Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (8 page)

Katie moaned softly in protest when Jack’s mouth left hers. He buried his face in her hair, kissed her neck, then remarked with gentle irony, “We seem to have forgotten ourselves, Miss MacKenzie....”

Startled, she opened her eyes as the flush of passion drained from her cheeks. “I—but—”

“Please don’t slap me,” Jack begged, smiling, “or our performance will have been for naught.” His alert eyes watched the conflicting play of emotions cross her face. “Now, Kathleen, don’t look at me like that. Think of it as my birthday gift, the one you didn’t want to accept at the saloon that night. You’re twenty years old and it’s time you had a proper kiss.” Jack lifted her trembling hand and pressed it to his mouth before glancing at her with a hint of mischief. “You can be honest with me. Didn’t you enjoy it just a little?”

Katie swallowed and took a deep breath, but the storm inside her body would not be calmed. “I don’t wish to discuss this... incident. Ever. I’m going home.”

“We’re still being watched, so you’ll have to let me escort you.” When she nodded dazedly, Jack tucked her hand around his arm and they walked together up Main Street in silence. He sensed that she needed to be left alone, and he discovered that, for once in his dealings with women, he himself was confused.

When they reached the white picket fence that enclosed the MacKenzie house, they stopped, and Jack caught Katie’s arm before she could turn away. “Don’t look so stricken,” he said lightly. “It was only a kiss, engaged in for the benefit of Miss Chelstrom. It doesn’t bind you to me in any permanent way.”

She nodded, looking away, then Jack let go of her arm and she went into the house alone. Inside, it occurred to Katie that he might be returning to see Cecelia Chelstrom. Hating herself for caring, she peeked out the window and saw that he was walking east, toward Yankee Hill Road. Sighing, she leaned back against the door. The neat little parlor was just as she’d left it that morning, yet everything looked different. Jack’s voice echoed in her mind, repeating over and over, “Just a kiss... it doesn’t bind you to me...”

Kissing was something that Jack Adams did all the time, Katie imagined. He’d probably kissed hundreds of women. It might mean nothing to him, but she felt transformed. Somehow, a door had opened inside of her that she had been only dimly aware of before. It was as if an entirely new person had escaped from a previously locked room, a woman Katie didn’t know, and she wasn’t certain if she could force her back into captivity.

She walked into her sun-filled bedroom with its narrow, austere bed against the far wall and stared at herself in the bureau mirror. The beautiful eyes that looked back at her glowed with a new light.

“It was just a kiss,” Katie whispered. She touched her mouth. It felt slightly bruised, and the memory of Jack’s kiss and their mutual abandon sent a traitorously pleasurable shiver through her body. “How could I have done that?” she wondered, and was answered by the puckering of her nipples and a tingling sensation between her legs.

Suddenly Katie was angry—angry at her own body’s betrayal, at Jack’s cavalier attitude, at herself for loving the taste of him that lingered in her mouth and the his male scent that still clung faintly to her skin. She glared at her own reflection. “I refuse to feel this way!” she hissed. “It was just a meaningless kiss, he said so himself. A frivolous pleasure of adulthood. And Jack Adams is just a man. I would have reacted to such a pleasurable physical sensation the same way with any man.”

The woman in the mirror smiled back at her reassuringly. Katie remembered then that she had promised to bring some food to Gideon. She no longer had any appetite but decided to take him some of the ham, bread, and fruit that were left from last night’s supper.

Before she set out on her errand though, she brushed her tangled mane of hair, then braided it so tightly that it hurt.

* * *

The headquarters for the Rush Mine had recently been rebuilt of brick after another of the many fires that had plagued Columbia during its fourteen-year history. It was situated on a hillside east of town, overlooking one of the sites of hydraulic mining that had rejuvenated the gold industry in the area.

