Jasper Mountain (31 page)

Rolf, the giant miner, stood at the bar. He was so big; Mouse could see his shoulders and head above everyone else’s. Luke, the curly-haired man who used to be a miner, was with Rolf, talking and buying him drinks. Mouse didn’t like Luke. Although Luke grinned and laughed all the time, he was mean. He didn’t fool Mouse. He had been the object of Luke’s tormenting, and he, for one, was glad Luke didn’t work at the mine anymore.

Luke shoved money to Sam and a shot to Rolf, who threw it back. Rolf looked mad. Mouse planned to stay out of the giant’s way. Mostly Rolf left him alone and that was fine.

Mouse had tried to stay out of Luke’s way at the mine. Luke always played tricks, like crashing something loud behind him for the other men to laugh at Mouse’s deafness. Once he tripped Mouse and then one time set his lunch pail out of reach. That wasn’t the worst ever. The worst ever was longer ago when he had asked Mouse and Da to shovel out after a blast although it was his job. Luke had told Da he’d pay him the money he owed from poker if Da did this for him, and they needed the money bad, so they agreed. That day, the explosion had happened and Da died and Mouse lost his hearing.

Nope, Mouse didn’t like Luke at all.

Luke bought another drink for Rolf and talked a whole bunch. Rolf turned redder and his fist clenched around the glass. He threw back his whiskey. He seemed to get madder and sadder the more Luke talked. Mouse wondered why such a giant would be sad. Sure, plenty of things could make a giant mad and mean. But sad? Mouse thought he saw tears in Rolf’s eyes. They didn’t fall.

Rolf slammed down the glass and headed out the door, Luke right behind him.

Sally came down the stairs, a miner tagging behind. She scanned the room, probably looking for new quarry. Mouse didn’t want it to be him. He darted through the crowd, headed for the door and ran out, glad to be safe, out of Sally’s reach. He saw Rolf and Luke walk down the main road, heading out of town. Mouse knew he should just go home, but he couldn’t help it, he was curious. Where were they going?

The giant staggered a bit. Luke laughed and kept talking. They were up to something. It might be best if he kept these two men in his sights. Mouse was the smallest of the miners, and he could follow and they wouldn’t see him. He might find something out and then wouldn’t Jack be proud of him and think he should keep Mouse around?

He sure hoped so.

Music fell away and the tickle of bubbles slowed. The deep tones of the mountain died as silence consumed the cavern. Milena fell into place as a mere mortal. She opened her eyes.

The Hunter of Women kneeled at the mouth of the Heart, the candle in his hat an intrusive and accusing eye. How did he find her? She unsheathed her father’s
choori.
She had survived the
MoortYak,
and she intended to survive the Hunter. Most important of all, she must protect this sacred place. She sprang to her feet.

“You will die.”

Amazingly, Jack Buchanan sat back on his heels and tried not to laugh, the mirth in his eyes unmistakable. Shock caused her to hesitate, only for a moment.

She narrowed her eyes. “You find this situation worthy of laughter?”

“No, no, not at all.” He put his hands up, palms to her. “I’m unarmed. I won’t hurt you.” He kept grinning, as though he found her most entertaining.

She did not flinch. “How did you track me here?”

“Actually, your music brought me. I was investigating the mine, trying to find some tunnels … oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I heard you singing.” His amusement wore off, and the look of wonderment he wore the night at the Boarding House softened his face. “Milena, it was beautiful. What kind of song were you singing? Your people are Romani, right? Was the song from them?”

She sensed no threat from him, yet he was the Hunter of Women and friend to Rolf and the King of the Jackals. She’d seen handsome faces masking evil and cruelty before.

Beth, too, was friend to this man, which did give her pause.

“I swear I heard other voices.” He shrugged. “Probably the echoes.” He looked around the Heart Chamber and lowered his hands. “This place is incredible, isn’t it? I’ve never seen anything like it. How did you ever find this place?”

