Garnet's TreasureBN.html Page 10

  Golda hadn't quite noticed it before, but her sister's know-it-all attitude was really beginning to annoy her. Not that she didn't love Garnet or feel grateful. Garnet had been a mother to her, for heaven's sake. But now she was always harping on about how hard life was and how important it was to shoulder responsibilities. How dangerous men were and how worthless Pa was.

  Well, Golda had never believed that about Pa, even now after he'd left them stranded here. She knew there had been a darn good reason why he had taken their money. And if their life's savings was something he needed that badly, then Golda was glad he helped himself to Garnet's reticule.

  Garnet now glanced at the stack of unwashed clothes and eyed the line on which hung row after row of shirts. Her thin lips pressed together in a disagreeable frown.

  "Golda, I'm sure you've done your best today, but you are going to have to work faster. We have a stack of laundry to get through, and when it's dry there's the ironing, don't forget."

  Golda sighed. The task seemed unending, and she was certain Garnet was determined to kill her off with this awful, back-breaking drudgery.

  "We'll work together on this tomorrow morning. Right now I want you to go inside and fry up the salt pork. Look, someone else has ridden up. I hope that's another new customer."

  "Right." Golda held back the sneer until her sister was out of sight. She saw how eager Garnet was to find more shirts for her to scrub.

  "Psst."

  Golda turned toward the trees. She recognized the handsome face peering out at her through the undergrowth. Her whole heart leapt with immeasurable joy, as endless as the sky overhead, as bright as all the stars wandering through the night.

  "Is she gone?" Lance asked, cautiously gazing out at the yard.

  "She's gone for now." Golda sighed. "Oh, Lance, it's good to see you."

  "I have to know, darling Golda." Lance stepped out of the foliage and reached gallantly for her hand. "All the men in town can't stop talkin' about you and your sister. You are such a vision. Such a beautiful princess. I know I'm not good enough for such a fine lady."

  "Why, don't put yourself down, Lance–Mr. Lowell," she said, charmed beyond the capacity to think. "You're a fine man. A man any lady would be proud to know."

  "But am I good enough to be your husband?" he asked anxiously. There was no mistaking the love burning in his eyes. "Would ya marry me, Golda?"

  * * *

  Garnet eyed the freshly shaven man as he dismounted from his bay gelding. He looked neat and tidy, and he wore such nice shoes. He wasn't a prospector, like so many of the men in this territory, but probably a shop owner. She did spy a rucksack slung over the back of his saddle and excitement thrummed in her chest. More business! Goodness, in a month, if this kept up, she would have hopes of having enough money to head home.

  "Good day, ma'am," the man politely tipped his hat. "The word in town is that you are starting a laundry business."

  "Yes, sir. I'm also cleaning a few of the businesses in town. Mr. Carson's store and Mr. Busby's saloon and boardinghouse." The prostitute who'd tried to help her that frightening first night in town had approached her, too, asking to hire her. Garnet didn't think she ought to list a brothel as one of her jobs, especially when she only cleaned the living quarters for the girls and the parlor.

  "I'm Gus Adams and I own the Lucky Day Gambling Hall. I could use someone with your talents. I pay my bartender to clean up, but he isn't so good at it. Would you be interested in cleaning for me?"

  "Very much. I do have room in my schedule." Garnet was used to teaching school during the day and coming home to do the farm work. Such stamina would serve her well now.

  "Good, then I would like to hire you." Gus had dark eyes that sparkled when he smiled. "I see you're stuck out here in Wyatt's cabin. He's not the most agreeable man in these parts."

  "No, but he has been the perfect gentleman," Garnet confessed, not sure if Gus intended to slight Wyatt or compliment him. "He has offered us use of his cabin, although it's a terrible inconvenience to him."

  "Yes, and so far from town." Gus's mouth twisted as he thought. "I have a cabin I normally rent, but the prospector left town a few weeks ago."

  "You mean, it's vacant?" Hope sizzled in her heart. Not that she wanted to leave Wyatt, but if she had her own home, a place she paid for herself, why, she would be truly independent again. And no burden to the man she was beginning to care for way too much.

