Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (10 page)

“But what are you doing out here?” She struggled to sit up, hoping Jack wouldn’t help her. He didn’t.

“Mr. Van Hosten sent me to inspect the water flumes that connect with the river. I was just on my way back. What about you?”

Katie’s upper body was nearly touching his knees, and his face was so close that she could see the gold flecks in his sage-green eyes. “I walked out here with Lim Sung. This was a favorite spot of ours when we were children. After he left, I must have dozed off.” She forced her eyes away from Jack’s compelling gaze. “I should be getting back now, though, and I’m sure you’re anxious to report to your employer.”

“Not particularly.” He watched as she glanced up immediately, as if searching his face for a sign that he had not joined the enemy camp after all. “I’d like to talk to you, if you can spare me a moment.”

After a slight pause, Katie nodded. “Well, all right.”

Smiling, Jack reclined beside her in the grass. “My wish is that we might call a truce. You see, I’m leaving Columbia tomorrow morning, and I had hoped that you and I might part friends.”

“Leaving! Why? You just took that very promising position with Van Hosten.”

Idly, he twisted a long blade of grass next to her hand, his fingers brushing hers. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“I was never serious about working for the Rush Mine. That’s not the sort of employment I find challenging.” He looked into her eyes. “I took the job because I wanted to see for myself what was going on there.”

“And what did you decide?”

“Let’s just say that you are right about Rush and Van Hosten. Their code of ethics has a decidedly foul smell.”

“Then why are you leaving? You should stay and help us fight them!”

“That’s not possible at the moment.” His rough fingertip trailed fire over the back of Katie’s hand. “There are other matters that require my attention. That’s the reason I have to leave tomorrow, but I didn’t want to go with you hating me.”

Her heart pounded with a surge of conflicting emotions. “So you’re going? You’ve learned the truth about Rush and Van Hosten, and you’re going to turn your back and walk away?”

“There’s little I could do anyway. And perhaps I’ll be able to return before too long.”

A storm raged within her. It didn’t seem that she had any grounds to be angry with Jack any longer, but the thought of him simply disappearing from her life made her feel very confused, and she wasn’t sure exactly why. Finally she murmured, “Well, I do appreciate your explanation...”

“Will you hold a good thought for me?”

Their faces were inches apart, and suddenly she was overwhelmingly conscious of the fact that they were lying side by side in the grass. Twilight was deepening, and they were completely alone. Katie took a deep, shaky breath and inhaled Jack’s masculine scent. “Yes.” The word was barely audible.

He traced the line of her cheek with his thumb. “You’d neatly convinced yourself, hadn’t you?”

“Of what?”

“That it wasn’t real when we kissed the other day. That it actually was pretend, as we told your father.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “why are you bringing this up?”

“Maybe it’s my male pride.” One side of his mouth quirked ironically. “And I think you ought to be honest with yourself, for your own good. You felt some things for the first time, and if I let you pretend the kiss didn’t count, you can also bury those feelings. That wouldn’t be right.”

“It... wouldn’t?” She could scarcely breathe as his hand lightly caressed her throat, then slipped down her arm to her waist. Gently, he turned her body so that they lay facing one another.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Jack repeated, his voice low and husky. “That kiss was your awakening to womanhood, Kathleen. You’re a passionate woman, and you should be proud of that.” He gazed into her wide blue eyes which shone with panic and helpless yearning. Slowly he moved his hand to her back, drawing her slim, soft form against the length of his strong body. Katie wore one of her faded calico dresses, with only one thin petticoat, and for once he approved of her disdain for fashion. A hoop would have interfered. He slipped his right hand behind her head, then lowered his face to kiss her.

With one huge sigh, Katie recklessly surrendered to the moment. Tomorrow Jack would be gone, and then she would have forever to sample the rewards of self-denial. Now, however, she opened her mouth to his kiss and drank in the taste, scent, and feel of this irresistible man. Her hands caressed the contours of his shoulders, neck, and face while her hips arched against his hardness in the violet light. She had never guessed that a man’s body could be such a magical source of delight. When Jack turned her back into the soft grass, the pressure of his chest against her firm breasts made her moan with pleasure. He was kissing her ear, then the graceful arc of her neck, and the sensations his mouth evoked were shocking. Katie felt moist between her legs. She longed to take his hand and press it there.

Suddenly Jack lifted his body away from hers and dropped back in the grass a couple of feet away. “My God,” he muttered after a minute, “that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He stared at the sky. “Stopping, I mean.” When Katie didn’t answer, he turned his head and saw that she, too, was lying back and staring upward. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, and the urge to bare them was nearly overpowering. He could almost see and feel the pale, satiny curves... taste the sweetness of the rosy nipples that would pucker in his mouth...

Aching to the point of pain, Jack stood up before unbridled lust could overcome his more civilized inclinations. He bent down, took Katie’s hands, and lifted her to her feet. She looked at the grass and tensed against the fingers that tilted her chin upward. “Kathleen,” he said softly, “look at me. Please.”

Reluctantly she obeyed, grateful for the gathering darkness. Jack’s eyes were disarmingly gentle. “I must be mad,” she whispered.

“No,” he answered firmly. “I was completely responsible for what just happened, and you were innocent in every sense of the word. I only meant to give you the smallest kiss, just to remind you of the other. I lost my head... and it’s a sign of my respect for you that I regained it before it was too late. Can you possibly forgive me?”

Katie’s cheeks burned with shame and confusion as she remembered her own wanton response. “Of course,” she whispered.

