The Union (21 page)

Dietz expected a fight, some sort of recrimination from Waters. Instead, admiration shone in Waters' eyes. Frustrated, Dietz turned, ready to retrieve his Colt's 45 and head back to town and a stiff drink.
 

Waters' laugh stopped him midstep. "I like your priorities, McCullough. Business, then wife. Fine, go make up with her now. Comfort her. Come see me in my office tomorrow. We have exciting plans to make."

Lunn slumped, concealed in the bushes downhill from the road, where he had stumbled and fallen after nearly shooting Keely. Where had she come from? Why had she been there? If McCullough hadn't pushed her out of the way...
 

Damn McCullough
. She'd probably followed him there.

Lunn's breath came raggedly, like his lungs fought breathing. He tried to piece together the last few minutes, but they were blurred, impossibly intertwined, distorted. Had he pulled the trigger before Keely appeared, or had her appearance startled him into shooting? Could McCullough have been fast enough to beat a bullet? Gaffney would never forget the surprised look on Keely's face as McCullough lunged for her.

Lunn again tried to recall the sequence of events. He had aimed at McCullough. Keely had stepped into the road from nowhere. He had sat rooted in place for a minute, fearing the worst, watching McCullough sprawled over Keely. Then McCullough had pushed up on his arms over Keely, and Lunn could see her chest heaving. She was all right. In that instant he hated himself for what he'd almost done. But he hated McCullough more for his intimate posture over Keely.
 

Suddenly worried that Keely would see him, Lunn had run like a frightened deer down the hill. Miraculously, Waters had stepped from the bushes and taken the blame, letting Lunn escape undetected. What would Waters want from him now?

Waters' laugh floated down to him, carried on the wind. Moments later Waters crashed through the underbrush, calling for him.

"Here." Gaffney waved to him.

Waters spotted him and came to him, plunking down beside him. "They've gone. All of them, even Selter. No one knows you were with me."

Lunn nodded. Waters wanted something.

"Were you shooting at the scabs or McCullough?" Waters asked.

Waters was too clever. When Gaffney turned to face him, Waters was laughing and his eyes shone hot with excitement.

"I know how you feel. You hate him. But I want him alive. Did you see him step from the bushes to face those damned scabs?" Waters laughed again.
 

Lunn bristled at the admiration in Waters' voice.
 

"The man is fearless. We need
more
men like him. When he's cooled down, we'll let him into the inner circle. And you," Waters pointed at Lunn, "leave him alone."

Dietz found Keely in their room at the boardinghouse, sitting on the bed with her knees pressed to her chest, cheek pressed to knees. Tears salted her cheeks. Dietz's anger fell away. He wanted to comfort her, but wasn't sure she wouldn't turn him away. She didn't even look at him as he shut the door behind him.

"I hate Monihan," she said flatly.

Dietz cleared his throat, but couldn't speak.

"He was on duty the day Michael died. He wouldn't send for the doctor. He let Michael die."

"I know," Dietz said.

She gave him a one-eyed look. "I heard what you meant to do out there." She raised her head to look at him straight on. "I wish he would die, but I don't want you killing for me, McCullough."

Dietz almost believed he'd heard wrong. Keely thought this was about Michael and her? He realized then how far apart he and Keely really were. McCullough could love her and she could love him. But John Dietz worked for the other side. She could never love
him
.

He plunked down on the bed next to her and stared straight ahead at the wall, no longer angry, but still hurting. "You took Waters' side and walked away from me."

She reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. I did what I did because I can't afford to have Waters any angrier with us than he already is. He's dangerous, McCullough." She continued stroking. He sat, mesmerized by her touch. "And I meant what I said about not fighting each other. Divided, we'll never beat the owners."

His hurt ran so deep that he barely heard her words. "Keely, I don't easily forgive being abandoned. Ever since my mother—" He cut himself off, suddenly worried he had committed an unrecoverable slip. He'd forgotten and become Dietz again. Keely looked at him curiously. "I don't remember now. How much have I told you about my childhood?"

"Nothing," she said.

"I never told you."

"No."

"Did Michael tell you anything about it?"

She shook her head. Dietz sighed. Fortunately, Dietz remembered that McCullough's family had been similar to his—two brothers, two sisters. McCullough and one brother being the oldest, conveniently like Dietz and his. "My father died the year I turned five," he began slowly. "The influenza. I was the only one with him in the room when he passed on." He shivered. "No matter how much time passes, the image doesn't fade. To this day, I don't know where my mother was at the time." He took a breath. "Probably doesn't matter. He left behind five of us kids ranging in age from babyhood to seven. Me, I was second in line.

"Make a long story short—Mother thought she couldn't raise us all. The miners' union paid for a funeral, and took up a donation for us. They even offered to support Mother until she could marry again. There were enough men around wanting wives, even widows with children. And Mother was very beautiful." He paused, remembering a Texas cattle ranch on the plains, and his mother, all beauty and aloofness. He also remembered his grandfather, uncles, and neighboring cattlemen all offering to run the ranch for her so she could keep her children. He remembered equally well the day she turned her two oldest, ages seven and five, out.

"She wouldn't hear of it. She turned me and my brother out on our own."

Keely gasped.
 

Dietz still remembered the long walk down the wagon track drive, the complete feeling of loneliness, and uncertainty, of not belonging anywhere.

"What did you do? How did you survive?"
 

He didn't like remembering. "Slept in the streets. Lived with neighbors kind enough to take us in when it got cold. Got jobs in the mines." Slept in haylofts. Bounced between uncles and neighbors. Became cowboys.

Keely turned his face toward hers and kissed him gently on the mouth with lips as moist and soft as a baby's. "I love you, McCullough." She kissed him again, equally softly. "I'll never desert you, I promise."

