Feeling suddenly very tired, Silas stared across the shelter at Tao Ni who still slept, his small body making not much more than a big wrinkle in the Hudson's Bay blanket that Silas had tucked around him. These children needed more than he could give them. By rights he should send them to Hattie, to let her work her motherly magic on them. But she had her hands full, with Emmet being laid up. Besides, as soon as the thought occurred to him, Silas felt an instant resistance to it.

  There was something about these boys, especially Soomey...

  * * * *

  "I've got things to do, today. You two lay low while I'm gone."

  Soomey frowned. "'Lay low?' What is this?"

  "That means keep out of sight. No need to ask for trouble." He paused as Soomey poured the last of the coffee into his cup. "I'll be back by sundown."

  "You do not want us to work for you, Boss?" The boy sounded like a pup somebody had kicked.

  Silas closed his eyes and reached for patience. "Yes, Soomey, I want you to work for me. Just not now. Not yet." He wanted them to stay out of town for a while yet. No need asking for more trouble. It would be damned hard to play least in sight if he was always protecting these two.

  "When?" Soomey's chin was set. "We are not worth pay if 'lay low,' do nothing."

  Well hell! "O.K. Here's what you'll do. You and Tao Ni can watch my back trail, make sure nobody's following me." He didn't want a witness to his searches, especially if he should get lucky and find the cave right off. "If you see anybody--can you whistle?"

  "Whistle? I do not know that word."

  "Like this." Pursing his lips, Silas gave out with a good imitation of a bosun's pipe.

  Soomey imitated his expression and blew. All that came out was a faint, high-pitched tone.

  Silas showed him again, this time with fingers between his lips.

  Soomey's eyes widened. "How you do that?"

  Again he demonstrated. And yet again, as Soomey tried and failed to produce anything approaching a whistle. Silas resolutely suppressed his laughter at the puckered up face.

  Finally, his chin quivered as he said, "I am sorry, Boss. I cannot do this thing. Perhaps if I try more--"

  Instantly Silas was sorry. "Hey, Soomey, whistling's not important. You can do other things," he said heartily. "Lots of other things."

  "You are not angry?"

  "Of course not. Can Tao Ni whistle?"

  All this time the smaller boy had been sitting quietly against the wall, watching. Now he grinned widely. "I do." His whistle was complex, melodious--and loud.

  "Good lad," Silas said. "Soomey, can you explain to him what I want? Tell him to whistle like that if he sees anyone on my trail."

  Soomey gabbled to Tao Ni. His answering grin was ear-to-ear.

  * * * *

  All day she and Tao Ni followed Boss through the woods. He did not break off shards of rock as other prospectors did. His interest seemed to be greatest in the rounded outcrops that were like enormous Wei Qi stones tumbled together. Perhaps there was something Boss knew that other prospectors did not. He was a very smart man. Sometimes.

  Tonight she would tell him the truth. But how? What could she say?

  And would he be angry?

  No, he would not. What man would refuse a willing woman's services?

  After these few precious months of freedom, she must accept another master, something she had sworn never to do.

  How else could she bind Boss to herself and Tao Ni?

  Soomey cooked cornmeal that night, hoping to ensure that Boss's mood would be favorable. Tao Ni again refused to touch the doughy yellow bread, and so Soomey ate his portion, giving him her rice. When no food remained in his dish, she said, "We need more wood, little one. Will you gather some before it grows dark?"

  He scrambled to his feet, but she caught him before he could leave the shelter. "There are words I must have with Boss," she said in Cantonese. "Can you take a long time?"

  He agreed. In a moment he was slipping off into the shadowy woods. And Boss was there, relaxed against the rocks, his eyes pale in the firelight.

  Soomey knelt beside the fire and set water to boil for tea. If only she could read what was in his heart. He seemed a just man. He had bargained with her honorably, had not tried to cheat her as so many did the Chinese. His treatment of Tao Ni had been gentle and kind, surprisingly so, given that he was a man, and an American. Even when she had disobeyed him, he had not beaten her, although she knew his patience had been strained. His face showed no signs of dissipation, his body no softness.

