The Heart's Pursuit (7 page)
J
ared Newman wasn’t much of a talker. He hadn’t said a single word to Silver since they’d broken camp a half hour after sunrise. She was fine with the silence. After a mostly sleepless night, her brain felt foggy, and she doubted she could engage in conversation, intelligent or otherwise.
Following behind the pinto and packhorse, she found her gaze focused on the bounty hunter’s back. He rode with the ease of a man who’d spent a great deal of time in the saddle. His body flowed with the horse’s movements, his right hand resting on his thigh. She suspected that, despite looking relaxed, he was alert for signs of danger.
Danger must be a constant part of his life.
How had he become a bounty hunter? There was
something about him—something more than just the soft southern drawl—that told her he’d been raised in a much different world from the one he lived in now. A gentleman’s world. Something in his eyes, perhaps. Or something in the way he . . .
She shook off the train of thought. It didn’t matter to her, one way or another, where he’d come from or who he’d once been.
As the trail widened, Jared slowed his gelding and waited for Silver to come alongside him. “You know, Miss Matlock, Central City is a shot in the dark. Your Mr. Cassidy might not have come to see his friend before leaving Colorado. He could be anywhere by now.”
“I know.”
“If his friend is a professional gambler, he’ll be working in one of the saloons. You won’t be able to go with me while I look for him.”
She didn’t like it, but she didn’t argue with him. She’d never been inside a saloon in her life. Although it couldn’t damage her reputation any more than traveling alone with this man might do.
“There’s a restaurant in Central City that’s reputable. I ate there last time I came through these parts. I’ll have you wait for me there. Remember what I told you last night. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll send you packing.”
The repeated warning caused Silver’s temper to rise, but she tamped it down. She’d set herself on this course
and was determined to see it through. No matter what, she wouldn’t give Jared Newman a reason to send her back to Twin Springs.
“Agreed, Miss Matlock?”
“Agreed, Mr. Newman. I promise you, I’ll adhere to your rules.”
His gaze told her she’d best keep that promise. Then he nudged his horse with his heels and pulled out in front of her once again.
Black Hawk—and Central City above it—was a town built in a narrow draw between mountains rich with ore. While the gold rush days were over, the mines would, it was believed, produce wealth for decades to come. At least for a fortunate few.
It was early afternoon when Jared and Silver rode through Black Hawk on their way to Central City. Music and laughter spilled from several saloons lining the main street. Jared paid close attention to each establishment that provided games of chance for its customers. If he’d been alone, he would have dismounted and begun his search right then. But he wasn’t alone, which meant he had to see Silver settled someplace he considered safe.
What a bother. And it was his own fault for agreeing she could go with him, even for one day. A man in his profession
needed to be untethered by responsibilities. That was why he worked alone. Always had. Always would.
They rode on to Central City and to the restaurant he’d mentioned earlier. After tying their horses to the hitching rail, he led the way inside, where a waitress in a white blouse and black skirt showed them to a table beside the front window. Silver sat on one of the chairs, then looked at him with a question in her eyes.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told her. “You stay put.” He put several coins on the table in front of her. “Get yourself something to eat. With any luck, we’ll be on our way in an hour or two.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Not right now.” He started to turn, then repeated, “Stay put.”
From the look Silver gave him, he could tell she wanted to argue with him. Her expressive eyes always gave away her true feelings. But to her credit, she nodded in agreement and said nothing more.
He left the restaurant and walked to the nearest saloon. Inside, smoke formed a cloud above the two tables where men played cards. Several women were scattered around the open-spaced room, two lounging against the bar, three others seated at the card tables with the players. The tinkle and bang of a piano sounded from a far corner.
Jared strode to the bar, and when the man behind it asked what he wanted, he answered, “Information.”
The bartender cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m looking for a gambler by the name of Carlton. A dealer. I was told he works in Central City. Do you know him?”
“Sorry. Can’t say as I do. You a lawman?”
Jared gave a slow shake of his head. “I was asked to pass along a message about a family friend if I happened to run into him while in town.” The lie came easily to his lips. Subterfuge and deception were a necessary part of tracking down fugitives. It no longer bothered him when the situation called for less than truthful answers, although occasionally he wondered what his mother and father would think if they could see what he’d become.
The bartender took a glass from behind the counter and wiped it with a towel. “Try the Crystal Palace.” He jerked his head to the left. “They’ve got a dozen or so dealers on their payroll. Might be the guy you’re lookin’ for is one of them.”
“Thanks.” Jared touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll do that.”
A short while later, he leaned against another bar, this one inside the Crystal Palace. The large room held few similarities with most saloons that lined the streets of mining towns. Somebody had spent a lot of money so the place could live up to its name. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Red velvet curtains framed the large windows. Leather-upholstered wing chairs were grouped together as if this were a gentlemen’s club rather than a gambling establishment.
