Lover's Gold (16 page)

He moved toward the bedside to awaken the girl, but found her golden eyes open and watching him. He stroked the smooth skin of her cheek. “Morning, pretty lady.”

Elaina smiled, liking the husky sound of his voice, then winced at the pain in her split and swollen lip. Every muscle ached, and she knew how she must look. She touched the bruise beside her eye. It had to be purple and ugly. Her lip was puffy, and she felt a dull throbbing between her legs. But Morgan seemed not to notice her less than perfect appearance. His tanned features glowed with the pleasure of their lovemaking; his eyes held a tender caress. The appreciative way he looked at her lifted her spirits, and she made a second attempt to smile.

“Good morning,” she said.

Morgan kissed the nape of her neck; then, feather-soft, his lips touched the bruise beside her eye.

“How are you feeling?” Concern softened the hard planes of his face.

“I’ve felt better, but I guess I’ll live.”

He smiled down at her, running his hand through her hair. “You’d better get back to your room and dress. We’ve got enough trouble on our hands already,” He winked, and his train of thought was apparent in his eyes.

She glanced around, remembering her circumstances, snatched up the shirt he offered, and donned it quickly. The shirt reached just inches below her bottom.

“You’re a mighty fetching picture in that shirt, Lainey.” He smiled at her teasingly, his blue eyes alight with mischief. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll wind up back in my bed, and I’ll have to fight Dawson all over again.”

She smiled, but the thought sobered her. With a sigh of resignation, she nodded her agreement. She glanced at Morgan. Suddenly all the doubts she’d felt the night before surfaced to weigh her down. Morgan was leaving on the morning train. As she watched him emptying drawers and folding shirts, she knew his plans hadn’t changed. At least he’d been truthful. He’d promised her nothing—now “nothing” seemed a high price to pay.

She swallowed hard. “I guess this is good-bye, then.” He looked up from his packing.

“Good-bye? You don’t think I’m leaving you here with Dawson? Pack whatever you can carry, and we’ll make that morning train.”

Her heart swelled at his words. He wanted her to leave with him. He cared about her after all.

“I can’t take you with me,” he was saying, “at least not all the way. But I’ll take you far enough so Dawson won’t find you. I’ll leave you some money. You can get another job. Make a fresh start.”

She was barely listening. Run away? To where? To what? He was going to leave her alone in some distant town. Some distant world. No. She wasn’t about to run. Keyserville was her home. Chuck had been disgustingly drunk last night, too far gone to worry about where she’d spent the rest of the evening. Odds were, he’d never find out. She remembered the way he acted and shuddered. He’d been out of his mind, and maybe she’d been a little crazy herself.

She looked hard at the tall man strapping his Colt to a sinewy thigh. “I’m not going.”

“We can make it as far as— You’re not what?” Morgan sounded incredulous.

“I said I’m not going.”

He grabbed her arm and jerked her roughly against him, his blue eyes no longer tender, but dark and angry. “Are you out of your mind?” He tugged her over to the mirror. “Take a look at yourself. A good, long look. Next time Dawson might kill you.”

Elaina felt the sting of tears. She looked even worse than she’d imagined. “That’s my business, not yours.” She tried to break his grip, but he held her firmly. She could feel the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of the shirt, and against her will her nipples hardened in response. Her face flamed red, but she didn’t turn away.

He lessened his hold, his eyes riveted to the twin peaks beneath the shirt. He took a ragged breath, trying to maintain his control.

“Listen to me, Elaina, you can’t stay here. Sooner or later Dawson will hurt you again. Next time I won’t be around to stop him. Now please go pack your things. The train will be here in less than an hour.”

Elaina looked up at him. He was so masculine, so handsome in his own rugged way. She wanted to memorize each line of his face, etch the look in his light eyes so deep in her heart she could never forget him. She wasn’t going with him. Wasn’t going to let him discard her in some unknown town on his way back to whatever life he’d had before. If she decided to leave Keyserville, it would be in her own time, on her own terms.

She remembered their night together, the feel of his body, the gentleness of his touch. The thought of never seeing him again tore at her heart, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and denied the tears that threatened to betray her. Running her fingertips over the taut, bronzed skin of his cheeks, she rose on tiptoe to gently cover his warm lips with a kiss. She could feel his heartbeat quicken, feel him stiffen with desire where his body pressed against hers.

