Thunder on the Plains (31 page)

“Miss Landers?” Sunny blinked and looked at Tom Canary, a close associate of Dr. Durant.

Blaine noticed she had been almost startled. Canary had asked her a question and she had not even heard. What was she thinking about? She had been watching him off and on all through the meeting. Was she having regrets about their last parting? Had she heard from that damn half-breed?

“I'm sorry,” Sunny was saying, blushing a little. “I was going over my notes and didn't hear you.” God, how she hated the patronizing smile Canary gave her.
Typical
woman
, he was probably thinking. She chastised herself for allowing her thoughts to wander.

“I was just asking if you followed up with the Doctor's suggestion as to how we can get more people to buy stock in the U.P.”

Another move that was close to a swindle. What did it matter if it meant getting enough private funding to release government contributions? The government had required a certain amount of stock in the Union Pacific be sold before they would start dishing out money themselves. Because so many investors hesitated to put their money into a still-questionable project, Durant had come up with a way around the dilemma. For every purchase of stock, a ten percent down payment was required. Durant had simply told his prospective investors that if they would buy the stock in their name, he would pay the ten percent out of his own pocket and they could pay him back when the railroad began making a profit. It was a wonderful scheme, and Sunny and several others had done the same. It meant that they, and especially Durant, would own the bulk of U.P. stock, more than the government allowed them to own, but the government would not know. U.P. accounting showed the stock was owned by others.

“Yes,” Sunny answered. “It's surprising how many new ‘investors' I found when I offered to make their down payment for them.”

There came a round of laughter at the statement, after which strategy for getting a new bill passed was discussed. Sunny could feel Blaine's eyes on her. She realized that in some ways she had missed him, missed their conversations about the railroad, the shipping industry, the stock market; missed going to the theater, going as a couple to functions in Washington, political conventions, and the like. They truly did have a lot in common, but now it seemed even Blaine was in her past.

The meeting finally broke up, and Blaine watched the men hover around Sunny, wondered how much she had been courted since he left. He damned himself for wanting her again the minute he set eyes on her.
Just
look
at
them
, he thought.
Who
wouldn't want to marry Sunny Landers and take her and her money to his bed?

Sunny answered questions, laughed at the proper times, flirted with them as she had even as a little girl to gain their confidence and support. She had apparently learned to use her great powers as a female to get just about anything she wanted, and he wondered if he could make her want him again.

Blaine moved closer, and the others disbursed, most of them aware that this was the first meeting between these two old lovers since Blaine's return from Oregon. Sunny was almost surprised he was singling her out at all. “Hello, Sunny,” he said, a hint of doubt and wariness still in his eyes. He studied her own blue eyes closely. How he wished those eyes would light up at seeing him again the way they had for Colt Travis the night of her party. Still, there was a certain warmth there.

“Hello, Blaine. You're looking well.”

“I, uh, I'd like to talk. Will you come to dinner with me?”

She looked away. “I don't know.”

He touched her arm. “At least let me tell you about my trip west, about Oregon. I imagine you'd like to hear all about it, seeing as how you carried on about the West yourself a couple of years back.”

She looked at him again. Yes, he still wanted her, and she was a fool to keep turning away from him. “I would like to hear about it. It's almost dinnertime now. We can leave right from here if you like.”

He brightened a little more. “Great.” His eyes moved over her hungrily. “You're more beautiful than ever. I didn't think that was possible.” He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “You know what I'm wondering, Sunny.”

She held his eyes. “No. I have never heard from Colt and I don't expect to. I told you two years ago that he wanted nothing from me, Blaine. It should be obvious to you now that he came to see me only out of friendship. I wish you could have understood that. You had no right saying some of the things you said, especially when Colt was not there to defend himself.”

Blaine touched her arm. “All right. For two years I've been wanting to apologize, Sunny. Let's go talk about this over a quiet table and a little wine, shall we?”

He took her shawl from her chair and draped it over her shoulders, wondering what she would think if she knew about the woman he had kept in Oregon. She was the virgin daughter of a Japanese prostitute who had been saving the girl for as much money as she could get for her. The girl had been trained to accept the eventual sale, and she had welcomed the wealthy, handsome Blaine O'Brien as her first and exclusive customer. He had paid dearly for the fifteen-year-old virgin so he wouldn't have to worry about disease, and the first night he took her he had imagined Sunny gasping with the pain and the glory of it.

Miko would be well paid to stay at his home in Oregon and wait for his return. It was a place Sunny would likely never go, so even after marriage he would have another warm body in his bed at night when he had to make trips to the West Coast.

Someday it
would
be Sunny in his bed. Now that he had set eyes on her again, he was determined to revitalize their relationship and pick up where they had left off. The fact remained that marrying Sunny Landers would bring him even more prestige and fame than he already had. Whether he loved her or not mattered little. Love was a ridiculous emotion. Desire, choosing just the right woman to present on his arm, marrying someone with a fortune that equaled his own—that was all that mattered. A man had to hold to his image, and marrying Sunny meant a grand wedding in New York City with lots of press coverage; it meant having children who could not help but be handsome and beautiful and intelligent; it meant that he had captured the most wanted but elusive single female in the United States, and probably the richest. Eventually, he intended to run for office, build his notoriety and reputation right up to the White House. A woman like Sunny for a wife could take a man a long way in life. She was worth going after again, worth waiting for. No other woman compared to Sunny—in looks, in wealth, in society's eyes.

He was not going to give up this time. Sunny Landers would belong to him no matter what he had to do to make that happen. Thank God that damn half-breed bastard was finally out of the picture. He realized now that he must have been crazy to think that someone like Sunny could ever have had any romantic notions about the man.

