“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smirked. “Now, put the knife on the table, Kathryn. It’s poor manners to steal the silver.”

  She did as she was told.

  Pushing his chair back, Morgan stood. When he came to her and drew her chair out, she felt a shiver of apprehension. Desperate, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Someday, all the valuable ore will be gouged, blasted, and hauled out of the mountain. Then what happens to Calvada?” She could tell him his mansion would stand as an empty monument to his arrogance and pride—worthless, abandoned, rotting away, or razed to build other structures elsewhere. What good would all his machinations do him then?

  He stood close. “I don’t care what happens to Calvada. I’ll have sold for top dollar long before the ore plays out.” He nodded his head, a command for her to precede him out of the room. He put his hand at the small of her back as they entered the hallway. When they neared the staircase, she tensed, ready to run for the door, but he took her arm firmly and spun her toward the stairs.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she cried out, trying to yank free.

  “I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for months. After tonight, you’ll know you’re mine.” He pulled her up the first few steps.

  Kathryn fought in earnest then. She managed to twist out of his arms. When he tried to grasp her around the waist and lift her, she raked her fingernails across his face and almost gained her freedom. He called her a foul name, his fingers digging into her hair as he raised his hand to strike her.

  The stairway rolled under her feet and she cried out.

  Morgan, hand still raised, looked up in alarm as the chandelier rattled violently. His fingers loosened and Kathryn pulled free, falling down three steps to her knees. The servant shouted, ran past her, and threw open the front door. Kathryn scraped to her feet, grabbed up her skirt, and fled right behind him.

  As she raced down the front steps, she almost fell again. Grasping the rail, she tried to regain her balance, but the very ground was shaking. What was happening? Had there been an explosion at the Madera?

  “Earthquake!” someone screamed in the street. A carriage had been passing by, the horse now rearing in harness.

  “Kathryn!” Morgan roared, his face livid, as he came after her. She pushed through the gate. The terrified horse whinnied shrilly and reared again. Kathryn darted around it. Its hooves came down hard, blocking Morgan from pursuit.

  The tremor didn’t last long, but the horse sidestepped and almost tipped the carriage into the ornate iron fence along Morgan’s front yard. Morgan cursed loudly. “Get that horse under control!”

  Kathryn made it to the corner. Gasping for breath, she slowed, a hand against her stomach. Glancing back, she saw Morgan holding the horse’s harness, his face rigid, his eyes fixed on her, black with fury.

  Heart pounding, Kathryn kept walking at a fast pace. When she reached Paris Avenue, she gave in to the fear she’d battened down for the last two hours, lifted the hem of her skirt, and ran.

  Matthias stood outside in the middle of the street. The earthquake had rattled buildings, shattering a few windows, only one poorly constructed building down the street toppling. He saw Kathryn racing down the boardwalk. Where was she coming from? She looked terrified. Opening her door, she rushed in and closed it quickly.

  He crossed over and knocked on her door, concerned. She didn’t answer. She didn’t even peer through the curtain. “Kathryn! Are you all right in there? Any damage done?”

  “Everything is fine. Thank you.” She didn’t sound fine. She sounded breathless and scared.

  “It was an earthquake. It’s over. There might be some tremors, but less severe.” He paused. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m grand. Just grand.” There was a hitch in her voice.

  He tried to lighten the moment. Leaning against the door, he spoke more softly. “What do you say to a June wedding?”

  “Go away!”

  Matthias straightened. He’d never heard that shrill tone out of her before. Bandit scratched at the door. “Better let the dog in.”

  “Which dog do you mean?”

  “The one that barks.”

  “Every man in this town is barking mad!” The door opened just enough to allow Bandit to slip inside, then closed firmly. The bolt slammed into place.

  Kathryn didn’t come out the front door of her house for three days, though her lantern burned through every night. She opened the door each morning to let Bandit out. He spent the day marking posts, sniffing for rats, and howling at the screeching fiddles in the fandango hall. When Kathryn opened the door each evening, he slipped in and didn’t come out again until the next day.

