The Sheriff
“Here you are indeed,” said Conlin, charmed and amazed that this spirited young woman registered no complaints whatsoever regarding a route most found extremely difficult.
“I’m so glad to be in California,” she said. “And I can hardly wait to reach Fortune.”
“Well, the Lady Luck will be getting under way very shortly,” he stated. “Time for me to disembark. You’ll be okay? You don’t need anything or…”
“You’ve been most kind, Mr. Conlin.” Kate thanked him warmly.
“My pleasure, Miss VanNam,” he said with a smile. “Should you decide you’ve had enough of Fortune, just hop the steamer coming downriver and return to San Francisco. Our firm will work something out with you, take the Fortune property off your hands.”
“I’ll remember that,” Kate said, and bade him goodbye.
In minutes the Lady Luck left the harbor. Soon it was steaming its way up the American River toward the towering Sierra Nevadas to the east.
Within an hour the vessel left the coastal hills behind and rode a rising tide up the long, winding waterway.
Two days later as Kate boarded the much smaller steamer at Golden Quest that would take her the rest of the way to Fortune, she entered the main cabin and looked curiously around. It was empty. There were rows of wooden seats. She chose one by a porthole, lowered her valise and sat down. She hoped against hope that no one would sit beside her. She wanted the opportunity to doze. She hadn’t slept well on the Lady Luck and was tired.
She started in alarm when she spotted coming down the aisle an unshaven, mean-looking man whose wrists were clamped in irons.
Kate tensed, then released her held breath when a skinny, sandy-haired fellow shoved the bearded character down into a seat across the aisle and two rows up. He then sat down beside him.
The man in irons looked back over his shoulder. His gap-toothed, leering grin sent a chill of distaste darting up her spine. Quickly, she turned her head and looked out the porthole.
“Would you mind if I sit beside you, miss?” a friendly voice asked. Kate looked up and saw a white-haired, well-dressed gentleman with a craggy, but kindly face smiling down at her. “Allow me to introduce myself,” the elderly gentleman said, thrusting out his hand. “I’m Dr. Milton Ledet and I’m on my way up to Fortune, just as you are.”
The steamer began to slowly move away from the levee as Kate nodded. “Kate VanNam, Dr. Ledet,” she replied, shaking the offered hand. “Yes, by all means, please join me.”
“Thank you, child.” The elderly physician took the seat beside her. “I so enjoy having a bit of company on long journeys, don’t you?” Not waiting for an answer, he added, “Have I seen you in Fortune before, Miss VanNam? Or is it Mrs. VanNam?”
“Miss. And no, you have not,” she replied. “I’ve never been there.”
The doctor’s white eyebrows lifted. “Then I suppose you live in San Francisco and you’re going up to visit a…?”
“No, sir. I am moving to Fortune from Boston, Massachusetts. I intend to make Fortune my new home.”
“Oh, my dear Miss VanNam,” Doc Ledet exclaimed impulsively, “I’m afraid you’ll find Fortune quite different from the charming old city of Boston.”
“I am well aware of that, Doctor,” she said with conviction. “No doubt there will be a degree of adjustment, but I don’t mind. The truth is I look forward to the challenges ahead.”
Dr. Ledet was instantly curious. Why would this beautiful young woman move to a mountain mining community she had never seen before? Not for a minute did the doctor entertain the possibility that she might be aiming to join the ranks of numerous “ladies of the evening” servicing the lonely miners. There was an innate dignity about her that spoke of good breeding and background. But why was this beautiful, golden-haired girl moving to Fortune, where the males outnumbered the females fifty to one?
Dr. Ledet longed to question her, but was wise enough to wait until she was ready to tell him.
“You probably know my reason for moving to Fortune,” Kate said, as though she’d read his mind.
“Let me guess,” he said, and rubbed his chin. “You have a sweetheart that came out to the goldfields, got settled in, sent for you and now you’re joining him to get married?”
“Heavens, no!” She waved a hand in the air as though it was a preposterous idea. Proudly, she stated, “I have inherited a gold mine.”
“You don’t say,” he replied. “Why, that’s wonderful! Is the mine…?”
“The Cavalry Blue,” Kate interrupted. “You may have heard of it?”
