Crimson Palace

CRIMSON PALACE Maralee Lowder Rocket ISBN 1-58608-047-4 © copyright March 1998 Maralee Wofford Cover art by Eliza Black New Concepts Publishing 4729 Humphreys Road Lake Park, GA 31636 http://www.newconceptspublishing.com

Prologue

Laura turned in her chair at the sound of the opening door. A dark haired, younger man entered the room. Glancing first at the senior attorney, his eyes shifted immediately to Laura. The instant flash of approval in his eyes indicated he couldn’t be more pleased with what he saw. Laura Bradley, at twenty-eight, with her masses of wavy black hair and startlingly blue, thickly lashed eyes, was a remarkably beautiful woman. He responded immediately to her poised, confident air. Striding across the room, he reached out for her extended hand as Allen Silverwood introduced them. For the briefest of moments the older attorney was completely forgotten as a slight tingling sensation radiated from Mark’s hand to Laura’s. Her lips parted slightly, as if to speak. Then, realizing there were no words appropriate for what she was feeling, she closed them. A quizzical smile touched Mark’s lips as he allowed his grasp to ease, releasing her fingers reluctantly. For just an instant Laura was sure he would ask if they hadn’t met before, but instead he said, "I’m very pleased that we shall be working together, Miss Bradley. I hope you will feel free to call me at any time." His voice wrapped around Laura, encasing her in a strange intimacy. "I’ve already explained to Laura the conditions of her father’s will, Mark. As you know, she must read her grandmother’s journals before she takes possession of the Crimson Palace. Although there’s quite a stack of them, I expect she will finish before Gladys and I return from our vacation. Therefore, I’m leaving the keys with you so when Laura is ready, the two of you can inspect the property together." "I look forward to you’re call, Miss Bradley. Please don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions." Mark’s smoky gray eyes rested lightly on her lips.

"May I help you to your car? You have quite a load there." Laura gratefully relinquished the journals. Walking side-by-side, their shoulders nearly touching, they left the building together. Was this all a dream? It was all too fantastic! First she had inherited the Crimson Palace, her grandmother’s famous gambling casino and the fortune needed to run it, with the only stipulation being that she read her grandmother’s journals before taking possession. And now, walking next to her was undoubtedly the most intriguing man she had ever met. She had never before experienced such a powerfully magnetic attraction to a man. There was the feeling that she had known him all her life. And how could she explain the sense that some unfathomable current flowed between them? Was her imagination working overtime, or did he feel it too? "Thanks for the help," she said breathlessly as he heaped the last of the journals onto the front seat of her car. "I’ll give you a call as soon as I finish going through these. You can’t imagine how anxious I am to see the inside of the Crimson Palace. That old building has been a major part of my fantasies all my life." "Easy to see why. It’s quite a place." His voice was soft yet exciting, with a slight raspiness to it. "You don’t have to wait to give me a call. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what the reason." She thought about his parting words as she drove home. She may have been putting her own meaning into his words, but she had the distinct impression that his intent went beyond the realm of attorney/client business. The Crimson Palace faded from her thoughts as she recalled each word Mark had spoken, the tone of his voice, the penetrating gaze of his hooded, gray eyes. She smiled as she recalled that when he smiled one corner of his mouth rose slightly higher than the other. Well, time enough to ponder the wonders of Mark Kilmar, she thought as she stacked the journals on her coffee table, carefully arranging them in chronological order. She could see she had her work cut out for her as she eyed the formidable collection of her grandmother’s diaries. After eating a light supper, Laura brewed a fresh pot of coffee, found a comfortable spot on her sofa, and opened the earliest dated journal.

Shinonn

1850

Chapter 1

Shinonn Flannery’s tattered straw hat shaded her eyes from the shimmery rays of the relentless sun. She

leaned languidly against the corral fence, feeling as if the relentless heat had dried up her very last ounce of energy. Blazes, it was hot! Why, Hades itself would be cool by comparison. Local residents were already saying that 1850 would go down in the history books as a real record breaker. She peered down the road of the small Indiana farm town, longing for a break in the crushing monotony. The panorama before her could hardly be expected to lift a young girl’s spirits. The town was pitiably small and totally lacking in character. Less than two dozen buildings straddled a dusty, straight-as-an-arrow road, which came from nothing and led to less. Most of the buildings were made of either rough hewn boards or plain old sod. Only a few of the villager’s had bothered to plant flowers or trees. Simply surviving took about all the energy most people had to spare. The tableau before her might have been a painting, it was so still. Although it was just past midday, in this heat no one, human nor animal, appeared to be capable of stirring. Now and then Shinonn could hear the voices of men in the saloon down the way, otherwise, only the buzzing of insects broke the unremitting silence. This stinking town’s got to be the most boring place on earth, she thought in disgust. Gazing off into the distance, down the endless track which led from the village, she thought for a moment that she saw a rider coming toward town. Don’t be a dummy, she chided herself. Who in his right mind would come to this godforsaken place? Must be the heat making sun ghosts. But as she squinted down, straining her eyes against the harsh rays of the sun, she was sure she could see someone riding toward town. Balancing her elbow on the top rail, she rested her chin on the heel of her hand and watched the rider approach. "Who in their right mind would to come to this miserable excuse for a town in a middle of a heat wave?" she asked herself aloud. Talking to herself had become somewhat of a habit lately, one she allowed she could be forgiven, considering the fact that she spent most of her time in her own company. But today the sound of a human voice, even her own, sounded out of place in the deadly stillness. Glancing once more over the town that spread before her, Shinonn could see nothing that could possibly interest a newcomer. Yes sir, if she was that man, she would just keep right on riding - right through this miserable place and on down the road ‘till she came to something worth seeing. But the rider did not pass through. She watched with fascination as his large horse drew nearer and nearer. Finally, pulling the animal to a halt just outside the corral, the man climbed down from the saddle and took his time stretching his lanky frame. Then, removing his hat, he methodically slapped at himself with it in a futile effort to shake off the trail dust that covered him from head to toe. Satisfied that he’d done all he could to freshen his appearance, he peered around the corral, then turned his attention to Shinonn. "Think you can scare up someone to take care of my horse, little miss? He’s had a long, hot day and needs a good feed and brushing." "I’ll take care of him for you, mister." "A little mite of a girl like you tending horses? There ain’t no boys around this town?"

"It’s supposed to be my brother Patrick’s job, but he’s never around when there’s work to be done. Don’t worry, mister, I’ll do a better job than he would anyway." "My old buddy here could sure use a new set of shoes." The man affectionately patted the horses sweaty rump. "You got a smithy in this town?" "Yes, sir, we do. My Da’s the town smithy. You can find him over at the saloon." The stranger tied the reins to the corral fence. At the same moment that he glanced up at the girl a gust of wind lifted the brim of her battered hat, allowing him a full view of her face. "Well, if you ain’t a pretty little thing," he said. His voice, strangely soft, had just a hint of a grating quality to it. "Won’t be long before young bucks from miles around start coming to town, pestering you to favor them with one of your sweet little smiles. Tell me, pretty girl, what’ll you do then?" He gave her a teasing smile. "I guess I’ll just have to start carrying me a big stick to chase ‘em all away with," she answered with a mischievous grin. The hat brim fell back in place and once again her lovely face was partially hidden from his view. But he would not soon forget the vision of her innocent, unspoiled beauty. It was a face in the stage of transition from childhood to young womanhood. A light dusting of freckles splashed across a finely chiseled nose and feathered out toward already quite prominent cheekbones. Her lips were full, still colored with the healthy glow of youth. Her slightly arched, finely etched brows were as black as her hair, which had been plaited into long, thick braids. But it was the memory of her eyes that would come to haunt his dreams. A deep, sapphire blue, they were thickly edged with a double row of dark, straight lashes. She was young, so very young, but the expression he saw in those eyes spoke of a maturity beyond her years. There was innocence there, but suffering too. Too much suffering he suspected. "You think I’m just joshing about those young fellers, but you mark my words, before you know it, they’ll be coming for miles around just to get a glimpse of you. I just might have to come back this way in a few years myself!" A sudden flush colored Shinonn’s cheeks as she took the rains of the stranger’s horse and lead him into the corral. She couldn’t remember ever having received so much attention from a man, let alone such a handsome one! He watched her walk away before turning his attention to the saloon. With any luck he’d be in a poker game before the night was out. He flexed his fingers with anticipation. Experience had taught him that dead-beat towns like this usually sported several men who were only too eager to give their money to a professional gambler such as himself. All he had to do was to look for the loudest braggart and he’d have spotted his mark. *** Her strong hands went about the task of currying the stranger’s horse automatically as Shinonn let her mind drift back to the man. She allowed herself a secret grin as she remembered his words of praise. She wondered if he really saw those things in her face or if he had just been teasing. How many girls had he said those same words to, she wondered?

She scoffed at her own gullibility. How could she even imagine he had meant what he said? She’d looked in the mirror enough to know what she looked like, just a scrawny, dumb looking kid! But no amount of arguing with herself chased away the secret hope that he had meant every word. Especially when he’d said he might come back again! She decided that what she liked best about he was his voice. Just thinking about it gave her goose pimples. When he spoke, his tone was deep and slightly gravely, the words seductively soft. They made her feel as if they were reaching out and touching her in ways she had never been touched before. And she had to admit, she found the sensation very pleasant. Oh, yes, very pleasant indeed! "Shinonn", she scolded herself. "What are you thinking of, mooning over a stranger like some love struck female!" She brushed the horse with firm, hard strokes as she tried to forget what a fool she must have seemed to him. "Well, he won’t stay long in this godforsaken town anyway", she reminded herself, "so I won’t have to worry about embarrassing myself again. There’s nothing here to keep him, so it’s not likely I’ll be seeing a lot of him, no matter what he thinks of me." She concentrated on working with the horse, trying to push thoughts of the stranger from her mind. *** Finished at last with her chores at the stable, Shinonn entered her house through the back door, being careful to wash off the day’s accumulation of dirt before she came into the kitchen. "Seems to me you’re a mite late, daughter," she heard her mother complain from the next room. "Da stayed down at the saloon all day, so I had to finish up by myself. I guess he gets extra thirsty on days like this." "I wouldn’t be criticizing your father, if I was you, young lady. He’s a good man, he is. Just likes a bit of a drink now and again." "There’s no denying that", Shinonn grumbled to herself as she began the preparations for the evening meal. Her father, a big hearty Irishman had caused the family more than a little trouble over the years with his "bit of a drink". Unfortunately, Sean Flannery wasn’t what one would call a reliable man. Oh, he could be charming when he had a mind to be and he was skillful at his trade. Folks were always drawn to the big, laughing man. It was this charming Irishman her mother, Rose, had fallen in love with. But his drinking and gambling had stolen his charm from his daughter’s eyes years ago. Her mother had been in poor health for years and had long ago turned all of her household responsibilities over to her daughter. Her delicate emotional state made it impossible for Rose Flannery to concern herself with the family’s precarious financial status. Unfortunately, Patrick Flannery, Shinonn’s brother, was turning out to be a chip from the father’s log, showing no more promise of shouldering his load than was Sean. Shinonn had given up looking to her brother for help long ago. On this particular day, instead of working at the stable, Patrick was off hiding from the law. A week or more ago he had picked a fight with the mercantile owner and beat the poor man senseless. There was

still some doubt as to whether the man would ever fully recover from the beating. As she went about her work, Shinonn once again savored the stranger’s compliments. Did he really think she was pretty? What if he really did come back after she had finished growing up? The thought of standing before those smoldering gray eyes again, fully grown and ready for love, caused a shiver of excitement to run up her spine. Stoking the fire to bring the kettle of water to boil, she peeled onions and potatoes. Each day she rose at dawn, worked with the horses, cooked the meals, cleaned up after them and then fell into bed exhausted, only to rise again at dawn the next morning to begin the cycle again. She could barely remember any life but this. When she saw other girls her age, dressed in pretty frocks, giggling lightheartedly with each other, she couldn’t help but feel a bitter anger at her own lot in life. She had yearned to go to school with the other children when she was younger. But there had never been time for such foolishness for Shinonn Flannery. Though it didn’t seem to bother her brother that they were both illiterate, she was mortified that she could neither read nor write. At least in her case it wasn’t a case of being slow whitted. She had learned ciphering completely on her own. It was she who kept track of her father’s business, not that there was ever much money to keep tabs on. How she yearned to learn to read and write! Facing reality though, she had long since given up hope of going to school. Surprisingly, Sean came home earlier than usual that night. The dinner Shinonn had prepared still bubbled on the back of the stove. He sat at the table while she ladled up a bowl of stew for him. "And how are you tonight, Da? Any business come in after I left?" "Not much, girl. Just a set of shoes for that stranger’s horse. You know the one, you met him when he left the animal at the corral. Said his name is Lincoln something or other. Didn’t get his last name. "The man fancies himself a gambler. We’ll be seein’ about that tomorrow. I intend to teach him a bit about the game of poker, I do. And I’ll be takin’ his money for the lesson." His laughter filled the room. If possible, Shinonn’s heart sank even lower. All they needed now was for Da to be playing cards with one of those traveling card sharks. She had heard enough stories about that sort to know that a smart man steered clear of them. *** The next day was Saturday, Shinonn’s busiest day of the week. The local farmers came to town on Saturdays to sell their produce and to buy the supplies they would need for the coming week. The extra business in town often overflowed to the corral. She was pumping water into the long watering trough when she looked up to see her father striding purposefully toward the saloon without so much as a by-your-leave for his daughter. If it would have done any good, she would have stamped her foot in exasperation. "It’ll be a dark day for the Flannery clan, I’m thinkin’," she mumbled under her breath, lapsing for a moment into the accent of her parents. As the hours wore on, she couldn’t keep the image of her father gambling away the family’s money out of her mind. Her imagination vividly pictured Sean losing hand after hand. Panic filled her when she

thought how likely it was that at this very moment her father could be losing everything they owned. "I’ve got to stop him before it’s too late", she resolved at last. Putting down the shovel she had been using to muck out the stalls, she strode resolutely toward the saloon. She couldn’t stand by and let that foolish man ruin them. As a young child she and her brother had curiously peeked under a saloon’s swinging doors. She had thought saloons to be wicked, sinful places and for that very reason they held a certain fascination. But it had been many years since that fascination had been replaced with a deep resentment for all the misery they brought to those she loved. Pushing aside the double swinging doors, she stepped into the room. Cigar smoke hung heavy in the air, mixed with the aroma of stale beer and whiskey. The stench nearly made her gag. A sea of men gaped at her as she stood silhouetted at the door. She ignored the row of men sitting on stools at the bar. Searching the dimly lit room, her eyes rested for a moment on the stranger, Lincoln. He sat at one of the round tables, cards fanned out in his hand and a cheroot clenched firmly between his teeth. His eyes squinted as he peered through the smoke at the player who faced him. That player, his back to Shinonn, was Sean Flannery. "Well, look who we have here," Lincoln said in his oddly gentle voice, shifting his gaze from Sean to the girl who stood in the doorway. "Looks like you have a visitor, Sean." Sean turned toward her, a scowl on his face. "Shinonn! What the hell do you think you’re doing here, girl?" "I need to talk to you, Da." "If it’s talkin’ you want, we’ll be doin’ it at home. Now go on with ya, girl." "No, Da. I need to talk to you right now, outside please." She firmly stood her ground, although she was beginning to fear the wisdom of her decision. It was clear Sean Flannery was in no mood to have his daughter tell him what to do. "I told you to go home, lass. This is no place for a wee girl like you. Now, do as I say, before I lose my temper. We’ll talk tomorrow. Now, be on home with you." Shinonn noted that the whiskey glass in his hand was nearly empty and the bottle beside it less than half full. The flush on her father’s face told her she was too late. Muscles along her jaw twitched in anger as she realized the futility of her mission. Turning away, she failed to see the compassion etched on Lincoln’s usually closed face. This night’s game was not to his liking. The town was poor by any standard and the men who gambled with him could ill afford to lose. Although he was a seasoned gambler, Lincoln Bradley had never found pleasure in taking money from people such as these. There was no sport to it. No, he would much rather travel to a city where he could play with a more sophisticated class of men. But for tonight the game would continue. What else was a gambler to do on a Saturday night?

Chapter 2

She spent the rest of the afternoon working at a frenzied pace. Forced by nervous energy, she pushed herself even harder than usual, ignoring the scorching heat. As evening settled in with still no sign that her father would leave the saloon, she reluctantly left the corral and trudged wearily homeward. Though it would have been a blessing to be able to come to her mother with her worries, to be comforted by wise and soothing words, Shinonn kept her concerns to herself. Rose, so fragile in both body and spirit, had never been one to deal with any sort of unpleasantry. When she and her mother finished their supper, Shinonn, following a much repeated ritual, prepared a plate of food for her father and placed it on the back of the stove. Then, after cleaning up the dishes, she went to her tiny room and prepared for bed. Though it was well past ten, the air was still oppressively hot. Stripping off her dress and underlinens, she stood naked in the darkened room, allowing herself to enjoy a few delightfully sinful moments of nakedness. Free of her muslin skirts and petticoats, her body felt deliciously light, almost cool. But propriety quickly returned. With a sigh, she reached for her long cotton nightdress and pulled it over her head. She pulled back the pieced quilt and lay down upon the patched, scratchy muslin sheet. Although bone weary, she could not sleep. Laying with her arms folded behind her head, she stared at the darkened ceiling, ears straining to hear the sounds of her father’s return. She finally drifted into a fitful slumber. In her dream she was being chased by an angry crowd. She tried to get away, but no matter where she ran, there was always someone waiting for her, screaming words that made no sense. She was suddenly awakened by the sound of gun shots. Her first thought was that the noise was part of her dream, but as she came fully awake she realized that the shouting she heard was only too real. Jumping out of bed, she ran to the window, her heart pounding so hard her chest ached. Although it was a dark night, she could see people milling about the street in front of the saloon. Two figures dashed through its doors, running toward the far end of town. Not thinking of how she was dressed, Shinonn tore through the house and out the door. She let the front door bang shut behind her as she ran barefoot down the dirt road. Da! She knew something had happened to her da. As she neared the saloon, the small group of spectators parted, allowing her to pass. She was only dimly aware of their whispers as she passed them and entered the saloon. The table where earlier Lincoln and Sean had been sitting now lay on its side. Money, cards, poker chips and chairs lay strewn across the floor. Beside the table, lying in a strangely awkward heap, was her father. The doctor was bent over the big man, straining to hear the beat of his heart. As Shinonn stood in mute disbelief the doctor, looking at no one in particular, shook his head sadly. "There’s nothing I can do for the man," he said as he slowly stood. "Has anyone gone for the sheriff?" "Wilbur and Pete Johanson went for him, but it warn’t nothing but self defense. We all saw what happened. That gambler feller there only did what any of the other of us would have done."

Still frozen in shocked silence, Shinonn’s eyes traveled about the room in search of the man who had killed her father. Finally she found the itinerant gambler, sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His knees were drawn up and he rested his head on his folded arms. Still in his hand was the pistol which had fired the deadly shot. "Shinonn! You shouldn’t be here," the doctor said when he saw her standing at the door. "Come along with me, child. "Much as I hate to do it, I’ve got to go break the news to your mother. I dread waking her in the middle of the night like this, but she’d never forgive me if I waited ‘till morning." "But my da. I can’t leave him here like this." "The sheriff will take care of everything, honey. Now let me take you home. There’s nothing you or I can do for your pa now. Your ma will be needing you at home." She turned to leave, but stopped, suddenly finding her gaze locked with Lincoln’s. He said nothing, but his eyes spoke of sorrow and remorse, conveying his deep feelings far more eloquently than any words he might have spoken. Their wordless communication lasted but a moment, yet it was something she would never forget. "How did it happen, Doc?" she asked as they walked down the now deserted street. "I don’t rightly know, Shinonn. I wasn’t there ‘till after the shooting. All I know is everyone swore that the gambling fella shot in self defense. I know it’s hard to believe," he continued as Shinonn turned to him with a look of utter disbelief. "I’ve never known your father to call a man out, but apparently he did tonight. I promise to get the whole story for you tomorrow." "That’s all right, Doc. You don’t have to. I’ll see Sheriff Higgins in the morning. He’ll know if that stranger murdered my father or not. For all we know, the man may be behind bars by then." She wanted to hate the man who had killed her father. She couldn’t believe her da would have threatened anyone. He may have been a sorry drunkard, but Sean Flannery had never called a man out, no matter how drunk he got. No, Lincoln Bradley must have shot him down in cold blood, she decided. She wanted desperately to believe her father to be an innocent victim, yet her practical mind would not allow her the delusion. The man who killed Sean was a stranger in town. Surely, if her father had been murdered, his friends would never have stood up for the gambler against one of their own. The very men who witnessed the shooting were her father’s closest friends, men who drank with him and did business with him. No, if those men were to give false witness, it would have been for their friend’s good, not some stranger’s. And then she recalled the look she had seen in Lincoln’s eyes. They had been the eyes of a man in torment, not the eyes of a cold blooded killer. After returning to the house, Shinonn went to wake her mother while the doctor waited in the parlor. "Mum, wake up. Doc Miller’s here to see you. He needs to talk to you, Mum. Do you hear me? Doc Miller’s here, Mum."

"What! Is that you, child? What’s wrong?" "Here, put on your wrapper and come out to the parlor. Doc Miller and I need to talk to you." "It’s Patrick, isn’t it? Something’s wrong with Patrick! I don’t want to hear it! I won’t go in there and listen to anything bad about my son!" "No, Mum. Nothing’s happened to Pat. Please, Mum, let’s not keep the doctor waiting." She put her mother’s arms through the sleeves of the robe and tied the belt at the waist as though she were dressing a child. "Good evening, Rose. I’m truly sorry to have to wake you in the middle of the night like this, but I’m afraid I have news that won’t wait for morning." He cleared his throat, stalling for time as he tried to find the right words. "Rose, there’s no good way for me to tell you this. Sean’s been shot. By the time I got to him he was already gone." "Sean’s dead? But there must be some mistake. He’s fine. Just fine, I tell you." "No, Mum, Doc Miller’s right. I saw him myself." "But how? How could this have happened? I want to know how it happened!" "I don’t know all the details just yet, ma’am. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Just now I want you to take a bit of this laudanum," he said as he measured out some of the liquid. "Now, I insist, Rose," he said as she started to turn her head away from the medicine. "The best thing for you to do right now is to sleep." "She’s in shock, Shinonn," the doctor explained. "And you’ve been through a terrible shock yourself. I’m going to give you some of this too. You both need to get a good night’s rest." "Thanks, Doc, but I’ll be needing my wits about me in the morning. And then there’s Mum. She may be needing me in the night." "But you should get some sleep." "I need to be thinking more than sleeping tonight," she answered him grimly. "Well, I’ll be on my way then. If you need me for anything, anything at all, come and get me. Anytime, do you hear?" "Yes, sir, I will," she replied as he walked down the steps and into the night. Shinonn went to the kitchen, stoked the fire and set the kettle on to boil. Making a pot of good, strong tea for herself, she sat at the table through the night, listening for sounds from her mother’s room, drinking cup after cup of the brew. And she thought. At about eight the next morning she saw the sheriff enter his office. Checking to make sure her mother

was still sleeping, she headed down the street to his office. Sheriff Higgins was uncomfortable under the steady gaze of Sean Flannery’s daughter. He realized full well that, although she was still a young girl, Shinonn was level headed and deserved a true accounting of the previous night’s tragedy. "Tell me the truth, Sheriff Higgins. Was my father murdered in cold blood or not? Did that gambler shoot him down?" "The truth isn’t quite as simple as all that, Shinonn. Yes, Lincoln Bradley did kill your father, but there were more than a dozen witnesses, all friends of your father’s, I might add, who swear that he shot in self-defense." "But I never once saw my father draw a gun on anyone, not in my whole life." "Ah, Shinonn, it wasn’t the Sean you loved who pulled that gun. It was the whiskey that did it. I’m not one to put a man down for his habits, but last night your father got himself into a mean drunk." He hesitated for a moment, hating to force the girl to see the ugly side of her father. "Sheriff Higgins, I’m not blind to my da’s drinking ways like my mum is. I know my father drank more than he should. I’ve seen it more times than I’d like to remember. Now go on and tell me what happened." "Lincoln Bradley, Sean and a few other men had been playing poker most of the night. Apparently your dad was doing fairly well, and had built quite a stack of chips. Then Sean got cocky and started raising the pots higher and higher. It wasn’t long before his pile of chips started disappearing. Instead of pulling back and playing it close to the vest, he just kept making wilder and wilder bets. "When that Bradley fellow tried to call it a night, Sean started hollering that they were all going to stay there until he’d won his money back. There didn’t seem like much anybody could do about it without making Sean even angrier, so the game went on. "After awhile it was down to just the two of them, Sean and Lincoln Bradley. Sean had lost just about all his money but he insisted on playing one more hand. Mr. Bradley dealt the cards for five card stud. Your dad drew two queens, then a third one. I guess he figured he had a winning hand, even though the gambler had the makings of a Royal Flush showing. Sean was so sure, in fact, that he wanted to put his blacksmith shop and the stable up as collateral for his raise. "To his credit, Mr. Bradley refused, said he wouldn’t take a family’s source of income, not for any bet. Well, Sean just went into a rage. He stood up, throwing the table at Lincoln. Then he grabbed a chair and tried to crash it down on the man’s head. Still Lincoln refused to fight. All he’d do was fend off your father’s blows. "Then Sean grabbed the pistol that George Hobbs keeps on the bar to quiet things down when they get too wild. Sean was so drunk he was stumbling around, waving the gun all over the room. "He got off two rounds. Both missed Mr. Bradley, but one of them almost hit George behind the bar. Right about then the gambler grabbed Pete Morrow’s pistol right out of his holster and aimed it at your father. He says he aimed low, figuring if he shot Sean in the leg that would stop him. But just as he fired, your dad stumbled. Instead of taking the bullet in the leg, he got it square in the heart. He died almost

instantly." Trudging home from the sheriff’s office, her heart felt as heavy as her da’s anvil. As hard as her life had been, Shinonn had never faced a more difficult task than the one ahead of her. All her life she had done everything she could to shield her delicate mother from life’s pain. Even as a small child she had understood that Rose’s constitution was as fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Dang! She’d do just about anything to keep from having to tell her mother the details of Sean’s death. Squaring her shoulders, Shinonn entered her mother’s bedroom. "It’s to work with your father already, is it? I wish I’d been awake to bid him good-bye." Shinonn’s heart sank. Could her mother have actually forgotten Doc Miller’s visit last night? "Da’s not at work, Mum. Don’t you remember what the doctor told you when he came here last night?" "Don’t be foolish, girl. Doc Miller most certainly was not here last night. You must have been dreaming. Why in the world would he have come to our house?" "Mum, Da died last night. I’ve just come from the sheriff and he told me how it happened." Rose’s hand shot out, striking Shinonn a sharp blow. "I won’t be hearing such talk! You may be angry with your da for his drinkin’, but you won’t be bringing any bad luck to him with your sharp tongue. Don’t you ever speak such evil about him again, do you hear?" Shinonn stood before her mother, eyes swimming with unshed tears. Rose had never so much as lifted a hand against her daughter before. As the girl stood rooted in shock, her mother spun around and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The slammed door snapped Shinonn out of her state of shock. Instinctively she understood that Rose could never face life without the Sean she had fallen in love with so many years before. Just as she had never allowed herself to see the dark side of her husband, she simply refused to accept his loss. If she denied his death strongly enough, then she would never have to face the truth. *** In typical Patrick Flannery fashion, Shinonn’s brother came stomping into the house just as she was ladling up the evening’s stew. She was only mildly surprised to see him, knowing that one of his cronies would have relayed the news of their father’s death to him, and that her brother liked nothing more than to get smack dab in the middle of a good fight. "Stop foolin’ with that food, girl, and tell me if what they said about Da is true," he demanded hotly. "Quiet, Patty! Mum will hear you. She’s more upset about Da than you can even imagine. She won’t hear a word about it without flying into a rage." "Well, tell me what happened," he continued in a somewhat subdued voice. "They say he was shot by some tin-horn gambler. I’d like to get my hands on the bastard who murdered him.

"Da wasn’t murdered, Pat. The man shot him in self defense. Everyone in the bar said so." "They’re all a bunch of damned liars! Da never even carried a gun. They aren’t foolin’ me with their lies! They was all paid to say that, more than likely." "That’s not true! They were Da’s friends. No, it was just that he’d had way too much to drink and he got crazy mad when the gambler wouldn’t take the stable and blacksmith shop as collateral on a bet. Da would have lost the bet, Pat. We would have lost everything!" "That’s a load of crap, and you know it!" "It was an accident, Patrick, nothing more. You’ve just got to let it go at that." "Maybe you’re fool enough to believe that bunch of slop, but I’m not. Our father was murdered in cold blood and if that poor excuse of a sheriff won’t do nothing about it, I will!" "Patrick, use your head! Just what do you intend to do, go out and shoot down an innocent man? You’ll end up at the end of a rope yourself and a fat lot of good that’ll do either Mum or me. We need you here. "I can’t take care of everything by myself! Please, Patrick, just forget the gambler and stay here and help me!" "You’re crazier than Mum if you think I won’t avenge my father’s murder!" he shouted as he slammed out of the house. "You’re nothing but a lazy, good-for-nothing fool, Patrick Flannery!" she yelled angrily at his departing back. But her anger changed nothing. Pat was a hot-headed child in a grown man’s body. Good sense would never sway him when his mind was set. Shinonn finally came to the realization that if Rose and she were to survive, it would be only by her own hard work and perseverance. *** Sean Flannery was buried early the next morning in the sun-baked cemetery a mile outside of town. Sheriff Higgins was kind enough to help Shinonn with the arrangements and had suggested the early hour because of the persistent heat. She was surprised at how many of the townspeople came out to the cemetery that morning to pay their last respects to the blacksmith. But in all fairness, she had to admit that her father, though not a good breadwinner or reliable parent, had been well liked. Of course, his old drinking buddies could be relied upon to say a final farewell. Conspicuously missing from the mourners, though, were the wife and son of the deceased. Shinonn was conscious of the whispers behind her back as they all gathered around the plain wooden coffin. How could she explain that her mother was not at her husband’s funeral because she refused to believe he was dead? Surely everyone in the village would think Rose had taken complete leave of her senses! The reason behind Patrick’s absence, on the other hand, was no secret. He had made quite a display the previous day of his intent to avenge his father’s "murder". Despite Sheriff Higgins’ advice to stay home and tend to the family’s needs, he had made a big show of heading west to track down his father’s killer. He had vowed he would follow the gambler all the way to California’s gold camps if that’s what it took

to get his revenge. His young friends thought Patrick’s actions heroic; he was doing just what they would if it had been their own father who had been killed. But Shinonn saw through her brother’s bravado. He had always looked only for adventure, searching for a good fight. She knew this was only an excuse for him to do what he liked best, to jump right in the middle of a brawl. She had seen the light in his eyes when he’d heard that Lincoln Bradley was on his way to California’s gold country. Well, let him go. He would have been nothing but a millstone around her neck anyway. As far as she was concerned, she had had enough of trying to rely on men. From here on out she would depend on no one but herself. After the brief graveside service, Shinonn returned to the house to change from her Sunday dress. "Child, what in the world are you all dressed up for?" her mother asked as Shinonn came up the steps. Rose sat on the creaky old rocker in the shade of the porch. "There was a special morning worship service, Mum. I didn’t wake you because it was held so early. I thought you needed your sleep more." It was a small lie, but Shinonn was not comfortable with it. As the years passed, however, she would learn to tell such lies with ease. As one week followed another, with Rose continuing to live with her delusions, Shinonn found the lies easier and easier. Not only did Rose refuse to believe her husband had died, she also deluded herself into believing that Patrick had not run off like the irresponsible son that he was. Each day she spent hours sitting on the porch, waiting for her son and her husband to return. As the years passed Rose gradually sank deeper and deeper into her own imagined world. Unable to share her mother’s world, Shinonn tended to Rose’s needs - fed her, washed her, led her out to the porch rocker each morning - all the while chatting away as if all was well. But she knew in her heart that her mother would never return to her. Most of the time Rose appeared totally unaware of her daughter’s presence. *** The one bright spot in this otherwise bleak period of Shinonn’s life occurred in the week following Sean Flannery’s funeral. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening and once again she was late fixing dinner for her mother. Rose, complaining of a headache due to the late meal, had retired to her bed while Shinonn did best to put together something for their supper. She was definitely out of sorts. She had been spending even more time than usual at the stable, trying to keep the business going. Her mother, instead of being understanding, found even more reasons for her countless complaints. As Shinonn was going through the cupboards, hauling out flour, beans, and bacon, she heard a knock at the front door. "Just what I need", she thought, "visitors. They couldn’t be bothered with us before, now all of a sudden they want to see how the "poor pitiful orphan and widow" are getting along. Well, I’ve no time for them now or ever", she thought crossly as she wiped her hands on her apron and went to unlatch the door. Standing on the porch, hat in hand, was Grady Hobbs, the saloon keeper’s son. Grady, at eighteen, was

already larger than most men. Well over six feet and burly as an ox, he always seemed embarrassed by his size. Shinonn knew him to be a kind person, but a bit on the shy side. "Grady, I thought you were one of the old biddies come to snoop. Come on in and set while I fix up something to eat. Have you had your supper yet?" "Yep, a couple hours ago. It wasn’t for anything like that that I come over, Shinonn. I come to speak to Rose about your dad’s blacksmith shop. I was wondering if she had anyone in mind to work it. Do you think she might let me try?" "I didn’t know you was a blacksmith, Grady. I always figured you for working in the saloon with your pa." "I hate the saloon - always have. There’s nothing more disgusting than a bunch of lazy good-for-nothings with nothing better to do than to sit around a bar and drink all day. Oh, I’m sorry, Shinonn. I don’t know what I was thinkin’ of, talking’ like that. I mean with your father being killed there and all." Shinonn watched in fascination as a crimson glow swiftly spread from Grady’s neck to his face, finally settling brightly on his ears. "Don’t worry about it, Grady. I know what my father was. I loved him with all my heart, but my da was a weak man when it came to drinking and cards. It don’t have nothing to do with you or your daddy." "Well, I don’t want to make things worse for you. I was just thinking that if you don’t have anyone who can buy Sean’s tools, maybe I could work in his shop. You know, sort of work for you and your ma. "I’ll be straight with you. I’m not near as good a smithy as your dad was, but I’ve picked up a bit here and there. I sure would like the chance to try it. Do you think your ma would let me?" "I don’t think we should bother Mum about it just now, Grady. Why don’t you come by the stable tomorrow and we’ll see what we can work out." "Thanks, Shinonn, thanks a lot. You sure your ma won’t mind?" "She won’t mind a bit," she answered grimly. Grady looked at Shinonn strangely for a moment. Years later, when telling the tale of his partnership with Shinonn Flannery, he related that when she said those words he saw something in her eyes that gave him a cold chill. Although she was years younger than himself, just barely past twelve, at that moment he had felt as if he was looking into the eyes of a grown woman, a woman filled with a determination he couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Chapter 3

Shinonn stood just outside the door of the blacksmith shop, watching Grady pumping the big billows. "You know, Grady, I don’t know how I would have gotten along without you all these years. I’m sure Mum and I would have starved to death long ago."

"Not you, Shinonn. I’m glad I was here to help, but you would have made out somehow. You’ve got more grit than any other girl I’ve ever known." It was no secret to everyone in town that the big man idolized the girl. It seemed the only person unaware of his feelings was Shinonn herself. "Just the same, I’m grateful for all you’ve done." "And how’s Rose doing these days? It’s been awhile since I saw her sitting out on your front porch." "She’s not doing too good, Grady. Living with her since Da died, well, it’s like watching someone just sort of fade away. Some days I don’t think she even knows who I am. "She hardly says a word to me anymore. When she does she talks like she thinks I’m Da or Patrick. And she’s gotten so frail lately. I worry that one of these days she’ll get sick and just give up and die." Moving away from his work, Grady wiped the sweat from his brow onto his shirt sleeve. "I guess it must hurt the way she still thinks so highly of Patrick after he ran off and left you like that. I still can’t believe he did it. I’ll never understand why he never came back to see how you two were getting on." "It doesn’t surprise me one bit. When he lit out for California looking for that gambler, I never in my life expected to see him again. I would like to know if he ever found the man and if he did, what happened. But I guess I never will. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he didn’t just stay on in the gold fields after chasin’ around for a while looking for Lincoln Bradley." "Yeah, he’s the kind who would be lured to the gold fields, all right. And that gambler too. I hear tell that California has more gamblers and sportin’ women than prospectors." "I can’t speak for the gambler, but that does just about describe the sort of place my brother would choose, doesn’t it?" She smiled ruefully as she turned to leave. Grady watched her retreating figure with an aching heart. Lincoln’s prediction about her beauty had come true in spades. Shinonn Flannery had indeed grown into one of the most beautiful women in the territory. But at the tender age of eighteen she had already let all her prospective suitors know that she was not the least bit interested in marriage. She could do very well without that nonsense, thank you very much. Even the most determined swains quickly found it more pleasant to court less attractive but better tempered girls. At first Grady had been elated to see one after another of the interested young men drop by the wayside, thinking that with the elimination of each his own chances were strengthened. But eventually he realized his chances were no better than any of the others. Shinonn was soured on men and there wasn’t much he could do to change her mind. Yet he continued to admire her. Against all odds she had saved the family business. Hampered as she was with her mother, she still found the time and energy to work harder than most men. Between the two of them, the blacksmith shop and the stable were doing better than they had in her father’s best years. He realized that his own help had been essential, yet without her persistence, the business would have collapsed within the first six months after Sean’s death. Later, when Shinonn entered the house to prepare the noon meal she noticed that her mother appeared a bit flushed.

"Mum, you feeling all right?" She didn’t really expect a reply. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had spoken directly to her. "I’m so glad you’re here, Sean, dear. I’ve been waiting so long for you to come home. Would you bring me some cold lemonade?" Shinonn went to the kitchen to get the lemonade and a cold cloth to wipe her mother’s warm brow. She couldn’t tell for sure if Rose was feverish or simply overheated. The house was an oven! Why in God’s good name did her mother insist on keeping the place closed up? Before returning to the stable, Shinonn stopped by the doctor’s office to ask him to look in on her mother. "It may just be my imagination, but Mum seems a bit flushed to me," she explained. "She’s so fragile, Doc. I really worry about her." "She’s probably fine, Shinonn. But I’ll be happy to stop by. You know I’m always happy to be of any help to you or your mother. The truth of it is, there has been a lot of the grippe going around lately, so I’d feel better if we didn’t take any chances." Shinonn felt a stab of fear race through her at the mention of influenza. In her weakened state, could Rose fight off such an illness? She was busy cleaning out stalls when Doc Miller stopped by the corral later that afternoon. "It’s not good news," he said as soon as he saw her. "Rose is showing all the classic symptoms of influenza. If we only had a hospital near where she could get the proper care! I’ll spend as much time with her as I can, but she really needs full time nursing." "It’s as bad as that? But she seemed only a little flushed at noon." "Her temperature has already climbed too high. And she’s beginning to develop a cough. The worst problem with this strain of the disease is that it often fills the lungs. If that happens the situation becomes critical." The doctor’s words sent a chill of apprehension through Shinonn. Not only was her mother already in a weakened condition, the daughter was well aware that Rose had long ago lost the will to live. She was certain her mother would welcome the opportunity to join her beloved Sean. "There’s only so much we can do for her, Shinonn," the doctor continued. "The rest is up to the good Lord and Rose herself." *** On a cold and blustery Sunday afternoon in late March, Rose Flannery was laid to her eternal rest next to her beloved husband. In the last few moments of life she had looked into her daughter’s eyes and spoken the most lucid words she had uttered in five years.

"I’ll be with your da soon, Shinonn, my girl," she said with a peaceful smile on her lips. "I’ve been an awful chore to you since Sean died, haven’t I, girl? All you’ve done for me and never a word of thanks. I want you to know I’m grateful to you. "Ah, if only I could have seen me Patrick just this one last time." And then she was gone. Shinonn was denied that last chance to tell her mother she loved her. Her emotions were torn between grief and shock at realizing that Rose had known all along about her husband’s death and her son’s disappearance. Why had she preferred to ignore the daughter who loved and cared for her and pretend to be surrounded by a drunkard husband and a selfish good-for-nothing son? Could the answer be that she had chosen to live with those she truly loved? *** A small procession of mourners trailed silently across the windswept cemetery, gathering around the freshly dug grave. Next to the open grave stood the faded marker of Sean’s final resting place. Shinonn noted how the wooden fence that surrounded her family’s plot sagged along its northern border. It seemed a fitting statement, she thought sadly. After the preacher had given his short talk about eternity and how Rose as "now in a better place than we", Shinonn reached out and took the shovel Grady had carried for her. She began to heap the heavy soil onto the coffin lying deep within the hole. Several men stepped forward, offering to take the shovel from her hands but she waved them away. "No," she said, as Grady reached out to take the tool, "this is something I want to do myself. I thank you all for coming, and I know you want to help, but I have to do this myself." She continued shoveling until all the dirt was returned to the hole and a long mound covered the spot where her mother rested. "I know this isn’t the time to speak of such things, Shinonn, but I was wondering what you were planning to do now that you’re alone. I mean, are you going to stay on, living alone in that house of yours?" Grady asked as the two of them trudged back to town after the funeral. "I haven’t had too much time to think about it, to tell you the truth. But, no, I don’t much like the idea of living in the house alone." She couldn’t help but notice the look of relief that swept across the young man’s face. Now, what does he have in mind, she wondered? Putting his hand on her shoulder, he stopped walking and gently turned her to face him. "You may not have been doin’ much thinking about it, but I’ve been doing nothing but thinking. That is, what I was wondering is, I think you ought to be getting married. You ought to settle down, have your own family." The poor man blushed scarlet as he clumsily took her hand. "I’d be the happiest man in the territory if you’d be my wife, Shinonn." "Oh, Grady, I haven’t even thought of marriage! Why, I’d pretty much decided I’d never get married. Oh, please, I don’t mean to hurt you! It’s just that, ... well, I’ve never been free for a day of my life! Oh,

how can I explain without hurting you?" "Don’t worry about me. I didn’t want to upset you or nothing. I just want to take care of you. Why, you’ve been takin’ care of someone all your life. I just thought it was about time someone took care of you for a change." "You’re just about the best friend anyone ever had, Grady Hobbs. Can’t we just keep on being friends? Do we have to change things now?" "No, of course not," he answered with a rueful grin. "Come on, let’s get back to town. We’ll catch colds for sure if we stay out here in this wind much longer." He put a protective arm around her shoulders and began walking down the deserted road. *** "I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, about me living alone in that old house, Grady," Shinonn greeted the blacksmith when he came to work the next morning. "Let’s go back to the house for some coffee and a talk before we get to work. I’ve got a business proposition for you." He looked at her curiously but held his questions until they were sitting in her small but tidy kitchen. "Well! And what is this ‘business proposition’?" "How much money do you have saved up? Oh, I know I’m being awful nosy, but this is important. How much do you have?" "Nearly four hundred dollars, why?" "How would you like to own your own business? I’ll sell all of it, blacksmith shop, the livery stable and this house for half of what you’ve got saved. What do you say?" "Sure, I’ll buy it from you, if that’s what you want. But not for no piddling two hundred dollars. You take three-fifty or we forget it. Even at that I still feel like I’m skinning you." "You got a deal! Let’s shake on it." "But what are you going to do? Three hundred-fifty dollars ain’t all that much. It won’t last forever, you know." "I know that, but it’ll take me where I want to go. I’m going out west, Grady. I’m getting out of this godforsaken place at long last." "You must be crazy! A girl can’t just get up and take off like that!" "This girl can. I sat here and watched my brother take off, free as a bird, and nobody thought a thing about it. Well, it’s my turn now. I’m eighteen years old and I’ve never seen any place but this dirty little town and a half dozen towns just like it. I’m going, Grady. One way or another, I’m going. Your money will help me do it better, but even if I don’t sell out to you, I’m still getting out." "I’ll give you the money, you know I will. But you don’t know how rough it can be on the trail. It’s hard enough for a man, but it would be flat out dangerous for a woman."

"I’ve been pondering on that and I’ve got myself a plan. But if I tell you about it, you’ll only start telling me I’m crazy again, so I won’t. One thing though, as part of the deal I want to take my pick of two of the horses from the stable, okay? "Sure, you don’t even have to ask. Take anything you want. But, gosh, Shinonn, I sure wish you’d change your mind. This ain’t such a bad place to live. I just wish you’d think about what I asked you yesterday." "Grady, I like you too much to saddle you with someone like me. I’d never make you happy. I can’t be happy here myself, so I’d just end up making both of us miserable. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, probably the best one I’ll ever will have. I don’t want to go and spoil that friendship by turning into a nagging, miserable wife." "If you’re sure this is what you want, I guess you’ve got yourself a deal," he told her with a sad smile. "When do you want to go?" "Right now. I can be packed and out of this house in less than an hour. There’s not much here I plan on taking with me," she answered as she looked around the small room. "Okay, then. I’ll go to the bank and get the money. But I still think you’re making a mistake." "Maybe I am, but all I know is this is something I have to do. And hey, stop worrying! You know I can handle myself better’n most men." Shaking his head sadly, Grady left the house and trudged down the road to the town’s only bank. While he was gone Shinonn began the serious business of deciding what she should and shouldn’t take with her. She made a bundle of the cooking utensils she would need on the trail, along with basic food staples. From the small parlor she took only one item, a small faded picture of her parents on their wedding day. She stood looking in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to picture life on the trail. Grady was right, a lone woman would be a dangerous target. She pulled the pins from her long, thick, raven colored hair and shook it loose until it hung nearly to her waist. This will have to go, she thought to herself as she reached for a pair of shears. Without a second thought, she began clipping away, leaving only inches of springy curls. When she was through she stood amidst a pile of shiny black tresses. She shook her head vigorously. What freedom! She felt better already. For one brief moment her eyes became riveted to her reflection. How different she looked! Patrick would never recognize her like this if she ever did run across him. And Lincoln Bradley! Suddenly his words came tumbling from her memory. His teasing suggestion that he might come back to see the beautiful woman he had predicted she would become brought a tingling sensation throughout her body. Would he still find her beautiful, she wondered? Was it possible that they might yet meet again? "What have you done to yourself?" Grady stared incredulously at her as he stepped into the parlor.

She stood before him, hands on hips, feet spread apart. In his absence she had not only cut her hair, but had found some of her brother’s clothes that Rose had lovingly stored away. Finding the closest fit, she had put on a pair of trousers, a shirt and a gun belt. For years she had been wearing heavy work boots under her calico skirts. Worn with the pants, they looked like any ordinary working man’s boots. "Well, what do you think?" "I think that if you mean to pass yourself off as a man, you’d better wear a larger size shirt!" he replied with a mixture of anger and exasperation. Surveying herself in the mirror, she realized he was right. But other than that, she was certain she could pull off the deception. Going through the old trunk, she found several heavy shirts that would be more concealing than the one she now wore. She stuffed all but one of them into a saddle bag. Rolling up a couple more pairs of trousers and pushing them in with the shirts, she stood up and looked Grady square in the eyes. "I’m going now, Grady. Wish me luck." "You’re going to need it, you fool girl. And more luck than I can give you. "Here, let me carry some of that stuff for you," he offered as she grabbed up the saddle bags, bedroll and cooking utensils. She went to the stalls and selected two sturdy, reliable horses and led them out to be outfitted. Grady watched as she threw on a blanket and then a saddle on one, tightening the cinch carefully. "I’ll never forget you, Grady." She flung herself into his arms and hugged him with all her strength. "I’ll try to send word to you and let you know how I’m getting along. Be happy," she ended wistfully. Then, before she could change her mind, she swept up into the saddle. Grabbing the reins of the second horse, she trotted both animals to the eastern boundary of the small town. She turned the horses and sat statue still in the saddle, gazing at the village that spread before her, making note of each and every building and person in view. She sat there for several minutes, and then, with a loud whoopee, she slapped her hat against the rump of her mount and rode thundering down the familiar street, riding hard until the town was far behind her.