  Axel told Matthias that Morgan Sanders had been at her door the night before. “I heard Bandit making a racket and went down to see what was going on.” Sanders had left.

  Worried now, Matthias asked Ronya if she’d seen her.

  “Not since Wednesday morning when she had breakfast. Neither has Amos. He said he knocked, and she said she’d let him know when she was ready to talk about the mine. I sent Ina Bea over to check on her. We’ve been feeding Bandit. I don’t know what she’s been eating. Maybe she’s working on another issue of the Voice.”

  Last time Matthias had seen Kathryn, she’d been running along the boardwalk as though the devil was after her. He assumed she had been shaken by the earthquake. Now, he wondered what else might have happened that day. Unable to sleep, Matthias decided if Kathryn didn’t show up at church, he’d be knocking on her door again, and if she didn’t open it, he’d kick it down.

  Matthias dressed early and in his finest. The Closed sign hung in her window. It had been there since Wednesday afternoon. It was another hour and a half before church started. Unable to wait, he put on his hat, crossed the street, and rapped on the door. “Kathryn!” No answer. When he tried the door, it opened. His heart dropped like a barometer warning of a storm when he found the house empty.

  Closing the door, he strode up the hill, praying she was at the church. He felt a surge of relief and then a quickening pulse when he saw her sitting inside the sanctuary. Thank You, Jesus. She wasn’t in her usual place, but near the back, on the right side next to one of the tall windows. Right where he’d sat for the last few services. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed. Was she praying or thinking? As he stood looking at her, a beam of sunlight came through the window, and shone on her. Matthias felt a punch of emotion. If he hadn’t found her sitting in the church, he would have gone searching for her.

  Letting his breath out slowly, he moved into the pew and sat next to her. Kathryn’s body gave a slight flinch. She didn’t look up, but her eyes opened. “You’re early this morning, Mr. Beck.”

  “Yes, I am, Miss Walsh. I hope I’m not interrupting your prayer.”

  “I’ve been here a while.”

  Reverend Thacker appeared at the end of the pew. “Good morning, Mr. Beck. You’re both early this morning.” Matthias greeted him. Sally came down the aisle carrying a vase filled with bright-yellow daffodils. She paused and greeted them, faint speculation in her expression as she walked on. She set the flower arrangement on the altar. Reverend Thacker shuffled through notes at the pulpit, then spoke to her in a low voice, and they went out through the side door to his chamber.

  Kathryn sat silent. However long it took for her to speak, Matthias would wait. Minutes passed and he found himself praying that whatever troubled her so deeply, God would give her clear direction. She released a long sigh and looked up at him, her green eyes clear as a mountain meadow after a rain. “I’m glad you’re here, Matthias.”

  Was she beginning to realize they belonged together? Doubtful. But she trusted him. That was a big step in the right direction. “What have you been up to for the last three days? Your friends have been worried about you. I’ve been worried about you.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. I was . . .” She shrugged. “I’ve been writing. Thinking. Making decisions.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “Uh-oh.”

  She laughed softly. “Yes. Well. I know what to do with the mine.” She spoke with confidence.

  “Sell?”

  “No.” She looked at him again, an impish smile taunting him. “Just an idea I have. An experiment, if you will.”

  He felt immediate misgivings. “Do you care to elaborate?”

  “Not yet. Can I meet with you and discuss renting the town hall?”

  She was full of surprises. He hoped that wasn’t the only reason she had sat where he normally did. “Anytime, your ladyship. My office or yours?”

  “Yours. Does tomorrow morning, ten o’clock, fit your schedule?”

  So formal. So businesslike. No matter what was on his schedule, he’d make time for her. “Yes.”

  Others were coming into the sanctuary. Kathryn seemed less at ease. She looked over her shoulder and then smiled a warm greeting. Glancing back, Matthias saw Fiona Hawthorne, Monique Beaulieu, and three others slip into the last pew on the left, closest to the door. Matthias felt Kathryn tense. She turned away, eyes straight forward.

