The Escort

chapter 8

A discreet cough brought an end to their embrace, reminding them that there were others in the car. Tonio set her down.

"You don't tell me anything I don't already know," Angelina whispered. She traced the outline of his mouth lightly with her fingers. He didn't smile or laugh as she expected. His look was frighteningly solemn. She dropped her hand and nervously fingered her necklace. He covered her fidgeting hand with his own.

"That may be true. I need to talk to you someplace private. The salon car should be empty at this hour."

She was too nervous to look directly at him as he seated himself next to her on the plush red velvet couch. Heavy velvet curtains framed stained glass windows. Above, the ceiling was frescoed in mosaics of gold, emerald green, crimson, sky blue, violet, and black. She felt shabby and underdressed in such opulent surroundings, but Tonio seemed at ease and unimpressed. She skimmed her fingers across a walnut end table next to her and waited for Tonio to speak. Her heart thumped wildly.

"I hurt your feelings tonight. I wanted to apologize." He ran his hand along her arm. "I know you think I'm cruel for letting everyone believe you're an easy woman. I could have told them the truth, but they wouldn't believe it. There's something between us, Angelina. Let them believe it's only lust."

He nuzzled into her neck and whispered into her ear. "There are things going on here that you don't understand. I'm caught in the middle of a dangerous battle. It's better if you don't know anything. You're safer if they think you're incidental to me."

"What battle, Tonio?" His breath in her ear sent pleasant shivers down her spine. It took all her concentration to speak. He sucked her ear lobe and her heart raced out of control. What was he talking about? She kept expecting a declaration of love, but he stopped short and pulled back.

"Damned arranged marriages." He spoke the words with the force of an epithet. His change of course caught Angelina off guard. Only the alcohol on his breath and the odd jumping of his thoughts gave away his inebriated state.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm no good at loving people, Angelina. Less so at protecting them." He stroked her hair. "Do you hear what I'm saying? Maybe I'm as warped as the man who raised me, unable to really love."

"I don't believe that," she said.

"Believe it. Did I tell you that just before he died, my uncle told me that he, not his brother, was really my father? I was so angry with Sebastion. I broke that old man's heart because I couldn't accept the truth from the man who treated me like a son, who loved me. I am a bastard." He leaned into her.

He ran his fingers lightly through Angelina's loose hair in a tender, lover-like gesture and stared at the gold cross she nervously played with. Under his appraisal she stopped her fidgeting. "My mother had a necklace very much like that one. She never took it off, even though she owned far finer jewelry. I always wondered what happened to it after she died."

He dropped his hand from her hair and lifted the necklace from her fingers. He studied it closely for a moment, then gently set it against her bosom. "It was probably a gift from Sebastian. Likely, my father melted it down after her death.

"My father is a bastard, as you like to put it. But he is one of the best men I know. More should be like him." Angelina put her hand on Tonio's arm. She wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him but wasn't brave enough.

She held up her gold cross. "How do you think my family came to own such a valuable treasure? My grandmother gave this to me when I was small. She told me it was a gift of true love, that someday I would find a man that loved me as much as the man that gave it to her loved her. I believed her. You could call me a fool.

"When I was older, I found out it was a gift to her from her lover, a wealthy landowner, a married one. She worked for him when she was very young. She got pregnant. His wife forced her to leave. He gave her this necklace in parting."

He pulled her close once again. "You didn't have to give up your family skeletons for my sake. That's the difference between us. You give love and comfort where you can. And me…" He leaned down as if to kiss her. "I can't save you from this damned arranged marriage of yours."

He kissed her but it was a rough, drunken kiss, fueled by alcohol and frustration. When he released her, she rose shakily.

"Not like this, Tonio. Good night."



The next day, as Tonio sat next to her poring over a long report filled with numbers, Angelina marveled at how easily they picked their routine back up. Tonio apologized for his behavior of the night before, stating as obvious defense his drunkenness. She accepted with the distinct feeling that his past was no longer open for discussion and he hadn't told her all he'd meant to.

