The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) (6 page)

“That’s Goldtooth. Eustace Rawls. He’s something
of a legend around here. He came from the Comstock when it emptied out. A lot
of folks thought he was coming to prospect for George Hearst, but as it
happened, old Eustace had left Hearst’s employ. He made his way up here to
strike it rich on his own. Thus far, all he’s done is to cultivate a month-long
hangover that I’m certain will grip him as soon as his lips don’t taste whiskey
for a day or two.”

I chuckled and then quickly covered my mouth. Mr.
Star had such a way of rattling off words that I found him endlessly
fascinating. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just that the way you speak, it’s like
you never run out of things to say. I could listen to you for hours.”

“Well thank you ma’am. Since opening this store, I’ve
learned the usefulness of speaking circles around people. I expect that if I
move into politics later, it’ll come in quite handy.”

At that, Mr. Star turned to his books for a time,
balancing expenditures, he said. Father and I looked at all sorts of tools, to
pass the minutes until Mr. Bullock’s return.

Ah! He returns. Seth, can I leave you in charge of
the store for the day?”

Mr. Bullock scraped something off the side of his
boot and onto the store’s steps as he entered. “I already said yes, Sol. I’m terribly
sorry about that oaf, folks. He’s one of the many problems that this little
camp has grown. He’s already fast asleep though, sleeping like a dead drunk
baby.”

“Father? What shall I do while you’re gone?” I had
to speak or else I’d laugh at Mr. Bullock’s joke harder than would be proper.

“Oh, hum.” He chewed his mustache. “I hadn’t
thought of that. Well, can you arrange the ice delivery with Mr. Bullock, and
acquire some household supplies? That’d be most helpful.”

“Yes sir, we can handle that.” Mr. Bullock seemed
eager for the men to leave. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her. Good luck with
your claim.”

Gathering a few tools, Mr. Star led my father out
of the store, the two of them chattering away about gold and the process.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mr. Bullock said. “I’ve
got some business to attend, and I’d like you to come with me. I’ll show you
the town, such as it is. Oh, apologies. Seth Bullock.” He tipped his hat.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bullock, I’m Clara James.”
I liked this one too, though his forwardness was a bit disarming. I had to
remind myself that in such a rough place, his manners had probably roughened a
good deal.

“I know,” he said. “Everyone’s heard you two are
presently occupying the house on the edge of town. Nice place.”

“Oh thank you,” I said, taken aback. “But how
did-”

“I built it.” He put his hand on my shoulder.
“After you, ma’am.”

I stopped in the doorway. “I’m sorry, but I don’t
want to take you away from the store you’re watching. I don’t want you to miss
any business or the like.”

Mr. Bullock shook his head and nudged me into the
street, pulling the door closed behind him. “Business never picks up until the
afternoon. And I expect Sol didn’t
really
think I’d be sitting around in
that place while there was a lady to show around.”

Taken aback, but pleased at the company, I took
his arm and we proceeded east, into the heart of town.

September 15, 1878

Deadwood Hills, Dakota Territory

––––––––

“F
ather,” Pursing my lips, I managed to only laugh
a little bit as I beheld my beloved father, the fabulously wealthy Jefferson
James, in his working clothes. “I don’t know what to say.”

I’d gone to bed the previous night before he
returned, and awakened after he’d already put coffee on the stove. Mr. Star
showed him how, he told me.

“You like it? Haven’t ever seen ol’ Pa in anything
like this before, have you, Clara? It’s a far cry from my suits and cravats,
no?” He pushed his chest out with his hands on his hips. Hips that were covered
with hip waders – boots that seemed to turn into trousers. Huge suspenders to
hold them up rounded out a truly remarkable fashion which also included a
plaid-patterned shirt, and one of those absurd wide-brimmed hats that seemed to
be perpetually dirty for no good reason.

“It is certainly a new look. And I don’t believe
you’ve ever referred to yourself as ‘ol Pa’ before either.” I patted him on the
shoulder. “I suppose Mr. Star had good news for you about the claim?”

