Now I’m an object of ridicule, Maddie thought, and wondered how in the world her life had come to this.
It was at that thought that she decided to stop this charade. She turned to him and gave him her sweetest smile. “Captain Montgomery, I’m hungry.”
“But you just ate.”
What happened to men who were eager to do the bidding of a woman? “Yes, I did, but I’m hungry again. Couldn’t we find someplace to eat?”
He looked over her head. To tell the truth, he was very hungry. He had been living on dried beef and hardtack while everyone else ate fresh meat and, even better, fresh vegetables. But after the opium in the whiskey, he wasn’t going to trust eating at her table. “There’s a wagon over there, and I think they’re selling food.”
Within minutes she had both his hands loaded down with plates of food and a loaf of fresh bread to take back to Edith. She smiled up at him. “Could you please hold this for me while I make a trip to the…you know?”
He looked at the food, steam rising from it. Beef. Potatoes. Corn bread. Peas. He hardly heard what she was saying, but nodded and went to sit on a bench at the side of the wagon. He was so hungry that he’d finished his plate of food and was halfway through hers before he realized she hadn’t returned.
“Damn her,” he muttered. “Damn me,” he amended, and set off to find her. There was no way to track her in a town, but she was distinctive enough to cause people to notice her wherever she went, so he asked questions. There didn’t seem to be a man in town who hadn’t seen her, but their directions were all contradictory.
It was nearly an hour before he found her, standing in a group of Ute women and laughing. He had only a moment to wonder how they were communicating before he bore down on her.
The squaws saw him first and warned Maddie. She started to run straight into the camp, with ’Ring behind her, yelling at her to stop. The Indian women, always ready for a laugh, did everything they could to block ’Ring’s progress, until he had to pick one of the women up and set her aside.
Maddie ran through the village as fast as she could, dodging children and dogs, once bumping into a brave and apologizing profusely, but not slowing down her run. When she reached the end of the camp, she doubled back and ran toward town.
As soon as she reached the edge of town she slowed to catch her breath and smiled. She’d outwitted him as well as outrun him.
A few seconds later she felt a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up and saw him with something akin to triumph in his eyes, she gave him an I’ll-show-you look, then screamed. “Help me! Help me! Please don’t hit me again!”
Eight men leaped on ’Ring at once, and she went scurrying away. Twenty minutes later he was close on her heels again. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that his usually perfectly combed hair was mussed, there was a red place on his cheek and dust all over his clothes. She grinned and kept running.
She wasn’t sure when she began to enjoy the game, but enjoy it she did. She hid in an empty barrel and nearly giggled aloud when he stood not a foot from her and looked around. She ran into a group of men who were rolling dice on the ground, grabbed the hat off one of the men, and crouched down into the group. The men swarmed closer to help hide her. In fact, one of the men crouched much, much too close and she gave a squeal of protest when, she wasn’t positive, but she thought he pinched her thigh. She jumped, then saw Captain Montgomery turn and see her, so she started running again.
She ran into one of the many saloon tents, paused at the high, rough bar, her head on her hand, and whispered, “Whiskey.” She downed the shot in one swallow, held out the glass for another shot, then saw Captain Montgomery in the doorway. “He’s payin’,” she said, and ran toward the back. The bartender and a couple of men held the captain while he dug money out to pay for her whiskey.
Outside, she quickly asked two men to give her a boost to the top of one of the few buildings in Denver City that had a roof. The men did so gladly, but with a great deal of fumbling hands all over her body.
She stood on top of the building and watched Captain Montgomery looking for her. She had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. She took a deep breath, put her arms out and her head back. It was the first time she’d enjoyed herself in months. How precious freedom is, she thought.
When she opened her eyes, Captain Montgomery was standing below and watching her.
“Oops,” she said, laughing, and ran to the far side of the building and started scrambling down a stack of barrels and old wagon wheels. Just as she reached the ground, Captain Montgomery was there. She started to run but he caught her skirt and pulled her to him.
She fought him. Oh, heavens, she fought him, but he kept her hands away from his face, and at last he grabbed her around the waist and slung her over his hip.
“You bite one part of me and you won’t be able to sit down for a week. You understand me?”
She felt rather like a sack of feed as she was slung across his arm, but she could tell he was very angry, and angry men sometimes did unpredictable things. So, instead of fighting him, she went limp so that he had her full weight tucked under his one arm. But it didn’t seem to make any difference to him as he stomped away from the town and into the woods with her.
At last, when they were some distance from the noisy town, he dumped her onto a soft, grassy bank.
“Captain Montgomery, I—”
“Don’t you say a word, not a word! I have been ordered to protect you and I damned well plan to do it. You may think your little escapade was clever, but you have no idea what’s going on. These are people you know nothing about. They—”
“You’re the one who knows nothing,” she said calmly, and lay back against the grass. The exercise in the clear, thin mountain air had made her feel wonderful. It was the first time since she’d heard Laurel was taken that she hadn’t felt as tense as a violin bow. “Oh, Captain, don’t you have any sense of humor? Any at all?” she said languidly. It was the first time in a long while that she’d noticed wildflowers and trees and blue sky high above her head.
