Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (26 page)

“In love!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “I thought so!”

Gideon pushed up his spectacles and grinned. “I was forced to come to grips with the thing when I realized that I was perfectly well and the time had come to leave here. I think I had the idea that, when my recovery ended, my... uh... connection with Abby would have to end, too. Then it came to me that we do not necessarily have to deny ourselves those things which give us the most pleasure. So, last night, I spoke to Abby, and she has agreed to marry me.”

“Marriage?” Katie repeated, awestruck. “How... wonderful! Congratulations!” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.” Gideon beamed with happiness.

“Will you do it properly in church? With a white gown for Abby, and flowers, and—”

“A maid of honor?” he supplied, laughing. “Yes, of course. And Abby insists on a church wedding. She feels very close to God these days.”

Katie nodded. “Abby has become very wise. When will the wedding take place?”

“In about two weeks, I think. Abby’s gone to talk to Mrs. Barnstaple about helping to make her wedding gown. Working here, she simply hasn’t the time to do it all herself.”

“I’ll make the cake,” Katie declared. “And we’ll have a party here. Who will be the best man?”

Gideon looked at her and swallowed. “I’ve decided to ask Jack.”

“Jack?” she echoed in disbelief.

“Yes.” His tone was dry. “You remember Jack Adams, don’t you?”

“Of course! You needn’t tease me, Gideon. I was just surprised. After all, you barely know the man—”

“He’s the best friend I have in this town now. All the men I grew up with here have either gone east to war or off to San Francisco or Nevada to make their fortunes. I’ve grown to like Jack very much. He has the kind of integrity that’s hard to come by these days. I realize that you don’t like him, but I certainly can’t understand why. He likes
you,
Katie, and he worries about you.”

Mixed emotions gave her pause. “In all honesty, I have reason now to like Mr. Adams myself... although I have not forgotten that he has serious character defects. For the moment, however, we have called a truce.”

“Won’t you tell me why? I’m a terrible snoop, you know.” He grinned. “All newspapermen are.”

Katie couldn’t help laughing. “Well, let’s just say that I defied Mr. Adams’s warnings about Aaron Rush and nearly got myself killed. It was Jack’s concern for me that led him to... follow me and, ultimately, rescue me. So, you see, I owe him...”

“Your life?”

“Well,” she allowed, “at least a debt of gratitude.”

“That’s good.” He watched her with keen gray eyes. “It’s a start. You two ought to be friends.”

“I think that we are now... to a certain extent.”

Gideon cleared his throat. “I heard that the Griffin returned Tsing Tsing Yee’s egg. I’m sorry you weren’t able to get the proof about Aaron Rush that you were looking for. We’d all be better off if you had.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not finished yet,” Katie declared. “That man will be brought to justice—”

“If it’s the last thing you do?” an ironic voice interjected from the doorway.

Katie’s heart leaped at the sight of Jack striding toward them. His appeal seemed to grow more potent with each passing day. She was stirred by the casual, catlike grace of his movements, the set of his shoulders, the shape of his hands...

Stop it! she scolded herself. He took the stool next to Gideon and reached forward to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pewter coffeepot on the bar. Then he gave Katie a sidelong glance.

“I think you would be wise to forget about Aaron Rush for the moment. Leave it be.”

She smiled sweetly. “I appreciate your advice, Mr. Adams, and I promise to consider it carefully.” Turning to Gideon, she inquired, “Aren’t you going to announce your good news?”

“Oh—certainly!” He flushed. “I’ve asked Abby to marry me, and she has agreed.”

A sudden, sincere smile lit Jack’s face. Putting out his hand, he said, “Congratulations, Gideon! I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Ah, and you’re a lucky man, you know. Abby’s quite a woman.”

Gideon nodded. “I know. And I have you to thank for bringing her into my life.”

“It was my pleasure. It’s very satisfying to see that two people can successfully navigate the course of true love!”

Katie gave him a quick glance, then looked away as Gideon asked Jack to be his best man.

“Consent? I’d be honored! Except that I’m not certain I’ll still be in Columbia....”

