Margaret Brownley (30 page)

Benjamin slapped a hand on the table and glared up at Logan. “You can’t deal unless you play.”

“No law says the dealer has to play,” Logan said.

“He’s right,” Sharkey said, arranging his hand.

Benjamin glanced at the other men before picking up his cards.

“You can count me out,” Sharkey said.

“Me too.” McGuire tossed his hand down and called to the bartender to bring him another beer. That left only Benjamin and Big Sam in the game.

Benjamin picked up a stack of gold coins. “I’ll raise you.” He fanned out his hand with a great flourish, so sure was he that he’d lost. “I have a no-pair hand,” he announced triumphantly.

Big Sam’s teeth flashed. “Why, look what we have here. Another no-pair hand.”

Logan leaned over Big Sam’s shoulder. “Yep! Looks like no-pair to me. That means the hand with the highest card wins.”

“That’s your hand, Benjamin,” Sharkey said. “The king beats Big Sam’s jack.”

Benjamin’s mouth dropped open. He glared at Logan. “How did you do that?”

Logan managed a façade of innocence. “Do what?”

“You know what! Make it so that I won!”

Logan feigned a wounded look. “You’re not suggesting I cheated, now, are you, Benjamin?”

“I’m not suggesting anything.” Benjamin said thickly. “I’m out and out saying you cheated.”

Big Sam spread his hand over his chin. “That’s gotta be a first. A winner accusing a loser of cheating.”

Benjamin glowered. “What do you have to say, St. John?’

Logan shrugged his shoulders. “I believe ten percent of your winnings comes to around twenty dollars in gold.”

It was nearly midnight by the time Logan left the Golden Hind. A canvas bag heavy with gold dust, gold coins, and nuggets slung over his shoulder. The generous cache clinked together with each step he took.

Overhead, stars shone brightly from a velvet black sky. In the distance, a coyote let out a yipping howl and then fell silent. Had Logan been living in the wilds, such a sound would have brought him sitting upright in his bedroll, keeping him awake until every sound and shadow and odor had been carefully measured, and the possible reason for the coyote’s warning cry had been determined. But tonight, Logan focused only on the light shining in the distance that told him that Libby was still awake and was quite possibly waiting for him.

He quickened his pace, pausing only momentarily in front of her house before climbing the steps to her porch. He knocked gently so as not to awaken Noel.

Libby called through the door. “Who is it?’

“It’s me, Logan.

The door opened and Libby stood looking at him with eyes that seemed to caress him with their softness.

“I’m sorry to bother you this late.”

“It’s not all that late.”

“I wanted to give you this.” He held up the bag. “This is ten percent of tonight’s winnings.” What he didn’t say was that he had seen to it that pretty near half had come from the man responsible for Macao’s injuries.

Libby took the pouch in her hands and almost dropped it. “So much,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“May I come in for a moment? I know it’s late but….”

“Please, do come in.” She stepped aside to let him in, and it was then that he noticed Thornton sitting by the fire, holding Noel over his shoulder. The domestic scene had the same effect as a blow to his stomach.

Thornton nodded curtly. “Logan.”

Swallowing his dislike of the man, Logan nodded in kind. “I’m surprised to see you here so late.”

“I could say the same about you.” Thornton said.

“Would you like some coffee, Logan?” Libby asked.

“No, thank you,” Logan said thickly. He plunked himself on the chair across from Thornton and stretched his leg toward the warmth of the fire.

Libby set the bag of gold on the table. “I can’t tell you how obliged I am to you and the others. Would you give everyone my thanks?”

“I’d be more than happy to.” Logan tried to ignore the visual daggers from Thornton.

“It will mean so much to Macao.”

Thornton’s look darkened. “I told you that asking for help was totally unnecessary. I would have gladly paid for Macao’s fare home myself.”

“I’m most grateful for your generosity, Thornton. But I’m afraid it might have put you in a difficult position. The only way I could think to avoid future repercussions was to get everyone involved in paying Macao’s fare. That way, no one person need take the blame.”

Thornton shifted Noel from one shoulder to another. “I hope you’ll at least permit me to arrange for Macao’s journey to Sacramento City. In fact several of my men will be heading in that direction day after tomorrow. It would be a small matter to arrange for Macao to leave with them.”

“Does that mean the roads are clear?” Libby asked and the hope in her voice cut Logan to the quick.

“My men will be armed with picks and shovels,” Thornton said.  “One way or another they’ll get through.”

“Then it’s settled.” She took her sleeping son out of Thornton’s arms. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She left the room, leaving Logan nothing better to do then glare. Thornton looked only too happy to return the favor.  Upon her return, Logan made an unsuccessful bid to hide his contempt for the man beneath a demeanor of polite tolerance.

“Are you sure I can’t get you some coffee?” she asked Logan

“It’s getting late,” Logan said, staring pointedly at Thornton.

Thornton rewarded him with a frosty smile. “Don’t let us keep you.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Logan replied, making no move to leave

Libby looked from Thornton to Logan and back again. She looked tired, exhausted, and Logan felt guilty. No doubt Noel had kept her awake the night before.

But since Thornton showed no inclination to leave neither did Logan. The hour grew late, the conversation more stunted and the glares between him and Thornton more pointed.

Finally, Libby took matters into her own hands. She stood abruptly, hands on her hips. “I’ll bid you both a good night.”

Thornton took the cue and promptly rose to his feet. He reached for his hat and gloves.

Logan stood lazily as he watched Thornton don his ridiculous beaver hat.  Logan grimaced. Had he known how absurd the hats looked, he might have pursued another profession.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said graciously.

