Twin of Fire Read online

  Both guards stared up at her. There was something quite intimidating about a six-foot-tall woman atop a seventeen-hand-high black stallion that was prancing so high its ironclad hoofs showed. Even though they were separated from the animal by a heavy wooden gate, the men stepped back when the horse jerked its head and did a half turn.

  “Did you hear me? Open the gate.”

  “Now, wait a minute—,” one of the guards began.

  The other guard punched him in the ribs. “Sure thing, Miss Fenton,” he said, as he pulled aside the gate for her, then jumped back as she went charging through.

  “The mine owner’s daughter,” the guard was explaining behind her.

  Pamela rode directly to the entrance of the mine shaft, the horse’s hoofs kicking up a cloud of coal dust. “I want to see Rafferty Taggert,” she said, holding the horse on a tight rein, its eyes rolling wildly. “Where is he?”

  “On shift,” someone said. “Tunnel number six.”

  “Then bring him up. I want to see him.”

  “Now, see here—,” a man said, stepping forward.

  Another man, older, pushed his way toward the nervous horse. “Good mornin’, Miss Fenton. Taggert’s below, but I’m sure that, for you, someone can bring him up.”

  “Do that,” she said, with a hard pull on the reins to further assert her dominance over the big animal. With a curled lip, she looked about the coal camp, at the dirt, the poverty. When she was a child, her father had insisted she accompany him to this place, to show her where their wealth came from. Pam had looked at everything and said, “I think we’re poor.”

  The place still disgusted her. “Saddle a horse for him and have it waiting. I’ll meet him by the bend in Fisherman’s Creek.” She had to wait while the stallion made a full turn before she could look at the mine supervisor. “And if he’s docked even a penny, you’ll hear about it.” With that, she let the horse have its head and tore back through the camp, cinders flying behind her.

  She didn’t have to wait long for Rafe. The name of Fenton might have evil connotations for some people but those who worked for Fenton Coal and Iron jumped when a Fenton spoke.

  Rafe sat on a mangy horse much too small for his big body. His face and clothes were black with coal dust, but the whites of his eyes showed his anger. “Whatever you want takes first place, doesn’t it? Princess Fenton gets whatever she demands,” he said as he dismounted, looking her squarely in the eyes.

  “I don’t like that place.”

  “Nobody does, it’s just that some of us have to earn a livin’.”

  “I didn’t come to fight you. I have something important to tell you. Here.” She handed him a bar of soap and a wash cloth. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve seen coal dust before.”

  With one more glare at her, he took the soap and cloth, knelt by the stream and began to lather his face and hands. “All right, tell me why you want me.”

  Pam sat down on a flat rock, stretching her long legs toward him. Her tall, hard, black hat made her seem even taller than she was, but the little black veil gave her face a look of mystery and femininity.

  “When I was seven years old, my father lost the duplicate key to his private desk drawer. I found it and put it in my treasure box. When I was twelve, I discovered what the key opened.”

  “And you’ve been spying ever since.”

  “I keep myself informed.”

  He waited, but she said nothing else. When he turned, his face clean, she handed him a towel. “So what have you found out?”

  “My father hired Pinkerton men months ago to find out who’s bringing unionists into the coal camps.”

  Rafe took his time drying his forearms. They were muscled from years of wielding a sledgehammer. “So, what have your Pinkertons found?”

  “Not my Pinkertons, my father’s.” She picked a flower of Queen Anne’s lace from beside her and toyed with it. “First of all, they found that four young women of Chandler, all from prominent families, are disguising themselves as old women and bringing illegal goods into the camp. Illegal being anything that my father doesn’t make a profit on.” She looked up at him. “One of the women is your nephew’s new wife.”

  “Houston? That fragile little…” He drifted off. “Does Kane know?”

  “I doubt it, but then I’d have no way of knowing, would I?” She watched him intently. When both she and Kane had been quite young, they’d had an affair that they’d thought was their secret love, but in truth had been the hottest gossip of the town. When she’d met Kane’s Uncle Rafe, weeks ago at the twins’ wedding, he’d seemed to her to have all the characteristics of Kane that she’d liked, but Rafe also had a gentle side that she’d never seen in the younger man. For days after the wedding, she’d hoped he’d call her or send her a note, but he’d made no effort to contact her. The damned Taggert pride! she’d cursed. And it made her wonder why a man like Rafe worked in a coal mine. There had to be a reason why. He wasn’t married, wasn’t under the burden of a family to support.

  “Why do you stay here?” she asked. “Why do you put up with that?” She nodded toward the road that led up to the mine.

  Rafe took a rock in his hand and tossed it, looking out over the little stream. “My brothers were here and Sherwin was dying. He had a wife and daughter to feed and wouldn’t take help from me or anyone else.”

  “Taggert pride,” she murmured.

  “I went to your father and agreed to work if he’d give my salary to Sherwin. Your father likes to have Taggerts grovelling for his money.”

  She ignored his last remark. “That way, Sherwin kept his pride and you got to help your brother. What did you get out of it besides a permanent cramp in your back from four-foot-tall ceilings?”

  He looked up at her. “It’s only for a few years—or was. My brother and his daughter have gone to live with Kane and Houston.”

  “But you stay.”

  Rafe looked back at the stream and didn’t answer.

  “The Pinkerton report said there were three suspects who could be bringing the unionists in. One was a man named Jeffery Smith, the second was Dr. Leander Westfield and the last was you.”

  Rafe didn’t look at her or speak, but his hand clutched and unclutched a rock.

  “You don’t have anything to say?”

  “Are the Pinkertons working as miners?”

  “I doubt if they wear uniforms,” she said sarcastically.

  He stood. “If that’s all you have to say, I need to get back to work. I guess you don’t know which men are the Pinks?”

  “Not even my father knows,” she said, standing beside him. “Rafe, you can’t go on doing this. You don’t have to stay here. I can get you a better job if you want—any kind of job.”

  He gave her a look from narrowed eyes. “Call it Taggert pride,” he said, as he started for his borrowed horse.

  “Rafe!” she caught his arm. “I didn’t mean—.” She stopped and dropped her arm. “I wanted to warn you. Maybe you don’t like the way I did it, and maybe you don’t like my father’s name, but I wanted to give you a chance to decide what you want to do. My father can be a ruthless man when he wants something.”

  He didn’t move or speak, and when she looked up at him, he was looking at her in a way that made her heart jump into her throat. Without conscious thought, she stepped forward into his arms.

  His kiss was slow and gentle and she felt as if she’d been looking for this man all her life.

  “Meet me here tonight,” he whispered. “Midnight. Wear something easy to get out of.” With that, he mounted his horse and was gone.

  Chapter 31

  After the horror of the morning, and then seven hours of mending the young men who’d been hurt in the stampede, Blair was exhausted. She was so tired that she didn’t even get angry when Lee received one of his calls that made him ride out without telling anyone where he was going.

  At dusk, she started the drive home, stopping off at the telegraph office to send