She couldn't know what keeping her promise would cost her, but it didn't matter anyway, he wouldn't hold her to it. When she found out the truth—

He reached for her shirtwaist and pulled it loose from her skirt, snaking his hands beneath it, trying for a touch of bare skin.
 

Keely slid her hands down his chest, gently massaging the buttons out of their holes, stroking his chest. When his shirt hung open, she pulled away, stood and undressed.
 

He matched her pace, peeling his own clothes off in tempo to her striptease.
 

Let them look
, Michael had told her long ago, Dietz remembered her saying, and let him look she did. He could barely keep from gawking at her when she was fully dressed, but naked she was irresistible—pale, unblemished skin, soft curves, pert breasts, and a slender waist.

He pulled her into his embrace and pressed her against him.
 

She held tight, pulling him onto the bed. "Make love to me now, McCullough. Wild and hard so there's only us."

They bucked together on the bed while the backboard tapped an irreverent staccato against the wall and the world melted away. When it was over, they lay tangled in each other until he tried to pull away.
 

"Don't. Not yet." She traced the path of the trickle of sweat that dripped down his chest. "I like feeling the tingle of your sweat on my body. I feel like every pore, everything I own is open for you."

"I love you, Keely." He,
John Dietz
, loved her. But she'd never realize the difference. "You scared the shit out of me today, Keely. A second's difference in the timing—"

"I know. I'm sorry. Next time I'll listen to you. I
promise
." She traced his chest lightly with her fingers and sighed. "But, oh, McCullough, we're such a team. Together, we'll beat the mine owners. Then we'll settle down and raise us a family, children who will have both parents to love them."

Some team.
He
loved Keely Byrne, but
she
loved Ian McCullough.

Chapter 13

Dietz, fresh from Keely's bed, stepped out of the boardinghouse into the sunshine. Music tinkled on the breeze from every saloon from Dutch Henry's on down the street. Men whooped and hollered, staggered and strutted, drunk or on their way, from every gambling hall and drinking establishment in town. Damn, while he'd lingered in bed with Keely, listening to her explain about the McKennas, the union had flooded the Tiger and Poorman, and if Monihan hadn't been sufficiently prepared, the Gem Mine. Nothing else explained the euphoria. Gone were the tension and sense of purpose of the last several days. The men celebrated. For himself, Dietz felt relieved not to have had to partake of an action against his employers.

Dietz squinted into the sun. Time grew short, very short indeed. Soon, he would have to send Keely away to Spokane for protection. Once the men went to war, no one would be safe.
 

Originally, Dietz had meant for McCullough to stay after the violence and say a proper goodbye to Keely. But he now saw the danger and futility of that plan. He would send Keely away, and when she got back McCullough would be gone, ostensibly to avoid the authorities which would certainly swoop down on all the union leaders. Were they so cocksure as to think the government would let them get away? He laughed inwardly. Fools. The mine owners had money, power, prestige, and friends in high places. Not to mention that the United States government didn't take kindly to civil insurrection.

Yes, shortly after Keely returned to the Valley, he would send word and McCullough would be dead.
For good this time
. Dietz shuddered in the heat of the midday sun as he thought of hurting Keely, of her grieving and then marrying some else, of ceasing to love him.
 

He walked up the street and forced his way into Dutch's through the crowd tumbling into the street.

Inside, Dutch's was dark and hazy with smoke. Peters, a shift boss at the Gem when the union wasn't striking, whacked Dietz on the back. "Old boy, where were ya this morning? We missed ya at the doings." Peters slurred his words and his breath stank of whiskey.

"Out on a special mission. You flooded the Tiger and Poorman today. Anyone hurt?" Dietz asked without preamble.

Peters waved at him and shook his head. "Not a stinking man."

"Better luck next time." Dietz moved on, eavesdropping on the crowd as he went, picking up snippets. Something felt wrong. The men's happiness had a brittle edge and anger he hadn't expected. Phrases like "barbarian" and "spy in our midst" were repeated too often.

Dietz found Samuels and Big Frank at the bar bent over a newspaper, cursing. Dietz ordered a shot of rum before addressing them. "Looks like mighty entertaining reading, lads."

Samuels shot him a look. "This came in the mail today." He spun the newspaper around for Dietz to see and tapped his finger on an article.

The Coeur d'Alene Barbarian
. The mine owners' rag? Dietz masked his expression as he read Patterson's latest report printed in full detail. Damn. "Looks like we got a spy among us. But we've suspected that before."

"Yeah." Samuels tapped the paper again for emphasis. "But everything in this article points to the traitor being in the Gem Union." Samuels shook his head disgustedly. "One of our own."

"Looks like it," Dietz said noncommittally, but his thoughts rested on Keely and Patterson. He would have to send her away sooner than he thought. As for Patterson, sooner or later suspicion would fall on him. Dietz would need to be there to cover his backside.

Keely hummed as she cooked dinner for the men. They'd be needing food in their stomachs to help sober them up, though like as not, all they would be wanting was coffee. Something had happened. Whatever the men had been planning had been accomplished. The miners sounded like raucous crows as they partied in the streets. With hope, the action would be enough to induce the mine owners to settle this business. The Fourth of July was just days away. Maybe there would be another reason to celebrate this year. She would pack a picnic. She began chopping an onion.

Her thoughts passed lightly over the current business. She had her own reasons for wanting the strike settled. She put the knife down and felt her stomach. No babe grew there yet. But, oh, she hoped there would be soon—when this business was finished. Then she and McCullough would have children of their own and love them and care for them like neither of them had been. McCullough had surprised her with his vulnerability. She would never have guessed about his past. It explained so much—his reluctance to talk about it, his independence.