The Union (11 page)

When the strike began in April and the mines shut down, the remaining scab miners hurriedly relocated their families elsewhere, generally under the cover of darkness. The union ran the last stubborn family out over a month ago. Keely felt blessed by the ensuing silence. But her heart pounded now. Was greater trouble coming?

She shook her head, thinking. She hoped not. But she couldn't think. Suddenly, she recalled an innocuous snippet of conversation she’d overhead earlier in the day. Something about old Jack Catridge, the crazy independent miner whose cabin sat up next to the creek at the edge of town. Oh heavens! Were they going after him? She couldn't let them hurt the old fellow. He might be touched, but he was harmless. He didn't belong to the union because he had no need.

Goosebumps pilled on her arms. Her heart thudded in her ears. Cold fear gripped her. Suddenly she wished for Michael. He would have known how to stop them. She reached for her shawl and paused. Should she get McCullough? She bit her lip again in indecision. No, he needed his rest. She'd have to do this one on her own. She wrapped the shawl around herself and headed out, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter 7

Keely never appeared with that tray. What kept her? Noise from the street, a mixture of ringing bells and bass voices, roused Dietz from his musings. Damn. Something was up. Reluctantly, Dietz pushed himself up out of bed and went to the window, cursing. Men filled the streets, called to a union meeting. Silently, he watched them stream into the union hall across the street. Nearly five hundred miners, angry and on the march.

He started to turn away, intent on going back to bed. Whatever trouble the union bosses had in mind could be accomplished without McCullough. No one would expect him to participate after his heroics earlier in the afternoon. But a quick glimpse of auburn hair, coifed into a neat knot, slender curves, and a walk with a sway arrested him. Keely. What had brought her out into the mob? Suddenly, his heart thudded wildly.
 

Directly across the street, Mrs. Shipley came out of her store. Dietz watched Keely swim across the stream of men and join her on the boardwalk. The two women chatted, apparently casually.

Half an hour passed with Dietz glued next to the window, pressed back out of sight from the street, watching Keely. Fatigue tore at him, enticing him back to bed. But fear for Keely kept him in place. The union hall rocked with a chorus of shouts akin to a passionate amen. Something had been decided. Moments later, men poured out of the building into the fading dusk, carrying torches and lanterns, wearing bloodthirsty looks. Keely left Mrs. Shipley on the boardwalk and blended into the mob. Dietz swore. He picked up his trusty Colt's 45, hefting the piece in his hand. Then he slid out of the room, out after Keely.

Following the crowd required no detective skill. Dietz kept to the fringes, in shadow, as the last of the light faded away. The crowd ambled to the edge of town, crossed back over Canyon Creek, followed the high grade railway tracks past the mill, and came to a halt in front of a small untidy cabin that listed to the left. Though a few other women had joined the crowd, it wasn't difficult to spot Keely. Dietz moved into the shadow of an overgrown white pine. As long as Keely remained where she stood, firmly positioned midcrowd, he figured she'd be safe.

His shoulder throbbed like hell. He leaned back against the pine to watch the action, fingering the Colt, eyes trained on Keely and those surrounding her.

Waters stepped to the front of the crowd. "Catridge! Get the hell out here, you damned scab!"
 

The crowd cheered. Flames from lanterns and torches lit faces in grotesque caricature, aided in their distortion by the ugly emotion of hate. Was it his imagination, or was Keely trembling? At least she had enough sense to be frightened. Or was it rage? Unfortunately, neither emotion proved strong enough to send her fleeing home. He had half a mind to grab her and drag her back there. What compelled her to watch the horror certain to unfold? Just how deep did her support for the union run?

Someone fired a shot into the cabin. Dietz instinctively ducked. Heated laughter drifted to him on the breeze waving the pines overhead. Waters held up his hand to silence the crowd. The listing door swung open, revealing a confused old man. From his vantage point, Dietz couldn't hear the old man's pleas. But from Catridge's posture, Dietz knew plead he did.