Harold Van Hosten’s office was smaller than that of his partner, Aaron Rush, but it reflected the prosperous image the mining company wished to project. Jack, sitting on a straight chair, was separated from Van Hosten by an ornately carved, mammoth cherrywood desk. There were large, gilt-framed oil paintings on the walls, and as they talked Van Hosten drank his whiskey and smoked a long cigar. Jack thought, with decided irony, that any dusty miner who came here to confront his employer would feel like a serf who had been granted an audience with his king. It was not an atmosphere conducive to honest communication or democratic fair play.

“I like you, Adams,” Van Hosten was saying in velvety tones. “It’s not often that I meet a miner with obvious intelligence as well as ambition and physical strength. I think that you could have a bright future if you come to work for us. If you’re patient, you just might have a position in management one day. On the other hand, you could go on working claims independently, but surely a perceptive man like yourself is aware that the day of the lone prospector is over in the Sierras. The surface gold is played out.”

“That’s the rumor, anyway,” Jack replied laconically.

Van Hosten lifted his pale eyebrows. “I’d say that it’s a proven fact. It’s very rare for a man to discover an appreciable amount of gold with a pan or a pick these days.”

Jack’s eyes looked even more catlike than usual as he gazed calmly across the desk. When he spoke, however, it was only to say, “I’ll have to take your word for it, Mr. Van Hosten. You’re certainly in a position to know.”

The older man smiled thinly. “I realize that it must be difficult for an ambitious young man like yourself to trade dreams of glory for something more realistic, but you wouldn’t regret it. I can guarantee you a fine, successful future.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Well, initially you would be an assistant of sorts. The business has reached the point where there is more supervising than either I or Mr. Rush can handle. You’d be a fast learner, I’m sure, and your responsibilities would increase accordingly.” He exhaled a strong-smelling cloud of smoke. “Of course, we’re willing to pay handsomely for a man of your caliber.”

“Of course,” Jack echoed with a barely perceptible note of disdain. He paused then, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “Well, Mr. Van Hosten, I would say that you have made me a very attractive offer. I’d like to accept, but I’m afraid that I can’t make any commitments. If I find that I’m dissatisfied, or if something serious develops in one of my other business interests, I would be forced to resign.”

Van Hosten nodded, considering. “I’m willing to take that chance—and the only commitment I would require from you is one of absolute loyalty.”

Jack grinned. “I’m as loyal as an old dog. When do you want me to start, and what do you want me to do?”

“You can come in tomorrow, Adams, and I’ll begin to show you the way we do things around here. Then I’m planning a trip by stage to our bank in Sacramento next week, and I’d like you to accompany me. As you might suppose, I’m rather concerned that the Griffin might once again attempt to separate me from the money I am taking... or even from this earthly body. Your sharp wits and strength should be of great service.”

“I’ll be there, sir.”

Van Hosten poured himself another glass of whiskey. “Are you certain you won’t join me? I’d say that our agreement calls for a toast!”

Standing up, Jack put out his hand. “Have an extra shot for me, Mr. Van Hosten,” he said, smiling, as they shook hands. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss dinner with the MacKenzies, and my hostess will be out of temper with me. Actually, she has seemed quite out of temper with me ever since we met, but I haven’t given up hope of winning her over....”

“Go along, then, but don’t expect Katie MacKenzie to thaw out just because you’re on time for dinner. Many a man in this town has tried to discover the way to her heart, and all have failed. If you solve the mystery, you could sell the secret formula and retire a wealthy man!” Van Hosten laughed loudly and drained his glass. “Good evening, Adams. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. At six.”

Jack longed to utter an exclamation of protest but forced a smile instead as he backed toward the door. “Yes, sir. Good night, sir—and thank you.”

* * *

The scene at the dinner table was comfortable and homey, unnervingly so, as far as Katie was concerned. As she ladled fricassee of rabbit with baby carrots and potatoes onto a platter, she cast a sidelong glance at Jack and her father, who were cozily discussing Columbia’s current petition for incorporation. Brian launched into an explanation of his position on the issue, and Jack leaned back in his chair, listening with an affectionate smile. He looked completely at ease and content. Freshly washed, he’d rolled up his sleeves to display handsome brown forearms, and droplets of water still clung to the hair that curled at the back of his neck. Unbidden, the memory of her fingers in Jack’s hair rose up to torment Katie. She wished she could scour the feel of it from her hands, erase the pleasure of it from her mind, and was reminded of Lady Macbeth.

