Miracle Jones (40 page)

“Miracle…” He broke off, astounded by the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
He’d never seen her cry, hadn’t believed it was possible.

“I’m sorry,” she said brokenly, and then wept as if her heart were torn in two.

“I love you, Miracle.” He didn’t wait.
He pulled her to him and let her cry against his chest.
“I love you.”

“How can you?
All I’ve done is cause you trouble.
Look at your arm!
It’s bleeding because of
me.
And I –”

“Shut up,” he said, kissing her.

“I’m a half-breed.
No one will accept me.
I can’t be your mistress, yet I can’t live without you.
I’m not a lady, but I’ve got my pride.”

“You are a lady.
My lady.”

She shook her head.
Too many times in the past she’d let herself believe the impossible.
Just because Gil was dead didn’t change anything between her and Harrison.
“No white man would ever marry a half-breed, and I can’t settle for anything else.”

“Well, I want to marry you.
I
asked
you to marry me once.”

Miracle’s eyes rounded.
It was a trick.
She didn’t believe it.
“You only proposed because you felt guilty.”

“Is that what you thought?” He was amazed.
“I proposed because I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you.
You
turned me down.”

“Because I’m half-Indian, and no white man –”

He stopped her with a kiss, his lips curving in laughter against hers.
Pulling back, he said, “It’s never mattered to me that you’re half-Indian.
Why should I care?” At her incredulous look, he added, “It’s the half-Garrett part that worries me.
In case you haven’t noticed, Danners and Garretts don’t get along.”

“Are you really serious about marrying me?” she demanded.

“Lady, the way you wield the knife, I’d be crazy to propose and not follow through.
Yes, I’m serious.
And I want to marry you right away and move into the house I’m building for us.
Now, can you stand to be married to a white man?”

Joy unwound slowly inside her.
“Give me a minute to think about it,” she said, then laughed when he kissed her thoroughly again.

Epilogue

One month later, on a cold, bright December morning, everybody who was anybody in Rock Springs showed up at the church to offer congratulations and best wishes to the bride and groom.
The mayor, a personal friend of the Garretts, wore his same black suit with its same black and gray striped waistcoat.
Sheriff Raynor, a personal friend of the Danners, smiled at the assemblage, his string tie pulled away from his throat so he could be more comfortable.
The ladies of the Ladies Aid Society wore taffeta, satin, even silk, and stood, as ever, in an uncompromising line on the church steps.
But their sour faces and gossipy tongues had turned from Miracle, who was marrying a Danner, to Kelsey Garrett, who had run off without a word to anyone, the little renegade!
And Isabella, that tart, had taken up with some lumberjack and left her baby to her mother’s care.
And Lexington Danner was with child again though she was nearing thirty year’s old.
No, the scandal surrounding Miracle Jones was nothing compared to the choices of those other women.

Jason Garrett and his mean-tempered wife had only come because the Danners had worked so hard to save the Garrett farm.
Neither wanted to be there.
They hated the Danners, and they would never allow that Miracle might be related to them.

Uncle Horace was resplendent in his one good suit, his gold tooth winking in the weak winter sunlight.
Beside him, as prim and proper a spinster as you were ever likely to see, was Emily Darcy, Miracle’s “aunt.” She barely cracked a smile, yet her gaze turned indulgent whenever she glanced at Harrison Danner, the man who would soon be marrying her niece.

All the rest of the Danners were there except for one notable exception: Jesse.
It was as if the black sheep of the Danner family had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Alone, in the backroom of the church, Miracle viewed her reflection in the tiny mirror on the wall.
She wore the cream lace gown Mrs.
Weatherby had made for her.

I did have a place to wear it after all,
she thought with a radiant smile.

A muffled knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” she called.
Was it time to go?

Her husband-to-be slipped inside the room.

“What are you doing here?” Miracle demanded.
“You’re not supposed to see me until after were married!
It’s unlucky!”

“What do I care about luck?
Come here.”

Miracle glared at him, at the outstretched arms that reached out for her.
“Curse and rot you, Harrison Danner!
Can’t you and I do anything right?”

“I know of one thing,” he reminded her pointedly, arching a brow.

Miracle slipped into the shelter of his arms.
In ten minutes she would be Mrs.
Harrison Danner.
“I suppose there is that one thing,” she admitted and pulled his face down for a kiss that smothered back their laughter.

An excerpt from
JESSE’S RENEGADE

Portland, Oregon

August 1892

Jesse Danner grinned his devil-may-care grin and bent his head to the blond-haired beauty seated in front of the oval dressing table.
Her black eyes snapped at him in total outrage, and his grin widened.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispered in a sexy drawl.

Lila Hathaway snorted inelegantly and shrugged against the hands resting lightly on her shoulders.
Damn the man.
She wanted to kill him.

His teeth flashed white beneath the brim of his battered Stetson, a gift from one of his brothers years before, or so he explained when she declared the hat offensive.
In the mirror’s reflection his blue eyes danced with merriment.
The scourge was enjoying her rage and jealousy!
Yes, she wanted to kill him.
She
would
kill him.

