The Devil of Whiskey Row (12 page)

BOOK: The Devil of Whiskey Row
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God, if she didn't make him remember who he was, as well.

He bent his head and slanted his lips over hers, claiming them aggressively, grasping her face and holding it steady for his onslaught. His lips twisted over hers, tasting the salt of her tears, his tongue pillaging what he realized now he'd always believed belonged to him. The wetness on her cheeks dampened his own, and he wiped it with his thumbs, stroking her fine cheekbones as he deepened his kiss.

When he pulled away, she was breathless, gazing up at him with such confusion and hope that his heart lurched in his chest.

“You believe me?” she asked tremulously.

He nodded. “Aye.”

He drew her into his arms and gazed down into her reddened eyes. “Were you telling me that you care about me?”

She gave a little sob of laughter, her eyes blinking back tears again. “Yes, sir. I was.”

“Let's get out of here, Cora—leave Dorado Hills.”

She gazed up at him, her eyes wide and shining with wonder. “Together?”

He smiled. “Yes, together. Would you have me?”

Another sob bubbled out of her and she flung herself against him, pressing her face to his chest.

“Is that a yes?”

She pulled away and gave him a watery smile. “Yes.”

He smiled and tucked one of her curls behind her ear.

“Where would we go?”

“I don't know. Boston? Chicago?”

“How about Ireland?”

His chest constricted with emotion. To think of returning again—of seeing his beloved countryside, of being whole—not his old self, but a new one, with a new future. One he had not even begun to contemplate, but that involved this perfect companion. To see his family again…

“I don't think my younger brother would be too pleased to have me return and take his title,” he said ruefully, considering the effect of his return.

Cora blinked up at him. “You don't need to take his title. You could abdicate. We have enough with the gold to make a start, don't you think?”

He felt the purity of hope buoying all thoughts about the future. He smiled at her. “It won't go as far as you might think, but if we invested it wisely, perhaps. We could build a cottage on my family's property. You'd love it there—it's so beautiful.”

“Invest it wisely,” Cora repeated softly. “Jake, what do you think happened with all my father's investments?”

He stroked her cheek. “I think there wasn't as much gold out there as everyone thought. He lent money to a lot of operations that went under. I suppose he tried to make it back by borrowing from Smoochy and continuing to invest.” He shrugged. “It was a risky venture and his gamble didn't pay. That doesn't mean he wasn't trying to do the very best for you and your mother.”

She nodded. “Yes, I used to blame him, but I think you're right. Jake?” She looked grave. “One more thing.”

“Aye?”

“I'm not Eliza.”

He cupped her face. “I know, my dear. I know exactly who you are. You're the girl who helped me remember who I am. The one who helped me let go of my past—and Eliza.”

She studied his face intently, as if seeking the truth of those words, so he gave her the full benefit of his gaze, showing her all the warmth and love in his heart. Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled.

He bent to kiss her again, trying to keep himself in control. When he pulled away, he said, “Come on, let's go to Preacher Dan right now. I'm going to make an honest woman of you before I nail you to the wall again.”

She looked down at herself—she was still in her chemise. “I'll go put something on,” she said and crossed to the door, and then stopped in front of it, hesitating.

Of course she wouldn't be comfortable going out there. He felt a surge of fierce protectiveness.

“Right. I need to deal with Marie first, don't I?”

 

* * *

 

She stepped aside to allow Jake to open the door, the glee of righteous vindication rising up only to strangle her with a realization: he would spank Marie. The idea nauseated her. Not that Marie didn't deserve a good whipping, but somehow, she didn't want to share Jake or his discipline with anyone else. She grasped his arm and tugged him back, releasing it quickly when she saw a slight wince on his face. His gunshot wound had healed remarkably well since Dr. Yee had started treating him, so well that she'd momentarily forgotten his injury.

He stepped back into the room and shut the door again, looking at her expectantly. She swallowed. There was no way to say it without sounding like a fool. “I don't want you to spank her,” she said in a tiny voice, looking at her bare toes on the floor.