The physician exhaled heavily. “The Cavalry Blue,” he repeated, his brows knitted. “Arielle Colfax’s old diggings.”
“Yes, my dear great-aunt. You knew her?”
“Yes, I did. I knew Arielle, albeit briefly, and her husband, Benjamin. He was a geologist who came out West with Freemont.” Dr. Ledet shook his head. “Miss VanNam, I hate to tell you this, but the Cavalry Blue has been boarded up for years. Ever since your aunt left Fortune.” He paused, then as gently as possible said, “My dear, there’s never been a single ounce of gold brought out of that mine.”
Kate smiled, undeterred. “That’s excellent, Dr. Ledet.”
“It is?”
“Why, yes. Obviously all the gold is still inside, just waiting for me to bring it out.”
Charmed by her childlike exuberance, the elderly doctor had no wish to burst her bubble. That would happen soon enough. He said, “Could well be, child. Could well be.”
Kate kept glancing out at the changing scenery. The banks bordering the ever narrowing river had become lofty cliffs forested with tall, fragrant pines. She was enchanted.
And all the while she conversed with her congenial companion. Kate learned that the doctor was a childless widower who had left his San Francisco practice after Mary, his cherished wife of thirty-three years, contracted scarlet fever from one of his patients. She had died three days later.
Dr. Ledet had been in Fortune for the past six years, and Kate had plenty of questions about the community she planned to call home. He had all the answers and was glad to share them. Enjoying his captive audience, Milton Ledet regaled Kate with tales of the wild and woolly town where he practiced medicine. He knew just about everyone who lived in Fortune and had a story to tell about most of them.
Kate was fascinated by the colorful yarns, which made the time pass quickly. As morning turned to afternoon, Kate noticed that the air thinned so dramatically she was having a little difficulty breathing.
She heard the physician say calmly, “Take a deep, slow breath, Miss VanNam.”
Kate nodded and obeyed.
“They say it’s the air the angels breathe,” he stated. “We’re getting close to Fortune.” He rubbed his chin. “Now where was I?”
He continued by telling her that at one time or another, he had cared for just about every citizen in town.
The steamer rounded a bend in the narrowing fork of the river and the buildings of Fortune loomed just ahead.
Laughing, Dr. Ledet said, “All but one, that is. The sheriff.”
“The sheriff has never been sick or injured?”
“No doubt he has, but he’s never sought my services,” said the doctor. “He patches himself up and goes on with business. He’s one tough son of a gun, begging your pardon for my crude language, Miss VanNam. He was hired by the Committee of Vigilance—of which I myself am a senior member—to keep the peace, and Travis McCloud rules Fortune with fast fists and faster guns,” he declared, his eyes twinkling. “Step out of line and you have to deal with the fearless Marshal McCloud.” He paused, then smiled at Kate.
Feeling as if she were expected to comment, but not knowing what to say, she said, “And this courageous sheriff, is he from San Francisco or…?”
“No, no. McCloud’s a native Virginian. Came from an aristocratic Tidewater family.” The steamer was sliding slowly toward Fortune’s levee. “McCloud was educated to be a physician like me, but he—”
“He’s a murderer!” muttered the man in irons from across the aisle. He was then roughly urged to his feet. “Killed a man back in—”
“Move it!” ordered the armed, sandy-haired guard, prodding the prisoner up the narrow aisle.
Kate gasped at the startling accusation. She immediately turned questioning eyes on her companion. “Can that be?”
The steamer’s whistle blasted loudly in the thin mountain air, silencing her.
“We’re here,” Doc Ledet announced as the vessel came to a stop, its hull slapping gently up against the wooden dock. Smiling, he pointed and said, “There’s our sheriff now.”
Curious, Kate looked out the porthole.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a black hat with the brim pulled low over his eyes stepped up to the lowering gangway. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt, black leather vest and black trousers. A gun belt with a brace of Colt revolvers rode low on his slim hips.
As Kate stared, he lifted a hand and with the tip of his long index finger, he pushed up the brim of his hat, releasing a shock of coal black hair onto his high forehead. The move afforded Kate a good look at his face.
She quickly sucked in her breath.
Fortune’s fearless sheriff was a ruggedly handsome man with smooth olive skin, soaring cheekbones, a straight nose, sensual lips and eyes of a color she couldn’t quite determine, shaded as they were by long, curling lashes.
