Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (27 page)

Laughing, they set out. The morning was growing warm, and Clemens took off his coarse brown sack coat, a loose-fitting garment with high, short lapels that had become popular for the most informal of occasions. He draped it over his aim, loosened his collar, and began with a question. “Have you ever met my friend, Steve Gillis?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, you will. He left San Francisco with me. Actually, you might say that he
caused
me to leave San Francisco.” Sam glanced at Jack, eyes twinkling. “Steve and I are making a history for ourselves of leaving places in a hurry. One day I’ll regale you with the full account of our departure from Nevada, which came about at the invitation of the governor himself. Steve had gotten me involved in one of the duels that were fashionable in Nevada then, unaware that there was a new law against it. When the governor pointed it out to us, we decided to go to San Francisco rather than the penitentiary.”

Jack felt himself relaxing. Clemens’s laconic style both amused and entertained him. “It’s coming back to me now. Wasn’t Steve Gillis your partner in debauchery when you let rooms from that Frenchwoman?”

“That’s right. I’d like to blame him for all our adventures, but I suppose I must play
some
role in them....” Sam grinned. “At any rate, it’s been a rather quiet autumn, except for the trouble I’ve been making for myself as a newspaperman. I’ve been feeling a bit of heat for my attacks, bravely printed by your paper, on corruption of politicians and police. After you left San Francisco, I wrote a piece damning the mobs who hunt Chinese in the streets, and I received a few threats. Naturally, I’m far too courageous to run away, but Steve took the matter out of my hands.” His tone was ironic.

“You know that we’ll print anything you write,” Jack said seriously. “I gave Edwin Murray orders to that effect before I left.”

“I know, and I’m grateful. And I’m sure I’ll do more work for you if you’ll have me.”

“Now that that’s settled, tell me what caused you and Steve to make such a speedy exit from San Francisco.” The Presbyterian pastor and his wife nodded as they passed the two men, and Jack smiled in response.

“I’ll condense the story for your benefit,” Sam was replying. “We went out to a saloon one night, bemoaning the sad state of our social lives. But Steve is a man who likes a bit of excitement, especially after consuming whiskey. One thing led to another, and he became involved in a brawl. The authorities were alerted, Steve was taken into custody, and I was dispatched to raise the money to post bond. Once he was released, it seemed wise to absent ourselves from San Francisco for a while.”

“I see!” Jack laughed. “Your facility with words serves you well, my friend. What you meant to say was that you are now a fugitive!”

“Why would I
mean
to say a thing like that?” Sam replied innocently, then joined in his friend’s laughter.

“I just wanted to be absolutely certain that I understood the situation correctly. You and Gillis ran away from San Francisco, using his run-in with the police and assorted other unsavory types as an
excuse
to escape to Jackass Gulch, which you had been longing to do all the time.” Jack’s eyes glinted with amusement.

“I guess grown men need weighty excuses in order to leave the responsibilities of work behind and run off to the foothills,” Sam replied calmly.

“Truer words were never spoken.”

The two men nodded soberly, in unison. When they reached Snyder’s Shaving Saloon, Jack opened the door and smiled as his friend passed by. “I’m glad you’re here, Sam.”

Their eyes met for an instant in shared understanding. “I’m glad, too, especially now that it’s clear I won’t be bored!”

Chapter 19

October 22, 1864

“Lovely, just lovely!” proclaimed Victoria Barnstaple. She darted forward like a sparrow, hands fluttering to her bosom as she beamed at Katie. “My dear, that color is ideal for you! I could only be more pleased to see you wearing white—as the bride!”

Katie flushed. “Oh, Mrs. Barnstaple, let’s not think about that.”

“I know that your dear parents would want me to remind you that life’s true gifts are only possible when one has a mate to share with,” Victoria chirped.

Katie made no reply but waited patiently as the older woman put a few more pins into the yards of lavender-blue silk taffeta that flowed outward from Katie’s waist. “This is the stiffest, widest crinoline I’ve ever worn,” she murmured at last, squirming slightly.

“Well, that’s good! You should be used to the more disciplined aspects of womanhood by now, my dear. One day, after you’re married, you’ll be attending all manner of important social occasions, and you must be at ease in your corset and crinoline.”

Katie bit her tongue, then tried to change the subject. “I’m anxious to see Abby’s gown. She must look very beautiful.”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Barnstaple agreed distractedly. Inserting the last pin, she stood back and examined Katie with a critical eye. “You really do need a new hairstyle, my dear. How will you wear it at the wedding?”

“In a chignon, I thought.”

Victoria pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as if to gauge the overall effect. “Yes... Yes, that should look very nice. I wish you’d wear it that way more often. Anything but that braid! You know, Katie darling, you are blessed with extraordinary natural beauty. I cannot fathom why you go to such extremes to conceal it.”

Her frankness caught Katie off guard. “I’m not entirely certain myself, Mrs. Barnstaple, but I’ll think about what you’ve said.”

“Well, good. You may remove that gown now. I suppose you have to be getting back to that saloon.” She sniffed as she helped Katie lift the layers of taffeta over her head. “It’s not right, you know, a girl your age running a place like that. Some people would call it an open and shameless enticement to evil—”

“But you know our saloon isn’t like that!” Katie protested.

“You serve liquor, don’t you? I never approved of Brian letting you work there, and I approve even less of you, whose mother was a proper lady, acting as proprietress of such an establishment. It simply isn’t right.”