He broke the contact. “Damn you, Lainey! There isn’t time for this—at least not right now. Go get your things. I’ll meet you out behind the hotel in twenty minutes.” He spun her around. “Now scoot.” He smacked her bottom, bare beneath the shirt, and she smiled at him over her shoulder as she hurried through the door.

She paused only for a moment. “Good-bye, Dan Morgan.”

“Hurry,” he murmured behind her retreating figure.

As she walked down the hall, she added the rich timbre of his deep voice to the many memories she would treasure, then quietly shoved open the door to her room.

Morgan checked his watch for the tenth time. Where could she be? He heard the train coming, its engine bellowing, black smoke darkening the sky in small puffs that drifted toward the station. He couldn’t wait much longer. Deciding to see if she was still in her room, he headed toward the back porch of the hotel. Before he reached it, a window on the third floor opened and Elaina stuck her head out.

“Don’t miss your train, Dan Morgan,” she called down to him.

“Damn!” He cursed her and all crazy females from here to hell and gone. Clenching his jaw, he looked up at her. Golden rays of sunlight shone on her hair, turning it to molten umber. Her ruby lips were parted in a smile of triumph, but her tawny eyes hinted at sadness. He wished he could hold her one last time.

“You won’t change your mind?”

She shook her head.

“I may not be back.”

“I know.” She pulled a lavender ribbon from her hair. It floated on the gentle breeze, hung suspended a moment above him, then drifted to his feet. He stooped to pick it up, feeling the softness of the velvet crushed against his palm. He pushed his broad-brimmed black hat back on his head to look up at her more carefully. Even with the bruises on her face, she looked lovely. He could still see the blush of his kisses on her tempting ruby lips. Her eyes seemed wistful, as if there was something more she wanted to say, something of herself she still wished to give. He thought he caught the glint of a tear.

“You’d better go,” she said. “You’ll miss your train.”

He nodded and stuffed the ribbon carefully into his pocket. Turning to leave, he took a last glance over his shoulder. A tightness gripped his chest till he could barely breathe.

“Take care of yourself,” he called a little too gruffly. He pulled his hat back to its usual place across his brow.

“Don’t forget me.” Her voice floated melodiously on the cool morning air.

He didn’t answer. He knew he would never forget.

Chapter 12

“
I
MAY NOT
be back
.”

The words echoed through Elaina’s mind the remainder of that day and into the next.

Another woman might have been saddened by the words, but it was Elaina’s nature to look to the good side of things. He could have said “I won’t be back” or “I can’t come back.” Instead he’d said “I may not be back.” To Elaina that meant he just might return.

She’d decided to speak with Henry Dawson about her engagement to Chuck. Surely, when Henry saw the ugly bruise on her face, he would reprimand Chuck and release her from her promise. She’d just have to find some other way to repay her family’s debts.

Both Chuck and Henry had been conspicuously absent from the hotel ever since the party. She was certain Chuck must be feeling terribly guilty for the way he’d acted. Henry, she was sure, if he knew about the incident, was giving her time to cool down. Well, sooner or later, they’d have to face her again, and when they did, she’d tell them the marriage was off.

Just having made the decision gave Elaina a whole new outlook on life. She hummed as she worked this morning. Until her bruises healed, Ada had allowed her to work upstairs, do a little cleaning away from the hustle of activity in the dining room. Elaina welcomed the opportunity.

Wearing a faded gingham dress, her hair tied back with a pale blue kerchief, Elaina immersed herself in her work. She cleaned and swept Morgan’s now empty room and tried not to remember the warmth she’d felt in his arms just nights before. As she stripped the sheets from the paint-chipped iron bed, she flushed at the dark red stain that gave testimony to her lost virtue. Instead of the remorse she knew she should feel, she felt only loneliness and a desire to be back in Morgan’s arms.

She pushed the thought away and knelt beside the bed to sweep beneath. A knock at the door interrupted her. Ada peeked in, a look of consternation lining her usually smiling face.