“That’s him, sure enough,” said the physician. “Marshal Travis McCloud. He’s here to take possession of that foul-mouthed prisoner that came up on the steamer with us.”
Kate continued staring at the imposing sheriff. There was a strong masculinity about him in the set of his lean, hard body, the way his broad shoulders moved. He came forward to meet his skinny, sandy-haired deputy and the man in irons as they stepped down from the gangplank.
“I’ll take over, Jiggs,” Kate heard the marshal say in a surprisingly soft voice with a slight Southern accent.
“He…the sheriff looks…he looks mean,” Kate murmured over her shoulder, unable to take her eyes off the most compelling man she had ever seen.
“I doubt he’ll be mean to you, Miss VanNam,” the doctor said, adding with a chuckle, “that is, unless you misbehave. Then he’ll have to throw you in jail.”
“I’ll be very careful,” she answered with a laugh, but felt a shiver skip her up spine at the prospect.
“Here, let me help you with that,” said Dr. Ledet when Kate lifted her heavy valise and started down the gangway.
“No, thank you.” She turned down his kind offer of assistance. “I can manage. It’s been a genuine pleasure visiting with you, Doctor.”
The man beamed. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, although not as a patient. You take care of yourself and stay well. You need anything, Kate, you let me know. My office is two doors down from the Eldorado Hotel. You can’t miss it.”
Kate smiled, nodded and left him. She carried her belongings from the riverfront to Main Street. The hotel that the doctor had mentioned was the first one she saw. Kate entered the Eldorado, checked into a third-floor room, glanced around and immediately focused on the big double bed.
She smiled and hurried to examine the mattress and bedding, turning back the covers and admiring the clean white sheets. She sighed with pleasure. The two things she wanted most in life were hers to be had in this hotel room.
A bath and a bed.
Soon Kate, fresh from her hot, relaxing bath, climbed into that soft, clean bed and smiled.
She fell asleep at sundown.
Four
At sundown Fortune came alive.
Thirsty miners hit the town’s many saloons the minute they laid down their picks and shovels. Tired and dirty, the men swarmed into the bars, eager for their first bracing shot of rotgut whiskey.
In Fortune’s most favored saloon, the Golden Nugget, the long polished bar, faro wheels and poker tables filled up as the sun slipped fully behind the western mountain peaks. Loud piano music resounded up and down the busy streets as the shrill feminine laughter of painted women in gaudy gowns mingled with the voices of lusty miners.
The man who single-handedly saw to it that trouble stayed away from his town was presently at the Golden Nugget.
But he wasn’t downstairs.
Sheriff Travis McCloud was enjoying a hot bath in a plush upstairs suite at the soft hands of Miss Valentina Knight, the Golden Nugget’s beautiful songbird owner and Travis’s favorite female companion.
With his clothes neatly draped across a blue brocade-covered chaise longue, and his black hat hooked on the newel of a high-backed rocker, the six-foot-three-inch Travis sat in a suds-filled tub with his knees and torso sticking up out of the steaming water.
Feeling relaxed and enjoying himself, he smoked a fine Cuban cigar and drank Kentucky bourbon from a lead crystal glass, while the prettiest woman in Fortune gently scrubbed his broad shoulders with a soft-bristled, long-handled brush.
“Feel good, Marshal?” Valentina asked as she drew the brush back and forth over his gleaming back.
“Mmm,” he replied lazily, his eyes half-closed, his even white teeth clamped firmly on his lit cigar.
Valentina smiled, pleased. She loved giving this big handsome sheriff a soapy, sensuous bath. She loved even more the moment when he stepped out of the tub, allowed her to dry him off, and then spent the next hour in her soft bed while she cuddled in his strong arms.
Those fleeting golden moments were as much of Travis McCloud as she would ever have.
So she made the most of his visits.
Valentina Knight was a clever woman. She knew that she couldn’t hem Travis in, so she never tried. She realized that the reason she, and she alone, was allowed to entertain the handsome marshal was because she was convenient and made no demands on him.