Chapter 4

Grady’s right, I must be crazy, Shinonn thought as she sat on her haunches beside the creek, washing her dinner dishes. I must be daft, being out here on the trail alone like this. Gathering the utensils, she returned to her small campfire. The sun was just beginning to sink beneath the western horizon. She eyed the burning coals with concern. Would their light announce her presence to others? Did she dare keep the fire going as the night grew colder? Sitting on a boulder close to the still warm remnants of her campfire, she cradled a mug of coffee in both hands. A wave of apprehension swept over her as she sat there all alone in the gathering darkness. Although the campsite offered a fair amount of seclusion, she still felt exposed. She had chosen a site in a

thick stand of trees that straddled a swiftly running stream, more than half a mile from the lightly traveled road. Although the remoteness of the site gave her a fair amount of assurance that her presence would not be noticed by other travelers, in truth, she had never felt so alone before. If she felt this insecure hidden as she was, what could she expect of the next night? And all of the nights she would have to face before she reached her destination. For that matter, where exactly was her destination, she wondered. Embers sizzled and spit steam as she threw the remains of the coffee onto the glowing coals. Refilling the mug with water from the stream, she returned to the campsite and doused the last of the fire, opting for the safety of total darkness. Lying on her back, head pillowed on her saddle bag, Shinonn stared at the millions of stars above, forcing aside the fear which had been building within her. She didn’t have time for fear. She had some decisions to make. She must decide once and for all just where it was she was headed. She had told Grady she was going out west, but from Plainsville, Illinois, "west" consisted of thousands of miles of alien territory. She had assumed long ago that her brother, Patrick, had most likely headed to California’s gold fields. Should she trail after him? Did she even want to find that worthless excuse for a man? But he’s all the family I’ve got left, she reminded herself. Seems like the right thing to do would be to find him and give him another chance to be the man he should be. Or is it that gambling man you really want to see, a taunting voice from the deep recesses of her mind asked. If she were to be honest with herself, she would have to admit that the man had always teased at her memory. She could never completely forget his soft, rasping voice and admiring eyes. Would his lips be as warm as his eyes, she wondered? She tried to put his image out of her mind, ashamed she harbored anything but hatred for the man who had killed her father. Sure it was an accident, but the fact remained, if he hadn’t been gambling with her da, maybe even cheating for that matter, she might still have both parents alive today. What is it about that man that won’t let go of me? Is it revenge I want from him? Or is it to hear his voice again? If he saw me now would he still have that special look in his eye? She shuddered with a strange emotion as she remembered how he had looked at her that day at the stable. Suddenly she was terrified of these new, inexplicable feelings. No, I don’t care what he sees in me! It’s not his admiration I want. It’s revenge. He’ll pay for taking my da away! The next morning Shinonn set her mount at an easy canter, heading due west, toward St. Joseph, Missouri. She would have to cross the entire state of Missouri to reach the town which was now famous as one of the largest staging areas for wagon trains heading west. She planned on using the time it would take her to reach St. Joe to form her plans, to take on the identity she would need to assume while traveling with the train. When she had cut her hair and dressed in Patrick’s clothes, she had taken the first steps to masking the fact that she was a lone female. But the task was not complete. She must make up an entirely new identity for herself. A new name. A new past. As the horses trotted along, she considered her options. She would have to be young enough to not

have a beard, yet old enough to be traveling alone. Fifteen - that would be just about right. And I’ll be an orphan, which is true enough. That’ll explain why I’m all by myself. Stay with the truth as much as possible, she thought. The fewer lies she told meant less for her to have to remember, with fewer chances of contradicting herself. Well, I sure as anything can’t keep the same name. But who shall I be? Let’s see. Just looking at me anyone would guess I’m Irish, so what’s a good Irish lad’s name? Um, I always liked the name of Timothy. What could be more Irish than Tim O’Brien? All right, that’s who I am, Tim O’Brien. And I’m fifteen years old. My folks both died of influenza and I’m off to find my only living relative, a cousin by the name of Patrick Flannery, who is working somewhere in the gold fields. That should satisfy most folk’s curiosity. *** Shinonn slowed her horses as she drew near the outskirts of St. Joseph. The city sparkled in the aftermath of a light spring shower. She passed houses that sat far back on lush, emerald green lawns. Spring flowers waved gaily to her as she rode down the street. Filled with a sudden sense of exhilaration, she was tempted to stay right here in this wonderful city. St. Joseph was nothing like the villages she had grown up in. Was it possible that a more exciting place existed anywhere on earth? The streets teemed with people. Every sort of conveyance imaginable crowded the busy street. And the shops! Her mind reeled with the wonder of so many stores all lined up side-by-side, block after block. How could a person ever decide which shops to frequent? And who could possibly have money enough to live in such splendor? Finally, trying not to appear like the country bumpkin that she was, she asked a lounging youth for directions to the wagon train gathering grounds. The young man shifted his weight on the bench he was slouching on and managed to gather enough energy to point off toward the north. "Jest keep goin’ in that there direction and you’ll soon enough catch the wind of the place. With all the livestock they got out there, they ain’t no way you can miss it," he drawled. As she continued along the crowded streets, she began to sense a change in the atmosphere. Gradually the masses of "city" people were replaced by a much different type of individual. Now the women were dressed in sturdier fabric; the men wore clothes which would be more practical on a long journey than would a shopkeeper’s black suit. Soon she noticed an all too familiar animal scent in the air, reminding her suddenly of the stable and corral she had left so far behind. She quickened the pace of her mount, anxious to reach the campsite. Her blood raced with excitement when she heard the lowing of the cattle, the barking of dogs, babies crying. The homey sounds reached out to her, beckoning her to come and join the adventure. As she approached the huge open fields where the wagons had been gathered, a sense of awe overcame her. Even her active imagination had not prepared her for the scene which appeared before her. The camp of waiting travelers, stretching for miles, was a city in itself. Every type of wagon imaginable could be seen, although the most common was the huge Conistoga. For families traveling with all of their

belongings for thousands of miles, the Conistoga would seem to be far and above the most practical choice. They were sturdy, and large enough to carry most of a family’s possessions, while also offering them shelter from the elements. No curious eyes turned her way as she threaded through the mass of people, camp sites and animals. With all the excitement in the air, who could be bothered with just one more young pilgrim? Women toiled over fires, preparing the evening meal. Children either helped their mothers or amused themselves around the wagons. Men tinkered with wagon wheels, horse trappings or the massive yokes the oxen would wear as they struggled to pull the heavy load of wagons filled to the brim with family treasures. A rag tag town stood near the center of the huge encampment. Tent stores had been set up to handle the needs of the waiting travelers. Among the ragged structures, Shinonn noted several hastily built saloons. Leaving the tent village behind, she continued, looking for a likely place to set up her own camp. She felt exposed among so many people. If she could just find a spot with at least a couple of bushes for a bit of privacy! Finally, settling for less than perfection, she pulled her mount to a halt and began unburdening the animals. Her camp was next to a small, muddy creak. A scrawny, stunted willow offered shade and the illusion of privacy, if not the fact. Taking off her sturdy boots, Shinonn stood in the muddy stream as she curried the sweaty horses. They drank gratefully from the water as it swirled past. The cool water felt wonderful after the long days of traveling. And it felt good to be caring for her horses, she realized, as she stretched her aching shoulder muscles with each sweep of the brush across the horses sweaty hides. As she worked, her eyes scanned the scene around her and she began to form a plan. She wasn’t exactly certain how she would arrange to join a train heading west, but she was determined that within the next few days she would be on her way west. She managed to set up camp, start a small cooking fire and prepare a simple meal while her mind was totally occupied with the problem of how she was going to go about getting herself attached to a wagon train. Although she still had most of the money she had gotten from Grady, she was smart enough to hold on to all she could. She wasn’t about to just walk up to one of the wagon masters and offer to buy a spot. For one thing, there was a fair to middling chance that she wouldn’t be accepted. After all, she was just a boy, traveling alone, with nothing more than a couple of horses and what she carried in her saddle bags. Most wagon masters would consider her just one more problem waiting to happen. But she was certain she could come up with an angle, some way to get herself hired onto a train. With that thought in mind, she spent the next couple of days wandering about the camp, listening to talk, watching the action. She soon learned that several trains would emerge from the hodgepodge of wagons that were scattered as far as the eye could see. As she wandered, seemingly aimlessly among the mass of people, she kept her eyes and ears open, intent on learning everything she could. She learned which trains would be heading out within the next few days, who would be leading which trains, which wagon masters were the best thought of.

Late in the afternoon of her second week in St. Joe, Shinonn overhead a conversation which made her heart skip a beat. Several men had gathered in front of an outfitter’s tent. Just as she passed the group, she heard one of the men mention that he desperately needed to find a reliable teamster to drive his wagon. His wife had recently given birth and was too weak to drive the wagon as they had originally planned. When they had left their home in the east, he had presumed he would drive the wagon, but they had learned soon enough that he would have to lead the oxen for most of the trip and that another pair of hands would be needed to handle the reins. If he couldn’t find someone to help soon, they would be forced to turn around and head back to where they had come from. Shinonn waited until the men had finished their conversation and began to head back to their camps for supper. "Mister?" she called to the man as he began to walk away. "Please, sir, can I talk to you?" she called again as she ran after him. "What can I do for you, son?" He turned toward her, an expression of curiosity in his eyes. "I can help you, sir. That is, what I mean to say is, I can drive your oxen for you." "Not meanin’ to hurt your feelings, sonny, but you don’t seem big enough to be away from your mamma’s apron strings. It don’t seem likely you could drive a wagon team half way across a continent." "I may be a mite small, mister, but I’ll wager I can handle any animal you’ve got. I’ve spent most of my life working with horses and I’m lots stronger than I look. I even know a bit about blacksmithing, if the need came up." "Blacksmithing, you say?" The man looked at Shinonn with new interest. "Yes, sir. My da was a smithy and I helped him a lot. I ran the stable all by myself, too. You’ll not be sorry you hired me, sir. I can guarantee you won’t be." "Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m not saying yea or nay just yet. I still think you’re a mite small for the job. But what say you come along with me and meet the missis? We’ll see if she can’t find an extra plate for dinner. That sound all right to you?" "Yes, sir! A woman’s cooking sure does sound good!" "Horace Carter," the man stated as he held out his hand. "And what did you say your name was, boy?" "Um, Tim, sir, Tim O’Brien," she answered as she shook the outstretched hand, using the firmest grip she could muster. Thanks to the long days on the trail and the years of hard labor at the corral, her hands were callused and firm. They bore little resemblance to the soft, delicate hands of a woman. "Irish, eh? I thought you might be." Horace Carter tipped his head to one side, appraising the boy carefully. "Not a drinker, are you? The wife and I don’t abide drinking." "No, sir. I hate the stuff with a passion"

"I should certainly hope so. But your people do have a reputation for drunkenness. Well, I don’t suppose it would be Christian to blame you for your ancestors excesses. Come along." The pompous goat, Shinonn thought angrily as she trailed along behind him. Still, if she could hold her tongue, she might just talk him into hiring her. She wanted the job, no matter if she liked her employer or not. Etta Carter turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Years younger than her husband, she seemed genuinely pleased to have "Tim" as a dinner guest. Shinonn suspected from her soft Southern accent and gracious manners that the young woman felt out of place in the rough environment of the wagon camp. During the course of the meal Shinonn allowed the couple to draw out the story of her life, being careful to stick to the tale she had created that night on the trail. She saw the look of compassion in Etta’s eyes as she related the tragedy of her parent’s deaths. She explained that she was in search of her only living relative, Patrick Flannery, a cousin who was working in the gold fields in California. "My goodness! How will you ever find this cousin of yours? You can’t just wander all over the mountains looking for him. Do you have any idea where he might be?" "I’ll find him, ma’am. If I can get to California, I know I’ll find cousin Patrick." "Horace, we’ve simply got to help this brave young man! Why, I’ve never heard of more courage in my life." The man looked doubtful, but Shinonn could see he was weakening. Horace thoughtfully pulled out two cigars and, nipping the end off of one, handed the other to Shinonn. "Care for an after dinner smoke?" She took the cigar, bit the end off like she had seen her father do a thousand times, and leaned forward to light it off Horace’s match. She puffed several times to keep it lit, then casually took it from her lips, looking for all the world as if she had smoked cigars all her life. "Mr. Carter, do you think we could discuss the job now? I’d sure like to have it settled as soon as possible.’ "Well, I guess we had better come to some agreement. Our train is leaving day after tomorrow and if I don’t hire a hand by then, Etta and I might just as well turn around and head back east. "I still think you’re a little on the young side, but I’m up against a rock and a hard spot here," he grumbled. He sat for a moment, gazing at the ground. Finally he looked at Shinonn and nodded his head. "You’ve got the job, sonny. I just hope the Good Lord takes care of us all!" There was a decided spring to Shinonn’s step as she walked back to her campsite that night. She knocked the ashes from her cigar with a practiced flourish as she strolled along, totally pleased with how she had handled herself. When she returned to the Carter’s wagon the next morning, Horace was prepared to finalize their contract. He proposed the following: Tim would help with driving the wagon and spell Horace at leading the oxen. The boy was also expected to handle any blacksmithing tasks that might crop up and help Etta around the camp. For these services the Carters would provide food for Tim and his two horses. They

would also pay for his passage on the train. Shinonn would stay with them until the train reached the California split. At that point the Carters intended to continue on to Oregon and Tim would be free to go to the gold fields. A simple handshake sealed the verbal contract. Although her husband was still a bit apprehensive about Tim’s age, Etta was overjoyed to have the boy’s companionship for the long journey ahead. "Don’t you think he looks just like my baby brother, Johnny?" she asked her husband after all the arrangements had been agreed upon. "Why, I feel just like he’s family!" *** Light was just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon when Shinonn crawled out of her bedroll and began to break camp. A pot of coffee boiled away over the last campfire she would light at St. Joseph, Missouri. Misty clouds floated eerily over the meadow where people busied themselves, preparing to start out on the grandest adventure of their lives. At six in the morning of May 16, 1855, a bugle sounded, calling together all those who would begin the westward trek that day. Wagons began pulling toward the staging area. At first it was utter chaos as wagons, children, men and women, old and young, dogs, horses, mules and oxen all tried to find their way to the same open field. One man seemed to be everywhere, giving directions, yelling orders, cussing like Shinonn had never heard before. Even a stranger would have guessed him to be the leader of the motley assortment of wagons. He was the wagon master, the man who was responsible for getting them all safely to their destinations. When forty wagons had reached the staging area, two long blasts on the bugle announced a meeting of all the men, the last meeting they would have before turning their faces west for the long haul ahead. Shinonn stood with the men, an accepted member of the group since she had signed on with Horace Carter. She strained to catch the words of Big Ed Peterson, the wagon master. He had a booming voice to match his enormous body, but there were so many people milling about that she had difficulty hearing all he said. "You’ve got your numbers, so there’s no excuse for getting out of order. Now, you all stay in the order I’ve put you, unless I say otherwise. "We’ll be traveling in sets of ten, with cattle following each set. When we set up camp tonight, we’ll practice making the circles. I want to see four circles of wagons, ten wagons each. And no questions about who’s in which circle. Got that? "If any of you have problems with each other, you bring those problems to me. I won’t be having you fighting amongst yourselves. We’re going to have problems enough without you people making more. "Now, I am the captain of this assembly. I am the law. The only law. What I say goes. Anyone who can’t abide by that had better pull out now." He paused and looked around the gathering of men. Finally, apparently satisfied he had said all that was necessary, he ended his remarks with a simple question. "Gentlemen, shall we be on our way?"

He climbed upon his huge stallion and began barking orders as the assembled men returned to their families. Big Ed’s hired crew somehow managed to get the first wagons heading in the right direction and, one by one, the others fell into line. A cool breeze seemed to wave farewell to the emigrants as they left the safety of civilization and headed toward their dreams.

Chapter 5

The air was split with a loud "ka-wack!" as Shinonn cracked the whip crisply just behind the lead oxen’s ear. A thrill raced through her veins at the decisive sound. Sitting side-by-side on the high seat of the Conestoga, she and Etta Carter grinned at each other with uncontrolled excitement as they felt the wheels beneath them turn. This was it! They were finally on their way. Etta held tiny Hannah in her arms, the baby making fretful noises as the wagon began its creaky journey along the hard packed, well-traveled road. Sitting so close to the child, Shinonn felt an added pressure to handle the awkward leather reins with utmost care. "I don’t know if Hannah can actually sense the excitement I’m feeling or if she’s just hungry," Etta said as she gently rocked her restless daughter. "Do you think such a young baby might actually feel all the excitement in the air?" "I’m not one to be asking about babies, ma’am. I was an only child, and my ma, well, she didn’t have many lady friends around. I don’t rightly remember even holding an infant before." "Well, we’ll remedy that before this journey is over." Etta held the baby to her shoulder, patting her gently on the back in an effort to stop her fussing. When the cries only increased in intensity, she realized that Hannah wanted more than she was getting at the moment. "It appears that just holding Hannah isn’t going to shush her this time. She’s bound and determined to have her breakfast right here and now." Etta handed Shinonn the tiny, squirming child while she climbed down into the recesses of the wagon. Reaching up for her daughter, the young mother smiled radiantly into Shinonn’s eyes. "I don’t believe I’ve ever been so happy in all my life, Tim. Horace has been having doubts that we’re doing the right, bringing Hannah out to a new, unsettled land and all, but I’m sure we’ve made the right decision. I can hardly wait to see Oregon and the great Pacific Ocean. What a wonderful life she will have!" The young mother’s enthusiasm added fuel to the already brightly burning fire within Shinonn’s breast. She remembered the dullness of the life she herself had left behind. Whatever happened in the days to come, she was certain the deadening dullness of prairie life would never entrap her again. Etta had fastened the canvas covering the wagon so she could nurse her child in privacy, but Shinonn could hear her crooning softly as the baby suckled. What good fortune that she had found the Carters. Although Horace tried to act gruff, inside he was a good and caring man. And Etta was like the sister Shinonn had never had. A light of love glittered brightly between the married couple, overflowing happily to the child their love had created.

I wonder what it would be like to be loved like that, Shinonn thought wistfully, to have a man look at her in that special way, to have him pledge his life to loving only her. Suddenly the image of Lincoln Bradley filled her mind. A stab of longing filled her as she remembered his brooding eyes, his hauntingly soft voice, the unspoken promise of his mysterious half-smile. Don’t be daft, her practical mind argued. Haven’t you had enough of men in your life? Do you want to be another Rose Flannery, living in the shadow of an irresponsible man? Stop thinking like a romantic girl and remember who you’re supposed to be. If you aren’t careful, you’ll let your disguise slip and will be exposed for the fraud you are. Then where will you be? She cracked the whip again, reminding the oxen who was in charge. The pace was slow but steady, exactly what such animals were most suited for. Shinonn found herself craving more speed, but knew that a steady pace was what it would take to cross the vast territory ahead. The slowly moving line of wagons stretched out for nearly a mile. Between each set of ten wagons trailed a small heard of cattle with extra horses tied behind most of the wagons. Men rode on horseback alongside the wagons, urging the oxen on, chasing down wandering beefs, checking harness riggings. And most surprising of all to Shinonn, most of the women who were not actually driving wagons walked beside them. Children who were old enough to keep up the pace, walked with their mothers. Could these people actually plan on walking all the way to California or Oregon? As the days progressed, Shinonn discovered that this was precisely what was expected of the women and children. As the wagon train inched its way across the vast land, friendships and enmities formed. Fortunately, those travelers in Shinonn’s group of wagons got along well enough. Before many days had passed a bond of camaraderie formed between the various families, drawing them together, creating a tightly knit community. The couple traveling in the wagon just in front of the Carter’s Conestoga amused and fascinated Shinonn. The wife, Sofie Santini, appeared to be in her late twenties, while her husband, Alex, looked to be nearly fifty years old. Pretty Sofie, with her pale blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, had more than her share of feminine curves. High spirited, she appeared unable to refrain from flirting with every man she met. Far from becoming angry, her husband seemed amused by his high spirited wife. Rather than showing jealousy, he seemed quite content to bask in her sunny disposition. Watching the two together one evening, Shinonn decided that they seemed more like very close friends than husband and wife. Sofie’s flirting might have been expected to cause jealousy among the married women, but it was so obviously unintentional and her open, friendly attention to the women so pleasant, that she was generally accepted by all. Besides the Santinis, their group consisted of young men traveling to the gold fields of California, several families planning on settling in Oregon, and a fiery preacher who had heard the voice of God directing him to "save the doomed sinners trapped in the devil’s web of greed and lust." Having heard this edict from above, he had headed immediately for the gold and silver mines of Nevada and California, figuring that nowhere else on earth could there be found more greed and lust. *** "I swear, at the rate we’re traveling, it’ll be Christmas before we reach Fort Laramie," Shinonn grumbled to Etta. They had been on the trail for nearly a month without seeing so much as a trace of civilization. "Who’d have thought it would take so long to travel six hundred miles! Why, I could have walked there

and back by now." Etta made a futile attempt at brushing an unruly tendril of her light brown hair from her eyes, a useless gesture considering the relentless dirt filled wind that had been plaguing the travelers for more days than they could remember. "Those poor, miserable beasts," Etta sighed, looking balefully at the team of oxen as they strained to pull their heavy load. "As hard as this slow pace is for us, they’re giving us all they have." With the never ending boredom of uneventful tracking along the trail, each day became a twin of the last. From horizon to horizon, all that could be seen was the flat, grassy plains of the middle of the continent. The wagon master and his men knew the terrain well and nearly always found a potable stream by which they could camp at night. Then, before the break of dawn the bugle sounded and the next day began. Another day of hurried meals, plodding oxen, caring for cattle and horses. But through it all, Shinonn tried to carry a light heart. Each plodding step the oxen took led her further from the life she sought to escape and nearer to the adventurous life she hungered for. "See those mountains way off in the distance?" Sofie Santini asked one evening as she and Alex sat visiting with Shinonn and Etta. "Alex tells me that those are the great Rocky Mountains. He says Fort Laramie sits right at the foot of the Rockies. He heard we should be there in three, maybe four day’s time." An expression of pure joy lit Etta’s pretty face. "Fort Laramie! Can it be true? Fresh provisions! Oh, I can hardly wait to see fresh fruit again. And vegetables! I’d give just about anything I have for one bite of just about any kind of fresh vegetable. I can’t tell you how sick I am of wild mustard greens. And beans! Just think, we’ll be eating beans for months to come." "I’ll just be glad to set my eyes on those soldiers they’ve got stationed at the fort," Alex said. "I must be honest with you ladies, I’ve been a city man all my life and all this open space makes me nervous. I can’t help but feel like I’ve got a hundred Indian eyes staring at me every minute. It’s downright disconcerting, I’ll tell you." "Oh, Alex, it’s just like you to be worried about something all the time," Sofie gently teased. "What would any old Indian want with the likes of us, anyway?" "Well, just the same, I’m more than glad that Fort Laramie has been changed from a fur trading post into a real fort. Travelers like us need all the protection from the hostiles we can get." "Don’t you worry about a thing, Mr. Santini. As long as we have men like my Horace, and brave boys like Tim here, nothing bad is ever going to happen to this train." Etta smiled with pride in Shinonn’s direction. "Why, have you seen Tim at rifle practice? He shoots straighter than most of our scouts. You have a real talent with that rifle, Tim." "Thank you, ma’am. But shooting at a target ain’t the same as aiming for an Indian riding a fast horse. I’m hoping we’ll be lucky and I’ll never have to find out how good I am at killing Indians." Three days later, amidst the ever pervasive cloud of prairie dust, Shinonn’s wagon train drew up to the

walls of Fort Laramie. Again the wagons were drawn into their circles, but this time everyone knew there would be a few days of rest. The animals, as well as the adventurous travelers, were much in need of the respite the fort offered. A festive air spread throughout the camp as tubs were brought out for bathing and clothes were washed and spread on every available bush to dry. Later in the evening, several fiddles appeared for an evening of singing and dancing. "Better get on over here and let Sofie give you a hair cut, Tim," Alex called across to Shinonn as he brushed away loose hair from his collar. "With those long curly locks of yours, every lonely solder in the Fort will be thinking you’re a pretty girl." With a sheepish grin, Shinonn lowered herself to the newly abandoned stool. "Cut away, Miz Santini. I’m sure not wanting those love starved soldiers giving me the eye," she laughed self-consciously. Inside she seethed with anger at herself. How could she have been so stupid as to forget to keep her hair cut short? She had been so careful to maintain masculine actions and attitudes, but since she hadn’t looked in a mirror for weeks, she had completely forgotten how feminine her curly hair must look as it grew longer. "I do declare," Sofie commented as she clipped away at the offending locks, "I know about a dozen women who would kill to have curly hair like yours. And those eyelashes! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone with such thick lashes. Alex, would you believe Tim actually has two rows of lashes where everyone else has but one? It simply isn’t fair that nature wasted such beauty on a man." Shinonn resisted the urge to squirm with embarrassment at Sofie’s praise. "Ah, Miz Santini, I can’t help those things. That’s just the way everyone on my ma’s side of the family was." "Just count your blessings, Tim. Count your blessings. One of these days you’ll find some pretty little thing who won’t be able to resist those gorgeous eyes of yours." Sofie laughed at Tim’s obvious discomfort. Etta returned from the fort with a sample of every edible fruit and vegetable she could find. Although they faced weeks, perhaps months, of dreary camp food, for the next few days her little family would eat like royalty. The heady aroma of simmering stews drifted from camp site to camp site as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains. Soon the lilting sound of fiddles and mouth harps filled the air. At Sofie’s direction, Alex rolled up the canvas on one side of their wagon, displaying to everyone’s amazement an ornately carved piano. "It was the only thing I inherited from my sainted mother, God rest her soul," she explained to Horace Carter as he stood gaping at the bizarre sight. "I can’t think of a better time to break it out, can you? Tonight we’re going to have a party that will make Fort Laramie history. Come on, Alex, get on up there and get these people dancing!" Before the night was over only the preacher declined to dance in the flickering light of the camp fires.

Shinonn watched with delight as Horace grabbed Etta’s hand and led her to the center of the circle, dancing with a lightness of step she never would have imagined the large man capable of. Before she realized Sofie’s intent, she found herself spinning around the circle herself as they danced and laughed until they fell to the ground exhausted. The wagon train stayed a week at Fort Laramie, resting the oxen before facing the struggle of crossing the awesome Rockies. While the women spent the days working about the camp and visiting with one another, most of the men preferred to discuss the upcoming trail with the men inside the fort who had traveled it extensively. They were told that the weeks they had spent traveling across the vast prairie had barely begun to prepare them for what lay ahead. They heard of Indian attacks, impassable mountains, dying oxen and cattle, not to mention illnesses which sometimes took entire families. The women found their men to be unusually subdued as they prepared to face the awesome mountainous trail ahead. Most of the men carried their concerns inside themselves rather than worry their wives and children, but enough was said that soon the disquiet spread to all. Their fears were quickly put into protective action as each traveler found himself more acutely aware of his surroundings. Rifles were kept at the ready; those on night watch had no fear of falling asleep at their posts as they strained their eyes and ears to note any possible danger. If attack came, it would be the Indians who would be the sorrier, they vowed to one another. Shinonn joined the ranks of the other men, sharing not only the duties of driving the wagon and caring for Horace’s oxen and horses, but now she spent her share of time walking the perimeter of the camp on night watch. She also put in serious hours cleaning and practicing with the rifle Horace entrusted to her. Tucked into her waistband was her fully loaded six shooter. Extra ammunition for both weapons filled her pockets when she was posted to watch. *** It was nearly midnight when she was shaken from her sleep a couple nights out of For Laramie. In an instant she was completely awake, alert to every sound. "It’s time for your shift." The words were softly spoken so as not to wake the others sleeping nearby. "I haven’t heard a thing, but the horses seem a little spooked, so be extry careful." One of the cowboys admonished her. "I tell you true, I’ll be glad to get a little shut eye before that damned bugle blows again." The night swallowed Shinonn as she left the interior of the wagon circle and began her lonely patrol. She placed each foot carefully, making as little noise as possible. She walked a few paces, then stood still, listening with her whole being. Hearing nothing, she repeated the process, slowly circling the wagons. Time stood still as she continued her patrol, walking and listening, walking and listening. An hour or more must have passed as she slowly circled the wagons. She too noticed the unusual skittishness of the horses, making her more cautious than ever. And then she heart it. She was sure she heard a small rustling of the high grass in the meadow off to her right. She froze where she stood, her heart pounding fiercely. "Speak your name or I’ll shoot," she whispered hoarsely. No answer, then another slight rustling of grass.

Not about to take further chances, she shot her rifle in the general direction of the noises. Instantly the camp was alive, shouts coming from the wagons. She heard the sound of bullets being forced into the breeches of rifles. With all the noise from the wagons it was impossible to hear any other sounds from the intruder. And then, in a brief moment of silence, the thundering of hooves could be heard racing away into the night. From that night forward the watches were doubled. All adults, men and women alike, kept loaded guns at the ready. Nerves were taut with anxiety at the thought of an Indian attack. The next encounter with Indians came only a couple of days later. The train had made camp for the night just before nightfall. A woman who was milking her cow was the first to spot the approaching braves. Stifling a scream, she rushed to the inner circle of wagons to spread the word. Soon Ed Peterson was notified and, with a couple of his men, strode out to meet the intruders. Each man carried a rifle at the ready and had a couple of handguns in holsters tied to his legs. The well armed men, striding toward the savages as if none knew the meaning of the word fear, gave the travelers a sense of protection that was more illusion than reality. Shinonn counted eleven braves on horseback. Although they were not painted for war, and wore only simple leather breeches, they seemed quite imposing as they sat on their spirited mounts. Ten of the horses pulled into a rough line while one man slowly walked his mount directly toward Ed. She could not hear what was said between the wagon master and the Indians, but Shinonn deduced that Ed had invited them to enter their camp when all of the natives dismounted, hobbled their horses and followed him to the campsite. As they drew near, Shinonn could hear the men speak and was more than a little surprised that the leader spoke better than passable English. She could only suppose that his education had been the product of a dedicated missionary. Still, just because he spoke her own language, Shinonn wasn’t about to trust his intentions. Ed and the Indians sat in a semicircle while the camp’s cook brought them all bowls of beans and bacon. Next he passed around a platter piled high with soda biscuits dripping with butter made from that morning’s milking. Conversation stopped while the men gorged themselves with the food. It seemed fairly apparent that the Indians had not eaten for quite some time. Finally, the meal finished, the lead Indian stated what he and the others had come for. He told of the hardship of his tribe, that many of the children cried for food. He said the buffalo had deserted them and they could only hunt for deer and smaller game. "We need rifles and ammunition for our hunters," the Indian concluded. "Without them our women and children will die." Shinonn was shocked at their request. Surely Ed Peterson would never give the Indians weapons which would almost certainly be turned against them! "We have only enough rifles and ammunition for our own needs," the wagon master stated firmly. "But we would be happy to share some of our food with your people." The discussion went on for hours, the Indians insisting upon the rifles and Ed, with just as much determination, offering only food. Finally, late in the night, the Indians departed, taking with them sacks of

beans and flour. Shinonn couldn’t shake the fear that the Indians, angry at Ed Peterson’s refusal to give them guns, would come back and attack their train. "Are we doubling our guard again tonight, Mr. Peterson?" she asked the next evening as the wagons pulled into their circles. "Yes, sonny, but only as the usual precaution. I don’t expect any trouble from that scruffy band from last night. Though they were hoping for more, they got more than they expected, I reckon. I don’t look for them to be bothering us again." "But they seemed so determined. I was sure they would try to scalp us all in our sleep." "They’ve been watching us for quite a spell, boy. They know we’re strong and would give them more of a fight than they’re of a mind to bargain for. They won’t be bothering us again." As they left behind the gently rolling foothills of the Rockies, fears of an Indian attack were replaced with new worries. Each day the track grew more difficult - more dangerous. The hours were filled with the back breaking work of hauling heavily loaded wagons up seemingly impossible trails, over passes only the scouts could have found in the rugged wilderness of mountains. The struggle tested each and every member of the train. Every ounce of energy was needed from morning’s earliest light until the train was bedded down for the night. Shinonn could only wonder how long they could all hold out under the grueling strain, but like the others, she rarely spoke her thoughts. Better to toil without complaint than to force her own troubles onto others. She was young and strong; how, she wondered, could the older women work so hard without complaint? *** Shinonn awoke to a gray day, a heavy mist of rain soaking through her blankets and clothes. She groaned as she climbed out of the sodden blankets and stumbled towards the Carter’s campfire. "It looks like we’ll have our work cut out for us today, Tim." Horace Carter sat hunched under a dripping poncho, cupping his hands around a steaming cup of coffee. "Here, better get some of this in you. As miserable as you are now, I’ll venture to say that this may be the best part of the day." Horace’s prediction proved to be more than correct. The heavy, misty rain not only soaked everyone’s clothing and the canvas covering of the wagons, it also sank deeply into the thirsty earth. As the day wore on and the rain continued, the trail became mired in thick, sticky mud. Climbing the mountains, already a tedious and dangerous chore, became a nightmare. Wagon wheels, clogged with mud, bogged down and had to be dug out of by hand. Oxen pulled as they had never pulled before, advancing a few feet, only to slide backwards by several yards. Horace walked alongside the lead oxen, pulling, guiding and cajoling each step of the way. While Etta stayed inside the wagon with the baby, Shinonn sat atop the driver’s seat, leather reins in hand. It took all of her strength to manage the strong and patient beasts. Suddenly, with a sick twisting in her guts, Shinonn felt the earth beneath the wagon shift. At the moment she felt the track slipping away, she grabbed a tighter hold on the reins with one hand and whipped at the

oxen with her other with all her might. She rose from her seat, standing in a semi-crouch, as if her weight and strength of will would pull them all to safety. Just as she was certain the wagon would roll, the oxen gave a mighty heave and they were just as suddenly on solid ground again. But the wagon directly behind the Carter’s was not so lucky. Caught in the middle of the mud slide, there was nothing that could be done to stop it from being rushed over the side of the mountain and into the ravine below. Horace led his team to a safe place and then he and Shinonn joined the others as they all scrambled over the side of the embankment in a feverish rush to rescue the stricken Miller family. Although climbing down the slippery mountain was treacherous, all thought of personal safety seemed to evaporate as they rushed to rescue their fellow travelers. Each time they passed an item which had been thrown from the wagon in its tumbling descent, they were reminded of the tragedy they were likely to find at the bottom of the ravine. Finally they came upon the scattered ruins of the wagon and its contents. Furniture, clothes, tools and people were scattered in every direction. One oxen lay dead, its neck twisted at a crazy angle. Shinonn felt like crying when she heard the report of a gunshot as another poor creature was put out of its pain. But the full tragedy lay beneath the rubble of the wagon and its contests. Maud Miller and the two youngest children, Sadie and David, had all been sitting together on the driver’s seat of the wagon while George Miller and the oldest boy, Adam, led the oxen from below. When the wagon rolled down the slope, the woman and young children had been crushed to death by hundreds of pounds of debris as it tumbled over them. Although George Miller had been clear of the wagon, he suffered a broken leg as he was pulled along by the falling ox. As he struggled to gain a foothold in the mud, the huge animal crashed him against a tree, pinning him at his chest. As she listened to his labored breathing, Shinonn was sure he had suffered internal injuries as well as the broken leg. The only member of the family left unhurt by the tragedy was ten year old Adam, who had miraculously escaped being hit by the wagon or its contents. Ed Peterson managed to find a meadow less than a mile up the track and the train sadly made camp. It was agreed that the trail was too dangerous to attempt to continue, and if the injured man was to have any chance to heal, he must remain unmoved for a few days. Sofie and Alex Santini insisted on taking charge of George Miller, while Etta and Horace took little Adam into their wagon. Unfortunately, there was no doctor traveling with the train, and there was scant chance of finding one soon, so Alex and Ed Peterson were forced to set George’s broken leg as best they could. His pain was so great from his chest injury that he scarcely noted the additional agony of the crudely set let. Sofie did all she could to ease the poor man’s suffering with the only pain killer available, a poor quality whiskey, which she allowed him to have whenever he asked. As that dreadful night deepened, both George Miller and Sofie knew he would not see the coming dawn. She held him in her arms while he coughed up streams of blood. The agony was finally over shortly past midnight. Sofie sat with his still body for a few moments, holding his hand in hers, before she crawled out of the wagon and whispered to Alex that George Miller had joined his wife and children. Then she sat upon a stool and cried silent tears while Alex cradled her head

in his arms.

Chapter 6

The prayer service was brief, hardly a suitable tribute for the ill-fated Miller family, but the wagon train must resume its journey westward. They had already lost two days due to the storm and the tragic accident, they couldn’t afford the luxury of losing any more. Shinonn was the last to turn away from the four graves. Lost in her memories, she was startled to feel the heavy weight of Horace Carter’s arm settle on her shoulders. "I guess those graves make you think of the kin you buried before you joined up with us." Blinking back sudden tears, she nodded mutely. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, son, but I won’t lie to you. Burying folks never does get easy. That is, not unless you turn into a hard man, too hard to care, and you don’t want that." Swiping the tears away with the back of her hand, she smiled up into the caring man’s face. "We best be on our way, Mr. Carter. We don’t want ol’ Ed Peterson bawling us out!" A couple of days later Shinonn began to notice that the mountains were becoming easier to traverse, that the grades over the passes were not so steep. Though the change was gradual, each day it became more apparent that they would be putting the Rockies behind them soon. Excited rumors began to circulate, "In just a few more days we’ll be at Sublette Cutoff." "Soon we’ll be splitting up, us for Oregon, you and the misses for California." Responding to the excitement, Shinonn’s spirits soared. Before long, everyone on the train found themselves in a seemingly endless debate. Those bound for Oregon must decide if they should risk fifty miles of grueling dessert, or take the longer, but safer route through Fort Bridge. The Sublette Cutoff offered a savings of seven full days of travel, but it was strew with the bones of oxen and cattle ravished by intense heat and lack of water. The question that must be answered was, was the shortcut worth risk? The Oregon bound unit finally opted on the shorter, more dangerous trail. Shinonn fought tears as she said her farewells to the Carter’s and Adam Miller, knowing the dangers they faced. Though she had known the Carters a few scant months, they had come to mean so much to her. She prayed that they hadn’t made a deadly decision to take the cutoff. A tight knot formed in her gut as she watched their wagon disappear from sight. So much could happen between here and Oregon. Maybe she should have gone with them, see them safely in Oregon, and then make her way back down to California. But then she gave herself a mental shake. They didn’t need her. With twenty-one of the wagons from the original train heading toward Oregon, plus the continued leadership of Ed Peterson, they would be fine. She’d do better worrying about herself instead of wasting time worrying where it wasn’t needed.

After the Oregon contingent had left, the men from the remaining wagons gathered together to choose a new wagon master. It was a short meeting, little more than a confirmation of Pete Scruggins, a well seasoned, much traveled cowboy. A couple of the men suggested minor changes to the trail laws, all of which were voted on and accepted. Then they were back on the trail to Fort Bridger, having lost less than an hour. Several days before they reached the Sublette Cutoff, Sofie and Alex Santini had approached Shinonn about joining up with them. She accepted their offer gratefully. Oregon had no hold on her; no mystical eyes, no softly rasping voice beckoned her from there. While she had been made to feel a part of the Carter family, more like a younger brother than a hired hand, the Santinis treated her as a friend. No longer subservient in the role of employee, or even an adopted member of the family, she enjoyed being treated as an equal. From the very beginning she felt totally at ease with both of them. She still felt that they were an unlikely wedded pair, but their uniqueness only made them more likable to her. In the evenings, as the three sat companionably beside their fire, they discussed the lives they looked forward to in California. But when Alex spoke of working in the gold fields, Shinonn could scarcely imagine the small, urban man in such a setting. "Maybe we could go partners in a claim, Tim," Alex suggested. "Why, between the two of us. I fathom we could make our fortunes in a couple of months if we put our minds to it." "I can’t think of anyone I’d rather partner up with. Only, well, I haven’t exactly decided that I’m going to be prospecting. I haven’t really made up my mind just what I’m going to do when I get out west. Mostly, I just want to get there, you know what I mean?" She hadn’t fully admitted, even to herself, that the only gold she was looking for was the gilded glint in a certain gambler’s eyes. "Oh, he knows what you mean, all right," Sofie spoke up. "All that talk about prospecting - talk is all it is, honey. Face it, Alex, working a pick and shovel would just about kill you. From what I hear, there’s lots easier ways to make a living in the gold fields than scrabbling in the dirt." Alex glanced at Sofie, a strange expression in his eyes. It was almost as if his eyes were warning her not to say more than she should. The look was answered by Sofie’s understanding smile. She said no more. At Fort Bridger the wagoners replenished their supplies and traded their tired oxen for rested ones. Besides the much needed supplies, the best part of the fort to Shinonn’s way of thinking, was the owner, Jim Bridger. Bridger, an old mountain man, had built and stocked the fort himself. Although he was kept plenty busy maintaining his stock, he could usually be enticed into spending an evening sitting beside a campfire, entertaining his audiences with stories of his many adventures. His craggy, rough appearance added authenticity of his often wild tales. From Fort Bridger the train headed northwest, into Utah territory. Now the dessert terrain became their enemy, and they were in constant fear of further confrontations with Indians. No one had to be reminded of the constant need for speed; all were more than aware that they must reach the Sierra Nevadas before the first snow. But more than that, they were all anxious to put the dessert behind them.

The vast solitude of the terrain drew Shinonn, Alex and Sofie even closer. They worked as a team, and at times even thought as a team. Often Shinonn found herself reaching for something to hand to Sofie before the woman asked for it. And the same was true for Alex and Shinonn. The unspoken understanding between the three became uncanny. She came really care about the Santinis, so much so that she began to experience a terrible guilt about how she was deceiving them. What would they think of her if they ever found out she was not who she pretended to be? Would they ever be able to forgive her? The need to clear her conscience, to tell the truth about her identity, grew to unbearable proportions. But still she held her tongue. They were weeks away from California and she needed the Santini’s protection and friendship too much to chance loosing them. *** It was early September when the Santini wagon pulled into Placerville, California. The gold rush town was a melee of makeshift buildings strewn along a twisting, turning road that had once been a pack-mule trail. The litter of thousands of miners lay scattered haphazardly along the road. Worn out boots lay alongside broken pots and pans. Empty oyster and sardine tins shared the dirt with discarded bottles. The widely scattered trash gave strong evidence that mining gold was all that mattered to these people. They cared nothing for civic pride, nor any of the accouterments associated with a civilized society. As Sofie, Alex and Shinonn trudged the length of the town, looking for a quiet meadow where they could make camp, Shinonn felt dazzled with the realization that she had finally reached the famed gold diggings she had been seeking for so very long. Her mind reeled with the reality of it all. What was she to do now? Searching every gambling house from here to the Oregon border for Lincoln Bradley was not really practical. Maybe she should she buy a pan and shovel and begin digging. But where should she stake her claim? She had no idea what to do or where to go. Finally, finding an empty spot of ground on the outskirts of town, they pulled off to set up camp. "Let’s have ourselves a cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Then we can take a stroll around town and see just exactly what we’ve gotten ourselves into," Sofie suggested. "Come on, Tim, pull yourself up a stool and join us. The three of us have some plans to make." "As a matter of fact, Tim, Sofie and I have more than our plans to discuss with you," Alex spoke, his town unusually somber. "We have a confession to make, and along with it an apology to you." Alex’s tone of voice caught Shinonn’s attention immediately. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. "For reasons we hope you will understand, Sofie and I felt forced to enter into a bit of a deception when we joined the wagon train. The truth of it is, Sofie and I have never been married, and we didn’t come west to go gold panning." "At least not in the usual way," Sofie added with a soft chuckle. "We’ll be doing our ‘mining’ from a saloon and pleasure house, rather than digging in the dirt with our hands." "If we had been truthful at the start, those good, self-righteous wagon train folks would have run us right

out of St. Joseph. We knew no wagon master would have allowed the likes of us to travel with them, so we decided to tell them what they would rather hear." "We sure hope you don’t hold it against us, Tim. You’ve come to mean so much to us these past months, we’d hate to lose your friendship," Sofie added. Shinonn took a deep lung full of the brisk mountain air, then exhaled it slowly. Feelings of relief and trepidation battled within her. They’d been honest with her, now it was time to return their respect. Bracing herself for the worst, she faced them. "As long as we’re making confessions here, I guess I’d better get mine in too." Although she was trembling inside, ashamed and afraid at the same time, Shinonn knew she must be as honest with Sofie and Alex as they had been with her. "My name isn’t Tim O’Brien. It’s really Shinonn Flannery." "What?" Sofie exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock. "I decided when I left home that I would be safer traveling as a boy than as a woman. I knew, just the same as you did, that if Ed Peterson knew who I really was, he’d never allow me on his train. I guess we’re all kind of in the same boat." Relief swept over her when instead of reacting in anger, both Sofie and Alex hooted with laughter at her confession. "Who would have guessed that me, of all women, could have fallen for your trick?" Sofie laughed so hard she could barely speak. "Careful, my dear, you wouldn’t want to lose your golden touch with men, would you?" Alex teased. But when Sofie finally was able to control her laughter, he turned a serious face to Shinonn. "Tim, oops, sorry. I guess it will take me a while before I can think of you as ‘Shinonn’, but what I was going to say was, I think you might consider keeping up your little charade as long as you’re out here in the gold fields. If you should decide to stay with us, unless you want to engage in Sofie’s line of work, you'd be better off if everyone in town thought of you as a boy. "Something tells me you’re not the type of girl who would want to work one of my cribs, Shinonn. Actually, Alex and I thought you might want to help him in the saloon. We could use a boy to help keep the place clean and restock the bar. If you’re not too put off by our wicked ways, the offer’s still open. As far as we’re concerned, you can be whoever or whatever you want to be - Tim or Shinonn, it makes no difference to us." "I don’t know what I want to do yet, Sofie. To tell you the truth, I’m not rightly sure why it is I came all the way out here to California. After my mother died, well, California just seemed like a good place to be. And I thought I might run into my brother Patrick out here, but I really don’t have any idea where he is." She evaded telling them about Lincoln Bradley. Heck, she hated admitting even to herself that in truth she had just traveled thousands of miles just to look once again into his eyes, hoping to see that special look she had seen there so many years ago.

