Midnight Lover (16 page)

"Then why did you come here?" she asked bluntly. "From what you've told me, I am in an impossible situation."

"Not if I help you, Miss Bennett. From what I heard, you ain't opening another saloon here and that's real sweet music to my ears. When the railroad comes through, I can be the busiest place within two hundred miles."

"That's wonderful, but—"

Jade raised an imperious hand. "But if Jesse owns the land, he ain't gonna sell and if he don't it means trouble for us both."

"I thought the mine was worthless. I thought—"

"He's out to rob you blind, missy, and the quicker you understand that, the better." Her cat-like eyes narrowed as she looked at Caroline. "Land is everything, missy. You best remember that."

Caroline's face burned with shame. How she had flattered herself into thinking he had been interested in her face and form when all the time it was only figures in ledger that interested him.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said. "If you hadn't come over this way, he might have sold the mine out from under me and pocketed the money." The lovely Oriental woman shrugged like a cowboy. "No thanks necessary," she said, heading for the door. "Just didn't want to see you gettin' your heart broke or your pocket picked by Jesse Reardon. Let him buy what he wants at the Golden Dragon—you just make sure you keep what belongs to you."

#

Too easy, a small voice whispered as Jade walked out the door. Bennett's daughter had simply looked at her with those big blue eyes and listened to everything Jade said as if it were the sermon on Sunday morning. The girl's daddy had been addle-brained but even he had understood that everything had its price; Caroline, however, didn't seem to understand.

Jade's heart thundered beneath her silk dress as she left the Crazy Arrow but she managed to keep a pleasant smile on her face. In all the years she'd known Jesse Reardon, she'd never once betrayed him and now here she was, selling him down the river to a gal still wet behind the ears. But if there was one thing she was sure about, it was that the Rayburn mine had to remain closed.

Jesse'd been talking a lot lately about getting him a crew and some hard rock miners. That was the last thing on earth she could let happen when she was so close to having everything she'd ever wanted.

Hidden deep within that abandoned mine was a stack of gold and silver she'd been accumulating since long before Aaron Bennett came to town and foolishly bought the tapped out mine from a shrewd businessman who knew a sucker when he saw one. Oh, Aaron had been filled with grandiose schemes about how he was going to make himself a fortune but Jade had known he was just a buckboard prospector scanning his belongings from the front seat.

He hadn't even been worth the energy it took to worry about his dreams one day coming true. Jade had enough to worry about with the stages getting harder and harder to hit without giving her identity away. The sun-crazed prospector guise could only last so long before the law became wise to it and she had felt she was coming to the end of that scheme even before Aaron Bennett came on the scene.

Jade's band of thieves were legendary; their exploits were touted in newspapers from Chicago to San Francisco and still not one of them had been apprehended.

Only Bennett had even come close to discovering the truth. Was it any wonder he'd had to die. There'd been no other way to handle it, no other way to make sure that when it was time to leave Silver Spur, she'd have enough money to give Jesse Reardon everything he ever wanted. Soon enough Caroline Bennett would figure it out, but by that time Jade and Jesse would be long gone and none of it would matter.

#

No sooner had Jade disappeared into the Golden Dragon across the street than Caroline set out to do battle with the conniving Mr. Reardon. She stormed through the kitchen and, ignoring Abby's questions, grabbed her wrap from the coat hook in the bar room and left.

The King of Hearts Saloon was at the opposite end of the sunbaked street. Anger burned so fiercely inside her that she scarcely noticed the heat rippling up from the dirt road as she made her way past the cowboys and prospectors and horses lounging around. Usually she paused to stare up at the huge bronze bell that held the place of honor in the center of town but today not even that huge, cracked symbol of freedom could divert her attention.

The crowd of whiskey-loving gamblers in the saloon itself failed to daunt her and, head held high, she strode past them and flung open the door to Reardon's office without so much as knocking first. Let him see how it felt to be caught off-guard at least once in his life...

"Mr. Reardon, I—" Once again Jesse Reardon had managed to get the upper hand in a situation without so much as moving a muscle. He was seated in a big brown leather chair, being attended to by two lovely red
-haired women; one was trimming his shaggy sun-bleached hair while the other carefully wielded a straight edge razor along the strong curve of his jaw.

He was bare-chested; his tanned skin glistened as if he'd just bathed. Dear God, he looked for all the world like the replica of the statue of David she'd seen years ago at a museum in Boston, more male and beautiful than she could have imagined possible. He seemed to fill the room with the sheer force of his extraordinary physical presence and she gathered her wits about her with difficulty.

"I want to talk to you," Caroline said, trying not to notice the thatch of dark curls that made their way across his abdomen and disappeared below his belt line.

Jesse grinned that lazy sardonic grin she'd come to know. "Later."

"Now!" Caroline stepped closer until she caught the scent of his skin mingled with the shaving soap. The two girls continued about their business as if she were invisible. It was quite galling and she longed to put them in their places.

"I'm busy," said Reardon, patting one of the girls on the derriere in a shockingly intimate manner. "Just don't have the time."

"Make time."

"Are all Boston ladies bossy like you?"

"Yes," she snapped, trying hard not to stare as he stood up and that magnificent torso of his came into full view. "And worse."

He snapped his fingers and the two women hurried away, taking the shaving paraphernalia with them. Such a display of raw male power was quite impressive and Caroline knew that if she weren't so furious, she would be scared out of her wits. Reardon grinned and reached for the box of cigars atop his desk and flipped the lid open.

"Don't suppose you'd care for one?"

