The Union (35 page)

If only she could be certain about Lunn. He'd been acquitted of the murder charges brought against him. All along he'd claimed the militia had invented the charges as revenge against the union's success, as a way to cripple the union. But Keely had heard too many disturbing rumors, too many accounts of the murder to be certain. And further, why was Lunn going to Boise City? The Clan-na-Gael? She shivered.

Maybe she could force herself to marry Lunn, tolerate his advances, and give him children. There seemed few options. Maybe she could re-establish her reputation in the Valley, and help to rebuild an upright, honorable union—one she could believe in. Lunn seemed to be the door to that path. But if he were involved in the Clan-na-Gael, she wanted none of him. She wasn't certain she did anyway.

She sighed. Boise City. It seemed so far away from everything, including her problems. Boise City? Her heart started pounding loudly in her chest.

She had money. She could go. What if she did and checked up on Lunn? What excuse would she give? She thought a moment. Support for the union, of course. Loyalty to the men who had fought for the cause couldn't hurt her reputation, either.

Boise City

October 1892

Dietz focused his attention on the mirror and adjusted his tie. All dandied up he looked sharp. He smiled to himself. At least without the mustache he looked like himself. He eased away from the mirror and pulled on his suit coat. Ah, the fit of fine wool and clever stitchery. He stepped to the window and cautiously pulled the curtains back a crack. No use giving the Clan-na-Gael a clear shot at him.

Warm, brown mountains ringed the valley where Boise City sat, radiating their heat into the city. Though early, the day promised to be hot, no less so for the task at hand. Dietz let the curtain drop. Two days in town, and now, for the first time, he'd sit in on court. Not on Gaffney's trial, as he would have preferred, but on Waters'.

Damn that Gaffney. Rumor had him still in Boise City. He'd been spotted once or twice over the past week, but so far had eluded the officials.

Assault. Attempted hold up of a train. Thievery. Attempted murder. Dietz mentally ticked off Gaffney's crimes, sins that Dietz had spent a day elaborating to the U.S. Marshal. Based on Dietz's evidence, the Marshal had issued a warrant for Gaffney's arrest. Finding the bastard proved a problem.

A knock sounded, taking Dietz from his thoughts of Gaffney.
 

"Dietz, you in there? We got to get moving if we want prime seats in court." Patterson's ebullient laugh floated into the room.

"Coming."

Out in the hall, Patterson greeted him with a slap on the back. "You ready for today?"

"Ready. Court testimony is the worst part of this job."

"Is it now?" Patterson walked beside him toward the stairs. "Worse than being waist deep in cold sewage in Placer Creek?"

Dietz smiled. "Sitting still for so many hours in a row? Has to be. At least we were moving in the creek."

"So we were."

They rounded the corner and descended the stairs.

"Any word on Gaffney?" Dietz tried to sound casual. Mentioning Gaffney, his voice always betrayed his rage and hatred of the man.

"Marshal's got several troops out after him. Last I heard they had a lead on where he might be staying."

###

The courtroom was filling quickly. Keely sat toward the back, watching as people filed in, trying to decide where their sympathies lay by gauging their mannerisms. This made her third day in court. The process of obtaining justice, though intriguing, fascinated her less than the actual testimony. So much she hadn't known, so many things she'd missed while absorbed in her own life. The scope of the violence, the treacheries, how could she have missed so much of what had transpired early on? She turned her attention away from the gathering crowd and turned to stare sightlessly at the bench in front of her.

Michael had known. Was it merely his shielding that had protected her from seeing? It made her wonder about her own astuteness, and her goals. With the depth of the violence and hatred, could one woman, could one person make a difference? Was there any chance of the union being restored to what it should have been all along?

Her hatred for the mine owners had not lessened with time. Someone still needed to fight for the rights of the working man. She just wasn't sure that she was the right person. Hearing the testimony, passionate and stilted on both sides, made her realize, or was fear a more apt word, that she might never be forgiven. However innocent of the detective's identity, however much the victim herself, the bias that fear and ignorance brought ran deep and strong. Her association with John Dietz, and yes, her obvious love for him, made her unforgivable.

And Lunn Gaffney? She doubted now, more than before, that he would ever be the right choice for her. The stain on her reputation had set too firmly and could never be washed away, not even by such an advocate as Lunn, not even by wearing his wedding band. Days of discreet inquiry about him within the Irish community had yielded nothing of either his whereabouts, or his involvement in the Clan. Had he lied to her about going to Boise City? She had expected to find him in the courtroom. Had something or someone chased him or sent him away?