He didn’t say anything for a while, and she didn’t look at him, but then he lay down on the grass about a foot away from her. “I have a rather well developed sense of humor, actually. But in the last year I seemed to have lost it.”
“Oh?” she said in an encouraging way, but he said nothing. She took a breath of the clear air. “I can’t imagine a man who names his horse Satan having a sense of humor. As far as I can tell, you are all business and no play. Your idea of dealing with women is to frighten them, to intimidate them. I’m sure some women like that, but you couldn’t have had much success.”
“You know nothing about me,” ’Ring said with some anger. “Nothing whatever.”
“Then I guess we’re even, for you know nothing about me.”
He turned on his elbow to look at her, but she kept looking skyward. “Now, there you’re wrong. The truth is, Miss LaReina, I know a great deal about you.”
She gave a derisive little chuckle. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
He rolled to his back. “Shall we make a wager?”
“More of your go-to-bed-with-me deals?” There was some bitterness in her voice.
“No,” he said softly. “We’ll wager for something more important.” He didn’t acknowledge the glare she sent his way. “For twenty-four hours you won’t run away. For twenty-four hours I can sleep knowing you won’t do anything foolish.”
“And you get to define foolish?”
“Yes.”
“What do I get?”
“For twenty-four hours I’ll stay away from you.”
She smiled up at the trees. “All this is to see whether you know anything about me or not, is it?” She didn’t think she was wagering much. First of all, she was supposed to meet someone about the letters that night right here in Denver City and she had no doubt she could do that under his nose. And second, from her observation, he was a man who couldn’t see beyond
the end of his own nose. He seemed to think women were frail creatures, and she knew he had preconceived ideas about opera singers. “All right, it’s a deal. What do you know about me?”
“First of all, if you’re a duchess, I’m Queen Victoria. You know almost nothing about aristocratic lineages, and you know nothing about Lanconia. And the brooch you, ah…lost, the one that belonged to your grandmother, very pretty little thing but neither the diamonds nor the pearls were quite the quality of a duchess. What you do know about is this country. You climb these hills like you were born and raised here. You can ride a horse better than most men, and you down a shot of rotgut whiskey as though you’ve done it many times before. How am I doing so far?”
“I haven’t fallen asleep yet.”
“Also you are at ease around Indians. Unusual in a European lady, don’t you think? You don’t know Sam or Frank very well and you don’t like Edith much. It makes me wonder if you were the one who chose them. Am I right?”
“Perhaps.”
“Let’s see, what else? My guess is that you’re a virgin, or very near to being one.”
“I don’t like this, Captain.” She started to rise, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“I certainly don’t mean to offend you. I’m sure that a woman as pretty as you has had more than a few offers, but I don’t think men interest you much.”
“Men who are forced on me certainly hold no interest for me. I think I need to go back to camp now.”
He caught her arm. “There’s more, and if I must remind you, you were the one who said I know nothing about you. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, someone is blackmailing you. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I feel sure it isn’t some former lover. No, it’s something more serious—much, much more serious. You don’t frighten easily yet you’re deathly afraid of whatever is going on in your life now.”
Maddie didn’t say anything; she couldn’t.
Very softly, very gently, he took her hand in his. “I am an honorable man…Maddie,” he whispered, using the name he’d heard Edith call her. “If you would confide in me, I will do all in my power to help you, but you have to trust me.”
It took every bit of Maddie’s willpower not to tell him about Laurel. She wanted to tell someone who might understand. Someone who might react differently from Edith who had merely shrugged her shoulders. And she wanted advice too. What would she do if she got to the third camp and they didn’t let her see Laurel? What if—
To keep herself from giving in to temptation, she jumped up, standing over him. “Oh, very good, Captain Montgomery, very, very good. If you ever leave the army, perhaps you can go on the stage.” She straightened her shoulders and looked down her nose at him. “But you forgot the most important thing about me: my voice. Until you have heard me sing, you know nothing about me. All else is superficial.”
He smiled up at her. “Do you really think that bunch of drunken, greedy men are going to appreciate opera?”
“One doesn’t have to appreciate opera, or even music, for that matter, to love the sound of my voice.”
He laughed at that, genuinely laughed, a deep, sweet sound. “Vain, aren’t you?”
Her face was serious. “Absolutely not. I haven’t a vain bone in my body. My voice is a gift from God. Were I to say that it is less than it is would be a slight to God.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
She sat down beside him. “No,” she said earnestly. “I’m speaking the truth. Where else does talent come from but God? I have been singing since I was three. I was on the stage at sixteen. Every day I thank God for blessing me with the voice He gave me and I try to honor Him by taking care of it.”
He knew she deeply, sincerely believed what she was saying and, with the way she spoke, it made sense. “And you think these miners are going to love your songs? Love your La…”
“Traviata.”
“Ah, yes, the fallen woman.”
She gave him a look of speculation. “You speak Italian?”
“A little. You think these miners will love your songs?”
“Not the songs. My voice. There is a great deal of difference.”
“All right,” he said, smiling, “then show me. Sing a song for me.”