  "Indeed." Gus's smile deepened. "In fact, I could offer the place in trade. It's a fine cabin, with a wood floor. For say, a weekly scrubbing of my gambling hall."

  "No." Garnet's blood heated at the thrill of a negotiation. "How about two free weekly scrubbings? I guarantee you'll be pleased with my work. I'll need to view the cabin first, before I decide for certain."

  "Of course. Stop by any time."

  Goodness, this was going much better than she'd ever hoped. She then began negotiating a fair wage for laundry services.

  * * *

  Garnet pushed open the stable door with a great amount of trepidation in her heart. Her negotiations with Gus Adams had proven successful, but now she needed to ask Wyatt to take her to town. He'd made her swear she wouldn't head off alone, not after the incident the other night.

  How would he act? Her chest squeezed. What if he were glad to be rid of them? That's how he would probably feel, and she wasn't certain if her heart could take the disappointment of not being wanted.

  "Got yourself another client, huh?" Wyatt looked up from his mare's stall. The animal was grazing outside in the dappled twilight.

  "You've made yourself a cozy place here." She saw the straw pallet he'd made himself, clean blankets heaped in a corner. A barrel of molasses served as a table, and a newspaper lay open on top of it, alongside an empty tin cup. A cut log served as a chair. "I bet you'd rather have your cabin back."

  "What? Are you inviting me to move in with you?" Teasing humor flickered in his eyes, more alluring and attractive than Gus's pleasant sparkles, Garnet noted. Her stomach fluttered.

  "No, I just thought maybe I should move to town. Maybe it would be better for my reputation and for your peace of mind to have us gone."

  "Gone?" Wyatt bellowed with as much fury as if she had asked for his permission to set him on fire. "What gave you that harebrained idea?"

  Garnet cringed, not expecting his anger. "You want us out of your cabin."

  "No, I don't."

  "You never wanted us to stay, Wyatt."

  "Well, that was just . . . shock, that's all. The shock of having two women thrust into my life like that." He snatched up the pitchfork, gripping it between powerful hands. Obviously in a foul mood, he paraded over to the single stall and began disturbing the straw.

  "You didn't seem shocked to me. And you were very angry when I washed your blankets and all your clothes."

  "I was on the verge of losing my temper. You can't hold a man to his word at a time like that." Wyatt worked the soiled straw loose and began to stack it near the door. There was no mistaking the ripple of muscle beneath his cotton shirt.

  Garnet tried to look somewhere else, but her gaze wandered back to watch his shirt stretch over his chest and shoulders with each movement. My, she was growing warm. Very warm.

  But Wyatt seemed unaware of her physical state and simply continued mucking out the stall. He worked steadily without glancing up, as if looking at her would only ignite his temper more thoroughly. "Don't get me wrong I want you out of my place, off my land, out of my life. With all these men coming around, ruining my peace, having you leave this very second wouldn't be soon enough for me."

  "Then why don't you want me to go?" Garnet asked, truly confused.

  "Because . . ." He straightened from his work pitching straw. "Your bullet wound is not fully healed. And the fact that you're penniless. Both are my fault."

  "Your fault?" He amazed her, he simply amazed her. All brawn and good looks, but he was more than that. He had a heart better than any man
she had ever known. "I cannot see how Pa running off with my money is your fault."

  "I didn't find him in time. He'd gambled and drunk away most of your savings. I would have taken it out of his hide, but he's an old man. I couldn't strike him. Other than letting him cool his heels in jail for a few days, there was nothing I could do."

  He rubbed his brow with the back of his hand. "I never should have left him laying around on my cabin floor for so long. I suspected he was starting to be more healthy than he was pretending to be, but I let it pass."

  "You aren't the first person Pa ever lied to."

  "I know." So much warmth in that rum-smooth voice. "You don't deserve what he did to you, Garnet."

  Little sparks of affection jumped to life in her heart, beautiful flames that warmed her entire chest and radiated through her body. "It's nice to know you care."

  "Of course I do. I feel responsible for you."

