The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) (8 page)

A second pair of feet hit the ground. “I’m not
sure what the purpose of all this is, exactly, regardless, I’d like for you to
leave.” My father rarely took a stand like that, but when he did, he never
backed down.

“I’m not finished yet.”

“That’s fine. I’d like for you to leave anyway, if
you please.”

Boots scraped across the ground to the door, and
then I heard them turn. “Eli Masterson is a traitor,” Rawls said. “An
Indian-lover and a traitor.”

My heart jumped into my throat. I strongly
disliked his rumors dealing with the other men, but when he started to speak
ill of Eli, the gentlest, kindest man I’d ever met; the one person who I wanted
to see more than anyone in the world. I couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Now, sir,” father said in a stern voice. “I’ll
not have that sort of accusation being thrown around so casually. Not at all.
I’ve asked you to leave and yet here you remain, talking my ear off about
things which are none of your business. Why are you doing this, Mr. Rawls?”

“Goldtooth,” he said. “My friends call me –”

“You
have no friends
in this house, Mr.
Rawls. Good day to you.”

My eyes were wide open. What I wouldn’t give to go
out and watch the exchange like it was a cockfight. My shamelessness mortified
me, but still I couldn’t rip my attention from them.

“You can dismiss what I’m saying all you like,
Jefferson, but-”

“Please leave, Mr. Rawls. And please stop calling
me Jefferson. I’ll ask you one more time to exit my home before I throw you out
bodily.”

I had
never
heard father speak that way to
someone – anyone – before.

“I’m going. But I’ll leave you with this. That
man, Eli Masterson? He’s the reason the Sioux never leave this town alone. He’s
trying to cavort with those damn Indians to get this place burned to the
ground. He and that savage he cavorts with, they’re planning, you know.”

“That is
quite
enough!” My father had begun
to shout. Never in my life had I heard him so excited. “Good
day
sir.”

The door slammed shut, rattling the windows. “You
ready, Clara? I need some fresh air.”

I watched Mr. Rawls and his pug-nosed compatriot
stand in front of the door for a moment longer, then turn and leave. “Yes,
father, I’m ready,” I called down. “I think I could use some air, too.”

*

O
ur day of panning was a bit more exciting than the
last one. Not an hour into the day of work, Father got a heavy pan full of
dust, and one small nugget that sent him running about in the water like an
excited toddler. After the strain of the morning, it was good to see him find
some joy, but I couldn’t shake what he’d said about Eli.

Rawls’s accusations about Mr. Bullock and the rest
of them were easy enough to dismiss because they either didn’t pertain to the
present, or were just flat wrong. Clark Davis’s claim
was
working. He’d
shown us the gold. But what he said about Eli struck me in a strange,
unexplainable way. 

I
knew
he had a relationship with Itan.
He’d explained it to me, after all. There was no shame surrounding it, in fact,
he was very proud of their sworn brotherhood. If that were true, then what
else
about what he said should be taken seriously? Were there kernels of reality in
all his bombastic statements? I spent most of the day absently following my
father around, and trying to reconcile what I knew to be true with what I
needed to be false.

As the sun began its path to the horizon, a sound
of hooves shook me from my stupor.

Someone coming up the river toward Father called
out, “Sure is a lot cooler in the mountains out west than it is here this time
of year.”

“Eli? Is that you?” I made my way over, and in my
eagerness, I dropped the basket I was carrying and stumbled as soon as I saw
his face. Almost tipping the thing over and allowing our days’ worth of gold to
rejoin the river, I let out a soft curse the instant before one of Eli’s
powerful arms caught me. He helped me to right myself, not once taking those
beautiful blue eyes off my face.

As father approached, Eli spoke softly to me.
“It’s good to see you, Clara. The road back’s a long and lonely one for a man
to travel alone.” His hand settled first on my shoulder, then moved slightly
down my back.

I couldn’t speak; I could hardly keep myself from
falling over in the river again. Eli’s gloved fingers curled softly against the
small bit of skin above my collar. I was almost taken with a flight of fancy to
turn and kiss him – thankfully I managed to maintain enough dignity to not
shame myself quite so utterly. Fortunately, a moment later, Father approached
and saved me from any further embarrassment.

