A Moment in Time (16 page)

      
"My...place?"
 
The words sounded like a curse from Cole's lips.
 

      
"Of course.
 
You see anybody in here you know?"

      
Cole looked around and shook his head.
 
"Nope."

      
"Then no one will ever suspect straight arrow Cole Morrison," Merriweather continued, his eyes glowing with blatant avarice.
 
"And, by damn, that preacher gets a lifetime of free drinks."

      
"I dunno."
 
Cole slapped his hat against his thigh and his cheeks colored.

      
My God, he's blushing.
 
There was something incredibly sexy about a man who blushed.
 
Damn.
 
She was pitiful.
 
They were talking about her life, and all she could do was stare at Cole's chest and shoulders.
 
Had her staring made him blush?

      
But what choice did she have but to play along?
 
Besides, three weeks might be enough time to convince Cole to return her to Devil's Gulch.
 
This really was her only hope.

      
"
Triple
the money, Morrison."
 
Merriweather held up three beefy fingers.
 
"Triple.
 
In gold."

      
Cole met Jackie's gaze for the first time in several minutes and she shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing.
 
"All right."
 
He sighed.
 
"I don't like it, but I'll do it on one condition."

      
"Fine, fine, as soon as the tailor is finished taking a few measurements for the alterations, you two can be on your way."
 
Merriweather faced Jackie again.
 
"Three weeks from tonight, a full house, and fifty percent of the take.
 
Deal, Miss Belle?"

      
Jackie drew a deep breath and nodded.
 
"Deal."

      
"I
said
there's one condition," Cole said, his voice tinged with impatience.

      
"Yes, of course.
 
One condition.
 
What?"
 
Merriweather waited, but Cole's glare was for Jackie.

      
"What?" she echoed, wondering why he thought she had any control over anything in this mess.

      
He moved so close she could smell him.
 
Feel him.
 
Almost taste him.
 
Jackie's breath froze even as her body warmed.
 
It took every ounce of self-restraint she could muster to keep from leaning into all that bare chest.
 
His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared slightly.

      
What a man.

      
He shook his finger in her face.
 
"You can only stay at my place if you make a solemn vow."

      
"What?" she repeated.
 
"Do you think I'm going to compromise your virtue or something?"

      
Merriweather guffawed.

      
Cole leaned even closer, his eyes glittering dangerously.
 
"No singing."

      
Jackie couldn't prevent her laughter, but Cole was the only one wearing a deadly serious expression.
 
"Okay, no singing."
 
She held her hands up in surrender.
 
She'd agree to almost anything to gain more time to charm Cole into taking her back to Devil's Gulch.

      
Merriweather mopped his eyes dry and stopped laughing.
 
"Then it's settled.
 
I'll see you both back here in three weeks."
 
He pointed a finger at Cole.
 
"And if you deliver her safe and sound then, the gold is yours."

      
"Not so fast, Merriweather.
 
What about what you already owe me?"
 
Cole towered over the saloon owner, his expression stern.
 

      
"Wouldn't you rather have a lot more later than a little now?" Merriweather asked in a patronizing tone.

      
Cole leaned closer.
 
"I'd rather have
both
."
 

      
Merriweather gave a snort and nodded.
 
"Very well, I'll get the first installment."

      
"
And
a shirt."

      
"And a shirt."
 
Merriweather rolled his eyes.
 
"Oh, there's the tailor now, Miss Belle, to take your measurements.
 
Wilson, you can use my office."

      
A small man carrying a case followed Merriweather, and Jackie gathered she was expected to join them.
 
With a shrug, she obeyed, figuring it best to cooperate now and savor her freedom later.
 
Silently, she was grateful that Cole followed close behind.
 
For some reason she trusted him.
 
Strange emotion for a woman to feel toward her kidnapper.

      
Dark and gaudily carved mahogany furnishings occupied Merriweather's office.
 
The seat cushions and drapes were the same red velvet with silver trim as the stage curtain.
 
At least the rotund man was consistent with his horrible taste.