  That warmth in her chest faded. Responsible? That's how he felt? The way an older brother felt for a sister? The way she felt for Golda? Garnet bowed her chin. Of course he didn't care for her. No man ever had, no man ever would.

  Now there was no other decision to make. "I'm taking Gus up on his offer. He has a vacant cabin, and he offered me a reasonable rent. I can't continue to stay with you, now that I've secured employment and a home. I can't be beholden to you anymore."

  "I see." Why did he sound disappointed?

  "I've never had to depend on a man before," she explained. "And I can't continue to take advantage of you. You have allowed us to disrupt your life and eat your food and sleep in your bed."

  "Why stop disrupting my life now that I've finally gotten a little used to it?" He leaned the pitchfork against the wall and crossed his iron-hard arms confidently over his broad chest "Besides, haven't I done a good job helping you out? I treated your wound. I made sure it was clean and bandaged. I saw that you and your family were safe and provided for."

  "I don't know how I can ever repay you. No one person has ever done so much for me."

  "And you thank me by leaving?"

  I don't want to. Garnet felt her face flame from the edge of her dress's high collar to the roots of her hair. "Gus's cabin does have a wooden floor, so it will be considerably warmer in case we are forced to stay in town through the winter."

  Wyatt snorted. "So, now you're comparing other men's cabin's to mine?"

  "Then you tell me what to do, what other choice I can make. What if I can't earn enough money before the snow traps us here for months on end? If that happens, we can't all share your shack. It's unfair to you and it's inappropriate for two unmarried women to live with you."

  "If you pay rent, then it will take you longer to earn enough money to head home." He took a step closer. "I know the real reason you want to leave."

  "You do?" Perhaps it was the nearness of him that snatched her breath from her lungs.

  "You can't keep secrets, Garnet. Not with that honest face of yours." A spot of humor sparkled in his wicked dark eyes, luminous and enchanting.

  Her heart hammered far too fast. It was from fatigue, no doubt. Overwork. Certainly such palpitations were not due to his standing so close. She could see the individual whiskers darkening his strong jaw. "What secrets am I hiding?"

  "Certain feelings. For me."

  Did it show that much? "Perhaps just a few."

  "It must hurt. Feeling obligated to a man in miner's garb, a man not so different from your pa."

  "You think–" She thought he had guessed her feelings. That perhaps he felt the same way about her. But he didn't. Once again she was wrong due to her silly foolish heart.

  A muscle jumped along his jaw. "There are two little words civilized women like you say all the time, but I haven't heard them pass your lips lately."

  "Which words?"

  "You know them." Wyatt stared harder at her mouth. "Come on. Say it."

  "Say what?"

  "You can thank me. Go on. It won't hurt you to say it. Much."

  Oh, he could be charming when he wanted to be, with that lopsided grin and twinkle in his eyes. He watched her expectantly.

  "Thank you." Why such a polite phrase stuck in her throat, she couldn't say. Nor could she explain the way she felt weak and invigorated at the same time. Or how daylight around them faded bit by bit until Wyatt was all she saw, all there was in the world. The warmth lighting his black eyes and an amused grin tugging up one corner of his mouth. Why, he even had attractive lips. She had never noticed it before. Not like this. Not so that her gaze centered on them and she could not look away.

  "See? It didn't kill you to thank me."

  "No, I guess it didn't. I'm still alive. My heart is still beating."

  His smile broadened, and it was like the sun in the sky. "Everyone needs a little help now and then. Even you, Garnet."

  "But do you? Do you need help?"

  The brightness of his smile faded, like the sun setting behind clouds. He shook his head. "Not me. I never need anybody."

  No, of course not. Garnet could feel her heart sink back down in her chest. Wyatt Tanner, so tough, so damnably male, certainly did not need someone like her.

  And neither did she need him. Hadn't she learned through the years how disastrous it was to depend on a man? Depending on Wyatt for shelter through the winter might be a very bad mistake. She had watched her own mother die of a broken heart, yearning after a man who loved nobody more than himself.

  But her logic failed as she gazed up into Wyatt's eyes. She saw strength, intelligence, and warmth. A softness had ebbed into his face like mist into the night, softening the chiseled angles of his cheekbones and the line of his carved chin.

