Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (12 page)

Refilling an empty whiskey bottle, Katie resolved to cheer her up, though she wasn’t feeling particularly chipper herself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lim Sung inquired as he finished wiping down the bar. “You look like you’ve lost your best friend! But I’m right here, so it must be Mr. MacKenzie you’re missing. Is that it, Katie?” He watched her with alert black eyes.

She summoned a smile. “Don’t be silly, Lim. Papa’s only been away a few hours. I think it’s the heat... and I’m probably tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night, and Abby and I scrubbed this floor at dawn.”

“As you say. And Abby is just hot and tired, too?”

“I imagine so.” Katie propped her elbows on the bar, rested her chin in her hands, and stared into the distance. She sighed, conscious of an unfamiliar ache in her chest, a feeling of emptiness. Why did her father have to go away today, of all days? Not that she would have felt right about discussing her feelings with him. If her mother were still alive, she would have had someone to share her problems with; they could have talked them over together, woman to woman. With that realization came a sudden wave of longing for her mother, compounding her loneliness and feelings of isolation.

“Well, well,” Lim murmured next to her. “Here comes someone who might possibly make you feel better.”

Katie glanced listlessly toward the door, then straightened. Jack Adams was standing there. With the afternoon sun glinting off his hair and burnishing a halo round his head, he appeared ghostly somehow, an apparition, summoned to mock her. That possibility was ruled out, however, when Abby let out a cry of joy, ran to him, and threw her arms around his neck.

“You came back! Oh, Jack, I knew you would!”

“Hello, Abby.” Gently, he pried her arms from his neck. “I appreciate the warm greeting, but I don’t think it’s merited; after all, I’ve only been gone a few hours. Must be pretty dull around here today if my appearance can cause such excitement!” He held her away from him. “Look, I’ve gotten you all dusty. I’m really not fit to touch.”

“Don’t be silly,” Abby replied, clinging to his arm.

Jack looked slowly toward the bar, and his eyes met Katie’s. He smiled slightly, and she flushed in reaction. “Hello, Miss MacKenzie... Lim.”

Katie’s heart swelled painfully at the sight of him. “Have you become more attached to Columbia than you realized?” she asked. “Couldn’t you bear to leave?”

Jack walked over to the bar, Abby close behind, and took a stool. He smiled at Katie. “Might I trouble you for a mug of cold water? It’s hot as Hades out there.” After drinking deeply, he explained, “I got as far as Angel’s Camp before discovering that I didn’t have my watch. I remembered then that I left it on the table in your kitchen when I bathed this morning. It’s valuable to me; it was a gift from my grandfather.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced,” Katie said, praying that he couldn’t guess the heady elation she felt just being near him again. “I know that you were in a hurry.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, and I can’t afford to lose a whole day. I’m afraid that, after I have something to eat, I’ll have to be on my way again.” Watching Lim refill his mug, he added, “It wouldn’t do for Van Hosten to hear I’d been in town today, either. I begged off making that stage trip with him because I couldn’t spare the time.”

“Well, if he’s gone to Sacramento, he doubtless won’t return for two or three days. Besides, why should it matter to you one way or the other? You’re no longer in his employ, are you?”

“That’s true. I don’t care particularly, but on the other hand, he isn’t a man I’d choose for an enemy.” Jack rubbed his eyes with long fingers. “What are you serving today?”

“Boiled mutton with oyster sauce, and there’s bread pudding, too. Abby, would you fetch a plate of food for Mr. Adams?”

Reluctantly, Abby let go of Jack’s arm and headed off to the tiny kitchen at the back of the saloon. Jack gazed at Katie.

“You must be at least as hot and tired as I am,” he remarked. “Why don’t you come around here and sit down for a few minutes? Just because you’re in charge doesn’t mean you have to stay on your feet the entire time.”

After a moment, Katie succumbed to temptation. She gave him a smile, knowing that he found her smiles beguiling, walked around the bar, and perched on the stool next to his.

