How Kisses Could Lie
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“You’re a pretty good kisser, Miss Grace.”
Grace’s heart pounded. She was in the midst of her first kiss and it felt like she’d been kissed before but not by this man who had his hands on either side of hers as he pressed closer to her face with each movement from their lips.
His mouth tasted different than other men’s mouths usually did because they didn’t know how to use much spit or tongue at all when kissing so that made him seem more experienced somehow…or maybe just better-tasting.
The longer he held her close against his body, pressing his chest into her backside through the thin fabric between them, making contact even though neither one wanted to be naked yet, the harder it became for Grace to think clearly about anything except what was happening right now—the feel of his warm breath across her cheek; the pressure of his lips and teeth where no woman ever touched another unless there were clothes involved; those strong arms holding both sides of her head firmly while he devoured every inch of skin below her chin.
And then suddenly, without warning, he pushed away abruptly and stepped back several feet until only inches separated them again. He looked down at her expectantly, waiting for an answer to some question she hadn’t heard because she’d lost track of time during their passionate encounter.
“I’m sorry?” Was that really her voice? Or someone else’s throaty whisper echoing off the walls around them?
He laughed softly. It sounded sexy coming out of such a handsome man. But still, she couldn’t quite believe herself capable of talking after having spent three hours locked up inside her own mind trying desperately to remember something important that would help her catch the killer.
Her stomach growled loudly enough for him to hear the music playing nearby. Still smiling at her, Mark reached beneath his jacket pocket and pulled out two slices of bread wrapped tightly in waxed paper. One loaf of white sliced bread went into his coat pocket along with the other slice. Then he handed her the second loaf. “Here you go,” he said quietly.
She accepted the bread gratefully, wondering if he was going to eat any himself since there wasn’t anyone else here eating dinner tonight. No doubt he could afford whatever food he desired. In fact, everything about him seemed larger than life: his height, weight, muscles, and strength; his broad shoulders stretching the sleeves of his shirt; his dark hair cut short; and most definitely his eyes which burned brightly under the lamplight shining through the window behind them.
They reminded her of a pair of blacksmiths’ tongs glowing red hot with intense heat ready to hammer out sparks. Yet despite this obvious danger lurking within these mesmerizing depths, she found herself wanting to stare into them forever. How strange that such a dangerous person should make her feel safe.
Even when their bodies came together in that brief moment, almost like it happened accidentally, she never once feared being hurt. Why wouldn’t he want to kill her? What kind of monster could have such power over women?
The thought made her shiver involuntarily. Not because she was afraid of dying alone in a stranger’s bed. That fear belonged to someone else entirely. This was nothing more than an impulsive act brought on by desperation. Nothing less. Absolutely nothing more.
But why did it matter anyway? If he wanted to murder her, all he needed to do was slip out the front door instead of leaving through a rear entrance so easily accessible to everyone. So why leave the way he did? Did it mean that he truly cared for her as well?
After all, this was obviously the only place he knew of to meet women. There certainly weren’t many places left open to single ladies in town. All the saloons closed early. Most people stopped dancing long before midnight. Some couples shared kisses during slow dances but rarely anywhere near private areas.
A few married women might sneak off to the hotel room upstairs next to the dance hall, but not often. Those rooms were reserved mostly for traveling salesmen and railroad workers. Women generally preferred to rent small houses or apartments above shops on Main Street or on the edge of town outside the city limits.
When she asked the owner of the boardinghouse where she stayed whether there were any eligible bachelors living nearby, he told her there were none. She’d wondered aloud if that meant he was gay. He chuckled. “No ma’am. I’ve lived here my entire life and can count the number of unmarried men among our population on one hand.
You’ll find plenty of bachelor farmers nearby, but they don’t come looking for wives in town anymore.”
So what was she doing here? Because of a stupid bet? Before he arrived tonight, there hadn’t been any reason for her to stay awake past ten o’clock. Tonight, however, she couldn’t sleep well unless she figured out exactly who killed Mr. DeWitt.
