Nevada Nights (25 page)

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Cameron stood back, surveying the clutter of the tiny cottage. She had made a bed of clean hay and quilts carried from Quenton’s house. A lovely pitcher and basin stood on a small dresser. Beside it, the dressing mirror from her mother’s room reflected the mass of scarlet roses that framed the open window.

She had swept the dirt floor and covered it with a braided rug. A cozy fire crackled in the fireplace. On the raised hearth stood a basket laden with kindling.

She had tackled a backbreaking job this day. The endless miles from Quenton’s house up the hill to this cottage had taken their toll. But she was grateful. There had been no time to dwell on what might have been; no time to weep.

Cameron removed her dirt-stained britches and rough homespun shirt and poured water into the basin. After washing thoroughly and brushing her hair until it shone, she slipped the elegant nightdress over her head and smoothed down the long skirt. This had been her mother’s. It still bore the delicate scent of sachet from the closet. Tonight, she decided, she had earned the luxury of a special garment.

Turning down the quilt, she crossed the room and stared at the midnight sky, watching shadows drift across the hills, listening to the sigh of the night wind. Was Colt lying somewhere in a bedroll, gazing up at the same sky? She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke her. She had promised herself she wouldn’t torture herself with thoughts of him. But the night silence brought him rushing back to her mind. She would forever be able to recall the musky scent of him, the rich, deep timbre of his voice, his strength, his tenderness. She could fill her days with work. But her nights, she feared, would be endlessly painful.

With a determined shake of her head, she bent to blow out the candle. Hearing a sound at the door, she looked up fearfully, expectantly.

Moonlight streamed through the open door. Silhouetted in the amber rays was a figure that caused her heart to stop. She forced herself to remain still, even though she longed to rush to his arms.

Michael stared at the figure illuminated by the candlelight. Her eyes rounded, then softened. Her hair, freshly brushed, cascaded in soft waves down her back. Through the delicate, opaque gown, he could see the soft swell of her breasts, the narrow waist, the flare of her hips.

He studied her through narrowed eyes. "I should have been halfway to Texas by now."

"What stopped you?"

"A damn fool headstrong girl who’ll probably have me talking to myself next."

He watched her spine straighten, her chin jut at an imperial angle.

"I didn’t want to stand in your way, Michael. I know you have important work to do. I can take care of myself."

"Yes. I know you can." He took a step forward. "Except when a dozen evil drifters get wind of your silver mine. I suppose you’ll have to hold them off with a couple of hired guns. The more I thought about it, the more I decided you’d probably have need of a trusted gunfighter."

She nodded, feeling the first tiny trickle of hope. "I hadn’t thought of that. You could be right."

"My work in Texas is important, Cammy. I don’t just do it because it’s exciting. I’ve helped catch some of the West’s most vicious killers."

"I’m sure you have. You can be proud of your work, Michael."

He nodded. "But I think you need me here even more than Texas does."

She inclined her head slightly. "I suppose I could use some help."

"Then I’m hired?"

She frowned. "Not yet. You haven’t told me how much this will cost me."

He swore in frustration. "It’s going to cost you plenty, lady. I’m the best. I’m worth three of any other men."

"How much?"

He paused, calculating. "A percentage of the take from the mine."

She shook her head. "No deal."

Michael stiffened. "What! Why not?"

"The only ones who get a share of this mine are kin. I don’t recall hearing of any Grays in the family."

"We could change that."

She went very still. Her heart was hammering so loudly, she was certain he could hear it. "And how do you propose to change it?"

His words tumbled out in a rush. "You could marry me."

"Do you know what you’re saying?" She studied him, noting the lines of tension on his face. "It would mean giving up the danger, the excitement, of the Texas Rangers."

Michael moved a step closer to touch her arm, and the shockwave that trembled through her jolted him as well.

"While I was riding, Cameron, I was thinking about something Sister Leona said the day we rescued her. She asked me if I believed that the hand of God touches all our lives."

Cameron nodded, remembering.

A smile curved the corners of his lips. "Isn’t it strange how plans have a way of changing, without any warning, when the fates step in?"

Cameron watched him, thrilling to his words.

"All my life I’ve wanted danger, excitement. That’s why I left my comfortable home in Canada. That’s why I joined the Texas Rangers."

She felt the tremor of eagerness, of breathless anxiety coursing along her spine.

He allowed his gaze to trail slowly from her bare feet, planted firmly on the rag rug, to her hands, held stiffly against her sides, to her heaving breasts, impatient to hear all he had to say. He stared at her lovely face turned up to study him. Finally his gaze rested on her mane of burnished hair.

"Cameron McCormick, let’s stop playing with words. I can’t imagine anything more dangerous or more exciting than you. And I can’t think of a greater challenge. There is nothing in this whole world I’d rather do than spend the rest of my life with you."