“It’s almost worth the time and trouble just to see you again,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Katie knew that she was bedraggled, but she felt radiantly pretty in Jack’s eyes. She wasn’t sure what it was that he saw in her, but it pleased her that he saw it. On the other side of the bar, Abby set down the plate of mutton with a thud, rousing them both. Jack had just lifted his fork when Gideon Henderson entered the saloon.

“Hello, Gideon!” Katie greeted him. “What brings you here? I hope you don’t need me today because Papa has gone to Sacramento, and I promised to look after the saloon in his absence.”

Gideon’s face was pale and covered with a film of sweat. “That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about, Katie.” He stood facing her. Swallowing hard, he continued, “The sheriff asked me to tell you... well, it’s bad news...”

“Yes?” Dimly, Katie felt Jack’s strong male hand clasp her own, and then Gideon’s face seemed to blur before her eyes.

“There was an accident today. The Griffin held up the Sacramento stage, and Brian was shot....”

“He’s not—”

His face came closer, eyes swimming with tears behind his spectacles. “Katie, I’m so sorry. Your father is dead.”

Jack was on his feet, gathering her into his arms and holding her fast. Katie’s knees buckled, and her mouth opened wide to scream, but no sound came out. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she twisted in Jack’s arms, looking for Gideon. He reached out to clasp her shoulder.

With an effort, she whispered, “Are you saying... that the Griffin shot Papa?”

Gideon nodded. “It looks that way. Your father and Harold Van Hosten were both killed. But you don’t want to hear about this now—”

“Yes. Tell me.” She leaned against Jack, letting his arms support her. She hadn’t the strength to both stand and speak. Jack was stroking her hair, and the rhythmic motion of his hand seemed to be all that kept her heart beating.

“Well, the details are a bit muddled. Victoria Barnstaple and her sister were the only other passengers, and they are both hysterical and confused. The driver was climbing down from the box when your father was shot, so he’s not entirely certain what happened, either, but as I understand it, the Griffin asked Brian and Van Hosten to get out of the coach. He took them behind it—to search Van Hosten, I believe—when a struggle ensued. At the end, both men were dead and the Griffin was unharmed. There is some question as to whether your father was shot by Van Hosten or the Griffin.”

“Van Hosten?” Katie’s thoughts spun crazily. “But that’s impossible. He wouldn’t shoot Papa, he’d have tried to shoot the Griffin.”

Jack spoke up quietly. “There may be more to the story than we know. Perhaps the stage driver will remember more clearly.”

“But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” she replied. She felt cold, lifeless, her heart a stone. “Papa is dead, and the Griffin is to blame, even if he didn’t fire the shot that killed him. If he hadn’t robbed the stage, Papa would be alive right now.”

“That’s true,” Gideon agreed, nodding. “Oh, Katie, I wish with all my heart that I could undo this terrible thing. You know that I loved Brian, too. Everyone did. He was a wonderful, kind-hearted man, and he certainly didn’t deserve to die. Not yet, and not like this!”

Katie disengaged from Jack and went to embrace her friend. He had begun to weep, and as she patted Gideon’s back, her own tears began to flow at last. Great, gulping sobs racked her body. She felt like crumpling to the floor, but instead, after a few moments, her composure began to return. Jack held out a handkerchief and she took it, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

“Why don’t you sit down, Katie?” It was Abby, holding a chair for her.

She sank onto the wooden chair and drew a deep breath. “Well, there’s nothing I can do, is there? I can’t change what’s happened.”

Lim Sung knelt beside her. “You must grieve, dear friend, and leave the rest to us. No worries.”

“No... worries?” Katie repeated, and gave a bitter laugh. Suddenly she realized that she was all alone. Both her parents were dead—the two people she loved and needed most were lost to her forever. Now she was completely responsible for herself. She would have to run the saloon on her own, live in the house without her father, and be able to support herself. The future yawned before her—interminable, uncertain... an uncharted wasteland. Was it possible that her father would never again wrap her in his bearlike embrace and warmly tell her how dear she was to him? Through a mist of tears, Katie stretched out a hand toward Lim. “You won’t leave me yet, will you?”

“Of course not.” He tilted his dark head against hers. “No worries, Katie. Not now.”

“Let me get you a drink,” Abby offered. “That will make you feel better.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Katie whispered.