She refused to be lulled by his babble or distracted by his questions. “You hunt me. So here I am. I will not allow you to take me to the sheriff to hang.”

“What?” Confusion replaced the look of awe. “Hunt you?” he asked. “I’m not hunting you. Why would I do such a thing?”

“You did before. With Rolf.”

He hiked his shoulders. “Milena, he told me you were his wife. I thought you were lost and might be hurt. I only wanted to help.”

“And you hunt me down to aid the sheriff,” she challenged, raising the
choori
higher, to point right at his face.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no love lost between me and Cain. The man is an idiot and a bully. Even if I could, I wouldn’t help him with anything.”

She wanted to believe him, and sensed no deception from him. However, her life was at risk, and he might have the powers of a sorcerer. Perhaps that was why she felt no threat from him. She refused to lower her guard, no matter how honest and friendly he might appear.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he asked. “I thought Isabella kept you ladies close at hand.”

Not close enough. She’d killed a man. Although she did it while defending herself, guilt washed through her. Her anger faltered and she dropped her gaze to look at the floor. “I am no longer welcome at the Boarding House.”

“Why not?”

She knew the shame of her crime showed on her face, but if she would be forced to kill this man, she owed him the truth. “I killed the King of the Jackals. Victor Creely.”

Jack Buchanan looked at her in shock, his mouth dropping open. He closed it, seemingly bewildered. Then he started laughing. This time, he laughed so hard he fell back to a sitting position.

This was insanity. She was now forced to defend her life and perhaps to murder yet another man, and he was acting like a fool.

She watched. Without humor.

He wiped his eyes. “You? Milena, you’re the one who brained Victor?”

“I do not expect you to understand.” She met his eyes. “He attacked me.”

He rose back up to his knees, all merriment gone. “Did he hurt you?”

“Why do you care? It is only a matter of time. I will be hung.” “For braining Victor?” Jack shrugged. “The official story is some miners attacked him. I’m serious, Milena, I’ll kill him myself if he hurt you.”

The
choori
shook. Was this a trick to lower her defenses?

“Besides,” Jack continued, “there are about a hundred people who’d like to take credit for thrashing Victor right into the clinic. My guess is it serves him best to say it was miners.” Jack smiled at her, a faint one, but a smile just the same. “Especially since it was really a woman who put him there. He’d never admit to any such thing.”

Blood rushed from her head and she felt dizzy. “Serves him best? Admit? He still speaks?”

“It’ll take a whole lot more than a thunk in the head to keep Victor Creely quiet.”

She sank back down, her legs no longer having the strength to hold her. “The King, he is not dead?”

“Dead? Hell, no, whoops, pardon me,” he said taking off his hat. “Where are my manners? I forgot all about this.” He set the hat beside him, the flame of its candle flickering. “Milena, you didn’t kill anyone. Victor was alive and raising a ruckus when I last saw him at the clinic.”

She lowered the
choori,
not sure why she held it up She pondered Jack’s honesty and sincerity. Were they real? Was he genuine? Was this a man to trust? She did not forget she’d seen men smile and speak pretty words one day and murder her family the next.

She opened to him and sensed no false flattery, no lies of charm covering horror of the soul. This man’s heart stood behind the words he spoke. She froze with uncertainty, not knowing what to do, to think. Should she trust what she felt or her life’s experiences?

“Milena, are you all right?”

“I thought … I thought I killed a man. You tell me I have not. I thought you hunted me to aid Rolf.” She looked at Jack’s face, gentle with understanding. “You did not. How could I be this wrong? I am supposed to understand. To see.” She shook her head. “I see nothing.”

“Fear can get in the way of anything. I don’t profess to understand any of your mystic stuff. I imagine fear can block that, too. Milena, considering everything you’ve been through since you arrived in Jasper, it’s amazing you even realize what day it is.”

“It is day?”

Jack smiled. “Well, probably night.”

“I will not hang for the murder of the King of the Jackals,” she said, just to put her relief into words.