On command from Waters, two thugs, one of them Lunn Gaffney, stepped forward and grabbed Catridge, shoving him roughly toward the swarm of miners. Gaffney pinned the old miner's arms back so tightly Catridge winced and wore a pinched expression. Another cluster of men stepped forward toward the cabin, torches blazing, their intent clear.
 

"Stop!" Keely's voice echoed off the pines. Pushed to action, she bore through the crowd toward the cabin. As if the miners suddenly remembered their manners, they parted to let her through. The men near the cabin froze.

Dietz swore, and moved out after her, keeping to the outside of the crowd, his gun cocked and ready. He circled round to the front of the cabin, angled to where he could see Keely's face and keep an eye on the crowd at the same time.

"Jack Catridge is no scab." Keely turned and faced the men. Her voice shook. Dietz, trained in observation, noticed everything about her. Couldn't help himself, as his heart thudded away wildly, pounding out a beat of fear for her like he'd never felt for himself. Her hands trembled. Her voice pleaded for sympathy. She licked her lips too often. They shone moist and sparkling in the moon and torchlight. Delectable. Keely—curvaceous, beautiful, and afraid. Damn, he didn't want to, but he had to admire her conviction and courage. She'd more guts than any man in the crowd. With that kind of fortitude she made a powerful ally and a strong enemy. He'd never admired a woman's character before. It was another damned dangerous thing about her.

Scanning the crowd, Dietz didn't miss the looks the men gave her. Some glared with anger, others, hatred, and most, a hearty dose of lust. He had to get her out of here. Whatever her position on violence, she had chosen to fight a battle she'd never win.

"He doesn't belong to the union," someone shouted.

"He has no need. He's an independent. You know he doesn't even mine galena. He pans for gold." She stepped up next to Catridge.

"He's crazy," Waters said.

"He's harmless." Keely leveled her gaze at Waters. "You know that, Mr. Waters." She addressed the men gathered. "Men, I know you're frustrated and angry at the owners. We all are. But why punish an innocent man? Why vent your anger like this? It will only hurt our cause. Don't you see?"

"Step out of the way, Miss Byrne, or I'll have to have you restrained." Rancor edged Waters' voice.

Keely didn't appear to listen. She stepped next to Gaffney and touched him lightly on the arm. "Let him go, Lunn. Please."
 

Her pleading tone ate at Dietz, especially her begging a man like Gaffney and the apparent intimacy between them. Gaffney's expression softened. He looked like he wanted to please her, and Keely seemed to know it, the wily woman. How was Dietz supposed to get her out of this mess?

Waters nodded toward two men. "Relieve Gaffney," he said. "Gaffney." Waters nodded toward Keely.

"You're making a mistake, Mr. Waters. I don't believe President O'Brien would approve of your methods. How convenient you didn't see fit to notify him."

Gaffney stepped up behind Keely, took her by both elbows, and pressed himself indecently close to her. "Miss Byrne didn't mean any harm. You know women and their delicate sensibilities. Their hearts are always bleeding for someone. I'll see Miss Byrne safely home. She won't be causing any more trouble. I promise." In that instant, the look on Gaffney's face as he touched Keely cut through Dietz. Dietz saw something darker than love written there. He saw obsession. It sent him reeling with disgust and an emotion he'd never felt before—jealousy.

As to seeing her safely home, did that include ravaging her? Gaffney craved Keely. That much was obvious.

Dietz stepped from the shadows into the long lantern light with his gun at ready. "I'll take Miss Byrne home."

Waters smiled at him. "How good of you to join us, McCullough. Couldn't imagine you'd want to miss the action." Waters nodded at Gaffney again. "Give McCullough his woman."

Keely clenched her jaw at Waters' comment. She didn't like being possessed, huh? With obvious reluctance, Gaffney let her go. Dietz stepped up to take her arm. Right now the woman needed a protective man. She needed him.

"McCullough." She threw herself into his arms.

Dietz had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out in pain. His shoulder throbbed like hell at the jolt.