  He spoke, moving his mesmerizing lips, and she could not tear her gaze away. "I haven't needed anyone for as long as I've been on my own, nearly twenty years now. I was alone until you showed up. I had peace and quiet until all your admirers started bringing their rucksacks stuffed full of dirty clothes, trying to court you."

  More than humor rang in his voice, a voice that enveloped her like a hug, that made her let down her guard and feel with her heart. This time, for the first time, there was something different, something frightening and dangerous in it.

  The blood roared in her ears as she watched his mouth move over more words. He leaned closer, so close she could see nothing but the deep blackness of his eyes and the small chips of chocolate-brown within, warmer than hot coffee on a cold day. "There's something you should know."

  "W-what?" Goodness, his lips were so close he was almost kissing her as he spoke. She could feel the heat from his mouth hover over her own.

  "I've seen Gus's cabin. There's no well and there's no privy. It's also much smaller than mine."

  "You don't think I should rent his cabin?"

  Wyatt's upper lip brushed hers once. "No. It has a canvas roof and would be very drafty come winter."

  "Your cabin has a canvas roof." How her mouth tingled with small fire-hot sparks.

  "Not for long." His upper lip brushed hers again. Such sweetness. "Perhaps it would be better for you if you stay." Both his upper and bottom lips brushed hers as he spoke.

  Tingling heat skidded across the sensitive skin of her mouth. Garnet had never felt anything so incredible in her entire life.

  "Say yes," he whispered, right before nibbling her lips.

  Exploding dynamite could not have surprised her more. She was all sensation, all aching want for his lips on hers, warm and tender and so brief he pulled away before she could even believe he had kissed her. Before her heart kicked and the fire in her veins ignited and she wanted nothing more than another kiss, but a longer one this time, one that would last forever and a day.

  Something danced in those black eyes of his. Something like excitement and desire and downright amusement all mixed together in a heady brew. She knew, because that's how she felt.

  What was happening to her? Her heart cracked a little bit. What was this powerful wildfire of excitement sh
e felt for Wyatt? She had never experienced the like before. Was it infatuation? She was being foolish, wasn't she? Was she putting herself on the same path her mother had taken, allowing herself to give her affections to a man who loved no one more than a gamble? Wyatt was a miner dreaming of riches but living in complete squalor. He'd left a perfectly good job with the law to dig for gold. He was just as shiftless as Pa.

  She gazed up into Wyatt's face. A strong man, but a man nonetheless. He could break her heart as easily as Pa had broken Ma's. How could she stay? How could she leave? And worse, was he just playing with her affections? She could not forget what Golda had said. Could not deny that Wyatt was lonely, too.

  Garnet touched her lips. The tingling had faded but the memory of his kiss remained.

  * * *

  Wyatt couldn't sleep, so he wandered outside into the night. The stable was peaceable enough, just him and his horse, but he couldn't get a certain female out of his mind. The taste of her kiss, the warm velvet brush of her lips, the way she'd put her fingertips to her mouth afterward haunted him. No, tormented him. Because he wanted to do that again.

  And that just went to show how daft he was. He was in this town for only one reason–to find his brother's killer. He didn't belong here, wouldn't stay here. What would happen then? One of his leads would pan out, he would arrest the murderer and head home, back to his job, back to his life. Garnet could be stuck here if the snows came early, with her own set of admirers and her cleaning business.

  Her very successful cleaning business. At least four dozen shirts and trousers flapped on the makeshift clothesline in the breeze, with more heaped high inside the cabin, waiting to be washed. This influx of visitors was interfering with his investigation. He couldn't leave her unguarded to hunt down his leads.

  Before this, his best information had often come from the taverns, over whiskey and poker and tongues made careless by alcohol. Instead of working tonight, he was here, sitting guard in the dark of night, troubled by a little tiny kiss he'd given a woman.

  Not just any woman. No, Garnet was by far unlike any female he'd ever met. Porcelain-fine skin. A silken luxury of ebony hair. That spark of integrity in intelligent blue-green eyes. And a will the size of a mountain.