“Mr. Masterson! So good to see you. How’d you find
us?”

“Oh,” Eli said with sly smile, “I got into town
and went directly to Mr. Star to ask after you. Like I was just telling Miss
James here, the road back to Deadwood is empty, dull, and lifeless. I needed to
see a couple of friends when I got back to civilization, such as it is.”

“Well you’re certainly always welcome to visit. By
the way, your advice that I seek out Mr. Star proved very fortunate. It seems
like I’ve got a working claim!” Father fished a nugget out of the basket I’d
dropped and turned it in the sunlight.

“Put that down,” Eli said in a hushed tone. “Don’t
go waving nuggets. These hills aren’t safe for success. Too much greed, too
many –”

“Eli? Eli Masterson? Is that you?” Eustace Rawls
drew up behind Eli and put his hand on his shoulder. “How long as it been since
we came across one another?”

In my excitement, I’d somehow missed his approach.

Eli grimaced. “Six years, Eustace. Six happy
years.” He brushed the hand off his shoulder. “Leave these folks alone, do you
understand? No one’s going to put up with you or your goon harassing them. I’ve
warned Seth to keep an eye –”

“Oh yes, the right Sheriff. I’m sure he’ll have
plenty of time to keep me from being cordial with my friends here in between
his endless visits to the various women he keeps. Anyway, no need to be curt
with me, Eli. I was just coming by to,” he paused. “What’s that then?” his gaze
went to my father’s hand, still holding the nugget.

“Nothing,” Father said, tucking it in his pocket.
“None of your business at any rate. We were just going back to town, to dine
with Mr. Masterson, if he’ll give us the pleasure.”

Eli nodded without taking his eyes off the slight
man in the tattered coat before him. “Be obliged, ma’am, sir.” He reached for
my hand, took it and kissed it. “There’s a right way and a wrong way to talk to
people, Eustace. You’ve just exemplified for us the way to make sociability a
most unpleasant experience.”

They exchanged a long, unfriendly glare.

“Of course,” Rawls said. “I’d hate to keep friends
from enjoying each other’s company. Or lovebirds apart.” The man’s beady, black
eyes settled upon me and I felt a chill as he searched my face. “Remember what
I told you, Jefferson. Congratulations on your find. Hope it’s the first of
many.”

With that, he turned and left. Father’s face was
red and Eli looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

“He told us the foulest things,” I whispered.
“About Mr. Bullock, Mr. Star, that nice fellow with the claim adjacent ours,
and about you. Why?”

Eli shook his head. “He’s an angry man. An angry
man I haven’t seen since the Comstock.” His eyes darkened for a moment. After
closing his eyes for a moment, Eli opened them and his jovial smile was back.
“But, that’s for another time. Right now I’m glad to be among friends. If you
were serious about that offer of supper, I’d love to take you up on it, Mr.
James. I’m famished.”

“Jefferson,” Father said. “Call me Jeff, or Jeff
or Jeffrey. I answer to all of them. Friends should use first names, you know.
And Clara,” he turned to me briefly before facing Eli again, “I’m sorry for
what I said earlier. It was out of line.”

I smiled and nodded to accept what he’d said, just
as Eli put his hand back on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze.

“I like that, Jeff. Call me Eli.” His smile, along
with those sparkling eyes, dazzled me when I looked in Eli’s direction. “It’s
good to be back.”

September 20, 1878

Deadwood, Dakota Territory

––––––––

T
he first day of our ice delivery was a happy one,
though not for the reason I imagined.

I woke up earlier than Father for once, and got
his coffee ready. He was packing his tools, and about to head out the door when
he turned to me and stared for a moment.

“Clara,” he said. “I want you to be happy. More
than anything in the world, I want for your happiness. If you want to leave
this place and go right back to New York, all you have to do is say the word.”

Studying his face, I thought perhaps he was asking
permission, more than expressing his care. Whatever that letter he’d gotten
from Francis had a terrible effect on his mood. Something, I knew, had gone
wrong and it was worrying him, but he wouldn’t speak of it in clearer terms.

“Our place is here, father, for now. You’ve got
your claim and I have,” I paused to consider my words. No way was I going to
admit that I didn’t want to go back to New York because I didn’t want to leave
behind a man with whom I wasn’t even involved. Just the idea of never seeing
Eli again put a lump in my throat.

