The Heart's Pursuit Read online

  She plopped down onto the seat in the passenger coach. Hard as a rock. At least the trip wasn’t long. Her ankle throbbed too, but she’d put up with worse over the last month.

  As for Jared, she hoped he was miserable, wherever he was by now.

  Dean shoved the saddlebags beneath the seat, then sat opposite her. It might not have been the best thing, bringing him with her, but she wouldn’t leave him behind the way Jared had left her. Dean belonged with her now. Whatever came, he belonged with her.

  The boy squinted at her. “You doin’ okay, Miss Silver?”

  “I’m fine, Dean. Thank you.”

  Please, God, take care of us. Keep us from danger. And have mercy upon my family. Please let there be a reward or enough of Father’s money left.

  Jared stepped out of the Silver City jail. He was disappointed but not surprised to find the prisoner and suspect of three murders wasn’t Matt Carlton. The man had, indeed, fit the physical description, but he didn’t have the distinctive scar, nor had he been in Colorado in recent months. Jared had confirmed all of that with the sheriff. The man had been right there in Idaho for the past year.

  Jared placed his hat on his head, then stepped off the boardwalk and started across the street toward the hotel, hoping to find something to eat and a cheap room for the night. The southbound stage wouldn’t be through Silver City until the next afternoon. The wait would be intolerable, especially because his coming had been in vain.

  As he ate, his thoughts drifted to Silver. Had she forgiven him by now, seen the wisdom in his decision to come to Silver City without her? When she got mad, she turned as cold and unyielding as an iceberg in the Arctic. Luckily for him, she usually thawed before giving him a piece of her mind. Her impulsive nature could get her into trouble too. She needed someone to keep that impulsiveness in check.

  She needs me to keep it in check.

  But did she really need him? She deserved someone better than a bounty hunter. He had nothing to offer her, even after they caught up with Matt Carlton. If they caught up with him.

  Reality was the guns strapped to Jared’s thighs and days spent in the saddle as he chased one fugitive from the law after another. It wasn’t the gray-eyed beauty from Colorado. He’d best remember it.

  CHAPTER 25

  Helplessness washed over Silver as she gazed along the main street of Virginia City. She hadn’t imagined the town would be this big. A continuous line of roofs stretched for a distance of five miles—or so she’d been told—and more spread out on either side, rising up the mountain on her right and downward on her left. Thirty thousand people lived in Virginia City and its sister city of Gold Hill. Thirty thousand souls hoping to get rich, one way or another. Dust filled the air as horses and wagons moved along the thoroughfares. The sun baked the arid mountain terrain, scorching the flowers planted by women trying to bring a little color to this corner of the world.

  How on earth would she find Matt Carlton in such a place? Assuming he’d come here at all. There were dozens of saloons and gambling dens and nearly as many hotels. It would take her days to search out each. Perhaps Jared had already found him. Perhaps Jared was somewhere in Virginia City right now, counting his reward.

  She thought of the small stash of money she possessed. How long would it last? The prices she’d seen in store windows were exorbitantly high. If she turned around now, perhaps she would have enough to purchase two tickets to Colorado. But only if she did it right away.

  A wagon lumbered past them, and Silver’s gaze was caught by the stoop-shouldered man holding the reins. His bald head was bare, his expression one of defeat. A woman, her face dour and bleak, sat beside him on the seat. The wagon bed was piled high with what Silver assumed was all they had left to call their own.

  She thought of her parents being thrown out of their home. Where would they go? What would they do? Would they wind up someplace like this with no money and no hope? She couldn’t let that happen to them, no matter what she had to go through. She couldn’t back out now.

  She grasped Dean’s hand within her own. “We’d better find a place to stay.”

  Three doors down, they entered the lobby of the Banner Hotel. Silver walked up to the counter, nerves making her throat dry.

  “Sir,” she said to the clerk, “how much for a room?”

