Repercussions and guilt didn't make Ellie stop wanting Jesse and she proved it to him time and again during the night. She longed to keep him away from danger; to slow the time when Elizabeth would return. She could use the trip to Carson City as an excuse to stay out of Peavine, if only for an extra day or two. She might tell Jesse it was to find the reasons behind Clayton Scott's behavior, but deep in her heart she knew differently. She desperately wanted one more day -- maybe two-- with Jesse Cole.
Even so, Ellie woke alone the next morning. Apparently, the pleasures they had shared in each other's arms could amount to nothing more than just that. She told herself it didn't matter, but the funny thing was, she couldn't convince her heart to quit breaking nor the tears to quit flowing.
Later, Ellie laid on the bed fully dressed with a wet towel over her eyes, hoping the cool water would lessen the redness before Jesse came. He had sent a message with Rainee that he'd be by later to get her for brunch. Actually, Ellie needed the time to decide how best to approach him. ‘The morning after’ had never been a concern for her, mainly because there hadn't been any men in her life whom she allowed that close or for that long.
She felt it would have been easier if he hadn't left her room. Then, she could have showed him how she felt, because if she were truthful, she wanted nothing more than to haul Jesse's hide back into bed. She might tell herself it was one way to keep him safe, but she just plain loved making love to him! She sighed, turning the rag to a cooler side.
Keeping Jesse naked and in bed with her for the next two weeks was impractical to an extreme. Besides, would that be something Jesse wanted? Had he left in the night because he regretted what had happened? She didn't regret a moment of their pleasure, and only hoped he felt the same. That would at least make the next two weeks interesting, regardless of what Clayton Scott intended.
A knock at the door ended Ellie's deliberations. Butterflies jiggled around in her stomach, and she held her breath as she crossed the room to open the door.
"Good morning, El." Jesse gave her a heart stopping smile and held out his hand.
Ellie's heart turned over at his smile, and come what may, she knew at least for now things would be alright. She reached out and took the single, black-eyed Susan he clutched. Turning towards the mirror, she tucked the flower into the tie of her braid where it lay over her shoulder. That way she could see it all day.
"There weren’t many flowers." Jesse sounded nervous, and in the mirror’s reflection, Ellie could see him turning his hat round and round in his hands.
"You didn't take some lady's last flower out of her garden, did you?"
"Of course not." He went from nervous to affronted. After a pause, he grinned and added, "Well, actually the only other one had lost half its petals."
"Jesse, it was her last one--"
"I offered the lady on the porch money, but she wouldn't take it once I told her what I wanted to do with the flower."
Ellie tilted her head to study him, noting the tense set of his shoulders. "And that would be?"
"I wanted it for the loveliest woman in all Nevada. I figured since she already had my heart, she needed a flower to keep it company."
"Oh, Jesse." Ellie's lips trembled and she just knew she was going to cry. Jesse circled her with his strong arms, and for this brief moment in time, Ellie felt loved and wanted and perfectly at peace. She only wished it could last, and that was the reason she cried.
Jesse awkwardly patted her back, fumbling with his hat and not quite knowing what to do. "Sh, sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you cry." He hadn't expected her to be sentimental; she had rarely been in all the time he had known her. However, he had to admit he had woken up this morning with a different frame of mind, so he supposed she could, too.
Jesse had slept like the dead after he left Ellie last night, but woke up discontent. The reason had stared him in the face from the pillow next to his head. It was empty. He longed to wake up beside Ellie, holding her tight in the winter to keep warm and snuggling next to her cool, satin skin in the summer. He'd probably make a fool of himself for wanting her all the time, but she aroused the demons in him.
Yet now, as he held her, he kept those feelings bottled up inside. He searched his mind for some phrase from all the books his mother had given him, but the classic poets' words somehow seemed shallow and pretentious when compared to the beauty standing before him.
Her face glowed; her brown eyes sparkled with gold through tears left unshed. In those eyes, he saw the love for which he had been waiting a lifetime. He didn’t have to struggle to see past her spoiled exterior. She no longer resembled the pouting young woman who had returned from her high-brow eastern school full of herself.