"You mean to tell us you came all the way out here looking for your brother, and you don’t even know where he is? That seems a mite drastic," Alex said. "If I find him or not isn’t all that important. I guess I’d like to see him again, but all he ever meant to me at home was trouble. But since he’s my only living kin, I suppose I should try to find him. But still and all, he can be more than a handful, if you know what I mean." "But other than your brother, there’s no one else?" Sofie asked gently. With Sofie looking like her like that, so friendly and all, Shinonn couldn’t stop herself from speaking words she had kept hidden within herself for over five years. "Well, there was this man I’d sort of like to see again... kind of a special man. I’m not sure where he is, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find him in a gambling hall in one of the gold camps. "Oh, I’m being a fool again. He’s nothing to me. No, you two are all I’ve got now, so, if you still want me to help out, I guess I’m your man," she laughed as she reached out to shake Alex’s outstretched hand. "Well, if you’re going to keep on being Tim, I’d suggest another hair cut," Sofie laughed with her. "And a new pair of britches and a couple more of those loose fitting shirts!" Alex added. Within days they had set up a tent, brought out the whiskey and beer and were in business. "This set-up is just temporary, of course," Sofie explained to Shinonn. "But until we’re sure we’ll be staying, this will do just fine." Their establishment consisted of a strange, multi-roomed tent. The main room was where Alex ran his saloon. Rough planks of wood, balanced between two whiskey barrels, served as the bar. Out of their wagon they produced two tables, with chairs for each table. Standing beside the bar was Sofie’s ornately carved upright piano. Along the back of the tent, opposite the bar, were three tiny, curtained rooms. These were the cribs where Sofie’s "girls" would work. "A girl’s got to make money somehow," she explained to Shinonn with a shrug. "These miners get lonely for their sweethearts back home. My girls and I just do our best to make them happy for awhile." "You don’t owe me any explanations, Sofie. That kind of work’s not for me, but I’m not about to criticize you. Still, it’s hard to imagine how you ever came to be in such a business." "You might say I came by it honestly," she chuckled ruefully. "As a matter of fact, I’m only carrying on the family business. My mother, Ada Gunderson, was one of the most famous madams in New Orleans. Oh, I never knew what she did for a living when I was young (she put me in boarding school as soon as I was old enough), but when I turned eighteen she sent Alex to bring me home and I soon learned how she earned her money." "It must have come as a terrible shock." "Oh, honey, did it ever! I took it real hard at first, hating the very sight of my poor mother. Then Alex sat me down and had a long heart-to-heart talk with me. Poor Alex, he was more in love with my mother

than any man ought to be. He worshipped the ground she walked on. He tried to make me understand, but I still resented who and what my mother was. "Then she took sick, and before long I knew she was dying. I couldn’t let her die with the hard feelings still between us, so I did everything I could to bury them. "After she died I was stuck with her house and all the girls who worked there. I couldn’t just turn them out in the streets, so, with Alex’s help, I kept the place going. "Alex was wonderful. I never could have managed without his help and advice. I’ll never know who my real father was, but in my heart I’ve chosen Alex. He’s more father than most girls could ever hope for." "Why did you leave all that to come to California?" "A few years after my mother’s death, I came to see that as long as we lived in New Orleans Alex would never get over her. Everything reminded him of her. So, I sold the house to one of the girls and come out here with the idea of starting over. "Trouble is, the only business Alex and I know is that of selling pleasure. Luckily, we do it very well! You can bet everything you own I’ll have the cleanest, most refined ladies this town has to offer. And Alex runs an honest bar." Shinonn walked over to one of the cribs and pulled the curtain aside. "You’ve got it fixed up real nice, Sofie. I’ve never seen rugs like those before." Each cubicle was outfitted with a brass bed covered with a colorful, thick quilt. Beside it stood a chair and a night stand with a pitcher and bowl. A vase filled with fresh wild flowers decorated each dresser. On the floor beside each bed Sofie had placed colorful Arabian Rugs. Although her "house" was made of canvas, she managed to make it attractive and inviting for her "guests." "I’ll never hire a tramp to work a crib, and I’ll not expect my girls to work in any but the best available surroundings. As soon as we get ourselves established we’ll be building us a proper house. Until then, we’ll just have to make the best of what we have." "It’s real nice, Sofie." "Now comes the hard part, recruiting the girls. As I said, I won’t stand for any girl who doesn’t show some class. We want our establishment to be known for its refined tastes. I only want decent men in here, and decent men want decent women for their entertainment." Within a few days Sofie had collected three "fallen doves" from among Placerville’s bawdy houses. Her offer of better pay and fewer hours were appreciated by all the girls. And when they saw the spotless linens on the beds, and the attractive furniture in the rooms, they were all certain they had made the right choice. Business was brisk from the first day they were open. Alex poured an honest drink and allowed no rough housing from the men. His quiet, gentle personality set the tone for the saloon, and it soon became the favorite drinking and sporting emporium in town. Sofie’s warm good humor charmed the men and girls alike. Every night was one rousing party after

another with Sofie playing the piano while couples danced together in the tiny space between bar and cribs. She knew dozens of slow, songs which helped to keep the business in the curtained cubicles brisk. Although Shinonn found working for Alex and Sofie to be pleasant enough, she soon found herself growing restless. While her friends were used to working nights and sleeping late into the morning, she found it impossible to lie in bed after the sun had risen. So one day she went to the hardware store and purchased a few miner’s tools. It wasn’t easy to find a spot not already claimed, but at last she found a location which all the others had passed by. She soon discovered why no one else wanted to work the claim. It was about the poorest dirt in California, but she didn’t mind. The panning gave her something to do with her spare time and also enabled her to perfect the skills she would need if she ever decided to prospect in earnest. On a good day, after several hours of hard work, if she was extremely lucky, she might pan out one or two ounces of the precious metal. On most days she was lucky to find any color at all. "The more you work that crazy claim of yours, the more you look like one of the boys who come in here," Alex commented after Shinonn had been working her claim for a couple of weeks. "Next thing we know, you’ll be taking off like the rest of them, heading for better diggings." "I just might, Alex. You know I never did mean to stay here in Placerville forever. I’m still looking for something. What that something is I don’t rightly know, but I got to keep looking just the same." "You’ll know it when you find it. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders for someone so young. I just hope you’ll be satisfied when you find that dream of yours. There’s some folks who walk right past their dreams, not recognizing them when they see them. When you find your dream, you grab hold of it and never let go, hear me? Never let go." "The only thing is, Alex, I don’t think I’m going to find it here working in the saloon." "We know that, Shinonn. Sofie and I were talking about you just this morning. She said she felt you’d be leaving us soon. We’ve both noticed how restless you’ve gotten lately. I suppose we always knew you would be traveling on someday." "Yeah, it’s getting onto that time, all right. You don’t know what a relief talking to you has been. There’s nothing in the world I’d hate more than hurting either one of you. I’ve been trying for days now to figure out how I was going to tell you I was going." "Don’t waste another minute worrying about it, son, I mean, Shinonn. Darned if I can remember that you’re not a scruffy lad, you play the role so well! But just you remember, we want nothing but the best for you. And if you ever find yourself this way again, you know you’ll always have a couple of friends here waiting for you." With misty eyes, Shinonn gave Alex a big hug. "Ill miss you, Alex." "I know, I know. But you must do what’s right for you, and both of us know the bordello and saloon business isn’t it."

When told of Shinonn’s decision to leave Placerville, Sofie startled her by saying, "You’ve got to find that man, don’t you?" she asked softly. "What man are you talking about?" "Oh, you know who I mean. That man you said you would like to run into some day. You were cool enough when you mentioned him, but I saw that look in your eyes. He’s someone special, someone you can’t get out of your system. Believe me, I’ve seen that look in too many girl’s eyes to have misunderstood it. He’s like an itch you just can’t reach. You can’t forget him, no matter how hard you try." "Don’t be daft! It’s not like that at all. He’s just a gambler I met a long time ago - I was just a kid. He doesn’t really mean anything to me at all. And I don’t even know if he’s here in California. I just thought he might be, seeing as how so many gamblers have flocked here. And even if he was standing right here in front of me, why, I don’t know that I’d want to have anything to do with him. By all rights I should hate him." "But you don’t, do you? You still want to see him, to see if he still makes you feel the same way." "I guess you’re right." Shinonn’s voice lost its defensive tone. "I must be the biggest fool alive. I have reasons for wanting to see him dead, but I just can’t hate him. I never have been able to." "There’s only one way to settle your mind, baby girl. You go out and you find that man. And when you find him, if you need a friend’s shoulder to cry on, you come on back to old Sofie, you hear now?"

Chapter 7

Alex and Sofie were barely awake when they came out to bid Shinonn farewell, though the sun stood high in the sky. While her friends slept, she had been busy packing her tools, clothing and provisions. Now, her horses packed and ready to go, all that was left was to say her final farewells and be on her way. "You be sure and let us hear when you strike it rich," Alex grinned as he shook Shinonn’s hand firmly. "You’ll hear about it all right. I’ll be hollering so loud, everyone from Oregon to Mexico will hear me." "Here’s a little going away present, honey. I hear gold attracts gold; maybe this twenty dollar gold piece will bring you luck." Tears stung Shinonn’s eyes as she accepted Sofie’s gift. "I’ll never forget you two." "You better not! Here, you put the coin in this little silk bag I made for you. Wear it around your neck for luck. Tuck it inside your shirt so you won’t lose it." "I’ll think of you every time I touch it, Sofie. And if gold does attract gold, I’ll be rich as a skunk in no time, all thanks to you."

"Now you be careful, honey. And don’t let your guard down. If those miners ever find out your little secret, you’ll be in more trouble than the law allows. They might not take kindly to being made fools of, so you be careful." "Sofie knows what she’s talking about. Men can be rough with a woman who’s all alone, especially out here with women so scarce. I’d hate to think of how they might treat you if they ever found out who you really are." "I’ll be careful, I promise. And when the time comes to stop being Tim O’Brien, well, I’ll get out of these mountains and go someplace where I can be Shinonn Flannery in safety. I’m sure that day will come along, but until then, I promise to keep my guard up. "Now you two go on back and get some breakfast; you look awful! And I can’t stand around here talking all day. I’ve got to find that Mother Lode!" *** Actually, Shinonn spent as much time in the following weeks searching for her brother as she did looking for gold. At every town she came to, every spot along the river where men gathered to dig for gold, she found herself peering intently at each tall, heavily muscled, dark-haired young man she saw. She went from saloon to saloon looking for him, describing him to everyone she met. Knowing Patrick, she figured she would be more apt to find him in a saloon than working a claim. From her own experience she knew that placer mining was back breaking work. Patrick Flannery had never had a leaning toward manual labor. She told herself that she only went into the saloons to look for her brother, but she found her eyes uncontrollably drawn to the gaming tables. She wouldn’t admit, even to herself, that she was far more interested in seeing Lincoln Bradley’s mysterious, steel gray eyes, and to hear his softly rasping voice of than she was in finding her brother. She saw hundreds of men during her wanderings, but not once did any of them catch at her heart the way Lincoln Bradley had so many years before. Finally, after weeks of traipsing from camp to camp, realizing her search for both Patrick and her mysterious gambler was useless, she gave up the search and staked out a claim near the small camp of kicking Mule. It was a fairly new camp, with plenty of unclaimed land still available. She found a spot along the river that was secluded, yet close enough to the tiny mining town so that she could replenish her provisions with relative ease. Her first priority was to build a shanty to protect herself from the elements. She had been fortunate that the winter had been mild so far, but she knew the weather could change in less than a heart beat in these mountains. Using scraps of wood, and just about anything else she could get her hands on, she managed to build a one room house. It was little more than a shed but provided her with a place for a bed, a makeshift stove, and a couple of wooden boxes which served as cupboards, chair and table. Although it was just barely habitable, it was her own and she was happy with it. No longer exposed to the elements, she felt as if she were living in luxury. The miners working claims at Kicking Mule were on the whole an industrious bunch. It was too small a

camp to attract much of the usual hanger’s-on who gravitated to the more prosperous diggings; the tin horn gamblers, the slick confidence men and the usual assortment of sporting girls. True, there was a small saloon and gambling hall, but if a prospector was in search of feminine companionship he would have to travel on down the road to Whiskey Town to find it. And if he was in the mind for a game of cards, he would more than likely find other miners to play with rather than a professional gambler. *** "Hey there! How’s it going, partner?" Shinonn looked up to see a miner strolling up-stream toward her. "Found the Mother Lode yet?" "Not so’s you’d notice. You might say, ‘I’ve seen the elephant’, but it’s a mighty small critter," she replied ruefully, referring to the miner’s expression of seeing the elephant when gold is first discovered. "Don’t give up yet, boy. There’s gold along this stream, it just don’t jump out and find you. You got to give it plenty of sweat first." "I’ve got the sweat, now I just need a little luck." "When you get tired of your own company, come on down to what we laughingly refer to as town around here and join us in a game or two of cards. Most of us are too tired to be very frisky most nights, but we usually get together for a game or two on Sundays." "Thanks for the offer. I may just take you up on it," she replied, reaching down for her shovel as she prepared to get back to work. "By the way, my name is Tom...Tom Salverton. Me and my brother Ed have the claim just down river." "Nice to meet you, Tom. Tim O’Brian’s the name." She shifted her shovel into her left hand so she could shake Tom’s proffered hand. She shook it firmly, glad that the hard work of the last several months had covered her hands with hard calluses. She had always longed for the soft feminine hands of the pampered housewives she had envied so long ago. How quickly her disguise would have been discovered had her dreams of a softer life been realized! "Thanks for coming by. I’m not much of a card player, but it sure does get lonely up here sometimes. Maybe I’ll be seeing you in town come Sunday." After Tom Salverton left, Shinonn returned to the back breaking work of shoveling gravel into her cradle. Wisdom told her she should avoid becoming too involved with the other miners, but Tom’s invitation brought to the surface a deadening loneliness she had been fighting for weeks. Did she dare take the risk of exposing herself to curious eyes? Her mind whirled with the possibilities, both pleasant and unpleasant as her body continued working. She spent over an hour pouring shovel-full after shovel-full of gravel into the crudely built device. After several shovels full were emptied into the cradle, she grabbed its handle with both hands and rocked it as hard as she could while water from the fast moving stream ran across the dirt. When all of the loose gravel was washed out of the cradle, she carefully removed several good sized nuggets that lay on the

bottom. Then she took her flat miner’s pan and began to pan out the gravel that lay along the riffles, on the bottom of the cradle. After again sloshing the water and gravel thoroughly, she carefully removed the tiny gold nuggets which lay on the bottom of the pan. She dropped them into a leather pouch she kept tied to her waist. Then she began to gently swirl the last bit of black grit, looking for even the tiniest flake of shining metal. Most prospectors were satisfied to save only the nuggets and throw the smaller flakes back into the river. Not Shinonn. Although it was not nearly as exciting to find the tiny pieces of gold lying in the bottom of the pan, after time the minuscule flakes added up and the price for gold was in weight, not form. Checking the Mason jar in which she stored the tiny flakes, she was amazed to see how quickly the level of gold had risen. At the end of each day she placed most of the gold flakes in her Mason jar, reserving a small amount which she put in a second jar. She took the gold nuggets and did likewise, putting most of them in one jar, a smaller amount in a second. When she finished dividing the gold, she carefully hid the jars with the smaller amounts beneath a loose board of the cabin’s floor, figuring that the hiding spot would almost certainly be found by anyone who came into the cabin intent on stealing gold. She then placed the bulk of the gold in a hole which she had dug beneath the floor of the cabin, under her mattress. Although she hadn’t heard of anyone in Kicking Mule having his poke stolen, she knew only too well that any gold camp was ripe pickings to the dishonest. She only hoped that the smaller jars of gold would satisfy any thieves, should they come to her cabin. "Can we count you in on a poker game tomorrow?" Tom Salverton called to her the next Saturday evening just as dusk began to settle in. "We could use some new blood in the game." "I might come by to watch for awhile. It would sure be good to hear someone else’s voice beside my own." "Yeah, I know what you mean. When me and Ed first started prospectin’, we didn’t want to stop to eat, we were so full of gold fever. We worked seven days a week, from sun up to sun down. But after a while you begin to realize that the gold you don’t dig out today will still be there tomorrow. Six days a week is plenty of work; a body needs a rest." "I’ve just about come to that conclusion myself. I need to clean up around the place and wash some clothes, then I’ll probably wander into town and see what’s going on. I might see you and Ed later." *** As she picked her way along the stream toward Kicking Mule the next day, Shinonn saw that she wasn’t the only miner doing her washing that day. All along the shore of the river she encountered shirts, trousers, long-johns and socks spread out on rocks and draped across bushes to dry in the mid-day sun. Although it was late in the year, and the air was crisply cool, the sun shone brightly. It was a good day to wash and a good day to rest. Sounds of revelry rode the currents of the thin mountain air, reaching out to Shinonn as she approached the small mining town. From one tent she heard a harmonica, soft and soulful. From another came the voices of miners in deep discussion about the price of gold. She passed several men who were discussing stories they had heard about a strike further up stream.

"I heard tale that they’re taking a full cup of gold out in one hour’s digging up at Critter’s Creek." "Yeah, I head that one too. Only, when I heart it, they was talking about this camp right here. So far, I ain’t found but a couple of cups of gold all told and I been working my claim for two weeks." "Old man Adams, has the claim just up from mine, he found a nugget the size of your fist. He ain’t found much else, but that sure was one purty nugget." "One purty nugget ain’t enough for me. I figure I’ll go take a look at that new strike. I been itching to try my luck up at Critter’s Creek anyway. That creek looks the sort of place where a feller can find gold. Everything about it is just right for gold." "Ain’t you learned nothing yet? Gold ain’t where it’s supposed to be; gold is where, ... well, it’s where it’s at!" Shinonn passed the gossiping miners and continued onto the saloon. Since she didn’t drink liquor, she’d not previously had a reason to enter the building. Like so many of the structures in the gold country, it was a temporary affair made of canvas and the stray plank of wood. She found her neighbors Tom and Ed inside and about two dozen other miners. A couple of card games were going on while in a corner a grizzled old miner sawed away on a fiddle. The tune the old man played was unrecognizable but lively. Shinonn found her foot tapping to the rhythm of the music, "Draw up a stool and sit in on the game," Ed called to Shinonn across the room. "Hey, barkeep, let’s get this boy a beer." "No thanks, Ed. Like I said, I don’t play much cards. But I would like to watch if no one minds. Maybe I could learn how if I watch long enough." She turned to the barkeeper and changed the order to a sarsaparilla. "I never did have a taste for beer or whiskey," she explained. Just the thought of whiskey reminded her of all the misery her family had suffered because of hard liquor, but she wasn’t about to elaborate on her past life with anyone at Kicking Mule. Taking her bottle of sarsaparilla with her, she pulled up a stool and began watching the play. Because of her father’s disastrous history with cards, she had always studiously avoided any contact with them. But today, for some unexplainable reason, she found herself fascinated by the game. Hours passed unnoticed as she watched the players. At first none of it made sense to her, but gradually she began to understand the basic rules of the game. As time passed she began to learn the relative value of each hand. She watched the players, how they handled their cards, moved restlessly in their seats, their eyes shifting from their cards to check the expressions on the other players’ faces. Her attention was drawn again and again to one particular player. She had noticed the man before when she had come into town to buy supplies. Something about him, not just his appearance but more his attitude, repelled her. She sensed a streak of dishonesty in him. The other men in the saloon appeared to accept him completely, but Shinonn felt herself drawing sway from his proffered friendship. Never showing her feelings, (she had learned long ago keep her thoughts to herself), she vowed to keep a watchful eye on the man.

So intent was she on watching the game, she was shocked when Tom stood, stretched his arms broadly and announced that it was time for him and his brother to cash in their chips. Hours had passed since she had sat down to watch, hours when she had barely moved or spoken a single word. Being the only sober one in the trio, she carried the lantern for Tom and Ed as the three of them made their way back to their camps. "How’d you manage to stay awake through all that?," Ed asked her as they trudged along the river. "Sitting there for hours, not saying so much as one word, not even drinking a beer all night, that couldn’t a been much fun for you." "But it was. I could have watched you play all night. I never knew how interesting a card game could be." "Why don’t you sit in on the next game, if you liked it so much?" Tom suggested. "There’s always room for one more." "Someday. I want to watch a few more times, until I’m sure I’ve got it down right. By the way, how well do you know that feller, Butch? There’s something about him that hits me wrong." "Butch! Oh, he’s all right. He’s just one of the boys. I guess he’s been in town for a couple of weeks now, working a claim up there in Winter’s Canyon." "He may be all right, but just the same, I think I’ll be keeping an eye on him." Shinonn joined the Salverton brothers in the saloon again the next Sunday. Again she sat back from the table, observing each play and each player’s mannerisms. Again the time flew by as she absorbed more and more of the details of the game. She came to know intuitively which players had good hands and which were only pretending. She noticed that time and time again Butch won the larger ports, seldom taking smaller ones. The more she watched him, the more she wondered if he might be cheating. No one had that much luck. Then, on the fourth Sunday she came to town, Butch failed to show up for the usual game. Few comments were made of his absence as it was not unusual for a miner to choose to stay at his claim on any particular Sunday. In fact, Shinonn appeared to be the only one in the saloon who paid his absence any notice. All evening she felt uneasy, anxious to get back to her cabin. Would it be as she left it? Had she hidden her gold carefully enough? Finally the game was over and the three neighbors once again walked to their claims together. Before they reached their cabins, however, a miner from further up the stream came bounding down the hill toward them. "I been robbed! Every bit of gold I had at my place was taken!" The brothers and Shinonn exchanged quick glances. So I was right all along, she thought to herself as they began to run toward their own claims. They reached the Salverton’s cabin first. When they stepped inside the one room shack they could see

that they too had been victims. Their belongings lay scattered in every direction. Three empty glass jars lay on the beds where they had been hastily tossed, their lids lay scattered across the floor. "Looks like he got it all," Ed said after making a cursory inspection. "All three jars of dust and the pouch of nuggets we’ve been saving for more’n two months." "Come on, Tim. We’ll go up to your place and see how you made out. Then we’re going back to town and get up a posse. The bastard’s not going to get away with this." Shinonn’s cabin was in shambles. Flour was scattered everywhere, the bag having been cut from top to bottom. Obviously the thief figured she might have stuffed her gold down into the flour for safe keeping. Her make-shift table and chairs lay on their sides. Even her cook stove had been turned up-side-down. Planks of the flooring had been stripped up and were thrown to one side. She looked down into the hole where just yesterday afternoon she had placed the partially full Mason jars. Of course they were gone. But, wonders of all wonders, her bed remained untouched. Apparently Butch, or whoever the thief had been, had fallen for her trick. She joined the other men from Kicking Mule in a futile search for Butch. Shinonn felt for heat from the stove in his cabin and, finding it totally cold, drew the conclusion that he had not been around for several hours. As the men gathered, it was learned that several other cabins had also been pillaged. Word of Butch’s thievery quickly spread up and down the river, and in less than two days he was found camping in a dry gulch not far from North San Juan. A party of self appointed "deputies" left Kicking Mule early the next morning vowing to return that night with the thief. It was on that night that Shinonn witnessed her first lynching. *** "The game is five card stud, deuces and one-eyed Jacks wild, Jacks or better to open, boys." The dealer was a prospector who had shown up in town the day before. "Although why I bother playing this game is beyond me. A fellow up in Downieville nearly cleaned me out the last time I played it." "That’s what you get for playing with those slick card sharks," one of the men at the table commented. "You probably got yourself in a game with a cheater." "No, that’s just the trouble, I’d bet what money I have left that he was on the up and up. He’s just one hell of a card player. I watched him like a hawk and never once saw him make one move that was out of line. No, he just knows his cards and plays the odds better than any man I’ve ever seen." "Who is he? If he ever shows up around here, I’d like to know what I’m up against." "Bradley, was his name. Lincoln Bradley." Shinonn felt as if she had been shot. Her heart was racing wildly as she willed herself to maintain an outer calm. Using all of her will power, she forced herself to remain silent. There was time enough to ask the stranger all the questions which were racing through her mind. How long ago had he been in Downieville? And where the heck was the place, anyway? She had never even heard of the town before. But the most important question of all was one only she knew the answer to - did she really want to see him again? Was she crazy to want to meet up with the man who killed her father?

Chapter 8

Although the weather remained unseasonably warm for November, the steep, twisting road to Downieville and the thinning air of the higher elevation took their toll on Shinonn and her horses. She had anticipated the journey would take no more than three days, but it ended up taking nearly a week for her to reach the crest that looked down on the town. From that point she could see where two rivers joined in the center of the town, giving it it’s original name, The Forks. She sucked in her breath with wonder as she gazed at the village below. She had not imagined that here, so many miles from any other diggings of any consequence, she would find such a large, thriving town. Miner’s shacks spread away from the center of town in every direction, nearly filling the narrow valley below. Crowded along the two twisting rivers that met in the center of town were numerous buildings, apparently both homes and businesses. "Well, here I am," she said aloud to the town spread below her as she dismounted and stretched her aching muscles. Her words rang out in the clear, thin air. "Mr. Lincoln Bradley, are you still down there? And if you are, just what the heck do you propose I do about it? Do I just walk right up to you and say, ‘Hello there, Mr. Bradley, remember me? I’m the girl whose father you shot six years ago." Oh, I’m sure that would catch your attention, Mr. Bradley! I wonder what you’d think if you found out I’ve been looking all over California for you. Hunkering down on her haunches, Shinonn leveled her gaze to the valley, but the scene below faded from her sight. Instead of seeing the picturesque scene spread before her, she looked instead into the very depths of her own soul. What if he really was down there? What good would that do her? A man like that was used to real women, not someone like her. She felt a tight knot form in her stomach as she realized that she didn’t have a clue how to be a real woman. What do I know about how real women think and behave, she asked herself. Even before she buried her old life back in that dusty prairie town, she had never really lived like other girls. She had never had a girl friend to talk to, never been in a decent house where "normal" people lived. Her family never lived like regular folks. So how was she supposed to know how people like that lived? Just look at me, more man than woman, she stood, spreading her arms, exposing herself for the world to see what she had become. I’ve lived like a man all my life. I haven’t the slightest idea how a woman attracts a man, how she gets him to see her in that special way. I’m just a joke - a very bad joke. Hot tears stung her eyes, then tumbled unchecked down her cheeks. They were tears of frustration, of fear, and most especially, of loneliness. Deprived of the natural love she should have received from her family, Shinonn had never allowed herself to even consider that others could fill the empty void she felt in her soul. What could anyone possibly see in her to love? And if a man ever did fall in love with her, would she have any idea of how to return his love? Oh, life was so unfair! Why must she be destined to search for the unattainable? Why couldn’t she be like other women?

Grady was probably right; I am crazy, she thought as she turned to her mount. A sane woman would have accepted his offer of marriage and lived with him quietly for the rest of her life. But not me! Oh, no, I had to be different. I had to go off in search of God knows what. Which brought her right back to where she started, standing on top of a mountain without a clue as to where her life was heading or why. She kicked at a stone as she walked back to her horses. Climbing onto the saddle, she cast one last look at the panorama below. "Downieville, here comes Shinonn Flannery, otherwise known as Tim O’Brien. I hope the hell you’re ready!" *** "That’ll be five dollars and twenty-five cents, young man." The proprietor of the general store handed Shinonn a tin of sardines, a pound of soda crackers and a couple of apples. Although it seemed to her that they were on the very edge of the remotest mountain wilderness, the elderly man behind the counter was dressed in a black vested suit, looking every bit as urbane as the clerks had in St. Joseph, Missouri. "Seems a might high, mister. Why, I’ve never paid more’n a dollar for a tin of sardines in my life." "Then you ain’t been buying them in the high country, I warrant. You new around here?" "Yes, sir, got in yesterday." "You must be crazy coming up here this late in the winter. Why, any day now that trail you just come up will be piled high with snow." "That might be, mister. Truth is, I’ve been called crazy before. I figured I’d get here before winter set in so I’d have myself a claim set up come spring." "Just about every square inch of dirt has already been spoken for around town. At least everything that shows the least bit of promise. The best thing for you to do would be to buy a claim, if you’ve got the money for it. Either that or go partners with one of the other fellers." "I don’t go much for partners. You wouldn’t know of anyone looking to sell out, would you?" "I do know of one miner who’s seen enough of the high country and was talking of selling out before the big snows come. He has a place up-river, up toward what’s left of Sierra City. He hasn’t made his fortune, but, from what I hear, the claim has shown some good color. He was telling me just yesterday about how’d he be out of here in a minute if he could find someone willing to buy him out. The snows are already late this year, so he might sell out pretty cheap just so’s he can get down the mountain in a hurry. "If you’re interested, I’ll get my boy here to look him up and find out if he was serious or just talking through his hat. I’ll let you know. Where you staying?" "I’ve got a room at the hotel across the road there. I’ll check back with you. Thanks for the help." "You may not be thanking me after you’ve wintered here. It takes a real man to survive in these parts."

We’ll see about that, Shinonn thought ruefully as she strolled back to the hotel. She passed several saloons as she walked up the road, but avoided looking through any of the swinging doors. She was acutely aware that Lincoln Bradley might be in any one of them but, as much as she longed to see him, fear proved to be the stronger emotion. She had arrived in town the previous afternoon, settled into her hotel room, bathed and treated herself to the biggest steak the hotel had to offer before returning to the room. With a pleasantly full stomach, she had laid her clean, naked body between the crispy sheets and been sound asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. She slept for twelve hours straight. *** Shinonn stood beside the banks of the north fork of the Yuba River, inspecting her prospective claim. A couple of miles up-river from Downieville, it nestled within a wide bend in the river. The beauty of her surroundings distracted her from examining the more practical aspects of the claim. The only blemish to the landscape was the ramshackle miner’s hut which had been built on a rise above the river. "I built the cabin up on that knoll ‘cuz this stream gets mighty wild come springtime. You’d be washed clean down the canyon if’n you set your house any closer. Other than that though, this is as good a place as any to do your panning." The man grated on Shinonn’s nerves. She’d be glad to give him his money and be rid of him. He had the most disgusting habit of clearing his throat and spitting after nearly every sentence. "I guess I wouldn’t be bothered much by neighbors way out here?" "Oh, there’s a few other miners around. Not nearly so many as they is closer to town, but where there’s gold, you’re not going to be the only one digging it out. By and large though, the men around these parts keep to themselves. We’ve got the ‘professor’ just above you, we call him that ‘cuz all he ever does besides work his claim is read his books. He must have a dozen of ‘em in his cabin. And just down the stream is old Clem. He pretty much keeps to himself, from what I seen. "Being honest with you, if you’re looking for companionship, this aint’ the spot for it. But if you want a fairly good claim and are willing to put up with the winters, well, this is what you’re looking for." Shinonn couldn’t think of a better arrangement - a beautiful and secluded location and a fairly profitable claim to boot. "Your price seems fair enough, and I do like what I see ... I’d say you’ve got yourself a deal," she smiled as she shook his hand. After a quick trip back to town to retrieve her personal possessions, Shinonn returned to her newly purchased home. When she had originally inspected the property she hadn’t bothered to look inside the cabin; no matter how bad it might be, she was certain she could make it inhabitable in time. On closer inspection she wasn’t so sure.

It took a moment or two for her eyes to become accustomed to the gloom within the one room shack, but when they did she almost wished they hadn’t. The windows were shuttered, but light streamed in through gaps in the boards which made up the walls and roof. Dirt filtered into the room through the holes, along with the light. She made a mental note to pick up some sheets of tin to cover the many holes. If she didn’t, she would surely freeze to death in the cold winter nights to come. A pig would refuse to live like this, she thought with disgust as she began the job of cleaning out the former occupant’s filth. Scattered about the room were empty food tins, yellowed newspapers and tattered clothes. Broad, uneven boards with knot holes big enough for a small animal to enter made up the floor. The broken chimney on the pot-bellied stove had been haphazardly patched with a flattened sardine tin. After inspecting the dilapidated bed, she decided that, with some additional rope webbing and a thick layer of pine needles, it would make do for as long as she stayed. The thought that she might as well not put down too many roots here or anywhere else nagged at the back of her mind. Although she had always longed to belong somewhere, to have a real home, the reality of such a dream coming true for her was too remote to even contemplate. Once again, she began to make the most of her surroundings. Once again she set her mind to the task of providing both income and comfort for herself. The first few times Shinonn went into town she was apprehensive about running into Lincoln. Although the hope of seeing him again had brought her to this remote camp at the worst possible time of the year, the thought of it actually happening caused dozens of butterflies to suddenly take flight in her stomach. She longed to see him with every breath, but at the same time the thought of looking into those brooding dark eyes once again filled her with a terror beyond imagining. But, after several shopping trips had failed to produce as much as a glimpse of the man, she began to suspect that he must have left town before she arrived. The thought that she had been so close and yet was still to be denied was devastating And then, when she had accepted the idea that he was not in Downieville, there he was, walking down the wooden sidewalk directly toward her! She managed somehow to continue placing one foot before the other without tripping and making a complete fool of herself. At the same moment, she felt her throat go dry and her face become stiff. Amazingly, her knees had managed to turn to water. Only by using every ounce of will power in her reserve was she able to continue walking toward him. She lowered her eyes to the rough boards beneath her feet as they passed so closely their shoulders nearly touched. Daring a quick glimpse over her shoulder, she saw him turn into a saloon, not breaking his stride as he pushed the swinging doors aside. "You must be froze clear through," the woman who poured her a steaming mug of coffee commented as she handed Shinonn the brew. "Didn’t realize it was all that cold out." She was a portly, middle aged woman. Wisps of fine, gray hair escaped the hairpins which held a loosely twisted knot in place. "Guess I’m just not used to it yet," Shinonn answered through chattering teeth. Trembling violently, she had barely managed to stumble into the small restaurant. Get hold of yourself, girl, she chided herself. He didn’t recognize you and there’s no way in hell he ever will. Don’t fool yourself that he would ever remember you from so long ago, even if you was dressed as

a woman. She forced the hot liquid down her tight throat, holding the cup in both hands to keep from spilling it, willing her heart to slow its rapid beat. I’m getting the hell away from here, she thought, her emotions spilling over. I made a fool move coming here. Yep, that’s it. No matter what it takes, I’ve got to get away from him. No!, her mind silently screamed. I want him to see me, to want me. I want him to touch me like a man touches a woman. Her fingers gripped the mug of coffee even tighter. She had never even allowed herself to think of any man in such a way. What was there about Lincoln Bradley that held her heart in such bondage? Finally, shaking her head slightly in resignation, she left the security of the restaurant. Although she spent the night dwelling on her dilemma, the morning sun brought no answers. But one fact was very apparent. No matter what she wanted, it was much too late in the season to even consider leaving Downieville. The trip would be too dangerous and very foolish. Even if she was willing to expose herself to the danger, she could never risk the lives of her horses with such foolishness. No, whatever she did, she would have to winter right here at her claim. She couldn’t run away from Lincoln Bradley until after the spring thaw, and she didn’t have a clue as to how she would go about tolerating living so near to him until then. "We haven’t been seeing much of you around town lately, Tim," Walter Guzman commented as he handed Shinonn a sack of coffee. "It must get mighty lonesome for you so far up river. Youngsters like you need to kick up your heels now and again." "I don’t mind being alone all that much, Mr. Guzman. I keep busy enough, and from what I can see, I’m better off by myself than I would be getting mixed up with some of the roughnecks that hang around town." "You might be right on that account. Truth is, we do have our share of ruffians. Mostly the men are a good enough lot, but there’s a bunch can be mean as skunks, specially if they’ve been battling with the bottle. "Why I remember the time, July 4th it was, just a few years back, they got themselves good and riled up. One of ‘em thought he would show what a real man he was and tried to rough up this pretty little Mexican girl. Juanita was her name. She called herself a dancer, but there’s those that say she did a lot more than just dance, though I wouldn’t know about that. She was a good looking woman, but tough as nails. Anyways, not meaning to stretch this story out forever, he went to her tent and tried to force himself on her. She said he tried to stab her with a knife. There’s others said she lured him into the tent, but whatever the case, she stabbed him right through the heart. "Well, drunk as they all were, they decided to have a so called trial right there on the spot. The more responsible citizens in town insisted on having a real trial, with a judge and lawyer for Juanita. But the outcome was the same as what the lynch mob would have come up with. They found her guilty and hung her from the bridge, right here in town. It didn’t matter a bit when she claimed she was with child. No

siree, they just hung her from that bridge just the same." "What do you think? Was she guilty?" "I can’t rightly say. I never could make my mind up on it. Still, it don’t seem right, hanging a woman. So far anyways, this here town is the only one in all of California that ever did hang a woman. I can’t say as that’s something to be proud of." "Maybe I’m just as well staying out on my claim. Seems there might be an element in this town I wouldn’t care to rub elbows with." "Oh, most every town has its rough bunch. Now don’t let my story keep you from coming to town come Christmas. I wouldn’t hear of you staying out there by yourself on Christmas day." "Christmas! I can’t think of anything that’s been further from my mind. When is it, anyway?" "Why, it’s day after tomorrow. The Clampers, a little social organization we have in these parts, are having their annual celebration dinner in the town hall and the whole town’s invited. And I’m offering you a special invitation, son. You’re not to be sitting out there on that claim of yours all alone on Christmas day. It just ain’t right." "Thanks, Mr. Guzman, I’ll think on it," she promised as she paid for her purchases and left. When Shinonn awoke on Christmas morning it was to an overcast, dreary day. The sky was heavy with gray clouds. Chilled air pierced through the patched walls of her shack as she hurriedly built a fire in the stove. Outside the cabin was a death-like stillness. Not one bird chirped; no squirrel skittled about looking for fallen acorns. She hadn’t given the Christmas dinner invitation much thought, but as she sat drinking her second cup of coffee, she began to think seriously about taking Walter Guzman up on it. Sitting alone in her cabin on a day like this seemed too dreary to contemplate. Why not go? She could enjoy herself and still not get too involved with the townspeople. Why not have a little fun for a change? She arrived in town in mid-afternoon, bundled up to her ears. She couldn’t remember when she had been so cold. The misty dampness penetrated through everything she wore. Inside the town hall a huge fire roared in the fireplace. The room, decorated with evergreen boughs and red bunting, exuded a warm holiday air. At the far end of the room, on a raised stage, several men raucously played fiddles, harmonicas and an odd assortment of home made instruments. Food laden tables lined the walls, leaving enough open space for dancing. The noise was deafening as people sang and danced to the music while others talked and laughed loudly, calling to one another across the celebrants. "Son, I’m glad to see you took me up on my invitation," the grocer called to Shinonn as she entered. "Come on over and get yourself a cup of this punch. It’ll warm your frozen tail and put hair on your chest." He handed her a steaming mug of a pungent smelling fruit drink. "Old Henry over there made it. Henry’s from England and says that this is what they drink on Christmas over there. Stuff tastes pretty fair after you’ve had a cup or two."

Shinonn cupped her frozen hands around the hot mug, trying to thaw her fingers. Sniffing the steaming liquid, she could smell a medley of fruit juices and spices and another scent that was alien to her. She tasted it and found it delightfully tangy. The warmth of the beverage trickled down her throat and warmed her stomach. She gratefully drank down half of the cub before Walter warned her to go slower. "That stuff’s a tad bit hearty, son, if’n you’re not used to it. I’d go easy if I was you." A warm, happy glow flowed through Shinonn’s veins; her head felt just a bit light. "I watched Henry make this batch and he really poured the whisky in." "Whiskey? There’s whiskey in this?" "Nearly half a bottle went into this batch, I’d say. Why? Don’t you imbibe?" "Can’t say as I’ve ever developed a taste for it. I think I’ll go find some coffee, if it’s just the same to you." She handed her half finished mug back to Walter "Grab some of that food before it’s all gone," he called after her. "It won’t last long with this mob." She found a plate and piled it high with the festive food, then retreated to a quiet corner to watch the party. It appeared that nearly everyone in town had shown up for the party. She spotted Lincoln chatting casually with a group of men across the room. As she had expected he would be at the party, she managed to steel herself against the emotions she felt whenever she saw him. The crush of people gave her a sense of anonymity, freed of her usual reticence. For the first time since arriving in town she felt free to feast her eyes on him. She found herself remembering the look he’d had in his eyes that day so long ago when he had first spoken to her. Caught up in her memories, she didn’t realize she had been staring at him for several minutes until he suddenly turned his head and looked directly into her eyes. Their gazes held for one startled moment before she quickly looked away and he returned his attention to his companions. As the evening wore on, the crowd settled down into a quiet, almost pensive mood. The rag-tag band played Christmas carols and old, familiar church tunes as the men joined their rough voices in song. The light, airy tones of the few women present were barely heard about the deep voices of the men. Here and there, removed from the others, sat a few lonely miners drinking their whiskey, apparently unaware of the festivities surrounding them. Shinonn leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and listened to the singing. Longing to join in, she feared her voice would quickly give away her closely guarded secret. She opened her eyes when she heard the scraping noise of the chair next to hers being pulled away from the table. Glancing toward the noise, she was shocked to see Lincoln lower himself into the chair. "I don’t recall seeing you around the saloons where I spend most of my time, but I sure do feel like I’ve met you somewhere before. The name’s Lincoln Bradley," he stated as he held out his hand in a friendly gesture. "Could it be we’ve met somewhere along the way?" "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bradley," she answered, managing to keep her voice both low and steady as she

shook his proffered hand. "I can’t say as I can remember ever having had the pleasure." "Forget the mister business. Just call me Lincoln. But I just can’t get over this feeling that we’ve met before." "I sure don’t remember it if we did. You must have me mixed up with someone else. "Say! It sure is getting late. I guess I’d better be getting back to my claim. I’ve got a full day planned for tomorrow. Nice to meet you, Mr. Bradley - I mean, Lincoln. Maybe we’ll see each other around town sometime." She nearly overturned her chair as she clumsily got to her feet. Suddenly the room seemed overwhelmingly warm. After several awkward attempts, she managed to get into her overcoat and out the door without making a total fool of herself. Her cabin had never felt so lonely as in the days that followed, nor the claim so remote. She was filled with a depression that no amount of work could relieve. The effort it took to force herself out of bed each morning was nearly overwhelming. It was only with an almost superhuman effort that she was able to push aside her lethargy and spend several hours a day working on her claim. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t help. The air was icy cold, the sky heavy with snow laden clouds. Most miners sensibly postponed working on their claims until warmer weather returned. But Shinonn felt driven. Any amount of discomfort was better than sitting alone in her cabin as the hours crawled by. She kept her pot bellied stove blazing with manzanita branches, a bush in plenty supply that burned with extreme heat. When her hands and feet became completely numb from the relentless chill of the stream, she trudged inside the shack and warmed herself, returning to her work as soon as the feeling returned to her extremities. Back and fourth she went, returning to the cabin to warm herself, only to begin the cycle again. She occupied the evening hours by building a sluice box. The cradle she had been using did a fair job, but a sluice box would enable her to increase her productivity two or even threefold. Having seen many variations of the miner’s tool, she had a fairly good idea of what she wanted to incorporate in her design. The box was one foot deep, one foot wide, and eight feet long. Running shortways, for nearly the entire length of the box, were half-inch high slats, which would catch the heavy gold as she sluiced water over the dirt she had shoveled into it. It took several evenings of work to construct the device, but when she had finished, she was satisfied with the results. Early the next morning she managed to drag the apparatus down to the river. It took nearly an hour of digging into the nearly frozen earth before she felt she had enough gravel to give it a fair trial. She allowed the swiftly running water to course through the box, washing the earth down its length. With her shovel she stirred and mashed at the muddy mess of earth and rocks, loosening nuggets which might be held tightly in clots of dirt. Then, after the water had done its work, she pulled the end board out of its slats and let the sluice drain off. Looking into the bottom of the box, she spotted several fairly decent sized nuggets. She smiled in spite of her depression. Yes, there was something magical about the sight of gold glimmering in the weak, winter sunlight. For just a moment her spirits rose as she gathered the nuggets from the bottom of the box. But as she stood, fingering the golden pellets, she felt the depression return. Even the magic of the heavy, smooth, gold pebbles failed. Sighing heavily, she folded them into her kerchief and tucked them

into her pocket. She turned absently away from the black gravel which lay in the bottom of the sluice box. Normally she would have already had her pan at the ready and been working to extract the last bit of gold from the box before she rinsed it out and began the job again. But today her heart just wasn’t in it. For whatever the reason, be it the gloomy weather, or a let down after the pleasant Christmas party, or the knowledge that Lincoln Bradley was so near yet so far from her grasp, Shinonn could not lift her spirits. Her lonely existence had become unbearable. The thought of one more lonely evening in her cabin brought tears to her eyes. I’ve got to get away for awhile. A few hours is all I need, then I’ll be fine again. I’ll go into town for a little fun and I’ll be just like new again. All I need is to hear someone else’s voice but my own, to hear some singing and laughing. Just making the decision to leave her lonely claim for a few hours brought a smile to her lips as she set a pot of water on the stove to boil for a wash. She brought in bucket after bucket of water and heated them, pouring the hot water into her wash tub. Cooking the boiling water to a bearable temperature, she removed her clothes and lowered herself into the steaming water. Using a dipper, she poured water over her head and gave herself a most welcome shampoo. Her dark, curly hair seemed to spring to life as she vigorously scrubbed it. She hadn’t felt this good in ages! After her bath she dressed in her warmest clothes and prepared to leave for town. Suddenly she remembered that it was New Year’s day. A day for new beginnings. A day for starting life afresh. Maybe, just maybe, this was the year when her life would finally begin to make some sense. As she picked her way along the river her emotions seemed to be going in opposite directions. First she was happy with the prospect of a new year, a new beginning, but then the happiness disappeared into a cloud of gloom as she realistically appraised her life - the soul deadening hours of loneliness of each day. The actual labor the claim demanded would have been enough to discourage most people, but Shinonn handled the work with her usual acceptance. No, she could handle the back breaking drudgery of the prospector’s life. What was becoming more and more intolerable was the cursing sense of isolation. And yet, what could she expect from the future? Where did she go from here? As she entered Downieville she sensed an air of festivity. Although her last trip to town had been on Christmas day, a most festive occasion, today, again a holiday, the town seemed different - more raucous - wilder. The laughter spilling out of the saloons had a rough edge to it. The music was louder. As she passed by one dance hall she heard the voices of two Mexican dancers raised in anger. lthough she couldn’t understand the words they were saying, there was no mistaking the anger in the women’s voices. Continuing down the street, Shinonn finally did something she would never have thought herself capable of, she turned and walked into a saloon just as if she did it every day of her life. To her dying day she would never know what made her do it. It was as if someone else had taken over her body and marched it through the swinging doors against her will. The noise was deafening. Someone was pounding loudly on a tinny piano, accompanying a drunken

quartet. If there was a tune somewhere in the midst of the caterwauling Shinonn could not locate it. But nobody appeared to mind. In fact, nobody paid much attention to the musically impaired group. Customers shouted orders for drinks over the voices of the singers. Three bartenders busily poured beer into pitchers and handed them out to grasping hands. Before Shinonn had taken more than a couple of steps into the room, she realized she had made a serious blunder. The drunken crowd was obviously out of control. What had sounded like a jovial good time from the street was in reality more like a drunken brawl. Deciding a hasty retreat was called for, she quickly turned toward the swinging doors, only to find herself bouncing off the ample belly of a big, burly, whisky smelling man. Before she had a chance to excuse herself and make a quick get away, the man grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her further into the room, propelling her into the midst of the most unruly group of all. "So you think you’re big enough to drink with the men, do you sonny?" the big man bellowed. "Hey boys, the drinks are on my friend here," he shouted over the noise. "You’ve got money on you, don’t you, boy? I wouldn’t want to think you was going to renege on buying me and my friends a drink." "Sure, mister, sure. Let me get a couple of pitchers of beer. I was just leaving, but I’d be pleased to buy you and your friends a round." "Leaving? Why we wouldn’t hear of it, would we boys? Nothing doing. You’re going to stay right here with us and help us drink all this beer." He grabbed a full pitcher of beer and shoved it at Shinonn. "Now drink it, sonny boy. Drink all of it." "No," she felt the panic rise in her. Other than the half mug of whiskeyed punch she’d had at the Christmas party, she had never so much as tasted alcohol. Her morbid fear of it overwhelmed her as she tried to pull away from the hands of the drunk. Unfortunately, the man’s firm hold on her prevented an easy escape. "Drink it, I said," the bully stretched an arm across her chest, pinning her to him while he tried to pour the amber liquid down her throat with his other hand. As she squirmed frantically to free herself from his grasp, his hand slipped until his fingers found themselves covering something that was totally unexpected. In a flash of astonishment he realized that his hand was not grasping a young man’s chest, but rather the rounded softness of a woman’s breast. She never knew whether the roar that rose from his throat was one of anger or desire as he threw the pitcher aside and, with his free hand, pulled her coat from her. He ripped her shirt open, exposing her breasts. For the briefest moment all was quiet. Every eye in the room seemed riveted on the unexpected sight. Shinonn stood frozen in terror, instinctively crossing her arms, trying to cover her nakedness. Raw fear gripped her as she stared in horror at the crowd of drunken men. Suddenly they were a mob, pulling at her with their rough, grasping hands, shouting obscenities as they grabbed at her, pushing their drinking buddies aside angrily in a frantic effort to grasp the girl. The torn shirt was quickly pulled completely off as she struggled in vein. Panic enveloped her as she saw

filthy, hairy hands pulling at the belt of her pants. Her throat strained in endless screams, yet no one heard, or if they did, no one cared. She was barely aware of the first gun report. All she knew was that something seemed to break the intensity of the attack. And then she heard the crack of a second shot. She stood shivering in shock as her attackers moved away from her, mumbling angrily under their breaths. "All right, little lady, put your overcoat on and let’s you and me get out of here." The words, though softly spoken, were full of fierce determination. Shinonn immediately recognized the voice. Lincoln stood in the corner of the room, smoke rising lazily from his pistol. She obeyed his commands, not questioning if he might be rescuing her from the angry mob for her safety or if he simply wanted the pleasure of ravishing her all to himself. Perhaps it was because he was someone she remembered from her childhood, but somehow she felt he was her protector. Keeping her eyes on the surly men who surrounded her, she reached down for her coat and quickly covered her naked torso with it, pulling it together with both hands. "Sorry to spoil your fun, gentlemen, but I can’t abide outright rape," he explained as he reached out for Shinonn’s hand and pulled her toward the door. "When you’ve sobered up, I expect you’ll be glad I stopped you when I did." "We’d better make some quick tracks out of town, miss," Lincoln said as they ran from the saloon. "Most of those men have been on a drunk since last night and I don’t figure they’ll take too kindly to having their sport interrupted. Why the hell you had to choose that particular saloon I’ll never know. They’re the wildest bunch in town. "Here’s my hose," he said as he threw her atop the chestnut stallion. With one fluid motion he swung up behind her, grabbed the reins and they were flying down the road, across the bridge and heading up the twisting road toward Sierra City before Shinonn knew what was happening. At Shinonn’s directions they stopped briefly at her claim, where she was able to grab a few clothes, some provisions and her two horses. She was on her way out of the door before she even thought to take along the gold she had worked so hard for. In just a few moments they were back on the road, racing away from the danger behind them. It wasn’t until much later that she was to ask herself where the greater danger lay. Had she left it behind, or brought it with her?

