Midnight Star

  He grinned down at her, lightly flicking the tip of her nose with his finger. “Your logic is terrifying,” he said.

  “And what’s more,” she continued, frowning at him, “what is all this about men not wanting to . . . plow a field where other men have been. What about women? I don’t want a man who’s been plowing in other fields.”

  “Destroyed by my own metaphor.”

  “Isn’t it the same thing?”

  “No, it isn’t, and it’s tough to explain why. Had you not come to me a virgin, I would have been driven wild to know what other man had known you. I would have thought less of you, as unfair as that may sound.”

  “But I didn’t think less of you, and I know you weren’t a virgin! You knew too much about things.”

  “I doubt we would have accomplished much on our wedding night had I been as ignorant as you. It all has to do with you as a lady, Chauncey, that paragon of womanhood whose thoughts and actions must be inviolate. Such a seamy thing as her actually wanting sex is unthinkable. Once she is married, then magically she should be willing to give herself to her husband. She must be pure and utterly innocent, else she’s not truly a lady. Does that make sense?”

  “I suppose men have ensured that it makes sense. Yet I consider you a gentleman.”

  “Not the same thing, love. There is a point to it all, you know. You, sweetheart, will carry my children. And as a man whose property and money will go to his children, I want to be certain that they are mine, and not another’s.”

  “Then if I had been raped and become pregnant, you would have hated me because you couldn’t be certain it was your child I was carrying.”

  He stared at her a moment, examining himself, for he’d never considered such a thing. “I would be a true bastard if that were true,” he said finally, “and I don’t believe I am. No, I wouldn’t hate you, nor would I hate the child, for, you see, the child would be half you. Now, have I given a good enough account of myself?”

  “It is all rather difficult, isn’t it?” She raised her hand and lightly touched her fingertips to his lips. “I suppose I do understand, yet it seems that women can do naught but slip off the path of righteousness.” She smiled crookedly.

  “Just so long as when you slip, it is into my arms.”

  “Ah, and there’s another thing, Del.”

  He groaned. “I make love to you, and in the aftermath I must indulge in philosophical discussions.”

  She slightly tugged at a tuft of hair on his chest. “No, I am just a simple woman who needs a man to explain things to her. For instance, do you know that at twenty-one I was considered practically a spinster in England? Twenty-one years old! And here you are, a man and twenty-eight. You were a bachelor and that was marvelous! Goodness, even if you were in your thirties, you still could have wed me and no one would have thought it inappropriate that so many years separated us.”

  “I know what’s coming next,” he said on a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Chauncey, at twenty you were so much more intelligent, mature, winsome, and marvelous than I was at your age. It takes a man time and years to gain enough experience to make him acceptable. And you know something? I was disturbed that you were so old. All of twenty-one. A man wants an obedient, malleable wife. I should have found you when you were eighteen.”

  “You sound like you’re jesting, but I know you’re serious.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said, leaning down to kiss her pursed lips. “I am rarely serious. It’s bad for the digestion. Now, watching your eyes glow with pleasure is quite good for the digestion. Hush now, I want to quiet down the rustic dinner in my belly.”

  His hand slid down to cup her breast, kneading it gently.

  “What about my digestion?” she whispered into his mouth.

  “It’s up to me, my love, to ensure that in a very, very short time, all you’ll be thinking about is me in your belly.”

  Why, Chauncey wondered drowsily sometime later, did he persist in being right?

  She slept deeply, her body satiated, the pain in her shoulder so negligible that it didn’t pierce the warmth of her rest. It grew chilly during the night, and she went naturally to him, curving herself against his back, her arm around his waist. Her dreams were soft and rambling, filled with light and laughter. The past and the present interwove easily, and she smiled gently, even deep in sleep.

  When the door to the shack burst open just after dawn, the shock of it brought her upright, a scream on her lips.

  For an instant she was too disoriented to react. There were two men, both holding guns, standing in the doorway.