“Come along, then. My horse is tied to that tree over there. I’ll take you home.” Jack was surprised by the surge of protectiveness he felt as he reached for Katie’s hand and led her through the twilight.

Chapter 7

July 3, 1864

Birds were singing merrily in the peach tree outside Katie’s window as she dressed in the amber-rose light of dawn. Already late for her five-thirty appointment to scrub the saloon floor with Abby, Katie strode into the kitchen and paused just long enough to get a raspberry muffin. She knew that Jack was still sleeping on his cot in the parlor, and she told herself not to look. But this was the end, whispered a little voice. He would leave Columbia today, taking her confusion and conflicting emotions with him.

Katie didn’t want to say good-bye. She was wearing a pair of dungarees, since she would be working on her knees, and a thin cotton shirt. Her hair was drawn back even more tightly than usual. For reasons she didn’t care to examine, she didn’t want this to be Jack’s last memory of her.

But she did want one last look at him. Carefully, avoiding the squeakier floorboards, she tiptoed into the parlor. A few feet from the cot, she stopped and drank in the sight of him. Jack lay bathed in the first burnished glow of morning, only somewhat covered by a rumpled blue-and-white quilt that Mary MacKenzie had sewn shortly before her death.

Katie blushed a little as she stared at his foot and calf hanging over one side of the narrow cot. His limbs were beautifully shaped, she thought, and looked strong even in repose. He was sleeping on his stomach, and nearly all of his bronzed, tapering back was exposed to her view. She could see the outline of his lateral muscles and noted a small mole at the base of his spine. Jack’s arms made lean-muscled arcs on either side of his head, which was turned to one side. Clean hair fell forward over his brow and curled at the nape of his neck, adding to the illusion of boyish vulnerability. Katie studied the profile that she seemed helpless to resist. The line of his nose, the hard mouth softened in sleep, the rugged curve of his jaw, all seemed different somehow from those same features on any other male face. Katie wondered what dreams were hidden behind his eyes.

When Jack’s lashes flickered, her heart leaped into her throat. He sighed slightly, and his lips curved in a suggestion of a smile.

“Good morning.” Sleep roughened his voice even more than usual.

Katie wished that she could simply vanish, but she froze instead, hoping that he might drift off again. Instead, his eyes opened a fraction, and his brow arched quizzically.

“Kathleen... why are you staring at me?”

She coughed, conscious of her burning cheeks. “I... uh, was just trying to decide whether or not to wake you. I wasn’t certain if you had to go to the mine or not....”

Rolling onto his back, Jack stretched, groaned at the effort, and sat up partway, leaning back against his elbows. Katie felt that his sleepy eyes could discern her every thought.

“How kind of you to think of me.” He gazed at her for a long moment, smiling. “You have a lovely pair of legs, Miss MacKenzie, even in trousers.”

Her face grew hotter. It was the first time she’d seen his bare chest in daylight, and she tried desperately not to look at it or to think about how warm it would be or how it would feel to touch it.

“Abby and I are going to scrub the saloon floor this morning,” she said, explaining the dungarees. “Have you said good-bye to her?”

“Yes. I saw her last night.”

Katie felt a twinge of jealousy. “She’ll miss you.”

“Abby needs to begin a new life. It will be better for her to do that without me around to depend on.” He sat up completely and said, “Would you come over here? I’d get up and come to you, but that would probably be inappropriate in my current state of undress.”

Charmed by his raffish grin, Katie approached the cot. When Jack reached for her hand, a shiver ran up her arm. “I only have a moment,” she whispered.

“I just wanted to thank you for the hospitality you’ve shown me. I know that it wasn’t your choice to have me in this house, but you did refrain from poisoning my food and I appreciate that. If I’ve done anything to offend you, I apologize.”

Katie was nearly overwhelmed by a sudden, inexplicable wave of emotion. There were so many things she wanted to say... but couldn’t. “I may have overreacted upon occasion, Mr. Adams. Actually, knowing you has been a most interesting experience.”

“Has it?” He beamed at her with a feigned expression of surprised delight. “I’m glad, and I am pleased to be able to return that very warm expression of sentiment, Miss MacKenzie.” His eyes twinkled. “In fact, I might go further and tell you that every moment in your presence has been highly... stimulating.”

Helpless, she smiled, acknowledging the pleasure she had experienced in Jack’s embrace. “You are very roguish, you know, but perhaps that’s been beneficial to me—for these few days.”

“Ah, at last! The smile I’ve been craving.” He pressed his mouth against the back of her hand, then stole a bite of the muffin she held. “I am very grateful.”

Katie smiled again, right into his warm, dancing eyes. She gave him the muffin and backed away. “You may as well have the whole thing!”

“I’ll miss your muffins, Kathleen. I never cared for them until I tasted yours.”

She blushed. “I really must go. Godspeed, Mr. Adams.” Turning, she hurried out of the house without looking back. Once out on Jackson Street, however, Katie leaned against an oak tree. Her hand felt scorched where Jack had kissed it, and now she touched her own mouth to that spot with an aching sigh.

* * *

Harold Van Hosten stood at his office window, looking down at the lots that had already been mined at the south end of Columbia. Main Street stopped and sloped sharply downward to a dirt pit studded with huge, oddly shaped granite, marble, and limestone boulders. They were the products of hydraulic mining, which many felt was destructive to the countryside and wildlife. Already valley streams had begun backing up, causing runoff mud to ruin farmland, but for now the mine owners had too much power to be stopped. Van Hosten smiled coldly. He believed that power was all, and as long as he held fast to what he had, he could overcome any obstacle—disgruntled miners, the Griffin, or the whining editor of the
Gazette.