Nonetheless, because Cassandra hadn’t yet reached her majority, Luke hoped to get Milo’s blessing—not because he feared any legal repercussions, for he was pretty much above the law in this town, but because it would be simplest that way. Although Luke hated to play hardball with anyone, he wouldn’t hesitate if Zerek proved difficult.
In truth, however, he didn’t really expect to encounter any hurdles he couldn’t overcome. Once, he’d had a hunger for money and power. He understood the tug of desperate need and the lengths to which a man would go to fill that need.
Zerek was a poor man. His needs might be different than Luke’s had been, but they’d be no less pressing, for all that. Unless Zerek proved to be a very rare individual, he would be easily tempted, and just as easily bought.
When the whistle blew for shift change, Luke was sitting on a large boulder outside the mine, ready to intercept Milo when he appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. The Rocky Mountain air grew several degrees colder with the setting of the sun, and within seconds after sitting down, Luke began to feel the chill even through his thick wool jacket.
The shudder that gripped him made him thankful he wasn’t down inside the mine. There was no cold that ran so deep as that inside a tunnel. It seeped clear to the marrow of your bones and stayed with you for hours, even on hot summer nights.
Above him on a promontory, the silhouettes of scraggly spruce and cedar trees jutted against the dusky sky, a few long roots their only anchor in the rocky earth. Damp with a fine mist of rain, the crisp air smelled of evergreen and the chimney smoke from houses scattered farther down the mountain. Though it wasn’t yet quite dark, the faint glow of lantern light illuminated the windows of those dwellings, the glow lending a cheery radiance to the drab gray of the early autumn mist.
Soon, bobbing miner lights began to appear in the yawning blackness of the tunnel entrance. Luke squinted against the glare, trying to see the faces behind the bright yellow beams.
“Hello, Mr. Taggart!”
“Howdy, Mr. Taggart.”
The surprised greetings came again and again as the tired, grimy workers emerged from the blackness, dousing their headlamps as they spoke. Luke exchanged greetings with them all, doing his best to address each man by name. If there was one thing Luke had learned as a mining magnate, it was how to inspire loyalty in his men. The crew foremen couldn’t be everywhere at once, and if Luke’s workers thought of him as some rich son of a bitch who treated them like dirt, they’d be slackers every chance they got.
A few of the men stopped to exchange pleasantries. Though polite, Luke was careful to maintain a certain distance, not wishing to seem unfriendly, yet not wanting his men to forget, even for a moment, that he was their boss.
Finally, Milo Zerek emerged from the tunnel. A squat little fellow bundled in slicker trousers and a wool coat so thick it made him resemble a bear, Zerek looked startled to encounter Luke. “Mr. Taggart,” he said, inclining his head with a polite nod. “Good to see you.”
As he pushed up off the rock, Luke glanced at Zerek’s son Ambrose, who was just emerging from the digs. Taller than his father by half a head and built like a young bull, he was a handsome youth with a shock of sable hair, strong features, and cobalt eyes like Cassandra’s.
“Mr. Zerek,” Luke said, extending his hand. “You’re just the man I’ve been waiting to see. I’d like a word with you, if you can spare me a few minutes.”
Zerek rubbed his palm on his coat to remove the grime, then reached out to shake hands. Even in the dusky light, Luke could see the imprint of a headlamp across the man’s brow. Jet hair tufted in a rooster tail at his thinning crown where he’d jerked the band from his head. Gripped in his left hand, Zerek’s light and lunch pail clanked as he pumped Luke’s arm up and down.
“What’re you wantin’ to speak with me about?” Zerek asked. “Not my job performance, I hope.”
“No, nothing like that.” Luke reached past the older man to shake hands with Ambrose. “You fellows are two of my best men. I just have a proposition for you, Milo. One that I’d like to discuss privately, if you wouldn’t mind.” With an apologetic smile at Ambrose, Luke glanced back at Milo and added, “I thought, perhaps, you’d let me buy you a drink down at the Golden Slipper.”
Zerek glanced over his shoulder at his son. “The boy and me usually put in a few hours each night at our own dig before we call it a day. I reckon we can take a night off, though, if you’ve got something important to discuss with me.”