***

The smell of smoke aroused Colt, making him cough and roll to his knees. Now the pain hit him, a gripping vise at the side of his neck and left shoulder, a screaming headache. He looked around in a state of confusion. The night sky was black, but all around him the thick woods were ablaze, casting a bright orange glow on his surroundings, the flames licking toward him. He struggled to remember what had happened, where he was. He heard men screaming somewhere beyond the flames.

There was no time for reason or wonder. Instinct told him to run in spite of his pain, in spite of the weakness in his legs. It was either run or be burned alive. He turned and crawled through the underbrush, getting to his feet and heading for any area where there were no flames.

The heat was overwhelming, the smoke blinding. He stumbled over something, went down hard. He looked down, and by the light of the fire he saw staring eyes and an open mouth full of dried blood. He did not stop to see what color uniform the dead body wore. He ran again, putting his right arm over his face against the awful heat, unable to raise his left arm for the pain. He saw more dead bodies, and his injuries made his mind wander back to another fire, other smoke, a burning cabin. The dead bodies belonged to LeeAnn and his baby son. He screamed for LeeAnn, turning in a circle when the pathway ahead of him also burst into flames.

To his right he saw one small flameless area, and for a moment he was sure he saw LeeAnn standing there, beckoning him. “This way.” The words were whispered, yet he could hear them clearly. He stumbled toward the only exit, and suddenly the woman before him had blond hair and blue eyes and a wonderful smile. He felt a rush of cooler air, and the woman's figure vanished.

He realized he had somehow found his way out of the inferno, but in his confusion he had left his rifle behind. He ran, and suddenly he was in thick smoke again. He fell down coughing, then began crawling, the only way to keep from breathing the smoke.

Again the air cleared, and he got to his feet and moved blindly through trees and underbrush, tripping on branches and vines, feeling crazy with a need to get out of the thick forest that was fast becoming a blazing inferno. How he hated this place! Maybe if he ran hard and fast enough, he could make his way out to the blessed open prairie, where he could ride free and forget this hell. He kept running, leaving the fire farther behind him. He reached a clearing, and across it he thought he saw softly glowing oil lamps. Maybe it was his own regiment!

The blinding pain in his head made it difficult to tell for certain, for he saw everything in a haze. He headed for the lights, sloshing through some swampy ground, falling once. The left side of his neck ached so badly, he could barely hold his head straight. Somewhere far behind him he could still hear men screaming for help. He headed toward the camp ahead, finally reaching it, only to realize he had walked right into enemy territory. Men in gray looked at him. A couple of them smiled.

“Well, well,” one man muttered. “Look who stumbled in for a visit.”

Colt went for his pistol, but something hit him hard from behind. He grunted and fell forward, feeling gravel scrape his face. He felt someone turn him onto his back and kick him. Hands began feeling around his body.

“Looks like he ain't got any dangerous wounds.” Someone turned his head to the right, bringing on the excruciating pain at his neck. “Just superficial. Looks like we've got ourselves another prisoner, boys. Drag him over there with the others. First chance we get we'll get him on a wagon to Andersonville.”

“He looks different,” someone said, “like maybe he's Indian.”

“I don't give a damn if he's Chinese or Apache. He's wearin' a Yankee uniform. That's all that matters. Once he's spent some time in prison, he'll wish he never put that uniform on. Get him out of here.”

Colt felt himself being dragged, wondered if that was his scream he heard when the pain shot through his neck again. Someone kicked him in the groin. “Shut up, Yankee bastard!” He felt himself being tossed against something. It was not until that something moved that he realized it was a body. He heard someone groan, and the now-familiar odor of old dried blood stung his nostrils. He wondered if it was someone else's or his own.

***

Sunny sat and listened to Blaine talk about Oregon. It sounded beautiful, made her long to again go beyond Omaha to the plains and prairies and mountains. Such thoughts made her think again of Colt, but she pushed them away, deciding she would be wise to concentrate on Blaine. She had told him Colt was in her past, and she had to let it be that way.

“So, you love it too,” she said aloud.

“Magnificent country! But the trip out is so dangerous. If not for being with some good men and an excellent guide, I don't suppose I ever would have made it through Indian country and through the mountains. I understand more than ever the need for the railroad, Sunny, just like you told me once. I have to admit I was in this at first strictly for the investment, but it's become more than that, just like with you.” He took her hand. “I want to see you again, Sunny. Let's start over.”

She sighed, staring at the candle that lit their secluded table softly. Blaine had asked for a table in the most private area of the posh restaurant, away from staring eyes. “I don't know, Blaine. I'm still far from ready for anything serious, what with construction barely under way, and all the traveling I have to do. I'll be in Omaha part of the time, and I have more things to do in Chicago to get things in shape so I can be gone for long periods of time.”

“I know that. But we can share all this excitement together. Hell, I've got a lot of traveling of my own to do. Half the time I'll be here in New York tending to my own businesses. I just want to try again.”

She met his eyes. “Part of our problem before was that you were eager to marry, Blaine, and I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready.”

“I won't pressure you. We'll just let things happen as they may. Besides, once the construction gets started, you might change your mind. We can have a great life together, Sunny.”

She wondered again if the words
I
love
you
ever entered his mind.

“I'm going to France to see my mother and sister, but I'll be back by late summer. I'll come out to Omaha and we'll see what happens. Will you wait for me?”

She pulled her hand away and picked up her wine. “You know I will. Seeing other men in any serious respect is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Blaine wondered if there was any warmth to her at all. “Her name might be Sunny,” he had heard one man tell another earlier in the day. “But she's more like cold winter—all business and no fooling around.” He was convinced that somewhere deep inside this beautiful woman burned a passion as hot as the fires of hell. He just had to find a way to stir the coals.