Valentina Knight was a beautiful, porcelain-skinned Creole who had come out West from her New Orleans home to seek her fortune. She had wisely surmised that the goldfields of California offered an opportunity to make lots of money without ever going near a mine. There were, she had read, literally thousands of men pouring into the many mining camps springing up across the Sierra Nevadas. They were willing to part with their precious gold dust for a drink and a smile from a pretty woman.
Valentina had guessed correctly.
In this male-dominated world with very few women and little semblance of customary society, she had become very wealthy during the four years she had owned the Nugget.
She was a respected citizen of Fortune who turned heads wherever she went, but it was more than her raven hair and magnolia skin that made her so desirable. Her generosity, charm and wit secured her position as the object of affection to Fortune’s many menfolk.
When she came downstairs to sing for the miners, they immediately fell silent. They gazed worshipfully at the sweet-voiced vision in the stunning gowns that accentuated her voluptuous figure, in the diamonds that sparkled at her throat and ears.
It was a whispered, well-known secret that in her plush upstairs suite, she drank—from fragile stemmed glasses—vintage French champagne delivered by Wells Fargo. And fresh cut flowers, that rarest of all luxuries, were delivered daily.
The lovely Creole had a French maid, a must for the most prosperous of the frontier madams. Gigi responded to the summons of the richly brocaded bell-pulls, then prudently disappeared when her mistress was entertaining the town sheriff.
When Valentina went out, she rode behind matched blacks in a Brewster carriage imported across the Isthmus of Panama at great expense. Sable muff, scarf and lap robe kept her warm on exhilarating winter rides. Gloves, straw hat and silk parasol protected her porcelain skin on summer jaunts.
Valentina Knight had everything.
Except the man she loved.
Travis McCloud.
The lawman’s heart would never belong to her even though hers belonged to him. Valentina never so much as batted a flirtatious eyelash at any other man, nor would she allow another to make to love to her.
Now, as she rinsed the soap off of the most magnificent male chest she’d ever laid eyes on, Valentina shivered with sweet anticipation of the lovemaking ahead.
“We have two whole hours before I must go downstairs to sing,” she said as Travis gently moved her hand away and rose to his feet, water sluicing down his body.
Valentina picked up a large white towel and began blotting moisture from his clean, wet flesh. “Promise you’ll spend those two hours right here with me?”
“You talked me into it, darlin’,” said Travis with a smile.
He motioned for her to back away, and stepped out of the tub. Valentina rose to her feet before him. He took the towel from her and finished drying off. She stayed where she was as Travis dropped the damp towel, turned and padded across the patterned Persian carpet to the bed. He stretched out on his back atop the satin sheet and laid his dark head on an abundance of soft feather pillows resting against the ornately carved headboard.
Valentina shivered deliciously.
If ever there was a sight that was pleasing to her, it was that of the lean lawman lying naked on her bed. The darkness of his skin against the whiteness of the sheets never failed to delight her senses. His fierce masculine power, unclothed and unprotected, was for the moment hers and hers alone.
Valentina began to sway seductively toward the bed. A subtle but purposeful movement of her shoulders made the shimmering satin lapels of her long, ice blue robe part, revealing to her naked lover tempting glimpses of her full breasts. She raised a hand, took the diamond pins from her hair and allowed her dark, lustrous locks to spill down around her shoulders.
She laid the pins on the marble-topped night table, then leaned over and gave the sheriff’s tight belly a wet, warm kiss.
Travis sucked in his breath. His hand came down to clasp a handful of her hair and gently pull her head up. “Get in bed, baby,” he gently commanded, and she obeyed.
Valentina didn’t take off her tightly sashed robe, but left it on as she stretched out beside Travis and snuggled close against his bare torso. He kissed her, then urged her over onto her back. He moved atop her, supporting his weight on stiffened arms.
The satin of Valentina’s robe lay between them. For a time they left it there, a sensuous slippery barrier to the pleasure of penetration.
Travis found it incredibly erotic to feel the summoning heat of Valentina’s feminine softness just out of reach beneath the fabric. For Valentina it was tremendously exciting to feel the insistent power of his masculine hardness thwarted by the sleek obstruction of satin.
It was a thrilling game.
But short-lived.
Soon he levered himself up, reached between them and swept the robe out of his way. Valentina eagerly parted her legs and sighed in approval as he slid into her. She raised her knees, gripped his ribs and clung to him as they made leisurely, lusty love.
