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  They spoke of England, and he told her of Spain, and of France, where he had gone to school. At that point, Adrien joined the conversation.

  It was working! Adrien frequently looked at her oddly, and she sometimes caught him glancing at Hank with almost a smoldering look. And Hank Chavez did not lose interest in her. He was solicitous, helping her in and out of the coach at rest stops, bringing her meals. It was just what she had planned.

  The coach pulled into Trinidad in the early evening of the eighth day. They had already traveled nearly two hundred miles and there were still another seventy-five to go.

  Adrien and Jeannette elected to stay at the stage depot. They were conserving money in any way they could. Adrien had spent so much on his mining supplies. Samantha offered to buy them rooms for the night, but they refused, too proud for that. Samantha shook her head. She had known they would refuse. There had been a strain between her and Jeannette ever since the three of them had talked about money. Jeannette was easily offended by the subject, and had become rigid about paying her way. Samantha was exasperated. Didn’t Adrien realize that, once he was married to her, he would be wealthy? Didn’t his sister’s comfort matter to the man? Jeannette was not used to scrimping—or to sleeping in stage depots.

  Her father’s ranch was huge, thousands of acres in Mexico and thousands more across the border in Texas. He had more land than he could handle, but he did use a lot of it. Besides ranching, he grew crops in the fertile valley east of the West Sierra mountains, and his two copper mines were making him richer every year. If only Adrien knew all that. But she didn’t talk of her wealth, so it was possible that he didn’t know. All the Allstons knew was that her father was a rancher in Mexico. Perhaps they didn’t equate ranching with wealth. Adrien would be surprised when they married and she was finally free to tell him.

  Hank walked Samantha to the hotel. “Will you dine with me this evening?” he asked before leaving her at the top of the stairs. When she nodded, he caught her hand and squeezed it, then let it go. “I will call for you in an hour.” He went to his room.

  Samantha soaked for a long time in a too-small wooden tub, brooding on that intimate gesture. It was something she would have liked Adrien to see, but it had made her uncomfortable because she and Hank had been alone.

  She hoped that Hank was only amusing himself with her. It wouldn’t do at all for him to become serious about her. She liked him, but she loved Adrien, and she was not so fickle that she could change her feelings easily—not even for such a handsome, gallant man. For more than two years she had dreamed of becoming Adrien’s wife, and marry him she would.

  Hank was at her door precisely at six o’clock, as promised. He had bathed and shaved, and he was wearing a suit. The frock coat and trousers were black, but the striped satin waistcoat was in two shades of brown. The ruffled shirt was white. He looked magnificent. Could he have tucked the clothes in his saddle bags? Impossible. He had probably just bought them.

  “You look magnífica,” Hank complimented as he took in her gray merino dress with the fitted jacket trimmed in black.

  Samantha couldn’t help smiling. “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling, the dimples giving a boyish quality to his face. “Shall we go? There is a small restaurant a few doors down the street.”

  “Do you mind if we walk awhile first?” Samantha ventured. “Perhaps see whatever there is to see of this town?”

  “It is dark now,” he pointed out.

  “We can stay in the main street.”

  There was hardly any light, only a quarter-moon and an occasional dim glow from a window. They strolled slowly along the wooden walkway in front of the stores. Samantha just enjoyed the feeling of walking, the chance to stretch her legs.

  Lord, how she hated traveling by stagecoach! Only three more days. Only? She was seriously considering sending a message to Santa Fe, asking her escort to come to Elizabethtown. She could be done with stages. The vaqueros would be on their way, for she had wired her father.

  “What do your close friends call you, Samantha?” Hank spoke softly beside her.

  She thought of Adrien and Jeannette and answered, “Samantha.”

  “You are always called that?”

  She looked at him sideways, amused. “Why? Don’t you like my name?”

  “It does not suit you,” he said frankly. “You are more like a Carmen, a Mercedes, a Lanetta. Samantha is so…Victorian.”