No, whatever airs she had brought back to Peavine were gone now, replaced with an open-hearted goodness and smiling face. He started to tell her again that he loved her, but a shadow flickered across her gaze.
It was gone so swiftly he could have imagined it. Then she touched his lips with a gentle finger; her hand caressed his cheek and no words were needed for him to understand that she loved him, even if she couldn't say the words. For the moment, he contented himself with her touch, the look of adoration in her eyes, and the fierce need which once again tightened his muscles and started his heart pounding.
* * *
Jesse knew he shouldn't be gone from Peavine more than a day or two, but he wouldn't deny Ellie anything. Even so, he seriously doubted any Carson City bank or even the Nevada State Court House would be able to give them the answers to the questions she felt needed asked.
He sighed as he bought their train tickets. He was smitten for sure. Why else would he have agreed to go traipsing all over Nevada in search of evidence that he owned the Nightingale mine. He knew it belonged to him, or it would when he paid off the loan. Ellie, on the other hand, seemed to need proof that Scott wasn't trying to swindle him and take over.
"Train should be on time," he said to Ellie as he walked across the platform to where she paced.
"Lucky said the train didn't run here," she glanced up and down the tracks, eyes bright with curiosity. She suddenly gabbed his shirt front, her voice panicky. "Jesse, what if we can't find the answers? What if there's an accident?"
A sense of déjà vu swept through Jesse, leaving him icy cold even in the early morning sunshine. Why did he have the feeling they were acting out parts in a play where the ending was already written and the outcome determined?
His stomach clinched as the train whistle echoed in the distance, almost as a warning.
Ellie turned away from him, nervously twisting the thin straps of her handbag. Now that she'd blurted out her worries, she avoided his gaze, staring instead down the tracks as though willing the train to appear.
He studied her from beneath the brim of his hat, watching the sway of her hips as she paced along the platform. Ellie stopped then started, then stopped again. In-between her pacing, she'd dig through her handbag, looking for something, appearing frustrated at not being able to find it.
Ellie, not Elizabeth. It wasn't just her name that was different. Just about everything from the way she walked and talked to the incredible way her eager gaze racked him while he undressed her last night. That, especially, fell beyond his understanding. Nowhere in Jesse's somewhat limited experience with women could he explain Ellie's sudden and erotic desire for him. Even though he definitely wouldn’t complain about that, it was almost as though she was an entirely different woman than the one he'd always known.
But that was ridiculous. People didn't become other people overnight. The changes in Elizabeth; even her desire to use a nickname, had come about from her associations back east. That was all.
Jesse stepped back, pulling Ellie with him as the train ground to a stop, great puffs of steam escaping from beneath its wheels. Whatever worries had plagued her disappeared as she eagerly climbed aboard the passenger car.
"Oh, my God, this is incredible," she exclaimed as she walked down the narrow aisle, touching each bench back, running her hands over the polished wood and chrome of the headers.
She plopped down on a bench by a window, eyes wide. She patted the bench beside her and he sat, scooping off his hat and crossing one ankle over the other knee. "You'll never make me believe you haven't ridden a train, so why are you so excited?" Jesse cocked a brow at her in question.
"But I--" she broke off as she so often did and Jesse shook his head. Then she turned toward him, sliding her arm behind his shoulders. She smiled impishly and fiddled with his hair. Goose bumps rose along his skin at her touch. She glanced around to see if anyone watched, but no other passengers had entered this particular car as of yet. Before he could guess her intention, she leaned forward and kissed his ear.
"I meant," she whispered, "I've never ridden this particular train, and I've never done it with you." Her tongue tickled his ear and Jesse jerked his hat from his knee to his lap.
Damn! What she said caused images of their lovemaking to careen through his brain. However, her breathy whisper in his ear gave a whole new meaning to the jerky movements of the train as it drew down the tracks.
"How long will it take to get to Carson?" Her fingers were in his hair again, and although she didn't whisper now, she remained close enough that her breast still brushed his arm.
"Too damn long." Jesse squirmed on the hard wooden bench, everything about her causing him extreme discomfort in the lower regions of his anatomy.