Although it was not even suppertime, the green felt tables had plenty of men seated at them. Smoke from their cigarettes and cigars curled toward the high ceilings. The women who worked in the Crystal Palace were clad in satin gowns. Their makeup was discreet, their hair perfectly coiffed. One could almost believe they were ladies of quality, the sort who used to attend balls at Fair Acres as guests of his parents.
But Jared was not deceived by appearances. He could tell the difference between a harlot and a lady. His mother had been a true lady, a woman of character, full of charity and kindness. There’d been an innocence about her too, despite the hardships endured during the war.
Come to think of it, he’d recognized that same strength of character in Silver Matlock. She was both fragile and tough, determined and uncertain, innocent and wise. Those were just a few of the reasons it was so hard for him to say no to her.
There was nothing innocent about the women in the Crystal Palace. Despite their refined appearance, he saw other things in their eyes—cynicism, pain, bitterness, greed, hate, avarice.
“Excuse me, sir. There’s an opening at the tables if you’re interested in playing cards.”
He turned toward the silken voice.
The woman’s fire-red hair was caught in a mass of curls atop her head, and her green eyes looked up at him while a
friendly smile played across her rosy mouth. “If you would rather, we could sit at a table and talk.”
“I’d rather talk than lose money.”
Her smile broadened before she turned, the hem of her gown sweeping the shiny black-and-white tiled floor, and led the way to a table in a more private corner of the room. She waited beside a chair until Jared pulled it out for her.
“You’re not from around here,” she said as she sat. “I would remember you if you’d been in before.”
He shook his head. “No, miss. I’m not from around here.”
“My name is Claudette.”
He dipped his head. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You can call me Jared.”
“What brings you to Central City? Are you hoping to strike it rich?”
He laughed softly. “I’m not that big of a fool. Actually, I’m looking for someone. There’s a member of his family who needs to find him, and I promised to help. His name’s Bob Cassidy. I just missed him awhile back in Twin Springs, but I heard he was coming up this way to see a friend named Carlton. Do you know anybody by that name?”
Claudette smiled. “Matt Carlton? Sure, I know him. He used to work here as a dealer. But he up and quit last week. Or maybe it was before that. Anyway, one day he was here and the next he was gone. That’s how it is with lots of folks hereabouts.”
Was Carlton’s departure a coincidence? Jared didn’t tend to believe in coincidence. The two friends, Carlton and Cassidy, must have joined forces. “Did he leave with Mr. Cassidy, by any chance?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “Don’t know.”
“Could you describe this Carlton fellow to me? Might make it easier for me to find the two of them. It’s important.”
“Sure I can. Matt’s a tall man. Got dark yellow hair and pale blue eyes. Handsome devil, if you ask me, but I never took to him. Had a cold way about him.”
Jared leaned forward on his chair. “By chance did he leave word where he was going?”
“No. Like I said, he was here one day and gone the next. But he was always talking about making it rich in one mining camp or another. Montana. Idaho. Nevada.” She shrugged. “Anyplace he could sit at a poker table and take some poor sucker’s hard-earned dust.”
Jared had known it was a long shot he would find Bob Cassidy in Central City with his friend. But wouldn’t it have been nice to collect the reward after only two days? He’d have been rid of Silver Matlock too.
He pushed his chair back a few inches, preparing to rise. “Thank you for your help, Miss Claudette. I guess I’ll—”
“Claudette.” The pretty brunette who’d interrupted leaned close to Claudette’s ear. “You’re needed upstairs. It’s Felicity.”
The woman was instantly on her feet. “You must excuse
me.” With that, she hurried toward the curving staircase that led to the second floor, the brunette following on her heels.
Jared rose and returned to the bar.
“Want another?” the bartender asked.
He shook his head. “No, thanks. What’s wrong with Felicity?”
The bartender’s jaw tightened. “Some man beat her to within an inch of her life. Unconscious for days. The doctor says she’ll likely pull through, but it won’t be easy and she won’t ever be the same.”
Jared had asked the question as a way to strike up another conversation, hoping the information he’d sought from Claudette could now be obtained from the bartender instead.
“Beat her so bad she doesn’t hardly have a face left. Chopped off her hair too.”
Icy fingers closed around Jared’s heart. He forgot about the man named Matt Carlton who’d been a dealer in this establishment. He forgot about the thieving Bob Cassidy who’d left his bride at the altar after emptying the mercantile safe. He forgot everything except for the last words the barkeeper had spoken:
“Chopped off her hair too.”
It had been over a year since he’d tracked the killer with the crescent scar to Colorado. Over a year since he’d heard of another murder. Jared had used the time to bring in other fugitives, but he was ever vigilant for a new clue—or
another tragedy. It seemed he had stumbled onto the latter today.
He spun away from the bar and strode toward the staircase.
