Quillan moved between them. “I have the wagon provisioned. You have the documents?”
Documents? What were they doing? Business, Quillan said, business with the mine that didn’t concern her. Alex nodded, careful not to look her way again. She wished he would, but then she didn’t. It was Quillan’s glance she craved.
Quillan said, “I’ll meet you at the livery as soon as I take leave of my wife.”
Now Alex did look. “Good-bye, Carina. I hope your recovery is swift.”
She forced a smile, but no words came. It hurt to see him so withdrawn, he who had upheld her hopes and spirits, given her kindness and compassion and good humor. Though chaste, they had crossed emotional boundaries. And he was hurt by it. She must never let that happen again.
Quillan closed the door behind Alex and returned to the bedside. “I won’t be later than tomorrow unless—”
“Your safety is first.” She reached a hand to his sleeve. “Don’t take risks you shouldn’t.”
He frowned. “Are you afraid for me or for him?” His anger flashed, then receded. He dropped to a squat and clasped her hand. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say that.” But she knew he’d seen her affection for Alex, and it burned him. What in another man might be jealousy, in this one was poison.
She started to speak, but he covered her lips with his hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation, and frankly, nothing you say would speak more truly than your face already did. But I’ll tell you one thing, Carina.
No one will have the chance to take my place again. No one.”
A soft whimper escaped her throat as he caught her face between his hands and stared at her hard until she thought she could bear it no longer. “Nothing short of a blizzard will keep me away tomorrow.” He stood, but his gaze lingered on hers. “I’ll even bring Alex Makepeace back with me.” He gave her his rogue’s smile.
It tugged at her heart, made it leap inside her breast. Certainly he would kiss her; she wanted him to. But he backed two steps away from the bed, turned slowly on his heel, and crossed to the door. Sam sprang up, but he ordered the dog to stay, then left them.
Sam whined at the wood separating him from his master. His whole body swung with the wag of his tail, hoping the door would open and the hand he craved wave him on. As the moment passed and Sam’s sharp ears told him Quillan was gone, he dropped his head and padded to her bedside, his brown eyes forlorn.
“I know how you feel.” Carina stroked his head. “But he’ll be back.” She wished she felt more certain of that.
THREE
To claim I am a man betrayed and rant against my plight,
I must admit I should have stayed and kept her in my sight.
What fool to flee her sweet embrace,
to tear her love apart, and let another take my place within her weeping heart.
—Quillan
QUILLAN AND ALEX MAKEPEACE rode the steep, snow-packed road between Crystal and Leadville. It might have been easier to travel horseback, but with the wagon, Quillan could make the trip count twice. He’d bring back a light load, things he could sell at a profit in Crystal, which was less accessible than Leadville. He’d already resupplied Carina’s larder, but there were plenty of others, Mrs. Barton in particular, who would pay well for anything he brought her.
And if they were stopped by a storm, the wagon would provide shelter. He’d spent one night beneath it with Carina while a blizzard raged around them. He didn’t warm to the thought of doing the same with Alex Makepeace, but weather was chancy in the mountains. Better to be prepared.
At least Makepeace didn’t expect conversation. At most they discussed the mine and a little of the industry. Makepeace was sharp enough and educated. If Quillan cared to, he might learn a lot about mining from the man. But just now his intentions were to rid himself of the New Boundless and cut loose of Crystal. As soon as Carina could travel. As soon as she was well. Dr. Felden believed she would recover if she gave herself time to heal.
Makepeace cleared his throat. Quillan waited for him to talk, but the man settled back into his thoughts. Quillan returned to his own. This trip hadn’t exactly been what he intended. Quillan had intended to seek Tabor’s advice, but he hadn’t premeditated his offer to Makepeace. If that was how God worked, Quillan had better keep his wits sharp.
But it was a sound plan. Owning the New Boundless would keep Makepeace in Crystal, a detail that had occurred to Quillan after he left Carina. A thousand miles between Crystal and Sonoma should be just about right.
Maybe Horace Tabor was not interested in another mine, but he’d know who was. And the New Boundless was successful. Tabor would wonder at Quillan’s decision. But then Horace Tabor had yet to get a handle on him. Quillan half smiled. He sort of liked it that way.
They reached Leadville by late afternoon, just as the sun left the sky. Quillan left the wagon in the livery. He paid the ostler for feed, then turned to Makepeace. “First, I have some freight to collect. Then we’ll see Hod Tabor. You’ll need a hotel.” The Tabors would likely offer a room in their home, but he didn’t fancy sharing it with Alex Makepeace. The hours in the wagon had allowed plenty of time to stew on Makepeace’s relationship with Carina, and the dragon was twisting again.
“Meet me here in an hour.”
Makepeace nodded and headed for the hotel on the corner. Quillan worked quickly to collect goods for the trip back. In just short of an hour he returned to the livery and found Makepeace waiting. He took the New Boundless documents, and they boarded the horse car, which carried them to Tabor’s street.
They discovered the Tabors were at dinner, and as Quillan and Makepeace were shown to the dining room, Tabor stood. “Quillan!” He gripped his hand. “You show up at the queerest times. Augusta and I were just discussing you.”
“All good, I hope.” Quillan reached down to where Augusta sat, took her hand, and covered it with his other palm.
“Hello, Quillan. You’re quite robust, I see. Altogether recovered since the last time we met.”
Quillan softened his gaze. “Thanks to your kindness, Augusta.”
“Hmm.” She sniffed. “And who is this you’ve brought?”
Quillan turned. “Alex Makepeace, may I present Horace and Augusta Tabor.”
With a look close to awe, Makepeace shook hands with each.
Quillan turned to Tabor. “Have time to talk business?”
Augusta stood abruptly. “Certainly not on an empty stomach. If I know you, Quillan, you’ve dragged this poor fellow through the snow without a morsel to warm or sustain him. Am I right?” She addressed Alex Makepeace.
“Unless you consider hardtack a meal.”