Angel in My Arms (27 page)

"I sent word to Titus that we'd be there this afternoon. Now go
ahead. Get into bed"—he winked—"and I promise I'll make it worth your
while."

Celeste watched him leave the room, his firm buttocks flexing as he
walked. Then she climbed into her bed to wait for him and his promise.

"Afternoon, ma'am."

Celeste glanced up from under her bonnet tied beneath her chin with
a tulle scarf. Her attention shifted from a piece of fabric she was
considering in the mercantile store, to a dapper man tipping his bowler
hat to her.

"Good… good afternoon." She had become careful about speaking to
strangers in Carrington. It seemed as if everyone knew she was the
female partner in the MacPhearson Fortune strike, and everyone wanted
something out of her. Miners approached her on the streets wanting
jobs. Bankers offered to invest her money as they sat in the church pew
behind her on Sundays. One enterprising young man, wanting her to see
his new silver detecting device, had found his way into her backyard
and approached her as she hung her pantaloons to dry.

The man replaced his hat on his head. He appeared to be in his late
thirties, well groomed, with clean hands. He spoke like an educated
man. "Brent Trevor, ma'am."

She smiled, nodded, and glanced back at the pinstripe fabric. She
had a little cash still in the bank from her inheritance, and she was
considering having a suit made for Fox as a surprise.

"I… I was wondering if you might help me, ma'am," the stranger
continued. "Which gloves would you suggest?" He held two pairs of
ladies limeric gloves, one black, one ivory, both with fine stitching
and flower ornamentation at the wrists.

She lifted an eyebrow. "For yourself?"

He laughed. "No. For my mother, actually. I've just arrived in
Carrington. I've bought several old land claims near the MacPhearson
strike. I intend to be here a while, so I thought I might send my
mother a gift."

Celeste glanced at the gloves. His question seemed innocent enough.
He apparently didn't realize who she was. "Would they be for travel, or
dress?"

"Travel, I should think. I'm hoping that once I'm settled in the
house I've just purchased on Plum Street, she'll come and stay with me."

Plum Street.
He had to have bought one of the vacant houses
near hers. They would be neighbors. "I would definitely go with the
black then, shows less dust, and you know how dusty the trains and
stagecoaches can be."

He smiled handsomely and tipped his hat. "Many thanks Miss…"

She hesitated to give her name, but the man was so pleasant, and he
was buying gloves for his mother. "Kennedy, Celeste Kennedy."

"Very nice to meet you, Miss Kennedy, and thank you for your
assistance." He started to turn away and then turned back. "Heavens,
don't tell me you're
the
Miss Kennedy, half owner of the MacPhearson Fortune?"

She gave a quick smile, looking up to see if anyone had heard him.
She was hoping to get in and out of the store without having to turn
down any miners. Was this man going to ask something of her as well? "I
am."

"Well, I'm very pleased to meet you. Good day." He smiled, tipped his hat, and walked away.

Celeste watched as he carried the gloves to the front of the store
to make his purchase. Her fame was making her suspicious of everyone.
He was a nice gentleman simply looking for a woman's opinion on gloves,
nothing more.

Celeste bought the pinstriped fabric for Fox, and a nice brocade for
herself. Fall would be coming and winter right on its tail. Despite the
heat, she knew that, all too soon, she'd be grateful for a warm gown
and woolen stockings. She also, purchased a sturdy pair of boots she
could wear beneath her dresses out on the claim. After making a few
more small purchases, she left the store, balancing several boxes and
brown paper parcels tied with string in her arms.

"Heavens, how can you see where you're going? A clerk should have
carried these home for you." A man took a box and a large package from
her hands so that she could once again see the sidewalk ahead of her.
It was Brent Trevor, the man she'd met in the store.

"Mr. Trevor, thank you."

"Let me walk you home."

She hesitated. He didn't act like the others who offered to do her
favors. He just seemed like a gentleman. Still, she was cautious.
"That's really not necessary."

"It's no trouble. I'm going in the same direction."

"You are?" She thought for a moment. Truthfully, he was right. She
would have a difficult time getting all these parcels home without
dropping any into the muddy street.

"I'm headed for Plum Street."

She must have given him a strange look, because he went on quickly.
"The gentleman at the bank, from whom I purchased the house, said Plum
Street was very quiet and that I'd be well pleased with my neighbors.
He mentioned your name in passing."

"Oh." She nodded as she walked beside him. "No harm in that, I guess."

Mr. Trevor glanced sideways at her. "It's all right, I understand your uneasiness with me."

"You do?"

"I suppose with the silver strike you've been pestered by all sorts of people."

"Sometimes."

"Everyone wants a job. A piece of your interest in the mine."

She sighed. "Exactly. I've been hiring, but I just don't have enough work yet. I can't hire everyone who comes to the site."

"Well, I'll be hiring shortly as well, so feel free to send some of
the miners to me. I've opened a small office on Apple Street. We should
be set up by week's end."

"Thank you. I feel badly turning away men who've come so far. It
will be nice to send them packing with a little encouraging
information."