  The taller man she recognized as Baron Jones, the man who had been on the wharf that day in San Francisco, the man Del had fought a duel with. A slender man, black-haired, his features somehow too well-defined for handsomeness, his complexion ruddy. His eyes were cold as the North Sea, a fathomless gray. The other man was mean-looking, almost skinny, and bandy-legged. He was staring at her, his mouth agape, revealing darkly stained teeth.

  “Lordy, Baron,” the man gasped, “would you look at those tits.”

  Chauncey’s examination of them had taken only a brief moment. She grasped the blanket and pulled it to her neck.

  “Del always provides himself with the most prime piece of ass available. Even hitched himself to this one. Isn’t that right, Saxton?”

  Chauncey felt Delaney’s arm go around her back. She turned to look at him and felt her blood run cold.

  Never had she seen him so quietly and utterly enraged.

  “ ’What do you want, you filthy son of a bitch?” Delaney asked, his voice so calm that he might have been discussing the weather.

  “Why, we’ve come for the lady, of course,” Baron Jones said, his mouth splitting wide to show even white teeth.

  “I see,” Delaney said, his voice still coldly controlled. “The Indian let you down.”

  “Stupid fool bastard,” Baron spat. “Can’t trust those renegades to do anything right. Of course now I can begin to understand his problem. Old Jasper here is right. The bitch has got lovely tits. I thought she had promise, lots of it, when I first saw her.”

  Chauncey was stunned. They’d hired Chatca to kill her! But he’d wanted her. And Delaney had guessed the truth. She felt him pull away from her and lurch to his feet, and heard the man Jasper bark out a low laugh.

  “No doubt what they were doin’ all night, huh, Baron?”

  Delaney stood naked, his hands fisted at his sides. “I really should have killed you two years ago, Baron. Ah, indeed, I really should have,” he said, his eyes as hard as stone.

  “You lost your chance, Saxton. In fact, you’re fixin’ to lose everything. I wonder if your shoulder still pains you when the weather changes.” As he spoke, he rubbed his leg. “The bullet’s still there, you know. Every time it pains me, I think of you, Saxton. I didn’t hesitate to accept this offer. To even up the score, as it were.”

  “And just where is Paul Montgomery?” Delaney asked, not moving a muscle.

  Baron laughed. “The greenhorn Englishman is safe and snug in Nevada City. Poor proper little gentleman. He can’t abide our abominable lack of civilization. I’m wondering what proof we can bring him that we’ve finally removed his problem once and for all?”

  Chauncey found her voice. “Please,” she said, coming up to her knees, “let Del go. He has nothing to do with Paul Montgomery. Nothing.”

  “Well, little honey,” Baron said, “maybe we can work out a deal.”

  Delaney’s hand clutched Chauncey’s shoulder, hard. “Shut up,” he said very precisely and slowly.

  She looked up at her husband, her eyes pleading, feeling more helpless than she had in her entire life.

  “Lookie, Baron, the little filly has a bandage on her shoulder. Maybe the Indian did try to do away with her.”

  Baron gave that wide, dazzling smile of his again, and shrugged eloquently. “Well, Jasper, we’ll never know, will we?”

  “What do you mean?” Chau
ncey whispered.

  “Shot the bastard’s brains out, along with those other ragtag savages.”

  Oh God, they’d killed all of them! Cricket too. Poor Cricket, who’d saved her life.

  It all came back to Paul Montgomery. She felt a fury so profound that her body began to tremble. She clutched the blanket around her and rose shakily to her feet.

  30

  “Ah, Baron, just a mangy blanket!” Jasper took an excited step forward.

  Delaney moved swiftly, planting himself firmly in front of Chauncey. “You won’t touch her, you vermin! I’ll tear out your throat if you even make the attempt.”

  Jasper stopped cold in his tracks, but after a short moment his courage returned. “I’ve got the gun, Saxton, not you! What do you say to me shootin’ your balls off?”

  “Now, now, Jasper, don’t get your dander up. Old Del here, well, he’s just tryin’ to protect his woman.”

  Very slowly Chauncey stepped back until she was pressed against the back wall of the shed.

  Delaney said, “Do you gentlemen mind if I put my breeches on?”