Her breath caught in her throat. He had just spoken all the words her heart had been longing for. She had feared she would never hear him say them.

"Oh, Colt. Do you really mean it?"

He gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips to a tangle of hair at her temple. Against the pounding pulse beat, he murmured, "I love you, Cameron McCormick. More than anything in this world. When I heard you telling the others to look up at the stars and think of you, I realized I could never again look at the stars without feeling a stab of pain. I could never again enjoy a full moon in a night sky without missing you. What would my life be like without you? Oh, Cameron, you little wildcat. I want to stay with you. I want us to tame this wild savage land together."

He brought his lips to hers, feeling the instant surge of passion. "You’ve already tamed this wild savage heart, my love."

"Don’t ever go away again, Michael. Don’t ever leave me alone." She stood there, locked in his embrace, overwhelmed by the scent of horse and leather and by the quiet strength of him. The tears she had fought all through this long day burned in her throat. "I love you so much. When you left me, it was the worst hurt I’ve ever known."

His voice was a whispered caress. "I’ll never leave you again, little Cammy. I know the pain you went through. Today, leaving you was worse than the time I faced cutting off my hand. This time, I had tried to cut out my heart."

"Oh, Colt. I love you so."

He raised his head. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. "I can see that you’re going to have to battle a love for two men."

When she raised an eyebrow, he added, "Colt, and Michael Gray."

She chuckled, then murmured against his lips, "I love both of you. Forever. For a lifetime, and beyond."

Her words were swallowed up in a kiss so powerful, she clung to him.

Once she had thought this harsh land bred harsh people. Now she knew that a certain toughness was necessary to survive this land. She and Michael were two of a kind. Neither would tame the other. But they would love with a passion. And that would be enough.

They had both traveled across a continent to a primitive, distant land, seeking their heart’s desire.

"Welcome home, Michael." Her lips opened in invitation.

In this man’s arms, Cameron McCormick knew she had also come home. And secure in his love, she was home to stay.

1879

Cameron bent and placed freshly picked roses on the graves of her father and mother, then moved to the grave of her grandfather, William Lampton, and wiped a speck of dirt from the headstone.

Surveying the land with satisfaction, her glance rested on the magnificent mansion which towered above the stand of trees where the McCormick land had once joined the Lampton land. Now, they were one. When their house had been completed, she had instructed the workmen to move the graves to their present site, alongside the fragrant rose garden.

Kneeling beside the headstones, she took the faded newspaper clipping from her pocket and read it for the millionth time.

August 16, 1874. The largest silver mine in the world has been discovered just outside the town of Virginia City, Nevada. Experts disagree on the value, but estimates are in the millions of dollars. The discovery is a bonanza. 

Cameron smiled suddenly, recalling the letter that had arrived the week before. Quenton wrote that he and Nina had presented Alexander with a baby brother. The boy, named William, was pink and plump and so far had a fine growth of dark fuzz on his perfectly shaped little head. A portrait of Nina and the children, painted by the proud Quenton, would follow.

Ti, he added, was teaching Miriam to swim, and although she was still confined to her wheelchair, she was content, and blissfully in love.

At the top of the hill, a black stallion appeared with his tall, dark rider. Cameron’s heart stopped, and for a moment she was seventeen again on a tiny, crescent-shaped island, riding alongside a stranger toward her destiny.

She blinked, and over the hill came a pony bearing a small, dark miniature of the man. Behind the boy, her plump arms clinging tenaciously to his waist, sat a barefoot urchin, her red-gold curls bouncing about her shoulders.

Cameron stood and brushed the grass from her skirts. Michael reined in his horse and lifted Cameron easily in his powerful arms, planting a kiss soundly on her lips. The children whooped in glee. Setting her back down, he said, "A letter came today. From the Convent of the Sisters of Divine Charity."

He glanced at the children astride their pony. "I’ve been thinking. Jameson is a very capable mine foreman. We’ve sent the latest accounting to Quenton and Miriam. The house is complete. Everything is going smoothly. This would be a fine time to visit my family in Ottawa. Maybe we could make a stop first at Allumette Island."

He watched the smile of pleasure on her beautiful face.

"The dear old sisters are probably just about recovered from all those years with you, Cammy. I think they might be up to entertaining a couple of ragamuffins. Especially that one with her mother’s green eyes and fiery hair."

"Oh, Michael. Could we?" Her eyes lit with pleasure.

He lifted her gently to the horse’s back and wrapped his arms about her waist, burying his face in the wild tangle of hair.

"Together, we can do anything in the world, Cammy. Anything."

She laughed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. She tossed her head and spurred the horse past the children’s pony. Her girlish voice rippled on the breeze. "Come on," she called. "We’ll race you home."

The End