Quicksilver Passion Read online

  See that Hank gets some food and goes home.”

  Al made a gesture of protest. Miss Silver, you can’t keep feeding every old bum in the Rockies—”

  Drat it! Just do it, Al.” Her voice left no room for argument.

  Al shrugged his gorilla-like shoulders, threw up his hands in a helpless gesture, and moved to do her bidding.

  The girl sighed as she sipped her coffee, ignoring the men around her.

  Cherokee watched her, not daring to breathe. Now that she stood there, his courage deserted him. She stood so close, he could almost reach out and touch her, but he didn’t. The slight scent of wild flowers drifted from her warm skin. Cherokee had to fight himself to keep from reaching out and stroking her hair. It looked like spun moonbeams reflecting the light.

  His tormentor grinned at him across the top of the girl’s head. Miss Silver, this big half-breed has something he wants to ask you.”

  She paused in sipping her coffee and staring at her own reflection in the big mirror behind the bar. Turning, she looked directly up at Cherokee. Oh?”

  She wasn’t more than chest high on him and the light played on that flawless face. Cherokee had a sudden urge to pick her up, throw her across his wide shoulder, and carry her kicking and screaming back to his isolated cabin at Mosquito Gulch so he would have her all to himself.

  He had never felt so shy, so unsure of himself as he did now with this blond whore. Can I—can I buy you a drink?”

  I don’t drink, stranger. All the boys hereabouts know that.” She looked up at him, sure of herself, slightly amused at his hesitancy.

  He had a feeling all the men along the bar were watching and listening. Behind her, his tormentor mouthed the silent words: Ask her. Go on and ask her.

  That was a nice thing you did for the old man,” Cherokee stammered, but you girls probably can’t afford to do things like that.”

  Let me worry about that.” She grinned and sipped her coffee.

  You should smile more often,” Cherokee blurted without thinking. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd at his words. The girl’s expression went as cold as her eyes. That’s hardly your concern, now is it?”

  I reckon not,” he drawled, feeling the flush rise up past his collar.

  She seemed to sense his embarrassed discomfort and looked almost sympathetic. Where you from, plowboy?”

  Georgia, but I’ve spent some time in Tennessee.” She was a Yankee, most likely, although he couldn’t place the accent.

  I thought Southern men drank bourbon.”

  He felt big and awkward and foolish. Used to. But . . .” He didn’t finish. The night he had awakened in Savannah’s bed, he’d sworn he’d never touch another drop. Cherokee Evans was a man of his word.

  All the other men were waiting, listening. If he didn’t ask her soon, some other man would. And if another man tried to take Silver up those stairs, Cherokee wouldn’t be able to stop himself; he’d kill him with his bare hands.

  The girl finished her coffee and started to turn away.

  If he didn’t ask her now, the moment would be lost. It didn’t matter that the others were listening. I’d—I’d like to be your customer tonight,” he blurted.

  What? What did you say?” She whirled on him, her pale aqua eyes blazing.

  He heard a titter of laughter down the bar as men nudged each other and repeated what he’d said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Al moving toward him behind the bar. You know what I mean. I’ll pay whatever you usually charge and then some—”

  Her hand shot out and she slapped him so hard, he felt his head snap back. The sound might have been heard all over the saloon.

  Automatically, Cherokee’s hand felt his stinging cheek while laughter rang up and down the bar.

  My Gawd, did you hear what he asked Miss Silver? Must be a greenhorn!”

  The girl herself stood with small feet apart, hands on her hips. Fella, the boys have made you the butt of a joke tonight. Don’t you realize I own this place?”

  She whirled to leave while the laughter echoed around them. He felt rage sweep over him; he would kill all these white men for their joke. He would . . .

  Silver was walking away and that fact overrode his anger. Without thinking, Cherokee reached out and caught her arm. Wait! Don’t go!”

  Abruptly, he felt the distinctive outline of the barrel of a double-barreled shotgun against his back and heard Al’s low growl. Get your hands off her! No man alive puts his hands on Miss Silver!”

