Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (20 page)

“I wasn’t sneaking around. I went straight to your room to inform you of my presence and give you a chance to throw me out. I asked if I might sleep on the sofa, and you insisted that I stay there with
you!
I assumed that you... that you were lonely, and all I wanted at that moment was a place to close my eyes. Truly, I only meant to lie down next to you for a few hours. I don’t even remember taking off my clothes. When you began to snuggle against me, I was only half-conscious—”

“Oh, I see! It was
my
doing! Next you’ll say that I seduced you, and you were powerless to resist my advances!”

“Nothing of the kind.” He strove to keep his voice even. “But I do think that we both were more inclined to succumb to passion because we were rather drugged with sleep.”

“I don’t remember succumbing to anything,” she insisted stubbornly. “All I know is that you forced yourself upon me.”

“I think you remember a great deal more than you are willing to admit, Kathleen.”

The tenderness in his voice was like a caress, and Katie felt a hot chill run down her spine. That was the problem: she did remember, and it was sheer torture. “Mr. Adams, I feel that it would be pointless for us to continue this conversation. When are you leaving Columbia?”

She was a little fireball with a veneer of ice. Jack’s eyes strayed helplessly to Katie’s full, rosy mouth, and he almost sighed aloud. “I’m not quite certain.”

“I thought you came to deliver the platen. Well, you’ve accomplished that noble goal, so I see no reason for you to linger here.”

He smiled dryly. “Be that as it may, I cannot make my plans on the basis of your opinions. I have other things to see to here in Columbia, and I have no way of knowing how long that will take.”

Her curiosity was keen, but she affected an attitude of nonchalance. “My goodness, how very mysterious you are. Well, I suppose that I shall just have to tolerate your presence in town, but I see no reason why I should have to tolerate your company.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “Have I been banished from your circle of friends?”

“I think it would be stretching the point to say that we were ever
friends.
And in light of your behavior last night, I see no reason for any further contact between us.” Katie tilted her nose upward, thinking it an inspired touch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

He suppressed a chuckle as she swept past him toward the door. As she turned the knob, he said, “Kathleen, you’re a woman. You cannot simply force your desires back into a box and lock it in the attic.”

“Once again, sir, you underestimate me!” Katie shot back, then made her exit.

Jack nearly succumbed to an impulse to applaud.

Chapter 14

October 14-15, 1864

“Missy want bamboo shoots? Fresh!” Tsing Tsing Yee grinned broadly at Katie across the glass counter of the Chinese store. With his long white queue, silk tunic, and round steel spectacles, Yee looked ancient and fragile. The old man was not even as tall as Katie.

“No, thank you, Mr. Yee. We’re cooking Hangtown fry for lunch today. All I need are oysters and eggs.”

“Hangtown
fr-ly?”
He repeated the words warily.

“Haven’t you heard of it?” Katie exclaimed, her eyes dancing. “My father told me that he was in Placerville back when it was called Hangtown. A miner who had just made a strike came into the Cary House when Papa was having lunch, and demanded the most expensive dish in the house. He was told that the most expensive ingredients were oysters and eggs, which cost a dollar apiece. Well, the cook scrambled the eggs with some onions, then folded in oysters, and the dish was christened ‘Hangtown fry’!”

“But—” Tsing Tsing Yee sounded perplexed. “But it not new! It egg foo yung! Chinese!”

Katie succumbed to laughter, and Lim, who stood nearby, joined in. “Of course it is!” he assured the old man. “The cook must have been Chinese, too. But white people don’t want to know that, or hear that one of us is cooking their food, or they would have to worry about rat’s tails or cat’s paws in their food. And they can’t admit to liking Chinese food, either. They give our dishes new names and pretend they made them for the first time!”

Yee scratched his head as Lim wandered away to study the shelves of spices. “I don’t understand.”

“To tell you the truth, Mr. Yee, neither do I,” Katie admitted.

He returned to more familiar ground. “You want mushrooms?” he said, holding up a box of dark, dried fungi. “Two kinds. Imported! And fresh, too!” The small, wizened old man turned, pointing to a bin filled with grayish mushrooms. Katie noticed that Yee’s queue was so thin now that it made only a tiny line down his back, as if it had been drawn there.

She returned his hopeful smile. “Yes, some mushrooms would be nice. I’ll take a handful or two of the fresh ones.”

As he assembled her purchases, Katie browsed around the dim, cool store. Lim was staring at the glass containers of exotic spices that lined one wall. Indeed, everything seemed exotic in this place, even the smells—incense, coriander, pungent bottled sauces, Chinese vegetables, dried fish, peppers, jasmine tea. Tsing Tsing Yee and his wife also sold Chinese silk, fireworks, and, it was rumored among the Caucasian population, opium. Katie had grown up eating Chinese food at Lim Sung’s house, and she loved it. It seemed a shame to her that rampant fear and mistrust of the Chinese had prevented her people from discovering Chinese cooking. Now that so many “celestials” had been driven from Columbia, Tsing Tsing Yee’s business was beginning to founder.

“Katie, have you seen Mr. Yee’s egg?” Lim called softly from the back of the store.

“Not since I was a little girl,” she replied, going to join him. “He showed it to Mama and me.”

Yee was taking a beautifully decorated lacquer box from a cupboard. Smiling serenely, he opened it and withdrew a glass case. In it was an exquisite, intricately carved jade egg.

“From Tang dynasty,” Yee explained in hushed tones. “Very, very valuable. Egg has always been in my family.”

Katie stared, awestruck. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

“I’ll bet it’s worth more than all the gold that’s ever been weighed at Wells Fargo,” Lim declared.