  She shrugged. “My grandmother was Victorian, and she chose my name. Still, you’re right, it is rather formal.”

  Then she grinned. “At home they call me Sam, or even Sammy.”

  Hank chuckled. “Sam! No, you are certainly no Sam. Sammy is not so bad, though I could still think of better names for one so lovely. Do you mind if I call you Sammy?”

  “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “It’s a bit…”

  “Familiar?” He shook his head. “You do not consider me your friend, then?”

  “Of course I do,” she quickly reassured him. “Oh, I suppose it will be all right. It will just sound funny coming from you. I’m called that only at home, and I’ve only known you for a few days.”

  “But you have agreed we are amigos.”

  “Yes, we are friends. And here I am taking advantage of our friendship.” She had noticed that his limp was getting worse. “Here I am making you walk with me, when your ankle isn’t healed yet.”

  He took her arm and steered her back toward the restaurant. “I assure you, it is my pleasure to walk with you…Sammy.”

  She grinned impishly. “Even when you are in pain?”

  “I do not feel pain when I am with you,” he answered smoothly.

  “How gallant! But you really should tell that to your ankle,” she teased.

  They reached the restaurant, and his hand slipped from her arm to her waist as he escorted her to a table. As she felt those strong fingers clasping her side, something happened to Samantha. She grew warm all over, and was sure she was blushing seriously. Yet she was not embarrassed.

  They ate a quiet meal. It was hard to pretend indifference toward Hank, as she had meant to do. He was just too attractive, and she enjoyed his company very much. She found herself glancing at him often during the meal, only to find him glancing at her. He was probably used to having an effect on women, and it thrilled her to have the same effect on such a handsome man.

  They walked back to the hotel slowly, reluctant to part company just yet. But it was late, and the stage would be leaving early the next morning.

  Hank took her to her room, and Samantha waited in breathless anticipation. Would he try to kiss her?

  She didn’t expect him to be so forceful. When she turned to bid him good night, his right arm gripped her waist, drawing her to him. His left hand went to the back of her head and held it so firmly that she couldn’t turn away. She didn’t want to. He was going to kiss her, and she wanted him to kiss her. Just one kiss wouldn’t hurt. She would be sure it was only one.

  The force of his lips on hers was shattering, and for a moment she thought she would faint. She felt his body pressing hard against hers, setting her afire. She was no longer herself but a puppet in his arms.

  When he let her go, she was plunged into disappointment. She was suddenly cold. But then, as he said good night, the look in his eyes warmed her again.

  She entered her room in a daze, leaving her clothes wherever they fell, and crawled into bed, his kiss still burning her lips, her body still trembling.

  Chapter 8

  THE next morning, Adrien intruded into her thoughts, and she felt guilty. Once she had walked up those stairs with Hank, Adrien had ceased to exist. It was as if she had betrayed him, not by the kiss, but by forgetting about him so completely.

  She wouldn’t let it happen again. She could wait until Adrien kissed her and made her feel that same excitement. Naturally, Adrien’s kiss would be even more wonderful, because she loved him. She did
love him. She did. So why did she have to keep reminding herself?

  Angry, Samantha left her hotel room. She wasn’t going to wait for Hank, even though it would give Adrien a chance to see them together. When she got to the lobby, however, Hank was there waiting.

  “Buenos días, Sammy.” Hank smiled.

  Samantha couldn’t meet his eyes. He said her name so softly, as though it were an endearment. How could things have got so far out of hand so quickly? It was obvious that he was falling for her. It was too much, too soon. Would she have to abandon her plan? She certainly didn’t want to hurt this charming man.

  “Hank…about last night,” she began.

  “I have thought of nothing else,” he answered quickly, and she knew that she had to discourage him before his feelings grew.

  “Hank, you…you really shouldn’t have kissed me.”

  “But you enjoyed it.”

