Midnight Lover (26 page)

He called Judge Fitzgerald into the room and she listened, dumbfounded, as Reardon outlined his plan. Caroline would promise not to sell the mine out from under his nose during the course of their marriage. Reardon would do nothing to stand in the way of her renovation of the Crazy Arrow. And, for their mutual safety, Reardon would receive absolutely none of her money or property if Caroline should die; likewise, she would not profit if he should be found dead.

Think of it! her mind demanded. This is your one and only chance to make the Crazy Arrow into the wonder you believe it can be. With Reardon's seal of approval, Silver Spur would be at her disposal, rather than at her throat. He had even promised that the moment the railroad made her a fair offer for the property surrounding the mine, he would cease all work and withdraw his claim, asking only twenty percent of the proceeds.

It was a reasonable civilized solution, one that would make the Founding Fathers back in Boston proud. A marriage between them was good business, that was all, an insurance policy against an early demise.

"I'm waitin', darlin'," said Jesse as he and the Judge watched her closely. "What's your answer going to be?"

"Yes,"
she said, meeting his midnight-blue gaze. "I'll marry you, Mr. Reardon."

Chapter 14

Emily Addison's annual Independence Day soiree was well underway when Thomas came downstairs. The notes of a popular waltz and the restrained laughter of Boston's finest families floated out from the marble-and-gilt ballroom and Thomas paused at the doorway for a moment and listened to the sounds of his past.

It was part of him, that stately elegance and refined sense of heritage; there was nothing he could do to change the fact that he was an Addison from the tips of his shoes to the top of his head. Being an Addison used to be enough.

Without Caroline Bennett in his life, it no longer was.

Thoughts of Caroline clawed at his heart every moment of his day while dreams of her burned through his brain each night. He tried to quench the fire in his blood with whiskey and rum but nothing had been able to douse the flames of the passion he had for her.

The only way to do that was to have her. To possess her body and soul, but even then he doubted he would ever be free of her spell.

Tomorrow was his twenty-fifth birthday, the day he came into his inheritance. His bags were packed. His railroad tickets had been purchased. All that remained was a trip to the Addison family solicitor in the morning and he would be on his way west.

On his way to claim Caroline for his own.

#

The wedding was set for nine o'clock that night. The fireworks would be well underway and both Caroline and Jesse felt they would be able to gather at the Crazy Arrow where Judge Fitzgerald would perform the ceremony without attracting attention.

"Clasping the enemy to your bosom, you are, miss, if you don't mind me sayin' so. I beg you to be thinkin' what it is you're about to do." Abby's hazel eyes were dark with worry as she helped Caroline into the yellow muslin dress. It was a beautiful dress, dipping low at the neckline and fitting close to her bosom and waist, and she had always loved it. But never once had she imagined it would be her wedding gown.

Caroline lifted her blonde hair off her neck so Abby could fasten the last of the mother of pearl buttons. "I have done nothing but think about my decision these past few hours, Abby, and I can see no other way."

"Jesse Reardon's the devil incarnate, miss. Mark my words."

"It's done, Abby." Caroline sat down at her dressing table and shook out her long mane of blonde hair. "I have made my decision and I hope you will honor it by keeping this marriage the secret it must be."

Abby picked up Caroline's silver hairbrush and set to work pinning her employer's hair into a graceful upsweep. "I'll honor it, but don't be expecting me to like it, miss."

Caroline chuckled nervously. "I don't like it myself, Abby. How can I ask you to feel otherwise?"

"I'm afraid for you, miss."

"Don't be. Nothing will happen to me. If this marriage accomplishes nothing else, it will ensure that." She explained the document Judge Fitzgerald had prepared for them to sign after the ceremony.

Abby's lower lip trembled and she sank down onto the bed. "What kind of a wedding is this then, when talk of business comes before talk of love?"

"I'll tell you what kind of wedding this is!" Caroline spun around, blue eyes flashing with anger. "This is a business arrangement, plain and simple; there is no love involved, Abby, and there never will be."

"Your father must be spinnin' in his grave."

"More than likely," said Caroline. "And you can see where love got him."

Not for Caroline—the mistakes of her father. She would enter into this business arrangement with her eyes open and the door to her heart firmly locked. Let Reardon re-open the mine. It didn't matter, for now her way would be clear to turn the Crazy Arrow Saloon into the hotel she'd envisioned. Marriage to Reardon would make that possible; while, the document would make it possible to sleep at night.

She expected nothing more.

#

Seemed like the whole damned town was milling around in front of the King of Hearts as Jesse got ready for his secret wedding. It was a shade after half-past eight and holiday excitement ran high outside. Black Jack's piano music mingled with the raucous sound of the brass band that was entertaining a crowd down by the shiny new Liberty Bell that had been dedicated earlier that day. Whiskey and beer flowed like the Colorado River and tomorrow morning there'd be hell to pay. Right now, however, nobody was thinking about tomorrow.

"You comin', Jesse?" Sam hollered up from the bar. "Fireworks're set to start up real soon."

"Hold your horses, Markham. I'm comin'."

He'd have himself a whiskey or two with Sam then once they started shooting the rockets up into the sky, he'd slip away to the Crazy Arrow. Damnation. It was really going to happen. All he knew was that the old Rayburn mine had better have a band of ore wider than the Mother Lode or he'd know the reason why.

He fastened his cufflinks, took a last look at himself in the mirror and left the room for the last time as a bachelor.

Who the hell would have believed it?

