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  Fool’s Gold

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2013 by Cassandra Dean

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-438-6

  Cover art by Scott Carpenter

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  Rough Diamond, The Diamond Series – Book 1

  Fool’s Gold

  The Diamond Series – Book 2

  A Western Escape

  By

  Cassandra Dean

  ~Dedication~

  To my ladies – KM, KG, TT and TP

  You ladies have been with me through thick and thin, and through several incarnations of eating pants. Love you all to pieces, and I’m so glad you’re traveling with me on this caper.

  - CD

  Chapter One

  Freewill, Wyoming, 1879

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your lonesome, Miz Pearl?” Shrugging into her coat, the Diamond’s newest girl, Jasmine, gave her a concerned look.

  Smoothing the heavy wool over the girl’s shoulders, Pearl smiled. “Of course, dearie. You go on to the Houghton’s show and have a mighty time.” She arranged her smile to something different, becoming a sly sort of grin. “Maybe your Ryan will be there.”

  Jasmine blushed bright red. It did her heart good when a new girl settled in so quick—not in Freewill three months, and already she had a sweetheart.

  With cheeks still a fiery kind of red, Jasmine tucked a stray brown curl behind her ear. “I’m hopin’, Miz Pearl, but I’ll only go if you’re sure you’ll be all right. After all, it’s Christmas Eve.”

  “And no one should be alone?” Again a smile twitched at her lips. Hell, she would just about get a toothache from the girl’s sweetness. “Don’t fret, dearie, I’ll be fine. You go and enjoy the show, and make sure you get your Ryan to win you a trinket or two. But if the blizzard threatening turns vicious, you stay at Houghton’s, you hear? They got rooms and such, much as the Diamond does, and I don’t want you walking through weather gone bad.”

  “Yes, Miz Pearl. I’ll make sure and do that.” And, with a bob of a curtsey and a dazzling smile, Jasmine rushed from the Diamond.

  Shaking her head, Pearl locked the doors behind her and surveyed the silent Diamond. The saloon seemed cavernous empty of people, almost forlorn in the hush. On the far side, the doors to the Diamond Theater were closed, and the chairs and tables of the stalls had been stacked against the wall, the curtains on the stage drawn, and all the sets in storage.

  The last Spectacular had been nigh on three weeks ago, and the next wouldn’t be for another two months. Last year, she’d determined it were too much to ask folks to trudge into the winter muck lining the streets of Freewill, and she had no desire to put on a show that made it a hardship for people to attend. True it was the Spectacular brought all walks of life from near and far, and also true she loved performing, singing her heart out to the raucous appreciation of a crowded Diamond, but the winter months brought with them troubles she had a mind to avoid. Alice would have hated the idea, but then…Alice weren’t here.

  Wandering over to the bar, she ran her fingers through the tinsel hanging from the edge. This time of year, most folk had their families to consider, and while she could and did put on shows supporting the holiday, she weren’t going to do such on the day itself or the one preceding it. She deserved a break, and so did her staff. She wanted everyone—the barkeeps, the girls, and any other in the Diamond’s employ—to enjoy the holiday. As it were, the blizzard that threatened to blow in made it so only a particular kind of fool ventured into the streets of Freewill just for the chance to drink whiskey by their lonesome in an empty saloon with foul weather a-coming.

  Leaning against the bar, she looked over the floor. It might be she were alone, but she paid no mind to such a state. It weren’t often the Diamond was silent of any but herself, and she was going to treasure such a moment. Sure it were Christmas Eve, and she had no people to celebrate the holiday with, but she weren’t going to chain her staff to her side just so she could wish someone a happy Christmas. They had family, and they should spend their days with them.

  Tinsel caressing her fingers, a feeling almost as forlorn as the empty saloon coursed through her. The closest thing she had to a family resided in Paris, France, and didn’t seem set to return to Freewill for some time. From Alice’s last letter, it appeared her new theater, entitled with some frou-frou French name Pearl could never remember, had become something of a sensation, and the premiere of her upcoming stage show sat poised to set the grand city alight with a promising kind of blaze. This one she did know the name of—The Saloon Girl, based in part on Pearl’s own life. Or, she supposed it was. Judging by what Alice had told her of the show, it seemed mighty close to the path Pearl had trod. In any event, Christmas in Alice’s theater would be full of people and frivolity, laughter tumbling through the stalls. Added to the din would be the glee of Alice’s husband and son, and the joy of a family sharing the season.

  The only sound in the Diamond was the faint howl of the gathering storm.