He'd regained control of himself easily. At breakfast, he appeared freshly shaven, without any signs of suffering a hangover, or any genuine embarrassment for his confessions or actions. He ate a hearty breakfast, then spent the next two hours tutoring her in English, both pronunciation and writing, as he had for the last several days. Then he retreated to his mining reports.

Though she was curious about them, there was no use peering surreptitiously over his shoulder to read them. They were written in technical terms in English. She recognized few of the words. Seated in his lap was a leather bound ledger. From time to time he entered numbers into its neat columns.

"What are you working on?"

He was so absorbed in his work that she had to repeat the question twice before he looked up. He continued copying numbers as he spoke. "Assay reports for the Jupiter."

"I thought you were a miner, not an accountant." She nodded toward the ledger.

"I'm a mine owner. That makes me bookkeeper, miner, slave."

"Tell me about your mine, Tonio."

"You must be bored. No one opens that topic with me willingly."

She shrugged.

"What do you want to know?"

"How you got it, what it's worth, how much money you make from it."

He laughed. "You'll be sorry you asked." He set his reports aside. "I bought in as a minority partner last winter before leaving for New York, for groceries, if you can believe that." His eyes lit up as he spoke. "I was up at Dan Cardoner's store getting supplies when Harry Orchard came in. Cardoner wouldn't sell to him without cash. He'd already exhausted Cardoner's patience with him and his credit. He offered to trade Cardoner his share in the Jupiter to clear his debt and cover what he wanted. I offered to cash Cardoner out for half of Orchard's debt and half the shares.

"I'd been looking to get in on the Jupiter, pestering the Halls to let me in, but none of the partners were selling. I turned in my resignation to the Bunker the next day and started working my claim immediately. I own enough shares to make me a rich man when we find the mother lode."

"And what makes you think you will?"

His papers rustled as he adjusted in his seat. "We've assayed out some good samples of galena—that's silver ore. And geologically speaking, we're on the right side of the valley to find the main vein."

"What does that mean?" She knew nothing about mining.

"Thousands of years ago there was a single large silver vein. Then according to the geologists, there was a great earthquake that split the land and created the valley. It split the silver vein as well.

"But it did more than just create the crevasse of the valley. The two sides of the land mass shifted several miles. You can see it as you travel through the valley. To the west all of the mines, most notoriously, the Bunker Hill and Sullivan, are all located on the south side of the valley. As you travel east, it shifts. There all of the ore has been found to the north of the valley floor.

"Burke, where our mine is located, is north of the valley, well within the range of the shift. Not a single ore sample has been found to the south in our area. When we get to Idaho, pay attention. As we travel along you'll see what I'm talking about. All of the mine tunnels will be on one side and then they abruptly shift. No one has found the north side of the mother vein yet. But the twin to the Bunker's vein has to be there. I believe we have it within our claim, and we're going to find it."

"You quit your job?"

"Going with my gut, Angelina. I know we have a winner. I felt it from the beginning. Harry Day, the primary owner, is a sharp man. He's run core samples that look promising. We're pulling galena, just not the quality and quantity we'd like to see."

"When we get to Idaho, why don't you take me to your mine and let me pan for silver? I'll find your vein."

This time he laughed loudly. "You could find my vein all right, but it wouldn't be silver. No, darling, you don't pan for silver. You blast tunnels into the ground to find it. That's my contribution. I blast tunnels. In fact, there's a good supply of my best dynamite aboard this train."

She pulled back from him. A frightening gleam sparked to life in his eyes when he mentioned blasting.

"I got it cheap from the railroad. A buddy of Sal's stole it. Sal's buddy is a shovel leaner, likes to make a buck the easy way. He had no use for it, so I got the whole pilfered lot for a fourth of what it's worth. That'll cover my share of the Jupiter' expenses for a good six months."

"We could be blown up?" She didn't mean to sound shrill.

"It's inert. It won't go off unless someone sets a spark to it. The railroad knows I'm shipping it and they've taken precautions. Imagine the irony, the railroad shipping its own stolen dynamite."

She wasn't convinced.