And now that she had discovered his identity, she didn’t know how to proceed further. The only thing she knew for sure was that whoever murdered him also planned to steal the money from the bank. Otherwise, why bother killing him? Wouldn’t it be easier just to rob the bank itself?
She took another bite of bread, chewing slowly while staring blankly ahead. “You’re right,” she finally answered. “Whoever killed him is probably already gone by now. We won’t get much information out of Miss Coonan tomorrow morning since we missed yesterday’s meeting.”
“What?” Mark exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’m sorry, Maureen. Really! Forgive me!”
His apology surprised her. Wasn’t he supposed to hate her after learning that she was actually working undercover? Instead, he looked genuinely remorseful. His expression softened until she felt compelled to reach across and touch his hand. “It’s okay. Besides, I think you saved us both some trouble.”
As soon as she placed her fingers against his palm, he jerked away. As quickly as he removed his hands from hers, he turned toward her again and gripped the table between them. “I shouldn’t have done anything without asking your permission first. It makes me look foolish—and worse yet, unprofessional.”
He sounded sincere enough. But then why would he ask her forgiveness? Everything about him screamed danger. Her gut reaction was to say no, but something kept holding her back. Something deep inside her whispered otherwise.
Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe she simply wished to see what other surprises lay hidden beneath those tawny brown eyes. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let it deter her from finding answers.
And besides, she had a feeling that this man was capable of protecting himself. Unlike others she met at the bank, he acted as though he knew very little about banking, trusts and investments. In fact, he even admitted that he hated numbers and math.
That made him sound like a simpleton compared to the other bankers she interviewed today. Still, he must have shown up prepared for the interview since he wore a suit rather than his usual work clothes. Had he hired a tailor to help him dress appropriately for the occasion?
How did he manage to keep such expensive clothing clean when he worked outdoors most days? Surely, he could afford to hire someone to wash his shirts every week. No wonder he seemed so uncomfortable around rich people with their fancy hats and fine suits. They were completely different worlds apart.
After telling Mark that she appreciated his concern, she returned to the subject at hand. “Miss Coonan will probably want to speak to me privately tomorrow afternoon. Why don’t you go home and rest while I talk to her alone?”
***
Mark ran down the street, dodging horse-drawn wagons and clattering carriages carrying passengers. Up ahead stood the boardinghouse where he’d spent the night. Not wanting anyone else to overhear what they discussed, he knocked loudly on the wooden door.
Since she apparently slept in an attic apartment over the main floor, it wouldn’t surprise him if she didn’t hear his knock. He tried calling her name several times but received no answer despite the loud creaking sounds coming from within. Finally, he pounded harder and waited patiently, hoping she might open the door before long.
A few minutes later, she opened the door wearing nothing more than a thin cotton robe. A shawl covered her head, shielding her face from view. “Who are you?” she demanded.
That’s not surprising. What kind of woman sleeps in a place like this?
Even dressed in black, she still managed to stand out under the bright light of day. Dark hair fell loosely about her shoulders and framed an oval face with large dark eyes and full lips. She looked young but definitely old enough to be married.
Yet, judging by her appearance, she obviously preferred men instead of women. Just looking at her sent chills racing through his body. With one glance, all thoughts of sleeping anywhere except his own bed vanished. If he stayed any longer, he feared he would end up taking advantage of her hospitality.
The way she stared at him, he wondered whether she realized whom she really talked to last night or cared at all. At least she had changed into proper attire instead of going barefoot and wrapped in a blanket. The only thing missing was her hat.
“We need to talk,” he said firmly. “Please come outside.”
With a nod, she grabbed her shawl and followed him onto the porch. Once there, he closed the front door behind him. All three of them remained silent while standing near the steps leading to the sidewalk.
“Where do you live?” he asked quietly.
Her gaze drifted past him, staring at the house next door. “In the attic above the kitchen.”