"Will we stay over, or do our business and head back home?"
"Sweetheart, the business I'm thinking about is going to take too long to get done in one night." He knew she understood when her eyes opened in surprise and her sweet mouth formed a small oh, but she didn't looked shocked in the least. Instead, she dazzled him with a smile and settled snugly against his side.
"I'm glad," was all she had to say as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Jesse was certainly glad that the only other passengers walking past to find seats were men, and each eyed him and winked in appreciation of the beauty he had resting against him. Jesse could certainly be glad he didn’t have to contend with any matronly outrage.
With a sigh, he contented himself to sit quietly for awhile, breathing in her scent and feeling the weight of her against him. In his constant search for that big strike; the one that would make him and all the men who worked for him rich beyond their wildest dreams, he had neglected many things in his life.
Looking back, he wished he had more schooling, instead of always working alongside his father. He couldn't speak in the eloquent words of Clayton Scott, even though his mother had made sure he learned the basics of reading, writing, and manners. Ellie didn't seem to mind so much now, but would it make a difference later in their married life?
And speaking of -- he wiggled his shoulder to get her attention. "Hey, don't go to sleep. We need to talk about getting married."
Ellie jerked upright and scooted away from him. She began shaking her head even before she spoke. "No! No, we don't, not now. We need to find out about your mine." She spoke in a panic and began fidgeting with her purse strings again.
Jesse read the only thing he could into her statement. "You mean you're still not going to marry me until I find the gold? After last night, I think it's a little late to back out." His mother had taught him responsibility and he wanted to tell her there was no alternative. At the same time, he wanted her only if she came to him of her own free will, because she loved him. Last night, he had thought she did.
She stared out the window for some time; her shoulders drooped. A large sigh escaped. When she turned to face him again, her eyes sparkled with tears. She placed a gentle hand to his cheek. "Oh, Jesse, I do want to marry you. You can't imagine how much. But now's not the time to talk about it." The train lurched to the side at that moment, and a crooked smile touched her lips. "Besides, a rattling train isn't exactly the most romantic place to propose."
"I've already proposed -- dozens of times. I just haven't gotten you to say yes." What was it about her that kept him coming back for more, even when she left for years to study back east; even when she hung around unsavory characters like Scott?
She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Don't pout, Jesse. You must have patience. Now, tell me about this train we're on. After all, it wasn't built when last I was here."
He shook his head, deciding she was right and there would be better opportunities to press his advantage. But he made himself a promise that she would be his wife, with or without the damn gold.
"They say when this is finished, it will be the most crooked railroad in the world because its whole course is one big curve. I'm not sure where the construction is at this point, but trains began running to Carson just last October. It's expected the whole route will cost about three million."
"Good lord, that's a lot of money for -- how much road?"
"The entire railroad will connect Reno, Truckee, Meadows and Steamboat, then Washoe and Eagle Valleys down to Carson City; a total of fifty-two miles. A very necessary investment."
Ellie gave him a look of wonder. "Three million dollars’ worth?"
"Considering the worth of the Comstock ores transported to the quartz mills, not to mention the necessary timber and cut lumber needed by the mines to continue production, and I'd say it was worth it. Besides, this train travels at twenty miles per hour, which is twice as fast as the stage."
Ellie giggled at him and Jesse wondered why she thought he was so funny.
"Wow, a whole twenty miles an hour."
He frowned. "You don't think I'm serious about marriage, and now you laugh when I say this steam engine is the fastest thing around.” Jesse shut his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, determined not to say another word until they got to Carson City.
Ellie giggled harder.
* * *
Ellie rubbed the small of her back as she stepped onto the wood platform of the Carson City train station, stretching sore muscles. She knew she hadn't been fair to Jesse on the train, in both teasing him unmercifully about what they had done the night before, and about the speed of transportation. Sometimes she wished she could tell him about the future; not just speeding cars and traveling to the moon in rockets faster than he could conceive, but all the wonders of the modern world.
Jesse threw their bags into the back of a buckboard and motioned for her to climb aboard with the old man handling the reins. She might miss pizza and cold beer, but at the moment a soft cushy car seat was much preferable to another ride on a wooden bench.