“It’s important,” Luke assured him. He directed a pointed look at Ambrose. “I apologize for excluding you, Ambrose, but the matter I need to talk with your father about is of a personal nature.”
Ambrose shrugged a muscular shoulder. “Don’t make me no never mind.” He gave his father a broad wink. “I’ll just head home and have a nice big bowl of Cassie’s stew. There’s worse things than spending an evening toasting my toes before the fire.”
Cassie’s stew. Picturing the girl standing at a hot stove, with a rosy glow on her sculpted cheeks and lantern light creating a halo around her dark hair, Luke felt a yearning that ran so deep, it stymied him. To go home every night and find her there. To see her smile. To feel that odd warmth she emanated surrounding him. He wanted that, he realized with some startlement, even more than he wanted her body, which was to a considerable degree.
As Ambrose Zerek walked off, Luke clapped Milo on the shoulder. “Well, now that that’s settled, how’s about we go get that drink?”
Milo smiled and fell into step beside Luke. In places, the path was so steep and narrow, Luke hung back to walk single file. With every step they took, the darkness became thicker. By the time they gained the bottom of the hill, they could no longer clearly see Ambrose, who walked some distance ahead of them.
“So, you do a little prospecting on the side, do you?” Luke asked as they reached more level ground.
Milo shifted his light and lunch pail from one hand to the other. “Isn’t no rule against that, is there?”
Luke chuckled. “Hell, no. As long as I get a full day’s work for a day’s wages, I don’t care what you do on your own time. Found any color yet?”
“Only a sniff,” Milo admitted. “But I have a gut feeling. There’s gold in that hole, mark my words.”
It was a familiar refrain around Black Jack. Unlike Luke, who’d struck a rich vein, most prospectors spent their entire lives chasing a dream, with nothing to show for it but a bent back and calluses on their palms. Lady Luck, their elusive mistress, usually got the last laugh.
“Well, I wish you well,” Luke said, sincerely meaning it. “There’s nothing quite like hitting pay dirt that first time.”
“I hope I get to find out for myself,” Milo replied.
Luke gazed ahead, searching for a good way to broach the subject he wished to discuss. As they gained the cobblestone sidewalk on Diamond, the main street of town, they angled right toward the Golden Slipper, the third gambling establishment on the opposite side of the thoroughfare. Piano music drifted to them, and occasionally Luke heard bursts of laughter. With the setting of the sun, things began to get lively at the various saloons around Black Jack. The miners, off work for the day, had a few hours to play, and the sporting girls, ever eager to turn a trick, began to drift downstairs to entertain them.
“I ran into your daughter today,” Luke began, “over in the churchyard. She was telling the orphans stories, and I lingered for a few minutes to listen.”
Milo nodded. “That’s my Cassie. She loves the children, that she does. Seems to me the girl oughta be thinking about getting married and havin’ some of her own.”
Luke leaped at the opening. “Eventually, yes. She’s a lovely girl, and someday she’ll make some man a fine wife.”
“Yeah, well…tell her that.” Milo shook his head. “Damned fool girl. Got her head full of nonsense, make no mistake. Thinks she wants to be a nun.”
Luke was incredulous. “A nun?”
“You heard me. Soon as my youngest boy, Khristos, is old enough to take care of himself, she plans to enter a convent.” Milo gave his head another shake, light and lunch pail clattering as he lumbered along. “Don’t misunderstand me. Even though I grew up Greek Orthodox, I raised my children to be devout Roman Catholics. It was a promise I made to my Mary Margaret, you see, God rest her sweet soul.” He quickly crossed himself and blew a kiss off the backs of his grimy knuckles. “Never a dearer woman breathed, I’ll tell you that. And I have no regrets raisin’ our kids in the church, for that was her dying wish. To be honest, I don’t have a quarrel with one of my children taking up the cloth. It’s a fine calling, being a priest or a nun. It’s just that in Cassandra’s case, it strikes me as being a terrible mistake.”
