She made a quick sign of the cross, then pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. After a moment, she visibly groped for her self-control, raising her chin, squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath. Her eyes were shimmering with tears when she met his gaze again.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I like your father and brother. Believe me when I say I hate to see them in jail. Especially since it involves one of my claims.”
“I can only thank God it was on one of your claims, Mr. Taggart. Another mine owner might have shot them on the spot.”
For reasons beyond Luke, he suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable. He’d never had anyone look at him in exactly the way Cassandra Zerek was, as if he’d single-handedly hung the moon.
As he struggled to shove aside his feelings of uneasiness, a drunk came weaving up the sidewalk. Watching the fellow, Luke once again realized that it wasn’t safe for her to be out here alone after dark. Indeed, it was a miracle she hadn’t been accosted. The thought made him feel weak at the knees.
In his memory, Luke had never been protective of anyone; given his plans for this girl, such inclinations were ludicrous in the extreme. It was like a wolf worrying that another dog in the pack might steal a taste of his bone. Nonetheless, he stepped closer, shielding her with his body as the drunk staggered past.
“Cassandra, do you realize what a foolish chance you’ve taken, wandering these streets without an escort? Don’t you know what manner of men frequent places like the Golden Slipper?”
The words were no sooner out of Luke’s mouth than he wanted to call them back. He was, after all, one of the Golden Slipper’s most regular customers.
He grasped her by an elbow. “I really think it might be best if I see you home. We can settle the rest of this in the morning.”
“Oh, Mr. Taggart, you needn’t bother. I’m perfectly safe.” She glanced up the street at the marshal’s office. “Besides, I want to see my papa and brother before I go. There has to be more to this than meets the eye—some sort of mistake, surely. And the quicker I get to the bottom of it, the sooner they’ll be released.”
“Honey, there is no mistake.” Luke could only wonder at the husky regret he heard in his voice. Maybe he’d missed his calling and should have been an actor. “Your father and brother were caught red-handed on my claim. As for your seeing them tonight, that’s impossible. The marshal has already left for home.”
“Maybe I can talk to them through their cell window. I really do need to see them, Mr. Taggart. Please, try to understand.”
“I do understand. But talking to them through a window isn’t possible either. By my special request, they’ve been assigned to inside cells. I didn’t think windows were a good idea.”
A troubled frown pleated her brow as Luke drew her into a walk. Faltering a step, she hung back, looking over her shoulder at the jail.
“Why did you request that? Papa will go crazy being locked in a cell with no window.”
“Ah, but it’s for his own safety.” Tightening his grip on her arm, Luke steered her around an empty display rack a shopkeeper had left out on the sidewalk. “This is a mining town, remember. Most of the men who live here have mines of their own, and they have to leave their pieces of ground unattended while they’re working for me. Claim jumpers aren’t very well thought of. I was afraid some intoxicated miner might take the law into his own hands and try to punish your father and brother with the business end of a shotgun.”
Cassandra grew even more pale—so pale, in fact, Luke feared she might faint. She stumbled, caught her balance, then fastened a frightened gaze on him. “My papa and brother are in very serious trouble, aren’t they?”
“Grave trouble indeed,” he admitted. “So much trouble that they should, by all rights, be kept in jail for a very long while.” He softened that with a kindly smile. “I’m a fair man, though. Your father says they went in partners with some fellow named Peter Hirsch. Evidently the man misled them into believing they were chipping rock on a legally filed claim. Even though the story sounds farfetched, I’m inclined to believe it.”
“I promise you, it’s true,” she rushed to assure him. “There was a man named Peter Hirsch. He’s all Papa and Ambrose have been talking about for days, and I saw the partnership contracts they signed with my own eyes.”
Luke nodded. “I saw one as well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t valid.” He pretended to mull the situation over. “Unless we can catch Peter Hirsch, I guess we’ll never know the truth. The marshal has sent out a couple of deputies to try and track him down, but…” He let his voice trail away. “Well, you know as well as I do what their chances of success are. Hirsch probably isn’t even the fellow’s name, and the description your father gave of him was fairly nonspecific.”