  “Yes, only—”

  “It was too soon,” he finished for her, before she could explain about Adrien. “You must forgive me, Sammy. I am not a patient man. For you, however, I will try to be patient.”

  She started to protest, to tell him that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but he took her arm and led her out of the hotel. She would have to tell him that they could only be friends, that she loved Adrien. How could she find the words? Perhaps it would be better if she showed him. Yes, that was it!

  They arrived at the stage office just as the others were getting ready to board. Adrien eyed them coldly. Ah, it had worked so well. He was jealous. But now she couldn’t continue the game. She couldn’t hurt Hank.

  Samantha left Hank’s side without a word and joined Adrien and Jeannette. She would have to appear cold and indifferent to Hank. It was the only way. Yet she felt so damned terrible about it.

  All that day, Samantha sat in the corner opposite Hank, rather than directly across from him, as she had been doing. And she didn’t speak to him or look his way even once. Adrien seemed in a better mood and even talked to her occasionally. He talked mostly with Hank, however.

  That night they stopped at a stage rest, and Samantha continued to ignore Hank. At dinner, she sat as close to Adrien as she could and forced him to talk to her. She did not leave his side until it was time for bed.

  She didn’t sleep that night. She was miserable. She had caught Hank watching her with a curious, almost pleading look. She cursed herself a hundred times for using Hank, as she lay awake all night. He didn’t deserve that. She was so sorry. But the damage had been done.

  The next morning she was so tired that she could hardly walk to the coach. She slept all day, jolted awake every so often, only to fall right back to sleep. That night, when they stopped at another town, she was wide awake. She would not go to a hotel. She would stay close to Adrien. Hank waited to see if she would leave with him, and when she didn’t, he caught her arm and pulled her away from the others, forcing her to talk to him.

  “Why do you ignore me, Sammy?”

  “Ignore you? Whatever do you mean?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You stay close to your friend Adrien as if you were frightened of me.”

  “Adrien is more than just a friend,” she said pointedly, then walked away, tears stinging her eyes. She couldn’t have been more blunt. Now he would have to understand.

  A dark frown furrowed Hank’s brow as he watched her walk away. He wanted to grab her and shake her. What was she doing? Why did she suddenly ignore him and give her full attention to Adrien?

  And then the answer came to him, and he almost laughed aloud. The little fool! She was trying to make him jealous! Didn’t she know how unnecessary that was? He was already completely taken with her. She did not need to make him jealous.

  But he would let her play her game, he decided. For her he would have patience. For her he would do anything.

  The realization startled Hank. It was true. How could he have become enamored of this woman so soon? She had made him forget about Pat, forget about reaching Mexico. Everything flew from his mind except Samantha.

  It confused him. The closest he had ever come to loving a woman was Angela. And that was not so long ago, not so long that he couldn’t remember all too clearly the bitterness of losing her to another man. But all of that seemed unimportant now. Samantha was making him forget even that.

  He didn’t love her yet. He didn’t think it was love, not this soon. But he could love her. He could very well give his heart to her completely, if she would give hers to him in return.

  But he was certain of one thing already. He was aching with wanting her. There was no confusion there. He had only to look at her to feel his blood race. But she was a lady, so he had to move slowly. And it seemed, too, that she wanted to play her feminine games.

  Thinking about those games, Hank shook his head over the absurdity of it. Didn’t Samantha realize what kind of man Adrien Allston was? He could not be jealous over Adrien. He was an hombres puta. Hank could not understand such a man. Already Adrien had made two advances to Hank, the second of which Hank had ended by pulling his gun, making his disgust understood.

  Samantha was as safe with Adrien as she could be with any man, but obviously she didn’t think Hank knew that. He would let her get away with it this one time, wait until she tired of this charade, and then he would speak seriously to her. After that, there would be no more nonsense. He would not allow it. Once he asked her to marry him—Dios! Yes, he realized that he was thinking of doing just that.