“You’re a scoundrel,” she hissed, combing her luxurious mane with studied sensuality.
Her peignoir was silver and shimmered in the light from the overhead chandelier, outlining her sumptuous curves.
Lila knew her effect on men, and with that thought planted firmly in mind she purposely stroked her long hair, hoping Jesse would succumb to her sexuality rather than leave before her plans could take effect.

She was furious.
Livid!
How dare he run out on her!
When he’d told her he was leaving at the end of the week, he’d sealed his fate.
Before that she’d been hatching plans to keep Montana from finding him, but now she hoped her husband would rip Jesse’s lean body in two!
Savoring her revenge, it took all of Lila’s concentration not to smile.
A few more minutes… that’s all she needed.

“It won’t be long— maybe a couple of weeks before I wind up everything in California,” Jesse told her, oblivious to her anger.
“By then I’ll own that Portland park block.
When I come back, we can pick up where we left off.”

His voice was full of amusement.
Amusement at her expense!
Damn his eyes!
He’d be sorry.
“I don’t have a couple of weeks,” she said bitterly.

“Why not?”

She swung around the stool, her chin lifting defiantly.
“Because my husband will be back by then.”

“Your
husband?”
Jesse stared at her incredulously.
Twenty-five, successful, and worldly-wise beyond his years, Jesse was seldom, if ever, caught off guard.
And never by a woman.

“Did I forget to mention him?
He’s due back in Portland any day now.
I’m afraid he won’t like the idea of you bedding his wife.
He’s so very puritanical about these things.”

She climbed to her feet, still smiling.
Jesse stepped back, staring at her as if she’d just sprouted another head.
Taking advantage of his momentary stupefaction, Lila slid her arms around his waist, her hands inching up his back, pulling his shirt from his denim pants in one fluid movement.

Jesse moved so fast she gasped.
He thrust her away, his strong hands gripping her forearms so hard it made her wince.
He had a rule about women: no virgins and no married ones.
Virgins were just plain trouble.
And married women had husbands.

“You should’ve told me you were married,” he muttered fiercely, shoving her away from him.
Lila stumbled as he swung toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“I’m leaving.”

“Just like that?” Lila cried desperately.
He couldn’t leave yet.
It was too soon!
“You can’t!” She crowded close to him again, this time pressing her breasts against his strong back, her arms winding tightly around his waist.
Jesse Danner was a fantastic lover.
She wasn’t going to give up until the last moment.
Now she wished she’d held her tongue about Montana.
That warning may have cost her a last few minutes of ecstasy.

Jesse yanked her arms from around his waist, swearing beneath his breath.
He tucked in the shirt Lila had pulled from his trousers.

But Lila wouldn’t give up.
She nipped at his nape and rubbed her sinuous body along his back.
She was certain she would win.
Jesse Danner was a slave to his senses.
She’d learned that in the wonderful hours they’d spent together.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know about his rules.

“Oh, Jesse,” she implored, hurt.
He jerked away as if her touch sickened him.
“I didn’t know it would matter this much.”

“Didn’t you?” He was scathing.
“Then why didn’t you tell me straightaway, when we first met?”

“All right.
I was scared that you wouldn’t understand.
But now, after all we’ve shared…”

“All we’ve shared,” he repeated acidly, throwing her a narrow look of disgust.
Lila inwardly sighed.
Even angry, Jesse was the most handsome, stimulating, sinfully sexy man she’d ever known.
Tall, with thick black hair, slumberous blue eyes, a truly sensual mouth, and a strong, muscular, compact body, she’d realize she would have Jesse the moment she clapped eyes on him.
Never mind that her reason for seeking him out had been because Montana had ordered it.
How was she to know that Montana’s latest business rival would be so damnably attractive?

And Jesse had been so willing.

Of course, that was because he was young, she thought with bitter self-honesty.
Younger than herself by almost ten years, though she’d taken pains that he didn’t know it.
The first time they’d made love was in the back of her carriage.
Lord!
It caused her arms to break out in goose bumps just thinking about it!
Lila liked men who knew how to take charge, especially in bed.
If she had one complaint, it was that Jesse didn’t like it as rough as she did, although he’d kept her satisfied, heaven knew.

Now, however, he looked as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her!
“Nothing’s changed,” she said softly.
“Montana doesn’t have to know.”

“Montana?
Montana Gray?” Jesse stared at her in shock.
“Jesus!
You’re married to Montana Gray?”

She nodded.
“He’s away most of the time.
He has lots of businesses.”

“You told me your name was Hathaway.
This
house
is Hathaway House according to the name inscribed on the wrought-iron gate.”

“I’m Lila Hathaway Gray,” she admitted.
“The last of the Hathaways.”