  Baron Jones waved the deadly gun. “Not at all. We wouldn’t want your little lady over there gettin’ lascivious thoughts.”

  Delaney was thinking as calmly as he could. They had taken him utterly off guard; he was a complete fool not to have realized the possibility that Montgomery had hired a villain like Baron to ensure that the Indian, Chatca, had done his dirty work. He fastened his breeches and pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants. He picked up Chauncey’s skirt and blouse and very slowly walked over to her.

  “Eh now!” Jasper screeched. “Nothin’ said about covering up the little honey!”

  Delaney paid him no attention. He heard the click of the hammer, then Baron’s voice. “Naw, Jasper. It’s just a skirt and shirt. Nothin’, really.”

  “Chauncey, listen to me,” Del said very quietly as he handed her the clothes. “I want you to stay silent. If you talk, you draw their attention.”

  She raised wide, frightened eyes to his face. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. Baron, well, he’s the type to gloat. The longer I can make him gloat over me, the better our chance.”

  Delaney turned and said, “I suggest, gentlemen, that we leave my wife in peace so she can dress herself.”

  “I wanna watch her!” Jasper said. “I wanna see those tits again.”

  “There’ll be all the time you want for that, Jasper,” Baron said, his eyes narrowing with intense satisfaction on Delaney’s face. “Now, Del here knows all there is to know about being a gentleman. There’s a bucket of water outside. I’m thirsty. Come along, Jasper.” Baron waved the barrel of his gun toward Delaney, and he walked swiftly out of the shack. Baron paused a moment, saw Delaney’s rifle, and tucked it under his arm. He slung Delaney’s pistol and gunbelt over his shoulder. “You probably don’t know one end from the other, little honey, but why tempt fate?” He gave her a smile that made her grow utterly cold, and strode from the shack.

  She was left alone. It seemed an eternity before Chauncey could make herself move. Her knuckles showed white from strain. Dress yourself, dammit! Within moments she was tucking in the blouse and straightening the skirt over her legs. Thoughts of her discussion with Delaney the previous evening about rape tumbled through her mind. Rape was nothing compared to what these men intended. And all because of Paul Montgomery. Delaney would die too, because of her.

  Stop it! You’re acting like a dithering female!

  Chauncey drew in a deep steadying breath and began to search the cabin. No weapon. She quickly bent over Delaney’s valise and tossed aside his clothes. She had no hope of finding a weapon, not really, and when she saw her pearl-handled derringer, she blinked, thinking it was an apparition. “Oh God,” she whispered to herself, “please let it be loaded.” It was. It was just where she’d left it the night Chatca had taken her. She slipped it quickly into one of the large tattered pockets of the skirt. Her heart was pounding. They’ll know. They’ll know!

  She was standing still as a statue when the men returned to the cabin.

  “You sit over there on the floor, Del, and keep yourself quiet,” Baron said. “You, little honey, Jasper and me are hungry. Whip us up some grub and coffee.”

  “She doesn’t know how,” Delaney said. “As you can see, she was wounded in the Indian camp. I’ve taken care of her.”

  Baron looked undecided for a moment, then shrugged. “Very well. Come here, girl. Your husband makes one wrong move, and you’ll have a bullet through your pretty head. You hear, Saxton?”

  “I hear,” Delaney said. He saw Jasper move toward Chauncey from the corner of his eye, and said to Baron, “You seem to have pulled this off pretty well. Tell me, how did you get in contact with Montgomery?”

  Chauncey watched Baron Jones straighten, pull back his shoulders, and preen. Jasper stopped in his tracks and watched his partner.

  “Well, you see, Del, I know Hoolihan. Ah, surprised you, didn’t I? I watched Monk haul him around, Monk and those other scum you hired. But you see, Montgomery was in San Jose and I went to see him, told him you’d captured his man. He’s paying me a lot of money, Del, enough to set up my own gambling saloon. Right here close by in Nevada City, I think. Jasper here, well, he’ll make sure none of the miners leave the area with too much gold in their pockets.”