"Is it too far to walk?" She questioned, refraining from rubbing her sore fanny.
Jesse shrugged, digging a coin out of his vest pocket for the driver and instructing him to drop their bags at the Warm Springs Hotel.
"I suppose you want to get right to work, looking for clues to this intrigue?" He questioned as he took her arm and turned towards town.
Frankly, the instant his hand touched her bare elbow, Ellie's thoughts immediately raced ahead to the night, barreling right past all the questions in her mind about the bank records and Clayton Scott and Jesse's mine. Never had she let a man interfere with her life to this extent; and would wonders never cease, she didn't even mind.
"Well, if we're walking past the bank, wouldn't it make sense to scope it out?" She made herself concentrate on matters at hand, instead of the delicious warmth of his hand on her arm.
"Scope it out?" Jesse echoed her words as he held the door to the bank open for her.
Ellie patted his cheek in an affectionate manner and breezed past him without explaining herself. As she hoped, he didn't ask what she meant.
Cyrus Connors, according to the name plate, sat behind a huge desk to the right of the teller's cage, and Ellie decided to start with him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Connors, my name is Elizabeth Calhoun, from Peavine, and I would like to ask you some questions about my father's bank."
The rotund man immediately stood and Ellie was gratified by the male chivalry of this century -- until he spoke. Instead of addressing her, he barely acknowledged her introduction with a slight nod of the head, instead turning his attention to Jesse.
"Sir?" He questioned.
"Jesse Cole, owner of the Nightingale Mine at Peavine Summit." The two men shook hands, leaving Ellie beginning to steam like the springs at Steamboat.
Mr. Connors came around his desk and pulled up another chair in front. "Please, have a seat, Miss Calhoun." Again, he extended her a courtesy, but spoke only to Jesse.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Cole?"
"Actually, it is Miss Calhoun who has the questions about the Calhoun Bank & Trust of Peavine, which as she said was--"
"--owned by my father." Ellie interrupted.
Connors gave her an annoyed glance. "Perhaps your questions could best be answered by your father, then." The condescending sound of his nasal voice quickly grated on Ellie's nerves. She clasped her hands tightly together.
"Perhaps if my father were still alive, I wouldn't find it necessary to ask you questions, sir, since apparently you don't have a clue as to what's happening." She could feel Jesse's hand on her arm. She hoped it was in support of her because she didn’t like to think he’d act like a male chauvinist.
"Really, Miss, I am sorry, but what would I have to do with your father's bank?" His eyes suddenly widened and he stuttered, "I hope you're not implying I had something to do with his death?"
"Honestly, why do men always think of themselves?" Ellie muttered under her breath as she sat back in her chair exasperated. Jesse chuckled beside her. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and Ellie took a fortifying breath.
"Your sign says Carson City National Bank, does it not?" At the man's nod, she continued. "My father owned a bank. When he died, wouldn't someone from this national bank have been contacted to do an audit?”
"Why?" The man questioned, sounding just like Lucky.
Ellie threw her hands up in exasperation. “You mean that any records of my father’s transactions would only be at that bank? No one else has copies?” The man nodded. She stood to leave and Jesse rose with her.
Cyrus Connors scooted around his desk, reaching for Jesse's hand in a greedy grasp. Ellie supposed he thought maybe Jesse would bring his gold to this bank.
"I do apologize for any misinformation you may have gotten from this...female," the man sputtered ingratiating, "but you must know that all banks are solely owned and operated, so I couldn't possibly have anything to do with her father's bank, or his death," he added hastily.
His back was turned to her, and he spoke in a low voice, but it was still plenty loud for Ellie to hear. "If I were you, I'd marry the little gal and get her with child so she can't be out and about and meddling in men's business." He nodded his head in emphasis.
Ellie swung her handbag around to clobber the idiot, and would have succeeded if Jesse hadn’t glanced over the man’s shoulder and intercepted her projectile. He tucked her purse under her arm and latched on to her hand, tugging her away from the banker and out the door before she could control her anger enough to get a word out.