Brushing his mustache, my father was hardly able
to hide his excitement. “Oh did he ever! He thinks this might be a tremendously
rich claim. The only problem is that the gold has to be found first. But that’s
no problem. He showed me all manner of things about how to sift through river
water to find flecks, and then follow them to the source. It’s a fascinating
business, this.”

I was glad to see him so happy of course, but I’m
naturally suspicious, a trait which some of my conversing with Mr. Bullock had
peaked.

“Mr. Bullock, he said a few things that-”

“Yes, I’m sure he’s a very nice man with a lot of
important things to share, but right now we need to get ready. It’ll take a
number of days to pan out the source of the gold, as Mr. Star said, and then
when we figure that out, we’ll be able to hire a few hands to work the claim
until a vein is found. Well, I’m getting quite ahead of myself.” He finally
stopped for a breath.

I shook my head. “I can’t believe this is all
happening so quickly, Father. It’s just that the things Mr. Bullock warned me
about rang true with what Eli, I mean, Mr. Masterson said.”

“Eli, is it? He can’t be gone much longer. Didn’t
he say he’d be back in around a week’s time?”

“Yes, I think so,” I said. “But what does that
have to do with anything?”

“Even speaking about him flusters my daughter.
That cowboy’s got his hooks in you deep.” Father grinned and stuck his elbow in
my ribs like he had since I was a little girl. “Anyway, we’ve got things to do.”
He handed me a bundle of clothing. “Here, you’ll want to wear this instead of
your fineries.”

I smoothed my paisley skirt. “Wait, did you say ‘
we
’?”
My voice was probably a little more shocked than I mean to sound.

“I want to show you the thing that’s going to make
us rich, Clara. I mean
really
rich. Not rich like a banker can be, or a
small-time businessman. Rich like George Hearst. Rich like –”

Patting him on the arm again, I cut father off.
“Weren’t you saying something about getting ahead of yourself?” He smiled. “I
don’t know what good you expect me to be at a gold claim. I hardly have the
first idea what I’m doing.”

“Well then you’re better off than I was yesterday,”
father laughed softly. “Come on, put this stuff on. If nothing else I want to
take you out to the claim and show you what it looks like. Even if there’s no
gold out there, it’s the most beautiful damn country I’ve ever seen. Oh good
Lord, listen to my mouth. One day around these miners and cowboys and I’m
mouthing off like one of them. Pardon me.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s fine. I have to
wear all of this?” He handed me a full outfit – underskirts, bonnet, apron and
all.

“Mhm. There’s a few women out there working the
claims, Mr. Star told me. This is the sort of thing they all wear. Meet me
outside? First order of business is going to the stables in town and getting
our horses.”

At that, I put my hands up. “Horses? Where did you
get horses?”

“You old father bought two very nice mares from a
gentleman at the Gem last night. He may have been rather intoxicated, but he
was down on his poker luck.”

He whistled as he clomped out the door and slammed
it shut. I took a deep breath and began to change. I couldn’t take my mind off
of two things – one, the dangers we’d been warned about, which centered on the
duplicity of the other miners. The second was Eli, and his promise to return.
To that point, I’d managed not to forget him. In fact, I’d managed to think
about him almost unceasingly. I hoped that he would at least remember my face
when next we met.

*

M
orning mist gave way to slowly mounting humidity
as the two beautiful mottled Arabians my father bought galloped along the path
to the hills. There were several claims spread out over a huge area, about a
hundred miles or so, of rolling country, but for safety’s sake, the prospectors
had agreed to set up camps in a small common area on one corner of a claim that
was already worked out.

He’d met three of the prospectors the day before
when he was with Mr. Star, though a number of them had been already out in the
field when he went through.

“City slicker!” A voice calling from the
campground made us both turn at once. It was the man we’d seen in the tussle
with Sheriff Bullock at the hardware store. Alongside him was a bulldog of a
man who remained silent. “Good to see you’re actually working. Most’a you type
what come out here do it thinking gold just rains from the sky.”

“Mr. Star warned me sternly about those two,”
Father said softly to me, out the side of his mouth as the men approached.
“Goldtooth – Mr. Rawls, I mean – is known to try and bilk people out of their
claims rather than actually work on his own. The only name he knew for the
accomplice there is ‘Captain’ Ernie. They have some kind of history with Mr.
Masterson, though I’m not sure –”

“The gossip makes my ears burn. Which claim is
yours?”