  Morgan Sanders came down the aisle. Matthias knew he was looking for Kathryn when the man glanced at the empty pew across from his usual seat, then looked around. His expression darkened when he saw where she was sitting. Kathryn didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Matthias felt her body trembling. He met Sanders’s eyes, a hot surge of bloodlust inside him. Rather than step into the pew and sit, Sanders strode back up the aisle, ordered someone to get out of his way, and left the church. Matthias heard Kathryn’s soft exhalation. She lowered her head, but not before Matthias saw how all the color had drained from her face.

  What had Sanders done to her? He started to rise, intending to go after Sanders and find out, when Kathryn put her hand on his arm. Controlling his anger, he took her hand and found it cold and shaking. “Does he warrant a bullet?” His voice came out frigid and gruff. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand.

  “No. He’s less a fool than I’ve been.” She cast him a smile. “Though I may buy a gun.”

  Matthias knew she meant it to lighten the tension, but his heart hammered. “Do you want to move back into the hotel? I guarantee your safety.”

  Her mood lightened. “Oh, no. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  Matthias gave her a wounded look. “I thought you were beginning to trust me, your ladyship.”

  Kathryn regarded him gravely. “I trust you more than any man in this town, Matthias.” She held his gaze for a few seconds, then slipped her hand from his and looked at Reverend Thacker, who was welcoming everyone to the service.

  21

  MATTHIAS WAS STANDING ON THE BOARDWALK in front of his hotel, talking to Henry, when Kathryn came outside, stunning in Boston finery. Half a dozen men stood like poleaxed bulls staring at her, including him. Was her attire a sign of war or a softening of her heart? The dog came with her. Matthias counted himself lucky he had made friends with the animal.

  Kathryn came up the steps and greeted both him and Henry. Matthias nodded to Bandit. “I see you’ve brought your bodyguard with you.”

  “Go on now.” She waved the dog away, then asked Matthias if he was ready to talk business. He escorted her into the hotel. Her companion stuck to her like a burr. “Shoo, Bandit.” She frowned at him, but the animal remained at her side. Bandit had been left in the house when Kathryn was picked up by Morgan Sanders’s driver. A pity the dog hadn’t followed. Morgan wouldn’t have let him, but that animal would have started a ruckus if he sensed any threat to his mistress.

  Kathryn tried again. “Go outside, Bandit.” The dog flopped down, put his head on his paws, and looked up at her. Matthias laughed.

  Kathryn gave him a pained look. “I’m so sorry. He doesn’t mind very well.”

  “He knows where he wants to be.” She took the seat he offered, a table between them with coffee service just delivered. Pouring, he asked if she wanted cream or sugar. She declined both. He handed the cup and saucer to her, then poured black for himself as well. Her rigid posture told him she was nervous. “You mentioned wanting to use the town hall.”

  “Yes. For a meeting.”

  He raised his brows, waiting for her to elaborate. She sipped her coffee and ignored the silent probing. Setting the cup back in the saucer, she met his gaze. “As soon as I know I’ve secured the hall, I’ll put an announcement in the Voice.”

  Maybe she didn’t trust him as much as he thought she did. Curiosity roused, he tried again. “You’re not going to give me a hint?”

  She considered before answering. “It’s about the mine.”

  “I assumed that much.” He could see her debating whether to tell him anything more.

  “I want to present a new business venture to the out-of-work miners from the Jackrabbit Mine.” She set her cup and saucer on the table. “The town hall might not be big enough. The whole town will probably want to come just to see me make a fool of myself. Perhaps I should ask Carl Rudger if I could hold the meeting at his lumberyard.”

  Carl Rudger was a bachelor and would be only too happy to do anything to please Kathryn, which she undoubtedly knew. “You could, but he’d have to shut down his business to accommodate you. Unless you had a nighttime meeting, which wouldn’t be wise.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” She frowned. “I don’t want to cost him money. Should I go before the town council and plead my case?”

