Angel in My Arms (28 page)

Silver wandered into the parlor and Celeste patted her thigh. "Come
here, boy. Come on, old boy. Are you as tired as I am?" Though she and
Fox took the dog with them to the mine each day, if Celeste left first,
Silver always accompanied her home for safety. Fox insisted on it.

The dog licked her hand and wagged his tail with delight as she stroked his back.

"You poor thing. You're as dirty as I am. Better stop riding those buckets down with Fox."

The yellow mutt slumped against the settee as she scratched behind his ears.

"Better stay up above with me," she crooned. "Too hot down there,
and dirty. Don't you know those men have explosives? A doggy like you
ought to have better sense."

Silver's ears perked and he turned away from her to look toward the doorway that led into the foyer.

Celeste glanced up. Maybe Fox was home. He had said he wouldn't be
much longer, but he'd sent her home because she looked so tired.

"Someone there?" she asked the dog.

Silver rose off the blue and green carpet sprinkled with roses.

A knock sounded at the door.

Celeste frowned. Who in heaven could that be? It was too late for
anyone from Kate's to be calling. They were working. And Fox didn't
knock. He had a key.

"Coming," she called out as she dragged herself off the settee. She
hoped it wasn't another miner looking for work, but she knew it was.
Not only did they come to the mine, but now that it had been operating
for three months, they were finding her home as well.

"I'm sorry," she said as she unlatched the door. "We're not hiring.
I can give you the name of a gentleman who—" As she swung open the door
she was surprised to see Brent Trevor standing on her porch with fall
flowers in one hand and his hat in the other. She wasn't really in the
mood for a visitor, but at least it wasn't another man looking for work.

"Good evening, Miss Kennedy."

She leaned on the doorjamb.

Silver stood beside her in the doorway and growled deep in his throat.

Celeste lowered her hand to the dog's head. "It's all right, boy." She smiled tiredly at Brent. "Good evening."

She'd run into Mr. Trevor often in the last few weeks. Occasionally,
he came by her office or stopped by the mine. She saw him at church, in
the stores, and on the street. He was always pleasant and friendly—a
little friendlier than Celeste thought was perhaps appropriate. Surely
he had heard by now that she lived, and no doubt slept, with her
business partner, Fox MacPhearson. Surely he knew by now that she was a
tainted woman. What would his mother think?

"These are for you." He thrust out the flowers.

She took them. "Well, thank you. How kind."

He glanced up at the sky. "Beautiful night tonight. Cool air coming out of the mountains. I think winter may come early."

She glanced up at the starry sky. It was a beautiful night. "Um,
would you care to come in?" She didn't really feel like company. She
felt like a cup of tea and a biscuit, a warm bath, and bed, preferably
in Fox's arms. But she didn't want to be rude.

"Well, just for a moment. I wanted to stop by and see how that piece of equipment I sent over was working out."

She stepped into the foyer and Trevor followed. Silver backed up,
his ears pricked, his teeth bared. Though he made no sound, it was
obvious he didn't care for Mr. Trevor.

Celeste thought it strange that he hadn't contacted Fox about the
equipment. After all, Fox had made the arrangements. Celeste had only
heard about it through him. "I appreciate you sending us the bit. We've
got another one coming by week's end." She set the flowers down on the
shelf beneath the mirror that hung in the foyer and smoothed her dusty
gown. "You'll have to excuse my appearance. I've just now arrived home.
Would you care to sit down?" She motioned to the parlor, half hoping
he'd decline.

"I'd be charmed."

He followed her into the parlor and took a seat on the settee, making an event of leaving room for her.

Celeste chose the horsehair chair opposite the settee. There was
something about Brent Trevor that made her uncomfortable, though she
had no idea why. He was such a pleasant man. Once upon a time she would
have welcomed such a man's attention. A benefactor like Trevor could,
in her working days, have made a woman like her quite comfortable.
Occasionally a whore even caught such a man for a husband. But after
knowing Fox, after caring for him as she did, Celeste knew she could
never be happy with a man like Trevor.