  Cherokee loosened his grip and turned slowly. The gorilla-like man with the face like five miles of bad road had the shotgun cocked and ready to blow Cherokee in half. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. Al adored the blonde more than enough to kill for her.

  Cherokee kept his hands where the other man could see them. I never meant no harm,” he drawled softly. I didn’t know—”

  If you want a girl, mister, there’s plenty here who’d take you upstairs. Every man in the Rockies knows Silver don’t allow no man to touch her!”

  She made a soothing gesture. It’s all right, Al. I suspect the boys played a trick on him.” She gave Cherokee one last, searching look, then turned and went back to the stage. Cherokee couldn’t keep his gaze off her undulating hips moving in the tight red satin. Al put down the shotgun, reached for his bottle of tonic, took a big drink, and moved farther down the bar.

  Zeke scratched his beard. Sorry, hombre, we play that joke on a lot of greenhorns. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Mind? By damn! He’d like to kill the man for humiliating him like that. But his major emotion was sadness and loss that she wouldn’t be sleeping in his arms tonight. To Doc, he said, Does she really own this saloon?”

  Yep. Silver and that bartender got off a stage a year ago and she bought the place. Paid cold, hard cash, I hear.”

  Cherokee watched her talk to the bald piano player. Where’d they come from?”

  Nobody knows. In the mining camps, it ain’t polite to ask too many questions.”

  Cherokee rolled a cigarette and lit it. He never took his gaze off the girl as he slowly shook out the match. Does any man ... well, does she ever . . .”

  Cherokee looked around at the men at the bar and knew the answer from the longing and regret on their weathered faces even before they shook their heads. Obviously Silver affected other men the same way she affected him.

  Cherokee watched her. She was a fire in Cherokee’s blood now—as desirable and unattainable as any queen. The fact that he hadn’t lain between a woman’s thighs in months only added to the fire in his veins, making his groin ache with pent-up seed.

  With a sinking heart, he looked around at the elegant saloon. The whore had more wealth than he did. Add to that the fact that he knew he was a rough, backwoods half-breed without a white man’s polished manners, and he realized that even if he’d had plenty of gold, she wouldn’t be interested in him anyway.

  The pretty, yellow-haired whore sidled up to him again. Buy me a drink now, sugar?”

  Cherokee tore his gaze away from Silver. His body ached for the release of a woman’s body. He grabbed the whore’s arm, propelling her ahead of him. Sweet darlin’, let’s the two of us go upstairs.”

  A man who knows what he wants. I like that!” She pressed against him and smiled. I can take care of what ails you in a few minutes!”

  A few minutes, hell! Darlin’, you better figure on me stayin’ all night! What’s your name again?”

  Nellie.”

  Come on, Nellie, you got your work cut out for you.”

  She giggled, looking back at him over her shoulder as they pushed through the crowd. With you, sugar, it’s not gonna be work, it’ll be pure pleasure!”

  They had to pass the piano to reach the stairs. As he passed Silver, he slapped Nellie on the rear and laughed loudly. Sweet darlin’, you ever take a man a dozen times in one night?”

  The girl giggled again, reached
out, and took his hand possessively. No, but you look like the man who could do it and make a girl die happy!”

  Damned right!” he said, sneaking a look at Silver as he started up the stairs. Then he paused, and their eyes locked for a long moment, though her expression betrayed nothing. He knew she had to have heard what he’d just said. He’d meant for her to. What had he expected her to do? How ironic—going upstairs with one girl and loco to have the one standing by the piano. Cherokee hesitated, wishing he could back down. He’d rather stand here and watch Silver than go upstairs with Nellie.

  Hey, sugar,” Nellie yelled from the top of the stairs, where are you? I thought you were in a hurry?”

  Yeah. Here I come.” He tore his gaze away from the other girl reluctantly and went up the stairs.

  He watched Nellie’s hips sway in the tight green dress ahead of him. Cherokee followed her into her room and kicked the door shut with his boot. If the boss lady is an iceberg, why does she allow you girls to work here?”

  Would you believe she don’t take a cent of our money, except for room and board? Says we work too hard for it.” Nellie quickly undid her tight dress with experienced fingers and stepped out of it. She wore a lace chemise underneath, but she didn’t have the body Silver had. At least her hair was somewhat the right color.