She lived in the attic! And how many rooms did she have to share with others? Clearly, she couldn’t afford to rent a separate room. Although she hadn’t mentioned it, he assumed she also shared meals with the family downstairs.
Why did she choose this particular boardinghouse? Did she feel safe here because everyone knew each other well enough to watch out for suspicious characters who came knocking late at night? Or perhaps she chose it precisely because the owner was a widow whose husband died years ago.
It certainly explained why Miss Coonan never bothered to mention that she owned the building. Instead, she merely told Mark that she rented two apartments upstairs.
How much money does she make renting these places? Could she possibly pay off her mortgage soon? Was she planning to sell the property once she paid off the loan? Would she ever consider selling it?
Like most banks, hers was located downtown, which meant she needed to buy groceries, send children to school and attend church services regularly. Even after paying taxes on the buildings, she’d surely save plenty of cash in comparison to the wealthy families living in the suburbs.
But then again, the banker across the street had four sons and five daughters, including twins. Maybe she felt outnumbered.
At least Mark now understood why she rarely left the boardinghouse during the daytime. Despite its reputation, the boardinghouse wasn’t exactly the safest place to stay overnight. Besides, having too many guests in the same building would attract unwanted attention.
For instance, the previous owners used to invite strangers over for dinner occasionally and sometimes invited boarders to sleep in their spare bedrooms until they found permanent lodgings elsewhere.
He turned toward her. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you anymore.”
As expected, she gasped. Her eyes widened as though she just remembered something important. Then she quickly stepped closer to him. “You’re right. You shouldn’t get involved. This is none of your business.”
His mouth went dry when she reached around, cupped his cheek, and pressed her warm lips against his. His heart raced wildly but refused to beat faster. There were so many reasons why he should stop this. After all, he already promised himself he wouldn’t take advantage of her. Still, he kept kissing her back, letting her know without words that she could depend on him.
When they finally broke apart, he smiled. “What are friends for?”
For a moment, her expression softened. Then, she pulled away. “It doesn’t matter. Let me show you out.”
They walked along the sidewalk, passing numerous stores and shops. As usual, people stopped to stare at them. Some nodded politely; others gave him dirty looks. He ignored both and focused solely on her.
When they crossed the street, he paused before turning down the alleyway between houses. No doubt, the neighbors watched from their windows. How long will we keep walking like this? Will anyone bother us if they see what happens next?
Without warning, he took hold of her hand and led her deeper into the narrow lane, where no one else dared venture. Soon, they stood beneath a tree hidden behind another row of homes. A few feet ahead lay an empty lot surrounded by trees and bushes. In some ways, it resembled the forest surrounding a cemetery, yet it didn’t look creepy. Perhaps it was because there weren’t any gravestones nearby.
“Here,” he whispered, pulling her close. She let go of his hands and leaned against him. They stayed frozen together for several moments. Only silence filled the air, broken only by birdsong and wind rustling through leaves overhead.
Then, he kissed her again. At first, she resisted. So did he. Neither wanted to rush things. Yet eventually, desire overcame caution. With quick movements, they pushed aside clothing, stripped bare skin, and touched flesh. The kiss grew more heated, hotter than anything either had experienced. When they finally parted, breathless, he stared deeply into her dark brown eyes.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly.
A smile spread across her face. “More than okay!”
Neither spoke or moved for a time. Finally, he lifted his head to find her gazing up at him. Their gazes locked, neither wanting to break free. Without speaking, they continued making love under the shade of the tree, lost in each other’s arms.
***
The following morning, Mark rode out alone while Kate remained inside the boardinghouse. That afternoon, he returned to town. By evening, he decided to check on her, riding down the alleyway near the front entrance. He slowed his horse, expecting to hear familiar voices coming from the second floor.
Instead, he heard laughter drifting from the backyard. Looking beyond the fence, he saw two men sitting outside with beers in hand. One man wore jeans and a white shirt, while the other sported overalls and suspenders. Both looked middle-aged. Not quite old enough to be considered respectable citizens, but not young enough to fit in with the younger crowd.