“Believe me, it helps,” she insisted, and slipped behind the bar to pour Katie a sherry. Soon after handing it over to her, Abby retired to the storeroom at the back of the saloon.

Jack looked on as Lim and Gideon pulled up chairs next to Katie and murmured reassurances. After a moment, he rose and walked quietly back to the storeroom, pushing open the door just in time to see Abby quickly attempt to conceal an open bottle of sherry. He winced.

“Have you lost your mind, Abby?” He crossed the storeroom and wrenched the bottle from her trembling hands. “You’re
working,
for God’s sake!”

“Mr. MacKenzie’s murder is a terrible shock to all of us,” she cried, eyes wide with panic. “I just needed a little something to calm my nerves.”

“Save your excuses for someone more gullible. You’ve been drinking in secret, haven’t you? You’ve been through a difficult time, what with Ben’s death and moving to Columbia, but this has to stop.” His voice softened slightly. “Drinking won’t make your problems go away. Believe me, they’ll wait for you and just get worse.”

Abby began to weep, clinging to his sleeves. “Please, Jack, take me with you when you go! Don’t you see, I love you! The only moments of happiness I’ve known since Ben died have been with you, and today, when you went away, it felt as if my heart... as if I had a knife in my heart. I wouldn’t be any trouble! I’ll take care of you and love you and—”

Jack held her away from him. “Abby, you don’t love me. You’re just grateful to me because I reached out to help you. You have to build a new life. A good starting place would be dealing with your feelings instead of numbing them.”

Out in the corridor, Katie stopped at the sound of Jack’s raised voice. Then Abby’s sobs reached her ears. She’d come back to tell them that she was going home to be alone for a while, but obviously this was not a moment to interrupt.

“No, no! I’m so lonely!” she heard Abby cry. “No one in this town really cares about me. I’ll die if you don’t take me with you!”

“That’s enough. If you are lonely, it’s because you haven’t tried to make friends here in Columbia. There are many people here who will care for you if you will let them.” There was a slight pause, and then Jack went on in a firm voice: “Besides, I cannot take you with me. There is a woman waiting for me in San Francisco.”

Katie backed away from the door, forcing down the wave of confusion and pain that threatened to engulf her. It was too much. As she returned to Lim and Gideon, there was a buzzing in her ears and she felt as if she were floating. When the faces of her two friends came into focus, she tried to smile.

“Lim... you’ll come home with me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” He took her arm. “Mr. Henderson, do you think you can close the saloon? Ask Mrs. Armitage to help you.”

As Lim led her toward the door, Katie looked back over her shoulder. “Tell the men it will just be for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll be open as usual. Papa would want that.”

* * *

The MacKenzie house was showered with iridescent white moonlight. Standing on Jackson Street, Jack paused for a moment before opening the neat little gate. Everything looked just the same as it had when he’d left that morning. Red hollyhocks marched merrily along the picket fence, and the morning glory vines tumbled over the porch. A golden light shone at the kitchen window, completing the illusion of a contented, happy home.

But everything had changed. Jack’s heart ached whenever he thought of Brian. The image of his ruddy, smiling face, blue eyes twinkling under bushy white brows, was painfully fresh in his mind. He could still feel the warm pressure of Brian’s handshake when they had said good-bye less than twenty-four hours ago. How could the life of such a vital man be snuffed out so suddenly and senselessly?

Sighing, Jack opened the gate, walked up to the door, and knocked. After a moment, Lim Sung opened the door.

“How is Miss MacKenzie?” Jack asked softly. “I’d like to speak to her if she’s awake.”

“Katie’s bearing up quite well, but then she’s a very strong girl.” Lim gestured for him to enter. “Come in. She will want to see you before you leave.”

Jack found Katie sitting at the table in the kitchen where they had shared many convivial meals with her father. The evening’s air of unreality was heightened now by the cheery embroidered tablecloth and pitcher of orange poppies sitting in front of Katie. Her gaze was fixed on them, unseeing, while a cup of tea grew cold at her elbow. Jack sat down and reached for her hand. It was cold as ice.