  Chapter 9

  THE settlement called Elizabethtown had been established in 1868, two years after gold was found in creeks and gulches around Baldy Mountain. Thousands of miners had come to the area in the last few years, and more were still coming. Buildings rose continuously. They were mostly ramshackle wooden huts, but more than a hundred were already standing—stores, saloons, dance halls, hotels, even a drugstore.

  The coach had made good time and rolled into town in the late afternoon of February 18th. Adrien was infected by the raw, bustling activity of the place and could not wait until the next day to rent a horse and head out for the Moreno Valley. He left Jeannette alone with all their luggage and the supplies.

  Poor Jeannette was dazed. She couldn’t understand Adrien’s wild enthusiasm, nor was she used to depending on herself, for Adrien usually took care of everything.

  Samantha quickly took charge, and Jeannette gratefully let her. Samantha found a cheap hotel and arranged for the Allstons’ things to be carted over there. She intended to stay there, as well. She didn’t like it, but she wouldn’t consider leaving Jeannette alone while Adrien was away.

  Before they left the stage office, Hank Chavez approached them. Samantha grew tense, but he surprised her.

  “Señoritas.” He tipped his hat to them both, then said gallantly, “Your company has turned what would have been a most tedious journey into a pleasurable one.”

  Samantha nodded. “You are kind to say so.”

  “Perhaps we will see each other again before I leave,” Hank continued, his eyes on Samantha.

  “Perhaps,” she replied evasively.

  He smiled. “If not, I bid you adiós now, Samantha. Señorita Allston.”

  He tipped his hat again and was suddenly gone. Samantha stared after him. She was relieved, yet she felt something else as well, something she couldn’t define. He did understand, she told herself. By calling her Samantha, he was saying he understood. And he was completely gracious about it, as she had hoped he would be. In fact, she thought, he had given up a bit too easily.

  “He certainly was a nice gentleman—considering,” Jeannette remarked.

  “Yes, he was.”

  “And he was certainly taken with you, chérie.”

  “Not…not really,” Samantha replied uneasily.

  “Ah, you did not like him then?” Jeannette continued. “I do not blame you. He was not a very appealing man.”

  “What do you mean?” Samantha asked sharply. “He was very handsome.”<
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  Jeannette was shocked. “Mon Dieu! You are being too kind, chérie. The man was much too dark. Too…how can I explain? Rugged looking, too dangerous. He would make a terrible lover.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He would be too aggressive, too demanding. The rugged ones are always demanding.”

  Samantha’s eyes snapped green fire. “Do you speak from experience?” she asked cuttingly, angered.

  “Oui, chérie,” Jeannette replied evenly, then walked away, leaving Samantha staring after her in surprise.

  It was late that evening when Adrien returned and found Jeannette and Samantha at the hotel. He was excited, full of prospects for the next day. He had received a great deal of advice from miners who already had claims staked, advice about where he was likely to find gold. He found no gold the next day, but his enthusiasm was not dampened. On the third day he found a few nuggets of gold near a dry creek bed and immediately staked a claim. He returned to town only to file the claim and to fetch supplies, then headed back toward the valley.

  Jeannette and Samantha went with him that day so that they would be able to find him in the future, for he would live out there in the valley. Jeannette was worried. It was the middle of February, hardly a good time to be sleeping in a tent in the open air. But Adrien was determined.

  Jeannette was also determined—to visit him each day. Samantha went along every time. It was her only chance to see Adrien.

  Except for those rides out to Adrien’s claim, Samantha was bored. There was nothing to do in Elizabethtown. She found herself spending a good deal of time in the general store, buying things she didn’t even need. But it was an interesting place, typical of stores in the Southwest, and smelled of plug tobacco, leather, freshground coffee, and even pickled fish. There were few luxuries. Basic items and food needed for a rugged life crowded every available space. Even the rafters were hung with hams, slabs of bacon, and cooking pots. The floors were covered with barrels and kegs brimming with sugar, flour, even vinegar. This was where Samantha went, nearly every day, to pass the time.