#

"Miss Caroline." Judge Fitzgerald looked up as she entered the parlor at the Crazy Arrow. "Time is a'wasting. The wife and I would like to get this ceremony under way so we can enjoy the fireworks with Doc Willoughby."

Judge Fitzgerald's wife stood to the right of her husband and she motioned for Abby to join her. Abby met Caroline's eyes as if to say, "There is still time to change your mind," but Caroline merely gestured for Abby to do as she'd been asked.

Caroline's skirts rustled softly as she took her place next to Jesse Reardon. This is my wedding day, she thought, and this man is going to be my husband. There in that run-down parlour she was about to pledge her life into the hands of a man who wanted nothing more than to rob her blind. The plan that had seemed so inspired a few minutes ago up in her room, now seemed dangerous and doomed to failure.

"Evenin', Car-o-line," Reardon drawled softly. "Ready?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Reardon smelled of soap and hair tonic and she saw in an instant that he had taken time to shave. He wore dark trousers and a crisp white shirt; his golden cufflinks twinkled by the light of the gas lamp on the side table. An odd swelling of emotion suddenly blossomed inside her chest, making it hard to draw a steady breath.

Foolishness! This was a business arrangement, plain and simple—same as she'd told Abby—and she was not going to behave like a featherbrained female and let herself believe it was anything but what it was.

The judge cleared his throat, adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, then fixed Caroline and Jesse with a look. "Shall we begin?"

Jesse looked at Caroline. "Ready, darlin'?"

She nodded, mute.

"Dearly Beloved," the judge intoned, "we are gathered here together to unite this man and this woman in the holy bonds of matrimony..."

A loud crack of thunder rumbled through the open window, quickly followed by a dazzling display of silver and red and blue glitter scattered across the night sky.

"...I, Jesse, take thee, Caroline, as my lawful wedded wife..."

The floor shook as another barrage of fireworks exploded, calling to mind the hated storms that always managed to undermine her courage. The deafening report echoed in Caroline's ears and she swallowed hard against a rising tide of anxiety.

"...I, Caroline, take thee, Jesse...to have and to hold...to honor and obey...until death do us part." Was that her voice, that soft uncertain whisper?

"The ring." Judge Fitzgerald looked at Reardon. "We need a ring for your bride."

To Caroline's amazement, Reardon's face reddened and he looked as close to apologetic as it was possible for a man like him to look.

"I don't—"

"Here!" Abby scooted over and Caroline saw her press something shiny into his hand. "Use this."

The look of relief on Reardon's face inexplicably tore at Caroline's heart. This is no more real than a Confederate dollar. It is business and nothing more.

Judge Fitzgerald instructed Jesse to take Caroline's hand in his and she trembled at his touch.

"Repeat after me, Jesse: With this ring, I thee wed."

Jesse's midnight blue eyes met hers and held her captive. "With this ring, I thee wed." His voice held a note of unexpected tenderness that was almost her undoing and she wished she had the power to look away as he slipped the tarnished silver band on her finger.

"By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife."

From the street came the blare of the brass band, followed closely by another wild burst of fireworks, as if all of Silver Spur were celebrating this bogus union. Abby sniffled loudly and Mrs. Fitzgerald dabbed at her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. The left side of Jesse's mouth lifted in an approximation of a smile. Tradition demanded the groom kiss the bride, and for a moment Caroline wondered if he would kiss her to seal the bargain. She still remembered his kiss, that delightful pressure of his lips against hers, and she wondered how it would be to feel that kiss again, now that they were legally wed.

"Car-o-line?" His voice was all smoke and honey.

"Yes?" Her own voice was but a whisper.

"Let's sign that damn agreement. I got me a party to get to."

To her horror, her eyes filled with tears and she looked away rather than let him see her humiliation. "Yes, Mr. Reardon," she said at last. "Let's sign that agreement."

#

"Are you certain, miss?" Abby hovered near the door to Caroline's room. "You be lookin' a bit peaked to me, if you don't mind me sayin' so."

"I'm certain, Abby." Caroline waved her hand in what she hoped was her best cavalier fashion. "I shall be fine."

"You wouldn't be used to spirits, miss. I'd be thinkin' twice before having another rum."

Caroline lifted her chin indignantly. "I am twenty-three years old, Abby. Almost a quarter-century as you are so fond of reminding me. Certainly I should be able to hold my rum at this late date."

"It wouldn't be the end of the world, miss. 'Tis a business arrangement like you told me and nothing more."

"I know, Abby." She looked at the tarnished ring on her left hand then eased it off her finger and handed it back to her fiercely loyal maid. "Thank you for this but I won't be needing it any longer."

"I wouldn't be mindin' if you kept it."

"No." Caroline was adamant. "It isn't necessary."

She was married in name only. Rings were for the bride who could shout her happiness to the world, not for a counterfeit bride whose marriage papers would be locked away in a bank vault, far from prying eyes.

"Is there anything else I can be doin' for you, miss?"

"You can stop looking so worried." Caroline gave the girl a quick hug. "Now, off with you, Abigail O'Brien."

"You'll be alright, miss?"

She nodded. "Go, Abby. I'll be fine."

The door closed behind Abby and Caroline was alone with her rum at last. The ruffled curtains at her window billowed with the night breeze as moonlight danced across the wooden floor.

"A perfect night for romance," she said aloud, pouring herself a tumbler of spirits. A perfect wedding night spent alone with a bottle of rum in a house filled with spinsters. It simply couldn't be more perfect, now could it? She was Caroline Bennett, the woman who didn't want a husband or a family; the woman who had never once dreamed of white lace dresses and a rose-covered cottage.