“I wish they’d find him. He deserves to be punished for doing something so awful. My papa is a good man. He’s never done anyone a bad turn in his whole life.”
“I’m sorry this has happened. You’ll never know just how sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“No. But what happens from here on out will be.”
“What do you mean?”
Luke looked down at her. “I can’t allow claim jumpers to get off scot-free, Cassandra. If I do, every man in these mountains will get the idea I’m an easy mark.”
She nodded solemnly. “I understand.”
“Do you? I’m caught between a rock and a hard spot, and I have no choice but to press charges. If your father and brother truly are blameless, as they say, that means they’ll be punished for something they didn’t mean to do.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. After a moment, she said, “I’m just thankful it’s you we’re dealing with. At least we can trust you to be fair.”
Luke heaved another sigh. “I’ll try to be. God knows, I want to be. Otherwise, I don’t know how I’ll sleep nights.”
“No matter what happens, you mustn’t blame yourself,” she said shakily. “My papa wouldn’t want that, and neither do I. As I said, it isn’t your fault.”
“Then why do I feel so awful?”
She pulled to a stop and turned to look up at him, her movement forcing him to release his grip on her elbow. With trembling fingers, she lightly touched his jacket sleeve. “Oh, Mr. Taggart. In a way, this is nearly as terrible for you as it is for my papa and brother, isn’t it?”
“Well, I’m not sure I’d say that.” Luke cupped his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. Her fingers felt small and fragile against his palm. “I’ve been trying to think what to do all evening. The most obvious solution, of course, is to make them serve a short stint in jail and fine them for damages. The only problem is, I doubt your father has the extra money to pay a fine.”
Cassandra shook her head, her gaze still frightened. “No, he doesn’t. We do well just to keep food on the table and pay our rent.”
Drawing her arm through his, Luke began to walk again, his hand still covering hers. “You know, until this second, I hadn’t considered the fix you’ll be in if your papa and brother are kept in jail for any length of time.”
“You mustn’t concern yourself with me. I’ll manage somehow.” She frowned, drawing her finely arched, dark eyebrows together. “My biggest worry is for Papa and Ambrose. Jail…I can’t believe this has happened.”
“Well, it has. What in God’s name are you going to do, honey? In a town like Black Jack, there’s little by way of employment for respectable young ladies. And as I recall, it’s not just you at home, either. Don’t you have a little brother as well?”
“Yes—Khristos. He’s only eight.”
Luke gazed pensively into the darkness. “I’ll never forgive myself if the two of you are tossed out into the streets.”
“The streets?” she echoed faintly.
He glanced down. She was staring ahead at the rain-washed cobblestone, obviously imagining how awful it would be if she were homeless. “That is what happens when you can’t pay the rent, you know,” he told h
er softly. “Landlords don’t tend to be very understanding.”
“Oh, my…” The corners of her mouth quivered, and he felt her hand tighten on his arm. “Oh, my…I hadn’t thought of that. If Papa and Ambrose are kept in jail for very long, what will Khristos and I do?”
“I’m not trying to frighten you,” he inserted gently. “And I promise you, Cassandra, if there’s any way I can prevent such a thing from happening, I will. It’s just that I can’t think how.” He grew silent for a moment. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t very well lend you money. How would that look to all my employees? The first thing I knew, I’d have claim jumpers crawling over these mountains like a plague of insects.”
Cassandra was beginning to feel truly frightened. Mr. Taggart was right. Absolutely right. There were no jobs for decent young ladies in Black Jack. She’d already tried to find one. If her papa and brother had to stay in jail, even for so much as a week, she and Khristos would run out of money.
Cassandra knew she could throw herself upon the mercy of the nuns and that somehow they’d make room for her and Khristos, but the orphanage already operated on a shoestring. She and Khristos would literally be taking food from children’s mouths. And what of Lycodomes? He was only a dog and Cassandra knew it was ridiculous to worry over his fate when she had so many more important concerns, but she couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning him.