  Best of all, he had shown that while he was quiet, he was neither weak nor conciliating with those who would take advantage of weakness. The Vester man, who was very powerful, had treated Boss with respect.

  Travel to Portland was out of the question until the passes opened in spring. While she might survive the journey in winter, Tao Ni almost certainly would not.

  Until the day Boss had saved them, she had not worried that she would be seen as a woman by the Americans. Didn't all Chinese look alike to them? But her shirt had ripped a little bit when the pole was dragged from her shoulder. What if it had torn open? The men would have seen that she was female, despite the band that bound her breasts.

  She and Tao Ni needed a protector--an American. None of the Chinese would accept responsibility for them, particularly knowing she was female, yet not available. If Li Ching had not forbidden it, the men she'd traveled with would have raped her without hesitation. Unfortunately, his power and prestige did not extend outside the Chinese community.

  Soomey looked at Boss from under her lashes, wondering if her assessment of his character was correct. Her life and Tao Ni's depended on it.

  She still had a few gold coins left from the sale of her beautiful clothes, but she doubted even a great fortune could buy this man's trust and loyalty. Despite her vow that she would never again be a man's toy, there was only one thing she had that Boss might value.

  So. She would not be a possession. What she would offer Boss in exchange for his protection would be freely given, not taken. The difference between him and Captain Watkins was that Boss would not own her.

  She sat back on her heels. "There is something you must know," she said, dropping the broken English she had hidden behind.

  He said nothing for a moment, just stared at her with speculation in his eyes. Finally he said, "Well?"

  Licking her lips, she said, "I am not what I seem. I speak good English. I can read and write. What you see..." She made a gesture that took in her black clothing, the rude shelter. "What you see is because I...because it was necessary for me to travel with other Chinese, until I reach Portland, find a job as houseboy." She paused. "You know barracoons in San Francisco?"

  "The cribs in Chinatown?" He nodded. "Yes, but...?"

  "I would be there by now, if I had not escaped," she said, willing him to understand.

  Was this her fate, to always warm an American's bed? At least this time, she reminded herself, it would be her own choice. "You go...went to whorehouse. You are a man. You need a woman."

  She bowed her head. "I am woman."

  Boss stared at her in the gloom of the shelter for long moments.

  "Well, hell!" he said at last.

  Chapter Four

  Pole-axed.

  Silas stared at Soomey. The little devil! She'd fooled him, sure enough.

  Damn! He rubbed his upper lip, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. Without Emmet, he really did need eyes and ears about town, and these Chinese kids had seemed perfect.

  "Boss?"

  She sat on her heels, head bent, a position he'd seen a hundred Chinese women assume--passive, obedient, patient. The queue, with its carefully shaved edge, looked incongruous, now that he knew she was a girl.

  Her head lifted and lowered quickly, like a little bird's, snatching at a seed. "You mad with me, Boss?"

  Sighing, he said, "No, I'm not mad with you, Soomey. It's just that, well, this changes everything."

  She looked up and almost smiled. "Yes, I know. Now I can take care of you. I have much experience."

  "Yeah, well, you can start by keeping quiet. I need to think." He leaned as far back against the rocky wall as he could, wriggling against a sharp edge that seemed determined to skewer him. Double damn.

  Snagging his saddlebags with one foot, Silas dragged them toward him. He dug around and pulled out his tobacco pouch and pipe. Soomey glanced at him as he stuck a splinter into the fire, wrinkled her nose as he applied it to the moist, fragrant tobacco. He raised his eyebrow, but she said nothing.

  He inhaled, tamping the tobacco down. A pipe was a handy thing. You could hide behind it while you thought. There was something about a man fussing with a pipe that inclined folks to patience.

  So what was he going to do with Soomey? She was his responsibility; he accepted that, albeit reluctantly. But he had to stay here in the Boise Basin until he achieved the goal that had brought him here. Gold camps were no places for a girl, be she Chinese or white. Or maybe especially be she Chinese.

