GOLD LUST CONSPIRACY
Lynda Rees
May, 1880
Jessie entered the secluded alcove near adjoining railcar doors toward the necessary. After dealing with her needs she exited to return to her seat.
Swish! Hot outside air assailed Jessie as the connecting doors between cars opened and closed.
Before she could turn, rough hands gripped her shoulders. The intruder spun her around and she slammed against the wall. A stunned gasp escaped as her heart skipped. Her head shook to clear her vision.
“What in tarnation?”
A burly man in soiled deerskin leaned into her. A wicked grin exposed a few rotting teeth left in his mouth. An array of revolting odors assaulted Jessie’s nose and she flinched then shivered, repulsed as the stench reeked of perspiration and something else—dried blood, urine? His smothering, steamy breath stank of cheap whiskey and decay.
The man sniffed Jessie’s neck, pushing against her body. His guttural voice slurred, “Give old Wheezer a kiss. Will ya? One smackeroo will do. I ain’t seen no white woman in more’n a year.”
He licked Jessie from her neck toward her ear, sending tremors of fear along her spine. Heart racing, adrenaline pumping through her veins, fumbling for the fan hanging from her wrist, exposed a slim, razor-sharp dagger hidden within its ivory tines. Attempting to aim the blade at the disgusting man’s side, Jessie groped for the hidden compartment in her skirt to withdraw another weapon, but couldn’t reach it.
Suddenly, the connecting doors slid open and slammed shut. Hot air swooshed in. Jessie’s attacker glanced behind him as she struggled harder.
Just in time to see a large hand catch Wheezer’s neck in a chokehold. His tongue lolled out as he gagged and sputtered.
A statuesque man had pulled Wheezer off Jessie. The towering intruder’s powerful appendage grabbed the back of Wheezer’s neck and dragged the now-helpless tormentor toward the open connecting door, pushing him through it. With a zip-slamming rumble from the door, they were gone.
Free from her attacker, Jessie stood, shaking but erect. She smoothed her skirt, righted herself, and surveyed what she could of her appearance, bringing a hand to her hat to ensure it remained properly attached.
A lady must look regal in every circumstance. That lesson had been ingrained in Jessie during the last year.
Jessie stepped through the door, curious about the gallant stranger who’d come to her assistance, following him out to a walkway connecting the railcars. Throat still clutched in her rescuer’s hand, Wheezer’s feet swayed above the floor. Squealing, protesting, mostly gasping, he attempted to fill his lungs with sufficient air.
The man flipped Wheezer across the barrier, dangling him above the train coupling and the open rail like a weightless rag doll, while the train raced above a steep ravine to a shallow rocky riverbed at least a mile downward.
Jessie gaped at the spectacle. Would her savior drop the rude mountain man?
“Listen, old codger,” The stranger spat, “if you accost this lady or any other on this train again, you won’t receive a warning. Your miserable ass will be sent to hell. Understand?”
Wheezer’s panicked eyes grew as big as saucers as he visibly trembled and frantically nodded. Between his parched lips, slobber drooled from his gaping mouth.
The scent of testosterone oozed from the impressive stranger, the essence of maleness. Powerful shoulders and arms threatened to burst his jacket seams. Her height barely reached the towering stranger’s shoulder.
“You owe this lady an apology.” He brutally shook the quivering Wheezer as Wheezer’s head wobbled back and forth helplessly. All the fight had deserted Wheezer. He became limp as embroidery thread.
“What’re you waiting for?”
Wheezer blinked at Jessie, seemingly forgetting her presence. Quaking, Wheezer rasped, “I apologize, ma’am.” Wheezer appeared sorrowfully on the brink of tears.
Satisfied, her rescuer brought Wheezer back across the railing, settled Wheezer’s feet gently onto the floor, and released him. The wretched bully scurried through the connecting door and disappeared into the next car.
Jessie’s champion turned, chuckling low, his face actually turned pink. The spectacular male appeared embarrassed.
Intriguing.
A broad hand brushed back shaggy blonde hair which had come untamed during the tussle. His stunning face held a gracious smile. Flashing that adorable, dimpled expression at his mama, he could likely get away with anything.
Jessie tingled with a sudden desire to touch the appealing dent in his strong jaw. Hot blood surged through her veins.
Had someone fired the potbelly stove in the already s weltering railcar?
Heart pounding against the corseted restraints Jessie waved the fan over her face and pressed a gloved hand hard on her chest, as if keeping it from busting loose.
“Please forgive my rudeness. I apologize for my language. I don’t normally speak that way in front of a lady. I had no choice.” The stranger’s head bowed nobly. Raising his face to Jessie, his smile exposed perfect white teeth.
Jessie gazed transfixed at those lips, unable to hold back an involuntary sigh.
“The old coot got himself liquored up and bent on mischief, so I followed him. He’s a recluse, a mountain hermit. They rarely come out into public and don’t care much for people. When they do their lack of social skills leads to chaos. Wheezer’s sort only understands strong language and a firm hand.” The stranger’s voice held an apologetic note.
The handsome gent grinned. Had he read her silly thoughts? His eyes seemed to glint with an appreciative light as he inspected her from head to toe.
She should take offense. Oh, hell! She ogled him, too.
Want to read more?
A marriage of convenience turns Jessie Blackstone into a young widow responsible for the livelihood of many in savage, lawless Skagway, Alaska. Jessie faces severe weather, brutal landscape, her sordid past and her attraction to virile lumberjack, Logan Pace. She must learn to thrive in a man’s hostile business world.
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