Mark wondered how many times he’d seen them drinking beer on the porch since arriving here last year. Were they always drunk? Or were they simply enjoying themselves after work? Either way, they reminded him of Sam.
And, although he couldn’t say precisely why, he felt uncomfortable seeing them. It made him wonder about the entire community. Was everyone who lived in this area really honest and trustworthy? Did every single person have good intentions toward him and his family? Would they do everything possible to protect him and his wife?
With these thoughts swirling around in his mind, he dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post. Before leaving, he glanced once more toward the house. No doubt, Kate would return soon. But, unlike yesterday, he wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or bad.
If nothing else, perhaps her presence meant that she trusted him now. More likely, however, she might worry less about being discovered. Maybe then, he could ask questions without worrying that someone would overhear.
After checking to make certain no one was watching, he hurried off, hoping to catch the three men before they left. He found them standing beside the pickup truck parked behind the garage. All four turned when he approached.
For a brief instant, he thought he recognized one of the faces. Could it be one of those who helped bring him home after the fire? Had he been responsible for bringing the charred remains of his parents’ bodies to the funeral parlor?
He shook his head. This man certainly couldn’t be the same as the worker who brought him food and water during his recovery period. Probably just a coincidence.
As he drew closer, the man pointed to his friend. “This is my brother.” Then, he introduced himself. His name sounded vaguely familiar: William. “I’m Tom,” said the third man.
William stepped forward and offered his hand. The moment he clasped it, Mark realized something important. These men knew him! Actually, they seemed excited to meet him.
“You’re the new deputy marshal,” Tom announced proudly.
How strange. Why should these three know anything about me? What are you doing here anyway? I never expected to run into you, much less your friends.
Before he could respond, another voice interrupted. “Deputy Marshal Henderson. Is there trouble in Tuscaloosa County?”
Both brothers stopped talking and turned their attention to the newcomer. As he got nearer, Mark noticed something odd. Something different…something unsettling. In fact, he didn’t like what he saw.
Tom frowned. “What makes you think we’ve come all this way because of any kind of trouble?”
“Meaning?”
Without warning, Mark swung his fist. With lightning speed, Tom ducked and grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back. “Watch yourself, boy!”
But Mark was too angry to listen. Fuming, he shoved away from the older man. A few steps later, he charged past the others and pulled open the passenger door. Inside, he spotted a small bag.
Grabbing it, he climbed over the seat, reached through the window, and slammed the car door shut. Then, he jumped down and ran to the rear bumper where his horse waited patiently beneath an oak tree.
When he mounted the horse, he sensed eyes upon him. Turning his gaze, he caught sight of both men staring at him. They hadn’t even tried to stop him from stealing the bag. Now, he understood exactly why he had such strong feelings against these people.
Because they weren’t honest and trustworthy. They lied and stole. So, if they worked hard to help him get started in law enforcement so they could avoid paying taxes owed to the state government—well, that only proved how dishonest they truly were.
***
Kate’s first step inside the ranch house made her feel as though she’d returned home. She loved the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting up from downstairs. That alone told her that things were normal again. Nothing out of place. Everything is neat and tidy. Ben wouldn’t allow anyone to live in squalor. Not while he was alive, not afterward.
She smiled with satisfaction. Somehow, she’d managed to keep the secret hidden from Mark. Surely, he must realize by now that she was gone most of each day. It was obvious enough since he spent almost every night sleeping on the couch next to the fireplace.
Even so, he apparently believed she was still working undercover. And, judging by his occasional comments about having lunch together, he probably assumed she would tell him everything eventually.
Yet, despite his lack of trust, he also appeared genuinely happy to see her. How did he do it? Was it simply because he cared about her? Or was he trying to convince everyone that he was satisfied with life? Either way, he definitely had some explaining to do. If nothing else, it might explain why he wasn’t spending more time in town.