Thornton glared at him. “How very thoughtful of you.” He took Libby’s hand in his own. “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening.” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

Libby blushed. “Why, Thornton, you are such a gentleman.”

“And you are such a lady.” He smiled smoothly and released her hand. He opened the door and waited for Logan.

Libby turned to Logan. “Thank you again, Logan, for everything you’ve done for Macao.” She gave him her hand. Logan took it in his, and with a smooth motion that surprised even him he drew her into his arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Belatedly he remembered to hold his hands so God could see them.

When he released her she looked dazed, stunned, and who could blame her? Even he was shocked at his own behavior. If the open-mouth stare was any indication, the same could be said for Thornton. To say that all three of them were flabbergasted would be putting it mildly. Now he’d done it.

With Libby’s sweet essence still on his lips, Logan brushed past Thornton and limped the short distance to his own cabin. Once inside, he didn’t bother to turn on his light or stoke the fire. He didn’t need fire. He lay down on his pallet and stared at the ceiling. He could still envision Libby’s stunned look after he kissed her. He’d be lucky if she ever talked to him again!

Whatever had possessed him? Not only had he succeeded in making a spectacle of himself, he’d embarrassed Libby in the process. And for what?

Unable to sleep, he climbed out of bed and peered through the open door. A soft light flickered from her cabin windows. She had not yet retired and he dreaded to think what was surely going through her head.

*****

After the two men left, Libby stood in front of the fire gazing at the dying flames. Her lips still burned with the memory of Logan’s kiss.

She should be angry—furious—at such out-and-out impudence. She
was
angry and furious. How dare he?

She paced around the room. She fumed and fussed and called Logan every name she could think of but nothing would make the warm shivery feelings go away.  As much as she hated to admit it she liked his kiss.  Liked it a lot.

Such feeling filled her with a deep and sorrowful remorse. As much as she loved Jeffrey in the early stages of courtship and marriage, he never once set her heart afire the way that Logan was able to do. Nor had Jeffrey ever filled her with such deep longing.

Now she was comparing Jeffrey with Logan.
God forgive me.
  Not only was this unfair to Jeffrey, her guilt felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders.

She reached for the little carved dream keeper that had been Macao’s gift to Noel and opened the lid. It surprised her to find the box empty. She was so certain she had placed the locket containing Jeffrey’s hair inside the box for safekeeping. Finding the locket missing, she fought back panic.

It had to be in the room somewhere. It had to be! She dumped her sewing supplies on the floor and frantically pawed through the spools of thread and fabric scraps. She scrambled across the room to check under the furniture and ran her flattened palms over the deep nap of the bearskin rug. She rummaged through boxes and apron pockets. Every nook and cranny, including the bookshelves in the bedroom, was given a thorough search. The locket was nowhere to be found.

Feeling defeated, she fell to her knees, her eyes blurred with tears. Without the locket and Jeffrey’s hair, it was harder than ever to recall her late husband’s face. Nor could she remember her husband’s kisses. Not with any sort of clarity. Not with any emotion.

How could she, with Logan’s kiss burning like hot cinders upon her lips?

What was it about this strange, raw land that made everything so much more intense, including feelings?

As shameful as it was to have to admit to such things, she couldn’t deny the indisputable fact that had Thornton not been present that evening, she would have welcomed Logan’s kiss with wide-open arms.

Macao left town that Monday. He was wrapped in blankets and placed in the back of a wagon heading for Sacramento City. Thornton assured her that his men would make the arrangements for Macao to board a ship for Canton.

Libby wished her friend well and watched the wagon pull out of town. A group of Chinese men stood huddled together as their leader was driven away. A few planned to stay in Calico Corners, but most had decided to head for San Francisco where they could band together with others to fight the unfair laws that prevented them from owning property or earning an honest living.

A cold wind blew down from the snow-covered mountains, but the sun was warm, and Libby decided to plant the wildflowers dug from the surrounding hills.

Actually she was waiting for Logan. She had not spoken to him privately since he’d taken advantage of her two nights earlier, but she decided it was time to tell him exactly what she thought of his scandalous conduct.

Just thinking about that night disarmed her and she ended up digging a hole that was far too large for its intended purpose. She stared into the gaping hollow with dismay. She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice she had a visitor.

“Good morning, Mrs. Summerfield.”

Startled she looked up and smiled. “Pastor Genesis.” She stuck her spade in the ground. She was wearing a blue sunbonnet to protect her complexion from the sun, and the blue ribbons fluttered in the wind. “Why aren’t you at the diggings?”

“I decided to seek my treasures elsewhere.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve found yourself a mother lode that no one else knows about.”

“More or less. Except, I intend to share it with everyone. I’m going back to being a full-time preacher.”

Libby was delighted to hear this. “That’s wonderful.”

“I got to thinking that the Lord works in mysterious ways. He brought you and Noel into town and as a result, we have the prettiest little church this side of the Mississippi. It seems such a waste not to put it to good use.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Touched that Preacher Tucker thought she and Noel were sent by the Lord, she stood and threw her arms around him.

Genesis blushed and looked almost relieved when she pulled away. He cleared his throat, straightened the white ribbon around his collar, and adjusted his wire framed spectacles.

“As I was saying, it seems only fitting that I do my part. From here on, I’m making it my business to assume full-time pastoral duties. In addition to Sunday services, I shall visit the sick and conduct proper Christian funerals.” He leaned closer. “Of course I would much rather perform weddings and baptisms, but there isn’t much call for such happy occasions out here.”