"That imbecile." The word escaped and even though Ellie could see Zeke cringing in her mind's eye, she was mad.
"Whoa, baby, calm down," Jesse used his claim on her to pull her close, transferring his hold to circling her waist.
Ellie jerked to a stop on the boardwalk and swung around to face him. “You're not taking his side, are you?"
"Do I look like a fool?" Apparently Jesse knew how to be politically correct.
Ellie pursed her lips to look at him, knowing no way in hell Jesse Cole would ever be anyone's fool. Well, except maybe Elizabeth's, if they didn't get him out of this mess.
She blew out an irritated breath. "Why did he talk as though I didn't exist and didn't know anything?"
Jesse gave her a look Ellie had come to know meant he was thinking too much about what she said. That could lead to trouble if she didn't learn to curb her tongue. "One of these days,” he said, shaking his head, “I'm going to take a trip back east; to Boston and New York and all those places you've been. The way you talk sometimes, it's as though you lived on a different planet."
Same planet, different century, Ellie thought wryly, before generating an excuse, as always, for her actions. "That's still no excuse for boorish behavior."
Jesse shrugged, cupping her elbow and setting them in motion again. "I can’t keep apologizing for all the stupidity of other men, Ellie. You’ll just have to believe I try my best not to be like them.”
Ellie gave him a smile. “I know you’re not, and believe me, I appreciate it more than you can know.”
Their walk had gotten them to the courthouse, but a few questions and a quick examination of the assayer's records showed no liens against the Nightingale Mine at Peavine Summit. The Registrar of Deeds did say sometimes private deals with anonymous backers were made to raise money for the mining ventures on the Comstock, but they certainly didn’t keep those records. That information made Clayton's claim appear all the more valid.
"Do we have time to go to the Mint yet today?" Ellie asked, squinting into the bright sunlight to the sandstone building across the street.
"You are certainly full of energy, aren't you?"
Jesse sounded as though he would rather be sitting in a bar drinking a cold beer, and Ellie certainly couldn't fault him for that. But given the uncooperative nature of the men she was encountering, she knew she'd find no answers at all without Jesse at her side. That thought grated on her liberated nature.
"Look, I'm doing this for you, you know. I realize that you shouldn't be away from the mine for long, so the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to Peavine."
Jesse looked surprised that she would think of him. Men, she thought. If she only had more time, she'd teach him a thing or two about liberated women, supportive males, and the world of equality.
As it was, she contented herself to exploring the Carson City Mint with him. They were told that the nearby prison had quarried the sandstone to build the building, and it had only been operational since February. The first coin struck was a Seated Liberty dollar, bearing the CC mint mark. Jesse traded some of his change for one and gave it to Ellie as a keepsake.
They had taken the entire tour and listened to a weasel-looking man talk in a monotone for over half an hour before Ellie had to conclude that as much as she hoped otherwise, the mint would not provide them with any information. She had the feeling she was confusing it with a federal reserve bank. Even so, when they were introduced to Abe Curry, the superintendent, Ellie felt compelled to ask him about bank records in Peavine.
"Ma'am, we mint coins, like double eagles, half eagles, and that seated Liberty dollar you're fiddling with. We don't keep records on what banks do. That's their business." With a sharp nod of his head, he excused himself, professing to be needed in the coiner's department.
"Damn," Ellie swore, softly, hands on hips outside the Mint's doors.
"When did you start swearing, El?" Jesse asked, his voice full of humor. "I think I'd better start keeping Lucky and Zeke up at the mine more."
Ellie shrugged, not wanting to debate her language, background, or the lack of information they had gathered in their fruitless search for evidence against Clayton.
"What now?" Jesse took off his hat as he spoke, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Late afternoon sun glinted off his hair, and Ellie reached up to touch the wayward curl that always hung across his forehead.
She knew what she wanted. A cold glass of wine, a cool bath, and Jesse Cole, not necessarily in that order.
He smiled at her and Ellie's heart melted. Bittersweet country songs floated through her mind, one phrase coming unbidden to her lips. "’I'll do anything you want me to, just to see you smile.’"
That widened the grin on Jesse's lips. "Anything?"