There was always Father Tully, of course. He would help them in any way he could. But there again, money was scarce, and the kindly priest wouldn’t be able to spare enough to keep the wolves from their door for any length of time.
Luke Taggart’s hand flexed over hers, his grip warm and wonderfully strong. “Hey…” he said huskily. “I’m afraid I have frightened you, and that wasn’t my aim. We’ll work this out. Trust me on that. Somehow, we’ll work it out.”
“But how?” Cassandra heard the tremulous note in her voice and wanted to kick herself. She was a Zerek, not some lily-livered sniveler, and the Zereks were made of strong stock. Or so her papa said. Right now, she didn’t feel very courageous.
“I’m not sure how,” Luke admitted, “but I promise, I’ll think of something.”
He traced his thumb over the back of her hand, his touch like a feather moving on her skin. Cassandra got the strangest feeling, a tingly sensation that began where he caressed her and moved up her arm. It had the unsettling effect of making her forget what she was worried about. All she could think of was his thumb and how wonderful it felt, moving in those little circles, setting her nerve endings afire.
“I had planned to stop by your house in the morning to tell you what happened. Would you mind if I drop by anyway?”
“What?”
His firm mouth quirked at the corners, deepening the slashes in his cheeks. “Would you mind if I drop by to see you in the morning?” he repeated.
Cassandra lifted her gaze to his. Like one half of a broken china supper plate, the moon hung in the dark sky behind him. The illumination spilled across his broad shoulders and threaded his tawny hair with silver. Accustomed to the short, stocky men in her family, she couldn’t help but feel in awe of his height and the strength that seemed to emanate from him. Recalling the evening that Ambrose had twirled her around the kitchen, she wondered how it might feel if Luke Taggart were to put his arm around her. At the thought, a funny, liquid heat swirled through her stomach, tendrils of warmth ribboning from there to the tips of her breasts.
The reaction shocked Cassandra. She planned to become a nun, after all, and she was fairly certain nuns didn’t get these feelings. Considering the trouble her papa and brother were in, she felt guilty as well. How could she be getting the tingles over Luke Taggart when two of the people she loved most in the world were locked up in jail?
Gulping down a strange lump that had lodged in her throat, she finally managed to say, “Of course I don’t mind if you drop by. But, Mr. Taggart, it’s really not your concern what happens to me and Khristos. I wish you wouldn’t trouble yourself.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“No, really. It’s enough that you’re being so kind about Papa and Ambrose. You’ve been as grievously wronged as they have been—maybe even more so—and I—”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted, patting her hand and then releasing his hold on her.
Glad to have her hand free so she could think, Cassandra moved the backs of her fingers over her skirt, trying to rub away the electrical sensation that still lingered there.
“This is all a terrible mess,” he went on, “and because it happened, you and your little brother are going to need help. Strictly speaking, the families of my employees aren’t my concern, I suppose, but I’ve never really looked at it that way. And I certainly can’t in this instance, not believing as I do that your father and brother were hoodwinked.”
“But I—”
“No buts,” he said gently. “I’m making your welfare my concern, end of discussion.” His amber eyes glowed like banked embers in the shadows. “If I request a favor of you, Cassandra, will you promise to try to do it for me?”
At that moment, Cassandra felt so indebted to him, she could have denied him nothing. “Yes, of course.”
“Then I want you to promise you won’t worry. I’ll find a workable solution to everything. You have my word on it.”
His dark face suddenly seemed to swim in her vision, and she realized she was looking up at him through tears. Blinking furiously, she swiped at her cheeks, then glanced away, embarrassed to have so little control over her emotions. It was just—well, he was so incredibly kind. When she thought of all the mean and nasty things some of the people in this town said about him, it made her so angry, she wanted to wring their necks.
