The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) (12 page)

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Authors: Anya Karin

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #western romance, #romantic comedy, #romance adventure, #cowboy romance, #wild west romance, #Romance Suspense, #inspirational romance, #western historical fiction, #chaste romance

BOOK: The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides)
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“I remember when I was four years old, and you
came home from the bank. That clock, the one we used to have near the front
door of the apartment, it said that it was seven minutes after ten. At night!
Seven past ten at night. I heard you come in after having refused to go to bed.
Do you remember?”

A slight smile crossed Father’s lips. “You
wouldn’t let your nanny, Rossie, go to sleep. I never did know how you read the
clock.”

“She told me the time because I’d been asking
since just before seven that night when you were coming home and she kept
saying she didn’t know.” Emotion was just pouring out of me, right alongside
the tears. “Do you remember what you told me? I was crying and I asked you why
you were gone all night because seven-past-ten is all night for a four year
old.”

“No, I –”

“Of course not, because you weren’t four and
treating every word your daddy said like the gospel. You told me everything was
fine and that I shouldn’t ever have to worry about you or about anything else.
Well, here I am, worried not just about you, but about a man who I didn’t know
a month ago and seem to have fallen in love with!” I clapped my hands over my
mouth as soon as I finished talking. 

In the trees beyond the creek, I heard a twig snap
and turned my head to the source of the sound, but too late to see anything.
Then seconds later, father took my attention again.

He put his hands on my shoulders, physically
forcing me to calm down. “Listen to me, Clara. The bank isn’t going anywhere,
but I’m in no rush to get back because there’s nothing to worry about. Six
months ago, hell, six
weeks
ago, I would be so panicked as to put myself
into the hospital. The two of us, right now, are standing on a gold claim
that’s just about to open up. I can feel it. We’ll take some of it – not all,
just some – and invest in some other railroad company or foreign bank, and just
like that, the bank’s back upright.”

I shook. I couldn’t do anything else. From my head
to my feet I was trembling like one of those leaves off in the distance where
the twig snapped. I squinted, but saw nothing. I loosened my grip on father’s
lapel and took his hand again.

“I’m sorry for bursting at you like that, I didn’t
mean to.”

“Nonsense, Clara. You’re damn right after all. And
I
am
a stubborn old man. But I’m determined that this will work. Do you
trust me?”

I nodded, still trying to see what it was that had
caused the racket. “I do, yes.”

“Then here.” He handed me my pan. “Let’s save this
bank.” He rattled the screened box until I took it from him.

“Okay,” I held it in one hand and wiped tears with
the other. “Okay. And about what I said in regards to Eli, I don’t know what
came over me.”

“We can’t help how we feel or who we love, Clara.
Now get down there and dig up some muck. I’ve got a meeting with Davis to talk
about our flow-down or back-wash or some such thing I don’t understand. But I
do understand that I care for you, and I’d do anything I could to make you
happy.”

“Thank you, father,” I said, sniffing and bending
to scoop up some rocks.

“Oh, and one other thing,” he called. “I think Eli
would say the same.”

Ten

September 24, 1878

Deadwood Hills, Dakota Territory

––––––––

“I
think even if Eli had something to do with the
raid, it was probably not entirely a wrong-headed thing to do.”

I sipped my coffee and took the last bite of my
eggs. All the gold panning ended up being hard, hot, sweaty work, and eating
out at the claim was difficult. Father and I had taken to having almost
comically large meals at morning and night.

From the look on Father’s face, you’d think I
personally shot someone. “I’m not sure I’d go airing opinions such as that.
Though I’m also certain you’re not the only one who thinks that way. Mr. Star
exhibited a similar idea last night when we met for a drink. He’s expressed
interest in meeting with us today at the claim.” He chewed slowly then put down
his fork. Almost immediately, he picked it back up and began tapping an urgent
rhythm on the table. “We’re close, you know that, Clara.”

“You’ve been saying that for a while,” I
responded.

“The gold is thickening. Nuggets are getting
bigger the further up the creek we go. Mr. Star seems to think we’ve found the
source. He says that nuggets of the size we’re pulling up can’t be from
anything
but
an underground source, so we’re not just getting runoff
from some other claim, this is right under our noses.”