"I wouldn't risk your safety, would I? After all, I am the assigned guardian of your virtue. I suppose that includes your life." His light tone turned serious. "I'm careful with explosives, Angelina. If I weren't, I wouldn't be here. Dynamiting is dangerous art. Only the skilled, of whom I'm the best, survive."

"Modest?"

"Truthful."

"Now that you've quit your job, your share of mine profits supports you?"

"Hardly." He laughed. "The mine's official name is the Jupiter, but the partners refer to it as the Hole, mostly because it's a hole in the pocketbook. The ore we take out doesn't even cover expenses. Each partner has to chip in monthly or sell out to someone who can. Most everybody has another job to pay their share of the costs. May Hall cooks for the Colonel, her husband Al drives a locomotive. Gus Preston quit his job at the dairy to work full time in the mine. He pays by sweat equity. A couple of years ago he was solely responsible for all of the drilling that was done."

"And you?"

"I have a small inheritance from my uncle, I mean, my father. And I work in the tunnel."

Angelina's mind whirled with possibilities. Mining intrigued her. "What kind of expenses?"

"Supplies—food, kerosene, tools, explosives. Assaying fees. And of course labor. Which right now is running about sixty-five man days a month at the going rate of $3.50 per day. We pay union scale. Many of our partners are strong union supporters and we don't want any violence.

"There's a labor war brewing in the Valley. Small skirmishes break out from time to time. But sooner or later, it will be an all-out war. The union wants the big mines like the Bunker to pay scale. The big mine owners are refusing, paying their men much less. They won't come to a meeting of the minds without violence."

His talk frightened her. She wondered about Mr. Allessandro. Could he have been hurt in one of those skirmishes? Could he be in danger? Could Tonio?

"Idaho miners are a breed unto themselves and not a civilized one. They blew up the Frisco in ninety-two, that's what I mean by war. A Pinkerton agent was called in to root out those responsible. Since then there's been no love lost between the owners and their employees. We pay scale, but if the men get violent there's no guarantee we'll be protected. Mob mentality has a life all its own."

"So you and your partners plan to remain neutral and hope for the best. What if they blow up the big mines and leave yours alone; will it affect you?"

He smiled, pleased with her interest and acuity. "It will if they blow up the rail lines or the assay office or threaten our men."

"You really think you'll strike it rich?"

"Noah Kellogg, the old prospector whose jackass discovered the Bunker Hill and Sullivan vein, did. When we find the twin vein, we'll mine it ourselves and make much more than old Noah ever dreamed of."

"It seems to me that if an ass," she emphasized the word, "can find silver, then you ought to be able to."

He laughed outright at her insult and replied lightly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"What happened to the jackass? Maybe he could help you, too."

"Dead."

"Too bad." She watched him pick up his papers as he prepared to return to work. "Tonio, why did you agree to take me to the mining country?"

"A woman should be allowed to pursue her dream, no matter what the consequences might be. I'm liberal-minded enough to want you to have that chance."

He adjusted the ledger in his lap.

"The mine is your dream?"

"For now, yes."

She nodded. "I believe in your gut. You will find that galena and be rich. You won't forget your old friend then, will you?"

"Angel, I'll never forget you."

To her surprise, Tonio set his ledger down and left without saying another word.

Angelina walked the entire length of the train before she found him, sitting cockeyed on the rail of the caboose. She watched him from the doorway, studying him as he poured some kind of powder from a small vial onto tiny sheets of thin paper. Then he twisted the paper closed and threw them over the rail. His eyes lit up as he watched the small, paper bombs fly overboard and hit the ground.

His profile was strong and proudly Roman. His dark hair blew in the breeze. He was so absorbed with his game that he didn't notice her. Something about his passion for it scared her. He seemed too fascinated by the power of his small creations.

"What are you doing?"

He answered without starting or turning to face her. "Entertaining myself. I wondered how long you'd stand in the door without speaking."

"I didn't think you noticed me."

"No one sneaks up on me, not since the war." A sudden updraft blew his hair up, above his collar, exposing his scar.

She shuddered at the reminder of the violence he'd suffered.