He caught her chin and brushed at the wetness on her cheeks. Once again, his touch was wonderfully light. Cassandra gazed up at his sharply carved features and the slight smile that kicked up one corner of his mouth. He was beautiful, she thought dreamily. In a very masculine sort of way, of course. Rather like she pictured one of God’s archangels, incredibly strong and invincible, with a goldenness about him that gleamed in his hair and eyes.
“Will you be at home around ten in the morning?” he asked.
“I…well, yes. I can make it a point to be.”
He nodded. “An idea has just occurred to me, but before I discuss it with you, I need to think it through and consult with my attorney.”
“All right.”
The soft, tremulous sound of her voice made something catch in Luke’s chest. She was giving him that look again, as if he could slay dragons. For reasons beyond him, he didn’t like the feeling it gave him. Didn’t like it at all. Luke had never aspired to being anyone’s hero, and he had no intention of starting now.
As he drew her back into a walk, he realized she was without the protection of her male relatives for the night. A slight smile settled on his mouth as he ran his gaze over her figure. She wasn’t unaffected by him, he felt sure. He hadn’t missed that telltale shiver that had coursed through her when he caressed her hand, or the sultry look in her eyes when she gazed up at him.
Christ, but she is lovely. Almost too lovely to be real. It had been a long while since Luke had felt such fire racing through his blood. There had been times over the last few months when he’d even entertained the notion that he might be losing his virility. Not so, he realized now.
Sweet Cassandra. When he got her delivered safely home, perhaps he would try his hand at courting Milo Zerek’s daughter, after all.
Even as Luke toyed with that thought, a small boy and a huge yellow-and-white dog slipped from between the buildings to join him and Cassandra on the sidewalk.
“Khristos!” she cried. “You startled me. I’d nearly forgotten you were waiting here.”
Soaked to the skin and shivering with cold, the child looked like a street urchin in his tattered clothing and worn-out boots. Luke couldn’t help but notice that the boy’s trousers were high-water short.
The dog wasn’t in much better shape. A shaggy beast of oversized proportions, the animal sported mud clear to its belly and had lost all the fur along the left side of its body. It appeared to Luke that the dog had been burned or, God forbid, had a bad case of mange.
“I was startin’ to think you weren’t comin’ back,” the child said, reaching up to wipe his snotty nose with his ragged jacket sleeve.
Cassandra knelt down. “Of course I came back.”
“Did you find Papa and Ambrose?”
“Yes, and they’re safe and sound.” She gave the boy a quick hug, then turned him toward Luke. “Mr. Taggart, this is my brother Khristos.”
Khristos thrust out a thin arm. Sticky little fingers pressed into Luke’s palm.
“Hello, Khristos. I’m pleased to meet you.”
“You’re my papa’s boss, ain’t ya?”
“Khristos, mind your manners,” Cassandra chided. “What do you say to Mr. Taggart?”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Taggart,” the boy mumbled.
Rubbing the stickiness from his hand onto his trousers, Luke forced himself to smile.
“And this,” Cassandra said with a flourish of her hand toward the dog, “is Lycodomes.” She reached out to scratch the huge animal behind its floppy ear.
“What happened to his side?” Luke couldn’t resist asking.
“Kerosene, we think. When he was little more than a pup, he came home shaking and quivering, and he smelled of lantern fuel. Papa figured Lycodomes had made a pest of himself somewhere, and someone had doused him. It burned his skin, I guess. His hair fell out and never grew back.” She pressed a quick kiss atop the dog’s head. “Shake hands with Mr. Taggart, Lye-Lye.”
Luke would have happily foregone the honor, but the canine obediently sat back on its haunches and thrust out a paw. A very large, muddy paw. So much for Luke’s wiping his hand clean. Mentally cringing, he grasped the animal’s foot and made a quick pumping motion. The strong odor of wet, unwashed dog drifted up to him. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lycodomes.”
The dog gave a throaty snarl and bared all its teeth. His fangs were lethal looking.