He balled the tablecloth up in his hand, still
tap-tap-tapping with the fork. Just watching him had me excited though I wasn’t
quite sure why.

“Oh and he also says he has a note from you from
someone you’ve been missing.”

“What?” I gagged myself on egg and threw into a
coughing fit. “I’m sorry – what did you say? A letter? From Eli?”

“No, from James Polk. Yes, Eli, who else? His
trial is in two weeks, in Yankton. Mr. Bullock has to take him. Federal Indian
Affairs court or some such. That Rawls hasn’t the first clue what he’s done, I
don’t believe.” He shook his head. “No ma’am. Messing with federal law is just
about the worst thing you can do if you’re aiming to keep your head above
water. But,” he pushed back from the table. “We’ve got a date to keep. Mr. Star
will be waiting for us at the claim, or arriving shortly after. Not the common
camp, either. He likes to avoid that for one reason or another. I have a
feeling that reason’s name is plainly obvious to all present.”

His eyes had their twinkle back. And of course,
just like he always did when he was feeling good, he started humming some old
war-tune and slapped me on the back. “Got your waders?” He asked. I lifted my
skirts slightly to show him. “Good, good. Let’s go, if things go well, we’ll
start really digging by Friday. No time to waste!”

Father just about bounced out of the house. Every
person we passed on the way into Deadwood proper, he waved to, greeted and
complimented. It was quite a transition.

As we stood, waiting for the horses to be readied,
someone spoke behind us.

“Mr. James? Clara? I’m glad to find you.”

“Mr. Star, is that you?” I spun around, hand
outstretched, for some reason thinking that I was about to receive a letter
from my beloved Eli, even though Mr. Star was probably halfway to the claim by
then. Instead, my hand received a hard, rough hand around it.

“No, I’m afraid not,” He said, quirking an
eyebrow.

“Mr. Swearengen?” father turned and shook the
man’s hand. “What can we do for you? Have an errand needs to be attended?”

He looked rather out of his element when he wasn’t
at the Gem. He ignored my father completely.

“Have you that book, Clara? The one you scribble
in?”

“Yes sir, I do, is there –”

Mr. Swearengen nodded. His ebony eyes fixed on my
face. “Good. Keep it ready. I’ve heard tell that you will have reason to put it
to use. You should mind birds when you hear them tittering. They often have
more to say than you – or they – think.”

And with that, he turned and left.

I looked at father, who looked back with an
astonished expression. I’m sure mine was no different. “What an odd thing to
say,” he said. My response was a nod.

Though, as soon as we were mounted and riding to
the claim, I made sure I actually did have the book with me. I couldn’t shake
the feeling that as cryptic as he tended to be, Mr. Swearengen, just like his
‘birds’ knew, and said, much more than he let on.

*

“A
nd so I told him, Francis, if you’re going to
invest in a shaving soap company, you should use some yourself! Shave those
ludicrous sideburns!”

Father erupted into a riotous guffaw that startled
me, and my horse both. As we rounded the last curve in the thin, dirt road
leading through the hills to our claim, he took a pause to have a swig of water
between telling embarrassing stories about his employees, when I heard
something in the distance.

I raised my hand to quiet him and motioned to
dismount our horses.

“What is it? What did you hear? A bear?” He asked in
a whisper.

Shaking my head, I held my finger to my lips and
pushed apart two branches to peer through into a clearing where two familiar
men stood, facing away from the road and talking.

“No, no, we’re not spying, Clara. I won’t be party
to this.” Father stood. I grabbed one of his suspenders and pulled him back
down.

“They’d do the same to us. I have a feeling they
did
the same to us the last time I came with you. I think this is what Mr.
Swearengen was talking about. He’s gotten some inkling that Goldtooth plans to
make a move, though of what sort I can’t say. If they were snooping on us, then
I can only assume it would have something to do with the claim, but –”

I snapped my mouth closed as the two men began to
talk loudly.

“All we gotta do is talk those fool, jack-ass city
slickers into selling the claim. Can’t be that hard. What could some
half-simple dandy who wears a bowler know about claims?”