  Cherokee concentrated on the strawlike hair. Maybe he could pretend she was Silver. His manhood ached with need. She doesn’t take a cut of your money?”

  Silver’d just as soon we didn’t work here. Doesn’t really approve. But the girls need the jobs and we’d just work somewhere else if she didn’t allow it.”

  She came over, put her arms around his neck, and rubbed up against him. You feel hard as stone, sugar. I’m gonna make you real happy!”

  He closed his eyes, pulled the girl against him, and saw Silver’s face in his mind. His manhood was hard as stone . . . if stone could swell and throb and ache.

  He didn’t open his eyes as he pushed the lace straps off her shoulders so he could cup her breasts and pull her body closer to his pulsating hardness. Her breasts felt small, and when he buried his face in her coarse hair, the strong, cheap perfume she wore almost gagged him. He longed for the fragrance of wild flowers.

  Oh, sugar,” she cooed, wiggling her hips against his hardness, you really do want me bad, don’t you?”

  A woman; he needed a woman bad. A vessel to spew his hot seed into; that was all he needed now.

  He felt her fumbling with the buttons of his pants. Oh, sugar, I ought to charge you by the inch!” She giggled with delight as she went to her knees and kissed his manhood.

  He looked down at her through half-closed eyes, pretending that it was Silver on her knees before him in a lace chemise. He tangled his fingers in the girl’s hair and pulled her mouth against him again, throbbing at the wet hotness of her lips on him. You know what I want,” he gasped. Beg me for it. Beg me to take you.”

  Yes, that was what he wanted. He wanted the frigid Silver on her knees in submission, her lips caressing him, begging him to take her.

  I’ll beg if you like, sugar, but let’s get on the bed where we’ll be more comfortable.” She took his hand and led him to the bed.

  Cherokee sat down on the edge and reached to remove his boots.

  And then the music began again and Silver’s high, sweet voice floated up the stairs and under the door. It was almost as if she sang directly to him. With horror, he felt his desire ebb, his manhood begin to soften.

  By damn! He wouldn’t let her do this to him. He’d mount Nellie and satisfy his pent-up desire before Silver’s voice could affect him further. Without even taking off his boots, he grabbed Nellie and pushed her onto her back. I’m in a hurry,” he gasped. There’s no reason to pull anything off!”

  If you want me that bad . . .” The silly girl had her chemise off and obediently lay on her back with her legs spread.

  Silver’s voice floated faintly into the room. Damn her anyway! Even as he took the girl in his arms, he felt his body soften in protest. It didn’t want Nellie, it hungered for the other girl. He was both frustrated and angry as he sat up suddenly. I’ve changed my mind.”

  Changed your mind? As hot as you were?”

  He didn’t want to explain or argue with the girl. Here’s your money and then some.”

  He tossed two silver dollars on her bare belly, rolled over to sit up on the edge of the bed, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

  He had already lost the rigidity he needed to complete the act. Even though he had been without a woman for months, all he wanted was the girl downstairs—a woman as unattainable as the stars to a half-breed prospector like himself.

  Sugar, you ain’t leavin’?”

  Just watch me!” He stood up, looking down at the girl lying naked in a tangle of sheets and lace. Sorry about that, Nellie.”

  But why?”

  Never mind why. It isn’t your fault. I—I just changed my mind.” He started buttoning his pants.

  The song floated faintly through the door and Nellie sat up, glaring at him. It’s her, ain’t it? You want her? Well, Silver don’t sleep with no one, ’specially not some lowdown ’breed! You can eat your heart out, ’breed, but you won’t ever get in her bed! You should have been happy to get me.”

  Her words stung like gravel thrown against his face, but he resisted the urge to fling insults back. Cherokee could never hurt a woman, not even a whore. And didn’t he know that all white women were whores? Sorry, Nellie,” he drawled softly and strode out the door.

  Maybe he could sneak out without Silver seeing him. With all the fuss he’d made about spending the whole night with Nellie, he’d just as soon Silver didn’t know he was leaving early.