“What is it, dear? Something seems to have grabbed
ahold of your tongue and clamped down.” A wry smile spread across his face. “I
think I have some idea.”

I blushed at his insinuation. “Father, it’s not
like that.”

“It’s all right, Clara, it’s all right.” A broad smile
covered father’s face. “I’m just having a joke at your expense. I remember
being just like you, although on the other side of it. I’ve seen the way Eli
looks at you, too. A man doesn’t get that distant, unable-to-think-correctly
glaze over his eyes unless he is in a bad way.” Father said, no doubt thinking
of how he spent two years courting my mother before finally working up the
courage to ask for her hand.

He looked so vulnerable in just that moment that I
took his hand and held it between both of mine. “Is something wrong with the
bank? I know you’ve been upset since that telegraph from Francis, and I –”

“No,” he said with a snap. “No, everything’s fine.
Or will be. If not for this claim proving out,
then
I’d be in one hell
of a spot. But no, don’t worry about that. All that happened was one of the
railroad companies we put our money in went broke trying to run a line from
Colorado to the Pacific. Nothing to worry about.”

The words he said and the look on his face weren’t
a match. He was pinching his lips, and had chewed so much on his mustache that
one corner was worn ragged. “Okay,” I said as I rubbed one of his arms. “If you
say so, I’ll not worry. But you do need to get to the claim, don’t you?”

“That I do,” he said with a smile. “You’re a good
girl, Clara. You keep your old man honest.” He leaned forward and kissed my
forehead before gathering his tools and his big, wide-brimmed hat. “Speaking of
Eli, from a moment ago, he’s quite the worker. I get the idea he’s just helping
me out to alleviate boredom, as he says there’s no caravans running for a time.
But without him, I’d be weeks behind instead of just days. Mr. Star thinks
we’ll be able to hire a crew to begin mining the claim soon.”

“My brave, gold prospecting father,” I said with a
smirk. “Work hard!”

“Every day, from morning to night. Be back well
after the sun’s down, Clara.” He closed the door behind him, whistling as he
went.

*

H
ours later, a rhythmic tapping on the front door
took my attention away from my journal.

“Who is it?” I called as the block of ice,
delivered directly after father left, settled into its place in the icebox and
made a groaning sound.

Somehow, before any answer was made, I already
knew.
Eli
.

“It’s Eli. Came by to see if you’d like to take a
short ride and enjoy an outdoor luncheon –” The door swung open, interrupting
him. Immediately, his eyes fell on me. Normally I’d be mortified at being seen
in my dressing gown, but instead of looking me up and down like that lecherous
Rawls and his goon, Eli looked me in the face. “Well ain’t there a fine sight.
Morning, Miss Clara.”

He took my hand and kissed it gently.

“Fine day to you, Eli. I thought you were out with
Father helping him at the claim.” A smile settled onto my lips that wasn’t
going anywhere for a long, long while. Those deep blue eyes spoke to me
somewhere deep down in my soul. The way his gaze smoldered, and jaws tightened
when he clenched his teeth sent a thrill up and down me.

Eli smiled disarmingly as he touched my arm right
below the shoulder, his fingers hot through my dressing gown. “I was, for a
fact. We decided to take a break for the rest of the day. Mr. Star and your
father took a ride to the next camp over for some sort of panning device that
just came onto the market. I can’t say I’m enough of an expert to understand
what they were talking about.”

With an easy grace, he pushed his hat back on his
head and crinkled his eyes.

“What are you doing with that stare?” I asked him,
almost unable to keep from giggling. “Hoping to pierce my heart with your eyes,
Mr. Masterson?”

“You know me all too well, somehow, Miss James.”
He drew so close that when he put his hand on the wall beside my head I could
feel his breath against my cheek. “Do you have any biscuits?”

“Biscuits?” I breathed him in. Eli was inches
away. I wanted him to kiss me so badly I almost just did it myself.

“Can’t make sandwiches without any biscuits.” He
smiled that dashing, almost painful smile and gave my shoulder a gentle
squeeze. “And without sandwiches, we don’t have much of a picnic.”