Chapter 9

Dusk was falling as they made their way up the mountain. The twisting road was deceptively peaceful in the purple shades of twilight. Far below them in the darkness of the ravine they could hear the steady roar of the Yuba River. Other than the rushing water, the sloughing of the wind in the pine trees and the rhythmic clopping of their horses' hooves, they ere enveloped in a blanket of peaceful silence. Neither spoke as they endeavored to put as many miles as possible between themselves and the angry mob they had left behind. Snow lay banked beside the road, reminding them that although they could travel safely at the moment,

another storm might arrive at any time, making travel impossible. The patches of snow became larger and more frequent the further up the mountain they traveled. Lincoln finally broke the silence. "I’m taking you to a place I have just outside of Sierra City that I won in a poker game a couple of years ago. Luckily it was far enough out of town that it was one of the few buildings to survive the avalanche of ‘52. We can hole up there for awhile. You’ll be safe there." "For how long? I can’t stay in hiding forever." "I’m not suggesting you do, but if you’re smart, you’ll let that bunch cool off a bit before you stick you head in Downieville again. At least let them get over their New Year’s hangovers," he suggested dryly. Darkness had completely settled over the mountains by the time they reached the cabin. "I’ll get a fire going before you freeze to death." By now it was so dark Shinonn could barely make out the outlines of the small building. She suddenly found herself trembling uncontrollably as she stood outside the door. Was it the cold, or was she afraid to go into the darkened cabin with Lincoln? What did she really know about him? Actually, he was little more than a stranger when you came right down to it. The stark reality of being totally alone with the Lincoln Bradley of her dreams was suddenly overwhelming. Though it was too dark to see into the cabin, she could hear him as he worked beside the fireplace, crumpling papers, stacking wood, striking a match along the rough stone hearth. Suddenly the flame caught on the dry papers and light flared, illuminating his crouched form, silhouetting his profile. As though mesmerized, she was drawn into the room. She stood silently just inside the door, gazing at the man who had rescued her. "Come on, come on. Get on over here by the fire. Wrap yourself up in this blanket. Look at you, you’re shaking like a leaf." He grabbed a blanket from a narrow bed that stood in the corner of the room and wrapped her with it. Gratefully accepting the warmth of the blanket, she allowed him to lead her to the hearth where she slowly sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her chin on her knees and gazed into the fire. As she stared into the dancing flames she realized she had no words - felt no emotion. She seemed totally unaware of Lincoln as he moved about the cabin, bringing in a bucket of water from the rushing river and preparing a pot of steaming coffee. She seemed startled when he crouched down beside her and thrust a hot mug into her chilled hands. "Here, get some of this into you. It’ll help warm you up." Speechless, she gazed at him, her expression grave. Her wide, unblinking eyes began to fill until huge tears slowly coursed down her cheeks. "Now what’s the matter? You’re perfectly safe." He paused for a moment. His voice softened as he continued, "You don’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you."

In spite of his concern, or perhaps because of it, the tears flowed harder. "Are you warm enough? Do you want something to eat? What can I do to make you stop crying?" His voice was beginning to sound desperate. One thing he had never learned was how to handle a woman’s tears. "It’s not you’re fault," she finally said through her tears. "It’s me. I’m just so ashamed." She covered her face with both hands and wept bitterly. "Awe, come on now. Don’t take it so hard. What do you have to be ashamed of?" "Are you serious? All those men saw me without my shirt on! Half the population of Downieville must have been in that saloon." The tears gushed even harder. "Oh, is that all. Forget it! I’ll wager there’s not a man in that bar who hasn’t seen a woman’s naked torso before. More than just the torso, if my guess is right." "But they hadn’t seen my naked torso before!" She wailed with renewed vigor. The wail was quite suddenly interrupted by a loud hiccup, surprising both Lincoln and Shinonn. Startled, they both looked at each other, then broke into gales of laughter. "Being seen half naked may seem a laughing matter to you, but it was a very humiliating experience for me," she managed to say between gasps of laughter. "But I have a great deal more to be ashamed of then being disrobed in front of all those men," she stated more soberly as she began to wipe away the tears with the corner of shirt tail. "Now everyone knows what a total fraud I am. I’ll never be able to show my face in that town again. Who am I fooling? The way stories spread in the gold fields, there won’t be a camp within a hundred miles that won’t know about my deception." "The men won’t like the idea of having been made fools, that’s for sure. Although, I guess I understand why you did it. A good looking woman like you would never have been able to live alone safely in a gold camp, I don’t think most of them will take too kindly to your pulling the wool over their eyes. And even I can’t see why a woman would want to go through the misery of working a claim. It’s brutal work, even for a man. But, I guess the gold bug can bite a woman just as bad as it bites a man." "I can’t even blame it on gold fever. Working my claim was only a way to earn enough money to stay in the gold camps. I don’t care if I never see another gold nugget as long as I live. Don’t you see? It was never the gold. I simply had to be here, and I couldn’t see myself earning a living like the girls in the saloons, so I became a prospector." "But what was the draw? Why was it so important for you to live in the gold camps?" "I told myself that I came here looking for my brother, but to be honest with myself, I’ve got to admit I never really cared if I found him or not. It was you I was looking for, not Patrick," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Me? But why? I don’t even know you." "We’ve met before. You don’t remember me, but we did sure as sin meet before."

He reached out gently to tilt her chin up, turning her face toward the fire. Reflections of the flames danced across her face and were mirrored in her exquisite, sapphire blue eyes. "There is something there. I’ve noticed it before. But for the life of me I can’t place where we’ve met before. I remember the first time I saw you walking down the street in Downieville. I thought you looked familiar then, but I figured it was just my imagination. But that was when I thought you were a boy. Now that I know the truth, the mystery is all the more intriguing." Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed deeply into his eyes. The moment had arrived at last. How many years had she dreamed of this? How many times had she imagined coming face to face with her father’s killer? It was for this that she had traveled hundreds, no thousands, of miles. Now, here she sat, facing the man who had haunted her thoughts for all those miles and all those years. "We met in the summer of 1850. You came riding into town and stopped at my father’s livery stable. You came to town to gamble, and before you left you killed my father." "Sean Flannery. You’re Sean Flannery’s daughter." "Yes, I’m Shinonn Flannery. And you’re the man who killed my father." Rising to his feet, he turned away from her, as if he dreaded facing the daughter of the man he killed. He stared into the leaping flames for several moments before turning back to her. "Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do? Have you hunted me down to kill me, Shinonn Flannery? If that’s what you’re about, well, here I am. I’ll not give you a fight. Is that want you want?" He stood before her, arms extended, seemingly offering himself for her revenge. "I don’t know what I want. After all these years, after all those endless miles, I still don’t know what it was I expected to happen when I found you. All I know is that something made me track you down. As crazy as it was, I had to find you." "Ah, Shinonn," he sighed, "how I hate the memory of that night. I never meant to kill him. I’m no gun fighter. All I wanted was to play a little poker, then, when the time was right, head on out to the next town. I’ve never wanted to wreck any man. I’ve always tried to play a fair game, for fair stakes. "But it all went wrong that night. I’ve gone over it a million times in my mind, but no matter how many times I think about it, I can never figure out how I could have prevented what happened. You’ve got to understand, it was an accident." "I know. The sheriff explained it all to me," Shinonn said quietly from her seat on the floor. "No, you’ve got to let me explain. I always wanted to tell you and your mother how sorry I was that it happened, but the sheriff told me to get out of town. He was afraid if I stayed around it would just cause more trouble. I guess he was right, but I’ve always regretted leaving like that." He stood gazing into the flames, his mind far away from the cabin. Once again he was in the saloon in that remote prairie town. Once again he felt the weight of Shinonn’s eyes on him as she stood there in her nightgown, staring first at her dead father and then at him. Would he ever be able to forget the eyes of that sad girl?

"Your eyes have haunted me all these years. I could have forgotten Sean Flannery and that miserable town if it hadn’t been for your eyes." The last words were more whispered than spoken. "All these years I’ve wanted to hate you," Shinonn spoke softly as she sat huddled on the floor before the fireplace. "I wondered if I could kill you if I ever tracked you down. But now I know I can’t do it. I know you didn’t mean to kill my da. The sheriff set me straight right from the start. Oh, I wanted you to be guilty. I wanted to hate you, but in my heart I knew you only did what you had to do. "I blame myself more than I blame you. I knew he shouldn’t be gambling with you. I knew he would drink too much. Why didn’t I try to stop him sooner? Why did I wait until it was too late?" Suddenly the unshed tears from all those years were unleashed. The guilt she had been carrying within her from the day of her father’s death spilled out. It had been all her fault! If she had tried harder her father would have stopped drinking and would have come home with her that night. The remorse was more than she could bear. Suddenly she felt strong, comforting arms surrounding her, holding her close in a firm, yet tender embrace. "It wasn’t your fault, Shinonn. There wasn’t anything you could have done." She buried her face in his shoulder as the tears continued to flow. She could feel his face resting against her hair as he gently patted her back. For the first time in her memory she felt the touch of a comforting hand. Even in her grief the sense of his caring seemed to reach to her very soul. Slowly the tears stopped and a wonderful feeling of peace enveloped her. "It really wasn’t your fault, you know," he said softly, in the low, enticingly raspy voice she had remembered throughout the years. He sighed heavily, then continued, "And it wasn’t my fault either. It just happened. Neither you or I have any reason to go on punishing ourselves forever." She pulled out of his embrace, and looking very serious, tried to explain. "It was like a sickness with him - the drinking and gambling. You weren’t the first man he lost everything to. I can’t remember how many times he came home drunk, with not a penny on him. Time after time we had to pull up stakes, leave our home with only what we could carry with us, only to start over again in an even worse house, in a poorer town. Each time it happened, he promised it would never happen again. Each time we moved to a new town everything was going to be different. Only it never was. If there was anyone to blame, it was Da. Nobody made him drink. And nobody forced him into a card game." She lay her head back on his shoulder, relishing the warmth of his body and the tenderness of his embrace. Shifting her weight, she cuddled closer to his chest until she could hear the beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, she sighed peacefully. How wonderful his arms felt, how comforting the caress of his breath against her hair. Her blood raced with an altogether new emotion as she drew her body even closer to his. What were these feelings, she wondered? Although reluctant to move from his embrace, her curiosity forced her to draw back far enough to enable her to look into his eyes. Was he feeling what she was feeling? Was there magic in this cabin for only her, or was he as entranced as she? His smoldering dark gray eyes answered her question. Their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. Slowly he lowered his head until his lips pressed gently against hers.

Was his kiss meant to comfort? Did it come only from kindness? She drew back once more, again seeking the answers in his eyes. What she saw sent an unexpected thrill of excitement through her body. Her lips parted slightly in wonder and anticipation as he placed his lips on hers once again. Her arms tightened around him as he drew her even closer. Her heart raced as the kiss grew deeper, more passionate. She could feel the wild beating of his heart through the thin fabric of her shirt, causing her to want to press even closer to the source of his emotion. How natural it felt to be gently lowered to the floor, until she was lying alongside him in front of the fireplace. How sweet it was to feel the warmth of his kisses, the thrill of his touch as he ran his fingers lightly down her spine. She pressed even closer to his body, molding herself against him. Passion overwhelmed her as she opened her lips, inviting him to claim even more of her. And then, as suddenly as it began, he pulled away. Chest heaving with emotion, he sat on the floor beside her, gazing at her with troubled eyes. Then, without uttering a word, he rose, grabbed his coat from the back of a chair, and stalked out into the cold, black night. As he walked through the door, Shinonn could see thick snow flakes drifting down upon his shoulders. The sudden blast of icy air sent a chill racing down her spine. Why had he left? Had she somehow managed to offend him? Had she been too forward? She sat before the fire, her heart racing with unspent emotion, aching for his return, wondering if she would ever feel the touch of his lips on hers again.

Chapter 10

Although it seemed an eternity had passed before Lincoln returned, he was actually gone less than an hour. Left alone in the cabin, Shinonn relived over and over the memory of the kiss and the remarkable sensations she had experienced as they lay in each other's arms. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to sort out all the confusing emotions she had experienced in those brief moments of bliss. In all her nineteen years she had never allowed any of her suitors to touch her as Lincoln had. She had found their groping hands repulsive. Yet now she longed for Lincoln to return and wrap her in his arms once again, to hold her close, to share his body with her. Merely allowing herself to think such thoughts was shocking, but the thoughts would not leave. And yet, though she longed to experience those delicious sensations again and again, she felt a stab of fear at the thought of being alone with him here in this remote cabin. Would he expect more of her than she would be willing or capable of giving? If so, was she ready to overcome her fears and give herself completely to him? Worse yet, what if his leaving meant that he wanted nothing more to do with her? What if he left because she had disgusted him with her forwardness? Oh, how had she gotten herself into such a mess? The silence was broken by his step on the porch as he stamped his feet firmly to shake off clinging snow. Her heart nearly stopped beating, then pounded so hard she could barely get her breath. Shear terror ran through her veins for an instant as he opened the door and entered.

"Looks like we got here just in time. That snow’s coming down hard. We may be stuck here longer than I’d expected. Lucky I laid in some food awhile back and there’s still some varmints roaming these hills." In one hand he held his rifle and in the other dangled a freshly killed rabbit. "At least we won’t starve for awhile. I don’t suppose you can cook." "I’ve probably cooked more rabbits than you’ve won card games." She reached out and took the rabbit from him. "Snow or no snow, I don’t intend to clean this creature here in the cabin," she said as she headed toward the door. "Here, I’ll skin him for you. Just let me sharpen my knife first." "Forget it," she responded as she reached into the watch pocket in her pants. "I always keep my jack-knife sharp enough to shave with." "Is that how you keep your beard trimmed?" he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting in a sardonic smile. "Maybe," she grinned at him as she gently but firmly closed the door behind her. She was glad to have the task of preparing the rabbit for dinner. Being alone with Lincoln filled her with a nervous energy that only physical activity could contain. But cooking and eating one small rabbit took only so long, and before she knew it, the two of them were sitting in the faint light of the dying fire. "I don’t know about you, but all of our ‘adventures’ have just about done me in." Lincoln stood and stretched his arms high over his head. "If you want to stay up for awhile, I’ll put a couple more logs on the fire, but I’m ready to turn in for the night." Shinonn glanced toward the bed, wondering, not for the first time, if she was expected to share it with him. "You can use the bed if you want. Not that I’m doing you any favors, mind you. That’s just about the most uncomfortable contraption I’ve run across yet." He spread a blanket for himself before the hearth. He appeared to pay no attention to her as he lay down, turned his back and pulled the blanket over himself. She stood uncertainly for a few moments, not knowing what she should do. Finally, with a small shrug of the shoulders, she lay down on the bed. He was right. The lumpy mattress was better suited for torture than sleep. She lay perfectly still, watching the flickering shadows of the dying fire. Lincoln’s steady, rhythmic breathing told her he had fallen asleep nearly as soon as he lay down. As tired as she was, she found herself unable to drift off. Try as she might, she could not quiet her restless mind. Yet she found comfort in the tiny cabin, in listening to the sound of Lincoln’s deep-sleep breaths. The very sight of him, curled up under the blanket, gave her a warm, secure feeling. As the fire slowly died on the grate, the cabin grew steadily colder. She pulled her think blanket closer. Curling into a ball, she tried to hold onto what little body heat she still had. The room grew colder yet. Finally, she realized that if she didn’t find some way to warm herself she would be miserable the whole night.

Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she crept to the hearth and placed another log on the dying embers. It took a few minutes to catch fire, and then a few more for the heat to begin to radiate out toward her. "Too cold for you?" Lincoln asked. "No, no, I’ll be fine as soon as this log gets going." "You don’t sound fine with your teeth chattering like that." "Th, th, they’re not chattering." "You planning on staying up all night feeding the fire? Cause if you don’t, that fire’ll go out and you’ll be freezing all over again." "Don’t worry, I’ll be all right," she answered through her chattering teeth. "The smart thing to do would be to lay down next to me and share the warmth of the fire. We’d keep each other warm when the fire dies down." "That doesn’t seem a very proper way to spend the night." She felt a flush of embarrassment rush to her cheeks. "Well, suit yourself. Be proper and freeze or lay down here and get some sleep." "I’m warmed up now. I’ll be okay. You just go on back to sleep. I’m sorry I bothered you." He didn’t answer as he rolled over on his side and closed his eyes. In mere moments his steady, deep breathing told her that once again he was sound asleep. I’ll never get to sleep on that lumpy bed, she thought. Lincoln’s got the right idea, sleeping on the floor closer to the fire. She glanced around the tiny cabin, trying to figure out the best place to spread her blanket. She wanted it close enough to the fire to make use of its warmth, and yet not too close to her host. It was really a bit of a dilemma, as his body blocked most of the access to the heat. Sighing in resignation, she finally decided that the bed would just have to do. In little more than an hour the fire had again died down and the temperature in the cabin was unbearable. He’s right, I’ll spend the whole night getting up and feeding the fire if I don’t get sensible and lie down beside him, she thought. As quietly as she could, she stepped out of the bed, her feet making no noise on the earthen floor. She pulled the blanket around her and again approached the fire. Ever so carefully, she placed another log on the embers, using every precaution she could to avoid making any noise and waking Lincoln. He slept peacefully on. Carefully, carefully, she lowered herself down to the floor and stretched out before the warmth of the now blazing log. Although she lay within inches of Lincoln’s outstretched body, she cautiously avoided

making any contact with him. Gradually the heat of the fire seeped through the blanket, wrapping her in its comfort. The peace of the remote mountain cabin soothed her. The gentle breathing of the man who lay so near calmed her even further. At last her mind found peace and she fell into a dreamless sleep. *** The air she breathed was frigid, yet she was surrounded with warmth. She felt as if she were wrapped within a delightfully comforting cocoon. Although she lay within the folds of her blanket, she realized it could not possibly supply the radiating warmth that enveloped her. As she slowly came out of a deep sleep, she gradually became aware of the steady warmth of Lincoln’s breath on her hair. She wanted to turn toward him, to gaze at his sleeping face, but at the same time was reluctant to spoil the moment by waking him. For several minutes she lay perfectly still, curled up in his protective arms, being warmed by his body and his breath. Finally she gave in to her first impulse and turned to face him, being careful not to waken him. Her face rested on his outstretched arm, only inches from his face. She lay perfectly still, gazing with tenderness and wonder at the face of the man she had been dreaming of for six long years. She longed to run her fingers along the outline of his thick, drooping mustache,but she knew if she took such a liberty her fingers would, of their own accord, reach out to his tempting lips. Although she knew he must be at least thirty years old, in his slumber he appeared much younger. The strain of his livelihood was gone from his face, replaced by a vulnerability she would never have suspected possible. A contented sigh escaped her smiling lips. The intensity of her stare woke him. As he opened his eyes Lincoln found himself staring directly into Shinonn’s sapphire blue gaze. Her guileless eyes sparkled with an emotion he found impossible to deny. Without realizing what he was about to do, he pulled her close, molding his body to hers. They lay there, bodies nestled tight to each other, neither wanting to draw away. She reveled in the warmth of him, the tender yet exciting feeling of her breasts pushed hard against his chest. His hands began a slow examination of her body, caressing her ever so gently as they continued their lazy search. Frustrated by the barrier of her flannel shirt, he reached under the offending cloth until he was rewarded with the feel of the silky skin he craved. Nothing existed at that moment for her but the feel of his body next to hers, and the touch of his hands as they stroked her flesh. Delicious heat followed each magical touch of his fingers as they trailed seductively over her body. A low moan escaped her lips as he kissed the hollow of her throat. A strange, yet delightful fever suddenly enveloped her. She yearned to have him kiss her where she had never been kissed before. Her body ached with the desire to feel him touch her most secret places. Unable to restrain herself, she reached up and kissed his mouth with a passion she had never dreamed herself capable of. Parting her lips, she invited his tongue to enter. Twining her tongue around his, she tasted his passion as he continued to stroke her body with his knowing hands.

Frantic to feel the touch of his bare flesh on her own, she pulled his shirt from his pants. Fumbling clumsily with the buttons, she somehow managed to open it, bearing his flesh to her touch. Her fingers relished the touch of him as she ran them through the tangle of curly hair on his chest. Suddenly the desire to be free of the contraints of her own clothes was overwhelming. The desire to lay her naked breasts against his powerful chest consumed her. Without thinking what she was doing, she quickly stripped off the offending garment and cast it aside. Encircling his neck with her arms, she pressed against him, kissing him with ever more passion. Somehow they managed to disrobe completely without ever quite leaving the touch of each other, their desire to become one overshadowing any inconvenience. Thrilling sensations spread through her body with his every touch. She moaned in pure delight when he lowered his head and gently sucked at her exposed breasts, licking and teasing them until they pulsed with desire. Instinctively, she arched her body toward him, craving the fulfillment of their lovemaking, and at the same moment wishing it would never end. The loss of her virginity caused a brief yet sharp stab of pain. But it was quickly forgotten in her fevered pleasure. Was it pain or pleasure that caused her to cry aloud at that very moment? The intensity of the passion they shared surpassed anything she had ever believed possible. Never in her life had she imagined such feelings existed. Each time she was sure she had reached the pinnacle of pleasure, she was astonished to discover there was still more for her to experience. Higher and higher the pleasure climbed, as Lincoln led her to reach even further into her inner depths. Suddenly sensations swept over her that were beyond all that had gone before. Beyond her wildest imaginings, it was as if a huge storm of passion raged throughout her body, gripping her fiercely. Filled to overflowing with this unbelievable pleasure, she called out his name in shock and reverence. He held her closely as their breathing slowly returned to normal, his long, subtle fingers gently stroking her hair. The glow of spent passion filled her eyes as she looked at him, her lips curling in a contented smile. "I had no idea," she said with wonder in her voice. "I had no intention of this happening, sweetheart. I never intended to seduce you when I brought you here." "Was it so terrible for you? Was I so inexperienced that I spoiled it?" "Don’t be a fool. You were wonderful. It’s just that I brought you here to protect you, not to take advantage of you. And now I’ve taken something that is so precious, so special." "You’ve taken nothing. You gave me more pleasure than I knew existed. You did nothing more than what I wanted you to do. In fact, I may want you to ‘take advantage’ of me again!" she said with an impish grin. "Don’t tempt me," he said as he gathered her closely to him. "You seem to have bewitched me, you Irish witch." "Have I?" she asked wistfully. "I thought I was the one who was living in a dream. Is it like that for you

too?" "Maybe this is all just a dream. Being here with you - holding you, loving you," his voice faded away as he burrowed his face in her hair. Had he really said the word "loving?" Was there a chance he might have such feelings for her?

Chapter 11

Shinonn stood on the rough boards of the porch, surrounded by the sparkling brilliance of newly fallen snow. Even the tiniest branches of the manzanita bushes were thickly coated with ice crystals. The silence was broken only by the occasional plopping of snow falling to the ground from over-laden branches. She felt as if she were in the midst of an enchanted forest, sure that nowhere else on earth could be quite so beautiful. Just inside the tiny cabin was something even more beautiful than the panorama that spread before her, on the other side of the door was love. She had never dreamed she could feel as much love as she had for Lincoln. How could she have hoped for such emotions when she had never known of their existence until this very morning? With a radiant smile on her lovely face, she returned to the warmth of the cozy room. She looked at it with new eyes. The fire that Lincoln had kept blazing brightly greeted her cheerfully. What had appeared just last night as a dreary hut, now glowed with a welcoming warmth. She glanced at the miserable bed, grateful now that she had found it too uncomfortable to sleep in. The blankets, still casually crumpled on the floor, brought a secret smile to her lips. As she looked into Lincoln’s eyes she saw the most beautiful sight of all - in his eyes she saw the same glow she felt in her own heart. He opened his arms to her, inviting her to share his happiness. He nuzzled his face into her tumbled hair, rocking her gently in his arms. "I do believe I’m falling in love with you, Shinonn Flannery. I never thought I’d say those words to any woman, but, by God, they are true." She lifted her face to his, gazing happily into his intense gaze. "I think I am too," she whispered. He sighed with contentment as he gathered her closer, holding her tightly for a few moments longer. "This is all well and good, but what we both need is a bite to eat. I don’t plan to starve to death, woman." He released her with a playful slap to her rump. "How about building us a pot of coffee while I dig around and find something for breakfast. It’s a good thing I’ve kept this place stocked with a few staples. I’d sure as heck hate to starve to death after I’ve finally found the love of my life!" *** Shinonn put her fork down, having finished a hearty breakfast of bacon, biscuits and gravy. Pouring

more coffee for herself and Lincoln, she looked around the room before commenting, "I can’t imagine why you have this place. You don’t seem the prospecting kind." "Oh, I’m no prospector! Why should I work my tail off with a pick and shovel when I can do much better for myself by dealing cards in a nice warm, dry saloon? "Actually, I won this place in a card game a couple of years back. I tried selling it, but the man I won it from never had found much of anything on the claim so I couldn’t find anyone who was interested in buying it. "I started coming up here from time to time and found I kind of liked the place. I keep it stocked with a few day’s worth of groceries and a stack of firewood, along with a few good books, so I can come up whenever I need some time alone. Now, with this last turn of events, I’m more than a little happy that I kept the place." Shinonn’s heart beat a crazy rhythm when he smiled at her with that crooked grin of his. "I’m more than a little happy that you kept the place too." She leaned across the table to kiss him lightly on the lips. Her smile was shy, but her eyes glowed with desire. He sat there for a moment, staring at the beautiful young woman across the table from him. Curly black hair framed her exquisitely formed face. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled through thick black lashes. Her delicately arched lips trembled slightly with anticipation. How could he ever believed her to be male, he wondered? Why, she was more female than any woman he had ever known. "How do you expect me to behave like a gentleman when you look at me like that?" "I don’t." Her smile grew more enticing as she began to realize the power she had over him. "I give up," was all he could say as he reached out for her. *** The angry wind blew big, thick snowflakes against the window. Although it was still early, they had lit a lamp and heaped extra logs on the fire in the gathering gloom of the raging storm. Though the storm outside raged, inside the snug little cabin the glow from the kerosene lamp and the leaping flames echoed the happiness which enveloped them both. "It looks like we’re here for a spell, whether you like the idea or not," he teased her. "Oh, I like the idea just fine. I just hope you won’t find my company too boring." "You may be many things, my beautiful Shinonn, but none of them will ever be boring." "Just the same, I think we had better think of something else to do besides,..." with a tiny grin she glanced over at the rumpled blankets that lay scattered before the fireplace, "well, you know. There’s so little I know about you, and I want to know everything." "Everything? You may not like all that you learn, my darling. I’m far from a perfect man." "I hardly thought you were perfect. But then, I don’t think I could be comfortable with you if you were.

"I know, why don’t you teach me to play cards? At least we can start out with what you do best. Well, second best, maybe." "My, you are a brazen hussy, aren’t you?" He grinned as he pulled a deck of cards off the mantle. "Only where you’re concerned," she laughed. "Sit down, young lady. You are about to learn the most important lesson of your life; how to play five card stud. Not just ‘play’ it, but how to win consistently yet honestly. I always say, a good poker player doesn’t need to cheat to win." "I’ve done a lot of watching. It seems a fairly simple game." "It’s no game, my dear. Those that think of poker as a game have already lost. No, poker is a science. Poker is figuring the odds of a certain card coming at a certain time. It’s reading the other man’s face, his eyes, the way he sits, the way he breaths. You’ve got to notice every little thing about every player at the table. And all the while, you make sure you don’t give them a clue to what you’re holding." He poured out two piles of beans to use in place of money, then began to shuffle the cards. "You pick your own style. Some keep a stone cold face, good hand or bad. The problem with that method is that it’s hard not to get just a mite more hard faced when you get that aces high full house. An experienced player will see those muscles tighten up and know you’ve got something good. "Now me, I play it kind of easy. I make a wise crack now and then. I kind of slouch in my chair, acting like I might be getting a bit bored. But all the time, I’m watching and I’m thinking. I notice everything about every man at that table. While I’m playing cards, nothing else in the world exists. And that’s the way it’s got to be, or you better keep your money in your pocket." Hours passed unnoticed as Shinonn took on the role of student and Lincoln that of instructor. He didn’t let on, but he was impressed with how quickly Shinonn caught on to the finer nuances of the game. "You sure you ain’t played poker before? I’m beginning to think you’ve been pulling the wool over my eyes." "Nope, never have. What with my da’s weakness to cards, I never wanted to have a thing to do with them. I did do a bit of watching though when things got too dull down in Kicking Mule. I guess I sort of picked up on it then." "I’ll say you did. You’re a natural, girl. I never thought I’d say it, but I’ve got to tell you, you could be better than me someday." She laughed at the thought. "Me a gambler? I hardly think so. I can’t imagine anything more far fetched." But Lincoln could imagine it. As he sat and watched her graceful hands shuffling the cards an idea began to germinate in his brain. He had always wanted his own gambling house. Suddenly the picture of Shinonn dressed in an elegant gown, dealing poker in their own saloon flashed into his mind.

It wouldn’t be just another shack of a place, he vowed. It would have class - red carpets, gold brocade drapes over stained glass windows, a richly carved bar backed with beveled mirrors. Crystal chandeliers would blaze overhead. He knew he could do it if she were by his side. He began to unfold his dream to her. At first it all seemed too ridiculous, but as he continued to talk, she began to see what he saw. She could see the beautiful room. She could hear the tinkle of a piano, the clink of glasses, the buzzing of the voices of players at the game tables. Lincoln would look superb in evening dress. Her breath came quickly at the thought of how handsome he would be. Her eyes glowed with excitement as she began to share his vision. And he wanted it with her! Her breath came quicker. She looked at him with sudden desire. The cards lay forgotten on the table as they reached for each other. His kiss was wild with passion. She was his woman and always would be. Nothing could keep him from possessing her completely, he resolved as he pulled at her clothing. Moans of desire came from deep in her throat. She longed to feel his hard body next to hers. She wanted to feel his mouth on her flesh, his hands touching her most secret places. She reached out to feel his throbbing passion, arousing him even more. She wanted to take him into her body, to be filled with his love. *** The next day the lessons began in earnest. Lincoln’s fantasy of owning his own gambling house suddenly seemed more teal than the four walls of the mountain cabin. They spoke of little else. Together they would see the dream come to be reality. Lincoln was fascinated by Shinonn’s hands. Although still callused by a life of hard work, he could see a grace in her movements which held him spellbound. The fingers were long and finely tapered. The nails gently rounded. Softened with lotions, they would compare to the hands of any pampered socialite. He vowed that she would never see another day of hard labor. He would dress her in the most beautiful gowns San Francisco had to offer, cover her with diamonds and sapphires. Men would come from miles around to gaze at her and would feel themselves fortunate to lose their money at her table. And she would be his. They could look as much as they liked. They could dream of her, as men do. But she would belong to only him. As the days passed and she became ever more proficient at handling the cards, Shinonn began to glow with the excitement of pleasing him. His dream became her reality. She was willing to work from morning until night if that was what it would take to learn all that he was willing to teach her. She tackled the job of learning how to win at poker in her typical style - never complaining, never asking to rest. It was Lincoln who called a halt to the lessons for meals. He was the one who would put the cards away when he noticed fatigue bringing a slump to her shoulders. On bright sunshiny days he insisted that they go for walks in the snow. He fashioned crude snow shoes for them both so they could walk across the heaped up frozen crystals. He knew she needed exercise and fresh air, but would never ask for a break in the lessons. As each day passed he found himself more and more in love with her. Her determination to learn his

trade awed him. Never in his life had anyone ever cared for him as did she. If only he had the words to tell her how he felt! His emotions ran deeper than any mere words could possibly reflect. Each night they lay together, sharing their bodies and their love. But as beautiful as this time was, Lincoln wanted more. Something deep within him yearned for something that was illusive, that refused to reveal itself, no matter how hard he tried to bring it into focus. Night after night he lay beside her as she slept peacefully in his arms, trying to pull out the mystery. And night after night, after what seemed hours of hard thinking, he would fall asleep with the mystery unsolved. Why couldn’t this be enough? She loved him, of this he was certain. And he loved her beyond reason. Together they would have a better life than he had ever dreamed possible. Could he never be satisfied? What was this yearning that gnawed at his guts? And then, in the early hours of one morning, the answer came to him quite suddenly. Shinonn was sound asleep, curled up in her lover’s arms. But, once again, sleep had eluded Lincoln. Cradling her in his arms, he had been awake for hours, trying desperately to reason out his unresolved restlessness. Suddenly the answer came to him as clearly as if he had read it from the pages of one of his treasured books. He wanted her to be his wife. He wanted to marry her, and he wanted to do it as quickly as possible. What had once seemed an impossibility now became an absolute necessity. He had never before even considered marriage. A gambler with a wife? Ridiculous! The two simply did not belong together. But now there was Shinonn. Suddenly he knew he would never feel complete until she became his before the eyes of God and man. He was possessed with the idea. Now. He must do something to bring it about immediately. Filled with a sudden energy, he gently pulled away from his sleeping love, being careful to not disturb her. Pacing the small room like a caged wildcat, his mind raced with ideas. Where could they get married? How soon? He thought of going back to Downieville where he knew there was a preacher, but discarded that idea. He would not subject Shinonn to the ridicule of the men who had molested her there. And he recalled that the preacher in Downieville had always seemed on the pompous side. He wasn’t about to be married by a man who might look at Shinonn as anything less than the angel she was. He wanted it to be somewhere special. Someplace that would always hold special memories for them both. Then he had an inspiration. There was nowhere more special than where they were at this very moment! She wouldn’t have to leave the cabin. He would bring the preacher to her. And he’d bring her a dress, a beautiful dress. A dress that would show her what a beautiful woman she was. He visualized how she would look in a dress with a tiny waist and flaring skirts. He could see the fullness of her bosom covered with fine lace. He started to wake her, eager to share his thoughts. But she slept so soundly that he hesitated. They had been at the cards until late the night before, and their lovemaking had been no hurried affair.

Glancing out the window he saw that the sky was beginning to lighten. Soon it would be morning. Why wait, he asked himself? If he started with the first light, he could get down to Allegheny, pick up the town’s preacher and someone to witness the ceremony, find her a dress and be back in a couple of days. She’d like Reverent Pittsley. He’s always seemed to be a good sport. Unable to put off executing his plan for even one minute more, he scrambled hurriedly about the cabin, looking for pencil and paper to write Shinonn a note, telling her where he had gone and when he expected to return. He found the stub of a pencil on the mantle, but there wasn’t even a scrap of paper to be found. Searching around frantically, he finally pulled down one of his favorite books and ripped out the title page. He scratched away quickly, telling her that he had gone to Allegheny, a mining camp not far from Downieville, and would return soon with a preacher to marry them. "I love you with all my heart, my darling. Soon you will be mine forever," he finished the note. With a pleased smile on his lips, he took one more look at his sleeping lover as he slipped noiselessly out the door. Shinonn woke late to find the fire had died to embers. The air in the cabin was chilled and uncommonly still. Why was it so silent, she wondered? Where was Linc? He had never let the fire die down this low before. She felt a stab of panic at the thought that he might have left her, but quickly regained her composure. He must have gone out hunting, she decided. It was just like him to try to surprise her with some fresh meat for their dinner. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders as she stumbled to the door, expecting Lincoln to come walking through it any moment. But when she stepped out on the porch Lincoln was nowhere in sight. Carrying two logs back inside, struggling to keep the blanket in place, Shinonn’s mind was still in a sleepy fog. I’ll make a pot of coffee and before it’s done he’ll come walking through that door, she thought. She smiled to herself at how pleased he would be to have a hot cup of coffee after being outside in the chill morning air. She folded the blankets and stacked them neatly upon the bed. No Lincoln. She swept the floor clean. No Lincoln. The coffee was ready. Where was he?! And then she saw the note lying on the table. She stood there staring at it. He had covered nearly every bit of the blank areas on the paper with neatly written words, far more words then would be necessary if he had simply gone off hunting. At least she supposed they were words, because to her the writing looked like nothing more than squiggly lines. She sat down at the table, picked up the paper and stared at it. Would could it mean? If only she could make out what those lines and swirls were saying! At last she burst into tears of frustration. It was too much. It just wasn’t fair! Well, she would just have to wait. Surely Lincoln would return soon and she would just have to admit to him that she couldn’t read and ask him what he had written. He would understand. He wouldn’t love her

any the less because she was ignorant, would he? The hours crept by. She thought of preparing herself something to eat, but the idea of food turned her stomach. No, she would wait until he returned. He would be hungry. She would wait for him. Surely he would come through that door any minute now. But where could he have gone? Why would he leave her alone like this? Time and again she looked at his note, filled with frustration and rage at herself that she was unable to read his words. Right there on that sheet of paper was the answer to his strange behavior, but there was no way she could solve the mystery. Night fell, and still she waited. Darkness crept into the room. She didn’t bother to light the kerosene lamp. The flickering light from the fireplace cast dancing shadows in the room. She waited. Finally, curled up in a blanket before the fire, she dozed off, only to wake with a start an hour later. What was that noise? Were those his footstep on the porch? But as she came fully awake she realized it was only a dream. She had only heard what she wanted to hear. He still wasn’t there. She was still alone. She awoke in the morning to total silence. The fire was nearly dead. She knew he was gone and wasn’t coming back. She didn’t even wonder why anymore. She had stopped thinking. Gathering together her few possessions, she turned to walk out the door. As she passed the table where they had spent so many hours happily planning their future, here eyes rested once again on the letter. Should she take it with her? She could have it read to her. She lifted the thin sheet from the table, uncertain. Then, in one decisive move she crumpled it into a ball and threw it with sudden fury into the dying embers in the fireplace. She may have been fool enough to have believed his lies, but she would be damned if she would sit and listen to his casual words of dismissal from some stranger’s lips. At least she could spare herself that humiliation. The crumpled page curled in the heat of the glowing embers as she closed the door behind her.

Chapter 12

A chilling wind struck her full in the face as she struggled to saddle her horse, but, thankfully, the sky was clear with no threat of another snowfall soon. Though frigid air burrowed quickly into her bones, she knew that no mere wind could cause the chill that had settled in her soul. The trail back down the mountain was treacherous with huge drifts of snow at nearly every turn, the threat of avalanche constant. She traveled slowly, carefully leading her horses. She knew she should be frightened to travel such a dangerous trail alone, but was relieved that the task demanded her full attention. There would be time enough for her to think about what had happened in the cabin, but she couldn’t face those thoughts just yet. She didn’t dare remember the hours she had spent planning her future with Lincoln, nor those special moments when they had lain together before the blazing fire. Her heart nearly broke when she thought of how his hauntingly dark eyes danced with pleasure when she beat him at a hand of cards, and how they had smoldered with desire the night she had slowly

undressed before him, not allowing him to touch her until she stood before him completely nude. The sound of her laughter echoed in her memory when she remembered how he had growled with animal passion as he had reached for that night. What had gone wrong? Why had he left? Had he planned it this way all along? Stop it! Don’t do this, she scolded herself, knowing that if she kept up that line of thinking she might never make it to safety. It took most of the day to reach her cabin outside of Downieville, arriving just as the early winter twilight settled over the mountains. Light snowflakes swirled around her. Before morning arrived all traces of her path would be covered. She prayed it would be a light snowfall so that she could continue on with her escape. As she entered the cabin her first instinct was to light the stove as quickly as possible. But then she thought of the trail of smoke that might alert a passer-by of her presence. Remote as that chance might be, she decided she had better not risk it. She prayed that, in the gloom of the evening, no one would see her horses as they peacefully munch hay in the nearby meadow. She bundled herself in blankets and prepared to wait until she felt it safe to leave. Several hours passed with frigid air creeping into the tiny cabin, reaching to the very depths of her. She huddled within the blankets, so painfully chilled that her mind ignored the iciness of her heart as the hours crept slowly by. Finally, deciding that it must be past midnight, she gathered together what was left of her courage and left the cabin for the last time. Her frozen fingers struggled clumsily with the straps on the horses’ tack as she forced herself to do the work that was necessary to get her far away from this place and all the memories it held. Although the going was slow on the snow covered trail several wagons had passed over it since the last snowstorm, enabling her to guide her mount along the ruts the wheels had dug. She trudged relentlessly on, down the winding road, past darkened miner’s shacks. To her right, down the steep incline of the mountain, she could hear the Yuba River tumbling over boulders. Up on the hill and to her right she saw the darkened outlines of Downieville’s outlying buildings. Her heart raced with a mixture of emotions as she prepared to steal through the town unnoticed. Fear threatened to overwhelm her as she crept silently along the road, praying that no one would hear the slight squeak of the horses' leather binds, or the gentle clop of their hooves on the snow covered road. If asked, she couldn’t have said which she was more terrified of, being found by the men who had molested her in the saloon or having to face a mocking Lincoln Bradley. Did he laugh with those same men as he told them stories of their lovemaking, she wondered? Did he joke about how easy she had been fooled into thinking he loved her? How easily she had returned his imitation love? Did he describe in humiliating detail the secret intimacies they had shared? For a moment she thought she would become physically ill with the shame of it all. How could she have been so easily fooled? Hadn’t she always known that no man could be trusted? A dog came running from behind a house, barking furiously in the still night. Panic stabbed her like a knife, paralyzing her with fear. But before she could take flight, she heard a voice from within the house shouting an obscenity at the animal, silencing it immediately. The shaggy animal contented itself by running

wildly back and forth behind the wooden fence. She reached the bridge which crossed over the forks of the river. It was from this very bridge that Jaunita had been hung not so very many years before. Remembering the story of the young Mexican dancer, she was suddenly filled with empathy for the hapless girl. This place was too hard on unprotected women. How cruel men could be to the more vulnerable sex. And physical cruelty was not always the most painful, she thought, her heart aching. She left the bridge behind her and turned left at the crossroad. Relief swept through her as she realized that within minutes she would be out of the town and on her way to Placerville at last. Back to Sofie and Alex. Back to the only two people in the world she knew she could trust. *** As Shinonn approached Placerville she began to sense that something was wrong. She noted a different atmosphere in the air as she passed one abandoned miner’s cabin after another. When she had left the town, the area had been crawling with placer miners. Now there were only a handful working their claims. Had this whole area been panned out already? Although it was an old story in the mine fields, Shinonn had somehow expected Placerville to survive. A big, bustling town, it had always seemed more substantial than most of the other mining camps. As she entered the town itself, her worst fears began to materialize. Building after building was boarded up. Only occasionally did she see a business that was still in operation. Her heart began to race with apprehension. Would Alex and Sofie still be here? If they had left, what would she do? Where could she go? Her mind had never allowed her to think past finding her two friends. She began to look frantically about for the bordello. She knew they would have replaced the tent with a wooden structure long ago, so in order to find them she would have to remember exactly where Sofie had purchased her lot. At last she was certain she had found the right building, but like so many others, it too was abandoned. As soon as Sofie’s bordello came into view Shinonn knew they were gone. It had that look of neglect which engulfs buildings within days after having been abandoned. Trash lay heaped in piles on the porch where the wind had carelessly blown it. A dirty grit covered the windows. One of the windows on the second floor had been broken and a tattered curtain gently billowed through the hole in the pane. Shinonn approached the building slowly, taking in each sad detail. She climbed the steps slowly and tried the door. To her surprise it wasn’t locked. But then, why would Sofie have bothered to lock it if she didn’t plan on returning someday? The unlocked door sent a clear message to Shinonn, her friends had no intention of ever returning to Placerville. She looked around the room. There was little left to testify to the fact that once it had been full of life. A couple of bottles lay where they had been carelessly tossed. A broken chair rested on its side near the stairs. Curiosity took her up the stairs and into each of the bedrooms. She went from room to room, searching in her heart for some answer to her dilemma. Where could she go? What was she to do? She had never

felt so alone in her life. Finally, realizing that the abandoned structure held no answers for her, she stepped out to the chilled winter day. She stood for a moment at the top of the steps, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. She turned and looked at the house one last time, trying to imagine what it had been like when Sofie, Alex and the girls had all been there. She could almost hear the sound of laughter, the plinking of the tinny piano, the clink of glass touching glass. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the old man as he approached from across the road. "You won’t find no girls there, sonny. They all took off to Virginny City." Shinonn was startled not only by the man’s sudden appearance, but also by the fact that he obviously thought she was a young man. She realized immediately that her experience with Lincoln had completely erased any possibility that she could continue with her foolish deception. She would never think of herself in a masculine sense again. "Virginia City? Isn’t that way over in Nevada? Why would they want to go there? Don’t tell me Placerville has been played out." "Well, ain’t you full of questions!" he cackled with an old man’s laugh. "Guess you ain’t been around here long." "No, I just got here. Came down from the Northern diggings." "Well, I guess you might say Virginny City is the one and only true bonanza. Why, they got more gold there than anyone has ever seen before, plus they got even more silver than gold. It’s the biggest strike of the century. Maybe the biggest ever. "Why, just about everyone hereabouts pulled up stakes and headed across the mountain months ago. The onliest ones that stayed are us that are too old to make it over the grade and some of the merchants who stayed here to supply those that went. "There’s a lot of money to be made here in old Dry Diggings, but it ain’t by digging in the dirt no more. No siree, now the way to make a bundle is to bring in the supplies that gold and silver bonanza will be needing. I hear it ain’t much more than a desert out there in Nevady, so’s most everything they need has to be brought in from the outside." "Do you know for sure that Sofie and her girls went out to Virginia City?" "That they did. Bundled up everything in the place, even that dad burned piany and headed out. Hated to seem ‘em go, I can tell you that. Sofie’s Place was the best cat house in town." "Thanks a lot, old timer. I guess I’ll be heading out there myself as soon as I get a good night’s sleep." "You won’t be heading anywhere for awhile if you want to get there alive. The pass over the mountain is piled high with snow. Onliest one who can make it through is Snowshoe Thompson, and if you ask me, I think he’s a might tetched in the head to go through all that jest to deliver mail." "Maybe this Mr. Thompson would take me along. I’ve used snowshoes some myself."