But just at the instant of climax, a gunshot rang out.
Valentina’s eyes flew open and she blinked in stunned surprise. “You got me, Sheriff!” she proclaimed, and pretended to fall over dead. Then she laughed throatily and teased, “Any ammunition left in that…?”
“Afraid not,” said Travis, and laughed with her.
Then, with a quick kiss, he pulled out, fell over onto his back, took a couple of deep, quick breaths, and got out of bed.
“No,” she protested, raising up on an elbow, “don’t go, Travis.”
“I have to, Val,” he said, pulling on his trousers. “Somebody’s firing a weapon downstairs. I’m the sheriff, remember? Hired to keep the peace.”
Five
Kate awoke at dawn feeling rested and ready to start her new life. She hummed happily as she donned a simple blue-and-white gingham dress and brushed her blond hair. Optimistic, tingling with excitement, she left the hotel with map in hand. She was eager to explore the town, but first she wanted to locate her newly inherited property and inspect the house her aunt had left her. She planned to return to the hotel for her belongings later and then move in. She was sure there would be no reason to stay another night in the hotel. She would spend it in her own home.
Kate passed—two doors down from the hotel—the offices of Dr. Milton Ledet, the kindly white-haired physician she had met on the steamer ride to Fortune. She dashed past his office windows in case he was inside. She had no time to visit this morning.
Kate walked to the very end of the sidewalk and soon left Fortune behind. Her breathing grew short from the altitude, and her legs quickly grew weak, but she climbed an ill-defined lane up through the towering green conifers and white-trunked aspens, swatting low, leafy limbs out of her way.
When she’d gone no more than a half mile, Kate stepped out into a broad, lush clearing and saw a large white house looming in the distance.
She had, she knew, located the real estate she now owned.
Set amid the tall sheltering pines, the property bordered a breathtakingly beautiful deep turquoise lake no more than a hundred yards from the front door of the house. The lake was fed by a clear, crystalline stream flowing out of the mountains on the north side of the estate. Swift waters poured down from the melting Sierra snowpack. Kate could hear the crystal water gurgling and splashing over the rocks.
With her lips parted in awe at the spectacular scenery surrounding her, Kate skirted the grassy banks of the placid turquoise lake and headed toward the house. When she stood directly before the large, two-story structure, she clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Before even going inside she could see that the once splendid Victorian mansion was uninhabitable.
Kate despaired. Like it or not, she would have to live in this badly neglected house. She had no choice. If she were to have enough money to hire men to work her mine, she could ill afford to live at the hotel, even for a brief period of time.
Kate exhaled heavily and made her way across the weed choked grounds to the mansion’s broad front steps. The second step was missing. Kate grimaced, lifted her skirts and cautiously stepped over the gaping hole.
She crossed the broad veranda and paused at the entrance. There was no front door. It had been removed from its hinges and carried away. Kate shook her head and went inside.
The mansion had been ransacked. Most of the furniture had been carted off; only a few odd pieces remained. A French gilt chair with a broken leg lay on its side before a magnificent black marble fireplace. A gigantic crystal chandelier that had been carelessly pried from the ceiling was on the floor, its fragile prisms shattered. There were blank spaces on the faded, silk-covered walls where massive mirrors and oil paintings had undoubtedly hung. Remnants of an elegant silk shade dangled from an open window.
Kate quickly realized that more than half of the solid wooden doors had been carried away. Most of the windows had been broken.
Kate climbed the stairs to the second floor. She jumped, startled, when she stepped into the spacious master suite and a bird flew in through an open window.
“Shoo! Fly away!” she shouted, chasing the winged intruder, flapping her skirts to scare it. “It’s bad luck to have a bird fly into one’s house. Get out, get out!”
The bird circled the room, then sailed away.
Kate shuddered with the dawning knowledge that the bird might not be the only creature that had the run of the place. No doubt there were black bears and sleek bobcats and all manner of dangerous animals roaming these rugged mountains. How would she stop them from taking up residence in the mansion? And how on earth could she survive the coming winter with no windows and doors to shut out the cold?
Kate shook her head again as she slowly went back down the grand staircase, whose steps sported only remnants of the fine carpet that had once covered them.