Quicksilver Passion (18 page)

The shoemaker came in with a package under his arm, walked upstairs, and came back down. Cherokee watched him go to the roulette wheel but wouldn’t let himself question the man. How Cherokee wished he could have seen her face as she opened the box. Would she like his gift? Would she accept it? But of course she didn’t know he was the one responsible.

The noise abated suddenly, and heads turned. Cherokee knew even as he looked toward the stairs that Silver must be coming down.

She wore a sparkling silver dress that accented her light hair and diamond jewelry. It was tight on her small body, emphasizing her slim waist. Her full breasts swelled from the top of the low-cut bodice. On her feet, she wore the dancing slippers with real silver heels. The shoes glittered in the light as she crossed over to the piano and leaned against it.

The rough crowd quieted then began to applaud. Cherokee found himself clapping, too, caught up in the moment, in the love that flowed from this crowd toward the girl and her almost angelic beauty.

Silver motioned for silence and signaled the piano player. Cherokee found himself holding his breath as she sang:

Listen to the mockingbird, listen to the mockingbird, the mockingbird still singing o’er her grave . . .”

Once as she looked around the crowded, smoky saloon, her gaze found Cherokee’s face and they looked directly into each other’s eyes.

I love you,
he said silently with his eyes,
I need you, Silver, and you need me, too.

Her voice faltered a split second and she looked away. Thereafter, she seemed careful not to look his direction as she finished her song.

He didn’t care. He was certain she had gotten his silent message and he was satisfied.

She sang several songs while the place remained quiet as a lover’s sigh. Every man there seemed to hold his breath so as not to miss a single note of her high, sweet voice. Finally she finished to thunderous applause and the piano broke into a fast, rhythmic beat even as Silver ran lightly up the steps to the stage.

As she began to dance, the silver heels of the shoes caught the light and sparkled with her movement. Men began to nudge each other, pointing them out and nodding in approval.

Cherokee leaned back on the bar with both elbows and smiled. It didn’t matter that she would never know he had provided the silver for the shoes; she wouldn’t have accepted them if she’d known that. It was enough that the silver he had dug from his own claim decorated her tiny feet.

As she finished and took a bow, the men began to shout:
Silver! Silver Heels! Silver Heels!”

She blushed prettily, took another bow, and the roar from the rowdy miners grew.
Silver! Yes, Silver Heels!”

She came down from the stage and motioned to the piano player to play another number. As she ambled through the crowd, the men gave her one last, wistful look and returned to their cards and drinking.

She was coming toward him. Cherokee felt awkward and a little unsure of himself. He pretended nonchalance.

She stepped in front of him.
I think we need to talk.”

Us?” He touched his chest in mock surprise. Good! She was going to be grateful. At least that was a start.

Silver gestured to the bartender.
Al, bring us some coffee, and the cash box.”

Al appeared to be grumbling under his breath, but he moved to do her bidding. Silver marched away from the bar. Cherokee, not knowing what else to do, trailed after her, feeling very much like a lost hound pup.

She walked to a private cubicle that was curtained off from the saloon, where she could sit and watch the customers through a gap in the red velvet curtains. Cherokee followed her there. She sat down at the table.

He almost got up the nerve to sit next to her, then took a look at her face and decided against it. He sat down across from her. Her eyes were almost a clear, deep green now. She looked angry.

Al brought the coffee and the cash box, put them on the table, and hesitated.
I’m as near as a shout, Silver.”

She smiled at him.
I know that, Al. Close the curtains as you leave, will you?”

The barrel-chested little man looked as if he might protest, then shrugged and did as she ordered. The heavy velvet curtains blocked out much of the noise and music.

Cherokee decided to make light of it.
Al seems to think I’m a threat of some kind.”

Are you?” She looked directly at him and he realized abruptly that this was an honest person. This was no coy, game-playing female.