Another voice remarked, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re right.”

The three of them looked up, startled, and saw Aaron Rush drawing near. Although he was a heavyset man, his tread was light and nearly soundless. Smiles wreathed his plump, pink face, and the top of his bald head glistened with beads of perspiration. As usual, Rush wore a brown suit, waistcoat, and a pearl stickpin in his black silk tie. From his breast pocket he withdrew a wilted brown silk handkerchief and applied it vigorously to his brow. “That’s quite a treasure you have there, Mr. Yee. Mind if I have a closer look?”

Hesitantly, Yee opened the fingers that he had folded protectively over the glass case at the sound of Aaron Rush’s voice. “I put it back now,” he said as soon as the mine owner had glimpsed the egg. Moments later the case and its black box were locked safely in the cupboard.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested in selling that egg,” Rush said genially.

“No!” Tsing Tsing Yee cried instantly, his face drawing up in an expression of fear.

“Just asking, friend, just asking!” Rush laughed and clapped a beefy hand on the old man’s shoulder. “No need to panic! Now then, might I speak to you privately? It’s rather important.”

Tsing asked his wife to come out and finish Katie’s transaction. Katie stood at the counter and took her time counting the money, one ear strained to catch bits of the conversation between the elderly Chinese and Aaron Rush. They were in the back room, but the door was ajar just enough to permit their voices to filter out when the pitch rose high enough.

Katie said nothing, but she studied Ah Yee. She was a beautiful old woman, as tiny as her husband, with skin like crinkled parchment. From time to time, Ah glanced toward the back of the store, clearly perturbed. Finally Lim spoke.

“Mrs. Yee, is something wrong?”

“Big man want to buy store. Keeps saying he pay more and more. He smile, but not in his eyes,” she said sadly.

Katie covered the old woman’s wrinkled hand with her own. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Yee. Everything will be all right.”

“I hope so. Tsing not strong anymore.” She looked down and sighed.

Outside, Katie strode angrily down Main Street, her basket swinging in the sunlight. “Why doesn’t that man leave us alone? I hoped so much that this evil would end when Van Hosten was killed. I hoped that some good might come of Papa’s death....”

“Well, I think that the truth about Aaron Rush has been slow to come to light,” Lim said thoughtfully. “We hoped for the best, and he’s deceiving.”

“I
know!”
Katie cried. “We hardly ever saw him when Van Hosten was alive, and when he did appear in town, he was always so jovial. I doubted that he even knew what his partner was up too. I really believed that everything would be different with Rush in charge.”

“Many people are still misled by him. It was his apparent kindness that convinced my parents to sell their land at last.”

Katie looked grim. “Well, now that we have a platen for the printing press...”

“Thanks to Jack Adams,” Lim put in.

“We can start putting out the
Gazette
again. I intend to write an editorial that will expose, once and for all, what Aaron Rush and his cronies are all about!”

“Katie, I think you ought to be a bit more cautious.” Lim stopped, noticing that her attention had been diverted to the bench in front of the City Hotel. On it sat Jack Adams and a stunningly beautiful young lady. She wore a stylish black-and-white-striped silk day gown with a braided hem and let her matching parasol drop back to reveal wavy chestnut hair drawn into a flattering chignon. Her face was lit by a radiant, adoring smile that Katie recognized all too well.

“Who’s that with Jack?” she whispered.

“Maggie Barnstaple. She’s Mrs. Barnstaple’s niece. Abby said that she was sent here from New York after some sort of scandal.”

“Hmm. She looks the type.” Katie’s cheeks were flushed. “Miss Barnstaple had better take heed, or she’ll find herself in the midst of a worse scandal, courtesy of Mr. Adams.”

“What’s wrong, Katie? You sound jealous.”

She hurried on ahead of him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Lim!”

* * *

A cloud of dust rose as Katie attempted to straighten the papers littering Gideon’s desk at the
Gazette.
As usual, cleaning the office was a task that seemed endless. Sneezing repeatedly, her eyes full of tears, she fumbled for a handkerchief. When one appeared in her hand, she gave it no thought until she had wiped her eyes and blown her nose. Then she looked up, expecting to find Lim at her side.

“Please don’t yell at me, Kathleen. You’re in my debt now, remember!” Jack Adams’s voice was laced with amusement.

For a frightening moment, she couldn’t get her breath, overwhelmed by the sight of him. Jack just seemed to get better looking each time they met, which maddened Katie no end. Today she was keenly aware of his sage-green eyes with their flecks of gold. Under slightly hooded lids, they were knowing. Katie felt as if they absorbed all her secrets at a glance. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. Thinking meanwhile that she must look frightful, her hair coming down, her face smudged, the tip of her nose red from sneezing.

The corners of Jack’s sensual mouth curved slowly upward. “I heard that you were going to start up the
Gazette
again, and I felt it was my responsibility to make certain that the new platen was in working order. After all, it hasn’t been tested on this press.”

“More likely you stopped by to remind me of your generosity and to corner me into thanking you.” For an instant she was abashed at her rudeness, knowing full well that as a representative of the
Gazette,
she
did
owe him a vote of thanks. But then pride overcame her better instincts, and she couldn’t resist adding, “In any case, I’m surprised that you were able to find the time in your busy schedule.”

Jack had been walking toward the printing press, but Katie’s words stopped him dead. “What an interesting thing to say!” He turned to stare at her, wide-eyed. “Knowledge derived from my extensive dealings with women over the years leads me to suspect that there might have been a bit of jealousy behind your words. But of course, that’s impossible, isn’t it?”