If Jesse had been a resident of Portland, he would have known that.
Her name was always on the society page of the
Oregonian
.
Montana’s main reason for marrying her had been to infiltrate Portland’s upper echelons of society, and, of course, her reason for marrying an opportunist like Montana was simply for his ill-gotten money.
The Hathaway fortune had dwindled over the years, until Lila had been left virtually penniless.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged, adding softly, “Please,” as she edged a step nearer.

The cold look on Jesse’s face stopped her in her tracks and she dropped her outstretched arms to her sides.
Jesse was repulsed by the woman before him.
When she’d approached him in the park, complaining of a twisted ankle, he’d chivalrously turned to help her.
He’d been entranced by the sight of her.
In a white dress with peach-colored ribbons and a low, ruffled décolletage, her white-feathered and peach-flowered hat dipped over one eye, a dainty parasol swinging from her arm, she’d looked like a confection.
Sweetness and purity wrapped in a delicious package.
He’d helped her to her carriage and at the door there’d been no mistaking the invitation and those sultry eyes.
Buoyed by his success in negotiating the park block, Jesse had followed her inside the carriage.
She’d reminded him of Emerald – the Emerald who’d given him her virginity; the Emerald who had unknowingly been responsible for Jesse’s rule about virgins; the Emerald who had turned out to be as coldhearted as she was beautiful.

Now, facing the real Lila
Gray,
Jesse realized with bitter irony that she was indeed exactly like Emerald.
Scheming, selfish, spoiled, wicked.
He couldn’t wait to shake the dust of Hathaway House off his boots much as he walked away from the life he’d once known in his home town of Rock Springs.
Trouble with women followed Jesse like a bad smell, and he had a bullet scar on his right shoulder from old man McIntyre’s shotgun to prove it.

“You’re making a mistake!” Lila burst out when she realized her pleading had no effect on him.

“The mistake I made was three days ago when I climbed into your carriage.” Lila’s lips tightened, but Jesse added coldly, “Your husband is in the same business I am.
He’s buying property all around the city.
Did you think we wouldn’t meet?”

“But you already have met.
You were at his office last Friday.”

Jesse felt as if the breath had been knocked from him.
“How do you know that?”

“Because I followed you from Montana’s office to the park.”

A sick feeling gathered in Jesse’s stomach.
Lila had followed him?
Then she would have witnessed his meeting with Nell!
Holy Christ, if she knew who Nell was, all hell was about to break loose!

“I didn’t meet with Montana,” Jesse explained, eyeing her closely, choosing his words carefully.

“Well, you met with that little mouse in the park!” Lila’s fury burst out as if she couldn’t hold it in.
“Who was she?
Another lover?”

“Just a friend.” Jesse’s relief was boundless.
Lila hadn’t recognized Nell.
She didn’t know it was Nell who’d given Jesse the inside track on that particular piece of real estate; Nell who had helped squeeze her boss,
Montana Gray,
out of the deal; Nell whom he’d planned to meet at Gray’s offices, but who’d left him a note to meet her in the park instead.

Not a religious man, Jesse nevertheless sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for Nell’s safety.
If he’d had any idea Lila was Montana’s wife, he never would have gotten involved with her.

“A friend?” Lila snorted, only slightly mollified.
After a moment, she said in a low voice, “When I saw you at the park, I just lost my head.
I wasn’t supposed to take you home, but there you were and things just happened.”

“You followed me on your husband’s orders,” Jesse realized.

Her dark gaze slid down his body.
“We could still work together,” she added slowly, as if turning the idea over in her mind.
“Montana doesn’t know anything yet.”

Jesse stomach turned at the thought of joining forces with the woman in front of him.
He’d thought her a lady, and so she was.
He realized he never wanted another lady as long as he lived.

He strode away from her without another word, yanking open her bedroom door.
In the hall below she heard voices.
Not the voices of Lila servants.
Men’s voices.
And one of them was Montana Gray’s.

There was nowhere to run.
Jesse whipped around to stare accusingly at Lila.
The look on her face said she’d known, or at least guessed, that her husband would be arriving soon.

“Jesse,” she implored in a whisper.
“I can still hide you.
There is an entrance to the attic.
Tell me you’ll stay with me!”

Jesse turned in revulsion and strode across the upper balcony.

“Lila!” Montana’s voice boomed from below.
He walked to the center of the entry hall and stood in a circle of black tile.
He was huge and burly with a hard jaw and one eye that drooped a bit, a relic of an earlier fight at a time when Montana was more interested in brawling than climbing his way to the top of society.
Now he had money and some sophistication, but underneath he was still a nasty character.
Jesse may not have paid much attention to who Montana’s wife was, but he’d committed to memory all the stories he’d heard about the man himself.

Montana looked up and saw Jesse immediately.

And Jesse saw the four other men who’d accompanied Montana inside.

“Get him,” was all Montana said.

The four men swarmed up the stairwell.
Jesse stood his ground.
He had no pistol, no weapon at all.
The first man lunged too fast and Jesse kicked him in the groin, tossing him over the rail.
The second grabbed his left arm and he swung with his right, crashing his fist into the man’s jaw until the fellow bellowed in pain and rage.