As they turned onto shady Plum Street, Celeste found herself talking
easily with Mr. Trevor. He knew a great deal about the silver mining
industry. Apparently he hadn't heard of her sordid past and spoke to
her with respect. He obviously found her attractive by the way he
looked at her, but he was nothing but polite and considerate.

Celeste stopped at her front porch and held out her arms to accept
the remainder of her packages. "Thank you so much for your help."

"You're welcome. Have a good day." He didn't ask to come in or
indicate he expected any further contact with her. He tipped his hat
with a slight bow and started back the way they'd come.

Celeste slipped into the house where Fox and her dog would be waiting for her.

"Seven-card stud, ladies and gents," Big Nose Kate said as she dealt.

"Wild?" Celeste asked as she picked up her cards.

"Nothin' but me, sweetheart."

Kate laughed and Sally, Titus, Celeste, and Sheriff Tate laughed
with her. Ace didn't laugh because he didn't hear the joke. Reverend
Tuttle pretended not to hear.

"So how's life in the big silver mine?" Tate asked, his words slightly garbled by the wad of chew in his mouth.

Celeste retrieved another card. "Hell. Nothing is as easy as it
sounds. We've got a tunnel that keeps flooding. We can't get the ore up
and out of the shaft as quickly as we need to. The freighters won't
haul it overland, and we need to have men guarding the claims
twenty-four hours a day to keep claim jumpers away."

"Oh!" Tate moaned dramatically. "The troubles with being rich. We all feel so sorry for you, dear."

Celeste frowned. "You're right, I ought to count my blessings." She
studied her hand. "So, Sally," she said casually. "What's this I hear
about you gettin' yourself a man?"

Silky Sally giggled. She was dressed in a slim lilac gown with her
hair tied up in tiny rags all over her head. "Name's Noah. Noah
Patterson." She peered over the edge of her cards. "Says he wants to
marry me." She giggled again. "Brings me presents. Pays for my whole
night come Saturdays."

Celeste arched her eyebrows. "Goodness. Is he serious?"

She lifted one delicate shoulder. "I'm hopin'."

"Well, ain't that sweet?" Kate complained as she folded. "I won't
have any of my old crew then, unless I'm plannin' on putting Ace here
in silk stockings."

Everyone at the table laughed but Ace and Joash.

"Now, Kate." Celeste tossed in two coins. "I understand you've
brought in two new ladies just this week to go with the three that came
last week."

"It's not the same." Kate took a big bite of Mrs. Tuttle's peach
turnover. Flaky crumbs clung to the corners of her painted mouth. "Not
the same, and you know it. It'll never be the same without you, and
Rosy, and if Sally goes and—"

"And Tall Pearl dead," Sally said softly.

Everyone turned their gazes on Sally.

"I got me a mind to get out of this town while the gettin's good," she continued.

Celeste touched her friend's arm and wondered if Sally had a
premonition. The killer was preying heavily on Celeste's mind these
days, keeping her up at night, as Fox's ghosts did. "Are you afraid,
Sally?"

"Not really." She folded. "I just decided I want to change my occupation. I want to be the wife of a wealthy miner."

"Because if you are afraid, you should get out," Celeste said. "Get out now."

"Hey!" Kate glared at Celeste from across the table, half in jest,
half-serious. "That's my livelihood you're shoo-flyin'. Sally's my most
popular girl."

Celeste glanced back at Sally. Titus had taken the pot with a sweet
pair of kings. "I'm serious. If you want out, you pack up today. Bunk
with your man or come to my house."

"Aw… that's sweet of you." Sally smiled her angel smile. "But I
ain't ready to go anywhere yet. I got my Noah, but I still got my
regulars, too. I want to leave this place with some money of my own. I
don't want Noah ever throwin' it in my face that he rescued a poor girl
from makin' a livin' on her back."

The sheriff chuckled as he shuffled the cards."A man willing to
marry a whore." He shook his head with a sneer. "What's this damned
world coming to?"

With a sigh, Celeste sank into the settee in the parlor and put one
dusty boot up on the arm, not caring if she soiled the emerald velvet.
She rubbed the persistent ache in the small of her back. She'd been
working at the mine since dawn.

Fox was still there. There'd been a problem with the pumps that
brought the water out of the tunnel, and it had to be repaired before
mining could be resumed. The mine had had to be evacuated twice because
of the near boiling water that kept rising from the rock.

She sighed and brushed back the stray hair that fell from her
chignon and over her face. She rubbed her itchy nose. She was filthy.
Even though she rarely actually went down into the mine, she came home
each night covered in a thin layer of dust. It was in her hair and up
her nose. She could taste it in her mouth. Celeste appreciated the
financial security the mine would provide, but she was quickly
discovering that she didn't care for the business itself.

The work was filthy and dangerous to the miners. Though she and Fox
paid their workers very well, she still felt guilty for sending them
down into that steamy black hole. Twenty-four hours a day, they worked
in nothing but cut-off long Johns, digging and hauling her silver ore
in temperatures that sometimes rose five degrees with every thousand
feet of tunnel. Last week Fox had ordered that ice be shipped in each
day. A room had been built off one of the veins of the tunnel to hold
the ice. Men could go there to cool off, get a drink, and find their
breath.