Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

G il could only stare at the woman. Pretend . Not actually marry her. But still…

"Just for a few days." Her voice was pleading. "Long enough to convince my father. Then I'll take you to Sampson, and we can all leave, together."

It was a crazy plan. Dangerous, probably. What kind of man must her father be to drive her to such desperation? Or was she addled? Maybe her father was really kind, doing his best to care for her. Maybe she didn't have a father at all.

He eased out a breath. "How do I know you're speaking the truth?" A question from earlier slipped back in. "And how do you know who I am and about my brother?"

She dipped her chin, acknowledging the fairness of his questions. "I saw you at the general store last week. In Canvas Creek. You caught that boy stealing and made him admit what he'd done to the clerk."

Once more, he raised his brows at her. His mouth was hanging open, too, so he shut it. "How could you know that?" He'd made sure to stay out of sight when the lad approached the clerk with a somber face and the nickel.

The corners of her mouth tugged, and a smile lit her eyes.

His pulse responded, surging until his chest tightened. She was… Beautiful didn't begin to cover it. An angel. She had to be. How else could she take his breath with only a tiny smile?

She opened her mouth to speak, and he leaned in so he didn't miss a word. "I was in the next row over. I'm sorry I listened in. I suppose I should have made my presence known." The smile faded from her eyes, taking with it all the light. "My father had a guard watching me. He wouldn't have let me speak to you."

Gil strained to remember who else had been in the store. He'd spent enough time in town these past few weeks, searching for Sampson, that he'd recognized most of the faces in the store that day. He'd even recognized the lad from passing him in the streets a time or two.

But there had been one man near the door… A bit on the small side, he didn't look strong enough to be anyone's guard. He wore his years in the deep lines of his leathery face, just like all the older miners in the area did. Gil'd had no reason to suspect he was anyone else than a miner come to town for supplies, lingering in the warmth the store's woodstove offered before he headed back to one of the dilapidated shanties down by the river.

Gil honed his gaze on Miss McPharland. "What did the man look like?"

She frowned. "Jedidiah? He's short and wiry. Doesn't look like he'd be much trouble, but he's brutal. And his men are loyal. They won't cross him. They know better."

That first bit described the man he'd seen. The latter…well, Gil had been shielded from men like that since they moved to the Territory. But he still remembered the Montgomery's gang who rode through Fort Scott, where they'd lived in Kansas. Brutal described them. Men who wouldn't blink an eye before they'd shoot a woman or child at point blank range. Like they didn't own a conscience. Or a soul.

Miss McPharland was watching him, her gaze unreadable. If her father was associated with men like that, she did need to escape.

And she'd said she could take him to Sampson. They'd been searching for him over a month now. If he could just find his brother, he could convince him he'd be welcome at home.

If finding Sampson and protecting this woman required him to get into her father's good graces by pretending to be her husband, he could do that. He'd always had a gift for settling tense situations. A few pleasant words, a little something to make people smile, and they forgot about their anger or worry enough to think rationally.

Before he could commit to her plan though, he had a few more questions. "What makes you think your father would believe our ruse? I've never met him. If he never lets you leave here, how could we be married?"

Something flashed in her eyes—embarrassment maybe?—but then her face sobered. "Remember I said I tried to run away a couple months ago?"

He nodded.

"I was gone for three days before they found me." She shrugged. "Enough time for a ceremony."

He could imagine how she would answer his next question, but he had to ask it anyway, just to tease her. "I've generally thought it would take me more than three days to get to know a woman before I proposed marriage." Though it had taken him less than an hour to decide he would agree to her proposal now.

For a fake marriage. That was the difference. No matter how a part of him wanted to suggest the real thing.

A ridiculous part of him, obviously.

Like he'd just said, he'd need to know the woman a lot better than he did this one before he'd contemplate spending the rest of his life with her.

She wrinkled her nose. "I plan to tell him we met when I was picking berries. You were riding through the mountains looking for your brother. You've been in the area a while, and we continued meeting." Again, she shrugged. "It's certainly founded on the truth, just not the same timing."

He let silence settle as he mulled through the other things they'd need to consider.

She waited quietly. So many people couldn't be so patient, always needing to fill the noise or rush off to get things done.