"I’d say you got just about no chance at all of convincing that big Norwegian of letting you tag along. He’s a loner, that one. Course, you could ask him. Nothing says a feller cain’t ask. You’ll probably find him over at the post office. I hear tell he’s leaving in the morning." Shinonn thanked the old man and turned back toward the post office she had passed on her way into town. As she climbed the steps to the building she noticed two strange looking objects leaning against the wall, next to the entrance. They were made of wood and were at least ten feet long. The tips at one end of each of the boards came to a point and were slightly bent upward. Leather straps had been attached to the middle of each board. She had hoped the mountain postal carrier would be inside, but the only one there was the post master who was busily stuffing mail into a heavy canvass bag. He looked up when he heard the door bang closed. "What can I do for you, son?" He stood and watched Shinonn approach the counter. "I was looking for the man they call Snowshoe Thompson. I need to make the trip over to Nevada and I was hoping he would take me with him." "He’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow, but there’s no way you can keep up with him." "If I can buy myself a pair of snowshoes I’m sure I could. I already know how to use them." "Oh, he doesn’t actually use snowshoes. That’s just a stupid name someone tagged him with. I don’t believe the man has ever worn a pair of the things. No, he skis across the mountains. Uses those odd looking stick-like contraptions you passed by out on the porch. On snowshoes the trip would take him a week or longer. Carrying the mail, he crosses over in three days on skis. Why, he makes the return trip in only two days! So you see? There’s no way you could keep up with him." "Maybe I could get a pair of those things. How hard could it be to learn to use them?" "Forget it, sonny. He’s never allowed anyone to travel with him yet and he’s not about to start now. Others have tried and he flat refuses to even discuss it. If you want to get to Nevada, I’d suggest you get yourself a room in town and get comfortable. It’s going to be weeks before that pass will open up." The post master couldn’t help but notice the look of disappointment on Shinonn’s face. "If you’re short on money, son, there’s a couple of boarding houses that’ll put you up fairly cheap until the pass opens up." "Oh, it’s not the money, I’m all right there; it’s just that I’m looking for some friends and just found out they went out to Virginia City." "If you’ve got the money for it, I’d stay at the Cary House over on Main Street. You won’t find a better hotel in town. Why, they tell me it’s as good as one of those fancy hotels they got over at San Francisco. "After you get settled, go on over to the Wells Fargo office and get your name on the list for the first stage to Nevada. You can bet your last gold nugget, old Charlie Parkhust will get a stage through as soon as it’s humanly possible. He’s just about the best driver there is, and Placerville to Carson Valley is his route."

"I think I’ll take your advise, mister. Thanks for your time." She left the post office with her spirits slightly lifted. Oh, she was disappointed that Sofie and Alex weren’t in Placerville, but at least she knew where they were and it was just a matter of time until she would reach them. She had gone too far and been through too much to let this little setback get her down. The grandeur of the Cary House nearly forced her to turn away. She had never even dreamed of such splendor. But then she thought, my gold dust is as good as any man’s here. So I guess I’ve got just as much right to sleep in one of their fine beds as the next fella. She squared her shoulders and marched up to the registration desk, half expecting to be turned away. But the clerk behind the desk seemed totally unconcerned by Shinonn’s rather shabby, disheveled appearance as he shoved the register toward her. Shinonn hesitated for a moment, staring at the large book. "Did you want me to write in that book?" Her face turned scarlet with embarrassment. "Each guest must register. If you wish, I can fill in the information for you and you can just put your mark beside your name." She sighed with relief. Apparently she wasn’t the first miner to stay here who couldn’t even write his own name. She was more than grateful that the clerk had treated the matter so casually. She took the room key he offered, started to pick up her bags, but before she could, a young boy grabbed them and headed toward the stairs. She glanced over at the desk clerk. His face was completely impassive, so she hurried after the boy who had taken her bags. When they reached her room, the boy reached out for her key, unlocked the door, then stood aside while she entered. The brass bed glistened brightly; the curtains on the window were crisp and clean. There was even a colorful rug covering almost the entire floor. "I’ll bring up some water for your wash basin directly", the boy said as he put her bags on the floor. "The bath’s down at the end of the hall." Shinonn could hardly wait for the boy to leave. As soon as the door closed behind him, she sprang onto the big brass bed like a playful child. Balanced on hands and knees, she bounced several times, testing its springs. What luxury! She had never slept on such a spacious bed, nor in such an elegant room. After a sumptuous dinner in the hotel’s restaurant she returned to her room. The fine meal, a hot bath and the thick mattress lulled her into a long peaceful night’s sleep. Brilliant sunlight streamed into her room when she finally awoke. Stretching lazily, she felt like a fat old cat, with not a care in the world. Then she made the mistake of looking in the mirror. The sight of her tousled short hair, plus the pile of disreputably tattered men’s clothes she had carelessly thrown to the floor the night before, brought her up short. She was suddenly filled with disgust at herself for her denial of her womanhood. How could she have allowed herself to carry on the charade all this time? How could she have aligned herself with the masculine gender, the very people who had brought her nothing but misery all her life?

Well, no more. She dressed in the cleanest clothes she had. She knew that when she returned to this room and dressed herself as a woman, she would leave behind not only a pile of tattered men’s clothes, she would leave behind Tim O’Brien. She wondered if the world was ready for the new Shinonn Flannery. Well, it had better get ready, she thought as she closed the door behind her, because she was ready for it! Curious eyes followed her when she entered the small lady’s dress shop. She smiled to herself, thinking that the sales ladies were soon to be more than a little shocked when they realized that this scruffy boy would be buying a whole wardrobe of women’s clothes for himself! The clerk who helped Shinonn select the clothes tried mightily to act as if she sold women’s clothing all the time to young men. But in the end she was unable to carry it off. Her curiosity at the young man’s purchases overcame her attempts at indifference. Shinonn left the shop laden down with packages. She had bought one dress, three woolen skirts, five shirt-waists and four sets of under-linens. Her next stop was at the boot shop where she bought her first pair of women’s high heeled boots. She barely made it up the stairs of the hotel with all of her bundles. Later, as she stood before the mirror dressed in her new finery, Shinonn was pleased with her reflection. The hot bath had brought extra color to her cheeks. Her clean hair glistened with a healthy luster. Thankfully, as she hadn’t cut it for weeks, it was beginning to take on a more feminine look. And the garnet red dress she wore was the most beautiful thing she had ever owned. She grinned at her own reflection. It felt so good to be able to be herself once again! No more over-sized shirts. No more heavy work boots. No more ugly old trousers. She walked carefully around the room in her new lady’s boots, testing the strange gait they caused. No wonder women walked so differently from men, they had no choice, their shoes were so peculiar! But she liked the way they made her feel. She liked the feel of the skirts brushing against her legs. She liked the way the bodice hugged her body, revealing her womanly shape. Looking around her luxurious surroundings, she forced herself to consider her circumstances. Staying at the hotel was out of the question. Although she still had an ample supply of gold, it wouldn’t last forever, and the price of the room seemed dear to her. Also, she had checked in as Tim O’Brien. How would she go about explaining Shinonn Flannery’s sudden appearance? It didn’t take long for her to come to the conclusion that the fine hotel was for Tim, but a boarding house would be much more practical for Shinonn. It took but a few moments to store her new clothing away in her saddle bags. After packing, she looked at the pile of ragged men’s clothing on the floor. Lying on the top of the heap was the shirt Lincoln had placed on her the last day they had been together. She remembered the smile in his eyes as he carefully fastened each button. "Let me do it," he had said in his low, grating voice. "I want to take care of you now and forever." This is forever, Lincoln. And where are you? Is this how you meant to take care of me? A glint of steely determination came into her eyes. "No man has ever taken care of me before, and I’ll be damned if I need one to do it now", she thought as she grabbed up her bags and headed out the door,

refusing to acknowledge the stab of anguish that pierced her as her eyes caught one last glimpse of the discarded shirt. The boarding house was more than a little run-down, but the woman who ran it was warm and friendly. She never questioned Shinonn’s story about being stranded in Placerville while she waited to meet her friends in Virginia City. She had learned many years before to take her guests at face value and to leave speculation to those who had the time for it. After checking in at the Wells Fargo office, Shinonn found she had little to do but wait. The long hours of idleness were difficult for her. She went each day to the stage coach office, more for something to do then to verify that there would be no stage leaving for Virginia City that day. She knew it would be weeks before the pass would open, but it gave her something to do. After leaving the office, she usually spent a couple of hours walking the streets of Placerville. As the days wore relentlessly on she thought she would go mad from the enforced inactivity. And then, after she had been in Placerville for several weeks, a new worry began to slowly creep into her mind. One morning the thought crossed her mind that she couldn’t remember the last time she had had her monthly. As quickly as the thought occurred to her, she swept it aside, refusing to even consider the consequence. But the days passed and still her "visitor" did not come. Finally one night, as she lay tossing in her bed, she realized she could not run away from the truth any longer. There was only one answer. She must be pregnant. She lay in the dark in shear panic. What could she do? The thought of suicide even crept into her mind for a single, brief moment. Tears of frustration and self pity streamed heedlessly, but they brought her no solace. She had never felt so alone in her life. The answer came to her as the morning light began to creep into the room. There was only one thing she could do. She would have her baby and find a way to raise it. Sofie and Alex would help her. She knew she could depend on them to give her the support she needed during this painful time. And when it was over, she would have her very own baby. No one would ever be able to take her baby from her. Finally she would have someone she could love who would always be hers. She fell into a deep, untroubled sleep, not waking until well past noon.

Chapter 13

The stage coach ride over the Sierra Nevadas had been more than miserable. Throughout most of it, Shinonn found herself to be nearly frozen to the bone and more than a little nauseous from the constant swaying of the coach. That is, she told herself it had been the swaying motion that so unsettled her stomach and not the tiny infant she was now certain nestled deep inside her. Although she had dressed warmly, wearing several petticoats, a woolen dress and traveling coat, plus gloves, a hat and a thick muffler, the icy air had relentlessly found each tiny opening around the door and under the floorboards, swirling around her ankles and under her skirts. At the first stop the driver, the locally famous Charlie Parkhurst, suggested she wrap up in a woolen blanket he had stowed away. Shinonn thanked the man profusely as he tucked the blanket around her with surprising gentleness.

When the stage finally pulled to a halt before the Wells Fargo building in Virginia City, Shinonn couldn’t decide if she would rather kiss the ground beneath her feet or hug the driver in relief. In the end she did neither, but instead satisfied her need to express her gratitude by shaking Charlie’s hand until he must have feared she would never stop. Her immense relief was quickly replaced by dismay, however, when she got a good to look at her surroundings. Her misery had prevented her from taking much interest in the passing scenery during the last few hours of the trip, so she had not noticed how very drab the landscape had become. Whereas Placerville had been located in lovely rolling, tree covered foothills, the hills of Virginia City were stark and ugly. What trees she saw were stunted and grotesquely twisted from the strong desert winds. The only other vegetation for miles around appeared to be scrub brush. Behind her rose Mount Davidson, a huge, almost treeless expanse. In every other direction, dropping away from her into distant valleys, stretched mile after mile of arid desert. It was hardly a scene to lighten a woman’s heart. How could anyone live in such a wilderness, she wondered. Yet surprisingly the town appeared to be even bigger and livelier than Placerville had been in its heyday. Which proved to her once again, the promise of a quick fortune quickly banished all inconveniences. Before reaching Virginia City she had assumed that she would be able to find Sofie and Alex with no trouble, but as she took in the immensity of the city she realized her task would be more difficult than she had expected. A mish-mash of plain wooden shacks, hastily thrown up tents and more substantial edifices stretched for more than a mile. More buildings and tents lined streets above and below the main thoroughfare. Looking up and down the street where she stood, it appeared that more than half of the business establishments were saloons. She quickly came to the conclusion that a town which supported so many saloons was very likely to also have dozens of sporting houses. She was suddenly faced with the problem of locating one particular brothel among so very many. She found herself in a bit of a quandary. She couldn’t just walk up to a stranger and ask for directions to Sofie’s cat house. She didn’t even know what Sofie would be calling her newest establishment, so she couldn’t ask for it by name. Also, she had heard that there were some unscrupulous procurers who would actually kidnap women to work as prostitutes. She wasn’t about to let that happen to her. Deciding a bath and a meal were her most immediate needs, she picked up her bags and trudged wearily up the street until she found a fairly decent looking hotel. It had taken her this long to get to Virginia City, she decided, she could wait another day to find her friends. Besides, when she met up with Alex and Sofie again, she wanted them to see her at her best, not all rag-tag like she was after the long coach ride. She was so tired she had to force herself to stay awake as she soaked in the wonderfully warm water. Too sleepy to think of food, she climbed between the sheets and was asleep as soon as she lay her head on the pillow. The next morning she took her time preparing for the search. She had learned while living with Sofie in Placerville that no one in Sofie’s profession stirred from bed before noon, so she dressed leisurely, tried combing her hair in several styles before deciding to allow the curls to bounce freely, then paced about the room for several minutes more before venturing down to a restaurant for a pot of coffee and several pieces of toast. She contemplated ordering eggs and ham, but the thought of the greasy food had a most unpleasant effect on her stomach.

As she nibbled on her toast and drank her second cup of coffee she finally admitted to herself that the queasiness she had experienced on the stage coach was more than likely caused by her current condition and that she might as well get used to it for a while. She still had moments when the thought of being pregnant threatened to overwhelm her. Depending upon her mood, she might be suddenly terrified or furious, desperately sad or ecstatically happy. But always, no matter which mood was upon her, she felt protective of the tiny child she and Linc had created. In a very real sense, her life now centered on this unknown person. She buttoned the heavy coat up to her chin and wrapped her woolen muffler carefully around her neck. It was still quite cool outdoors, and she was determined to take very good care of herself. She stepped out of the restaurant to a crystal clear day. The desert air, spiced with the scent of sagebrush, smelled wonderfully fresh as she began to walk the streets of Virginia City. She passed a doctor’s office, a lawyer’s, a couple of assayer’s offices and a general store. Across the street was the office of The Territorial Enterprise, the town’s newspaper. After walking several blocks and not seeing a single business that had the remotest resemblance to a brothel, she decided that the sporting side of town must be located elsewhere. She glanced up the hill at the many homes and businesses that were strung along the streets above. They all looked quite prosperous and neat. She saw several rather impressive homes. Somehow she couldn’t imagine that she would find the red light district up there. That left the lower part of town. As she walked down the steep road from C Street to D, she was certain she had made the correct assumption. One tiny crib after another was lined up one beside the other for several blocks. Although she was sure Sofie would never be found in one of those miserable rooms, the girls who lived in them would most likely have heard of her and would be able to direct Shinonn to her establishment. It was still early for their type of business, but Shinonn finally spotted one of the girls leaning against an open doorway, watching the street for an early customer. "Looks like you got yourself lost, lady. Or was it a job you’re looking for?" The girl gave a short, unfriendly laugh. "I’m looking for someone. I ... I thought I might find her around here somewhere." "And who might that be? A missing sister, maybe? You think she might have been lured down here against her will?" Sarcasm fairly dripped from the young prostitute’s lips. "No, I don’t think my friend was lured here against her will. What I think is that she probably has the best cat house this town has ever seen. I’m looking for a woman named Sofie Gunderson and her Friend, Alex Santini. I’ve been told that they’ve settled here in Virginia City." "Why didn’t you say you was a friend of Sofie’s?" The girl’s attitude changed immediately. "If you’re a friend of hers maybe you could get me in with her. What do you think?" "I’d be happy to put in a word for you if you’ll tell me where I can find them." Shinonn wasn’t at all surprised at the girl’s reaction. She knew that Sofie had never had trouble getting girls to work for her. But she was choosy about who she hired, and this unfortunate girl stood a poor chance of ever being one of Sofie’s girls.

"They got a place down at the end of the road there. But it’s only temporary. Wait ‘till you see the place she’s having built up on the hill." Shinonn recognized the same tent that Sofie and Alex had set up in Placerville. When she walked in, her two friends were the only two people there. Alex was busy wiping down the bar while Sofie sat at a table drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper. Alex was the first to see her as she entered. His blank expression of unrecognition was quickly replaced by an expression of utter astonishment. "My God, I don’t believe my eyes! Sofie, can you believe this?" Sofie’s cup settled onto its saucer with a clatter; the paper fell to the table. "I don’t believe it!" she screamed. Her chair toppling to the floor, she rushed to embrace her long lost friend. "Where have you been? We never heard one word from you!" She clasped Shinonn in such a tight hug that the girl couldn’t have answered if she had tried. The next thing Shinonn knew, Alex had pulled her away from Sofie’s arms and was swinging her around. "How wonderful you look! When did you get here? You’re not going to leave again, are you?" The air rang out with their enthusiastic welcome. She stood before them, tears swimming in her yes. "You don’t know how good it is to see you two... to know you’re both here for me when I need you." She was mortified when tears began to spill down her cheeks. She had certainly not intended to break down and cry in front of her friends. "It looks like it’s time for a little woman to woman talk. Alex, do you mind? I’m sure Shinonn will catch us up on all the news when she’s had a minute to calm down." "Sure, sure. You two ladies take all the time you need. I have some things to pick up at the general store anyway." He quickly donned his black jacket and left the two women alone. He had learned long ago that there were times when a man was better off leaving the ladies to iron out their own troubles. "Well, I’d say you found your gambler. Do you want to talk about it? "Yes,... no,...well, I guess so. Oh, Sofie, I made such a mess of it all! I did everything wrong! I really made a total fool of myself." "Don’t we all, at one time or another." "But I loved him so much! I didn’t know anyone could be so much in love. And I thought he loved me too. He said he did, over and over. I still can’t believe he left me."

Shinonn sobbed into Sofie’s comforting shoulder. The older woman patted her friend tenderly, much as a woman would comfort a small child. "Ah, honey, go on and cry. He’s a damned fool for letting you get away. He’ll regret it. He probably already does." "I doubt that very much," Shinonn sniffled, trying desperately to stop the tears. "I imagine he’s had quite a few laughs at my expense already. And he doesn’t even know the biggest joke of all. I’m going to have his baby." "Oh, you poor thing. Are you sure? Maybe if we took you to a doctor right away... What I mean is, it may not be too late..." "No, don’t even say it, Sofie. I want this baby. I’m going to love it with all my heart and nobody will ever take it away from me." "We’ll help you, sweetheart. You know we will. Don’t you worry about a thing, everything is going to be just fine." "I knew I could depend on you and Alex. That’s all I’ve been thinking about ever since I realized he wasn’t coming back to me. "At first I thought I would ask you to give me a job as one of your girls. After the time I spent with Lincoln, I figured I was just like most of them anyway. But I can’t very well ask you that now, can I? I’ve got to find work somewhere." "I’m sure we can work something out. In fact, I may have the perfect answer. Come on with me, I want you to see the place we’re building up on the hill. After we look it over we’ll start making some plans." *** "Don’t just stand there gawking, come on in." Sofie called. Shinonn stood in the middle of the road, gaping at the enormous building that towered above her. Sofie came running back down the double tiers of steps to grab Shinonn’s hand and pull her into the nearly finished building. "It’s really something, isn’t it?" Sofie glowed with pride. "We’re going to set this town right on it’s ear come opening night. Why, we’ll be such a classy honky-tonk, our customer’s will need reservations just to walk through these doors." The doors Sofie referred to were of elaborately carved mahogany with etched and beveled glass inserts. She opened them wide, giving Shinonn a full view of the reception hall. "You’ll have to use your imagination a little, but I think you can get the idea of what it’ll be like. This is the room where the girls will be waiting. We’ll have couches and tables scattered about. It’s going to be pure elegance - oriental rugs, lamps from Tiffany, huge vases of fresh hothouse flowers, satin and brocade sofas. And of course, mother’s piano over there in the corner. "Now, off to the left here will be Alex’s bar." They stepped into the nearly completed room.

"This room’s just about finished, so you can get a fairly good idea of what it’s going to look like." An ornately carved mahogany bar ran along the entire back wall. The traditional brass rail glistened before it. On the wall behind the bar were rows of shelves for the liquor, topped by the largest beveled mirror Shinonn had ever seen. Lamps, hung with green glass shades hung throughout the large room. "I thought about putting carpeting in here too, but decided against it. The richest men in town can still get sloppy drunk, and it’s a whole sight easier to clean up spills from hardwood than from a woolen carpet. "Now, over here is something new we thought we’d try." Sofie led the way out of the bar, across the reception hall and into a room of the same proportions of the bar. "This room will be strictly for gambling. Over there will be the roulette table and over here we’ll have the Faro game. Over in that corner we’ll set up for Monte. And scattered everywhere else will be poker tales." A door led off the room, into the back of the house. This was to be Sofie’s office. From this room a small private stairway led to her bedroom which was located directly above her office. "Alex has the same set-up behind his bar," she explained to Shinonn. "This way, we can have a little privacy but still be right here checking up on things." A wide stairway led from the main reception hall to the upper rooms the girls would be using. Shinonn counted eight of the medium sized bedrooms as they walked down the hallway. "If you go up these back stairs you get to the help’s rooms. With a place this big, we’ll be needing a good sized staff. We’ll need a cook, a cook’s helper and at least two maids." Sofie turned to Shinonn with a happy grin on her face. "I’d say we’re coming up in the world, wouldn’t you? I’m finally getting a place as nice as the one my mother had in New Orleans. Maybe better!" "I’ve never seen anything like it, Sofie." "I shouldn’t think so, honey. I don’t imagine you’ve taken to hanging out at bordellos since I last saw you," she teased. "Now, let’s get back to Alex. The three of us have some talking to do." *** "You’re the answer to our prayers," Alex said with a huge smile. They were all seated at one of the round poker tables. It was still early and only a few patrons lounged around sipping beers while they talked to a couple of the girls. "That place on the hill is going to take a heck of a lot of management. Sofie and I have done fine so far, but we’ve never tackled anything as big as this before."

"We’ve been going over and over how we were going to handle everything between the two of us. We sure don’t want some stranger poking his head in our business. But now that you’re back, why our troubles are over." "Just what do you want me to do? Alex has the bar and you take care of the girls. It sounds to me like that’s all there is to it." "Not by a long mile, it isn’t," Alex said. "That’s only what you see when you walk in the door. Who’s going to cook for all those girls" Who’s going to clean up after them? We’ll be needing a whole staff to keep the place running smoothly and that’s where you come in." "Right. What we need is a housekeeper, like they have in those big fancy houses in the French Quarter in New Orleans. It’s the housekeeper that keeps everything running just right." "I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m not even sure I’d know what to do." "You can do it. I’ve never known anyone brighter than you." Alex gave her a comforting hug. "But I can’t even read or write!" "Then I’ll teach you. Believe me, Sofie and I wouldn’t ask you if we weren’t sure you could handle it." "And it will be the perfect job for you, what with the baby coming along. You’ll have all the help you need, so you won’t ever have to do any of the heavy work. Believe me, it’s the perfect answer for all of us. What do you say, are you with us?" Shinonn sat for a moment looking at her two friends. She smiled and shook her head in amazement at the entire crazy idea of her being a housekeeper at a fancy bordello. She would like to see the look on Lincoln Bradley’s face if he were to ever find out where she was working! "When Lincoln left me I figured I’d ask you to give me a job. But I thought it would be as one of the girls, not as the housekeeper." "Honey, I don’t mean to offend you, but you never would make it as a fancy girl. You went with Lincoln because you loved him. What my girls do, well it’s different than that. They’re in it for the money, and that’s all. You never would have been happy living like that. I never would have let you do it." "Well, if you really want me to be your housekeeper, than I guess you’ve got a deal." "That sure takes a load off our minds, doesn’t it, Sofie? Between the three of us, we’ll make the Bonanza House so famous, they’ll be talking about it all the way to San Francisco."

Chapter 14

Finding a suitable cook for the Bonanza House proved to be a formidable task. She felt as if she had interviewed the entire population of Virginia City and still had not found a suitable candidate. Had Sofie and Alex been overly optimistic about her management abilities, she wondered? She rejected two applicants when they made it clear that cooking in a bordello was beneath them, that they had only applied for the position as a stop-gap between more suitable positions. One old Chinaman came to her

who might very well have been en excellent cook, but he couldn’t speak a word of English. How could she ever manage a cook who couldn’t understand a word she said? It saddened her to have to do it, but all she could do was shake her head in the negative as he rattled off an endless stream of meaningless sounds. One applicant even had the poor judgment to come to the interview half drunk. The man reeked of whiskey as he bragged about his culinary skills. Not only was he inebriated, it appeared that he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. She couldn’t end the interview quickly enough. After two weeks of interviewing, she was no closer to finding a cook than she had been when she started. With the grand opening less than a week away, she realized her time was running out. The next morning she awoke with a new sense of determination. The sound of birds chirping merrily just outside her hotel window cheered her. The day sparkled with a spring-like radiance. The light breeze that stirred the curtains at her window felt soft on her face when she opened it and leaned out to feel its freshness on her skin. Dressing quickly, she threw a light woolen shawl across her shoulders and left her room. The air felt cool and clean on her face. Her heart sang with the coming of spring. With a light tread she climbed the hill to C Street. Stepping into a small restaurant she frequently patronized, she found it nearly empty. The miners, its main clientele, had long since eaten and departed for their jobs at the mines. It would be an hour before the local merchants would start drifting in. And, as Shinonn was very aware, the sporting crowd rarely left their beds for breakfast before the sun hung high in the sky. For the first time in weeks she felt ravenous, not the least bit queasy. She was tempted to order one of every item the restaurant had to offer, but settled for a thick slice of ham, three fried eggs and a stack of flapjacks. As she waited for her order, a woman and two little boys entered and took seats a corner table. Shinonn sensed the woman’s desperation as she leaned toward the waiter and whispered something in his ear. Although it was evident by her manner that the woman sought privacy in her request, the waiter obviously considered the matter of no importance and answered her in a brusque, offensive voice. "No, we don’t need no cook. You can see we already got one, can’t ya?" "But maybe you could use a cook’s helper, or another waitress. I’d wash the dishes, scrub the floors, anything. Please, let me talk to the owner. I’ve got to get a job." "I tell ya, lady, we don’t need no more help around this place. It won’t do you any good to bother the boss, and I’m not about to get myself in trouble by calling him out here. "Now, if you’re not going to order something, why don’t you take yourself out of here. This place is for paying customers only." Shinonn’s heart went out to the poor woman. How could the man be so cruel? The woman stood, gathering her dignity about her as she picked up her few possessions and prepared to leave with her sons. Shinonn knew she had to help the woman and her boys somehow. She couldn’t bear to think of her leaving with the waiter’s ugly words ringing in her ears.

"Ma’am? I don’t mean to be forward, but I was wondering if you and your boys would like to join me for breakfast. I sure do hate to eat alone. You’d be doing me a real favor." The woman hesitated for a moment. Shinonn could see that she wanted to escape from her recent humiliation, but that she and the boys were also desperate for a meal and perhaps a little friendly companionship. "Please, come and sit with me," Shinonn urged with an encouraging smile. "I can’t remember the last time I got to talk to two such handsome youngsters." "Well, if you’re sure," the woman answered, a question in her voice. "My boys haven’t had their breakfast yet and I suppose they are a mite hungry." "I’m more than sure. Waiter! Bring me three more of those breakfasts I just ordered, and a throw in a couple big glasses of milk for my young friends here." An expression of satisfaction briefly crossed the woman’s face but was quickly replaced by the tight, desperate look Shinonn had noted before. Shinonn shifted her attention to the two boys. The older one, about four years old, had a shock of dark, unruly hair and an expression to match. She guessed that he understood only too well the humiliation his mother had just experienced. The expression in his eyes told of a child who knew too much of the world and hated what he knew. "I hate to eat alone, don’t you?" she asked him. "I was just wishing I had some company, and then I noticed you over there and thought how nice it would be if we could eat together." She smiled at the little boy, hoping she could help relax enough to enjoy his breakfast. If she didn’t miss her guess, it had been a while since any of them had eaten a full meal. "We’re very grateful, miss," the mother spoke in a humble, servile tone, making Shinonn feel uncomfortable. "No, please, I really meant it when I said you’re doing me a favor by keeping me company. And the name is Shinonn, Shinonn Flannery." "I’m Maud Turner and these are my boys, Clay and Ned." Maud appeared to be nearly forty years old, but Shinonn knew that a hard life such as she must have lived often aged a woman far beyond her years. She was dressed in a plain brown dress that had seen better days. Her hair, a mousy brown that was already beginning to turn gray, had been twisted into a tight knot on the top of her head. Though the knot was firmly fixed, a few wisps of fine hair had somehow managed to pull free, giving the woman a slightly disheveled appearance. "And what brings you and your sons to this unlikely spot on the map?" Shinonn tried to make conversation while they waited for their food. "My husband, Clayton, he works here at the Chollar mine." "I’ve heard about the Chollar. I hear it’s only been open a few months but it’s already a big silver producer."

"Yes, that’s what Clayton tells me. That is, that’s what he’s been writing. Actually, me and the boys, we just got to town yesterday and we ain’t seen much of their daddy to speak of." "We seen enough," little Clay mumbled angrily. The woman flushed in obvious embarrassment at the boy’s comment. "Things... well things didn’t work out like I thought they would. I, uh, I thought he’d be real happy to see me and the boys, but, well, I guess I was wrong. He kept writing that he wanted us out here and that he’d sent me the money as soon as he could, but he never did sent the money. "I had a job cooking for a real nice family ‘till the misses took sick and they decided to move back East where they had better doctors. When they left, I had just enough money to get me and the boys out here to be with their father, so I sent him a telegram and came on out. I thought he’d be happy to see us." The last sentence was spoken so softly Shinonn barely heard it. "I was wrong coming. He wasn’t happy to see us at all. I guess I never seen Clayton so angry. He stood there in the doorway of his house and wouldn’t even let us come in. Back in the house I could see a woman, a woman nearly full time gone with child. I heard her ask him who the crazy woman at the door was. She called him honey, just like he was her husband and not mine." "There must be some sort of explanation," Shinonn suggested. "No, ma’am, no explanation. He just told me that if he’d wanted me here he would a sent for me. When I asked him what the boys and me was supposed to do, he just said we could go to hell for all he cared and slammed the door in our faces." She pulled on the corner of her jacket, her face taut as she fought to maintain control of her emotions. Thankfully, the waiter brought their food at that moment, and all conversation stopped while the woman and her sons hungrily attacked the meal. Shinonn picked at her food while she pondered the woman’s problem. She realized that the cook’s position at the Bonanza House would solve Maud’s current dilemma, but how could she ask the woman to cook in a bordello? Finally, she decided that all she could do was make the offer. If the woman was too insulted to consider taking the job, well so be it. "You say you used to be a cook? How many people did you cook for at your last job?" "Oh, usually a dozen or more. The Holtmans were a big family and often had guests to dinner. Why do you ask?" "Well, I, uh, I might be able to offer you a job where I work." A look of hope sprang to Maud’s sad eyes as she looked expectantly at Shinonn. "Only, well, it’s not exactly a private home, or even a boarding house, for that matter. They have a saloon and a casino for gambling, and, uh, ladies to entertain the gentlemen." "And a dining room for the guests?"

"Well, not exactly a dining room. That is, it’s not for the guests. It’s for the help. You know, the girls who do the entertaining." "Entertaining. I don’t suppose that means singing and dancing, does it." "No, that’s not exactly how they entertain the gentlemen," Shinonn’s lowered voice indicated her immense embarrassment. "Are you one of the ‘ladies’?" "No, Maud, I’m not. I’m the housekeeper. But believe me, Maud, they’re not what you think they are. Well, in a way I guess they are, but they’re all good girls or Sofie wouldn’t have hired them. I know it’s hard to believe, but it really isn’t as bad as all that." Maud slumped in her chair as if every ounce of spirit had suddenly been drained from her. She seemed to age ten years in just moments as she contemplated just how desperate her situation had become. "I need the job. I guess I’d cook for the devil himself at this point." Tears of humiliation stung her eyes. Shinonn could only imagination how difficult it must be for her to maintain her dignity, refusing to let her sons see her cry. "The Bonanza House hasn’t opened for business yet, but it’s just about ready. The kitchen’s all set up, though. All they’re doing now is the last bit of painting and wallpapering. Do you think you could cook tonight, as sort of a tryout?" Maud sat up straighter, looked Shinonn directly in the eye and replied, "Yes, Miss Flannery, I would be happy to give it a try." To Shinonn’s great relief, Maud Turner turned out to be an excellent cook. Although her meals were not fancy, she always managed to satisfy even the fussiest eater with her wholesome family style cooking. She had her own relationship with the girls, never rude or condemning, but they never felt she was one of them either. Without saying say a word, she managed to convey the message that though she worked with them, her world would always be completely separate from theirs. Of necessity, Maud’s boys spent most of their time in the kitchen with their mother. Shinonn wasn’t entirely happy with the arrangement, but could think of no alternative. She would be happier when both boys were old enough to go to school, but until that time, she supposed they would have to remain where they were. Sometimes Shinonn wondered if Clay would ever be free of the rage she saw lingering in his darkly shadowed eyes. She could not remember ever seeing the boy smile, let alone laugh aloud. But Ned was an altogether different story. His laughter was contagious and his eyes sparkled with childish enthusiasm. When Ned rushed up to Shinonn one morning, threw his arms around her and gave her a huge hug, she thought her heart would burst with pure love for the child. It was obvious to any casual observer that both boys loved their mother enormously, but Ned’s love was open and carefree, while Clay’s was fiercely protective. Shinonn sometimes felt that Clay believed that only he had the right to protect and love his mother, that even Ned was an intruder into their private world.

*** In a few short hours the Bonanza House would officially open its doors for business. Shinonn drew a satisfied breath as she carefully inspected each room that had been entrusted into her care. She felt extremely fortunate that she had found Ying Sang just days before. Without the wizened old Chinese man and his two young helpers who completed her staff, she could never have finished all the work in time. She had never seen anyone worker harder than those three Chinese Coolies. She knew that the younger men had been brought to California to work on the railroads, so they were used to much harder work than any she was likely to give them. But Ying Sang was too old to have been enlisted in a work crew. She wondered how he happened to have come all the way from China, ending up here in Virginia City. But, since he spoke very little English, she supposed she would never learn his full story. It appeared that none of the three needed instructions on how she wanted the rooms prepared. As soon as they appeared for work, they had happily attacked the labor, putting freshly laundered sheets on each bed, dusting and waxing each piece of furniture, even setting out fresh flowers on each of the girl’s dressers. All Shinonn had to do was keep out of the way of the busy men. "Well, boss lady, I’m ready if you are," she grinned at Sofie. "I dare you to find a single speck of dust in this whole place, and you’ll find the best biscuits and corned beef you’ve ever eaten out there in the kitchen." "It’s wonderful, isn’t it? I declare, I get goose pimples when I think about opening those doors tomorrow night. But I don’t think we could have done one thing better, do you?" "It’s perfect, honest it is. You and Alex ought to be real proud of yourselves." "Alex is pleased as punch, and that’s no lie. Why, it’s almost like being respectable, it’s so fancy." A sharp rapping on the front door interrupted their conversation. "Now, who do you suppose that is knocking at the door? I thought everyone knew we weren’t opening until tomorrow. Maybe it’s a customer so eager, he just can’t wait!" Sofie laughed as she went to answer the door. Looking over Sofie’s shoulder, Shinonn saw a scruffy looking man standing on the wide porch. Standing to the side and a couple of paces behind him was a very frightened looking, very young Chinese girl. "You the madam of this here whorehouse?" "I manage this establishment, if that’s what you mean." Sofie’s icy tone would have frozen hell, but the man chose to ignore the unspoken rebuke as he continued. "I brought you this here China doll. She cost me a bundle down in San Francisco, so I figure she’s worth a lot more way out here where her kind ain’t so plentiful." Shinonn’s heart went out to the poor girl. What must it feel like to be talked about as if you were nothing more than an object to be sold on the open market? "I pretty much broke her in myself, if you get my meaning, so’s she got the experience she’d need in a

place like this. I figure that alone makes her more valuable, don’t you?" "Just how much were you asking for this young lady?" Shinonn was shocked at Sofie’s question. She couldn’t be serious! This girl was little more than a child! How could Sofie even consider something so shameful as to buy another human being and then use her in a bordello? "Paid two-fifty for her in Frisco, and I figure you owe me some for breaking her in and all, plus all the trouble of bringing her way up here. I figure she’s worth five hundred at least. Why, she’d be a bargain for twice that." "Don’t tell me you paid for this girl. I’d bet money you stole her, and against her will at that." Shinonn could tell by the look on the man’s face that Sofie had hit the truth square on. "I’ll give you two-fifty for her and not a dime more. You better accept my offer, mister, or I’m just likely to march right down to the sheriff’s office and tell him you tried to sell me a girl you kidnapped over in California," she added when the man hesitated at her offer. "Just give me the money, lady, and nothing more needs to be said. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, but I don’t want no trouble. Hell, she’s just a Chinee. Why you gettin’ so het up for anyway?" "Just a ‘Chinee’!" Sofie sputtered in rage as she slammed the heavy door shut. "I should have shot that animal down in cold blood. Can you imagine what he’s put this poor thing through? And he feels perfectly justified because she’s Chinese!" "Sofie, are you really going to put her to work up in one of those rooms?" "Shinonn! How can you even ask me that? You know me better than that. I bought her to get her away from that low down vermin. I haven’t a clue what we’ll do with her." Both women turned their eyes to the tiny Chinese girl. Her downcast eyes and submissive stance bespoke of years of mistreatment. "Do you speak English?" Sofie asked. "Yes, Misses, a little." The answer came out as little more than a whisper. "What’s your name, honey?" "Mei Jung." "Now, Mei Jung, just because I paid money to that disgusting excuse of a man for you, does not mean I own you or anything like that. This is a free country and nobody has the right to own another human being. We put all that sort of thing behind us in the war. I want you to understand that you are perfectly free to walk right out of here if you want." "But where I go? What I do?" She looked up at Sofie with terror-filled, pleading eyes. "Can’t she stay here? We can’t just throw her out."

"I work hard, Misses. I even be one of your girls like I was on the Barbary Coast. I promise to be good girl." "But you’re just a mite of a thing, not much more than a child. Are you sure you know what kind of work my girls do here?" "Yes, Misses, I know." She dropped her eyes to the floor once again. "I was one of those girls when that man took me away. He promised to take me to where I wouldn’t have to do that anymore. But I will, Misses. I’ll do anything for you if you don’t send me away." "Mei Jung, just how old are you anyway?" "I fifteen year old, Misses. I work as a happy girl for three year, after captain of ship bring me here from China. When sailors all left the ship when we came to San Francisco, the captain said he didn’t want me anymore, so he took me to that house and left me there." "But that’s a crime! How could he have treated you like that?" Shinonn was appalled at the girl’s story. "It was his right. When my mother sell me to him, she tell me to always do what he tell me. She say that he now my master." "Sold you! Your own mother? How could a mother do such a thing?" "This is common practice in my village in Canton. My father, he killed in opium war. We have too many children to feed. I the oldest daughter, so my mother sell me so the others can eat." "Still, I don’t see how she could have done it." Shinonn shook her head in disbelief. "She couldn’t help herself. But still I wonder if she had let me stay if we couldn’t have gotten along somehow. I feel bad that I’ll never see my brothers and little sister again. I miss them. But not mother. I don’t like to think about my mother. It still hurts to think she sell me when I’m only ten year old. I think I too young to leave home." Shinonn was filled with pity for the poor girl. Her own difficult childhood took on a whole new perspective. True, she had had to work hard all her life, but at least she had never been so bitterly betrayed by one of her own parents. "Well, don’t you worry, honey," Sofie put a comforting arm around Mei Jung’s shoulders, "we’ll find a place for you here - and it won’t be working as a ‘happy’ girl!"

"Maud could use some help with the boys," Shinonn suggested. "Right! Mei Jung could watch the boys at Maud’s house, not here. I never did feel right about having those boys around here, even though they stay in the kitchen. It’s going to be hard enough on them having their mama cooking in a place like this, let alone having the other kids know that they practically live here themselves." And it won’t be that long before I’ll be needing her too," Shinonn placed her hand protectively on her slightly swelling stomach.

"I be so happy to care for children." Mei Jung’s eyes glowed. "This the happiest day of my life!"

Chapter 15

Shinonn sat in the shade of the porch, a copy of the Territorial Enterprise spread across her more than ample tummy, a dictionary handy on the table beside her. She was deeply engrossed in an article written by the renowned Dan DeQuille. Under Alex’s tutorship, she had progressed in her reading ability to the point where she seldom needed to refer to the dictionary. "And a good afternoon to you, my dear." The friendly greeting came from her employer and tutor, Alex Santini. "Anything worth reading in the paper today?" "Just the usual, complaints from the miners that the mine owners treat them like cattle and complaints from the owners that the miners want too much money. Oh, and here’s an article that says all "houses of ill repute" should be closed down and those who run them tarred and feathered. As I said, just the usual." Alex chuckled as he drew a chair closer to Shinonn and lowered himself into it. He took a piece of the paper, folded it in half and fanned himself. "Whew! I don’t know if I can tolerate much more of this heat. And they tell me that this is just the beginning." "If you think you’re uncomfortable, you ought to try being this hot and seven months with child too!" "No, thank you. I’ll leave such matters to you ladies," he laughed. "Only the ‘weaker’ sex has the strength and fortitude to put up with such discomfort. The good Lord knew what he was doing when he gave that job to you women." "I don’t know about that. It seems every day gets just a bit longer than the last. And I find myself having to stop to catch my breath a lot lately. I just don’t have the energy I usually have." An expression of concern crossed Alex’s face. "Have you spoken to your doctor about this? Is everything all right?" "Oh, I’m fine. I did mention it to him last week and he said I should start taking it even easier than I have been. And I have been putting in a lot fewer hours at work. But I’d go crazy just sitting around here all day with nothing to do." "Nonsense! If the doctor said for you to slow down even more, then as your employer, I must insist you follow his orders. You’ve gotten everything running like a top at the Bonanza House, so I see no reason why you should be down there so much of the time. You should take off until the baby comes. You need to learn to relax a little." "I’ll think about it, really I will," she insisted when she saw the look of disbelief on Alex’s face. But idleness and Shinonn Flannery had never gotten along very well. Since she had had to work long hard hours from the time she was a child to help support herself and her family, she had never mastered

the art of relaxation. How could she possibly fill her days if she were not allowed to work? Alex came up with a partial solution when he appeared at her house a couple of days later with a deck of cards. "Sit yourself down here in the shade, little mama. Uncle Alex is going to teach you how to play cards." "You can save yourself the trouble. I’ve already learned from the best," she answered grumpily. "Oh? And now I suppose you think you know everything there is to know about cards? And who was this master card shark?" "Lincoln Bradley, if you must know. And all he taught me about cards was how to play poker. He said if you knew poker, that was all you’d ever need to know. "Course he taught me a couple other lessons I guess I would have been better off not knowing," she added ruefully. "Be that as it may, I’m here to teach you a whole lot about cards that I’m sure your Lincoln Bradley neglected to show you. I’m going to teach you how to cheat like an expert." "Alex! I’m shocked. I never would have thought it of you. I have absolutely no intention of cheating at cards!" Alex merely chuckled as he shuffled the deck with surprising dexterity. "I’m not suggesting that you do. But I’m going to teach you every trick in the book. That way, when you’re dealing in the casino, you’ll know enough to spot a cheater when you’re playing with one." "But since I’m not going to be dealing in the casino, why should I bother?" "Oh, but you are. That’s really what I came by to tell you. Sofie and I feel that you’ve done such a great job as housekeeper that you’re entitled to a promotion. Maud’s got that kitchen completely under control, and Ying Sang and his boys do their work like a superbly engineered machine. You’ve done so well, in fact, that you’ve worked yourself right out of a job. "Which brings us to the casino. We need you there. I can’t keep tabs on it from the bar, and Sofie sure doesn’t have the time or the inclination to do it. We can make tons of money in there, but we’ve got to keep a closer watch on the dealers and the customers." "I don’t know, Alex. I’m not sure you’re talking to the right person. Look at me," she glanced significantly at her bulging belly. "Do I look like someone who ‘manages’ very well? It’s plain to see I haven’t been able to manage even my own life." "Come on, Shinonn, stop punishing yourself. I won’t have you talking ill of yourself like this." "I can’t help it. With all this time on my hands lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Alex, I can’t believe the mess I’ve made out of my life." Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, the moisture causing her sapphire blue eyes to glitter like precious jewels.