Luke nearly said “Amen.” If he’d been a praying man, he might have. “I agree. She doesn’t strike me as the sort to become a nun.”
Milo made a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. “She isn’t, and that’s a fact. Likes her pretties too much. I keep tellin’ her so, but she’s got the temperament of a little Missouri mule, just like her mama.” He crossed himself and blew another kiss into the darkness. “God rest her.”
Luke hauled in a deep breath, his thoughts in a sudden tangle. A nun? Jesus Christ.
“You know, Milo, a girl like Cassandra has a few more options than getting married or going into a convent. That’s why I asked to speak with you tonight. I have a proposition to make to you, as I said, and it involves your daughter.”
Milo shot him a curious look. “What kind of proposition?”
Luke swallowed. “Well…first of all, I’d like to point out that—” He broke off, not at all sure how to put this delicately. Beating around the bush had never been his style. “You know, Milo, even if you convince Cassandra not to enter the convent and to get married instead, she’s likely to wind up with some poor sot as her husband, and six hungry kids clinging to her skirts. It’s not very often that a girl from the mining district gets an opportunity to marry well, or to better herself financially. The offer I’m about to make will give your daughter that chance. If you give your blessing, she’ll be a very wealthy woman, after all is said and done, and she’ll never want for anything again. Neither will you, for that matter.”
Zerek’s expression had gone from curious to wary. “Why do I have a feelin’ the proposition you’re about to make has something indecent hangin’ on the tail of it?”
Luke flashed a grin. “Indecent? I guess it’s all in how you look at it. To put it frankly, I’m very taken with your daughter. With your permission, I’d like to offer her a position of employment.”
Milo swung to a sudden stop. Light from the saloon behind Luke fell across the shorter man’s dirt-streaked face. “What kind of employment?”
Judging by Milo’s expression, Luke had the feeling this wasn’t going at all well. He shrugged away the concern. When all else failed, he’d let money do his talking, and all the convincing. “Please don’t get the impression that I’m making this offer lightly. This is the first time—the only time—I’ve ever been so smitten by a young lady that I’ve considered a long-term arrangement.”
Milo narrowed an eye. “A long-term arrangement?”
Luke smiled. “Cassandra would live in my home, and for the duration of our contract, she would be treated with all the respect of a wife. She wouldn’t be required to turn her hand to any kind of work, and in return, I’d pay her a phenomenal wage, buy her beautiful clothing, and surround her with every luxury.”
Milo narrowed both eyes. “Are you askin’ me to give you my permission to make a whore of my daughter?”
“That’s a rather crass way of putting it.”
Milo rocked forward on his toes, and though he was nearly a head shorter than Luke, he did a commendable job of standing nose to nose with him. “You cocky little son of a bitch. I oughta knock those pearly white teeth of yours straight down your throat.”
Considering the fact that he outweighed Zerek by a good seventy-five pounds and was at least twenty years younger, Luke didn’t feel he was in any imminent peril. On the other hand, though, he’d seen enraged men do some amazing things, including kicking the shit out of opponents twice their size. “Now, Milo. Let’s keep this civilized.”
“Civilized? You call askin’ to make my girl a whore ‘civilized’? There isn’t enough money on God’s green earth, young man.”
“I mean no offense.”
“Well, I’m offended! The answer is no.” Zerek leveled a finger at Luke’s face. “And you stay away from my daughter. You understand? I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are, my boss or no, I’ll kill you if you touch one hair on her head. That’s a promise, boyo.”
Zerek swung away and strode angrily back down the street toward the miners’ district. Luke gazed after him a moment, stunned that the conversation had taken such an unexpected turn. He was offering Cassandra Zerek the opportunity of a lifetime. Didn’t the ornery old cuss understand that?
“Mr. Zerek, wait!”
As the older man came to a stop, Luke broke into a loose jog to catch up to him. Drawing to a halt, he rubbed the back of a hand over his mouth, no longer quite so certain money would do all his talking for him.