  “You’re not on trial.” What irony that Kathryn thought she’d have to plead to use the town hall she had inspired. The lady didn’t expect any favors. Even so, the council would want to charge a rental fee. And it would be too much for her to afford.

  “You can have your meeting at the hall, Kate. Gratis. If any questions are raised, tell them to come to me.”

  Kathryn laughed softly. “Oh, I’m certain there will be questions.” She shrugged. “And probably a lot of laughter as well.”

  Laughter? He’d like to spare her public ridicule. “What’s your idea, Kathryn?”

  She gave him an impish smile. “Come to the meeting and you’ll hear all about it.”

  Thanking him, she rose. He’d never seen her look so relaxed and hopeful. “I considered discussing it with you, Matthias, but I thought you might try to talk me out of it.”

  That gave him pause. “Should I?” They walked down the hall side by side.

  “It’s best you hear what I hope to do with the mine at the same time everyone else does.”

  Matthias planned to get there early, knowing there would be a crowd.

  Of course, both Amos and Scribe tried to talk her out of her plans for the mine. They started with gentle advice, as though talking to a child, but soon fell into heated argument. Amos said it was folly. Scribe said worse. They both thought she was inviting disaster.

  “You might as well sell to Sanders!” Scribe growled.

  The two took turns telling her that she was just a woman who knew nothing about mining or any business, for that matter, both apparently forgetting she ran the Voice. Amos said she should leave him to organize and do the hiring. Kathryn remained silent and let them yammer, knowing she would face all these same arguments and insults at the meeting. She might as well be prepared for the assault.

  Scribe finally noticed her silence. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “Yes.” She stood. “Thank you both for your strong opinions. The fact remains: the mine belongs to me and I can do with it whatever I see fit.” Both Amos and Scribe opened their mouths once again, but she raised her hand. “I’ve listened to your opinions for the last hour. Now, give me the courtesy of allowing me to finish one sentence without interruption.” Perhaps some of her anger had seeped through, for they stood silent.

  “I love you like a younger brother, Scribe, and I have great respect for you, Amos. But I have made my decision.” Her plan did sound a bit mad the way they presented it, but she believed it could do great good and be highly successful. They just had no faith in her. Or in the men, for that matter.

  “You can stand beside me or you can walk away. I will respect whatever decision you make.” She told them when and where the meeting would take place, walked to the door, and opened it. “Good day, gentlemen.”

  They walked out the door as though a judge had just given them a twenty-year sentence to hard time in a desert jail.

  The next issue of the Voice had several well-written articles, including COBBLER HAS SHOE IN FOR CITY POST and her popular column. Matthias scanned Bachelor Arts. This week’s focus was on the proper manners for courting a lady. But it was the quarter-page announcement that caught Matthias’s full attention: . . . a meeting at town hall Thursday next at 2 p.m. regarding a new and unusual opportunity for men experienced in mine operations . . . She might as well have waved a red blanket in front of the town bull, Morgan Sanders.

  Men started shooting questions at Matthias. “What does she mean by unusual?”

  Matthias wished he knew. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t tell me.”

  “You’re gonna marry that gal, ain’t ya? Working your tail off to win her, ain’t ya? Ya oughta know sumthin’ about what she’s thinkin’.”

  Matthias gave a bleak laugh. “I’ve yet to figure out the workings of that female mind.”

  Wiley Baer bellied up to the bar. “He ain’t interested in her mind, idjit.” He winked at Matthias. “She’s the best-lookin’ woman this side of the Rockies.”

  “With the tongue of a wasp!” someone shouted from the back.

  “And sticking her nose into everyone’s business,” Herr grumbled.

  “Because Stu Bickerson doesn’t have the guts to print the truth!” a new voice called from the back. Scribe.

  “What does she want miners for, anyway?”