"And the thing is, I still miss Lincoln. I think of how rotten he treated me, and yet I still want him. I must be the biggest fool alive." "Not a fool, my dear, just a woman in love. Unfortunately, good sense has nothing whatsoever to do with love." She reached across the table, taking the deck of cards from Alex’s hand. Her hands began shuffling the cards automatically, independently from her mind. As her fingers riffled the cards, she gazed off into space, seemingly unaware that tears still streamed down her cheeks. "We had a dream, Lincoln and I. It seemed so real I can still see it. He said he wanted his own gambling house and he wanted me there beside him. He was going to dress me like a queen, he said. And I was going to be his dealer. He said I had more talent than anyone else he’d ever seen." Like a dam bursting, the tears poured forth. Anguished sobs tore from her throat. For the first time since Lincoln abandoned her, Shinonn gave vent to her emotions. Alex rushed to her side, holding her, rocking her gently as the sobs continued to rack her body. "There, there, sweetheart. Go ahead and cry. You poor baby, it’s about time you got this out of your system." He held her in his arms, cradling her body against his. His touch soothed her soul, much like a child being comforted by a loving father. "I’m sorry about this. I never meant to cry. Ever. But I just don’t know what I’m going to do. Here I am about to have a baby when I don’t have a husband. I’m working in a bordello, and glad to have the job. What would my parents have thought? They’d have been so ashamed of me. "Oh, I see how the townswomen look at me. Even Maud. She can’t help it, she was raised to see women like me as just so much trash. Don’t get me wrong, she’s always very polite. But I know what she thinks of me, and I don’t blame her." "Maud sees you as the saint who saved her and her sons and that’s all she sees. Everyone who really knows you knows that you’re a good, loving, hard working girl. Who cares what those old biddies with their mean eyes and tight lips think? You’re worth ten of any of them." Shinonn had to laugh at Alex’s description of the town’s "upright" ladies, although the laughter was shaky. "Oh, I guess you’re right. I never much cared what their kind thought of me when I was growing up. Why should I start caring now? Not one of them ever so much as lifted a hand to help me when I could have used it. I suppose I’m just a little touchy right now." "It’s only natural, my dear, only natural." "I’ve just got too much time on my hands, too much time to think. I’m trying to take it easy like the doctor told me, but this sitting around doing nothing is worse than any work I’ve ever done." "Well, let’s get to work then."

Alex came every day after that, spending hours working with her. He taught her every game he had ever known, all the games they would be playing in the casino and games that no one would ever expect her to know. True to his word, he taught her every dirty card trick he had ever seen. He wanted her to be as expert in the field of cards as his own knowledge could guarantee. When she was alone she spent additional hours practicing shuffling and card manipulation techniques. She learned to stack a deck while she shuffled with such skill that not even the most trained observer would be able to detect what she had done. Alex laughed in glee when she dealt him a royal flush, calling each card aloud before turning it up. "I think I did my job too well. You’re downright dangerous!" He laughed with obvious delight. "I could be, if I wanted. But nothing could ever make me cheat at cards. I’d never sink that low." "No, you never will. But, you’ll sure as hell be able to spot a cheat when you see one. I pity the poor card shark who comes up against you." His eyes glowed in happy anticipation. *** Shinonn could have sworn that the sound of her water breaking was what woke her, but it might have only been a dream. Suddenly she was wide awake, lying in a pool of warm liquid. Her abdomen felt tight, achy. As she climbed out of bed, more water gushed from between her legs. She grabbed a towel from the nearby rack, hoping to catch the remaining flow of liquid. "Mei Jung, come quickly!" she called, thankful that Sofie had insisted on having the young Chinese girl move in with Shinonn several weeks before. "The baby is coming, Mei Jung. Run and get the doctor." "How long you been in pain?" "Pain? It’s not pain I’m talking about. Look at all this water! The baby must be coming!" "Sometime water break first, then comes pain. But it not happen all at once. It take hours for baby to come. We have plenty time to make nice and clean bed for baby to be born in. I clean room, then go for doctor." "You’re sure?" "I sure. I be with many women who have baby. In my village, my mother was mid-wife. I help her many times." "Why didn’t you tell us this before?" "Nobody ask." Shinonn’s jaw dropped in amazement as the tiny girl wrapped her with a blanket then helped her into the rocking chair.

"It pretty cold tonight, Miss Shinonn. We keep you warm. Pretty soon have bed all ready for you." "Are you sure you shouldn’t go for the doctor now?" She felt the muscles across her belly tighten; an aching pain spread from her lower back to her abdomen. "I go if you want me to. But I think the doctor like it better if we let him sleep. If pains get bad, I go quick. But doctor not do anything now anyway." "You seem to know more about this than I do, but it is a little scary." "Come, get back in bed. You be just fine, Miss Shinonn. Mei Jung never let anything bad happen, I promise." Mei Jung pulled a clean gown over Shinonn’s head, drew back the covers and helped her mistress get comfortable. "I stay right here beside you. You let me know when pains come and how strong they are. It will be morning soon, then I go get doctor for you." She lovingly brushed wisps of wavy black hair from Shinonn’s brow. "You rest now. Maybe you even sleep some more?" Shinonn lay quietly, eyes closed, as she listened to the sounds of Mei Jung pulling the rocking chair up beside the bed. Glancing over to the chair she saw that the girl had made herself comfortable in it, obviously planning on being there for quite some time. It was clear she had no intention of letting her eyes leave her young mistress for a moment. *** Pain pulled at her, dragging her from a troubled dream. She gripped at her belly, arching her back, a low moan escaped her lips. She felt Mei Jung’s light touch on her brow. "It almost morning now. See how light it is outside?" She pulled the curtains aside. "I go find doctor now." "Will it be soon, do you think?" "Doctor know much better than I. But don’t you worry, you not have baby while I be gone. Baby make much more work than that!" She gave Shinonn a little giggle and a comforting pat on the shoulder before leaving the room. A particularly strong pain had just subsided. She lay panting, relieved for the brief respite, when the doctor strode through the door. Two steps behind followed Mei Jung. "Well, today’s the day, is it, Miss Flannery?" "I sure as heck hope so, Dr. Chandler. I’d hate to think this was just for practice!" Another wave of pain gripped her, taking her breath away with its intensity.

The doctor was suddenly all business, checking the position of the baby, listening to the beat of both hearts, child’s and mother’s. When he was through he pulled the sheet up to her chin and sat down in the rocker. "Everything is looking good, Shinonn. I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. I just wish all my new mother’s were in as good physical condition as you. I think we’ll have ourselves a new citizen before noon, if that’s all right with you." Another, stronger pain attacked, pulling her into a pit of flaming agony, drenching her in sweat before it gradually lessened its grip. "Right this minute sounds about right to me," she managed to say as the pain finally subsided. *** She awoke to a peacefully quiet house. Curtains fluttered gently at open windows. The soft, subdued light told her it was nearly evening. She turned in the bed and was suddenly aware that the huge mound of stomach had disappeared, that her breasts seemed full enough to burst. The baby! She’d given birth to her baby! In a panic she realized that she couldn’t even remember if she had a son or a daughter. Where was it? Was something wrong? "Mei Jung! Mei Jung, where are you?" She was struggling to free herself of the tangle of bed clothes when Mei Jung came to the door. "I am glad to see you are awake. I think your little girl is ready for her first meal." The girl’s eyes twinkled merrily. "I go bring her." A daughter. Her very own daughter. An overwhelming sense of happiness enveloped Shinonn as Mei Jung gently placed the tiny baby into her arms. She slowly pulled the blanket away from the child, completely revealing her tiny body. "She’s perfect. And so beautiful! I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby, have you?" "Never, miss. What is pretty baby’s name, Miss Shinonn?" "I think I’ll name her Jenna. Jenna Flannery. That’s a fine Irish name, don’t you think?" "I not know Irish, but I think it very pretty." "Well, little Jenna, shall we try to give you your very first meal? This will be a new experience for both of us!" Instincts took firmly hold of the new mother and child and soon the sounds of suckling came rhythmically.

Chapter 16

"I don’t know, Sofie. This just isn’t me." Shinonn turned first to the left, then to the right as she critically inspected her image in the mirror. "Sure it is, honey. It’s the new you. You can’t expect to run the casino looking like a sixteen year old prospector, now can you?" "No, but I’ve never in my life worn my hair so fancy. And I sure as heck don’t want to wear any of that make-up." She indicated the pile of powders and rouges Sofie had brought with her. "Just a touch, honey, just a touch. You wouldn’t look right all painted up anyway, that’s not your style. But just a bit of powder to take away the shine, a touch of color on your cheeks and lips and a slight curl to the eyelashes, and you’ll be perfect." "Perfect!" She spat the word out. "I’m about as perfect as a salted mine. I’m nothing but a phony." "Nonsense! There’s nothing phony about you. You’ve only done what you had to do to survive in this crazy world. Just because you won’t lie down and let men walk all over you is no reason to look down on yourself. In fact, you should be proud." "Miss Shinonn, I think you are the most beautiful lady in all of Virginia city. All other ladies will die with jealousy when they see you like this." "I doubt that very much, Mei Jung. It won’t be jealousy they feel for me, more likely it will be disgust." Sofie shook her head sadly. If only Shinonn could rid herself of such negative thoughts. "Come on, let’s get back to the business of getting you ready to go to work. We’re going to buy you the most beautiful wardrobe this town has ever seen." Shinonn groaned aloud at the prospect. The dressmaker’s shop was discreetly located in the parlor of a house that was next door to one of Virginia City’s largest boarding houses. The room was crowded with tufted velvet settees and chairs and carved tables covered with fringed shawls; colorful cut glass lamps cast soft light on ornate statuettes. When Sofie and Shinonn entered there were already three middle-aged women sitting and chatting at one end of the room. The three ladies looked at the newcomers with obvious distaste. One woman leaned toward the others and whispered furiously. Lips pursed and eyes narrowed. The three appeared to bristle with collective moral outrage at being forced to share the same room as Sofie and Shinonn. A nervous clerk hurried over to greet the newest arrivals. "I see you’re right on time as usual, Miss Gunderson," she tittered. "Won’t you please come this way? We might as well get the lady’s measurements taken care of," she chattered nervously as she led them out of the room and into what had once been a bedroom. Shinonn had never been to a dressmaker before, but after nearly an hour of measuring and note taking had passed, she began to suspect that the clerk was taking as long at the task as was humanly possible. When they finally returned to the main salon she noted that the three "ladies" were nowhere to be seen.

The subtle change of expression on Sofie’s face corroborated Shinonn’s suspicions. So, I’m not fit company for proper ladies, Shinonn thought. Although not one of those self-righteous women has a clue as to who or what I really am, they all felt perfectly justified to sit in judgment of me. Well, I’ll be damned if I let the likes of them dictate how I run my life! "My friend here needs several dresses, both evening and for everyday. The evening gowns must be extremely elegant, made of the best silks and laces. To create the most sophisticated, elegant effect, I think they should all be in black. The day dresses, of course, should be made in a nice variety of colors." "Of course, of course. Let me show you some materials I think would be most suitable." The dressmaker sent the clerk scurrying for bolt after bolt of cloth. Black silk, black organdy, black taffeta, black tulle, black laces, all lay before the women. Next to the black samples, lay a pile of pretty summer prints. "Scarlet." Shinonn spoke the word with a decisiveness that startled everyone in the room. "Forget the discreet black. Everyone in this town has decided that I’m nothing but a fallen woman. I might as well give them what they expect. I want every dress I wear in the Bonanza House to be scarlet red." The dressmaker, the clerk and Sofie all looked at Shinonn as if she had gone mad. "I mean it. If they think I’m a hussy, I’ll be the most brazen damned hussy they’ve ever seen." "Honey, I think you’re making a mistake here. Nobody thinks bad about you. Just imagine how lovely you’ll look in this beautiful black silk." "No, I’ve made up my mind. I wear red or I don’t work in the casino. It’s as simple as that." "Well, have it you own way," Sofie sighed. "But I still think you’re wrong. In black you would look gloriously mysterious, so sophisticated." "Yes, but I’m not ‘gloriously mysterious’. And I’m a far sight from being sophisticated. Let’s face it, I’m a rebel. I might as well go for shock appeal. But I would like some dresses made of black broadcloth for daytime use," she conceded. "We’ll just forget all about making up those sweet flowered calicos. They won’t do at all." She grinned at the puzzled expressions on the women’s faces. "I’m going to confuse the heck out of those sour faced old biddies, aren’t I?" "You know you’ll be the talk of the town with your new wardrobe, don’t you?" Sofie grumbled as they headed back to Shinonn’s little house. "That’s the whole idea, my friend. If I’m going to be a fallen woman, why then I’m going to be the best damned fallen woman this town or any other town has ever seen. I’m going to be the woman every new man in town will have to come to see, just to see if what they hear is true. Every one of them will want to try his luck with me."

She drew herself a little taller, her chin jutting out with a new determination. "I’ll be a legend, Sofie, just you wait and see. I’ll be the tramp that every man wants but no man can touch. And no matter how hard they try, not one of them will so much as lay a hand on me!" Sofie had to smile, in spite of her original disapproval. The girl might be right, she thought. Nothing piqued a man’s interest more than the unattainable. And if you flauntingly dressed the unattainable in the most eye catching dress in the house, you might just have a gold mine on your hands! And then, to top it all off, whenever the beautiful casino operator was seen away from the Bonanza House, she would be the most demurely dressed woman in Virginia City. The somber black day dresses Shinonn had ordered would state, clearly, that this was a lady who was not interested in any man’s attentions. The combination would be dynamite! *** Swirls of butterflies fluttered in Shinonn’s stomach as she prepared to make her first entrance into the casino. She had never been so afraid in her entire life. What if the customers saw how her hands shook? One false move and the game would be up. If they sensed her fear they would destroy her. How in the world had she ever let herself be talked into such a farce? She looked in the mirror one last time. Her reflection should have calmed her, but instead of seeing the reflected image of the magnificently beautiful woman she was, all she saw was the face of a stranger peering back at her. She felt absolutely no kinship with the woman who returned her stare. Peering more deeply at the image, she was suddenly gripped with an overpowering curiosity. Who was the woman in the floor length mirror? How could she, Shinonn Flannery, the blacksmith’s daughter, possibly relate to this stranger before her? Mei Jung had managed to tame the masses of shiny black curls into a sleek, upswept twist, allowing a few wispy curls to float lightly around her face. There was a fine dusting of powder on her pale face, nearly covering the light spattering of freckles she had come to take for granted. Shinonn had even allowed Sofie to apply the merest hint of rouge on her high cheekbones, giving her a more mature, experienced appearance. Even Sofie agreed that no mascara was needed on her luxuriously thick lashes. Her eyes traveled away from her face down to the formal evening gown she wore. It was of silk, the coolest material the dressmaker had in stock, and was a brilliant crimson red. At the first fitting, Shinonn had been shocked to see that the plunging neckline nearly exposed her breasts. She had turned to the dressmaker in fury. "Do you actually think I would wear this in public? If you can’t make me a decent dress I’ll find somebody who can." The problem was settled by inserting a panel of exquisitely delicate, handmade ivory lace, softly folded into a red silk neck band. The final effect was actually much more provocative, with the merest hint of flesh peeking through the concealing lace. With leg-o-mutton sleeves, a tightly fitting bodice and voluminous skirts, the dress was superb. Shinonn placed her fingers lightly at her waist, drawing in her breath. How could anyone breathe trussed up like this, she wondered? Twisting from side to side, she tested the limits of the tortuous corset Mei Jung had laced her into. No

wonder most of the women she saw parading around town had such pinched expressions on their faces! They weren’t being haughty, as she had always supposed, they were most likely simply trying to keep enough air in their lungs to allow them to put one foot in front of the other! Standing before the mirror, she tried to calm her ragged nerves before walking the few yards from her home to the Bonanza House. Taking several deep breaths, she willed her heart to slow its erratic beat. She realized she could never allow the customers to learn of her inner terror. If they even suspected her fear they would make short shrift of her new career. Finally, squaring her shoulders, she pasted a haughty expression on her face and turned to leave. She would win tonight,... tonight and every other night. Nothing and nobody would stand in her way ever again.

Chapter 17

"Anyone else care to ‘buck the tiger’ tonight?" Shinonn called out as she deftly shuffled the deck of cards. She glanced around the crowded room, pleasantly satisfied with the bustle of activity, the sound of dealers calling cards, the clink of chips as bets were placed. As she placed the cards in the Faro box, she was reminded of the night almost two years earlier when she had dealt the game to her first customers. Just that day Alex had hung the Faro sign, a picture of a tiger, outside the Bonanza House, announcing their newest game at the same time. She remembered how terrorized she had been when she had first perched upon the stool and waited for the customers to try their luck. It had taken all of her iron will to sit on that stool and give the appearance of a seasoned professional dealer, all the while being painfully conscious of the curious eyes that apprised her every move. Her almost instant success had come as a complete surprise to her. Word of the beautiful, yet unattainable, dealer at the Bonanza House spread quickly. The throng of men crowding around her table was twice as large the second night and larger still the third. More dealers were hired after the first week to handle the customers who found the crowd surrounding her table too formidable, but were only too happy to try their luck at other games. Sofie worried that the customers would become unmanageable and angry when there was not enough room at Shinonn’s table for them all to play against her. But her fears turned out to be unjustified. Most of the men were perfectly willing to take their turns at her table. For many it was enough to share a room with the enigmatic gambling lady. True, they each vied for her attention in their own individual ways, but they somehow sensed that Shinonn was special, not one of the working girls of the bordello. It was Shinonn’s naiveté and innocence that set her apart from the other women. Although she was dressed in brilliant crimson, and worked in a man’s environment, her natural reserve set her apart. She seemed aloof, unattainable. She became every man’s dream. Each one wanted her, yet they all seemed to accept the fact that she was out of their reach. Word of the gambling goddess quickly spread. In less than a week every man in Virginia City had heard of her. It seemed the entire male population of the town found it necessary to come and see for himself if the stories were true. And not one man went away disappointed. It seemed impossible that the Bonanza House could accommodate more customers, and yet as her fame spread, still more of the curious were

drawn through the ornate double doors. Behind her back the customers often referred to her as the Queen of the Bonanza, often shortening the title to the "Little Queen." The more upright female citizens of Virginia City were scandalized when a story about the Little Queen appeared in the Territorial enterprise. What was the editor thinking of allowing that rogue, Dan DeQuille, to write about such a creature? The paper was deluged with complaints from the "decent" ladies, but their letters only added fuel to the legend. Always reluctant to share her private life with anyone beyond her tightly knit circle of friends, Shinonn now referred to herself simply as Mrs. Flannery. No mention was ever made of "Mr." Flannery, but the inference was that there had been a legal father for her young daughter, Jenna. Gradually the stories about the elusively beautiful casino dealer took on an even more tantalizing appeal. Word began to spread that not only was she the most beautiful and unattainable woman in Virginia City, she was also the best card dealer in Nevada, very likely surpassing any to be found in California. This new reputation drew a different clientele. More and more polished professionals found their way to her table. As she moved from one game to the next, from Faro to poker, even taking a spin at the roulette wheel, she could tell which of the gamblers were there for sport and which made their living at the games. With few exceptions the game of choice of the professional players was five card stud, the game Lincoln had spent so many hours drilling her on. The first time she had sat in on a poker hand the image of Lincoln had almost overwhelmed her. She could hear his voice instructing her on every move, on every turn of the cards. She fought with all her might to push him out of her mind, to concentrate only on the cards. With supreme willpower she managed to force him away, until only rare flashes of memories of him intruded upon her thoughts. She found that by moving from one game to another throughout the night she was better able to keep an eye on the other dealers and the customers. Her usual practice was to begin the evening with a couple spins of the roulette wheel, then to proceed to the Faro table. Dealing Faro for a couple of hours, she watched as the crowd began to build. Stopping once again at the roulette wheel, pulling in customers who might not otherwise bother with the game, she would then take her place at the largest poker table, located in the center of the room. She knew that once she began dealing poker she would not leave the table for hours. It was often strenuous sitting at the table for hour after hour, concentrating solely on the game. But she never tired of the excitement. Time stood still as she watched each player’s mannerisms, calculating with lightening speed the probabilities of each man’s hand. Often dawn was breaking before she realized that it was time to call it a night and shut the game down. "Bets gentlemen?" she asked in a brisk, business like manner. The spaces surrounding her Faro table were quickly filled with players. Glancing around the table she noted that all the faces were familiar. There was a bustle of activity as each player laid down his bet. Shinonn viewed the table with a proprietary air. As Alex and Sofie had taken her in as a partner nearly a year earlier, she had an even greater stake in the club than before. The operations of the casino were entirely under her control.

"I believe you all know the house rules and limits, gentlemen. Place your bets please. She paused, waiting until the last man had placed his chips on the table, then drew the first two cards. "The house wins," her melodic voice intoned as her assistant drew in the chips. She paused again until all the bets had been made. It was a simple game, without all the subtle nuances she had come to enjoy in her favorite game, poker. But, perhaps because the gamblers had a slightly better edge in Faro than in any other casino game, it was popular with the customers. She was thankful that she was only expected to deal for a short while, the repetition of it would surely have driven her insane. Although still early in the evening, the club seemed unusually lively this night. The masculine voices of gamblers and dealers blended with piano music and the laughter of women from the reception room next door. The air was already thick with cigar and cigarette smoke and the faintly sweet smell of whiskey and beer. Shinonn settled more comfortably onto her stool, enjoying a pleasant sense of well-being. She felt totally in tune with the gambling environment. She drew two more cards from the box, pausing while winners were paid off and the money from the losers was gathered up. Suddenly she sensed a slight change in the atmosphere. She felt a tingling sensation race through her veins, while at the same moment a cold chill ran down her spine. Glancing up from the table it seemed that nothing had changed, but something deep within her warned of danger. Then she saw him. Smoldering gray eyes pierced through the smoky haze and the crush of people, holding her in an almost physical grip. Her hands stopped involuntarily on their way to the dealing box. All others vanished from the room as she stared into those eyes. Although common reasoning should have warned her that one day Lincoln would come to Virginia City, she had never allowed herself to accept the possibility. Slowly, deliberately he crossed with room until he stood at an empty space at the Faro table, staring at her with bitter eyes. "Come to ‘buck the tiger’, mister?" Did he hear the quiver in her voice? "No, thank you. I tried it once and lost." The words were clipped, his voice filled with bitterness. Without another word, he turned and left the casino. Somehow she managed to continue dealing until she reached the bottom of the deck. She drew on last ounce of will power as she forced herself to continue with the usual banter of the game. At last, sighing with relief, she pulled the last card out and signaled for her replacement. Oblivious to curious eyes, she forced her way through the crowd, heading for the saloon. "Give me a straight shot of whiskey, Sam," she told the bartender, reaching toward him with a shaking hand. He poured the drink and handed it to her, expecting her to take it to one of the customers. Everyone who worked in the Bonanza House knew that she never touched a drop of alcohol. He was amazed when she downed the whiskey in one gulp and asked for another.

"Anything wrong, Mrs. Flannery?" he asked in concern. "I just saw a ghost, Sam," she answered faintly. "A ghost from my past that’s come back to haunt me." *** The Bonanza House had just opened for business when Lincoln returned the next evening. Shinonn and Sofie were in Sofie’s office when the sound of Lincoln’s voice resounded through the hall. "No insult intended ladies, but I did have a particular girl in mind." Sofie started for the door before Shinonn was able to tell her who the customer was. "Can’t say as I’ve seen you around, stranger. Did I hear you say you’ve already got a preference for one of our ladies?" "Yes, ma’am, that I do. I’ll take that one behind you." He reached into his pocket and drew out a stack of money. Glancing over her shoulder, Sofie realized that he was asking for Shinonn. "Sorry, but..." "It’s all right, Sofie. Take the man’s money. I think one hundred dollars for an hour of my time would be fair.’ Shinonn’s voice was tight with anger. "It’s about time he paid for what he usually steals," she said bitterly. She stepped into the room, walking directly toward Lincoln. Steel gray eyes locked with icy blue; the expression on both faces were grim. Every eye in the room followed Shinonn as she walked, ramrod straight, in his direction. "I don’t keep a room here," she told him through tight lips. "We’ll have to go to my house, but it’s not far. Follow me." She turned and walked out the door without a backward glance, knowing that everyone in the room watched in amazement. Never glancing back to see if he followed, she walked purposefully toward her home. "Your customers must get their money’s worth to go to so much trouble," he commented dryly as he lengthened his stride in order to keep pace with her. With deliberate steps she walked the short distance to her house. Mei Jung looked up in surprise when her mistress and a strange man stepped through the door. "Will you please excuse us, Mei Jung?" The girl quickly gathered her needle work together and scurried out of the room, peeking over her shoulder with curiosity at the handsome stranger. "Your ‘work’ must pay well. Not many women of your sort have private maids."

"Please lower your voice in my house." Her voice was frigid with anger. "I’ve paid good money for you. I’ll be damned if you’ll tell me how to behave." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a fistful of money. "Here. Take you money. I’m not your whore or anyone else’s." She threw the money at him, turning to flee the house and his overwhelming presence, realizing she had made a mistake bringing him to her home. But she was not to escape him so easily, she realized, as he grabbed her arm. He spun her around, bringing her face to within inches of his own. "There was a time when you were only too happy to please me." The words were spoken with the same whisper-like voice she remembered so clearly from the past. Yet now his voice sounded cruel, whereas before it had been so seductive, so tantalizing. "What happened, Shinonn? Was life with me too tame for you?" His voice grew louder, full of pent-up anger. "I told you to lower your voice." "Why? Is there someone in the next room you wouldn’t want me to see? Do you have a man living off you while you work in that whorehouse?" "Think what you will, just be quiet about it," she demanded. "No. I want to meet this man who lives off your hard earned wages. He sounds like my kind of man." Before she could stop him, he strode purposefully across the room toward the two closed doors. Ignoring the door Mei Jung had used, he flung upon the other. He was totally unprepared for the sight before him. Instead of the love nest he expected to see, he found himself standing on the threshold of a baby’s room. Apparently the noise of his raised voice, combined with the opening door, had wakened the sleeping child. She sat up sleepily, peering through the slats of the crib, her black hair a mass of curly confusion. "Mama?" She blinked her eyes at the sudden light. Shinonn pushed past Lincoln and went to Jenna, lifting her into her arms. "It’s all right, baby. Mama’s here." She turned and faced Lincoln, staring at him over the head of the sleepy child. His eyes sought an explanation in hers. "Lincoln, I would like you to meet my daughter, Jenna." His expression hardened. She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, his gray eyes darken in fury. "And her father? May I ask who he might be? Or do you even know?"

"Oh, I know who the father is. And so do you." His eyes narrowed, hardening with suspicion. "How do I know you’re not lying?" "Think what you will. It really doesn’t matter to me anymore." She turned her back to him as she gently lowered the sleepy child to the bed. With hesitant steps he entered the room, crossing to the small bed. Jenna looked at him with wide, sapphire eyes as he lifted her chin and gazed at her face. In spite of his doubts he found himself completely absorbed in each of her features. "She would be about the right age," he finally acknowledged. "She’s so beautiful." He was unable to keep the awe from his voice. Reaching for her tiny hands, he carefully spread her fingers. He examined her hands carefully, gently outlining the tiny, slightly crooked smallest fingers. Spreading his own hand, he compared their fingers. There was absolutely no doubt, her tiny crooked finger was a miniature replica of his own. It was a family trait he could not deny. Gently lifting the child into his arms, he lowered his head so that her black ringlets rested against his cheek. He held her close, not speaking, gently rocking from side to side. After a few moments, he lowered the child to her bed, carefully covering her. He stood watching as she slowly closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. It seemed his eyes could not gather in enough of the wonder of the child. Turning slowly, he faced Shinonn at last. "I’m sorry." It was the slightly raspy voice she had never been able to forget, speaking the same words she had heard so many years before, after her father had died. For just an instant she felt herself respond to the stricken look in his eyes, the pleading note in his voice. But then memories of his desertion flooded back. She turned her back on him and left the room.

Chapter 18

"Why wasn’t I told?" he blurted out angrily. "I had a right to know I was going to be a father." His anger failed to touch her. "And just how was I supposed to tell you? How was I to know you’d even care?" "I can’t believe you let our daughter be born a bastard!" "As I recall it, I had no choice in the matter." "This is all you’re fault, you know. If you hadn’t run out on me, none of this would have happened."

"Me run out on you! Let me refresh your memory, Lincoln Bradley. It was me who was left sitting alone in that mountain cabin of yours. I wasn’t the one who sneaked out in the middle of the night!" "I didn’t ‘sneak out’. I just wanted to get an early start and didn’t want to wake you from a sound sleep. It seemed like the considerate thing to do at the moment." "Oh, very considerate. I call that real consideration, making love to me for weeks then suddenly leaving me there alone without so much as saying good-by!" "But I left you a note! I told you exactly where I was going and when I would be back." "Fat lot of good a note does when you can’t read!" "You can’t read?" It was clear his shock was genuine. "It never occurred to me. Oh, my God, no wonder you were so angry. I just assumed..." "Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of freak. I’m not as ignorant as I was then. I’ve learned to read and I’ve learned to take care of myself and my baby." "Our baby. Don’t forget I have a stake in her life too." "Don’t be so sure of yourself, Lincoln Bradley. What makes you think I want you to have anything to do with my child.?" "Not just with the child, Shinonn. I intend to have a great deal to do with both of you." Before she had a chance to stop him, he pulled her roughly to him, capturing her mouth in a hard, angry kiss. "You can’t force yourself back into my life. Nobody forces me to do anything." His hold on her remained firm, but she could feel his anger subsiding. One hand gently caressed just beneath her ribs, working slowly toward her breast. At the same time, he lowered his head to nuzzle seductively at her neck. His warm breath teased just beneath her ear, sending rivulets of delicious sensations shooting through her body. She desperately fought with all her will to resist the temptation to melt in his arms, to mold her body to his. A soft gasp escaped her lips as his fingers reached their goal and began their irresistible explorations of the contours of her breast. She couldn’t control her ragged breathing as the tip of his tongue teased the throbbing place at her throat. "You know you want me as much as I want you," he whispered hoarsely just before he captured her mouth once again. Her only answer was a low moan as she gave into the overwhelming impulse to open her lips to his probing tongue. Her body begged for surrender, rendering further denial impossible. She felt his arousal as he pressed his body hard against hers. His fingers began to work at unfastening the back of her dress. The full realization of just what he intended to do brought her abruptly to her senses. "Are you insane? You can’t make love to me here. What if Jenna should waken? This is all wrong."

"Why is it wrong for me to be here when you bring your customers here all night long?" "My customers! Do you think for one minute...? You do! You really do think I’m a prostitute!" "Of course I do. What do you think I am, blind? For God’s sake, look where you work! What should I think?" "I’m a dealer! I play poker in the casino. And that’s all I do. That’s all I’ve ever done there." Her face was scarlet with anger. The flashes of doubt she saw in his eyes only served to increase her anger. "Oh, just get out of here. I wish you had never come to Virginia City. I was doing just fine without you. Now get the hell out of here." "I’m not going anywhere without my daughter." "Your daughter! Less than an hour ago you didn’t even know you had a daughter, and now you won’t leave without her?" "That’s right, my love." His voice was filled with resolve. "I want my daughter and I want you. I’ve missed out on nearly three years of happiness. I’m not about to let another day slip away from us." Her anger drained away in the face of his devotion, leaving her weak and confused. "I don’t know, Linc. So much has happened. It’s been so long." "You know you still love me. And all I have to do is kiss you again to prove to both of us that you still want me." He pulled her into his arms, intent on proving his point, kissing her deeply, arousing a longing she could not deny. "I can’t believe how much I love you, Shinonn," he said as he held her close. "I didn’t know how I could go on without you when I came back to that empty cabin. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. His raspy voice was filled with the agony he had suffered. Suddenly she remembered her own devastation when she had believed he had deserted her. He must have felt just as badly himself when he returned and she was gone. Taking his face in her two hands, she looked deeply into his troubled eyes. She slowly pulled his head down toward her own, kissing him gently. A sad smile touched her lips. "I don’t ever want to feel like that again either. Don’t go away." "I’m not going to accept anything less than marriage, you know," he stated firmly. Suddenly the tension was broken by the sound of Shinonn’s happy laughter. "You seem to be confused. I believe it is the woman who is supposed to say those words."

"I don’t care who says them, all I know is that now that I’ve found you again, I never intend to let you get away from me. "And there’s our daughter to think of. It’s about time she had a proper father." His last statement was more than Shinonn could handle. The laughter bubbled up, spilling out merrily. "‘Proper’ father? If you live to be a thousand years old, you will never spend a day being ‘proper’." His grin wrinkled the corners of his eyes. "I’ll just have to do the best I can," he drawled. "Who knows, I may surprise both of us." *** And surprise her he did. Shinonn stood at the door of the casino watching the crowd. There was a comfortable ebb and flow of customers which she had come to feel at home with. The sound of men’s voices rose and fell rhythmically. Lincoln stood in the midst of the action supervising the play like he had done it all his life. Since their marriage six years ago, life had been all she and Lincoln had dreamed of during those days in the mountain cabin. All and more. True, the dream of working together in the casino had been realized, but they had never dreamed of the joy they would know as they raised their two children. Jenna had grown into a beautiful child. Eight years old, her once curly black hair now hung in a long, straight glistening fall nearly to her waist. Like her mother, her eyes were blue and were outlined in a double row of black lashes, but they were distinctively almond shaped, giving her a slightly exotic appearance. Six months ago, Garrett Bradley had been born. With the birth of their son, Lincoln and Shinonn felt that their family was complete. Lincoln looked her way, always seeming to feel the presence when she entered a room. His eyes glowed with love as she walked toward him. Her silk petticoats rustled as she stepped through the crowd to speak briefly with her husband. He looked with pleasure at his wife, dressed in her customary crimson gown. Because the weather had been extremely hot for weeks, the dress was made of the coolest material the dressmaker could find, a feather light silk. Rather than sleeves, deep ruffles fell over the shoulders from the wide V neckline. The bodice, nipped in at her waist, which was incredibly small considering Garrett’s recent birth, smoothly outlined her full, womanly bosom. Yards and yards of the expensive material flowed softly to the floor. "Watch yourself tonight, sweetheart. This heat is likely to bring on some trouble. Even with the windows open and the fans going full force, it’s like an oven in here. Men get too uncomfortable, they get grouchy. They start drinking more than usual and the next thing you know, you’ve got a fight on your hands. "You’re not telling me anything new. Sofie’s already got a couple of extra bouncers working tonight. We’ll all have to keep our eyes open for trouble. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I have a job to do," she grinned at him as she

headed toward the Faro table. "It’s time to ‘buck the tiger’ gentlemen," she called out as she deftly shuffled the deck of cards. Shinonn was walking from the bar with a cool drink in her hand when she noticed how flushed her friend Sofie appeared. "Heat getting to you, Sofie? You look like you need a rest. Why don’t you go up to your room and lie down for a while?" "I was about to do just that. I’ve got one of the worst headaches of my life. I think I’ll take a dose of laudanum and see if I can’t get rid of it. I’m no good to anyone like this." "Good idea. Annie can take over for you tonight." "I already asked her. She’s a good girl, got a good head on her shoulders. I told her to come wake me if there’s any trouble." Shinonn gave her friend a quick hug then returned to the casino and took her place at the poker table. She could tell this was not going to be a particularly good night. The men seemed restless, ill at ease no doubt because of the relentless heat. The noise level had risen, angry voices carrying above the usual chatter. She would be glad to see this night end. Deeply involved in the game, Shinonn had no idea how late it was when she heard the first scream. She glanced around the room, looking for Linc, more annoyed than alarmed. She saw the top of his head as he worked his way through the crowd in the direction of the girls’ rooms upstairs. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if there would be trouble enough to cause her to shut down the game. Loud voices coming from the upstairs rooms made her decision for her. "Gentlemen, we seem to be having some kind of disturbance upstairs. It may be nothing more than an overly boisterous customer, but I suggest we call it a night." A couple of the heavier losers started to grumble, but quickly changed their minds as the sounds of shouting and screaming increased. Scooping up their money as quickly as possible, they were quickly scrambling for the nearest exit. Finally, from amongst the cacophony of voices, she heard the word "fire." Fear clenched at her heart as she felt panic spread through the crowd. "Lincoln! My God, where’s Lincoln?" She clawed her way through the throng of people, all pushing toward the exits. The wave of humanity forced her toward the double doors, away from the stairs she knew Lincoln had climbed minutes before. "No! I’ve got to get to Lincoln," she screamed, using every ounce of strength she possessed to challenge the surge of the crowd. At last, finding a slight opening in the mob, she burst through the throng of bodies. She raced toward the stairs. Gathering her skirts high, she took the steps two at a time. Reaching the top step, she nearly ran into Lincoln as he raced toward the stairs with one of Sofie’s girls slung over his shoulder. Arms dangling behind Lincoln’s back, she appeared to be unconscious.

"Get out of here!" he shouted. "It’s too far gone, fire’s out of control. I tried to put it out, but it was already too late." Looking past him, all Shinonn could see was thick, gray smoke. "But the other girls! We’ve got to get them out of here!" "I checked. Everyone else is out. Sally got too much smoke and passed out. Come on, let’s get out of here!" They stumbled down the stairs, choking on the thick, acrid smoke. Running by instinct toward the front door, they passed through one deserted room after another. A cheer went up from the crowd standing outside the burning building as Shinonn burst through the double doors. Lincoln followed a step behind her, the unconscious Sally still in his arms. A slight breeze caressed Shinonn’s flushed face. Her cheeks were reddened from the intense heat, her dress covered with soot and cinders. Lincoln gently lowered the unconscious girl to the ground. "Did everyone get out?" he called toward the crowd. "Is everyone accounted for?" "Sofie! I haven’t seen Sofie." Alex came running toward them. "Oh, dear Lord," Shinonn’s words were barely louder than a whisper. "She went up to her room. She was going to take some laudanum for her headache." Before she could stop him, Lincoln turned back toward the Bonanza House. She wanted to call him back, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she let Sofie die? But what if he was too late? It was too dangerous! "Lincoln!" In the nightmare, she heard her voice scream his name. *** In the days that followed the disastrous Bonanza House fire, the full facts of the incident came out. Against her better judgment, Sally had taken a drunken customer up to her room. He had come to the Bonanza House before, and was usually a good enough sort, but he could get rowdy if he’d had too much to drink. In his inebriated state, he had become verbally and then physically abusive. Ducking to avoid his blows, Sally had bumped into a crystal lamp, sending it crashing to the floor. In less than a second flames licked at the trail of kerosene that flowed from the broken lamp. It was her scream of terror at the sight of flames that Shinonn and Lincoln had first heard. Lincoln was nearly knocked over the railing by the drunken bully as he came crashing down the stairs. Regaining his footing, Lincoln bounded up the last few steps and raced down the hallway, following the trail of billowing smoke. As he passed closed doors, he rapped sharply on each, calling a warning to the occupants. Doors burst open, men and women in various stages of undress flowed from the rooms, all eager to escape the conflagration. By the time Linc had reached the burning room, the fire had already spread to the curtains and was beginning to creep across the ceiling. He pulled the curtains down and stomped on the flames. Grabbing

a nearby pitcher, he threw the water toward the ceiling, but realized immediately that it was too little and far too late. Already smoke poured from the seams of the walls. Flames had spread fully across the ceiling, sending down showers of embers. Glancing around the room, he found Sally crouching in fear behind the bed. The smoke was so thick he could barely see her. "Come on, Sally, we’ve got to get you of here," he called to her as he went to her aid. The heat was intense, the smoke bringing tears to his eyes. "Come on, Sally, let’s go." She shrank away from his outstretched arms. Blind panic burned in her eyes. Terrorized, she stuck out blindly, scratching Lincoln’s cheek with her long nails. "I’m not letting you stay here and die, Sally. Come on, let me help you." He finally got a firm grip on the girl’s wrists and began pulling her toward the door. Suddenly she sank to the floor in a leaden heap, the heat and lack of oxygen sapping the last of her strength. She lay unconscious at his feet. Relieved that she could no longer fight him, Lincoln scooped the girl up in his arms and ran for the stairs. Apparently Sally’s rescue had given him a false sense of omnipotence. Why else would he have returned to the burning building to make one more rescue attempt? The building was now nearly completely engulfed in flames. No one else would have taken such a risk. But he was gone before anyone could stop him. Apparently Sofie was either in a deep, drugged sleep, or was completely overcome by smoke when Lincoln reached her. Gathering her into his arms, he carried her to the top of her private staircase. As he rushed down the steps, the entire top floor suddenly collapsed, trapping them both amidst piles of flaming ruins. A huge beam broke loose and crushed Lincoln as he tried to shield Sofie from the falling debris. Shinonn’s only comfort lay in the fact that it had happened quickly. She prayed that death had come swiftly to her beloved husband and friend, Sofie. *** "You know I’m behind you all the way in this, Shinonn, but are you sure you’re mind’s made up? We had a good thing going here in Virginia City. People around here know us. Reno’s just an upstart town. I’d say you’re gambling on a real long-shot." Alex and Shinonn had come together to place flowers on the graves of the two people they had both loved so dearly. The burning desert heat had finally given way, leaving in its wake a cool breeze that played at the hem of Shinonn’s black gown. Virginia City’s boot hill lay little more than a mile from town. Nestled high on the edge of the hill, a spectacular panorama spread out before them. The breeze from the valley below felt fresh, clean. "I always seem to go for the long-shots, don’t I, Alex? But somehow they always manage to pay off.

"We’ve got to rebuild somewhere, but not in Virginia City. Oh, don’t give me that look. I know you think I’m trying to run away from memories, but that’s not true. These last years were the happiest years in my life. Believe me, I don’t want to forget one single minute of them. But we’ve got to be practical. I’ve got to do what’s best for Jenna and Garrett. "Virginia City’s on it’s way out. How many boom towns have you and I seen go bust since we came out to the gold fields?" "But Virginia City is different. There’s never been a place like this before. There’s more gold here than anyone ever imagined. And the silver! Don’t forget the silver." "I’m not forgetting anything, Alex. But no matter how much gold and silver there is, eventually it will all be gone. And then what? Why, they’re already closing down some of the biggest mines. And not one new mine has opened in over a year." "I still can’t figure why you want to go to Reno. It’s nothing more than a ranching town. Why, there’s not a gold mine within a day’s ride of it." "It’s not much now, but I’m willing to bet my last dollar that it’ll be a darned sight bigger than any gold camp ever was. Just think about it, Alex. Reno’s got the railroad now. All the gold coming out of Virginia City passes through it. And everything coming from the East Coast to the west rides through Reno too. Someday it’s going to be the hub of transportation from California to the east. It’s not going to dry up and blow away like nearly every gold camp has." Alex stood silently gazing at the two headstones. Finally, after several minutes of quiet, he said in hushed tone, "I feel so old all of a sudden. I don’t know if I have the strength left to start over again." "We have to, Alex. We can’t give up now. We can’t let the children down. They need us more now than they ever did before." Alex turned to face her. His eyes begged for her understanding. But she knew she couldn’t let him give up on life. "I need your help, Alex. Oh, I’ve got the money I’ll need to get started again. But I need so much more than money. I need your experience, your wisdom, and your friendship." "But it just won’t be the same without my Sofie." "No, it won’t be the same. We won’t even try to make it the same. For one thing, we’ll have to let the girls go. I have no inclination to run a bordello, couldn’t do it if I tried. But we can have the best damned casino the state of Nevada has ever seen." "Another Bonanza House, but without the girls?" "Yes, but bigger, grander. I want it to be the casino Lincoln always dreamed of. I’m going to make his dream come true." Alex seemed to stand a little straighter, his shoulders squared. She could see the gleam of her vision lighten his sad eyes. "It’ll be more than a monument to their memories, monuments are only cold, hard stone. Our casino will

be a celebration of two joyful, wonderful lives." "How about calling it the Crimson Palace, Shinonn? I can see it now, red carpets on the floor, plush, crimson drapes at the windows. Remember how much Sofie loved red?" "And shining brass wherever you look," Shinonn added. "And chandeliers, huge, brilliant chandeliers in every room." "And you in your most beautiful crimson dresses. Lincoln would love for you to always wear your red dresses." Her eyes misted over for a moment as she remembered how her husband had always looked at her when she entered a room dressed in her scarlet gowns. "Well, I don’t know about that. Those dresses belonged to a different woman, Alex. The statement they made doesn’t seem to matter much any more. I have something different to say now." She smiled through the mist of tears. "But I love your ideas about the new casino. And Lincoln would have loved the name, the Crimson Palace."

JENNA

1878

Chapter 19

Shinonn stood at the second floor railing and glanced down at the players below, her fingers nervously tracing the richly carved mahogany of the banister. Her eyes took in the impressive main room of the casino below her, trying to see it with Jenna’s eyes. It had been so long since Jenna had been here, would she remember any of it, she wondered? No casino in Reno was more elegantly appointed. The deep red carpeting was of a lush, thick wool. Red flocked paper covered the walls. Throughout the casino huge, gilded mirrors reflected thousands of lights from enormous gas chandeliers. Shinonn pictured how the restaurant would appear to Jenna. It too reflected the theme of red, gold and glittering lights. Centered on each snow-white linen tablecloth was a crystal vase with a single rose. Since it was now in the middle of June they’d had their pick of truly exquisite flowers. But even in the dead of winter, Shinonn insisted on the luxury of fresh flowers, not worrying about the expense of hot-house blooms. She and Maud took excessive pride in the casino’s dining room. When Shinonn moved her operations to Reno nearly ten years before, she had insisted that Maud and her boys come with her, offering the job of restaurant manager to the woman. At first Maud refused the offer, terrified she would fail miserably at the job. But after weeks of persuasion, Shinonn was finally able to convince the older woman that she was much more capable than she realized.