"Working at the mine again today, you say?" Trevor removed his thin
leather gloves. "A pretty woman like yourself has no business at a
mine. What kind of man is Mr. MacPhearson that he demands such of you?"

Celeste looked up through a veil of lashes. "I choose to go to the mine each day, Mr. Trevor."

"Oh, please." He raised a palm. "Call me Brent. And I'd be flattered
if you'd allow me to call you by your Christian name. Celeste. How
heavenly."

Celeste had spent too much time with men not to know when they
crossed the line between a genuine compliment and false flattery. That
was what annoyed her about Brent. He didn't seem quite genuine. Celeste
smiled coolly. "As I was saying,
Brent.
I go to the site
because it's half mine, as is half the responsibility. It would be
unfair to my partner if I didn't accept that responsibility. And you
know yourself that the operation always runs smoother when the owner is
there."

"True. True." He set down his hat and gloves beside him on the
settee. "But a woman in such a filthy, crude environment. Why Mother
hasn't been to my mine once since her arrival in Carrington."

"And how is your digging going? I saw that you sank a shaft the first week… very close to my property line."

She could have sworn he flinched.

He smiled grandly and chuckled."Now aren't you the clever one,
Celeste? And so knowledgeable about the business. A refreshing quality
in a woman so beautiful. So… engaging."

Celeste glanced at the clock that ticked over the mantel. It was after nine and she was exhausted.

He looked at the clock. "Oh, goodness, it is late, isn't it? And I suppose you are tired after your long day."

She rose. "I'm sorry not to be good company, but I'm rather worn
out." She walked toward the foyer, leaving Trevor with no choice but to
politely follow.

He caught up to her at the door. "It was so nice to see you,
Celeste. So nice to spend a few moments with an educated woman like
yourself. Since my arrival in Carrington, I've not had the pleasure of
the company of women like yourself, except for Mother, of course." He
sighed. "And I do so yearn for an evening's respite from the work at
the mine."

Celeste opened the door for him. In her boots, she was two inches
taller than he was. He halted in the door very close to her. Too close
to suit Celeste.

"Which brings me to my actual reason for this call."

Ah ha!
she thought.
At last the reason.
"And that is?"

"Why, to ask you to the show and dinner Friday night. I understand
The Grand Hotel has brought in a fine troupe of actors and that the
comedy is quite amusing." He tried to take her hand, but she was too
fast for him.

Celeste tucked her hands neatly behind her. "I'm sorry, Brent, but I
can't possibly." She smiled sweetly. Never give a reason, her well-bred
mother had taught her. Simply decline a gentleman's offer with a sweet
smile.

He glanced down at his shiny black shoes. She had taken him unaware.
The little twit had apparently expected her to melt in his arms.

"If you have another engagement—"

"I'm sorry, but I'm"—she cleared her throat delicately and then
looked directly into his eyes—"unavailable." She could see that he was
obviously annoyed with her now.

"Mr. MacPhearson?"

"Yes."

He pressed his hand to the doorjamb. "Might I speak frankly, Celeste?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Please."

"It is not that I have not heard of your… past. I know full well where you once worked and what your vocation was."

She made no response.

"I've come as an honest, humble man. Your past is unimportant to me.
Unlike Mr. MacPhearson, though, my intentions are honorable. Do you
understand what I'm trying so delicately to say?"

Celeste wasn't sure whether she was annoyed or amused. "No, I don't think I do."

"I'm saying that I'm interested in courting you… with honest intentions. I would not expect any display of your
affection
without proper… without marriage, Miss Kennedy."

She almost laughed aloud. "I'm sorry, Brent. I'm flattered by your
honesty and your interest, but I can't accept this invitation or any
future invitations." She smiled. "I hope you understand."

He forced a smile in return and dropped his hat on his head. "I… I see."

"But thank you for the flowers," she called after him as she crossed
the porch. "And do call again, when Mr. MacPhearson is available to
visit as well."

Brent's head was down so low that he nearly collided with Fox at the end of the sidewalk.

"Trevor!"