“I got somethin’ to show ya,” Ada said. “I was cleanin’ a room downstairs. The room your friend Morgan slept in the night before he was shot. When I lifted the mattress, these fell through the slats. I’ll be hanged if I know what to make of ’em, but I figured you would.” She handed Elaina a small leather address book and several bits of paper.

Elaina stood up, accepting the papers, her interest aroused by the tiny leather-bound book in her hand. A faded yellow newspaper clipping, worn from being folded and carried between the pages of the book, protruded from the edges. Several calling cards with the name Reynold Lee Daniels engraved in plain black letters with an address in San Francisco made up the balance of the information.

She swallowed hard. What would Ren’s calling cards be doing in Morgan’s room? Surely he couldn’t have known him. Could they be related? Half brothers? Or cousins? Even as she asked the questions, her mind knew the answer. Dear God, please tell me he didn’t lie. With a trembling hand, Elaina pulled the newspaper article from among the pages of the tiny book and began to read.

As the words formed pictures in her mind, her hand crept to the base of her throat. She didn’t realize she was crying until a teardrop darkened a tiny spot on the paper. She could feel the erratic beating of her heart as she scanned the article a second time. It was dated February 10, 1878, and had been published in the
Daily Alta California
, San Francisco.

Jacob Stanhope of San Francisco has announced the engagement of his daughter, Melissa, to Reynold Lee Daniels of that same city. The wedding is scheduled for May 23 at Saint Jude’s Church. The ceremony will be followed by a gala reception in the gardens of the Stanhope estate on Nob Hill. All of San Francisco society is expected to attend.

“You better sit down, honey,” Ada cautioned. “You look kinda pale.”

Elaina could only nod. The lump in her throat threatened to squeeze off her breath as Ada guided her to a seat on the bed. Why had she listened to him? Believed him? She’d known he was Ren Daniels from the very first day, but he’d lied to her, denied he ever knew her. Her vision blurred, and fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. The wedding was set for May 23. Morgan—no, Ren Daniels—would be returning to San Francisco just in time.

“What’s it mean?” Ada asked, reaching gently for Elaina’s trembling hand.

“Oh, Ada, I’m such a fool.” Her voice caught in her throat as she looked at the gray-haired woman who was always there when she needed her. “He wasn’t Dan Morgan after all. He was Ren. Ren Daniels, the boy—I mean the man I told you about.”

“Well, what if he is this Ren fella? That don’t make him any less a man, now, does it?” Ada had rarely seen her friend in such a state and, wily old fox that she was, had a pretty good notion as to the cause. A glance at the dark stain on Morgan’s sheets, carelessly tossed into a pile on the floor, confirmed her suspicions.

“Did you read the clipping?” Elaina whispered.

Ada took a deep breath. “Yes, I did, and, honey, I still think Mr. Morgan—Mr. Daniels is a good man. I don’t think he’da done you wrong on purpose. He didn’t know any more than you did who he was.”

“He knew the first day, Ada. He knew, but he lied to me.” Elaina glanced away, but not before Ada had seen the misery in her friend’s golden eyes.

“Life’s never easy, Laina honey. Sometimes things just ain’t meant to be.”

“Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?” Elaina said softly.

“Sure, honey. Try not to fret yerself. Few men are worth it.” Shaking her head, Ada pulled the door closed.

Elaina read the newspaper clipping a third time: “All of San Francisco society is expected to attend.” God, what a laughingstock she’d made of herself. She’d prayed he wouldn’t forget her. Now he was sure to remember the girl he’d made of fool of back in Carbon County. She clung to the edge of the bed and tried to control her breathing. If only he’d told her the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened. She could have told him who he was, helped him to remember.

But would knowing he was Ren have changed things? Would she have cared that he was betrothed to another? Remembering his kiss and the touch of his hand, she wasn’t so sure.

Elaina clutched the article to her breast and crumpled across the bed. Dear God, how could this have happened? Deep racking sobs shook her. Why had he come back? Why couldn’t he have stayed out of her life? Her chest constricted, and her heart ached as though she’d been stabbed. She remembered the way he’d defended her, comforted her, the regret she'd seen in his eyes when they parted, the sadness in his husky voice. How could they all have been lies? The Ren she’d loved as a child would never have lied to her.