Within a year of their grand opening Maud proved Shinonn’s faith had been aptly placed. The restaurant ran smoothly, making a handsome profit each month. Maud took immense pride in seeing to it that no finer food was served in Reno, nor in a more pleasing manner. Indeed, the Crimson Palace’s dining room had earned such a fine reputation that on many Saturday nights, they were forced to turn customers away. Success had had a wonderful effect on Maud. Shinonn remembered with a smile the timid, mousy woman she had first met in that small Virginia City restaurant. As she had gained confidence in her own abilities, Maud had gradually changed into a brisk, very able business woman. Gone was the fear of failure. Instead, she radiated self esteem. It was only with her mentor, Shinonn, that she still retained her shyness. Maud could never think of her employer without feeling a sense of awe and eternal gratitude. Shinonn’s eyes lifted from the room below, rising until they looked at the picture which faced her from across the open gallery. Gray eyes seemed to glow with pride and love, returning her gaze. She stood transfixed, gazing at the full sized painting of her beloved Lincoln. He was elegantly dressed in formal attire, black tuxedo, pleated white shirt. Diamond studs sparkled from the front of his shirt. A huge, drooping mustache nearly covered his mouth. Would she ever forget the feel of those whiskers on her flesh, those tantalizing lips caressing her most secret places? How she longed to hear that slightly rasping, sensual voice just one more. "She’s coming home, my darling. Our Jenna’s coming home at last. Oh, how I wish you were here with me to greet her. I wouldn’t be so nervous if you were here by my side." She ran her hands nervously down her skirt, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. "Jenna’s been gone so long", she thought. "What will she think of her mother? Have I gotten so old that she will shrink from me? Will she think me ugly now that I’m beginning to wrinkle?" At forty-one, Shinonn was still a very striking woman. Still slim, with dramatic streaks of gray in her jet black hair, she had no idea how truly beautiful she still was. She wore her hair pulled back in a sleek chignon, which only served to accentuate the dramatic silvering of her hair and bring attention to her exquisite sapphire eyes. She wore no make-up, her thick, double row of lashes causing a far more dramatic effect than any amount of mascara could. After the death of her beloved husband, she had turned from her crimson gowns, choosing instead to wear only black. But, in memory of Lincoln’s preference to the color, she always managed to wear red somewhere in her costume. She might have a red silk flower tucked into her chignon, or draped a gauzy red flowered scarf across her shoulders. She had dozens of pairs of red gloves and red shoes. Today she clutched a red handkerchief in her nervous fingers. Glancing up at the sound of the door from Alex’s office closing, she smiled tentatively as he came to her side. "I can’t persuade you to come with us to the station?" "I want to, Alex, but I just can’t. I’m nervous enough as it is. I’m afraid I’d fall apart completely when she steps off that train and embarrass us both. Besides, there’s a million things to check on for the party." "Now you know Maud has everything under control Why, she’s even sending Clay and Ned with me,

said she doesn’t need them or anyone else getting in her way today." "Just the same, I feel more sure of myself here at the Crimson Palace. You go on and bring my baby home to me." "I’d better get moving then. Garrett is down there with the Turner boys, chomping on the bit to go get his sister." Alex, knowing from experience that once Shinonn made her mind up nothing would change it, left for the carriage that waited outside. It was only right that Maud’s boys would be at the station to greet Jenna, Shinonn thought. She remembered how close the three children had been before Jenna was sent away to school in Boston. Since they all three had to fight the stigma of their mothers’ working at the Crimson Palace, they had banded together to form a tight partnership. Poor little Jenna. How she had suffered her classmates taunts from the first day she started school, even in Virginia City. The other children’s smirks and cruel remarks tore at the child. Shinonn had hoped the teasing would stop when they moved to Reno, believing that by leaving behind the bordello they would also leave behind the ugly reputation that went with it. But she soon realized that children had an innate sense of where another child’s vulnerability lay. So, instead of calling her a whore’s daughter, they found other painful words to use. Clay and Ned fared little better than Jenna. Clay, bigger than most boys his age and several years older than Jenna and his brother, became their defender. It wasn’t long before the bullies learned to avoid him. Always quick tempered and not afraid to stand up to the toughest roughneck, hardly a day went by without him coming home completely disheveled from his latest fight. Shinonn remembered Jenna’s last day of school in Reno vividly. She had dressed her daughter in a pretty pink gingham frock. Over the dress she had tied a freshly starched white eyelet pinafore. She had brushed Jenna’s long, black hair until it glistened in the sunshine, then wove it into long braids. The finishing touch had been pink ribbons that matched the color of her dress perfectly. She remembered how pleased Jenna had been as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Pink was her very favorite color. What a sorry sight the poor child had been that afternoon. The three children had come straggling down the street, Jenna wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, her pretty pinafore smudged with dirt and torn at the waist. Clay’s arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Ned’s feet dragged, his head hung down, his eyes never leaving the ground, as he trailed along behind his brother and Jenna. And poor Clay! Although it was clear that he was Jenna’s protector, the pathetic child looked like he needed protection even more than she. His hair, always slightly unruly, was a mass of tangles. One shirt sleeve hung in tattered shreds. There were rips in his pants. Blood oozed from a cut on his cheek and it was obvious he would have a classic black eye come morning. It was Mei Jung who first saw the bedraggled trio as they walked toward their homes. "My babies, my babies! What happen?" she wailed as she came running to them.

Jenna’s tears flowed even harder. Clay’s expression grew darker yet. "I want my mama," Jenna cried through a hiccup. Mei Jung quickly herded the three unhappy children into the house. After washing dirty faces and fingers, she sat them all down to milk and cookies in the kitchen. Gradually she learned the story of Jenna’s most recent humiliation. After learning the full extent of Jenna’s ordeal, she ordered the children to stay in the house while she went to the Crimson Palace for Shinonn. She left the house, treading firmly, face set in a ferocious frown. "It just lucky Clay got to her when he did, misses. That boy, he try to do bad things to my baby." Shinonn’s face was white after she learned that the taunts had progressed from mere words, progressing to a physical attack on her daughter. "But she’s only ten years old! What kind of an animal would try touching a child like that?" "Jenna, she say the boy told her she should do what her own mama always did for men. He say that all she good for." Alex stood just inside the open office doorway, listening to Mei Jung’s account. "This can’t go on, Shinonn. We’ve got to protect her." "But how? She’s got to go to school, Alex." "Maybe if you went to the school and talked to the principal." "That pompous goat? If you’ll remember, he was one of the town leaders who tried to close down all the gambling halls in last year’s election, said they were all dens of iniquity, Satan’s tools, and those who ran them should be run out of town. Do you really expect any help from him?" "How about a private school then? Lord knows, we’ve got enough money to send her to the finest school in the country." Shinonn felt a stab of pain in her heart at the mere thought of sending her beautiful, loving daughter away. And yet, what alternative did she have? Could she ever justify selfishly keeping Jenna at her side, exposing her daily to unspeakable dangers and humiliation? "I know of a very fine school in Boston where my brother lives. No one would ever have to know what kind of business you’re in. She would have the chance to be like all the other girls for once in her life," Alex suggested. "Boston! I can’t even imagine where Boston is! How can I send my baby so far away?" "It’s just a suggestion, Shinonn. I suppose we could find a school in San Francisco. But I think she would be better off living further away from Reno than that. I’ve heard that the school in Boston offers the best possible education for young ladies. And I can’t think of a safer place for her."

"Impossible. Oh, Alex! What am I going to do?" "I go with her, misses. I take my baby to Boston, take good care of her. You never have to worry if Mei Jung with Jenna." Although her heart was breaking, Shinonn knew she had no other choice. Within a week all the arrangements had been made and Jenna was on her way to that strange, far away place, Boston, Massachusetts. And now, here it was, eight years later and Jenna was finally coming home. With one last, longing look at the portrait of her husband, Shinonn descended the stairs and headed toward the dining room. She knew she need not inspect Maud’s territory, yet she felt compelled to see for herself that each minute detail had been attended to. She stepped into the private, intimate room Maud had chosen for the welcome home party and saw that nothing could be improved upon. Maud fluttered around the table, straightening a knife here, refolding a napkin there. Her critical eye inspected the floral centerpiece for perhaps the hundredth time. "Everything looks beautiful, Maud. I’m sure she’ll be pleased." "Does she like roses, Mrs. Bradley? Do you think I should have used the white ones?" "No, pink is her favorite color. I’m sure she’ll love these." Maud beamed with pleasure. She knew how anxious her employer was that this party be perfect. Shinonn stood looking at the floral arrangement for a moment, leaning over to make a slight adjustment to one of the blooms. Pink used to be her favorite color. She wondered if it still was. A sudden sadness overcame her when she realized that she didn’t even know what her daughter’s favorite flower was. It wasn’t fair. All these years when they could have been together, lost because of other people’s evil minds. She thought of the many letters she had written Jenna over the years and those she had received. She treasured each and every one of them, yet they could never replace the time lost. Could they rebuild the relationship that they once had? When Jenna had first gone to Boston she had written nearly every day. At first her letters, written in her childish scrawl, were filled with her loneliness, her fears. But soon she began to tell of her new friends and adventures. She told of visiting the beautiful homes of her friends and how pleasant it was meeting their families. As she grew older, her childish scrawl was replaced with a neat, delicate handwriting. But as her penmanship improved, Shinonn noted a withdrawing of the intimacy she had come to expect from her daughter’s letters. Now the letters came once a week, always on the same day of the week. It became obvious to Shinonn that these letters were written more out of a sense of duty than love. Shinonn tried to bridge the gap she felt widening between herself and her daughter by writing chatty, humorous letters, relating amusing stories about the customers and employees of the casino. And she wrote of her longing for Jenna’s return.

For Jenna’s fifteenth birthday she had even suggested that she return for the summer, a suggestion that was quickly refused. Jenna had been invited to spend the summer with her best friend’s family at their beach house and wanted more than anything to accept. Reluctantly, Shinonn agreed, so long as Mei Jung would be there to chaperone. Now that the time of her daughter’s return had finally come, Shinonn was terrified that the girl who would step through that door would be a total stranger. How could mere words on scraps of paper keep their love alive? Shinonn noted with satisfaction that the table had been set for seven. When she had first begun planning this homecoming party Maud had balked at her own invitation. "You don’t have the kitchen help sitting down to your table, Mrs. Bradley. It ain’t right for me and my boys to be at Miss Jenna’s party." "Maud Turner! When will you ever get it out of your head that you don’t belong in the kitchen? You’re the best restaurant manager in the city and more than that, you and your boys are part of our family. Don’t you be trying to get out of your responsibilities with the people who love you. Now, no more arguments, hear?" "Thank you, Mrs. Bradley. We’ll be here if that’s what you want." "And will you ever stop calling me, ‘Mrs. Bradley’? Why can’t I be just plain Shinonn to you?" "I thank you for your kindness, but it just don’t seem right. I know you mean well, but I just can’t do it." "Mother! She’s here!" Garrett’s excited voice broke into their conversation. Suddenly the room was filled with happy young people. Ned and Garrett burst into the room first, laughing together as if they were enjoying the same joke. And then Shinonn heard her daughter’s laughter as she entered with Clay, her hand tucked into his arm. How beautiful she had become. And how tall! At five foot eight, she stood nearly two inches above her mother. Her long straight hair had been coiled neatly beneath a broad brimmed straw hat on which burgundy and blue flowers nestled in a froth of blue netting. She appeared completely grown in her tailored dress of burgundy, gray and blue stripes. The tailored bodice and gored skirt accentuated a perfectly formed female figure. A lovely young woman stood before Shinonn, but the mother saw only the child who had departed so many years before. The same blue eyes sparkled with excitement. The same sensitive mouth smiled. Shinonn forgot all her worries and threw her arms around her daughter, kissing her on both cheeks. As they embraced she suddenly felt the girl’s muscles tighten involuntarily as she pulled away from her mother ever so slightly. "It’s so good to see you again, mother. My, you’ve hardly changed at all, from what I can remember. Of course, the last picture you sent me is just a year or two old, isn’t it?" The words sounded strained, but very polite. The tone was one that might be used with a very distant relative. All we need is a little time to get to know each other again, Shinonn thought. Of course she feels strange with me, why wouldn’t she after all these years? That’s all she needs, a little time.

"Oh, are we having a party here at the casino?" Jenna looked around the room at the table, so beautifully set for dinner. "Have you moved back to the casino again?" There was no mistaking the note of disdain in her voice this time. Alex and Garrett exchanged quick glances in the hush that followed Jenna’s question. Shinonn’s lips tightened at the girl’s obvious disapproval of her surroundings. "No, Jenna, I haven’t moved back to the casino. Although I never regretted a minute of the years we spent living upstairs. All in all, I believe you will find the new house quite "acceptable." "Oh, please, I didn’t mean to upset you, mother. I suppose I’m just a trifle tired from the trip. But not too tired to enjoy Maud’s good food!" She smiled endearlingly at Clay’s and Ned’s mother. "I certainly have missed your famous ginger bread men, Maud." The room quickly filled with talk and laughter as waiters brought in tray after tray of delicious food. "I’m really quite anxious to see the new house. Tell me about it, mother." "I think you’ll like it. It’s about a mile out of town and overlooks the Truckee River. I suppose I was foolish, building such a big house at my age, but I admit I felt like indulging myself." "Do we have a carriage and driver? Being so far out of town might prove to be a hardship for me after I go to work." "Work? Why in the world would you be going to work?" "I’m an educated woman, mother. I can’t just sit at home in that big house of yours all by myself while you spend all your time here at the casino." "But I had hoped you would make friends with some of the young people here in town, maybe find yourself a nice young man and get married. There’s no need for you to work, dear." Jenna’s laugh sounded hard, brittle. "A nice young man, mother? Do you really think I’ll find a ‘nice young man’ in Reno who will be interested in marrying me? Can you imagine a society matron being thrilled to hear that her son is courting the daughter of the Crimson Palace’s owner? Or has the attitude of Reno’s upper class changed so much in the past eight years?" "Darling, you’re a beautiful, very wealthy young woman. I’m sure you won’t have any problems finding someone." "Just to set the record straight, I am not in the market. I’ll be damned if I’ll marry some man who finds me acceptable because I happen to be a wealthy heiress. No thank you, I’d much rather get a job. I’ve earned my librarian’s certificate and I’ll be proud to put it to good use." Jenna’s chin stuck out defiantly, reminding Shinonn of the many times she had seen that very expression on her daughter’s face when she had been a toddler. The girl’s eyes sparkled with defiance. She was secretly pleased to see the shock she had created by

using her favorite curse word. Shinonn sighed in resignation, realizing that when Jenna’s jaw was set like that she seldom changed her mind. "If that’s what you wish, I’ll see if I can’t talk to someone who might help you find suitable employment." "I’m sure I can handle it myself, mother. But thank you for your concern. Now, tell me all about school," she turned her attention to her brother. *** Shinonn leaned back wearily in her chair, idly stirring her cooling tea. Alex noted a darkening under her eyes, a tenseness in the set of her jaw. Long past midnight, their work day was finally coming to an end. Maud had just left after giving a report of the evening’s receipts. "How is Jenna settling in?" he asked, suspecting that at least part of Shinonn’s tenseness might be due to her newly returned daughter. "She’s fine, thank you, but, well, ... she’s certainly not the child she once was. Oh, I knew she was all grown up, but in my heart she was still that frightened little girl we put on the train eight years ago. I expected changes, but I just wasn’t prepared to see that look of contempt in her eyes." "Give her time. She’s just young and idealistic. And don’t forget, the life style she’s been living in Boston is one hundred percent different than what she sees here. She’s been hob-nobbing with society’s upper crust. But I have faith that after she’s been here awhile she’ll come to see that what a person is inside is much more important than where their money came from or who their great grandparents were." "I hope so. I certainly can’t change who I am this late in life." "And would you want to?" Shinonn chuckled, "No, I wouldn’t change one day of my life for all the tea in China. My life hasn’t been what you might call ‘conventional’, but it has been interesting!" Alex smiled gently, remembering all the good times of the past. "The irony of this whole situation is that here my daughter is, ashamed to have anything to do with the casino while I can hardly keep my son out of the place! At twelve he knows more about the business than I do." "He hasn’t passed you up yet, but watch your step, mama, he’s coming on strong!" Alex chuckled. "His quick mind, coupled with his fascination with the business, almost guarantee that he’ll make a huge success of it when he takes over. "If he wasn’t so young, I’d be happy to see him do it now. He’s got ambition and he’s not afraid to work. Yes sir, it’s going to be something to see when he finally gets his wish." "I never expected Jenna to take an active role in the casino, wouldn’t want her to. But it hurts to see that look in her eyes. As far as she’s concerned her ‘tainted’ roots are bound to ruin her life. Do you think she could be right, Alex? Have I made it nearly impossible for her to find happiness in a good marriage?"

"No, of course you haven’t. Any decent man would be proud to marry Jenna. She’s beautiful, she’s bright. Any man who would let his family’s high faluting society ideas about what’s decent keep him from marrying our girl wouldn’t be worth his salt anyway. No, she’ll find herself a good, decent man, just mark my words. "And then we can think about grooming Garrett to take over my job. I can’t tell you how anxious I am. I’m an old man. I’m ready to sit in the sun for awhile." "Well, come on, old man. I’d say we’ve both put in enough time here today. I’m here to tell you, this has been one long day. Sometimes I wonder how it is that the days manage to get longer as I get older."

Chapter 20

"Clay Turner, what a surprise to see you here at the library again. Funny, but you never struck me as the scholarly type before." Jenna, clutching a stack of books in her arms, peered down at Clay from her elevated perch on the library ladder. "You know I don’t care a whit about books. I just came by hoping for a glance at your ankles. Looks like my timing was perfect today," he added, grinning wickedly as he made a playful grab at the hem of her skirt. The action elicited a squeal of pretended indignation from Jenna. "You should be ashamed of yourself acting like that here. Don’t you know how a gentleman should behave in a library? Why, libraries are practically sacred institutions!" She tried to appear shocked, but it was obvious she thoroughly enjoyed his outrageous behavior. "Yes, and I come here every day to worship at the feet of the new assistant librarian." "Well, you’d better do your worshipping from afar, sir, or there won’t be an assistant librarian left to worship. If I get caught talking about anything other than books, I’ll be out of here before you know it. And believe me, nothing would please my mother more! Now git, before we get caught." "Shhhh! Don’t you know you’re only supposed to whisper in libraries?" He shook his head in mock dismay. "My, my, my, young lady. Whatever will we do with you?" "‘We’ will leave me alone while I work, is what ‘we’ will do with me! Now, go on. You’re going to get me in trouble." "I’ll go if you promise to come to lunch with me." "Maybe I’ve already had lunch," she teased. "Don’t add lying to your already growing list of sins. I happen to know for a fact that you go to lunch precisely at one o’clock. I also know that the head librarian takes her lunch between twelve and one, and that all this talk of yours about being caught talking to me is a crock, because your boss left the library twenty minutes ago."

"My, my, you are very well informed." Jenna sat down on the top of the ladder, drawing her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her ankles. She looked down at Clay from her lofty perch, her deep blue eyes sparkling with merriment. "I try to be, where you’re concerned. A fellow’s got to keep on his toes if he’s going to beat out all your other suitors." Jenna was pleased to see that Clay had put extra effort into his appearance for this meeting. His coal black hair, which usually tended to be unruly, had recently been cut and thoroughly brushed. His glistening face reflected a barber’s straight razor. The scent of the lotion the barber used after his shave drifted up to her, enticing her with its masculine fragrance. It pleased her no end that he had gone to so much trouble to impress her. "I suppose I should be flattered by all this attention?" "Well, I don’t go to this much trouble for most girls." With his good looks, Jenna doubted that Clay Turner ever lacked for female attention, or had to put himself out much to attain it. "My, I am impressed. So impressed that I do believe I shall accept your gracious invitation." "Well, it’s about time! I was beginning to wonder if you’re worth all the trouble." "Probably not, Clay Turner. But then, you’re the one who will have to decide that!" "I’ll meet you outside at one. But before I go, let’s have just one more peek at those ankles." He reached out and playfully lifted the hem of her skirt. "Why, you keep your hands to yourself, you rake!" she giggled as she slapped his hand away. "Keep behaving so outrageously and I’ll have to change my mind about lunch." "I’m going, I’m going. But just between us and these books, I bet you like a little fun more than you let on." Jenna watched Clay walk down the aisle, a cocky little swagger to his step. As he turned at the end of the row, he looked back at her and gave her a playful wink. The fact that her mother thoroughly disapproved of their relationship only increased Jenna’s interest in the eldest Turner brother. Shinonn may have had the power to force her to leave her friends in Boston and come back to this hell-hole, but by God, her mother would have absolutely no say in who she associated with. Personally, she found Clay both intriguing and frightening. He radiated a sense of danger that, rather than putting her off, drew her irresistibly to him. And, she had to admit, he was wickedly handsome with his dark good looks. She was mesmerized by his intense, brooding eyes, sensing a barely controlled passion lurking in their depths. Her instincts told her that Clay was a man who had been with hundreds of women, a man who, given the opportunity, could be a complete rascal. He was a man who would take what he wanted from a woman then walk away from her without a backward glance. And, most intriguing of all, she believed him to be a

man who had never been tamed. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Maybe a bit of taming was just what Mr. Clayton Turner needed! With sparkling eyes and a saucy tune on her lips, Jenna finished slipping the books back into place. *** "It beats the heck out of me why you would waste your time with Ned. You and I both know that he bores you to death will all his talk about his precious farm." "It’s not a farm, Clay, it’s a ranch. And maybe I don’t finding it boring." "Planning on being a farmer’s wife?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I can just see you at round-up time. How are you at branding beefs? Or are you just planning on ‘rustling up the vittles’?" "It seems I’ve found Clay’s weak spot", Jenna thought to herself with satisfaction. "All I have to do is mention that I’ve talked to his brother and Clay flies into a fit of jealousy!" It was a perfect late Spring day. Clay had hired a buggy to drive the two of them along the Truckee River to a secluded sandy stretch along the river shore. Jenna knew she looked adorable in her saucy sailor’s middy dress and pert straw hat with matching blue and white ribbons. "You should be ashamed of yourself, disparaging your own sweet brother like that," Jenna said in mock seriousness. A slow smile spread across Clay’s face, one corner of his mouth lifting slighter higher than the other. He looked at her a moment, and then, very deliberately, reached across the short space that separated them. Placing both hands firmly on her shoulders, he pulled her toward him, kissing her on the mouth, full and hard. She was quite breathless as he pulled away. "I’m not ashamed of anything. And I’m not worried about my brother. Ned’s looking for a girl. You’re a woman, Jenna. You’re going to be my woman, whether you know it or not." Jenna fought for composure. She would be damned if she would let him know that no man had ever kissed her like that before. She looked at him, trying with all her might to appear the aloof, experienced woman from the big city that she pretended to be. "We’ll see about that. No one tells me what I’m going to do. No one ever will. And, if you don’t mind, I’ll let you know if and when I want you to kiss me again. Who knows, maybe I never will." "Here, let me help you make up your mind." Suddenly changing tactics, Clay spoke in a low, seductive tone as he reached for her again. This time there was no mistaking his intention. She knew exactly what he had in mind, and she didn’t resist. She leaned into his embrace, enjoying the sensations of his hands as they slipped from her arms to her back. His fingers worked their way to her sides, edging their way toward her breasts. He pulled her closer, and

then closer still. Their lips melded together. Exciting, new sensations raced through her as she felt the tip of his tongue touching her lips. Fear and desire fought within her. She had been kissed by boys before, but they had been quick, dry, furtive kisses. This sweet torment was different. Clay Turner was no innocent boy. He was a man, with a man’s experiences, and a man’s desires. A shiver of excitement ran through her as she realized just how very dangerous a man he might be. His outrageous behavior both frightened and pleased her. Though his desires were even more powerful than she had anticipated, they actually fell right in with her plan. She intended to make Clay Turner want her as he had never wanted any other woman. In order to get him to do what she wished, she would need to tame him with her feminine wiles. Clay Turner wouldn’t know what hit him. When she put her mind to it, she was very good at getting exactly what she wanted. She had a fairly good idea what he wanted from her, but she was determined that he would not get it. At least not yet. "That" would happen when she was ready, and when it suited her purposes. But for now, why not enjoy these delicious sensations? She parted her lips, inviting his warm, moist tongue to tantalize her senses even more. As he deepened the kiss, her heart pounded wildly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her whole body shuddered at the thrill of his touch as his hands moved to cover her breasts. Though she loved the way his hands made her body come alive, she reluctantly forced herself to pull away. "I don’t think we should be doing this," she said, unable to control her trembling voice. "Oh, I think we should be doing this, and more." He breathed the words seductively near her ear. He then began covering her throat with light kisses as his hands continued their exploration. Her body pulsated as each new thrilling sensation flowed through her. Suddenly, forgetting her resolve to make him wait for her favors, she longed for more. Her breasts came alive under his fingers, the nipples tensing until they ached deliciously. She had a wild desire to open her blouse to his touch, to have his hot, moist tongue tease her flesh. A wicked craving nearly caused her to beg him to touch her where she had never been touched by a man before. She arched her body toward him, longing to feel the full length of his masculinity pressing against her. How she longed to feel his hands slide the full length of the inside of her thighs, to touch the hot, pulsating core of her femininity. A grown of desire escaped her lips when his hand left her breast. Don’t stop, she silently begged. But then she realized that he was reaching under her skirt, pushing her petticoat out of his way. The full realization of his intentions suddenly forced its way into her foggy brain. "No, Clay!" She jumped to her feet, managing to put several yards of space between them. "No, Clay?" He asked the question with a smirk on his face. "Perhaps I’m mistaken, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself every bit as much as I was." Her hands nervously smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt.

"Well, yes, but...oh, I just want to go home. Please, just take me home." Her face was scarlet with shame and unfulfilled passion. How could she have let the situation get so far out of hand? She was the one who would be in control of this relationship. Not him! How could she have allowed him to go so far? Although she was angry with him, she was absolutely furious with herself. With a shrug of defeat, he got to his feet. "Never let it be said that I didn’t give a lady what she wanted." The silent ride back to town was only a few miles, yet to Jenna, it seemed to take hours. Neither spoke as the miles inched by. Her self loathing consumed her, robbing her of the ability to make light of the situation. How stupid could she be? She could only hope her lapse of control would not destroy the plans she had so carefully made. Clay was the type of man who would lose interest in a woman once he had tasted her passion, she was certain of that. But she wasn’t finished with him! She would get what she wanted from him. She would get what she wanted from everyone. She would wave Clay Turner under her hypocritical mother’s nose yet. And giving into him so easily was not the way to it. Her fury trebled as she recalled their latest row over Jenna’s choice of companions. How dare Shinonn criticize Clay! Who the hell did she think she was anyway? Maybe Shinonn had forgotten her own beginnings, but Jenna knew what kind of woman her mother really was. Just where did she think she got the right to tell her own daughter how to live when she herself had gotten her start working in a whorehouse? Jenna would never forgive her mother for the humiliations she had suffered as a child because of Shinonn’s lurid past. Nor would she forget the constant fear she had endured all those years she had lived in Boston, worrying that someone would discover her secret and expose her to the ridicule of her friends. Jenna was so consumed by her own thoughts that she was barely aware of the man who sat beside her. Had she been less absorbed in her own deliberations, she might have seen the look of smug satisfaction on his face, the reflective glint of triumph in his eye. His cynical smile should have warned her that she was playing with a very dangerous fire. Unfortunately, the warning went unheeded. Only destiny would decide who would be burned in the flames she so blithely generated.

*** "How dare you interfere with my life like this!" Jenna shook with fury. "I can’t believe you would do such a thing, mother." "You don’t understand, darling. I just thought you’d enjoy seeing Ned’s ranch with him and, since you’re not working at the library this afternoon, I merely suggested to him that today would be a good day for it. He’s been wanting to show it to you for the longest time. And he’s such a nice boy, Jenna. I know you’ll just love him once you get to know him better." "Better? I hardly see how that would be possible, mother. Every time I turn around, there he is. Have all of those ‘accidental’ meetings been arranged by you also?" She ignored her mother’s hurt expression as she continued. "If you don’t mind, I prefer to choose my own friends."

"Ah, baby, please don’t take it that way. Ned is so anxious for you to get to know him better. And he is such a sweet boy. Please, give him this one chance." Jenna paced the room in firm, hard strides. "Ned has character, which is a great deal more than I can say for his brother. And yet the only man you have shown any interest in is Clay. Is it too much to ask for you to spend just a little time with Ned? Who knows, perhaps, if you gave yourself the opportunity, you might come to see him in a whole new light." "Because he’s such a ‘nice boy’? I’m sure I could find plenty of ‘nice’ boys, if I cared to look. But personally, I prefer Clay. He’s handsome, he’s fun, and he’s exciting. If you want to know the truth, Clay did not choose me, I chose him." "Darling, Ned is on his way here right now. I suppose I shouldn’t have agreed to your spending the afternoon with him without checking with you first, but I was so pleased when he asked that I simply couldn’t refuse him. He had so looked forward to your coming out to his ranch that I hate to see you disappoint him. He was always such a good friend to you before you went away to school. I simply assumed you would be pleased to spend the afternoon with him." "We were children then, mother. We’re adults now. That is, Clay and I are adults. Ned still seems like a boy to me." "He’s four years older than you, dear. I’d say that makes him a man. He has his own ranch and he’s doing very well for himself. He is a wonderful, wonderful person; someone I would be proud to have for a son-in-law." Jenna’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "This is too ridiculous! Will you ever give up? Oh, all right! Since it’s too late to head him off, I’ll go with him. But just this once. And while I’m with him I intend to let him know, very politely, but very firmly, that I am not in the least bit interested in him. Do you understand?" Shinonn looked at her daughter, realizing she had made a serious mistake in trying to interfere in Jenna’s life. But she was desperate to divert her daughter’s attention away from Clay Turner. Over the years she had had ample opportunity to assess the man, and he had always come up wanting. When Clay had been unable to keep a steady job, Maud had turned in desperation to her long time employers. As a favor to Maud, but against his better judgment, Alex hired Clay to work at the casino. His first job had been as a bouncer, but his vicious temper had surfaced much too often, so he had been trained instead as a card dealer. Clay had worked at the casino for over a year now, and what Shinonn saw of him had not been very impressive. She was more than certain that he was no fit company for her daughter. As he had begun to monopolize more and more of Jenna’s time, Shinonn had become desperate to intervene. Perhaps she had been wrong to interfere, but at least Ned would have this one opportunity to divert some of the girl’s attention away from his brother. Ned was punctual, just as Jenna had expected he would be. Looking up at him as he sat high on the

buggy’s seat, she had to admit that he was actually quite handsome. Although younger than his brother by two years, Ned was a much larger man. Years of toiling on the ranch had given him a strong, heavily muscled body and tanned his skin to a healthy brown. When he removed his hat the sun brought out glints of red in his chestnut colored hair. In spite of the fact that she was in not interested in him as a man, Jenna couldn’t help but notice once again that a gentleness seemed to emanate from him. The ranch was in Sierra Valley, several miles out of Reno, so it took well over an hour to reach it, although it seemed to Jenna that they traveled for hours through the arid land. The landscape, dotted here and there with scrub brush and an occasional lonely tree, was so drab it seemed little more than a desert to Jenna. Ridging the western horizon, the mountains rose majestically. But the track they traveled covered land that was flat, the grass a golden brown. The breeze, blowing across the flat valley, felt like a blast from a furnace. But when Ned turned the buggy into Sierra Valley Jenna couldn’t help being impressed by what she saw. Shaped like an oval bowl, the small valley was surrounded by the mighty Sierra Nevadas. Protected by the mountains from the harsher climate, the valley easily provided fresh food for the still flourishing mining camps nearby and the burgeoning city of Reno. Jenna noted several prosperous farms that lay scattered across the floor of the valley. "Over there", he pointed toward the very southern end of the valley, "is my ranch. There, you can just see the house. It’s the one with all the trees." Pride radiated from Ned as he drove the buggy along the road to his ranch. The closer they came to it, the more his chest seemed to swell. "If it hadn’t been for your ma and Alex, I wouldn’t have been able to buy this place. They lent me the money to buy it last year. I plan to have the loan paid back within five years. After that I’ll buy that parcel just to the north of it." "It’s very nice, Ned. But how in the world did you ever end up way out here?" "I came out here to work one summer while I was still in school. I really fell in love with ranching. When I decided that ranching was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life I couldn’t see much reason to go back to school. It wasn’t easy, but I finally talked Ma into letting me quit school and work here full time. When old man Carlson decided to sell the place I begged him to let me buy it. That’s when your mother and Alex came along with the offer to help. Someday I’ll make them proud that they backed me." Ned had every right to be proud. Try as she might, Jenna could find nothing to criticize wherever she looked. The ranch house, facing north and nestling beside a sparkling brook, was picture-book pretty. It was a small house, but was neatly built and well maintained. Dressed up in a fresh coat of white paint, it had a porch that ran across the front and along the western side. Two rose bushes bloomed gaily on either side of the front entrance. "I’ll add onto the house later when the need arises, but for now this is plenty big enough for me." He blushed when he thought of the reason why he might someday need to add more rooms. His obvious embarrassment made Jenna painfully aware that Ned fancied himself to be in love with her and that he envisioned her living there with him and their children. This was going to be more difficult than she had expected, she realized in a sudden moment of compassion. But the sooner she set him straight, the better off they would both be. They stood together on the front porch, gazing at the panorama before them. Fields of dark green alfalfa

stretched away from them toward the gently sloping foothills. In the distance Jenna could see a herd of fat cattle grazing peacefully on the lush green grass. The sky was a vast expanse of the softest blue Jenna had ever seen. A few billowy clouds crested the top of the mountain range to the west. "I got up early this morning and went fishing so we could have trout for lunch today. You may not believe me, but last summer I caught a twenty-two inch German brown in that little stream we just passed. You do like to fish, don’t you?" he asked. Jenna tried to keep her nose from turning up at the very thought of actually touching any slimy fish. Oh, well, fresh trout could be tasty if it was prepared correctly. However, she didn’t hold out much hope for any gastitorial delicacy out here, so far from civilization, certainly not like the food she had come to expect from the fine restaurants she had dined at in Boston. Her mouth watered when she remembered the wonderful chowders she had feasted upon there. The crabs, the lobsters. She remembered the wonderful dinner parties she had attended with her friends. Oh, how she missed them and the good times they had shared before she had been forced to return to this hateful place! Why couldn’t her mother understand that she could no longer live such a rustic life? "You must get lonely out here," Jenna said as she gazed at the open fields. She peered off into the distance at the grazing cattle. "It’s all very pretty, but so isolated." "Lonely? Can’t say as I can remember ever being lonely." The very thought seemed odd to him. "There’s always more than enough to do. And when I finish my chores, it feels great to just sit outside and relax awhile. I like to sit here and look up at the sky, watch the cattle and the deer that come down to the valley to feed at sunset. Or I might fish a little. No, I don’t recall ever being lonely." "Well, I would be," she stated in a very definite tone. "I wouldn’t last a week out here. I know I wouldn’t." Ned’s face fell. He felt as if someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water on him. He began to suspect that no matter how much he loved Jenna, she might never want to live in his world. It was hard for him to comprehend that anyone could live here and not love it as much as he did, but as much as he loved his ranch, as much as he treasured each day he spent there, he suddenly realized that she might hate the very thought of it. "We’re so very different, Ned. You’ve got to understand. I’ve just spent eight of the most important years of my life living in an exciting city, mingling with wealthy, important people. How can I be expected to leave that all behind as if it never happened? "My friends came from the most prominent families in Boston. Dinner parties, evenings at the theater, summers on the coast were simply taken for granted. Everyone I knew lived in beautiful mansions. "And they all had perfectly trained servants. Can you imagine how I felt having to pass off a Chinese woman as my maid? I would have died on the spot if they had ever found out that my mother hired her away from a bordello! My friends had real maids, real butlers. Her outburst took Ned by surprise. He had never really thought much about what Jenna’s life had been like for all those years. Hearing how she felt about Boston and all her rich friends there, she seemed different to him now. Not that he loved her any the less, but suddenly she seemed even more precious,

more fragile. "I never let anyone in Boston know that my mother runs a casino," she continued. For some reason she had to make Ned understand her longing for all she had left behind in Boston, and why she loathed everything remotely connected to her mother. "My friend’s mothers were all such ladies. They were always being mentioned in the society pages. You can’t imagine how terrified I was that someone would find out that the fine, upstanding family I had invented was only a figment of my imagination." "You don’t really know your mother as well as you think, Jenna. She’s one of the finest women I’ve ever known. I doubt if any of your ‘fine ladies’ in Boston could hold a candle to her." "I knew you wouldn’t understand. How could you? You’ve probably never ventured over a hundred miles from here." "Never have, and never needed to." "There! It’s just as I suspected. You can’t possibly understand how I feel." "All right, I’ll give you that one. I’m not well traveled, or well educated. But tell me this, if your ma is such a terrible person, how it is that your brother Garrett is so content with his life? I’ve never heard one word of complaint from him. Not about your ma or about the casino." "Of course he doesn’t complain. This is all he knows. His big dream is to finally be allowed to work at the Crimson Palace." Leaning against the railing, she looked pensively to the distant mountains. Ned stood by her side, wanting with all his heart to reach out to her with understanding and comfort, but he held back, sensing she would resent any overtures he might make. "To be honest with you, Ned, I envy both of you. Garrett loves the casino. Someday mother will be only too happy to welcome him into the business. And you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted right here in this beautiful valley. It must be wonderful to know what it is you want out of life and then to be able to obtain it at such an early age. "But I can’t even imagine what my life will be. Oh, I know what I don’t want it to be, but I haven’t a clue to how I’ll ever find true happiness." When she turned to face him his heart nearly broke. Unshed tears glistened in her beautiful blue eyes. "You can’t begin to imagine how frustrating it is being a woman. If I were a man I would just take the first train heading east and make of life what I wanted. But, being a woman, I can’t do that. Oh, no, I have to wait for some man to come along to take care of me. No respectable woman lives alone in cities like Boston. What would people think? Who would be my guardian?" Sarcasm dripped from her words. "But a man who did the very same thing would be perfectly accepted. Now you tell me, is that fair?" His heart reached out to her, but no words of comfort came to his lips. His own hopes lay shattered. The pain in her eyes told him more than words ever could that she would never share his life - that she could never think of him as anything more than a friend. He realized that life with him in his peaceful valley would kill the fiery spirit that he loved so very much.

Chapter 21

"I must say, this is an improvement over the Crimson Palace," Jenna declared as she surveyed the interior of Reno’s most elegant restaurant. "This place is a dump compared to the restaurants I’ve been to in San Francisco," Clay replied. "Is that where you mysteriously disappeared to all last week? You know you’re lucky to still have a job, just taking off like that." Clay shrugged his shoulders to show his lack of interest in his job at the Crimson Palace. "When this deal I’m working on comes through I’ll never need to work in any sleazy casino again. I only went to work there in the first place so I could make contact with some of the high rollers. It was only the first step in my plan." Looking at him with curiosity, Jenna swirled the contents of her champagne glass, a tiny smile playing on her lips. "Your plan, hmmm? And just how does this plan work?" She was dying to learn if she was included in his plans, but she would choke before she let him know her thoughts. "That, my dear, is a secret. Only a fool talks about a deal before it’s done. But I will tell you this much, in a few days I’ll have enough money to blow this town’s dust off my boots forever." "You’re leaving Reno?" Somehow the thought had never entered her mind. If he left, her own plans went with him! "So fast it’ll make your head spin. There’s nothing in this hick town for a man like me. I sure don’t intend to spend the rest of my life dealing cards in that two-bit casino." "No, of course not. I always felt you could do better than that." "I don’t have to leave alone, Jenna. I might find room for you to come along," he said, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. If Jenna had been more experienced she might have realized that the look in his eyes was one of calculated cynicism, not amusement. "To San Franciso? I...I don’t know. I’d always thought when I left Reno it would be to return to Boston. I’ve never given much thought to San Francisco." "Well, that’s the offer, sweetheart. Boston’s got nothing for me, but I can live like a king in Frisco." "I don’t know, San Francisco..." "You talk as if Boston was the center of the universe. There’s nowhere on earth that holds a candle to Frisco. Why, the most famous actors from all over the world have performed there. Its restaurants are world famous. And I bet you’ve never seen more beautiful mansions then the ones they’ve got there, not even in your precious Boston. Where do you think all those men who made their millions in Virginia City live? You can bet money none

of them took their bucks to Boston. No siree, they built themselves mansions in a place called Nob Hill, right there in San Francisco." "And I suppose with your plan, you’ll have enough money to join them in Nob Hill?" "On, not in, and you bet you’re life I will." "That must be some deal you’re working on." "Logical projection, Jenna, logical project. I never said this one particular deal was going to make me a rich man. But it’ll put me in a position for the next one, and the next one. A year, maybe less, and I’ll be up on that hill, rubbing elbows with the best of them. "And you can be there with me, Jenna. What do you say to that?" She looked at him with calculating eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Perhaps her "plan" wouldn’t die with Clay’s leaving, after all. Maybe it was just getting better! "You are serious about this, aren’t you? You’re not just teasing me?" "I’ve never been more serious in my life." "I’ll have to think about it, but I’ll tell you right now, it certainly does have its appeal." "Don’t take too long making up your mind. A week, two at the most, and I’m out of this berg for good, with you or without you." His tone held just a hint of a threat, but Jenna was too deep in her own thoughts to notice. *** Trying to conceal her secret during the next few days took every ounce of self control Jenna possessed. Although she had been inclined to accept Clay’s offer on the spot, a few niggling doubts held her back. It was those doubts which plagued her as she went about her duties at the library and during the few hours each day she spent with Mei Jung and her mother. Although Clay was wonderfully handsome and she had never met a more fascinating man, she found herself wondering if she actually loved him. At one moment she was certain the answer to that question was a definite yes, but then, a moment later, she would have had to answer in the negative. She thought about the way he made her feel when he kissed her, the delicious sensations she experienced when he dared to touch her where no gentleman would even consider touching a lady. When she thought of him like that, her body responded with a memory of its own, tingling with the desire for an even greater intimacy. But something in the back of her mind kept her from making a definite commitment to his proposal. Was this truly what love was all about? Would he always make her body come alive with his touch? Did he truly love her? But, oh, how she longed to leave this hateful city! To be able to put the memories it evoked behind her forever. She longed to mingle with fashionable society again, proudly, with her head held high, not afraid that someone might recognize who she was and bring her up to ridicule.

She spent hours alone in her room, dreaming of what life would be like in San Franciso if she went away with Clay. Would they ever have one of those mansions on Nob Hill? Could his secret plans truly be that lucrative? Jenna’s preoccupation did not pass by Shinonn unnoticed. Although she couldn’t be certain that her daughter’s recent reflective mood was caused by Clay, she had a very uncomfortable feeling it might. What could the man be up to now, she wondered? Could it be that he was forcing the relationship even further than Shinonn had already feared? In her concern, she decided to speak to the one person she could talk to frankly about her daughter, Alex, so she was more than a little relieved when he brought up the subject himself one afternoon. "I haven’t seen much of Jenna lately," he mentioned. "She doing all right?" "I haven’t seen much of her myself the last few days, and, frankly, I’m getting a little worried about it. Of course, her job at the library keeps her away from the house quite a bit, but when she’s not working I think she’s seeing Clay Turner. When she is at home, she spends nearly all her time up in her room avoiding me." "Hmmm, well I suppose a girl her age needs a little time to herself." "I suppose, but I’m hardly an expert on the subject of girl’s her age, am I? By the time I was her age I’d been on my own for nearly a year. If you’ll remember, I was eighteen when I joined up with the wagon train." A warm smile creased Alex’s weathered old face. "You were really something then. And all that time everyone thought you were just a scruffy young fellow off looking for adventure. You sure fooled us all." "Oh, I don’t think I fooled Sofie all that much. When I look back on it, I realize that she didn’t seem all that surprised when I finally confessed my ‘great sin’." Alex laughed gleefully at the memory. "We did have some fun, didn’t we? I tell you, being with Sofie, and then when you came along, those were the best years of my life. Oh, life is good here at the Palace, darned good, but nothing will ever beat those early days with Sofie." "I’d give a lot to have her here now. Maybe she could talk some sense into Jenna. If I say one word against Clay, she gets her back up something terrible. Every time I mention his name all it does is make him more appealing to her." "Why don’t I give it a try? Maybe she’ll listen to a man, even if she won’t listen to her mother." Welcome relief washed over Shinonn. "I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it, Alex. Maybe you can reason with her, even if I can’t. Yes, I do think she might listen to you."

*** "Please don’t tell me you’ve come to talk to me about the virtues of Ned Turner, Uncle Alex. It would be just like mother to get you to do her dirty work." Alex chuckled softly as he stirred his iced tea. "Well, I can think of worse people to talk about than Ned, but no, I know better than to try to talk a young woman into falling in love with a man I’d chosen for her. No, although I think the world of Ned, I didn’t come to talk to you about him." The two of them sat together on the shaded porch of Shinonn’s huge house. It was a nice, early summer afternoon, the dry, high desert air made pleasurable by a light breeze coming from the mountains to the west. Jenna hadn’t been fooled for one minute when Alex surprisingly dropped by for a visit. She knew that he would not likely have come by uninvited unless he had something on his mind. He stirred his tea once more, obviously reluctant to broach the subject that weighed heavily on his mind. "I came here to talk to you about Clay." She felt her body stiffen. Why couldn’t they all just leave her alone? "I know what you’re going to say - nobody knows him like you do, and, most assuredly, nobody understands him. I’m sure he’s convinced you that everyone is against him." "Well, you are, aren’t you?" "Jenna, I wish it were as simple as that, but it isn’t. You deserve the very best. You’re a beautiful, charming young lady. You have everything to offer a man. But Jenna, you have got to believe me when I tell you that Clay Turner is not that man." "Uncle Alex, how can you come here and talk to me like this? You don’t really know him. Oh, you think you do, because he works for you, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’s like down deep where it really counts." "I know him like you never will, hopefully. The man is a liar and a cheat. He can’t be trusted. I should have fired him many times, and I would have it if hadn’t been for his mother. As a matter of fact, if it hadn’t been for Maud, I never would have hired the man in the first place. "But what worries me the most where you’re concerned is that down deep Clay Turner is cruel. He’s the sort of man who enjoys other people’s pain. Jenna, you can’t possibly trust your life to a man like him." Jenna jumped to her feet, anger radiating from her in hot waves. "Mother did send you, didn’t she?" "‘Send’ is not the word. I came here because I hoped I could help. But Shinonn is concerned for you, Jenna, as well she should be. Nobody will ever love you as much as she does."

"Oh, what does she know, anyway? She expects me to marry a man who doesn’t exist. She wants a husband for me who would never choose me for his wife. And do you know why he wouldn’t? Because of her! She’s put me in a position where I will always be in a cage. Don’t you understand? Clay’s my way out!" "Jenna, Clay will only put you in a cage worse than any you could dream of. A cage of misery. Please promise me you will at least think about what I’ve said." "I don’t think so, Alex. Right now I’m so angry with you for coming here like this that I can’t think straight." "I’m only here because I love you, Jenna. All I ask is that you at least think about what I’ve said. Think about the promises he has made to you, and what he’s done with his own life. Do you really believe he will be able to support you? That he will stay by you if times get tough?" Jenna felt tears smarting behind her eyelids. Tears of anger and frustration, and deep down, where she didn’t want to look, fear. Why couldn’t anybody understand? Why couldn’t anybody be on her side for a change? "I won’t belabor my point. I just came here hoping to perhaps show you a side of Clay that he may have kept hidden from you, to give you some enlightenment into his character that you might not have seen. I’ve seen him treat people like I would never want you to be treated." "But he loves me. He would never be cruel to me." "That may be true. I don’t know. I’ve never known Clay Turner to love anyone but himself. If the truth were told, I don’t believe he loves himself all that much. "I’ve never known anyone so full of anger and venom. He hates your mother because he believes she forced Maud into working at the bordello. But the truth is, Shinonn has never forced anyone to do anything. The fact is, she rescued Maud Turner when her husband turned his back on her and the boys." "Oh, I’m sure mother sees it that way," she answered petulantly. "Talk to Maud. Talk to his own mother. And not just about the past. Talk to her about Clay. She’ll set you straight." "Oh, I have no doubt that. I’m sure that Ned is her golden child, while Clay is nothing but a burden to her. Haven’t you noticed that everybody loves Ned, but nobody is even kind to Clay? No wonder he’s so angry." "Will you promise to at least think about what we’ve talked about today?" Jenna knew she should be angry, but she could see the concern in Alex’s eyes. She knew that he only had her well-being at heart, even though he was mistaken about Clay. "I’ll think about it, Uncle Alex, I promise I will. But please, don’t expect me to change my mind. I know what I feel and I know what Clay feels. I just wish everyone else would try to understand our feelings." "Just think about it, that’s all I ask."

"I will. I promise I will." Her voice broke on the last words. "And thank you for coming. I may not agree with what you say, but I do appreciate the fact that you love me enough to be here." She gave him a quick hug, then turned and walked quickly into the house before he could see the tears in her eyes. She nearly collided with Mei Jung in the entry hall as she rushed blindly to her room. "You were listening to our conversation, weren’t you?" she accused. "You’re against us too! You’re all against us!" As she ran up the stairs she failed to see the look of compassion in the Chinese woman’s eyes. *** "You see? It’s just like I’ve been telling you all along, they’re all against me. If they had their way, I’d never have a damned thing. And they’ll do whatever it takes to keep me from having you." Clay held Jenna in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder while he stroked the long, silken strands of her hair. He looked over her shoulder at the darkened mansion above them. All his hate and anger were momentarily directed at the occupants of the house. "You aren’t upset that I sent you that note, are you? I know you’re supposed to be working, but I just had to see you." "Of course I’m not angry with you, sweetheart. I’m glad you came to me. I’m just damned frustrated that we have to sneak around like this. You can damn well believe that if it was Ned you were interested in, you wouldn’t have to sneak out in the middle of the night to see him. They’d be only too happy to see you with him. But not me. Oh, no, if you want to see me you have to sneak out of the house and come down here to meet me at the river where no one can hear us." "Well, mother never actually came right out and said that I wasn’t allowed to see you, she knows better than to do that. But every time we meet, she puts more and more pressure on me to forget you. I just don’t know how much more of this I can take." Clay pulled her even closer. The thin rays of the moon illuminated a gleam of pleasure in his eyes as he lowered his head and began nuzzling her neck. "Then come away with me, Jenna. Don’t let them run your life for you. Come with me to San Francisco," his voice crooned seductively. She groaned with pleasure at the feel of his lips on her throat. Warm, exciting sensations spread throughout her body as his hands cupped her breasts. "When?" she managed to ask, her voice husky with desire. A triumphant smile illuminated his face.