She peeked at him to see his eyebrows rise, but thankfully, he appeared to consider her request seriously. “Fair enough,” he said at last. He looked thoughtful, and then he nodded. “I have an idea, but it will wait. I'm going to marry you first.”

He crossed the room to the armoire and pulled out one of his dapper waistcoats, donning it gingerly over his injured shoulder.

“Come,” he said, moving back to the door and holding it open for her. She took a breath and stepped out the door, waiting for the gentle pressure of his hand at her low back to propel her forward to the bunk room. He entered with her.

“Out,” Jake said firmly to the other inhabitants.

There were many curious looks, but the room slowly emptied until only he and Cora were left. He threw open the armoire and looked inside looking through the dresses with a critical eye that made Cora giggle. He threw her a smile and selected a pale blue gown, which he tossed to her. She caught it and donned her corset, stockings, normal petticoats, and finally the gown under his appreciative gaze. She ran to the mirror and pinned her hair up, rubbing her lips together to bring out the pink.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and she glowed at the compliment.

She took his arm, allowing him to escort her downstairs, out of Daddy Diggs’ and down Whiskey Row to the center of town, seeking Preacher Dan, the missionary preacher who had dedicated his life to saving the souls of miners who'd rather gamble and whore on Sundays than attend any church. There was still no church in Dorado Hills, but Preacher Dan resided as a guest at one of the boarding houses and they found him there.

Preacher Dan pumped Jake's hand with enthusiasm when he told him their purpose. With a hand on his bible, they each swore their vows to each other. Cora could scarcely pay attention, her mind whirling as she assimilated all that had passed.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” Preacher Dan declared. “You may kiss your bride.”

Jake drew her to him, and murmured in her ear. “It's too late to change your mind now, sweetheart. You're mine, till death do us part.”

A delicious shiver ran up her spine and she melted into him, offering her lips for his taking. He kissed her once—a chaste kiss—then returned for a longer one, until Preacher Dan cleared his throat loudly several times. Jake smirked as he pulled away. “Thank you, Preacher Dan. I think I'll be taking my wife back home, now. If you'd like to join us, we'll be celebrating down at Daddy Diggs’.”

Preacher Dan muttered half-heartedly about the dangers of gambling and prostitution while Jake chuckled and handed over a ten dollar bill, which shut him up. “Thank you, Diggory,” he chirped, his tone more than genial.

Jake offered his arm. “Ready, Mrs. Diggory?” he asked.

She started at the new title and giggled, grasping his arm. Her mind spun as it sunk in that she had just married the Devil Diggory. Her devil. It felt reckless and wild, and absolutely right.

Jake didn't walk her back to Daddy Diggs’. Instead, he took her for a stroll up into the hills, taking her to a beautiful lookout where he spread his jacket on the ground for her to sit upon. They sat and talked, holding hands and making plans for a future neither one of them had ever imagined they might have.

“I want children,” Jake told her. “Loads of them. Little girls with blond curls like yours.”

Her belly clenched. “I've never missed a period, Jake,” she confessed. “Five years of whoring and I always considered myself blessed to be barren.”

His expression turned serious and he touched her cheek. “I'm sorry.”  He looked out over the valley. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “it's more about enjoying the sex than how many years you've had it. Maybe with me it will be different.”

The flutter of hope whispered through her like a breeze as she realized that he might be right. She had never climaxed before he took her that day in the office. Perhaps a climax was helpful for conception. A slow, serene smile stretched her face and she suddenly felt like the blessed Mother Mary herself. “I think it will, Jake,” she said softly, and he squeezed her hand.

“But if not, that's all right,” he promised. 

She gave his fingers an answering squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Come, we should get back before it's dark.”

They walked back slowly, talking about Ireland and their ideas for the future.

It was already dark as they approached Daddy Diggs’, and she dragged her heels, not anxious to return.

Jake stopped and drew her body against his, kissing the top of her head. “We'll leave tomorrow, sweetheart. I'm as ready to be away from this life as you are.”

A warm happiness snaked through her at his understanding. She lifted her face and smiled. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Come on, courage for just another night. I need to get everything settled.”