"I do not find your attempt at humor very amusing, Mr. Reardon."

Still bare-chested, he sat on the edge of his desk and bit off the end of his cigar. "I don't find being barged in on very amusing, Miss Bennett." His imitation of a Boston accent was wickedly on target.

She ignored him. "I want to know about my father's mine."

Was she imagining the flicker of shock on his face?

"Where did you hear about that?"

"Jade."

He lit the cigar. "You can't believe everything Jade says, Car-o-line. Jade gets bored real easy and she likes to kick up a ruckus every now and again to see what happens."

"I believe her, and I want to know where that mine is."

Those dark midnight blue eyes of his traveled the length of her body, lingering over her hips, her breasts, making it hard for her to draw an even breath. He put the cigar down on the edge of his desk and walked toward her until he was so close she could feel the heat from his body, and remember the hard exciting feel of it pressed against hers beneath the stagecoach.

Caroline took a step backward.

Jesse advanced. She took another step then another until she found herself pressed up against the door, the brass doorknob digging into the base of her spine. He stopped so close to her that her breasts grazed his chest with each breath she took. He looked so threatening, so thrillingly male, that for a moment she wondered why on earth she'd ever thought herself strong enough to fight him when all she longed for was the touch of his lips against hers.

"I scare you, don't I, Caroline?" His words were gently mocking, a challenge.

"You flatter yourself, Mr. Reardon." Amazing how confident she sounded when her legs trembled beneath the heavy folds of her skirt and threatened to give way. "I am afraid of nothing."

"Except me." He drew his hand along her throat then touched her cheek.

If only she were back in Boston where arrogant men found their faces slapped for such bold displays of rudeness. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of the wilderness where the rules of decorum meant nothing, a place where a man simply took what he wanted, consequences be damned.

"We have business at the mine," she said, regaining her poise while the memory of his touch burned through her mind.

He drew away from Caroline, a half-smile on his face and grabbed his shirt from the back of the brown leather chair.

"You're right, pretty lady, we do have business, and one day soon we'll get around to finishin' it." Reaching behind her, he opened the door then grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the hallway.

"Please, Mr. Reardon! I cannot walk as fast as you."

He ignored her.

"Mr. Reardon!" she exclaimed as he pulled her through the gaming room to the amusement of a group of high-stakes poker players. "How dare you manhandle me this way! A simple request to vacate your premises would have been sufficient."

"Don't you never shut up, woman?" He propelled her down the stairs of the King of Hearts Saloon and if the pungent smells were any indication, they were headed toward the stables around back. "I'm givin' you what you want: we're going to the Rayburn mine."

Chapt
er 9

The barn was cool and shady and if it hadn't been for the large black stallion pawing the ground restlessly as they approached, Caroline might not have minded being there for the relief from the heat was most welcome. But, as it was, the stallion whinnied with excitement as Jesse patted his forehead and she gasped at the sight of the horse's enormous yellow teeth just inches away from her face. It was a far cry from the sedate prancing horses at Master Ellington's Stables.

"This is Diablo," Jesse said, obviously proud. "Come over here and rub his nose."

"That is a monster," said Caroline, refusing to move any closer. "I'd sooner rub a rattlesnake."

"Spoken by a woman who ain't never seen a rattlesnake."

He pulled a half carrot from his back pocket and fed it to the horse. "Diablo's the best damn animal west of the Mississippi."

"How wonderful for him." She glanced around nervously. "I do not see a carriage."

"Mighty observant, Car-o-line."

"We're walking to the mine?"

"Ain't likely with you in those flimsy shoes."

Her stomach tightened. "Surely you do not expect me to ride that beast."

"They didn't teach you to ride in those fancy schools your daddy sent you to?"

"Of course they did," she retorted, "but we rode normal horses, not giants."

Reardon grinned, his teeth gleaming whitely in the morning sunshine, and pointed toward a huge chestnut peering out from a stall. "Why don't I saddle up Old Jimmy for you."

"You have an English saddle?" she inquired politely.

"American. Best saddle maker in Kansas City made it special."

She tried again. "Side saddle?"

"What the hell kind of man would be caught dead ridin' side saddle?"

"I am not a man, Mr. Reardon. In case you are not familiar with the custom, most ladies ride side saddle."

Please, dear God, don't let him own an English saddle. Don't force me to ride atop one of those monsters...

"Not in Silver Spur they don't."

Thank you, God, for keeping ladies away from Silver Spur! "Be that as it may, I can ride no way else." She could barely contain the elation in her voice. "We must take a carriage." One of those lovely little carriages like she'd seen Jade riding around in, with two prancing white horses whose tails danced in the wind.

Jesse's expression grew darker and even more dangerous. "I ain't gonna be caught dead bumpin' down Main Street in some fussy little Irish baby buggy." He yanked down a saddle from the wall and positioned it on the horse. "You want to see the mine, you're gonna see it from the back of a horse." He gestured over his shoulder toward the chestnut who eyed them from the stall. "My dead grandmother could ride Old Jimmy."

"And she would have my blessings. I, however, insist upon a carriage."

He ignored her and continued fiddling around with the straps and fixings that kept the saddle on that monster he called a horse.

"I'm not asking for a stagecoach, Mr. Reardon. A simple trap would be sufficient." She hesitated a moment then gave in to a dangerous impulse. "I'm sure Diablo would be able to pull such a small conveyance, aren't you?"

Reardon muttered something quite colorful and foreign to her ears, then grabbed Diablo's reins and led the horse outside with Caroline right behind him.