  “Haven’t got any empty ones. Whole town’s like that.” He eyed her over his glasses, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Got me a storeroom I can put a couple of cots in. I’d let you have it for five dollars.”

  “Per week?”

  “Per night.”

  She felt her eyes widen. “But that’s robbery.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe so. Take it or leave it.”

  “Is there a boardinghouse nearby? A respectable boardinghouse.”

  The clerk barked a laugh. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you come to the wrong town, missy.”

  Her stomach now tied in knots, Silver drew Dean outside again.

  “Where we goin’ now?” the boy asked.

  “We’ll keep looking. There has to be someplace we can afford to stay for a few nights.”

  Half an hour and five hotels later, Silver continued to lead Dean along the boardwalk, despair giving way to panic. She was tired, hungry, and terribly afraid. How could they afford anything in this town?

  As they approached a dressmaking shop, sandwiched between a dry goods store and a drugstore, a buxom woman carrying a parasol stepped through the doorway onto the boardwalk. The lavender parasol with its white lace edging hid the woman’s face from view, but it was the gown that captured Silver’s attention. It had been a long time since she’d seen anything so lovely.

  The violet silk dress had a trained skirt trimmed with four scalloped flounces, each surmounted by a band of black velvet ribbon. The overskirt and waist were a lighter shade of violet faille with white lace and black velvet ribbons and bows. The sleeves were long with lacy cuffs, and the woman’s hands were covered with matching gloves. She looked dressed for an audience with a king, not a day of shopping in a dry and dusty town like Virginia City.

  The woman turned toward Silver as she switched the parasol to her other shoulder. Silver’s breath caught, the lovely dress forgotten. The woman had the face of an angel, every angle perfection. She might be twenty; she might be thirty-five or older. She appeared timeless.

  The woman’s light blue eyes were friendly as she met Silver’s gaze. She inclined her head slightly. “Good day.”

  How embarrassing to be caught staring. “Hello,” Silver whispered in response.

  “You look lost. May I help you find something? Or someone?”

  Silver remembered the string of hotels behind her and blurted out, “We’re looking for a place to stay. Someplace affordable. My funds are limited.”

  Soft laughter escaped the woman’s cherry-pink lips. “There is little affordable in Virginia City.” She held out a gloved hand. “My name is Corinne Duvall.”

  “I’m Silver Matlock.” She shook the woman’s hand and felt the roughness of her fingers catch on the delicate fabric of the other’s glove. “And this is Dean.”

  “How do you do, sir.” Corinne shook the boy’s hand before her eyes shifted back to Silver. “How long do you intend to stay in Virginia City, Mrs. Matlock?”

  “I . . . I’m not sure . . . And it’s Miss Matlock.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  Silver flushed as she realized what the other woman thought. “Dean is not my son. His parents died recently. I . . . I’m caring for him.”

  “Well, it would not have shocked me if he were your son, though you would have been a very young mother.” Corinne’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “If your funds are limited, I assume you’ll be looking for suitable employment as well as a place to stay?”

  “Yes . . . I . . . I suppose so.” What had she thought? That she would waltz into Virginia City, capture Matt Carlton, collect a reward, and go home in style? As happened all too
often, she’d acted without thinking through all of the possible consequences.

  “Then perhaps I can be of some help. If you’ll come with me, Miss Matlock.” With a hand lifting the front of her skirt enough to reveal the toes of her violet walking shoes, Corinne Duvall led the way toward a buggy tied in front of the dry goods store. “Put your things in the back, Miss Matlock.” She stepped into the buggy and took up the reins.

  Silver hesitated, unsure what she should do. “Miss Duvall, we can’t impose. We are strangers.”

  “My dear girl, Virginia City is filled with nothing but strangers. They come and they go all the time. I would have no friends at all if I waited until I knew someone well. I remember what it was like, arriving in town without knowing a soul. Besides, this street isn’t the safest place for a beautiful woman to be, especially with evening approaching. Come along now. It’s obvious your ankle bothers you, and you shouldn’t be walking on it. Get in.”

