s right. I’m a terrible shot.”

“Fine, but I don’t like the plan, just so you know.” Motioning for her to follow him, Jake headed toward the back of the house.

When she walked into the kitchen, he was moving around the room, turning the lamps down until they stood in darkness. As they waited for their eyes to adjust, he whispered in her ear, “No heroics. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I could say the same to you,” she whispered back.

Jake leaned against her for a brief moment. “What the hell…” Grabbing her with his gun hand, he crushed his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Cera struggled in his embrace. “Would you stop that,” she hissed. “There’s no time for that kind of nonsense. This is serious.”

“So was that.”

She didn’t need lamplight to know he was wearing his wolf grin. Rolling her eyes, she pushed him toward the back door. “Let’s get this over with.”

As he pulled the door open, someone pushed it from the other side. Cera and Jake jumped back as a small figure fell through the door, sprawling on the floor at their feet.

“Hold it right there. I have a gun on you.” Jake stepped over the intruder to shut and lock the door. When Cera turned up the nearest lamp, a pale ragamuffin in dirty clothes sat up, blinking at the light.

“Hi, Miss Cera,” the boy said with a wide grin.

“Sam? Oh, for goodness sakes, what are you doing here?” She shook her finger at the boy. “I should take a stick to you. You scared us half to death!”

“Who’s Sam?” Jake asked.

“Put your gun away, Jake. You’re frightening the boy.” Cera pocketed her Derringer.

Obeying, Jake holstered his Colt and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“Sam’s in Johnny’s gang,” she explained. “Where’s Johnny? We’ve been looking for him.”

“He got nabbed.” The boy’s gaze fell to the floor, as if the tiles suddenly interested him.

“He got nabbed?” Her voice rose as she repeated the news.

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I told him you’d be mad.”

“What did he do?” She tried to keep her voice level as she asked the question.

“Mr. Wilson over on Broadway caught him stealing rolling papers from his stand.” Remembering his manners, Sam stood and took off his cap. “He called the coppers and everything.”

She crossed her arms and stared down at the boy with a stern look. “And what was he going to do with rolling papers? You know you boys are too young to be smoking.”

Embarrassed, Sam’s toe rubbed at an imaginary spot on the floor. Trying to change the subject, he asked, “Hey, what smells so good? Is there any left?”

She pressed her lips together to stop from smiling. “You can eat in a few minutes. First, tell me why you are here. Did Johnny send you?”

“Yeah, the coppers are locking him up for a week to teach him a lesson.” Sam laughed as if he had told a good joke. “He told me to find you. We figured you’d all go to Mr. Knappe’s house. I would’ve been here sooner, but this old man caught me hitching a ride on the back of his wagon, and…well, anyway, me and the boys, we’re all real sorry your saloon burned down, Miss Cera. Real sorry.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Sam, and it was really nice of you to come all this way to tell us about Johnny.” Smoothing the hair out of his face, she kissed his forehead. Sam flushed a deep red and studied the floor again. “Did Johnny want you to tell us anything else?”

Sam screwed up his face in concentration. “Naw, he didn’t have any kind of message or nothing.”

Disappointed, Cera let out the breath she had been holding.

“But he told me to give you something.”

“I don’t understand. What on earth would he want to give me?”

Sam shrugged. “It don’t look valuable, but Johnny said it was real important and to not let anyone see me with it.” His lip curled a bit. “Johnny’s always acting all high and mighty.” Digging through his tattered bag, he pulled out a thick piece of folded paper. He thrust it at Cera. “Here, maybe you know what it is.”

She looked at Jake, seeing the same question reflected in his eyes that she had in her mind. Could this be the proof they needed to stop Biggs and the Chinese Tong? She carefully unfolded the paper, revealing Chinese writing. “Did Johnny say how he got this?”

Sam shrugged. “He heard you all talking that you needed that, so he pinched it. I told him you’d be mad at him for stealing, but he kept saying you’d be real happy. Are you, Miss Cera?”

She grabbed Sam and hugged him hard. “Oh my heavens, boy, if this is what I think it is, I’m very happy.”

Sam tried to look annoyed when she finally let him go, but his shining eyes told the truth. “So does that mean I can have some food now?”

Cera clapped her hands together. “Yes, Sam, I’m going to fix you a feast.”

Jake cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should celebrate just yet. Can Li or Hu read Cantonese? We need to make sure Johnny didn’t steal the Tong’s list for the market. If it is the record of the kidnapped girls, and Biggs or the Chinese find out we have it, they are going to do more than burn down your saloon.”

She nodded in understanding.

“Johnny stole that piece of paper from the Tong? Boy, Johnny’s dumber than I thought. They’re the meanest sons of —” Sam caught the alarmed look on Cera’s face and clapped a hand over his mouth.

She handed the scroll to Jake. “Why don’t you update the others and then show this to Hu and Li. I’ll work on feeding our intruder.”

As he left the room, she heard him mutter, “I could have used that Johnny kid during the war.”

******

Isaac came into the kitchen as Sam finished inhaling his late supper. He reached out and tousled the boy’s hair. “Looks like we have another guest for the night. Good thing you’re short. I think we’ll put you on the couch in the parlor. It’s either that or on the floor of one of the guest rooms.”

Sam burped loudly, wiping a hand across his mouth. “I don’t care none. Either place sounds better than where I usually bunk for the night.”

“Good, then go get settled in the parlor. My housekeeper, Molly, will help you.”

The boy sprinted from the room, running into Jake at the doorway. “Sorry, mister!” he called over his shoulder without stopping.

Cera put down the dish she was washing and dried her hands. “Could Hu and Li read the scroll?”

Jake’s expression was somber, as he held up the stolen piece of paper. “The name of the girl Hu’s father saw kidnapped, Lan Chiu, is here along with several others they recognized.”

She closed her eyes for the briefest second and sighed. “If you think we can trust your friend the police chief, we’ll give the scroll to him first thing in the morning. Maybe we won’t have to leave town after all.”

Jake reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I know he’ll help us any way he can.” An awkward silence filled the room. He looked back and forth between Isaac and Cera, and then dropped her hand. “Well, then, I guess I’ll see you both in the morning, and thanks for your hospitality, Mr. Knappe.”

When Isaac didn’t reply, Cera hit him on the arm.

Scowling, Isaac grunted, “You’re welcome.”

“Good night, Jake.” She hoped her eyes told him more than her mouth did. When he was gone, she faced her friend with arms akimbo. “What’s wrong?”

Isaac shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Nothing, why?”

“Because you look like you’ve been chewing on glass.” Her finger jabbed the air for emphasis. “What do you have against Jake and me?”

“I just…I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Things seem to be getting serious between you two.”

“Why do you think he would hurt me? Look at all he’s done for us so far—and it’s not even his fight.”

“I know, but he’s a stranger, Cera, and a drifter at that. I don’t know if you can trust him to stick around in the long run…if that’s where you’re heading.”

Cera crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, for goodness sake, I didn’t know you were a fortune teller with a crystal ball.”

“I’m sorry.” Isaac spread his hands out in front of him. “It’s just we don’t know much about him, and I think he’s sick. He passed out in the saloon the other day—and not from drinking.”

“He gets headaches. It has to do with the war.” She let out a short laugh at the surprised look on Isaac’s face. “What? You think I didn’t know?”

“He wouldn’t tell us what was wrong. I assumed he wouldn’t tell you either.”