The front door opened and Kate heard someone call out, “Hello.”
Turning around, she looked toward the hallway leading to the kitchen. Her smile faded when she saw Mark approaching. At least he wore his gun belt. But somehow, he didn’t look quite right to her. There was a peculiar expression on his face. An air of uncertainty. Almost as if he feared something terrible was going to happen.
His eyes met hers, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked directly ahead and disappeared behind the swinging doors. He headed for the dining room table. Without looking back, he sat across from her.
Then, without waiting, he asked, “Have you seen Willy lately?”
That surprised her. Where could he have gotten a nickname like that? “No,” she answered honestly. “Why?”
“We haven’t spoken to him or his brother since yesterday morning. My guess is, they went hunting.”
He glanced briefly at the newspaper lying beside his plate. “Do you mind if I read the paper?”
After taking one last bite of toast, she set aside her knife and fork. “Go ahead.”
Mark picked up the newspaper and began reading aloud. “‘Shooting Death Leaves Two Dead’…”
Her stomach knotted. “Who died?” she whispered under her breath.
In response, he paused and lowered the paper. When no answer came from her, he continued. “…and two wounded.”
A chill swept through her body. The article stated that the shooting happened early Sunday afternoon near the river. While walking along the bank, the three men stumbled upon a dead bear. After climbing down into the water to retrieve the carcass, the men soon discovered that their guns had been stolen.
One of them fired off several shots in search of the thieves. Unfortunately, none of those bullets hit their mark. By then, the other two men were already running away. Fortunately, Deputy Marshal Henderson arrived just minutes after the gunshots rang out.
Since there were no witnesses willing to testify, the marshal couldn’t arrest either suspect. However, he issued warrants for the men’s arrests and instructed all deputies throughout Colorado Territory to be on the lookout for them.
Forcing herself to swallow, Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening her lids again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “They’re your friends.”
Mark nodded slowly, his expression grim. Then he turned to her and asked, “What are we doing here this morning?”
So, he knew about her meeting with Ned. Yet, he seemed to accept it without any further comment. What did that mean? Did he think she should’ve revealed what she planned to do sooner than today? Or, perhaps, he thought it was best left unsaid until after she got the information she needed.
Sitting straight up, she cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak calmly. “You know, I spoke with Chief McFarland yesterday evening.”
Surprise registered on his handsome features. “Did you?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, it won’t take long. We’ll only need an hour or two.”
“How many people will come?” he wondered.
With a nod, she replied, “At least ten.”
“And how many of these men work for Mr. Larkin?”
Understanding the question, she hesitated too long before answering. So much depended on whether anyone would actually show up. In order to get answers, she had to make sure the meeting went well—before revealing her true identity.
For now, she’d keep everything hidden unless absolutely necessary. She didn’t want to risk being recognized by someone who worked for the railroad company. It wouldn’t help matters if word spread that she was a woman pretending to be a man. That would cause even more problems later.
She sighed inwardly. Would the chief really agree to meet with so few men? And if not, what other options did she have? Couldn’t she convince John to return home instead? Surely, he hadn’t gone far…
But that wasn’t possible. Not yet. If she wanted to learn why the train stopped in town yesterday, she had to find out herself.
Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. “Chief McFarland has agreed to see us. As I told you earlier, he says the union wants to negotiate a new contract.”
“Sounds promising,” he murmured.
Kate smiled wryly. How often did such meetings go smoothly? Most likely, nothing good would happen. But, as always, she hoped for the unexpected. With luck, maybe she could surprise everyone, including herself. Her thoughts drifted toward the shooting victims she saw every day.
They weren’t going to recover anytime soon. Perhaps, some of the surviving miners might volunteer to join her in the mine. At the very least, they could lend moral support while she talked to the chief. Maybe, she’d also be able to persuade the sheriff and deputy marshal to attend.
It was time to stop worrying about things that may never materialize. Instead, she decided to concentrate on getting ready for the meeting. First, she washed the dishes, put away the food, and wiped down the table.