  Maybe he would send her to Hattie, after all. Her and Tao Ni. Nobody was better at mothering than Hattie. And in the spring, he'd send her to Portland, if that's what she still wanted to do.

  She waited on her knees before him, outwardly patient.

  Her eyes were darkly mysterious. Wise. With not a hint of entreaty in their black depths. She would never beg. Not Soomey.

  Her lips were sweetly full, pouting. Ripe.

  Her body was slim and lithe. A child's body!

  He wanted her.

  Again he cursed, this time at himself. What kind of monster was he, feeling desire for a little girl? Why, she couldn't be a day over twelve. "You can't stay here," he said.

  "Why not? This was my place before I work for you."

  "I mean you can't stay in Bannock City. It's not safe."

  "I have been in worse places. No other miners know I am woman. And you will keep me safe."

  "Don't argue." A thought struck him. "How the dickens did you fool all those men you traveled with?"

  She shrugged. "I did not fool them. Li Ching was boss and he said I belonged to him. They did not bother me."

  That might have worked with the Celestials. Silas had long thought they were more civilized in some ways than his own countrymen. But if just one miner suspected...

  Even disguised as a boy, Soomey was in danger. A white girl might be left alone, as along as she behaved like a lady. A Chinese girl would be considered fair game by every horny miner in the basin.

  Soomey's disguise had worked simply because all Chinese looked the same to most Americans. Look how she'd fooled him, and he'd been trading in the Orient for years. So she might get away with it--a chance Silas wasn't willing to take.

  Her sex wasn't the only problem he foresaw. Prejudice against the Chinese was strong here. He didn't want her caught in the middle of the violence that was sure to break out sooner or later.

  Once more he retreated behind his pipe, watching her as he smoked. She stared back, and he could almost see the arguments pushing against her closed lips.

  How was he going to get her to Cherry Vale? He couldn't afford to take her. Winter was almost here, and once snow lay deep on the hillsides, he'd be forever finding the cave. She'd not go willingly, so he'd have to send her with someone he could depend on to deliver her safely to Hattie and Emmet.

  He didn't know a soul in this whole basin he'd trust.

  Caught between a rock and a hard place, and hating to capitulate, Silas said, "All right. You can stay. But only if you promise you won't set foot in either the Chinese settlement or Bannock City without me."

  For a long moment she regarded him suspiciously. At last she nodded. "But you will not leave me behind when you go to town. I will not stay in this cave."

  "You'll do as you're told, damn it!"

  Her long lashes fanned across her cheek as she bowed her head in agreement. "You are Boss."

  Tao Ni returned just then, much to Soomey's relief. She did not want to argue with Boss. He was being very foolish, and very stubborn. Tomorrow she would convince him that she would be much better able to guard him with no restrictions on her movements.

  He would be in a far better mood in the morning. She would see to that.

  When Boss stepped out of the shelter, Soomey prepared their beds. Earlier she had gathered fresh branches to spread under his blankets, first smoothing the ground beneath and making sure there were no rocks to give him discomfort. Tao Ni was snuggled into his warm blanket and asleep before Boss returned.

  She lit a candle, enjoying its steady light. The nights she and Tao Ni had slept here, they had nothing to relieve the dark, except for the fire, which they had kept small and inconspicuous.

  With unsteady hands, she set water to heat for tea, using a few shreds of her precious store to steep a single cup. Boss would need the strength it would give him.

  At last all was prepared. She sat back upon her heels, fed the fire just enough to keep it alive, and waited.

  Her heart beat faster as she contemplated the night ahead. Captain Watkins had sometimes been kind, in his own way, but Captain Slye had not. He had caused her great pain, then had beat her when she wept.

  Soomey had learned her lesson well, and had not wept since.

  The one unbreakable vow she had made to herself was never to submit to one like Captain Slye again, but that did not worry her tonight. She believed Boss would be kind.

  But would she please him?

  At last he returned, smelling of rain and tobacco.

  "Your tea is ready," she said, pouring it into his tin cup.