“See?” I said insistently as I pulled my notebook
out and scribbled. The buckle on my handbag hitched and I yanked to free it.

“What was that?”
That
voice I didn’t
recognize, though it had to be coming from Captain Ernie. “You hear anything?”

Eustace shook his head. “And listen, that girl’s
despondent. With her cryin’ and bellyachin’ all the time, it ain’t gonna be
long before pops has enough. Takes her back to New York, if nothing else just
so he don’t have to listen to her.”

Father’s cheeks burned red. “I’d never do-” he
snarled before I shushed him.

“I can’t believe Masterson put up such a fight.” Rawls
trailed off in the instant before he was to admit his complicity in my Eli’s
arrest. I just
knew
it. My pencil was trembling, scratching back and
forth on my notebook. A second later, I was going to write down what everyone
knew to be true then I’d run back to Sheriff Bullock and show him.

“Howdy there! Lose something in the bush? Let me
help you find it.”

I clenched my eyes.
Davis Clark
. Then I
remembered the two men we were spying on. “Oh, uh, yes sir, I seem to have
dropped an earring.

“Does it match – oh, you must have lost both, as I
see you don’t have either,” he said.

How much can one sweet, intelligent person do at
one time to ruin a plan?

“Yes, yes sir, that’s right, silly me! I lost both
of them. I’m so sorry father,” I said loudly enough that Rawls and the Captain
certainly heard. “I know how much you paid for those diamonds. I’m such a
foolish girl, of course I would lose them!”

“You didn’t lose –”

One of my elbows in his side straightened father’s
story and made him grunt then rub his stomach.

“I can’t believe it! Those earrings were very sentimental?
They were your mother’s!”

I snorted a laugh. “Okay,” I whispered, “I think
that’s enough of a show.” Just as I thought they would, as soon as they
realized they weren’t alone, Rawls and the Captain wandered off somewhere else,
no doubt to continue their discussion under much more private circumstances.

“Oh, no, I’m horribly sorry.” It just occurred to
Mr. Clark he interrupted. “They were talking about what they’d done and so you
were snooping? Oh no, what a bungle.”

Father nodded, but clapped his friend on the arm.
“Nothing you could have known about. They were discussing their nefarious plans
to run us two idiotic city-folks out of town. Or rather, Rawls was. The other
fellow, whose name I can never remember on account of not particularly caring
to recall it, was doing a lot of nodding, though he added some color.”

“Are you serious?” Mr. Clark’s face went sheet
white. “How could I have been such a fool?”

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. But, I think
they were – or at least the one of them – was about to admit he was complicit
in Eli’s arrest.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Masterson. I heard about that. Such
a nasty business.” He looked down at his boots. “Well, begging your pardon for
my mucking that up quite perfectly, Mr. Star came by my claim and had an eye
out for you. And actually it’s not just him. He’s got a pair of rather strong
looking Welshmen with him. They look rather like the handful of men I’ve got
working in my little mine at present. We’re almost to the vein, I think.”

“I,” father hesitated, looking at me, then back to
Mr. Clark. “I suppose you should know. Yes, my claim seems to be playing out. I
wanted to keep it quiet, well, because you told me to.” He stifled a smile.
“But I trust you, Davis.”

“What news! And here I was thinking my little
operation was the only one actually producing. You know, those two – or I
suppose it’s actually just Eustace who owns the claim – have been saying things
about me pretending to have a crew, or some such nonsense, to fake my claim’s
production. I’m not entirely sure what advantage that would give me, but
nonetheless, I’m happy to know I’m not the only one. Also, that makes it quite
clear what Mr. Star is doing here with Welshmen.”

The two men laughed, and I smiled politely, though
I have to admit I wasn’t paying much attention to their conversation. My mind
was firmly stuck on Eustace and the Captain, and on what Mr. Swearengen told me
before we left. Did he know? Did he somehow intuit that it was them, and also
knew we had the next claim over, and assumed we might pass them on the road?

I couldn’t imagine. But then my mind flitted back
to Mr. Swearengen perched on his balcony, watching like a vulture waiting for a
meal, as my Eli went to jail. I never believed the man played all his cards at
once, but his cunning also escaped me at first.

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