Next, she dressed carefully in a tailored suit of dark gray wool. A white shirt and black tie completed the ensemble. Finally, she combed her hair back neatly, pinned it behind her ears, and applied lipstick.
As Mark finished washing the breakfast plates, she rose to leave the room. He moved quickly to block her way. “Where are you going?”
“To change my clothes.”
He shook his head. “We can’t both wear suits.”
The idea made her smile. “No, we shouldn’t. You’ll look like a dandy compared to me.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts, which pressed against the tight fabric. His lips parted slightly, drawing attention to his full lower lip. Without warning, he reached out and lifted one side of her dress. The action caused him to brush her breast lightly with his hand.
Instantly, heat rushed through her body. When he lowered his arm, she felt dizzy from desire. Catching her bottom, he pulled her closer, then kissed her softly between her brows.
Her heart pounded wildly. After taking another deep breath to steady herself, she stepped free of his embrace. “Let’s hurry. There isn’t much time.”
In fact, there wasn’t enough. By noon, when Ned arrived at the house, she had no doubt he’d tell Tom about their plans. Worse still, he might already suspect something. She couldn’t afford to wait around all afternoon, hoping that Ned would arrive alone.
Nor could she ask Mark to accompany her into the mines. To avoid suspicion, she would have to go in first. Then, she and Mark would follow once the meeting began.
While she waited for Mark to finish dressing, she paced the floor. Outside, rain poured down in sheets; thunder rumbled overhead. Some of those storms were fierce, and she prayed they wouldn’t hit during the meeting.
Yet, if lightning struck close to the mine, it could prove deadly. Lightning killed more than five hundred Americans each year, according to statistics published last month. On top of that, there was always the chance of flooding. Heavy rains could wash away the tracks causing the next day’s train to become stranded.
After waiting fifteen minutes, Kate left the bedroom and hurried downstairs. Overhead lights illuminated the main level, while lamps lit the stairwell leading upstairs. Stepping outside onto the porch, she glanced over her shoulder just in case.
No sign of the chief. Or anyone else. It seemed too quiet. Too peaceful. What if someone snuck up here before the meeting started? Just thinking about being caught by an enemy sent shivers racing along her spine. That probably explained why Ned didn’t come alone. He must’ve brought a couple of deputies to keep watch.
A faint light appeared below. Was it coming from the kitchen door? She stared silently, unable to move or speak. Did Ned know where she stood now? Would he send two men after her instead of just one?
Forcing herself not to panic, she took several slow breaths until her heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared. Moving slowly, she descended the stairs and approached the front door. Opening the screen, she peeked inside but again found only darkness.
She returned to the porch and sat down on the steps. Before long, the storm clouds broke apart, revealing bright sunshine. But, she noticed with dread, that the temperature remained cool. Cold winds blew across the mountainside, sending waterfalls cascading down granite walls and filling gullies with muddy brown streams.
If this weather continued through tomorrow night, many people would freeze to death. She should feel sorry for them. Instead, she worried about what kind of reception she’d receive. And whether Ned and the others planned to kill her tonight.
Before leaving home, she asked Mark to drive the wagon to town so she could leave immediately afterward. As usual, he refused without explanation. Now, she understood. He wanted her car keys. So, if anything went wrong—if she got hurt, arrested, or even shot —he could get rid of the evidence.
When the clock chimed ten o’clock, she heard footsteps approaching. Seconds later, Ned entered the house carrying his rifle. Behind him followed Tom, who carried a lantern. Both men wore heavy coats. Their faces showed signs of fatigue as did their clothing.
They stopped short, staring at her, obviously surprised to see her sitting on the step. Though they looked grim, neither man said a word.
Tom spoke first. “You’re late.”
Nodding, Ned replied, “I’m sorry. We lost track of time.”
Kate rose to her feet. “What happened?”
Both men exchanged glances. Then Ned answered: “There was some trouble.”
The End