  He crouched down against the wall and sipped. She watched him, speculating about how his big hands would feel against her skin. They were the callused hands of a man who knew the meaning of labor. But he had been gentle as he stroked Tao Ni, so perhaps he would not hurt her.

  "Aren't you having any?"

  "Perhaps a little," she said. Something stirred in Soomey's midsection, as if a thousand bees swarmed. Silently she accepted the cup when he handed it to her. Sipped, but found she could not swallow. She caught up the rag she'd used to protect her hands from the skillet's heat and spat the tea into it.

  "Your bed is ready."

  "Thanks." He stood, hunched over beneath the cloth that kept out the rain. Quickly he removed his coat and folded it, slipped his suspenders down, to hang alongside his legs. Then he sat on the blankets and removed his boots. When his feet were bare, he looked across at her. "Blow out the candle."

  Soomey did so. And waited, listening to the rustle of his clothing, the soft rasp of his wool pants against his legs. She knew when he slipped between the blankets, heard his soft mutters as he settled into place.

  She gathered her courage, jumped when his voice came out of the dark.

  "You going to bed or not?"

  "Yes...I will...please, just one while." She slipped into the night, took care of her personal needs. At the doorway to their makeshift home, she paused, taking several deep breaths.

  She was a free woman, she told herself. This was her choice. Boss was a decent, honest man who would not seek to own her. And there was nothing he would do...could do to her that had not been done before.

  With that thought firmly in mind, Soomey stepped inside. Quickly she loosened her queue, once again regretting the loss of so much of her hair. Captain Watkins had often told her it reminded him of the finest silk. She removed her shirt and trousers, thinking that she must wash them.

  Tomorrow.

  When she unwound the band that bound her breasts, she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps she would not need to wear it again.

  Naked, covered with goose pimples that were not due to the chill in the air, she slipped into Boss' bed.

  Silas dreamt of womanly texture, sleek and silky, fragrant with the scent of exotic flowers. His fingers touched breasts white as snow, his hands cradled their richness, as nipples flowered against his palms.

  Her fingers danced across his unshaven cheek, lightly, quickly, delicate as the kiss of a moth's wing. Her hands explored his chest, smoothed across his belly, found his already straining manhood and traced erotic patterns from base to tip.

  He woke, aching and hard.

  And it was no dream.

  Her hot mouth was on him. Her tongue licked his belly button, her teeth delicately teased the head of his shaft, before he realized who she was.

  "Get out!"

  Her hands clung, even as she cried out in surprise and pain.

  "What the hell is going on?" He pushed her entirely away from him, held her until she no longer resisted. Groping in his pack, he found the matches. His hand was shaking so much that it took him three tries to get one lit.

  God! He'd been on the verge of taking her, of mindlessly slamming into her like any rutting beast.

  "Candle."

  She stretched for it, handed it to him. Silas lit it and wedged it between two rocks.

  Soomey sat in the dirt, huddled into herself. She was naked, her long hair falling across her shoulders and almost to the ground. Pale golden skin gleamed in the flickering light. Her body was taut and the knuckles of her hands, where they were clasped around her knees, were white.

  She was so small!

  Silas forced himself to relax, willed the remains of lust away. His anger was less easy to control. It boiled just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm his better sense.

  "Suppose you," he said, when at last he felt his voice steady, "tell me just what the hell you thought you were doing."

  "I already tell...told you. I can take care of you. No need you go to whorehouse."

  He was speechless.

  "I have much experience," she said, her voice quavering a little. "I can shave you, bathe you. I cook good, will even learn to cook the cornmeal, no matter how bad it tastes. I am hard worker, can do laundry, dig gravel. Even work rocker. I say I do not dig, but I will, for you."

  She looked up, peering between two strands of that long, black hair. "I am clean, Boss. No sickness. And I can do what you want. Anything."

  Still unable to find words, Silas glared at her. She moved and the silken fall of her hair flowed across her shoulder and back, revealing the sweet upper curve of a breast. He closed his eyes, groped for the shirt he was using for a pillow.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31