“We’re hoping to have the wedding as soon as possible. Abby is off right now checking with Mrs. Barnstaple to see how quickly her dress, and Katie’s, can be done.”

“Katie’s?” Jack echoed, his tone casual.

“Katie will be the maid of honor.”

“I see.” He sipped his coffee. “Well, if this momentous occasion can take place within the next fortnight, you can depend on me to be by your side, my friend. I’ll just remain in town a little longer.”

Katie felt her cheeks growing warm as the two men shook hands again and was grateful for the distraction when a stranger entered the saloon.

Jack glanced up, too, his mouth going dry at the sight of Samuel Clemens walking toward him. Sam was smiling at the unexpected sight of his friend, and Jack knew a momentary sense of panic. Jumping off the bar stool, he walked forward, hand outstretched.

“Well, if it isn’t Samuel Clemens! I hope you remember me. The name is Jack Adams. We met in San Francisco this past summer.”

Sam caught the barely perceptible wink that Jack sent his way and managed to conceal his confusion. “Of course I remember you, Jack. I’d hoped that we were friends! I can only assume that you questioned my memory because each time we met you were sober and I was...
not”.

“It’s good to see you again, Sam, and to discover that your wit remains intact,” Jack said, laughing. “Allow me to introduce you to my friends.”

As the introductions were made, Katie studied Clemens. His was an interesting face—rather craggy, with deep-set, snapping dark eyes under bushy brows and a mouth that was partially obscured by a thick mustache. His head was crowned by a wild mop of reddish-brown curls. As he smiled at her with frank interest, Katie tried to place his name.

“Aren’t you a writer, Mr. Clemens?”

“I like to think so, though there are plenty who would disagree, Miss MacKenzie,” he replied with a chuckle.

“I knew it—you’re Mark Twain!” she cried. “I’ve read your work in the Virginia City
Territorial Enterprise,
and more recently in the San Francisco
Morning Star.
The stage drivers are kind enough to bring me newspapers when they think of it. You are very talented, Mr. Clemens!”

“And you are a young lady of rare taste and judgment,” Sam replied.

“Miss MacKenzie is not just the owner of this saloon,” Jack explained. “She is also a newspaperwoman herself. She’s on the staff of the
Columbia Gazette,
which is owned by Mr. Henderson.”

“Call me Gideon,” the young man protested. “And Katie and I
are
the staff of the
Gazette.
I couldn’t do without her.”

Unable to suppress her curiosity, Katie inquired, “Will you be in Columbia long, Mr. Clemens? I am eager to learn more about your trade, and would be very grateful for anything you could teach me.”

Sam was about to reply that Katie was already acquainted with a great source of knowledge—Jack—but his friend gave him a quelling glance. “Actually, I’m on my way to Jackass Gulch to spend more time with the Gillis brothers, but I’ll undoubtedly travel over here from time to time, especially now that I am acquainted with you, Miss MacKenzie—and Mr. Henderson.” Sam looked directly at Jack. “Do you know, I thought I was thirstier than anything else, but now I find that I have a powerful longing for a bath and a shave. Mr. Adams, would you mind showing me the way to the best barbershop in town?”

Jack smiled. “I’d be glad to. Then you can return here for a hot meal. What are you serving today, Katie?”

“Sausage and beans,” she replied, “with fresh gingerbread.”

Sam sniffed at the covered pans. “Smells wonderful! Save some for me; I’ll be back.”

When the two men emerged onto Main Street, Jack closed his eyes and laughed with relief. “My
God,
but the sight of you scared me! That’s been my fear all along—that someone from my other life would appear in Columbia and call me ‘Wyatt.’”

“Your ‘other life’?” Sam peered at him closely. “This is all very interesting. I must say, I wouldn’t have taken you for a man with a
secret
.” His tone deepened melodramatically. “Out with it now, my friend. Who are you
really
? Jonathan Wyatt—wealthy, disciplined owner of the San Francisco
Morning Star
? Or Jack Adams—gold country renegade and... and what? Prospector? Barfly?” Sam’s heavy brows rose questioningly.