      
Cole pulled on a stiffly starched shirt more than a few
 
sizes too large and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans, then slipped his suspenders back in place.
 
Jackie stifled her sigh of regret that his muscular chest was no longer on display.

      
But she had the next three weeks alone with Cole.
 
A tiny shiver of excitement raced through her, and she silenced Aunt Pearl's voice in the back of her mind.
 

      
I don't have to listen to you while I'm here.
 
She'd deal with Aunt Pearl later, after she returned to her own time.
 
Now, she was a free agent with only her own conscience to guide her.

      
Scary thought.

      
Seriously, her own conscience was more than enough to keep her in line.
 
Besides, hadn't she learned her lesson with Blade?
 
No more men for Jackie Clarke.
 
Too much trouble
.

      
Then why couldn't she convince her hormones of that?

      
The fitting wasn't nearly as humiliating as she'd expected, though the tailor did grumble about how much he'd have to alter to make the gowns fit her more modest bust and hips.
 
Jackie amazed herself by keeping her comments to herself, though she grew increasingly aware of Cole's approving gaze aimed in her direction.

      
The man made her hot.
 
Get a grip, Clarke.
 
Forcibly quelling her rampant libido, she endured the fitting in stony silence.
 
Finally, she and Cole were making their way back through the front room of the Silver Spur.
 
Long shadows stretched across the room as they maneuvered their way through the crowd of gawking miners.
 
These guys were worse than the Brothers Grime back at the Gold Mine Saloon.
 
Almost.

      
Only a few yards from the swinging front doors, a chill washed over her and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
 
Someone was staring at her.
 
She almost laughed.
 
Of course, an entire room full of men were staring at her.
 
However, her uneasiness persisted and she looked toward a card game in the corner.

      
A pair of hauntingly familiar dark eyes met her questioning gaze.
 
Her heart slammed into her chest and a cold sweat coated her skin.
 
A desert overtook her mouth and throat, and no amount of swallowing provided relief.

      
"Come on, it's late," Cole said, steering her toward the doors.

      
Jackie watched those dark eyes following her until she emerged into the late afternoon light.
 
The cool mountain air revived her and she shook her head, denying what she'd seen as Cole helped her into the saddle and swung himself up behind her.

      
"You sure got quiet all of a sudden," he said, nudging the horse away from the Silver Spur and the town of Lost Creek.
 
"I don't reckon it'll last, though."

      
Jackie looked back, leaning to the side enough to see past Cole.
 
She half expected to find the dark-eyed man in hot pursuit, but the lone street stretched empty behind them.
 
It had to have been her imagination.
 
She faced forward again, willing her hands to cease their trembling, and her pulse to slow to a moderate pace.

      
Anxiety made way for another emotion, one she hadn't felt since before her trip through the looking glass–rather, Lolita's portrait.
 
Anger and a raging thirst for revenge.

      
She clenched her teeth, gripping the saddlehorn until her knuckles whitened and her fingers ached.
 
Was it possible?
 
Could he really be here, too?
 
The man's dark eyes, his unshaven face, his inky hair merged in her mind's eye to taunt her.

      
Blade.

Chapter 6

      
Cole rushed the mare as much as he dared through the darkening mountain pass.
 
Todd would be worried.
 
Besides, Cole never left his son alone this late.
 
The little guy might be self-reliant, but he was still just a child.

      
"Did you see that man?" Miss Lolita asked after an uncharacteristically long silence.

      
"Which man?
 
The place was crawling with men."

      
"The one in the corner who was staring at me."

      
He chuckled.
 
"They were all staring."

      
"Yes, but..."
 
She sighed, her shoulders slumping.
 
"Never mind.
 
It must've been my imagination."

      
Something was obviously worrying the woman, but Cole sensed she didn't want to talk about it.
 
Thinking back, he couldn't remember anyone, other than Merriweather himself, being rude or unseemly toward her.
 
Maybe she did recognize the man she was worried about.
 
A woman like her must know more than her share.