  “You’ve really thought this all out, haven’t you, Baron?”

  “Yes, indeed, Del. As for Montgomery, as soon as Jasper and I meet him in Nevada City, he’ll pay us and take himself back to England. You know something, though, I would like to know why he wants your wife dead and buried. He wouldn’t tell me nothin’.”

  Delaney carefully set several mugs on the rough table and poured the steaming coffee. He’d thought to fling the hot liquid in their faces, but Jasper was hunkered down near Chauncey. He’d kill her before Delaney could get to him. Or put a bullet through him. Bide your time, he told himself over and over. Keep Baron talking.

  “Actually,” Delaney said, arching a brow toward Baron, “it’s a tale that doesn’t make Montgomery look like much of a saint. He murdered my wife’s father and stole from him. After dangling my wife on his knee when she was little, he decided she’d learn the truth about him. He should probably remain here in the West. He’s a lawyer, you know, and he’d fit right in with the rest of the jackals.”

  “That ain’t a pretty story at all,” Jasper observed.

  “He tried to kill her before she left England, but she escaped injury. I suppose he was on one of the next ships over. He really doesn’t deserve to live.”

  “Nope, ain’t pretty at all,” Jasper said again, shaking his head. “Why don’t you and I wipe him out, Baron?”

  “Honor, my dear Jasper, honor among thieves, I believe the saying goes. Breaking a deal isn’t good for a man’s reputation, an’ things like that get around.”

  Chauncey spoke up, her voice soft and shaking. “Did you know that he pretended to be my friend after my father’s supposed suicide? He even managed tears at my father’s funeral.”

  “Well, ain’t that a kicker!” Jasper said in disgust.

  “Now, now, Jasper,” Baron said, amused contempt in his voice, “the man’s smart. Even you should be able to appreciate that. Now, Del, you got anything to eat? I don’t like to work on an empty stomach.”

  “Moldy bread, that’s all, Baron. If you want something more substantial, you’ll have to go out and shoot it.”

  Baron sipped at his coffee for a moment. “Well, you know, we don’t have to be in Nevada City until tomorrow. I don’t suppose it’d hurt to let the two of you have a final meal. Kind of like getting ready for an execution.” He rubbed his thigh. “Yeah, an execution.”

  Delaney felt a spurt of hope, but nothing showed on his face. His expression remained impassive, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Up to you” was all he said.

  As for Chauncey, she had to lower her
head. She was afraid that they’d see the glitter in her eyes.

  “Jasper,” Baron said, “let’s see if you can hit anything. We’ll feed up the little honey here real good. Think of all the fight she’ll have if she’s got more strength.”

  Jasper muttered under his breath, but rose.

  “First, let’s make sure Del here won’t try anything stupid.” Baron tore strips off the blanket and bound Delaney’s hands behind his back, then his ankles. He sent an interested look in Chauncey’s direction.

  “You leave her tits alone, Baron! I want her first.”

  “I’ll do nothing more than warm her up a bit,” Baron said.

  I should have thrown the coffee at them and taken my chances. Delaney closed his eyes a moment. Now he was helpless, and he knew Baron would delight more in watching his fury than in actually touching Chauncey. He began jerking and pulling on the bonds.

  Jasper stalked out of the shack. “I’ll be back in a flash,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Take your time, Jasper. Take your time.” Baron spoke very softly, only for Delaney and Chauncey’s hearing. “You know something, Del? With you out of the way, I think I’ll teach that little whore Marie a real lesson. The bitch had the gall to tell me that I didn’t have anything a real man had. Yes,” he added, his voice sounding a bit dreamy, “I’ll show her what I can do.” He straightened suddenly, and looked purposefully at Chauncey. “In fact, Del, I think I’ll practice on your wife. After all, both she and Marie have shared your bed. We’ll let her tell us about how a real man acts.”

  “Don’t you touch her, Baron!”

  “Now, Del, be reasonable. There’s nothing you can do about anything. Grind your teeth all you want. Me, I lied to Jasper. I do want to see those pretty tits again, and without him salivatin’ all over me and her.”