“If I tell you, you must swear that it will go no further.”

“You have my word. I have some dirt of my own that I’ll ask you to help me keep under the rug.”

Jack nodded. It would be a relief to share the truth with a friend, especially one who was present in Columbia. They walked into a secluded grove of birch trees behind the Wells Fargo building. Jack glanced around to be certain no one could overhear, then said simply, “I’m the Griffin.”

Clemens’s mouth dropped open. “The foothills’ own Robin Hood? Are you serious?”

Jack nodded ruefully. “I’m afraid so. It began simply enough. Rush and Van Hosten had deprived my brother, Conrad, of the gold he discovered near here. I merely came up to Columbia to see that justice was done....”

“Unbeknownst to Conrad?” Sam was fascinated.

“That’s right. He still doesn’t know. In fact, the only person, outside of yourself now, who does know what I’ve been doing is my grandfather.” He paused to run a hand through hair. “At any rate, when I discovered how widespread the injustice was, one thing led to another, and I went on with it. I liked seeing the miners get their due, watching Rush and Van Hosten squirm. Then I returned to my life in San Francisco and thought to put an end to it, but I had to come back. I really hoped to resolve the entire situation without bloodshed.”

“Until Van Hosten and that saloon keeper were killed.”

“That’s right. And the saloon keeper was Brian MacKenzie, Katie’s father.” It pained Jack to speak the words.

“Oh, Lord.” Sam paled.

“It was Van Hosten who shot him, but no one knows that. It shouldn’t have happened. Everything began to get complicated when I returned to Columbia last summer and spent enough time here to make real friends. The charade began to seem real. When I went home, just before you and I met, my life as Jonathan Wyatt seemed rather dull and trite. I found that I missed my other identity. Sometimes I’m not certain anymore which man is really me!” Jack bent to pet a calico kitten so that Clemens couldn’t read the depth of emotion and conflict in his eyes. Sam watched him sympathetically.

“Now that little talk we had in your office makes more sense than ever. I can certainly see why you were so preoccupied in San Francisco, trying to pick up your ordered existence!” Sam gave a cough of dry laughter. “Believe me, I understand. I’ve had more than my own share of identities, with occupations of every sort in various locales.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t have come back here, but I felt compelled. When I heard that Rush’s henchmen had wrecked the
Gazette’s
printing press, I brought one up here.”

“A noble excuse!” Sam teased knowingly.

Jack smiled, straightening. “Thank you. I thought so at the time. But I didn’t consider the complications. I have friends here now, and I don’t like lying to them about who I really am.” He paused, rubbing his jaw. “It’s a mess. I was going to leave in a day or two, but now Gideon Henderson has asked me to stand up with him at his wedding, so I’ll have to remain for at least two more weeks.”

Sam was contemplating a tree branch as he listened to Jack’s story. “Katie MacKenzie doesn’t know that you’re the Griffin, and she believes that the Griffin is responsible for her father’s death.”

Jack winced. “That’s right.”

“What’s between the two of you?”

“I’m not entirely certain myself. We’re friends, when Kathleen isn’t furious with me.”

Sam pressed, “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“What makes you think so?” Jack asked uneasily.

“Well, I’m no expert on this sort of thing, but the air seemed to be charged between the two of you in a way that I’ve witnessed before. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t feel it between Jack Wyatt and Genevieve Braithwaite.” Clemens sniffed, took out a handkerchief, blew his nose, then added, “But, as I said, I’m no expert.”

“I... uh, appreciate your opinion, but the fact is that there can’t be anything permanent between Kathleen and myself. She doesn’t even know my real identity, and of course, beyond that, if she discovered that I was the Griffin, she’d kill me outright.” Jack paused, stared back toward the saloon, then shrugged.

Sam nodded slowly. “You’re right, my friend. It’s a mess.”

“Why don’t you tell me your own dire story en route to Snyder’s Shaving Saloon? Perhaps it will cheer me up!”