“He’ll never admit a little woman like you put a dent in that hard head of his. I think you’re safe on that count.”

She relaxed, soothed by the warmth of his easy humor. She wanted to move closer, but instead shifted back, not ready to forge an open connection. Not yet.

He watched her intently, his face flushing red from the neck up.

“Your face burns, Jack Buchanan.”

“It does that when I get embarrassed.” He spoke just above a whisper. “And I have to tell you, no one flusters me the way you do.” He cleared his throat. “Milena, may I change the subject for a moment?”

She nodded, relieved to talk of anything other than sheriffs and jackals. She sensed something was coming he found difficult to discuss. He struggled with the words. She prepared for anything, and found herself hoping, for what, she wasn’t sure. But still, hope filled her, wide and warm and wanting.

“With all your background in hocus-pocus, I need to ask you something.”

She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but this wasn’t it. She hid her disappointment. “Hocus-pocus? What is this?” “Uh, magic.”

“Oh.”

“Yesterday, in the mine, the platform slipped and one of my men fell down the main shaft.” “I am sorry.”

“Well, the good news is Doc Kline thinks Mouse will make a full recovery. What I want to ask you about is what I saw.” He shook his head. “Mouse was in a tunnel, and I was about to pass him up. I had a hard time seeing real good. I saw, I saw—”

“Jo,” she finished for him.

He nodded. “I keep thinking that Victor told you about her, that’s how you know I have a twin sister and how she died.”

“You doubt yourself, your abilities to see into the Otherworld. This is what keeps you from her. She needs you, Jack Buchanan. She must settle with you before she moves on.”

Red drained out of his face as he paled. “You really saw her?” he asked. “In the garden?”

“Yes.”

“Is she here?”

Milena shook her head. “This place is sacred. A sanctuary. Not a place for restless spirits. In Jasper, she is almost always by your side.”

“Oh, God.”

“You spoke of fear as a barrier. This is true for you, too. There is no reason to be afraid, especially not of your Jo.”

“I’m not really, but I don’t think I believe any of this.”

“Do not think. Feel.” She smiled faintly. “Why is it men deny fear as well as the unknown? It is no shame to be afraid or see the unfamiliar. You have every reason to believe in the Otherworld. You have heard, you have seen, yet you look away. The choice is yours, Jack Buchanan. It always is. It always was.”

Mouse followed Rolf and Luke to the grand mansion below the town. Mouse used to hear tell of it, when he was able to hear. The Boarding House, full of fancy ladies. Da had told him never, ever to go near the place, although he couldn’t figure out why. It was such a nice house.

Luke clasped Rolf on the shoulder and handed him a bottle. Had he brought more whiskey from the saloon? Mouse hoped not, because Rolf had drunk enough. Luke turned around and headed back up to town. Mouse was relieved he was hiding in the bushes when Luke passed.

Rolf hunkered down behind some trees near the house. It was raining. Why didn’t the big man go in? It must be too late, except the house was all lit up. There was a couple on the porch. Rolf stayed crouched and Mouse did, too.

The couple went inside. The rain let up. This was good, because he was getting cold.

Rolf rose to his feet and hunched over, creeping to a side window. He raised his bottle. Then Mouse saw the wick. Rolf struck a match and lit it.

This was not good.

Rolf threw the lit bottle through the window and jogged back to his place in the trees and hid.

Inside, light grew as the fire did, too.

J
ack didn’t want to walk away and leave her inside the mountain by herself, but Milena insisted. She’d wanted him to leave. She felt safe in her chamber, and once she was convinced he wouldn’t drag her back to town to hang, she seemed completely content to stay there.

Working his way back down the mountain was peaceful until the chaotic jumble of Jasper reached him. Wagons creaked, horses clopped, shouted obscenities sailed through the air, hollers of drunks echoed up the mountain. The stamping mill pounded a steady beat under the din. So much noise, and constant.

Compared to Jasper, inside the mountain was heaven. Bat guano and all.