  Feeling swept downriver by a strong current, Silver obeyed. As soon as Dean climbed into the back, Corinne slapped the reins against the horse’s rump, sending the buggy rolling down the street.

  Jared glared at the hotel clerk. “What do you mean, she’s not here?”

  “Just what I said. She paid her bill and left.”

  “Where did she go? When did she leave?”

  “It’s not my business, mister, to be askin’ the guests where they’re going, but she checked out three days ago.”

  Jared swallowed his frustration. “Thanks.” He turned toward the exit.

  “Mister!”

  He turned again.

  “She left some things behind. Said they was yours if you came back. I put ’em in the storage room behind the kitchen.” He pointed.

  “Thanks,” Jared repeated. “I’m going to the livery to get my horse. I’ll be back for my things when I’m done.”

  He walked toward the livery stable. “Foolish, stubborn woman,” he muttered beneath his breath. She’d probably left Winnemucca to give him a dose of his own medicine. It wasn’t enough for her to wait for him as he’d told her in his note. No, she had to take the money and buy herself a train ticket out of here. And it didn’t take much of an imagination to guess where she’d gone. He paused inside the barn doorway. “Mr. Crandon!”

  The blacksmith stepped out of a stall, a pitchfork in hand. His eyes narrowed when he recognized Jared. “I wondered if you’d be comin’ back.”

  “I told you I would return.” He looked down the row of stalls on his left until he found the familiar black-and-white head poking over the rail. The pinto nickered. “You didn’t think I’d leave my horses behind, did you?”

  The smithy shrugged as he set aside the pitchfork. “I didn’t know what to think after that lady friend of yours come in and sold me her mare.”

  “She what?”

  “Sold me that mare o’ hers. She’s standing out back there. I got me a buyer comin’ by t’ look at her later.”

  Jared had left Silver enough money to hold both her and the boy until he got back. She wouldn’t sell Cinder without a good reason. That horse meant a lot to her.

  He stepped toward the blacksmith. “Did she say where she was going?”

  “No, sir.”

  Jared didn’t need anyone to tell him where she’d gone. He knew her well enough by now. Nor did he need anyone to tell him that she hadn’t received the money he’d left her. Only desperation would have caused her to sell the buckskin.

  Jared pointed at the man. “Do not sell that horse. I’ll be back for it and my pinto.”

  “I paid good money for it. Got a right to sell it if I want to.”

  “You’ll have your money.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the stables.

  Corinne Duvall’s palatial home sat on a hillside overlooking Virginia City. It was an enormous redbrick structure with white shutters at the windows and a veranda on three sides. Rosebushes twined around the narrow columns on either side of the front steps. Unlike elsewhere in this scruffy mining town, a skilled gardener had succeeded in producing colorful blooms and a patch of green lawn. The moment Corinne stopped the buggy, the front door opened and a short, slight man dressed all in black hurried toward them.

  “Thank you, Chung,” Corinne said as he helped her from the buggy. “Please take Miss Matlock’s things to the blue room.” She glanced toward Silver. “Come with me, dear.”

  Silver got down as instructed, then paused to stare at the three-story house before her. All she’d done was ask for directions to an inexpensive place to stay, and now she, a complete stranger, was invited to stay in this mansion. It was more than a little unusual.

  Dean’s hand gripped hers, causing her to look at him. Her own surprise was mirrored in his eyes. He’d probably never seen anything like this house. His home had been a shack on the high desert. He had to be even more overwhelmed by this than Silver.

  She squeezed his fingers. “I guess we might as well go inside. I can’t see that it will do any harm. Can you?”

  Dean shook his head.

  “All right. If nothing else, we can see if it’s as fancy inside as out.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Corinne Duvall waited for them in the entry hall. She leaned the handle of her parasol against the wall, a panel of violet silk balancing on the shiny parquet floor, then removed her gloves, laying them one on top of the other on the dark mahogany table near the front doors. Watching her reflection in the mirror above the table, she freed her bonnet and lifted it from her yellow curls.