“Look, Mr. Zerek, you’re taking this all wrong,” he began. “I hold your daughter in highest esteem.” That sounded lame, even to Luke. He decided the blunt truth might serve him better. “She…um…” He hauled in a jagged breath, decided one lungful wasn’t enough, and grabbed for more air. “You know, it’s the strangest thing. Until I saw her in the churchyard, I didn’t really think she was all that pretty, but—”
“Who’s askin’ your opinion?” Zerek glanced around as if looking for the idiot who’d solicited it. “Sure as hell not me. And if she’s so lacking in looks, why the hell are you makin’ this fine proposition of yours?”
Luke winced. That definitely hadn’t been the right thing to say. “She’s not lacking in looks. That’s just it.” He clamped down hard on his back teeth. After a moment, he said, “Not after you’re around her for about two seconds. Then she’s beautiful. I’ve never met anyone else quite like her.”
Zerek tipped back on his boot heels, his expression going from enraged to slightly mollified. Through the gloom, he studied Luke, his brow pleated in a thoughtful frown. “I’ll be damned,” he finally muttered. “You really are smitten, aren’t you?”
Luke gave a humorless laugh. “Would I be here if I weren’t? Your daughter is lovely, Milo. And she’d make any man a delightful companion. I mean no offense by making this offer. Truly. I’ve never felt strongly enough about any other young woman to go talk to her father, you can bet your ass on that.”
Milo hauled in a deep breath, then rubbed his nose. With a chuckle, he said, “My daughter isn’t for sale, Mr. Taggart. No how, no way. I know it might be hard for you to conceive, but there are some things your money can’t buy. My little girl is one of them.”
No longer exhibiting anger, Zerek turned and walked away. After taking only a few steps, though, he drew to a stop and glanced back. “If it’s any consolation, I felt poleaxed the first time I saw my Mary Margaret, too.” He made a quick sign of the cross. “God rest her, but she was so pretty, I near went blind just looking at her.” A reminiscent smile spread across his craggy features. He shook his head. “But, son, women like that—they’re for marryin’, not for taking as mistresses.”
Luke folded his arms. “I’m not the marrying kind, Mr. Zerek.”
“Well, then, you’re not my Cassie’s kind.” He flashed another kindly smile. “And just for the record, no man’s the marryin’ kind until he runs across the right woman. Let me give you a little advice. If you really want my daughter, pay court to her. After getting to know her a little better, you might think marriage sounds a hair more appealing.”
Somehow, Luke doubted that. “You’re making a mistake,” he said softly. “Cassandra will never get another chance like this. In a y
ear, maybe two, you could all relocate to another town. No one would ever know about her past, and you’d have money beyond your wildest imaginings. Enough to live well for the rest of your lives. You think about that.”
“No need. There are some things more important than money. If you offered her a million dollars, Mr. Taggart, it wouldn’t be enough.”
“That’s absurd.”
Milo lifted a shoulder. “Maybe so, but that’s the way it is. If I see you around my daughter, Mr. Taggart, you’d best be packin’ flowers in one hand and a passel of respect in the other. You understand me? It’s a wedding ring or nothin’ with that girl.”
That said, Milo Zerek ambled away into the darkness. Long after he disappeared, Luke could hear the muted clank and clatter of his light and lunch pail.
For a long while, he stood in the moon-swathed shadows, his gaze fixed on nothing. Courtship? He’d never danced attendance on a woman in his life, and he had no intention of starting now. As for Cassandra Zerek’s becoming a nun? That would happen over Luke’s dead body. He wanted that girl. Wanted her in a way he couldn’t define—a deep, insatiable yearning that made him feel almost desperate. Christ. He was so upset his hands were shaking.
Taking a deep breath, Luke chalked off his discussion with Milo as a bad move. But there was always more than one way to skin a cat. A man only had to find it. He would have Cassandra Zerek in his bed. It was a given.
What Luke Taggart wanted, Luke Taggart got.
THREE
Several nights later, Cassandra was cooking the evening meal and listening to her eight-year-old brother, Khristos, recite his sums when Ambrose threw open the front door of the one-room cabin. As he bent to set his lunch pail and headlamp under the coat pegs next to the door, he waved a paper at her, his handsome face split in a broad grin, his blue eyes dancing.