After another minute, he leveled a look at her. "If your father is the kind of man you describe, how will he react to the news?"

Her mouth pinched. "He has…other plans for me—a match that's advantageous for him. He won't like it."

The news shot down Gil's spine. "You're betrothed?" Another surprise shouldn't shock him. But truly, what other shocking news would she casually share?

"I've only met my so-called intended once. He's twice my age. While he was crossing the street to meet us at the cafe, he kicked a dog and then backhand a boy who was trying to get out of his way on the boardwalk." She narrowed her gaze. "During the conversation, he ate his food as well as half of mine while boasting about how powerful he was in whatever mining town he came from. His exact words were, ‘There's not a man for miles around who isn't under my thumb. Some come easily, others learn the hard way.'"

The way she'd lowered her voice to a man's pitch might have been humorous, if not for the desperation in her gaze. Her eyes pleaded with him even more than her words did. "I don't know if he'll be worse than my father, but he's the same kind of man. I can't risk it."

Gil would be tarred and feathered before he let her be legally bound to a man like that. But there was one more question he needed to ask, now while she might be most open to answering. "Where is my brother?"

She pulled back a little, her gaze searching him. Was she looking for something in particular? Or trying to decide whether to answer?

He leaned forward, letting her see his earnestness. "I'll help you, Miss McPharland. But I need to know that you really can take me to Sampson. I've been searching for him for weeks now. If he's in this area, I have to find him."

She regarded him a few more seconds. "He works for my father. He's done so for more than a month now. When we've convinced my father we're truly married and feel confident he'll let us leave together, I'll take you to your brother."

The way she pressed her mouth closed made it clear that was all he'd get on the matter. It was enough though. The daughter of a man like she described may not be entirely trustworthy—after all, she was asking Gil to help her deceive her own father—but he'd get her to safety, whether he received anything in return or not. But if he could possibly find Sampson and the sapphires stolen from them at the same time, he wouldn't let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

"I'll do it." He extended his hand across the table.

Her eyes grew wide. Because of his nearness, or did she not know that was usually part of business dealings?

Whatever the reason, the way she looked so startled would never do.

"Jess." He kept his voice gentle and used her given name, as he would if they were married.

"Yes?" She blinked, her voice weak.

He had to bite back a smile. "If we're husband and wife, you'll have to let me touch you. There's no way we can convince anyone if you shrink back from my hand."

Fear crossed her features, making itself evident in the trembling at the corners of her lips. What had he said?

You'll have to let me touch you.

He was a clumsy, numb-brained oaf.

He leaned back and gripped the edge of the table on his side. "I didn't mean it like that. Not touch you . Just…touch you." He raised his hand, palm up. "You know. Like your hand."

He was making a mess of this. Where were all his charming words when he needed them? He had to get them past this, and maybe he could even pull a smile from her in the process.

He hunched low to be eye level with her. "I'm sorry, Jess. I said that all wrong. But it makes me realize there's something that needs to be said between us." He swallowed to moisten his throat. He needed her to hear this clearly. "I'm honored that you asked for my help. Honestly, it scares me a little to think what might have happened if you asked someone you couldn't be sure would value a lady's…" The heat searing his neck wouldn't quite let him get the word virtue out. So he pushed on.

"I promise I won't misuse your trust. We will have to be friendly enough to be convincing, but I promise I won't touch you in any way that's indecent." He let out a breath. Surely she understood the point he was trying to make without him having to turn any redder.

He half-expected her to have that little smile at her mouth at his embarrassment, but instead, her eyes held a sheen of moisture. Had he made such a mess of it? Or was she so affected by his promise to be honorable?

By the openness in her expression—was that wonder?—his insides twisted. She must have only been exposed to men with the lowest of characters in this remote place.

Sampson was working with these men?

That thought knotted even tighter in his gut. Had he become like them? Surely not. His brother was young and ambitious, no doubt, but he'd been raised just like the rest of them. He wouldn't turn his back on God and decency completely.

Would he?

Gil had to find him, soon. Had to get his little brother away from this place. And now Jess too. He'd doubled his mission, but he would fulfill it. He had to.