  “I love hats, but they can get tiresome,” Corinne said, meeting Silver’s eyes in the mirror. Then she waved a manicured hand toward an arched doorway. “Let’s get comfortable, shall we, and you can tell me about yourself and why you’ve come to Virginia City.”

  Silver’s hand tightened around Dean’s as they followed the woman into a large parlor. There were fireplaces with elaborate screens at both ends of the room. To the right was a white grand piano, its curved edges trimmed with gold paint. A white fur rug lay beneath it. Several groupings of chairs were placed about the high-ceilinged room, and plenty of light spilled through the glass windows, their heavy brocade drapes pulled open and tied back.

  Dominating everything else in the room, above the far mantel, was an enormous portrait—at least fifteen feet high—of Corinne Duvall in a riding habit. Silver couldn’t help staring at it.

  “Quite good, isn’t it? I believe the artist earned his commission.”

  Silver glanced over her shoulder toward Corinne.

  “Maurice, the artist, was in love with me when he painted it. You can tell. He was kind to me.”

  “He wasn’t kind. It looks just like you.” Silver’s gaze returned to the portrait.

  “When I was younger, perhaps. No more.”

  Corinne Duvall was wrong. She was still as beautiful if not as young.

  “Come, Miss Matlock. Join me.” Silver turned to find Corinne now seated on a white-and-gold brocade sofa. She gestured toward a companion piece not far away. “Please sit down.”

  “Miss Duvall, I—”

  “Everyone calls me Miss Corinne. Please do so. And will you allow me to call you Silver?”

  “Of course. But I don’t understand why you brought us to your home. All we wish is to find a place to stay that is clean and safe and that we can afford.”

  “Those are the very reasons I brought you home with me, my dear. Virginia City is not a safe place for an unaccompanied woman. Particularly not for one as attractive as you. If I’d left you in town, goodness knows what might have happened to you. We have more than our share of drunkards, outlaws, and cutthroats in Virginia City.” Once again she motioned toward the nearby sofa. “Now, please sit and tell me about yourself.”

  Silver felt she had little choice but to obey.

  Corinne smiled, prompting gently, “Where are you from?”

  “A small town in Colorado, near Denver.”

  “And what brought you to Nevada?�
�

  Silver hesitated. What should she say?

  “A man?”

  Yes, but not the way Corinne meant.

  “When I came to Virginia City, I was a penniless orphan. To survive, I worked in a saloon and entertained the men. It wasn’t a nice existence. But I was smart and I was lucky, and I managed to change my life for the better.” Corinne’s smile was fleeting. “There are many reasons why girls end up in a place like Virginia City. I try to keep as many as possible from going through what I went through.”

  Silver didn’t understand Corinne’s full meaning, and yet a shudder passed through her for the little she did comprehend.

  The Chinese manservant appeared in the doorway carrying a silver tray.

  “Ah, my afternoon tea.” Corinne motioned him forward. “Thank you, Chung. You’ll have some too, won’t you, Silver? Such a civilized practice—tea in the afternoon.”

  The manservant set the tray on the low table between the sofas.

  “Chung,” Corinne said, “when we are finished with our tea, please show Miss Matlock to the blue room and draw her a bath. The boy should have the room at the end of the hall on the third floor. The one on the north side.”

  It seemed settled. Silver and Dean were staying. At least for one night. She could decide about what came next tomorrow.

  Steam rose around Silver’s face as she reclined in the porcelain tub. She hadn’t felt anything this wonderful in a month of Sundays. A lazy glance took in the opulence of the bathing room with its ornate molding, gilded mirror, and multicolored bottles of sweet-smelling bath salts and perfumes.

  Finally, with the water growing cool, Silver stepped from the bathtub and dried herself with a plush towel. She wrapped her hair in a second towel. It would still be damp when she went down to supper, but she didn’t care. It was clean, and she felt renewed because of it. Even her ankle seemed better because of the bath.