Started, Brent glanced up. "Mr.—Mr. MacPhearson." He tipped his hat
nervously as if he'd been caught with his hand in the licorice jar. "I…
I was just calling on Miss Kennedy. Good to see you." He passed Fox.
"Good evening."

Fox met her in the foyer and closed the door behind him. "What the
hell was he doing here?" He glanced at the flowers on the shelf. "And
why's he bringing you flowers?" He yanked off his hat and tossed it
onto the hook. He was as dusty and tired as she was.

Celeste smiled, secretly pleased. Fox was jealous. Celeste had
always despised any sign of jealousy in a man in the past, but this was
different. Maybe because she'd never before wanted to be possessed.
"Oh, he just wanted to see how the drill bit was working out."

"And he couldn't have asked me when he came by to see me an hour
ago?" He rubbed his temples tiredly. "He must have hightailed it here
to beat me."

So Trevor had known she would be here alone. How interesting. "Oh," she said casually. "He also came by to ask me to The Grand."

"He what?" Fox's head snapped up.

"He asked me to the show and to dinner. He was quite gallant." She batted her eyelashes.

Fox glared. "You accept?"

She laughed. "No."

"Good. Because the man is an imbecile, and I don't trust him as far
as I can toss him. His ore is coming up awfully clean and his shaft is
awfully close to ours."

"You think he's stealing from us underground? Could he have tunneled that far already?"

"I don't think he could make it that far, but my guess is that he's
considering it. He's been too nosy about what's been coming out of our
shaft, and which direction we're tunneling next."

She sighed, reached out, and rubbed his shoulder. Fox often worked
with the men in the mine, shoveling ore beside them. Occasionally he
set the blasts of dynamite that drove a tunnel deeper. The danger of
the work constantly worried Celeste, but Fox felt that he couldn't ask
the men to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself.

"Want something to eat before you bathe?" she asked, still rubbing his tired shoulders.

He shook his head. "Nah. Too tired to be hungry." His gaze met hers. "I can't believe he asked you to go to The Grand with him!"

"He said I was an engaging female."

"Right. What the flea was thinking was that you were about to become a
rich
female," he said sarcastically.

"Why, Fox MacPhearson, I think you're jealous."

He grasped her around the waist and pulled her roughly to him.
"Damned right, I am." He kissed the pulse of her throat where he knew
she liked to be kissed.

"Oh, don't, Fox. I'm filthy."

He kissed a trail along her collarbone as he pulled her
double-breasted bodice down over her shoulders. "Not any dirtier than I
am."

"I know." She struggled, but only halfheartedly. "But I don't like
you to see me like this. I probably smell as bad as those miners."

"I can remedy that." He took her hand and led her down the hallway.

"You can?" She wondered what had gotten into him now.

"Water heated in the hot storage tank?"

"Yes. I was getting ready to take a bath when Trevor stopped by."

He pushed into the bathroom that was as modern as any in Denver. It had been John's pride and joy.

"I
must
be dirty if you're this insistent on seeing I get a bath."

Inside, Fox took her by the arms and backed her into a chair. He went down on one knee. "Give me your boots."

With a button hook, he unhooked the long row of buttons and eased
the black and brown leather boot off her tired foot. He rolled off her
stocking and tossed it over his head.

She sighed with pleasure as he massaged the arch of her foot. "Oh,
that feels wonderful." She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.

He
removed the other boot and stocking, and nibbed the top
of her bare foot and then the bottom, moving upward to her calf. As he
kneaded her tired muscles, she began to relax.

"You shouldn't spoil me like this," she teased. "I'll expect it every night."

He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. As he undid the
buttons on the bodice of her gray and blue work gown, he kissed the
bare skin above her muslin camisole. She rested her hand on his broad
shoulders and stepped out of the gown.

Next came the camisole and French-buckled corset. She sighed as the
restraint was removed and her breasts fell free in his warm hands, not
caring that his hands were dirty. His attentions were exquisite.

Fox removed her underskirt and crinoline and tossed them on the
floor with her soiled clothing. He turned the faucet that ran from the
hot water tank to the porcelain claw tub, then the knob that brought
cool water from a holding tank hand-pumped from the well.