At that she stood and smiled down at him. “I apologize, Captain Montgomery, for doubting you. You do have a sense of humor. An incredible, outrageous sense of humor.”
“Oh, I see, you need, what? An orchestra? Opera singers can’t sing a cappella?”
“I could sing underwater if need be, but I sing only when I want to. Were I to sing here for you, just you, it would be a gift of great value. You have done nothing to earn such a gift.”
“The miners who fork over ten dollars tonight have earned this…gift?”
“Tonight I will not sing for one man alone but for many. There is a great, great deal of difference.”
“Oh, I see,” he said in a patronizing way, then pulled his big gold watch out of his jacket pocket. “Gift or not, it’s time for you to get back to camp now to get ready to sing tonight.”
“How do you think I functioned for twenty-five years without you to tell me what to do and when to do it?”
“I really don’t know. It bewilders me.” As he stood, he grimaced with pain.
“Getting old, Captain?”
“I think perhaps climbing rock walls to protect you from unknown men, being bitten, kicked, and elbowed, not to mention fighting off eight men this morning, are beginning to take their toll.”
“You could always go back to your fort and rest.”
“Harrison would love me to come back with my tail between my legs,” ’Ring muttered.
“And who is Harrison?”
“I’ll answer your questions as soon as you answer mine.”
“Then hell shall freeze over,” she said sweetly as she started to walk back to camp.
“Whatever, but don’t forget that I won our wager. For twenty-four hours you don’t run away.”
“You did not win the wager, Captain. I explained that to you. If you had said, ‘You are a singer,’ then you would have won, for singing is all to me.”
“I did say you were a singer.”
She turned and glared at him. “You did not so much as mention my singing.”
His eyes sparkled. “I said you were a singer.” His voice lowered. “Who travels.”
Her mouth tightened in anger, then she had to hide a smile. “Ha!” She turned on her heel and walked away. “You will see,” she said over her shoulder. “Tonight you will learn who and what I am.”
He stood, watching her walk away. She was damned interesting is what she was, he thought. And pretty, and smart—and in trouble. And she didn’t need more trouble than what she already had. He liked the way she told him she was great, no, that she had a magnificent voice. Sometimes he got so tired of women who constantly asked him if he liked their dress or hair. Maybe Toby was right. He’d said all the Montgomery boys had it too easy when it came to women. They had looks and money, and women didn’t usually ask for more. Toby’d said it wasn’t fair, for he, Toby, had never had either, so, to win women, he’d had to be nice to them, to court them.
’Ring watched Maddie walk ahead of him. His good looks hadn’t seemed to make an impression on her, and he doubted if she’d care one way or the other if he told her of his family’s money. After all, how could money impress someone who’d spent her childhood wearing a little crown and traveling amid her people? He laughed out loud, then regained control when a couple of people stared at him. She was a liar, true, but she was an interesting one and a creative one. Maybe she needed less protection than he’d originally thought, but he was going to stick around her, if for no other reason than to see what happened next. Chasing her around a dirty gold mining town sure beat the army life that, as Toby frequently pointed out, for the most part, could bore a dead man.
He smiled and watched the sway of her skirt across ample hips.
Chapter 5
All right,” ’Ring said to Toby. “You understand everything I told you? Remember everything?”
They were in a tent set up at the back of the large log shell that would someday be a hotel but for tonight was a stage for Maddie’s singing.
“I can’t very well forget,” Toby said in disgust. “You’ve told me twenty times in the last ten minutes. We’re to keep the audience quiet and if anybody acts like he don’t like her singin’, we’re to break his head.”
“More or less,” ’Ring said, looking at his watch again.
“What’s eatin’ you anyway? I ain’t never seen you so nervous. You act like you’re about to have a baby.”
“Not quite but close. She thinks these drunks will like her singing.”
“I thought she was smarter’n that.”
’Ring sighed. “You should hear her. She thinks her voice is a gift from God. Maybe it is, but it’s a gift to men in cutaways, to men who drink champagne. To men who live on Taos Lightning, I think they’re going to want to see her legs.”
“That ain’t a bad idea.”
’Ring shot him a look of disgust.
“We can’t all be as high-minded as you. I heard about you two in town today. I ain’t never heard of you chasin’ a woman in public or private. Did you really carry her off into the trees?”
’Ring didn’t answer but just looked at his watch again.
“You two get up to somethin’ in the woods?”
“Yes,” ’Ring snapped. “We talked. Ever try doing that with a woman?”
“Why would I want to? Bein’ in the army gives me the chance to hear more talkin’ than I ever wanted to hear. You even kiss her?”
“Toby, shut up.”
Toby grinned.
Maddie looked at her music one more time. She was to sing a few familiar arias, songs with catchy tunes, a couple of songs that showed off her voice to its best advantage, and then “America the Beautiful” to close the program.
Frank had come up with a piano, dented and scarred from its trip across the plains, but he’d worked on tuning it and had it working well enough. Frank was fairly talented and she thought he might once have been a musician, but he must have left the possibility of a musical career behind when he’d entered the ring. She had never asked him about his life. A face like his tended to put one off exchanging confidences.