Gaffney glared at him. His lips formed the word bastard. Dietz took it as a warning.

"McCullough, make them stop." Keely's eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at him. He hated that she used the same method of appeal on him that she had used on Gaffney. And Heaven help him, he wanted to please her, too. He was really no better than Gaffney, except that an overwhelming desire for her safety overrode any notion of humoring her.

"What do you think of our little excitement, McCullough?" Waters asked.

Dietz smiled in reply.

"What should we do next, McCullough? Tell us." Waters' smile resembled more of a leer, an angry scowl. With his question, he clearly tested McCullough, and Dietz knew it. Was McCullough loyal to the union or his woman?

"Torch the place."

The miners cheered at Dietz's confident reply. Keely gasped. Behind him, Dietz heard the men who carried the torches stomp up the board stairs into the decrepit cabin.

"Run the old man out. But let's be gentlemen. Dispatch him to Wallace, and put him on a train. Hell, pay his fare. Miss Byrne is right. There's no need for bloodshed tonight."

"No, indeed." Waters smiled. Dietz saw admiration and a sinister form of victory shine in Waters' eyes, like he'd figured out how to solve a dark puzzle to his own ends. Dietz didn't like it. "Gaffney, get your men and take Catridge away." Waters spoke with the ease of a powerful man.

Gaffney slunk off sullenly with Catridge and a group of thugs in toe. Keely wrenched free of McCullough's embrace and ran off toward home, obviously angry and upset with Dietz. Waters laughed. "Good luck with your woman, McCullough. Looks to me like you better marry her soon. So as to keep her in line."

"Yeah." Like hell. He didn't need the kind of trouble she brought on him. Usually he'd be enjoying himself to no end over the excitement of the mission. Plotting and planning. Hanging out in bars. Drinking with the boys after the excitement finished up, energy coursing through him giving him the high he lived for. Now he'd have to go make up with a woman and damned if he didn't half want to.

On top of it all, Gaffney appeared more dangerous than Dietz originally had thought. A man obsessed with a woman was a loose cannon for sure, too unpredictable for any measure of safety. Well, maybe Dietz would let that be the crowning glory of this mission. He'd see Gaffney locked up and safely away from Keely.

"Well, go after her, man," Waters said. "I'll clean up here."

Yeah, sure. Waters would clean up good. Dietz didn't like taking orders, but protecting Keely seemed more important than making a point with Waters. Dietz took off after her.

He caught up with her near Canyon Creek. Behind him he heard the gasp of a flame taking life, and then its angry birth cry—a roar. Keely strode on. He let her have her lead and her space until they got to the boardinghouse. Then he'd had enough. He caught her in the kitchen.

"Keely."

She stopped and turned to face him. "How dare you!"

"How dare I? How dare you. Do you realize what a foolish thing you did out there?"

"Do you realize what those miners intended out there?"

"I do." He ran his fingers back through his hair. Could she be that naive? Didn't she know who McCullough was, what he'd done?

"No, I don't believe you do. They meant to kill that man in any hideous, ugly way they could. You haven't seen them. You haven't seen their cruelty. They're so frustrated. They don't know what to do other than show their anger, retaliate."

Oh, he knew about cruelty. He'd seen far more than he hoped she'd ever imagined.

"Michael would have stopped them."

"Michael would never have gone on a fool's mission. He knew which battles to fight."

"How dare you presume to know my brother better than I do? If you were half the man he was, you would have stopped them." She turned on her heel. He caught her by the elbow.

"I trained him. I know what he would have done. The same thing I did myself."

"No." She shook her arm. "Let go of me."

"Not until you listen to me."

"No, you listen to me, Ian McCullough. I will not marry a man of violence. A coward. You pack your things and move across the street to Shipley's in the morning."

He should have let it go right there. She'd given him the out he'd wanted. But something greater was at stake—her safety, his.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promised Michael that I'd take care of you. Call off the wedding if you like, but I'm staying to see to your safety until this thing is over." For once in his life, Dietz spoke the truth.