“Father,” I said, “if Mr. Star warned you about
them, maybe best not to say much.”

Before I could finish, Father’s nerves got the
best of him. “Morning to you,” he said. “Ours is the one up the creek a way, to
the north.”

I let out a sigh and Mr. Rawls spat a wad of brown
ooze near my father’s boot.

“Keep me up on what you find. These sorts of
arrangements always work better when we, er, work together. Help each other
out.”

My skin had begun to crawl the instant Mr. Rawls
addressed my father. After the spitting and the smell of his sour breath when
he got closer, exiting his presence was my most urgent need. “Father,” I said.
“We should get to the claim and get to work. I’m sure Go – I’m sure Mr. Rawls
is eager to get to his work as well. Isn’t that right, Mr. Rawls?”

Captain Ernie pulled his lips back in a horrible
grin, revealing a set of absolutely straight, and very yellow, teeth. He looked
rather similar to a smiling bear, I thought, and pursed my lips to avoid
laughing directly in his face.

“That’s right,” Father gulped. “We need to get
busy. A great deal to do and all. It was nice to finally meet you formally.”

My father stood there, visibly uncomfortable,
trying to figure out some way to make a gracious exit, as Mr. Rawls just stared
at him, waiting for a reaction. I took his hand and pulled. “We should leave
Mr. Rawls to his work, father. Goodbye.” I waved as I yanked him away.

“Well, what do you think?” Father said as we
pulled to a stop a quarter-hour further along the trail from where we met Rawls
and his goon.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “But this is the claim?”

A rather quick moving stream cut through two rocky
hills. Far off and a good distance beneath us was a clearing that led up to the
base of a mountain. The whole scene laid out in front of me was quite
startling, especially for someone like me, who until about a week and a half
prior, had only taken in nature as it was presented on short carriage rides
into the rather lifeless area outside New York City. This was something else
entirely.

Suddenly, the newness of it all crashed into my
chest. And not just the novelty of the surroundings, either. The new people –
new men, I should say; though the two ladies I met at Mr. Swearengen’s saloon
were quite colorful – were of a breed I’d never witnessed before, much less
interacted with to any meaningful degree. Mr. Star and Mr. Bullock; the rather
horrifying Captain Ernie and Goldtooth Rawls, and of course, Eli, they were all
just such fascinating people. My mind settled on Eli’s sky-blue eyes for a
moment before I remembered the warning both he
and
Mr. Star gave us
about looking out for ourselves amongst the prospectors.

“Father,” I said, still looking over the valley,
“if Mr. Star warned you about those men, why test what he said? After just
having met both men, I can tell I can trust Mr. Star a great deal more than I
trust him.” I nodded, tilting the brim of my hat backwards slightly.

“I know. Can I be honest with you, Clara?”
Father’s voice was less earnest than it had been lately.

“Of course. Is something bothering you?”

“I’m a little worried is all, though I suppose
it’s nothing. Running up against those two put me on edge. I can’t help but
think you should be in New York, being courted by Francis and awaiting a
wedding. This is no place for a girl like you.”

Francis Malone
, the man my father decided
I’d marry when he first went to work at the bank. He was a nice enough young
man. Ambitious, driven, willing to do anything to succeed, that sort. The only
problem is that he didn’t strike me as someone I wanted to spend any more time
with than necessary. His conversation was a bore, and after meeting someone
like Eli, I’m not sure I could ever have gone back to such a life.

“Father,” I paused to consider my words for a
moment.

“I don’t want that life,” I admitted. “Francis is
a very nice man and I’m sure he’d do well to take care of me and all of that,
but, may I be honest with
you
? I don’t want to be with him. I don’t want
to be the sort of person who just learns to take care of a home and raise a
clutch of children. Coming out here and seeing this beauty, meeting these
people, I don’t want to stop and settle down into a nice New York life. Not yet
anyway.”

“That damned Eli did this to you.” There was a
glint in my father’s eye, but he still had a bit of an irritated twinge in his
voice.