He turned to face her. "Not that I ever wouldn't notice you, Angel." His voice was warm and sultry. It was strange that his formal, educated Italian fell pleasantly on her ears.

He held out his hand to her. She accepted it and he pulled her close to him and the rail.

"Watch this." He tossed a small paper over the edge.

Angelina watched it hit the track below and explode. The noise was barely audible over the sound of the train.

"Such a small show of power, but power nonetheless," he said.

"What's the powder?"

"Gunpowder. It explodes with the force of hitting the ground, much the same way it does when the hammer of a gun hits a bullet and sends it flying."

"Where did you get it?"

"I reload all my own ammunition."

She shuddered again. He pulled her into him, thinking she was cold. "You could blow yourself up. Why don't you just buy new?"

"Reloading is cheaper and untraceable. There aren't any store owners can tell you how much ammunition I've got."

"And why is that important?"

He laughed. "It's obvious you don't come from the Valley. Baker, our union leader, advocates every union having a gun club. A man needs protection."

He wrapped his arms around her and held a paper out to her to hold. "Feel the excitement for yourself. Help me make one."

She held it firmly, enjoying the feel of his breath against her neck as he reached past her and poured the powder, then twisted the paper.

"Toss it."

She threw it over the edge. It hit a rock from the rail bed and exploded. There was a certain excitement to the act but not as much as when he turned her to face him and his lips came down on hers in a hard, passionate kiss. She pressed herself into him and clutched his shirt as she parted her lips and invited his tongue in. Just as she leaned forward to taste his mouth with her own tongue, he released her. The warm, throbbing kiss ended.

"You and I could make a good team."

"Yes." Her breathing was ragged. Tides of unexpected warmth and excitement washed through her, reaching the far recesses of her body. He toyed with a strand of her hair that had blown loose.

He looked at her expectantly, but she didn't know what he expected. "It's grown suddenly cool out here. Let's go in." She turned. He tucked his papers and vial inside his pocket and followed her in.

They spoke little for the rest of the day. What was there to say? They were attracted to each other, and it was forbidden. She would go to her husband, he to his mine. But he would never be far from her thoughts. For the rest of her life she would carry the burden of their passion and everything would pale in comparison to it.

She retired to her sleeping berth. She undressed with the light on. She pulled off her camisole and lightly tossed it at her feet. She thought she heard Tonio curse from across the aisle and wondered what had upset him.

She grabbed her brush. Her breasts stood erect and tightly budded in the cool night air of the sleeping car as she brushed her hair using long strokes. She felt glad to be free from the confines of her clothes. All the rest of her life weighed down on her too heavily. Finally, she pulled her neatly folded nightgown from the end of the bed, calmly pulling it on. Fanning her hair, she lay back on her pillow and blew Tonio a kiss before turning out the light.

The curtains across the aisle rustled. She heard the rings slide across the rod, then the thump of feet hitting the floor. Her heart thumped a loud, patterned rhythm in her ears as she waited for her own curtains to be thrown back. She stiffened and braced in anticipation, wondering what it would be like to be in his arms, here in her own berth, with sleeping people surrounding them, locked in their own private cocoon. There was dead silence.

Then she heard the rings screech across the metal rod again. And the floor wheezed as weight was lifted from it. He'd swung back into his own bed. Deflated, she slumped against her pillow. The wild, urging tingles that had assaulted her private being disappeared.

The car was stiflingly quiet. Someone coughed. She felt like screaming. Then she heard the small click of a light switch. Tonio appeared in her ceiling, shirtless, the covers pulled to just below his navel. The reflection was so startlingly clear that she could see the individual, coarse, curling hairs that clouded his chest. His black eyes flamed with passion. She couldn't be mistaken. He was like a dark, lusty dream, real and yet, not. She blinked to make sure that she was not already dreaming.

Then he winked and clicked the light off. She was seeing Tonio reflected in her ceiling. He'd seen her undress, night after night. He'd seen her half naked. She should have been furious. She should have blushed. Instead, she reached up and gently stoked the polished wood where his image had been. Then she rolled over and punched the pillow, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep.