Quicksilver Passion (197 page)

Stop them!” she shouted at her bartenders and card dealers.
Get out there and do something! Stop them!” But no one seemed to hear her or pay any attention, they were all scrambling for the exits.

Gray Dove stood transfixed for a moment as angry men ran through the front door with their flaming-sticks.

They were going to destroy everything she had worked for—everything that meant anything to her! She had worked too hard and too long to stand by idly and let that happen. With a curse, she ran behind the bar and grabbed a shotgun even as someone torched the velvet stage curtains and some of the chairs.

In the smoke that billowed and drifted around her, she hardly saw what she was aiming for, but she fired and the man fell. His torch rolled across the floor and against the ornate bar.

Stop it! Stop it, I say!” She ran out from behind the bar, swearing and swinging the shotgun, but no one paid any attention to her at all.

Two men grabbed up whiskey behind the bar, took big gulps, then poured the remainder on the flames. The red fire roared even brighter. All the faces around her glowed with a strange light, the flames reflected in the wild, wide eyes. She might as well be dealing with wolves!

Water! What she needed was water! There was always a bucket behind the bar for just such emergencies. Gray Dove ran behind the bar, grabbed it, and splashed it on the flames that had now reached the bottles of whiskey. The bottles began to explode as they got hot, the alcohol feeding the flames. She had to get away from here! Lifting her skirts, she ran from behind the bar and looked around for help. All her employees and the customers had deserted her, running helter-skelter for the doors. Even the whores ran screaming down the fancy stairway, half-dressed, followed by men in their underwear, carrying their boots. Within minutes, only she and a dozen crazy men with flaming torches were left inside.

This was her saloon, and she wouldn’t let them burn it!
She ran up to one man and fought him to jerk the torch from his hands. When she did so, she swung it as a weapon and caught him across the face with it. His scream was so high, it hurt her ears, and then it broke off in the middle.

Stop it! God damn it! Stop it!” All around her, tables and chairs and velvet cushions blazed. Men were raiding her liquor stock, drinking, and pouring some on the floor so the flames leapt along it. The acrid scent of burning was all around her, the smoke swirling. The saloon lit up in an eerie glow. Then the heat reached the mirror behind the bar and it exploded like a cannon shot, sending a shower of glass tinkling in every direction.

The Palace was fully ablaze. She wouldn’t be able to stop it. The whole fire would be out of control in a few minutes. She could only save what she could carry out in her arms.
What was of the most value in the world to her?

She paused, looking up the ornate stairway. Already the lush scarlet carpet on the stairs smoldered. She had only a couple of minutes to get up there and get out before she was trapped. Coughing and choking on the smoke, Gray Dove ran up the stairs and stopped uncertainly in the hall. She hadn’t seen the governess or Waanibe run out. No doubt they were still asleep in their rooms.

What did she care most about?
Once it would have been the child, when she thought Wannie was I ron Knife’s. As Jake’s whelp, the little girl meant less than nothing.
Money. The gold dust Jake had put in her big safe
.
The
fabulous jewels in the box on her bureau
. Yes, those she could carry out in her arms. With that much wealth, she could start over someplace else.

She ran into her office. First she would get the gold out of the safe and as much money as she could carry, then she would save her jewels.

Faintly, she heard Wannie crying and afraid.
Jake
Dallinger’s
child.
Gray Dove didn’t want her; she never had. She realized that now as she ignored the cries and ran to her safe. All the child had meant to her was that someday Gray Dove might use her to get her true love back. Besides, the brat liked the governess best. Well, let them both find their way out the best way they could!

Gray Dove knelt by the safe and began to work the combination. She would sweep all the gold and silver into her skirt and carry it that way, then go save her jewels. There wasn’t a moment to lose—the building burned fiercely, the flames lighting up the dark office. She felt the heat around her and hesitated, tempted to get up and run for the back stairs.
Her money
. She couldn’t leave it behind. She still had a couple of minutes to save her treasure if she hurried.

The child sobbed faintly but Gray Dove didn’t even look up as she swung the heavy door open. The flames behind her reflected off the gold and silver coins stacked in neat piles inside, the beaded bags behind that. Gold and silver—a lot of it! Enough to give her a fresh start someplace. Maybe San Francisco.

Gray Dove raked some of the treasure off into her skirt. Beneath her, the floor trembled and she realized the hungry flames were gradually devouring the framework that held up the second story. The safe shook slightly.

Cautiously, she looked around. She had a skirt full of money; she ought to make a run for it. But there was still so much more in the safe.
Her
treasure.
Hers!
She had worked and cheated and schemed to get it; she wasn’t going to leave any of it behind! The fire seemed all around her now, the heat unbearable on her dark skin.

A spark fell on her sleeve and she slapped it out with a shudder. When she was just a girl, she and her mother had been captured by aPawnee war party. Gray Dove had bought her own life by helping the braves torture her mother to death by fire. Then she charmed the warriors with her body until she managed to kill one and escape as he raped her.

Fire. The old memories came back and with it, the horror of burning flesh. No, she didn’t want to burn to death, there couldn’t be a worse way to die. The building shuddered a little as the floor slumped. She saw the black safe tremble uncertainly and she tried to jump backward, out of its way, but the skirt full of glittering treasure slowed her, and she stumbled as she tried to jump clear.

Almost in slow motion, she fell back as the big safe toppled forward and gold and silver coins went everywhere, ringing as they hit the floor and rolled. The heavy safe crashed forward even as she tripped in trying to get out of the way. Gray Dove screamed with pain as the iron safe crushed down on her ankle.

For a moment, she was in such pain, she thought she would pass out.
Her leg!
She was caught like a rabbit in a trap. Even though it was agony to pull at her leg, she did it, knowing she had to escape or die. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Any minute now, the second floor would crash down through the ceiling, taking her and the safe straight down into a fiery hell.

She would not die the way her mother had died! Gray Dove was a survivor. She would crawl out from under this thing and make it down the back stairs. Frantically, she struggled. Forgotten now, gold coins rolled away from her skirt and clattered as they spun on the floor. With desperate hands, she beat and pushed at the great iron safe, struggling to lift it from her leg.

She felt the heat of the flames moving closer. She would not die by inches like some primitive Indian torture. She would not die like her mother! A knife! If she could reach a knife or a piece of broken glass or anything sharp, she would cut her leg off and crawl down the back stairs. Gray Dove twisted and pulled to reach anything she might be able to use, but the only thing within reach was money—lots and lots of gold dust and piles of coins.

Useless. So useless
. She would trade them all right now for a ragged piece of metal or a man brave enough to come into the office and lift the safe from her leg. But as she had been that long-ago day among the Pawnees, everyone was intent on saving his own life. No one came down the hall to answer her shout for help.

She began to scream in sheer terror, but the roar of the flames drowned out her voice. She saw her mother’s agonized face before her now, resigned, calm. Gray Dove was going to die as her mother had died after all—except she would be surrounded by her treasure, trapped by that she valued most. She threw back her head and laughed, feeling the scarlet flames already singeing her hair.

Silver ran through the cold November night toward the faint glow of the fire ahead.
Could it be the Palace?
As the only frame building left in the area, it had to be!

She rounded the corner and sighed as she saw the raging flames. The Palace! It was the Palace! An unruly crowd stood out front, watching the building burn.

Gasping for air, Silver pushed her way through the mob to the front.
The Duchess! Has anyone seen the Duchess? Did she get the child out?”

The men looked at her, shame and drunken bewilderment on their unshaven faces. Obviously no one had thought about the little girl. Silver paused uncertainly, the heat from the inferno hot against her face. There were hundreds of people in the street watching the fire, dance hall girls mixed with loafers and prospectors. The Duchess could be somewhere in the crowd, but Silver didn’t see the child anywhere.
I’m going in!”

One of the men caught her arm.
You can’t go in there, lady, that place is a tinderbox! Anytime now, the whole thing will collapse!”

That was true. Even as Silver stared up at the roaring flames, she knew that in only a few more minutes, the structure would be totally consumed. But Wannie might still be in her little bed asleep and no one else appeared ready to save her.

Silver pulled out of his grasp and ran toward the front entrance.

Stop her! Stop that crazy girl! She’ll burn to death!” But Silver was too quick for them. Skillfully, she eluded hands reaching out to stop her and dashed through the doors of the Palace.

So this was what hell was like
, she thought as the heat seemed to reach out for her, with all its bright orange and red and yellow. The smoke grew so thick it choked her and brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t see—how could she find her way?

The stairs
. She could make out the fancy stairway in the glow of the flames. Silver ran up the stairs, although most of them were already on fire, the steps hot under her small feet.
Wannie? Wannie? Are you up here?”

For a moment as she paused in the hallway and looked below, she thought only of herself and what a terrifying way it would be to die, the second story collapsing down into that roaring inferno. She almost turned and ran back down the stairs, wanting to save herself. Then she heard the Duchess scream for help. Silver stumbled into the office and saw the woman pinned beneath the safe.

Save me! Save me! I’ll give you anything! Anything you want!”

Silver ran to her, choking and coughing on the sooty smoke. One look told her the story—the money and the gold were scattered around. The Duchess had tried to save her wealth and the safe had fallen, trapping her.

Hold on! I’ll move it!” Silver put her shoulder against the safe and tried. She would only have to lift it a few inches to free the Duchess’s foot. She strained and pushed while the woman screamed. No use. In her zeal to protect her fortune, the Duchess had bought only the very heaviest safe. The thing must weight a half a ton or more.

Silver looked around for a board or anything she might use as a level. If she could just move it a couple of inches ...

She found a board and put it under the edge.
I’ll move it!” she puffed.
I’ll move it now!”

The weight of the safe made a liar of her. She strained with everything in her to move the safe those precious, life-giving inches. Perspiration beaded on her face and her arms ached as she struggled. Nothing happened. Around her, the flames leaped higher.
I’ve got to get help!” she shouted.
I’ll get men to come up and lift it!”