When she set the platter on the table, Brian asked, “Are there any more of those biscuits from breakfast, darlin’?”

“I’ll get them,” Jack said, rising. “You sit down, Miss MacKenzie. You’ve done enough work for one day.”

Unable to meet his smiling eyes, Katie nodded and obeyed. When Jack passed next to her, she breathed in his clean scent and felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Are you feelin’ all right, Katie?” Brian inquired, peering at her in the soft lamplight. “You look a bit out of sorts.”

“No, no, I’m fine. A little tired, perhaps. It’s been a busy day.”

MacKenzie sniffed the fricassee appreciatively, then served himself. Jack offered Katie a biscuit which she took without looking at him.

“I see your braid has been restored,” he observed.

“Yes.” Katie spread jam on her biscuit with painstaking care.

“That reminds me!” Brian boomed suddenly, startling them both. “How could I have forgotten? I saw Victoria Barnstaple on my way home and she told me the wildest tale! Sometimes I swear that woman’s a secret tippler. She said that the two of you were
kissing
in the middle of Main Street today, with, as she put it, ‘shocking enthusiasm,’ and that Katie’s hair was all unbound, flowing down her back!”

Katie choked on her bite of biscuit while Jack grinned at his host. “What did you reply, MacKenzie?”

“Why, I just laughed and told her that I’d outgrown fairy stories forty-odd years ago!”

“Well... Mrs. Barnstaple wasn’t completely inaccurate,” Jack said carefully. “We weren’t in the
middle
of Main Street, but I suppose that, to the casual observer, it might have appeared that we
were
kissing.” Katie’s eyes flew up to meet his, and he offered her a reassuring smile. “Your daughter very selflessly agreed to
pretend
to kiss me so that Miss Chelstrom, whom you will recall meeting earlier today, would believe that I was no longer romantically available. Miss MacKenzie did me a great favor and I am now deeply in her debt.”

“Oh.” Brian swallowed some gravy-drenched rabbit and tried to make sense of what he had just heard. “So it was all an act... not a real kiss, then, hmm? I suppose you were just kissin’ Katie’s chin or thereabouts, and it looked like the real thing, right?”

“Something like that,” Jack confirmed with a sober nod. “And, as I said, it was a great sacrifice for your daughter to suffer my touch at all, considering the way she feels about me. You should be proud that she possesses such generosity of spirit.”

“Now, Jack, I’m sure my Katie bears you no ill will, and after all, she’s aware of my fondness for you. No doubt she did it in part because she knew it would please me, isn’t that so, lass?”

Both men were looking at her, forks poised over their plates. Katie wanted to scream. “If you don’t mind, Papa, I’d rather forget the entire incident. It really was meaningless. Can we talk about something else?”

“Certainly, love, certainly.” Brian, his brow knit in confusion, cast about for a new topic of conversation. “Jack, why don’t you tell us what else you did with your day?”

He took a long drink of water, then smiled bravely over the rim. “Well... I accepted a job offer from Harold Van Hosten. I start work tomorrow morning as his new assistant.”

With a gasp of outrage, Katie leaped to her feet and threw her napkin at him. When Jack caught it deftly, his brows flying up in half-amused surprise, her fury doubled. “That does it! I can’t bear another moment in this man’s company! And to think that I felt sorry for you, the way I might feel sorry for a starving dog! If I had had any idea what you planned to do, that you intended to work for that corrupt
murderer,
I would never have taken pity on you or suffered your touch for even those few moments!” Although Katie’s eyes flashed with rage, her voice trembled as if she were dangerously close to tears. “If I never see you again, it will be too soon!”

With a strangled cry, she fled to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Jack winced, looked over at the puzzled MacKenzie, and murmured with his usual trace of irony, “It’s no use trying to deny it. She does
not
like me!”