  A sudden chill took her, though she knew the boiler to be working just fine. Wrapping her arms about herself, all she wanted was her bed. It might be mid-afternoon, but she could think of nothing better than winding herself in blankets and enjoying a whiskey while perusing the latest French catalogs Alice had sent her from Paris.

  Determinedly, she started for the stairs. Just as she set foot to the first step, a pounding started at the Diamond’s doors, so hard they shook.

  She whirled around, her heart in her throat. Christ almighty, but that was a fearsome sound. Loud enough to rattle her teeth, and forceful besides.

  The pounding began again, the doors trembling under the strength of the knock.

  Hell and tarnatio
n. She couldn’t leave the poor soul out there to freeze.

  “Hold yourself, I’m coming.” Resigning herself to the loss of alone time, she strode across the saloon’s floor. Reaching the door, she arranged a smile of welcome across her features, and unbolting the lock, she swung the door wide.

  Framed in the opening, his hat jammed tight on his head and the collar of his duster turned against the cold, stood Ethan Garrett.

  Her smile died. Out of all the population of Freewill, why did it have to be him?

  Formerly Alice’s coal surveyor and now employed by the concern who’d bought her out, Garrett seemed to think he could come by her saloon on an almost daily basis and bedevil the hell out of her. Always looking at her with a too-serious gaze, always saying her name all polite-like and pretending he didn’t think evil thoughts behind his quiet, grass-green eyes. She knew he felt a disdain for her, and though he were no better than he ought to be, he still seemed to look down upon her, as if she should feel shame for being who she was. She didn’t rightly know what it was she should feel shame about, and she never took the time to find out. She were a singer in the Diamond Theater’s World Famous Variety and Burlesque Spectacular, and the manager of the same along with its saloon. If Mr. Almighty Garrett wanted to look down his twice-broken nose at her, that was his business, and if he wanted to look all pretty with his grass-green eyes and blond hair, more luck to him. She certainly didn’t notice such, and it irritated her mightily when the Diamond’s girls sighed over his broad shoulders or fine behind. Not that she’d ever noticed. No, she’d only noticed how irritating he was, and how snide his expression.

  It didn’t mean, however, she couldn’t have her fun.

  Dropping her shoulder and cocking her hip, she leaned against the doorjamb and turned her smile to a particular kind of wicked. “Well now, if it ain’t Mr. Garrett, come all the way from his hovel on the outskirts of Freewill. How lucky I am to be graced with his oh-so-desirable presence.”

  He nodded his head politely in greeting. “Good afternoon, Miz Pearl.”

  Goddamn, but the soft, deep voice saying her name set her teeth on edge. “And a good afternoon to you, too. Although I have to ask, did you happen to see the sign hung just there to your left?”

  His gaze didn’t leave her. “I did see it, but I figured you wouldn’t mind if I tried your door anyway. The Diamond is reputed to service those in need.”

  Her smile turned a brittle shape, one that hurt her cheeks. “Ah, our reputation precedes us, no word of a lie. However, on this cold Christmas Eve, we might have to prove such a reputation a falsehood. There ain’t no one here but myself, and we wouldn’t be able to see to your comfort in the manner to which our customers have become accustomed.”

  “Be that as it may, I have a need for refreshment and some company.” Hunching against a blast of cold, he gave what most others would consider a friendly kind of smile. “I’ve got cash money to spend.”

  Arms still crossed, she contemplated him. Though he seemed to be giving it his damnedest, his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and something about the way he’d said her name had her wavering. An arctic gust shivering along her bones helped make her decision. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to lose what little heat I’ve coaxed from the boiler.”

  Entering the Diamond, he shook the snow from him as he removed his hat. Silent-like, she followed him, telling herself she didn’t notice how his shoulders filled the leather of the duster nicely, or how his tousled locks looked soft and mighty fine to the touch.

  Reaching the bar, he set the bedraggled hat upon the polished wood and raked his hands through the blond strands of his hair. Installing herself behind the counter, she reached for a bottle. “Whiskey?”

  “I…sure.” Accepting the glass from her, he placed it afore himself. “Why are you on your lonesome? A closed saloon don’t mean it’s unpopulated.”

  Crossing her arms, she frowned as he continued to stare at his whiskey instead of drinking it. Most men would have downed the shot in one gulp and held the glass out for another, but not Garrett, contrary man that he was. “Jasmine, Molly, and Simon have gone to Houghton’s for the Christmas display, but most of them that work here have returned to their homes. It’s Christmas Eve, or so most everyone sees fit to tell me. Is this why you pounded at the door, to discover the whereabouts of the Diamond’s employees?”