Chapter 22

Jenna stood in the railway station attempting to look inconspicuous, an impossible feat for such a lovely young woman. The statuesque brunette looked quite striking in her navy blue and white striped dress. The snugly fitting high necked bodice came to a figure trimming V at the waist and was edged with navy blue piping, which added a crispness to the outfit. Her large full-brimmed straw hat balanced precariously atop the softly twisted knot of hair she had laboriously fashioned at the crown of her head. White silk roses crowded for space on its brim. In her hand she carried a white shawl made of the sheerest wool, that she could drape over the hat to help fend off the soot from the train. With nervous fingers she smoothed away imagined wrinkles from her skirt. She stood alone, frantically searching the crowd for her first sight of Clay. He had been adamant in his insistence that they must not be seen together at the station for fear that someone who knew Shinonn would report sighting them and they would be stopped. She glanced around the busy station, terrified she would be recognized. But as the moments passed and Clay had still Clay not appeared, a new fear niggled its way into her consciousness. What would she do if Clay didn’t come? Could he have changed his mind? The moment of the train’s departure grew closer and closer. Would he never arrive? Would she be left standing in the station like an idiot, watching the train pull away without them? She clutched her ticket in a sweaty hand, unconsciously turning it this way and that. Where could he be? Why wasn’t he here? Surely he should be here by now! Against her will she thought back to Alex’s warning. Could this all be a cruel, heartless joke? She had done just as he had instructed. She had told Mei Jung that she would be in town shopping and not to expect her back for several hours. As she had several items she wished to purchase she would not be back in time for lunch. Shinonn had worked late the night before, so she was still asleep when Jenna left the house. Hopefully, the train would be well on its way to San Francisco before her mother awoke. If all went well, no one would be concerned about her absence until much later in the day. Before taking her leave, she had stood in the middle of the room gazing at the possessions she must leave behind. She hated that she must leave them, but Clay had insisted that she come with only the clothes on her back and whatever she could carry in her handbag. She must give no clue that she was going anywhere but to town for a day of shopping. In her handbag she carried all she had left of the money she had earned at the library, along with the few jewels she possessed. Other than that, she carried absolutely nothing to remind her of her life in Reno, Nevada. Ah, finally, just as the train began to make the huffing and puffing noises of imminent departure, Clay pushed his way through the milling throng. He barely glanced her way as he passed her and boarded the train. She sighed a huge sigh of relief as she too boarded the train, choosing a separate car from that which Clay had entered. Her heart pounded with excitement as she found a seat next to the window. As she glanced out at the passing people, a man, rushing past in his haste to board the train looked directly into her eyes. She quickly averted her face, suddenly feeling totally exposed. How stupid could she have been to sit where

she could be seen so easily? What if someone who knew her mother happened to glance in and recognize her? Panic washed over her, nearly causing her to bolt from her seat. She wondered frantically whether she should move, but decided that to do so now would only attract more attention to herself. Instead, she forced herself to pull her frazzled nerves together and turned her head away from the window. Although the words were nothing but a blur, she pretended to read the small book she had carried in her handbag. A man, dressed in a cheap, salesman’s suit came toward her down the isle. He paused as if he might sit in the unoccupied seat next to her. She looked up, giving him a withering look of contempt. One glance into her cold, disapproving eyes was all he needed to send him on his way. Next came a woman with two small, noisy children. They chose the seats directly in front of Jenna. With the two children fighting over who would sit by the window and who had stolen who’s toy, it took them an eternity to settle down. A moment of silence settled over the trio in front of her when suddenly up popped the head of the eldest child, a boy of about seven. He peered at her intently from across the back of his seat. The last thing she intended to do was to become involved with a brat of a boy! She studiously ignored his attention, pretending to be completely involved in reading her book. Nerves stretched to the absolute breaking point, her stomach began to roil,... churning, churning. She wasn’t certain which emotion was the greater, fear or excitement. For just the briefest moment she questioned whether the fear that held her in its tight grip was brought on by the thought of being stopped, or of not being stopped. Quite suddenly her stomach lurched uncomfortably. She prayed frantically that the train would leave quickly, before her taut nerves caused her to be sick. Just when she felt she could not stand the tension one more moment, the train lurched forward and then stopped. It lurched again. Slowly, it began to edge out of the station, picking up speed as it rolled through the outskirts of Reno, heading west. She was light-headed with relief. They were on their way! She was putting Reno behind her forever. San Francisco lured her with its siren song. Her heart began beating wildly. She wanted to laugh aloud. The train was climbing the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas before Clay finally dropped into the empty seat beside her. Without saying a word, they exchanged grins. He reached over for her hand, giving it a squeeze. He carefully placed a large leather satchel on the floor between his feet, taking great care to place it just so, handling it almost reverently. A slight frown crossed Jenna’s face as she recalled how insistent he had been that she bring nothing with her. Why did he get to bring his things with him while she had to leave hers behind? "I thought we weren’t going to bring any of our belongings with us," Jenna said as her eyes rested pointedly on the valise. Clay’s answering look chilled her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing his eyes look so cold. "You’d better be real happy I brought this along. Without it, we wouldn’t stand a chance of making it in San Francisco. From here on out, you just let me do the thinking for the both of us, all right?"

She was more than a little put off by Clay’s attitude, but attributed it to the tension they were both experiencing. She eyed the satchel with curiosity. What could be so important, she wondered? She contemplated various possibilities, finally deciding that it must contain important papers he would need in his new position in San Francisco. Even though she realized that the contents were of vast importance to Clay, Jenna was still amazed when he actually took it with him when he went to the washroom. Surely he could trust her to guard it for those brief moments! When they went to the dining car he carried the valise, holding it with a vise-like grip. And when he closed his eyes to nap, he cradled the valise on his lap, wrapping his arms around it securely. She was dying for just one glimpse into the infernal thing! With each turning of the wheels her curiosity increased, until she could think of nothing else. But her frustration would know no relief. As much as she wanted to see its contents, it was very obvious Clay had no intention of allowing it. *** Because they still faced a ferry ride across the San Francisco bay at the end of the railroad line, she was not all that surprised that no one had come to greet them when they stepped off the train. But she was somewhat disappointed to find that there was no greeting party at the ferry terminus in San Franciso. As important as Clay’s new position must be, you would think that his employers would have sent someone to meet them! She looked at Clay, expecting him to be upset by such an obvious breech of etiquette, but his face showed no emotion. Absorbed in his own thoughts, he not only appeared unaware that they had been slighted, he barely seemed to notice that she stood waiting expectantly beside him. Shrugging off her disappointment, she felt her pulse race with excitement at the thought of their impending marriage. She wondered how soon the ceremony could be performed and where they would live. Would they stay at one of the sumptuous hotels he had described so eloquently? Would they marry today, or would Clay insist on waiting until a proper ceremony could be planned? Rather than hailing a cab, as she had expected he would, he directed her to an odd looking conveyance, which he called a cable car. Soon she was wedge beside him on the wooden bench. Between them was the ever present valise. With bells clanging, they were soon climbing a precariously steep hill. Her heart rose to her throat, sure that they would tumble to the bottom at any moment, but somehow the little car held to the track. "We’ll stay where I stayed when I was here last time," he told her. "It’s not the swankiest place in town, but it will do until we get ourselves settled. They know me there; I’m sure they’ll find us a room even though I didn’t have time to make reservations." Her sudden flash of disappointment was quickly dispelled. She had been looking forward to spending her first night in town in a luxurious hotel suite. But then, it would only be temporary, they would be living in the splendor he had promised in no time at all. It was only that he hadn’t had the time to get established. Why, most likely they would check into an elegant hotel first thing the next morning, and he would take her shopping for the beautiful clothes she craved. Clay stood abruptly when the cable car pulled to a stop at the crest of a hill and reached for Jenna’s hand.

"This is where we get off," he said as he stepped to the ground, pulling her along with him. Looking about, she saw nothing that even resembled a hotel. The neighborhood was crowded with narrow, three and four storied homes, none of them in the best of condition. She had never imagined that houses could be built so close together, many of them separated by a mere inch of space. Not bothering to look back to see if Jenna followed, Clay started walking up a side street. Her heart began to beat a little faster as she quickened her steps to catch up with him. Something in his manner caused an icy chill to race through her. She pushed away the niggling sense of doom that had been slowly creeping into her consciousness. They walked three steep city blocks before Clay finally stopped at an especially run down house. A hand lettered sign in a downstairs window announced that it was a boarding house. Jenna glanced at the peeling, powdery blue paint, the dirt smeared windows, and the sagging porch. Weeds forced their way into crevices along the walk-way leading to the front door. It’s a joke, she thought, nervous laughter rising in her throat. Of course! Clay knows I would never be caught dead in a place like this. How like him to carry the joke to its limit by actually mounting the steps and acting as if he would really ring the bell. Her heart sank as Clay reached up to ring the bell. Surely he doesn’t intend to stay here, she thought in dismay. The woman who came to the door appeared to be in about the same state of repair as the house. It was difficult to guess her age; she might have been anywhere from forty-five to sixty. Her skin, course and sagging, had a yellowish, unhealthy tint. Her gray-streaked brown hair had been twisted into a loose knot at the top of her head, with stringy wisps of it hanging lankly around her face. By a careful scrutiny of her apron, one could guess the contents of at least a weeks’ worth of meals. Jenna noticed damp spots on it where the woman had recently wiped away the residue of the food she had been preparing when the door bell had interrupted her work. "Back again?" the woman asked in a gravely voice. "Figured we’d be seein’ you again," she said as Clay and Jenna entered. As she passed the woman, Jenna was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of stale whiskey. "Your old room’s taken, Clay. You’ll have to take the corner one on the third floor, front of the house. It aint’ much, but it’s all we got right now. Make yourself comfortable. "I suppose this gal here’s with you, hey? Don’t make no difference to me, but the charge’s the same for her as for you. Share a room or not, the charge is still the same." "Don’t worry about it, Mabel," Clay answered. "There won’t be any problem about money on this trip. And we won’t be staying all that long anyway. Just don’t go getting upset about us." "As I said, it don’t matter to me, not at all. You stay, you got a gal in your room or not, I couldn’t waste my time caring, as long as I get my money for the both of you." Jenna was furious that Clay said nothing to rebuke the dirty old woman’s obscene suggestions. Why didn’t he tell her that they were to be married soon? Why didn’t he tell her that Jenna was not some cheap floozy who would stay with a man who wasn’t her husband? But Clay said nothing as he preceded Jenna up the stairs to their room.

When Jenna entered the room she was so disgusted she nearly turned and left. It was barely habitable. Its only attribute was that, being a corner room, it had two fairly large windows, each facing in a different direction, making it bright and airy. But the light only managed to expose the dirty, pealing wallpaper, the sagging bed, the spindly rocker by the window. She supposed that the scarred bookcase that leaned precariously against the wall was to be used in place of a dresser. In her imagination she could see crooked stacks of tattered clothing stacked on its shelves. Instead of an armoire, someone had driven several large nails in the wall where clothes could be hung. "You expect me to stay in this deplorable place?" She felt like screaming at him, but somehow she managed to control the volume of her voice. "Ah, come on, honey. We’ve got to stay somewhere tonight and it’s too late to start looking around for a better room. We need some dinner and a good night’s sleep. And believe me, you’ll be surprised at what a good cook Mabel is." "But we can’t stay here together. We’ve got to get married first!" She nearly wailed the last words. "Now, Jenna, just think for a minute. Where are we going to find anyone to marry us tonight? Honey, it can wait for a day or two, don’t you think? I want our marriage to be special, sweetheart, not just some hurried up, sleazy affair." He reached out and put his hand on her waist, pulling her to him. She delighted at the sensation of his lips nuzzling at her neck, the tip of his tongue teasing at her ear. She squirmed with pleasure as his hands began to explore her body. "Well, I suppose it won’t hurt if we spend this one night together," she managed to say, although it seemed that his kisses would steal every bit of oxygen from her body. "After all, we’re nearly married already." "We are married, darling. No mere words could bring us closer than we are at this moment," he crooned as he edged her nearer to the bed. She accepted his kisses with a passion she had always before denied. No longer constricted by her mother’s influence, she felt free to express herself as never before. Each thrust of his tongue through her waiting lips was matched with an even more fervent thrust of her own. She felt she could drink in his maleness as they exchanged lip-bruising kisses. It felt so natural to lie on the bed with him, to feel his body cover hers. She was acutely aware of his sexual arousal as he pressed his body against her. She gasped in pleasure as his fingers began to knead her breasts provocatively. Her body writhed with desire under his touch. Suddenly she wanted more. She wanted to feel his hands on her bare flesh. She wanted his kisses to cover her body, to fulfill her wildest sensual fantasies. "Undress me, Clay," she breathed. "I want to feel your skin next to mine." In her passion she failed to see the look of triumph in his eyes as he removed his shirt and began to unbutton her shirtwaist.

With trembling fingers, she tried vainly to help him release her from her garments. At last she lay naked beneath him, her body waiting impatiently for his magic touch. She gasped with surprise and pleasure as his lips found her breasts. First teasing an already hardening nipple by circling it with the tip of his tongue, bringing it to a sensitivity she would not have thought possible, then drawing it into his mouth, sucking and kneading it until she thought she would scream with the pleasure of it. Jenna swam on a crest of ecstasy as he slowly awoke her entire body to the pleasures of love. So expert was he in his conquest, she felt no shyness as he began stroking the hot pulsating core of her femininity. Her body rose to his touch, aching to achieve the final thrill. Clay, sensing unerringly that he had aroused her to that moment of no return, plunged into her almost brutally. Her eyes flew open in shock at the sudden, unsuspected pain. He lay still for a moment, allowing the pain to subside, then he continued to claim her for his own. Gradually the pain left and in its place was a sensation such as Jenna had never imagined. She never wanted it to stop. She floated on a cloud of delight at his every thrust. Her body craved more. She pulled him into her harder, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She felt she was being pulled upward toward some undefined plane of pleasure. Upward, upward she climbed until she was suddenly filled with a searing, liquid heat. She cried aloud as the heat exploded within her. Seconds after she had reached her peak, Clay threw his head back in ecstasy, allowing his body to release its pleasure into hers. As they lay together on the bed, Jenna no longer thought about how poor the room was or that they were not registered in an expensive hotel. Her thoughts were centered entirely on what she had just experienced. Sweat still glistened on her body as she contemplated how she could entice him to make love to her again.

Chapter 23

A light breeze from the ocean ruffled the curtains, bringing with it a clean, sea-salt fragrance. The aroma mingled pleasantly with the sweet scent of huneysuckles, which grew along the side of the house. Stretching sensually, Jenna gave the appearance of a completely satiated feline as she gradually came awake the next morning. She purred with pleasure as she recalled the delights of the night before. She gazed lovingly at the sleeping man beside her. The sight of his long, dark lashes lying gently against his cheeks, coupled with his thick, wavy hair, tousled by sleep and their ardent loving, made him even more desirable to her in the morning light. An intense sexual craving nearly overwhelmed her as her eyes traveled along his naked body, partially exposed by the crumpled sheet. The thought of waking him with kisses brought a smile to her lips. But, glancing out the window at the position of the sun, she realized they had spent nearly half the day in bed. If she didn’t go out shopping for clothes soon, she would be left with only her traveling dress to wear for yet another day. Reluctantly, she climbed from the bed and began to dress. Clay awoke just as she finished dressing. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I’ve got to go shopping. I need a million things. I certainly can’t go around in the same dress day in and day out. And besides, I need a special dress for the wedding." "I’ll tell you what, why don’t you take those things back off for just a few minutes? I can’t think of a better way to start the day then by making love to the most beautiful woman in San Francisco." Throwing back the sheet, he exposed his potent arousal as evidence of the seriousness of his proposal. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before tearing at the buttons she had finished closing just seconds before. *** I need some shopping money," she said, her face still glowing from their recent lovemaking. "The money I brought with me won’t be nearly enough." "Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and sweet talk Mabel into giving you a couple cups of coffee. While you’re gone, I’ll see what I can do about the cash." As she bounced happily down the stairs it suddenly occurred to her how odd it was that Clay would be so hesitant to get the money out while she was in the room. He certainly likes being mysterious, she thought as she entered the kitchen. When she re-entered their room, the first thing she saw was the money fanned out across her pillow. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she gathered it up. "Will you have time to come shopping with me? Or are you expected at your new job this afternoon?’ "You’ll have to go on without me, I’m afraid. I’ve got important business to take care of. Why don’t you ask Mabel where the better shops are? She can tell you which cable cars to take to get to just about anywhere in San Francisco." The thought of exploring her new city was almost as exciting to Jenna as shopping for new clothes, although she rather doubted that Mabel would be of much help as far as shopping went. Filled with exhilaration, she headed for the trolley. Trying not to be too extravagant, she happily went from one shop to another. Although it had seemed Clay had given her more than enough money, she soon learned that lady's ready apparel, though quite stylish, was far from inexpensive in this fashionable city. She quickly scaled down her list of "must haves" when she realized how rapidly her money was disappearing. While sipping tea at an elegant tea room, she refigured her list of necessities. On her original list she had written seven complete sets of lingerie. She crossed out the number seven and wrote in two. She could handle laundering for herself for a few days, she reasoned. The four day dresses were also cut to two. After she and Clay had gotten married and settled into a more permanent residence she would have a better idea of what her daily needs would be. Reluctantly, she realized she would not be able to get by in San Francisco without an overcoat. It was unbelievable how cold the city could be in the middle of July! Though Boston’s cold winters had been severe, she had never expected to be chilled in the middle of summer in California.

The most important item on her shopping list by far was the dress she would be married in. No matter what else must be discarded from her original list, she would have the most beautiful dress in San Francisco for the wedding. Though she was resigned to a less than formal wedding, she still had every intention of being married in the most beautiful gown she could find. After all, Clay deserved to see his bride at her best when they married, didn’t he? It took her most of the day, but she finally found the perfect gown. When the bill was totaled she discovered she had spent a trifle more than Clay had given her, but the dress was worth every penny and more, she thought as she dug into her small reserve fund from her library earnings. Hugging herself in delight and balancing her purchases precariously, she somehow managed to board a passing cable car. Flushed with excitement and the effort it took to climb the steep hill while balancing the burden of her many purchases, Jenna burst into the boarding house just as dinner was being served. "Better get on in here and eat, girl," Mabel’s gravely voice called to her. "If you don’t make it on time for meals around here, you’ll find yourself going hungry." Dropping her packages onto a table in the entry hall, Jenna hurried into the dining room, anxious to tell Clay what she had bought. The table was lined with the other boards, leaving only two empty chairs hers and Clay’s. Stopping dead in her tracks, her eyes traveled from Clay’s empty chair to Mabel. "Do you know where Clay is, Mable? Maybe I should wait for him," her voice trailed off. "I’m not exactly his social secretary, so’s I don’t know where the man is. But he did say to tell you that he would be out late and that you was to go on and eat without him." A wave of disappointment and embarrassment swept over Jenna as she hesitated by the door. She hated the thought of having to eat in the same room with these people, all of them wondering why Clay had left her alone. Finally the growling of her empty stomach drove her to her empty chair. After the meal she climbed the stairs slowly, barely managing to drag her bundles with her. Although she was exhausted from her busy day, the primary emotion she felt was a heavy burden of disappointment that Clay was not there. Where in the world could he be at this hour? How could he even think of leaving her alone at night like this? And this was only their second night together! The first thing that she noticed when she stepped through the door was the valise. Unlocked and gaping open, it sat on the middle of the bed. Dropping her packages onto the bed, she leaned over and peered into the case. It was totally empty. A chill swept over her. For some unexplained reason, the sight of the empty valise frightened her. She suddenly realized that she would probably never know what he had carried with him from Reno. She had no idea why it bothered her so much, the not knowing, but somehow it suddenly felt very ominous. She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to reason out what she was feeling. Finally, deciding she was over-reacting, she began to unwrap her purchases. Carefully folding each piece of lingerie, she placed them in neat stacks on the bookcase, wondering idly when Clay would get around to shopping for himself. Shaking the wrinkles from the three new dresses, she hung them from the nails on the wall, frustrated by the lack of a decent armoire. She looked at her lapel watch; it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. Glad she had included a new novel in her purchases, she positioned the single kerosene lamp by the rocker and began to read, thinking Clay would surely come walking through the door at any moment.

When Clay hadn’t returned by ten o[clock she decided to go on to bed, not knowing if she was tired or simply bored. Pulling the blankets over her, she felt an emptiness deep within herself. The bed felt so cold, so impersonal without his presence. She curled up in a ball, hugging herself in misery, certain she would never sleep. *** The door squeaked on its hinges, bringing her out of a troubled slumber. "Clay, is that you?" she called out in a sleepy voice. "Were you expecting someone else?" The words were spoken sarcastically. She noticed that his voice sounded different, the words slightly slurred. She could barely make out his form in the darkness as he began to undress for bed. "Where have you been?" "Where have you been?" he mimicked. "Just like a woman, always wanting to know a man’s every move. I’ll make a deal with you, Jenna, I won’t ask you about everything you do, and you do the same, all right?" "Yes, Clay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. It’s just that I missed you," she replied in a small voice. She realized immediately she had made a dreadful mistake, questioning him like she had. Obviously, he was a man who needed his privacy. She must make sure she never made that mistake again. To her relief, he had finally removed all of his clothing and climbed into the bed with her. Tucking his naked body next to her, his hands began a slow, searching caress. The only thing separating them was the gossamer thin nightgown she had bought earlier that day. Anticipating their loving, she wore nothing under the gown. "I’ve brought you something," he whispered seductively into her year. "What?" She sat up eagerly, pleased at the change in his mood. She tried vainly to see him in the darkness. "Here, let me show you." His hands swept under her gown, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. Reaching for a bottle he had placed beside the bed, he removed the cap and poured a sweetly scented oil into the palm of his hand. Rubbing his palms together, he began to spread a thin layer of the oil on her body. Starting with her full, hot breasts, he teased until the nipples throbbed with passion. Then he let his fingers drift to her ribs, to her abdomen, trailing at last to the hot, throbbing place between her legs. "Turn over on your stomach," he ordered in a low, sensual voice. Relieved that he had forgotten his anger with her and delighted with this new game, she quickly followed his instructions.

The flowery aroma of the oil heightened her sexual desire as his hands began their relentless conquest of her body. Pouring a thin stream of the liquid along her spine, his fingers smoothed it across her shoulders, then over the rest of her back. Using more of the oil, he kneaded her buttocks firmly. At his direction, she parted her legs, allowing him to smooth it along the insides of her thighs. "Turn over", he whispered into the night. She giggled with delight as he renewed his ministrations. Kneeling beside her, he dribbled the oil between her breasts, running the stream down to her navel. Dipping his fingers in it, he took both breasts in his hands, massaging their fullness, playing with the nipples until they became almost painfully hard. Moans of pleasure escaped her lips as his hands left her breasts and brushed sweetly along her ribs. His fingers splayed her tiny waist for only a moment. Wonderfully exciting sensations swept over her as his fingers began a slow, rhythmic massage of her lower abdomen. She held her breath in anticipation as he changed position. Spreading her legs, he crouched before her. A gasp of surprise mixed with delight escaped her lips as he allowed a few drops of the oil to cover the most sexually sensitive spot on her body. She writhed in sexual abandon as his fingers gently rubbed the hot, moist flesh. Suddenly the most intense sexual release she had yet experienced overwhelmed her. She found herself biting her lips in a vain effort to keep from screaming aloud with pleasure. Grinning, Clay sat back on his heels. He waited for a few moments to allow her breathing to return to normal, then handed the bottle to her. "My turn now," he said as he lay face down across the bed. She took the bottle from his hand willingly, eager to give as much pleasure as she had received. She marveled at his firm, well defined muscles as she began to minister to him. Leaning forward, she allowed her weight to help her give him a firm massage. As she began to knead his buttocks, she was shocked to realized that she was beginning to feel a new wave of sexual desire stir. She let her hands travel onto his powerful legs, feeling the tight sinews relax as her fingers bit into them, smoothing away the tension. When he rolled over to his back, she noted with delight that her ministrations were having the desired effect on her lover. Grinning into his eyes, she ignored the obvious, choosing instead to cover his chest first with kisses then with oil. When she reached his abdomen, she looked to him for direction. In their previous lovemaking, she had never actually touched him there and wasn’t sure how to proceed. "Put some of the oil in your hand and just do what comes naturally," he teased. "You’ll be surprised at how easy it will be." With only the tiniest spark of reticence, she followed his directions. She was amazed at how silky smooth yet firm and hot it felt. Her fingers seemed to know instinctively how to bring him to his highest peak of sexual fervor yet. Suddenly he reached for her, coupling with her only seconds before his release. "My goodness," she sighed, "I had no idea people did such things in bed."

"That’s nothing, sweetheart. You’ve got a lot to learn and you can believe me when I say that I’m the man to teach you." She smiled drowsily as she thought of the wonderful life they would have together. The last thought that flashed through her mind before she drifted off to sleep was that she was the luckiest woman alive to be able to look forward to years and years of such loving. The sun was shining brightly when Jenna awoke the next morning. Rolling over on her side, she gazed at her lover. The shadow of a frown crossed her brow. As much as she loved sleeping late beside him after a night of ardent lovemaking, she couldn’t help but wonder when he would begin his new job. Whenever she brought up the subject, she had been rewarded with a brusque reply that it was of no concern of hers. She crept out of bed and dressed. Hoping Clay would wake soon, she took up her place in the rocking chair and tried to become interested in her book. When she found herself reading the same sentence for the third time, she closed the book and gazed out of the window. She would go mad if she didn’t get out of this room soon! "Clay?" she called softly to him. His response was little more than a grunt. "Clay?" she called a little louder. "What do you want?" He didn’t sound too pleased at being disturbed. "I’m going out for awhile. Do you want to come with me?" "Just go on and leave me alone," he growled as he rolled over and went back to sleep. Jenna paused at the door, looking at his sleeping form. What had she gotten herself into, she wondered? How long could he expect her to remain here in this dismal boarding house? She turned and walked soberly down the steps and into the fresh, clean San Francisco air. It was almost impossible to stay depressed in such a vibrant city, she thought as she felt her spirits lift. Her pace quickened and a smile spread across her face as she strode toward the cable car stop. She stepped aboard the next car, not caring particularly where it took her. This was her city now and today she would begin to make it her own. The days slipped by like magic. Jenna was amazed when she bought a newspaper one morning and, looking at the date, realized they had been in San Francisco for almost two weeks. Two weeks! And nothing much had changed from the first day of their arrival. Clay still showed no inclination toward going to work, although he never appeared to worry about money. And the date for their wedding was still not set. Each evening Jenna was left to her own devices while Clay went his mysterious, solitary way. If he was in a good mood before he left, he might mention that he had some sort of deal he was working or, or somebody he had to meet, but usually he left her with no explanation of where he was going or what he would do when he got there.

She hated being left alone so much, but soon learned that he would amply reward her patience. Night after night, in the darkness of the tiny room, he taught her the intricacies of making love. She discovered sexual secrets that she would never have imagined in her wildest dreams. At first reluctant to try some of his more erotic suggestions, she quickly discovered that she craved his ministrations more with each passing night. The subject of their wedding seldom came up anymore. When she did mention it, Clay always found some excuse for postponing it that seemed quite sensible. But she noticed that they spent less and less time talking to each other, instead they let their bodies do the talking for them. The rhythm of the passing days became indelibly etched within Jenna. Each day she woke before Clay and went out to explore the city. When she returned Clay would be awake and preparing for his evening excursion. With sinking heart, dreading the lonely hours she faced, Jenna strained to keep a cheerful attitude, knowing that if she complained he would be furious with her. Buoying up her spirits was the certain knowledge that when he returned they would make mad, passionate love. Often she lay in bed for hours alone, remembering with perfect clarity the exquisite sensations he evoked. The first time she felt the stirrings of sexual desires flowing through her body, generated solely by her vivid memories, she had been shocked. Was she depraved, she wondered, to experience these sensations all alone? Did this happen to other women? But guilt was quickly washed away as the warm tide of sexual release overwhelmed her. Afterward, fully relaxed for the first time since Clay left earlier in the evening, she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A small smile curled her lips. Clay would be surprised at her response to his loving tonight, she thought. If the mere thought of his touch could do that to me, just imagine how she would react to the real thing! She fell into a deep, relaxed sleep, the smile still on her lips. She awoke to the sound of Clay entering the room. Opening her eyes, she was shocked to realize that it was already morning. Where have you been? she wanted to scream, but the look in his eyes kept her tongue still. Without bothering to even glance her way, he took off his clothes and fell into bed. In seconds his rhythmic breathing told her he was asleep. The next night he came home earlier than usual. As they made love, he asked her to do things he had never asked before, things she would never have thought herself capable of. But she complied, wanting desperately to please him. To her surprise, she found that they were not so distasteful as she had expected, in fact, she rather enjoyed them herself. Several nights passed uneventfully, and then another when he failed to return at all. And then another. Jenna became frantic that she was losing his interest. She would do anything he asked her, absolutely anything. Sensing her fear, Clay began to taunt her with the power he held over her. Gone was the arrogant girl from Boston and in her place was a pitiful woman, enslaved by her desires. *** At first she refused to listen to the inner voice that told her he was seeing someone else. Clay would never do that to her. He loved her! But as the days passed and his treatment of her became more and more callus, she began to suspect the worse.

Finally, as she lay alone in bed, waiting throughout the silent night, she forced herself to face reality. He must have found someone else, or he would be with her this very moment. A man in love would not neglect her as he did. If he truly loved her, they would have been married by now. With a sinking heart she realized he had played her for a total fool. She was sitting on the bed, totally dressed, when Clay arrived home the next morning. "I won’t bother to ask where you’ve been, Clay," she said in a low, controlled voice. "I don’t believe I would be very happy hearing the sordid details." "Have it your own way, Jenna. Now, get out of my way, I want to go to bed." "I don’t much care what you want, Clay. There are a few things I intend to discuss with you and I intend to do it now." "Oh, it’s finally come to that, has it?" he looked at her, an ugly smirk twisting his face. "I wondered how long it would take you to wake up." A sense of dread began to seep into her. This conversation wasn’t going at all as she had planned. Where was his sense of guilt? Why did he seem to be actually pleased at her anger? "I had imagined you would have realized weeks ago that I had no intention of marrying you. But you never did put two and two together, did you?" "You never intended to marry me?" "Hardly. Do you actually think I would marry the daughter of a whore? Oh, you and your mother learned how to put on airs, all right, but deep down both of you are nothing more than whores." "How dare you speak to me like that, you bastard!" "Oh, come off your high horse, Jenna. And I’d be careful of who I called a bastard. At least my parents were married when I was born, which is more than I can say of yours." "What are you saying?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I’m saying you were at least two years old when your mother married that gambler who called himself your father. And I’m not making this up either. If you’ll remember, I was four when I first met your mother. There was no Lincoln Bradley around when you were born a few months later. Lincoln didn’t come onto the scene for at least two years later. So what do you think of that makes you?" Jenna sat on the edge of the bed, all color drained from her face. "But why did you do this to me, Clay? What did I ever do to make you hate me so?" "Don’t take it personally. It’s your mother I wanted to get to. I’ve hated that bitch ever since she talked my mother into cooking for that bunch of sluts. I’ll never forgive her for humiliating my family like that. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get back at her." Jenna shook her head in amazement.

"And I believed all your lies. I really believed you loved me." "Well, look at the bright side. I’ve instructed you well in the family profession. Why, you’ll make just as good a whore as your mother ever was, maybe better!" He laughed cruelly. "Of course, instruction as good as you received should be compensated fairly, wouldn’t you say? I’ve put a great deal of effort into your education. And, in the interest of fairness, I made sure I was amply rewarded for my efforts." "What do you mean ‘rewarded’?" "I mean I took twenty-five thousand dollars of your mother’s money with me when I left the Crimson Palace. What do you think I had in that satchel, a change of underwear?" Putting her hands over her ears in an effort to shut out the sound of his voice, Jenna began rocking forward on the bed. She was filled with revulsion at what she had done and how foolish she had been. "And I sort of fixed it so that going home won’t be all that easy for you either, sweetheart. I left a note behind saying you were in on the theft right from the beginning." "You won’t get away with it. They do have laws against creatures like you." "Oh, yes I will. I have already. With the money I have left I can book a passage on one of the ships sitting in the harbor and live like a king in some foreign country. And you? Why, I suppose I’ve gotten you pregnant by now. At least if I haven’t, I’m not the man I think I am. Yes, I believe my plan has been completely successful. "Now, I suggest that you find yourself a crib down on the Barbary coast. You’re going to need all the money you can get before you start ballooning out too much. I’m sure you’ll find some pour louts who aren’t too particular who they mount. "But there’s no need to rush away from this luxurious room. Mabel’s been paid up to the end of the month. After that you’re on your own." The sound of his cruel laughter as he turned and left the house would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Chapter 24

Jenna stared blankly at the door Clay had slammed shut behind him. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts - memories of happier days and the intimate moments they had spent together. Suddenly, what had once been thrilling, wonderfully exciting experiences now felt tawdry and disgusting to her. Her face flamed as she recalled some of the more erotic acts she had so willingly performed with him. She had done things with him that he had convinced her were often done by people who were very much in love. But would a man who truly loved a woman ask her to perform such erotic acts? Not likely, she thought ruefully, now that she had regained her senses. No man would expect such pleasures except from a whore. She covered her face in shame. How could she have done them, she wondered? How could she have

allowed herself to be so degraded? And then Shinonn’s image came to her mind. Why hadn’t she listened to her mother’s advice? She thought of how cruel she had treated her mother. Had she ever said one kind word to her? Instead she had derided everything her mother stood for. "Oh, mother, I was so wrong," she said aloud, overwhelmed with guilt. "All you ever wanted was what was best for me. And look where my stubbornness has gotten me." And now what, she wondered? Where do I go from here? Her first thought was to return to her mother, but it was quickly rejected. After all she had put her mother through, how could she expect to be welcomed back with open arms? Without thinking of where she was going, Jenna stood and walked through the door and down the stairs. Her feet automatically took her the same route she had traveled each morning since arriving in the city. Down the three steep blocks to the cable car stop she walked, passing houses and people without seeing any of them. Today, instead of taking the car that worked its way up the hill to the beautiful heights of the city, she took the downhill car, unconsciously seeking out the infamous Barbary Coast. Clay had said that that was where she belonged. She wanted to see what it was like. In her misery she thought that perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was only suited to live in such a place, practicing the perversions of the prostitutes. With tears stinging her eyes, she thought of how she had derided her mother who had once worked in a brothel, believing herself to be so far above the woman who had given her birth. And yet look at us know, she thought in shame. It is I who should be ashamed. At least when mother fell in love, it was with a decent, honorable man. But not me! Oh, no, I had to fall in love with the worst piece of trash Reno had to offer. And the worst of it is, they all tried to warn me! But would I listen? Oh, I knew so much more than any of them. After all, I was the educated one. I was the one who had lived in that refined, sophisticated city in the east. I was too smart to listen to any of their advice. And now look at me. She fought back tears as she wandered the sordid streets of the waterfront. Walking for hours, her mind deeply embroiled with her troubled thoughts, she barely noticed the trash strewn streets, the seedy business establishments, the sordid people lounging in doors. "You lost, honey?" one of the prostitutes taunted from an open window. "Or maybe you’re looking for your hubby. I hear tell he was here awhile back - said he was sick to death of looking at his old lady’s stuck up face. You can bet your bloomers, we showed him more fun than he ever had at home," she laughed rudely as Jenna passed. The woman’s shrill voice broke through Jenna’s misery, catching her attention for a moment. She looked up into the harlot’s painted face. Her lips were painted a scarlet hue, rouge colored her cheek bones, her eyes were darkly outlined in kohl. Long blond hair hung in a tangled mess. Although she looked to be at least forty years old, something about her made Jenna realize that she was probably not many years older than she was herself.

So this is what a life of prostitution leads to, she thought with revulsion. Is this what I have to look forward to? Her stomach lurched at the thought. Yet, despite her revulsion of everything she saw as she walked the Barbary Coast, she couldn’t leave it. Over and over she heard Clay’s voice saying that this was where she belonged, that she was no better than the lowest whore that worked these streets. Had these girls been like her? Had they been seduced by men they loved? Had they found unbelievable pleasure in the arms of their men just as she had? How could she condemn women who might very well have traveled the same route as she? Exhausted at last, she returned to the boarding house just as Mabel was clearing the dinner table. Jenna passed the dining room, head lowered, eyes seeing only the floor beneath her feet. "I hope you know you missed dinner," Mabel called out. "I told you before, you miss a meal around here, that’s your problem." Jenna stopped and looked toward the dining room. Mabel, seeing the vacant, desperate look in the girl’s eyes, relented in spite of herself. "Well, there is a bit left in the kitchen. Come on in and eat while I do the dishes," she grumbled. "Thank you, Mabel, but I couldn’t eat a bite. I’m sorry." "And have you had a thing to eat today?" Mabel persisted. Jenna stopped for a moment, her eyes still vacant as she tried to think back on the day. Finally she had to admit that, no, she hadn’t. "Then get yourself in there and no more arguments," the woman ordered. Her eyes reflected the pity she felt for the girl. "I guess you two had a bit of a tussle this morning," Mabel commented as she placed a plate of food before Jenna. "Couldn’t help but hear your voices. Not that I’m nosy or anything, mind you." "It was more than just a little tussle. He’s gone, and he won’t be coming back." "Oh, I wouldn’t count on that, dearie. Them kind always shows their ugly faces back again. He’ll be back all right." "Not this time, Mabel. He’s finished what he started. He’ll never come back. But that’s just fine with me." She tried to raise her chin in defiance, but failed to pull the gesture off convincingly. "I never want to see him again as long as I live." "If you ask me, his leaving is the best thing that ever happened to you. I never could see you two together. Why, you’ve got a ton of class, which is something I can’t say about him. No, you’re not for the likes of him." "I’m afraid class is nothing more than a joke, in my own case at least. Oh, I thought I had class once, but it was all a lie." Mabel glanced at Jenna with narrowed eyes. Something much more serious than a simple lover’s quarrel was bothering the girl.

"Don’t you let him get to you, honey. His kind’s no good for anybody. It’s not you; there’s something wrong with him." Jenna shrugged her shoulders as if it really didn’t matter who was to blame or what was to happen to either of them. "It doesn’t make any difference anymore, Mabel. He’s gone and that’s all there is to it." "Well, the rent’s paid up ‘till the end of the month, so you don’t have to make any moves for awhile. And if you got the rent money, you can just go on, if you want." "I thought we would be married by now," Jenna said, almost in a whisper. "My God, what would my life have been if it had really happened?" A shudder of revulsion shook her body. "Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do?" Mabel’s’ voice brought her mind back from the horrible vision of life with Clay. "What?" Jenna asked, blinking her eyes as she attempted to return her attention to the present. "I said, what do you think you’ll do now?" "I have no idea. I know I can’t stay here, but I haven’t the slightest idea what to do next." "Maybe you should go home. I bet your family’s worried sick about you." "I can’t. I really want so, but I can’t. That’s the last place in the world I can go. I just don’t know what to do." Her voice trailed off as she pushed away from the table and left the room. The question burned in her mind all night, until she finally drifted into a troubled sleep in the early hours of the morning. She had slept for less than an hour when she awoke to the sound of moaning. Reality seemed to belong more to the dream than to her ugly surroundings. Her body still throbbed with desire as the vision of Clay slowly faded from her mind. Her breasts were still heavy with passion from the teasing of his lips; her flesh screamed for his touch. But the very worst was the terrible emptiness that existed where, in her dream, he had been filling her so completely. She could still fill his deep thrusts, hear his ragged breathing. Shock rocked her when she realized that the sounds that had awakened her had not come from him, but rather from herself. Reaching to the empty place where Clay had slept before, the hard cold truth hit her a solid blow. She was completely and utterly alone. Soaked with perspiration, she lay in the tousled bed, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Tears of frustration and revulsion trickled silently to her pillow. What has he done to me, she asked herself? As much as I hate him I still crave his body! Even now I want him here beside me. Knowing full well what a despicable human being he is, I would give anything to have him here making love to me just once more. It was then that the full realization of her torment hit her. It came to her in a blinding moment of truth, no

matter what he asked her to do sexually, no matter how offensive it might be to her, she would gladly do it if he would just make love to her again. Having neither the courage nor the strength to face the day, she lay for hours curled in a tight ball, hiding her face under the covers. She didn’t want to think. If she could only sleep forever! But the thoughts would not go away. They traveled in a circle in her brain. She recalled how charming Clay had been while he courted her. How could she have seen through him, she wondered? What had she missed that should have given him away? Why couldn’t she have listened to Alex when he tried to warn her? And her mother. How hard Shinonn had tried to steer her toward Ned and away from his evil brother. But did she appreciate her mother’s loving concern? Never. And now look where her stubbornness had gotten her! Time and again her thoughts returned to their lovemaking. Why had she ever allowed him to make love to her? Allowed him! As she remembered it, she had practically begged him! Her face flamed with shame when she remembered all they had done together. What had once seemed daring and thrilling now seemed depraved. And yet still she craved his touch! How quickly her body responded to the mere thought of their more erotic sexual exploits. As the daylight finally faded, she became restless. She rose and dressed. Sometime during the long day she reached a decision, the only logical solution to her situation. She would commit suicide. She hadn’t a clue as to how she would do it, but she was certain she would find a way. Overwhelmed by despair, she walked the streets aimlessly, totally unaware of the dangers surrounding her. If she had thought about it, she would have welcomed an attack, hoping that she would be murdered and put out of her misery. She walked for hours, the tapping of her heals echoing along the deserted streets. When the sun rose, her clothing was completely saturated with dew. Her hair, always so neatly twisted in a knot at the top of her head, fell in damp tendrils around her face. Thoroughly dejected and chilled to the bone, she trudged up the steps to the boarding house. Mabel could not hide her shock when she saw Jenna return, realizing that the girl had spent the night on the streets of San Francisco. This was intolerable. How much more of this behavior would it take before the girl ended up at the hand of some cutthroat? She worried that if anything happened to the girl, Jenna’s blood would be on the boarding house owner’s hands. Shushing Jenna into the kitchen, she put a cup of steaming coffee into her hands. She sat the miserable girl down at the table, intent on putting an end to this nonsense. "We’re going to talk, young lady. This cannot go on. I will not let you get yourself killed while you’re living under my roof. You’ve got to get some help. A girl like you, there must be somebody in your life you can turn to." Tears welled up in Jenna’s eyes as she slowly shook her head in the negative. "Think!" Mabel said. "There’s got to be somebody who cares about you enough to get you out of this

mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Now think!" One face flashed before Jenna’s eyes. Ned Turner. Ned was the only person she knew who would help her with no questions asked. She knew he loved her. Would he love her enough to come to her aid after she had run off with his own brother? At Mabel’s insistence, Jenna sat at the table in the kitchen and wrote Ned a letter begging him for help. "There now, I’ll see that this is posted while you get a nice hot bath. You’ll feel better after you’ve had a bath and a long nap." Jenna felt completely drained of emotion as she rose from her chair. Nodding her acquiescence, she slowly climbed the steps, placing one foot before the other with no thought of her destination. It seemed that her last ounce of resistance had been drained out of her when she handed the letter to Mabel. Jenna had no idea of how many days she waited for Ned. Twice each day Mabel labored up the stairs to her room and insisted the girl come down for meals. Other than that, Jenna never left her room. She sat for hours in the rocker by the window, her book in her lap as she sat staring sightlessly at its pages. Even with the failing light of evening, unable to make out the words, she sat in her room, her book clutched in her hands. And that was how she sat when Ned saw her from the street below, looking out the window, staring off into space. He passed directly into her view, but she made no indication of recognition. He stopped in his tracks when he first saw her, shocked to see her beautiful face at the window. As he drew closer he could better see her perfect features. She looked just as beautiful as ever to him, but even from down on the sidewalk he could see the vacant look in her eyes. At first her expression appeared peaceful, serene, but his heart nearly broke when he realized that her eyes reflected only emptiness. He felt sick as he gazed at her perfect but immobile profile. And yet his heart swelled with love when he reminded himself that he was the one person she had called upon when she needed help. He vowed that no matter what had happened, he would never let her down; she would always know she could put her trust in him. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with hatred for his brother, Clay. This is his doing, he thought. Clay would do anything to hurt Shinonn Bradley, and destroying Jenna would be his way of settling the score. Without being told, Ned was certain that Clay had used Jenna in his selfish scheme, with not the least concern of what it would do to the girl. Mabel gratefully led Ned up to Jenna’s room. "She owes me for a couple day’s rent, but I’d be willing to forget it if you’ll just get her out of here. She’s sure got me spooked. I was certain she was going to jump in the ocean or go and get herself murdered when she went wandering the streets at night. Makes me nervous having someone like her around. "Not that I don’t like her, you know. She’s a nice girl, real nice. But just the same, I’ll sure be glad when she’s out of here." Her gravelly voice ground to a halt as they reached the top of the stairs. Mabel knocked lightly on the

door, then pushed it open when Jenna failed to respond. "Got your friend here for you," she called out, trying to sound pleasant. "You go on in, she directed Ned. "See if you can’t get her out of here." "Jenna?" Ned felt as if he should whisper in the deathly stillness of the room. She turned and faced him, the vacant expression still in her eyes. "Jenna, I’ve come for you." Her eyes gradually focused on him. She sat perfectly still as tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. "Ah, Jenna, don’t cry. Everything will be all right, you’ll see." "No, Ned, nothing will ever be all right again." "Now don’t say that, sweetheart. I’m going to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again. I’ve come all this way just to take you home." Panic filled her eyes as she rose in agitation. "But I can’t go home. Don’t you see that? I can’t ever go home again!" "But you’re wrong, Jenna. Everything’s going to be fine now." "No! They all think I was in with Clay when he stole the money from the Crimson Palace. They’ll put me in prison if I ever return to Reno." "Nobody ever believed that. Oh, sure, your mother was frantic when you turned up missing, but she never for a minute believed you’d conspired with Clay to steal that money. "Clay thinks he’s so clever, but they saw through his ploy from the beginning. We all figured that he duped you into running away with him, but no one ever believed you were in on the theft." "But I’m so ashamed. I can’t go back and live in my mother’s house again. Not after how I treated her and all that’s happened since I left! I’d never feel as if I belonged in that house." "Then come to mine." She looked at him in silence, unable to comprehend his meaning. "Come back with me as my wife, Jenna. You know I love you. I don’t care what happened between you and Clay. That’s all past now. All I care a