She nodded and took his arm again, buoyed by his reassurances. They entered through the rear for dinner, sitting down in the kitchen to heaping plates of food from Josefina. The staff gave them curious glances, but the girls were out on the floor, and no one else would dare say anything.

The sight of Joaquin gave her a sudden pang of disloyalty, realizing how easily she'd forgotten about him and his fate.

“He can come with us,” Jake said softly, noticing her gaze.

Her eyes filled with tears at his kindness. “Truly?”

He nodded. “I know how much he means to you.”

She considered a moment. “He may not want to leave.”

“Joaquin,” Jake called, taking charge as usual.

The boy scurried over. “Yes, sir?”

“I've just married Cora and we're leaving town. You can come with us, if you like, or you may stay. Olive will be running the saloon and everyone else will remain.”

Cora felt a current of interest from everyone who'd overheard Jake's news. Joaquin blinked and looked over his shoulder at Josefina. She was listening intently, her brows drawn, her warm brown eyes fixed on him.

“I'll stay,” he said in a low voice.

She saw Josefina relax.

Jake smiled at him. “Very well,” he said, digging out a twenty dollar bill. “Take good care of yourself,” he said, handing him the money.

The boy beamed at him and stuffed it quickly in his pocket. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

He turned to Cora awkwardly, but she jumped to her feet and pulled him against her in a rough embrace. He might think he was too old to be hugged that way, but she didn't care. They parted with her blinking back tears and Jake running his crooked hand up and down her back soothingly.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's go shock the rest of them.”

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Jake took a detour to his bedroom where he retrieved his leather riding crop from his trunk, and then led Cora into the hall, aware that his words in the kitchen had probably already spread like wildfire. He took up a position at the bar, perching on a bar stool and wrapping his arms around Cora, who stood with her back to him. He caught Olive's eye from across the room and motioned her over.

She played it cool, as he'd known she would, showing absolutely no surprise at the sudden turn of events. When she arrived at Jake's side she stood next to him, also facing out, like they were two proprietors surveying their business.

“Daddy Diggs’ is yours, Olive. I'll sign over the papers tomorrow at the bank to make it official.”

That caught her by surprise. She turned round eyes on him.

He shrugged. “You think I didn't know you were saving for your own place?”

When her cheeks colored and she looked guilty, he put a finger under her chin, aware that Cora had gone still and was watching intently.

“I'm not angry,” he said softly, and her body relaxed. “You'll do a fine job as Madame.”

“How much do you want for it?”

He shook his head. “No, it's yours. My gift to you.”

Her lips parted and her eyes filled with grateful tears, which she hid by looking at the floor until she'd regained composure.

“My condition is that I want you to keep everyone on and take care of our little family, as always.”

She nodded. “Of course.” Then she looked curiously from him to Cora.

“Where are you two going?”

“Back to Ireland, we think.” He kissed Cora's nape. “We'll see.”

Olive picked up Cora's hand and squeezed it. “I'm really happy for both of you,” she said with an earnest smile.

Cora threw her arms around her neck and gave Olive a peck on the cheek. “Thank you. For everything,” she said, emotion choking her voice. “You're the first friend I've had in a very long time.”

When they pulled apart, Olive made eyebrows toward Marie. “What are you going to do about her?”

Jake's mouth twitched in a smile. “The real question is what are
you
going to do? And I have an idea or two.”

He motioned to Susanna to ring the big brass bell behind the bar. The room went quiet, everyone looking at him expectantly.

“Gentlemen,” he said with a formality that his clientele did not deserve. “Allow me to introduce the new proprietor of Daddy Diggs’ Saloon, Miss Olive Jones.”

A loud whoop came from Olive's favorite customer James McCollum and was echoed by Gigi. There was a smattering of applause from the rest of the crowd.

“There may be some changes around here. I know Miss Olive has very interesting ideas for you men. To give you a taste of what is to come, I've asked her to give you a little demonstration of the things she has in mind. Marie, please go up on stage. Hand a stool up to her there.”

He gave Olive the riding crop and waggled his brows.

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