  “No.” Placing his hand on the bar, he framed the glass with the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

  Brows drawing together, her hands tightened on her upper arms when he still didn’t drink the whiskey. “Then why are you here?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “The whiskey?”

  “Which you aren’t drinking.” She unfolded her arms. “Delightful though I find our conversations, I have to confess a powerful need for my solitude. It’s best if you drink up and be on your way before the blizzard makes it impossible.”

  For the longest time, he contemplated his glass. Finally, he raised his gaze to hers. “Can I stay just a while longer?”

  She fought the urge to cross her arms again, this time for some kind of barrier between her and the…the…need in his green eyes. “I want to seek my bed. There’s no one in the Diamond, and I’m bone tired. For once, I’ve nothing to do and a hankering for it to stay that way.”

  “It’s just….” Abandoning the whiskey, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I have troubles, Miz Pearl.”

  Why wouldn’t he just go? Garrett acting peculiar weren’t something she were used to, and she didn’t like the unsettled feeling such peculiarity gave. Besides which, the way he’d pursed those fine lips of his gave her ideas, and it annoyed her mightily when such thoughts floated about her head. She didn’t want to know if those lips were as soft as they looked, damn it. “What does that have to do with me?”

  He exhaled. “Nothing, I guess. It’s only…I thought I’d hang around people for a spell.”

  A fool desire to ease him twinged at her, but she refused to allow such insanity any room to grow. Instead, she made a show of looking around the all-too-empty saloon. “And you thought you’d come to the Diamond? There’s no one here, Garrett.”

  Grass-green eyes rose to hers. “There’s you.”

  Something leaped in her chest, something she forced herself to pay no mind, just as she paid no mind to how pretty such eyes were in a too-handsome face. “And I was your first choice, was I?” Lord almighty, the derision in her words sounded harsh even to her.

  A kind of blankness fell over him, sudden-like. “I had nowhere else to go.”

  Why should she be feeling a tug at her heart just because he had nowhere to go?

  Squaring her shoulders, she lifted a brow and pretended her heart never reacted. “If it will get you to depart this here premises the quicker, why don’t you tell me all your troubles and we’ll see if we can’t fix one or two of them?”

  “I would be mighty grateful if you could. There don’t seem to be no other in all of Freewill who could attempt it.” He picked up his glass and hesitated. “Sit with me a while?”

  Cautious-like, and never removing her gaze from him, she made her way from behind the bar to seat herself at one of the Diamond’s tables.

  Garrett joined her, settling himself opposite and parking his hat left of his still-untouched whiskey. “Well now, I’ll see if I can’t sort this mess into a manner approaching some sense.” He stared down into the glass as if it possessed every answer he’d ever sought.

  Time passed. She contemplated the man sitting afore her. She’d always thought his face too pretty, even if he did have that twice-broken nose and cheekbones as sharp as razors. And she supposed the girls were right, his shoulders were broad and looked to be powerful, something she supposed again was desirous in a man. His neckerchief hid the skin of his throat, but she had occasion to know it was burnt golden by the sun, and she had a hankering it would taste awful nice–if one should be inclined to nibble on it. But she weren’t. Inclined.

&n
bsp; A thump started in her chest, one she felt too often when looking at him. But when she remembered his polite way of speaking to her—and only her—those feelings disappeared.

  Shifting, she reminded herself she didn’t want him in the Diamond, and something all-fired powerful must be rattling around his brain for him to be silent so long. Garrett always looked to be done with any discussion five minutes ago, and for him to be contemplating his glass and almost companionable in his silence…. Hell, something had to be not right.

  Just when she was thinking almost too much time had passed, he raised his contemplation and locked her gaze with his own. “My parents want me home for Christmas.”

  His…. He…. Seriously, that’s all? Perhaps it was she’d heard wrong.

  His gaze didn’t waver, and he said nothing more.

  “That’s it?” Incredulity made her voice almost a squeak.

  Something approaching a scowl knitted his brows together. Amazing. Emotion from the ever-calm Garrett. “You don’t know the particulars.”

  Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms. “Then why don’t you tell me?”

  Digging around in the inside of his duster, he produced a sheaf of paper. “Here.”

  She didn’t move. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  Yup, definitely a scowl, and it were a might one fine besides. “Read it, Miz Pearl.”

  Exhaling, she leaned forward and took the letter from him, for that clearly was what it was. Bereft of the paper, his fingers drummed rhythmically against the table, the kind of nervous tick she never would have associated with him.

  The pages looked to have been read many times, folded and folded again until the creases embedded deep. The paper was of good quality, the kind the rich men who frequented the theater back in Chicago had sent her when they were wanting to court her into warming their beds.