Katie stepped out of the crinoline and petticoats, then reached for her own frock of blue-sprigged cotton. “I appreciate your advice and I know you have my best interests at heart, but the simple truth is that the saloon is the only means of support available to me. I intend to make my own way, without having to depend on others.” She cast about for another subject. “Tell me, how is your niece? Is she enjoying her visit to Columbia?”

“Oh, yes, I think so, though she hasn’t made the acquaintance of many young women her own age.” Victoria began to fasten up the back of Katie’s dress. “She spends more time with that Jack Adams than anyone, and I shudder to think what her parents would say. But then, Margaret has always been headstrong. She wouldn’t heed my brother and his wife, and she won’t heed me. I love the girl, but—”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I do need to get back to the saloon.” Katie suddenly felt very warm. “Thank you for making the gown for me, Mrs. Barnstaple. I truly do appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m glad to help you and Abigail. She seems to be a nice young lady, and of course, I’ve always loved Gideon. His mother is one of my best friends.”

Katie backed toward the front door and lifted the latch. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Your gown should be finished by Thursday, which leaves us time for any last-minute alterations before the wedding on Saturday. Why don’t you stay for tea when you come to try it on?”

“I’d love to.” She kissed Mrs. Barnstaple’s cheek. “Good-bye!”

As she emerged onto Fulton Street, Katie’s smile faded. She’d tried not to think about Jack and Maggie Barnstaple; she’d told herself that he couldn’t feel anything for the other girl, not when he’d shared such intimacy with
her.
But if the worst were true, it cheapened everything that had passed between them. The fact that she had turned him away was little comfort. Katie continued to feel an intense attraction to Jack and that shamed her, especially because the memories of their lovemaking were still so vivid.

Fate seemed intent on testing her, for when Katie rounded the corner of Main Street, bound for the saloon, she saw Maggie Barnstaple and Jack standing in front of the dry goods store. He was holding her bolts of lace and striped silk, and the two of them were laughing at the antics of a calico kitten in pursuit of a butterfly.

Before she could think, Katie fled back around the corner. She knew only that she couldn’t face them. No sooner had she leaned against the wall of the Douglass Saloon to collect her thoughts than a beefy hand gripped her wrist. She gasped and stared into the face of a man she recognized as one of Aaron Rush’s henchmen. He wore a derby that partially covered the scar that slanted across his forehead.

“Excuse me, sir!” She tried to free her wrist from his grasp, fixing him with an angry glare.

“Settle down, missy, and heed my words,” the man growled. “You’re too pretty to be sticking your nose into affairs that don’t concern you. Watch yourself, or something might happen that’d make you wish you’d behaved more like a proper lady!”

In spite of the wave of fear and revulsion that swept over her, Katie’s outward composure did not waver. “You may tell Aaron Rush for me that his cowardly threats do not frighten me in the least. Unlike so many of the so-called men in this town, I will not be bullied! Now, unhand me!” She twisted free and walked away, head high.

“You’d better think again, girlie, before you find yourself in the kind of trouble that you can’t smart-talk your way out of!” the man hissed after her.

Katie strode onward, sensing that he had turned and gone off down the street. After a minute she realized that she was walking back the way she had come, but she had no desire to return to the saloon. Lim and Abby were both there; they didn’t need her. Besides, that hideous man was probably lurking on Main Street, waiting for her to pass him again so that he could mutter more threats in her ear. Without conscious direction, then, she continued up Fulton Street, her mind flashing back and forth between images of the man in the derby and Jack and Maggie laughing together in front of the dry goods store. She ached inside, she felt jumpy, and she longed to escape, if only for a few hours.

Samuel Clemens had stopped in the saloon again only two days ago. Fresh from a bath at the barbershop, and wearing a new shirt, he had regaled Katie with tales of his unsuccessful attempts at pocket mining. And before taking his leave, he had invited her to visit Jackass Gulch any time she wished.

It was the perfect solution, Katie decided, and, feeling a little better, she stopped at last to look around her. To her surprise, she found herself on the very doorstep of the livery stable. When she entered and heard Willoughby’s joyful whinny at her appearance, she took it as a sign that she was doing the right thing.

* * *

Samuel Clemens stood in the doorway of the Gillis cabin, shading his eyes against the sun as he watched Katie MacKenzie ride up the grassy, golden hillside scattered with scrub oak, pine, and manzanita.

She waved, and Sam waved back, drinking in the sight of her. Katie had hitched up her dress and petticoat to sit astride the horse, and her slim calves gleamed in the sunlight. Her slender shoulders and firm young breasts showed to great advantage in her snug bodice, and her smiling face glowed with good health. The wind had nearly loosened her braid, but it still flew out behind her like a banner, announcing the free spirit of its owner.

When Sam walked forward to help Katie dismount, he nearly succumbed to an urge to declare her beauty aloud, but he caught himself in time. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said instead. “Welcome to Jackass Gulch, Miss MacKenzie.”

“Didn’t you invite me? I might be mistaken....” Her tone was light, teasing. “And you must call me Katie. Everyone does.”

“I seem to remember my friend Jack using a more proper form of address.”

“Well”—she turned away to pat Willoughby’s damp neck—“I like to keep Mr. Adams at arm’s length. We don’t always see eye to eye.”

Deciding that it might be wise not to pursue the matter further, Sam took the horse’s reins and hitched him to the post in front of the cabin. “Tell me, then—to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Katie gave him a fresh, honest smile. “I was having one of those days that makes you long to be anywhere else! This seemed like a good place to escape to, and I knew I’d enjoy your company. I admire you and your work tremendously, Mr. Clemens—”