  He started down the stairs as the piano changed to another tune and the men began to applaud and cheer. Through the haze of smoke and smell of whiskey, he saw Silver taking the steps to the small stage.

  The piano banged loudly and the men sang along:

  De Camptown ladies sing dis song, doo-dah, doo-dah! De Camptown race track, five miles long—Oh! Doo-dah day!”

  Silver danced across the stage, her small feet flying to the melody. She had such a natural grace and rhythm that Cherokee forgot he was trying to sneak out unnoticed; that he was furious with the girl for denying him what he wanted.

  He had never seen anyone dance so well, graceful feet moving to the music while the men cheered her on. If the flawless beauty sang well, she was an even better dancer. And when she whirled, her skirts flew up, revealing long, beautiful legs.

  Halfway down the stairs, Cherokee leaned against the rail, and watched her dance, unwilling, no, unable to tear himself away. He had a sudden vision of his own dark, naked body lying between those thighs, her shapely legs locked around his hard-driving hips, pulling him deeper into her wet warmth. He would put his hands under her small hips, tilting her up for his deep thrusting. His mouth would find her pink nipples and she would arch her back to encourage him to suck harder, while she made soft, vulnerable noises of surrender in her throat.

  And his mouth on hers, he urged her on. Come with me, sweet darlin’, oh come . . . come with me, sweet Silver. . . .

  The music stopped, pulling him out of his fantasy. Here he stood, his manhood hard and aching again with a ready girl upstairs. Oh hell, what a fool he was!

  Silver took a bow to thunderous applause and then she turned and looked directly at him. Her pale, aquamarine eyes expressed no surprise at seeing him. In fact, it was almost as if she realized he would be standing there, her worshipful subject as were all the other men in this place. No wonder she didn’t have a man, she had a hundred male slaves eager to do her bidding—willing to throw themselves over a cliff or lay riches at her tiny feet for just one smile, one gesture.

  Cherokee had the most insane urge to run down the stairs and up to the stage, grab her, throw her over his wide shoulders, and carry her off. But he knew these men would lynch him for trying. Cherokee both hated and desired
her at the same time, as men always want that which they cannot have.

  With an oath, he stumbled down the stairs, through the swinging doors, and out into the chill spring night. He’d go to another bawdy house, find another girl with hair as pale as moonbeams.

  But he didn’t. He went to a hotel and lay sleepless on his bed, staring up at the stained ceiling. It must be his imagination that the sound of her high, sweet voice seemed to drift faintly on the night air, accompanied by the rhythmic tap of her dancing feet.

  Tomorrow he’d buy his supplies, get his burro shod, and head back to the claim. By the next time he got to town, the girl would probably have moved on. Pretty whores didn’t stay too long in one spot. They ended up in places like San Francisco, got married, or found a rich man to keep them in luxury as long as their looks lasted.

  Silver. Whore. The two didn’t seem to go together. He remembered her hard eyes that looked as if the owner had seen too much, experienced too much. And yet her full, soft mouth betrayed a vulnerability and sensitivity rare in a saloon girl. No wonder the men of Buckskin Joe loved her.

  It was a long time before he dropped off into a troubled sleep. In his dreams, he heard her singing and saw her dancing only for him in some remote place where no other man could enjoy her beauty or lust after her.

  Then she came into his arms, soft and giving, opening up her thighs like some exotic flower so he could mesh with her, become one in an ecstasy of love. Her flawless face smiled at him as she reached for him and he saw his reflection in her pale eyes. She was special to him at that moment, not because of her beauty, but because he saw his reflection in her eyes, and knew she loved him, too.

  Cherokee came to her, gently taking her, murmuring sweet words, whispering that he loved her, wanted her with him for all time. Even when her looks were gone, when she was wrinkled and old, she would always be beautiful to him as long as he saw that love for him in those aqua eyes.

  Silver, oh, sweet darlin’ . . .” In his dreams he crushed her to him, poured his seed deep into her. At that moment, he awakened, sweating and thrashing in his bed. Her hair spread over the pillow. Cherokee blinked sleepily, reached to stroke those silken locks. But it was only moonlight spilling through the window and across the pillow.