The courtroom doors opened again, bringing a cool, welcome gust of air from outside into the stagnant room as more people entered. She turned to inhale the freshness and observe the latest arrivals.
 

Her heart stopped as John Dietz, immaculately turned out and clean-shaven, but unmistakable still, walked through the door. She could neither breathe nor tear her gaze away from him.

Patterson rattled off another of his stories as he and Dietz broke through the courtroom doors. Dietz only half listened. His gaze swept the crowded courtroom, instinctively gauging the situation, looking for enemies or allies, spies and hired killers. Instead, he found Keely, able on her own to maim him in ways a man sent to kill him could not. Stunned shock crashed over him, rendering him defenseless and immobile. For an instant their eyes locked.
 

What did he do now, other than stare like a fool and listen to his own blood rush in his ears?

The green of her eyes that had haunted his memories mesmerized him still. Her looks always entangled him, but the beauty that had snared him ran as deep as her soul.

Think, Dietz.
What did decorum demand—-nod, smile, look away guiltily? How did one, if one did acknowledge the widow of a character he'd once played, an ex-wife of sorts, a lover certainly? A woman he wanted to forget but couldn't, and still loved?

He nodded acknowledgment while his heart hammered at his ribs. He turned abruptly from her condemning gaze, colliding with Patterson who stared over his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me she was here?"

"I didn't know. Believe me, I didn't know."

Chapter 21

Lunn Gaffney hid in the alley across from the courthouse. Finding the detective agent John Dietz in town was butter on the bread. Taking revenge against him could only be sweet. Lunn had come to Boise City to kill Charlie Patterson. The union had put an outrageous price on both detective agents' heads, but Dietz had not been spotted for months. Since the possibility of killing both men and escaping seemed remote, he shifted his target to Dietz. Personal satisfaction counted for something.

Why should the Clan collect the money? What did another man's blood on his hands matter at this point? More important matters pressed. With the bounty for Dietz he could make a tidy nest for Keely and himself. What a fitting irony—rid himself of a rival, mark himself as a hero, and by Dietz's death support his lady in style.

Keely
. Lunn had been shadowing her since her arrival in town, wondering what had brought her to Boise City. She'd been making inquiries about him, trying to find him. Her actions pleased him, showing a turn of heart. Was she worried about him? He liked the notion. And the way she sat in court lending support to his union brethren could only help her reputation.

A sound at the back of the alley startled him. When he turned, he found nothing. He cursed under his breath. Could have been just a cat or a rat, anything. But for safety, as soon as he made this hit and collected his cash, he would run to Canada and wait for things to settle down. And he intended to take Keely with him.

Time to get back under cover. Time to plan his strategy for eliminating the detective. A public execution seemed fitting. A blind shot echoing from a building or an alley and finding a resting place in Dietz's chest would do the trick.

There was time before the court's first recess to devise a strategy. He would kill John Dietz today.

Dietz sat toward the front of the courtroom and felt Keely's gaze boring into him. How much longer could he resist the urge to turn around and face the charge she had leveled at him with a look?

Patterson leaned into him and whispered. "You look like a ramrod. Relax and enjoy the testimony. She can't kill you a look."

He was that obvious?
 

The witness droned on. Dietz had lost track of the testimony an hour ago, before it began, since he'd first seen her.
 

With a whack of his gavel, the judge adjourned the court for a recess. The sound brought Keely up out of her thoughts and set her heart thundering again. With John Dietz in the room there existed no place for her gaze to fall but on him.
I can't face him.

For the last hours she'd been trying to analyze the look he'd given her. What had she seen in those violet eyes? But try as she might she remembered nothing but her own shock reflected back at her. And his curt nod—nothing but barest courtesy.

To look into those eyes again and see nothing but the impersonal look of a stranger would wound her. To see them filled with any tenderness at all, any compassion or look of fond memory, would condemn her forever to an inescapable prison of her own heart's creation. She lived there now, but barely.
 

The crowd began to rise and file out. She watched John Dietz as he leaned over and spoke with Mr. Allison, Mr. Patterson. He looked handsome in his dark gray wool suit and white shirt.
 

Admit it. He looks good in anything.
 

He rose and started to turn in her direction. She must exit,
quickly
.

She kept her eyes cast downward and her head bowed. Her chosen comportment offered her little view other than that of other women's skirts, men's pant legs and boots—so much safer, all of it, than faces. She filed slowly toward the aisle. Why hadn't she chosen an aisle seat, rather than politely moving to center pew? The people in front of her moved slowly, like sloths.
 

Hurry. Oh, hurry!
Sitting so far back in the room, she ought to have been able to leave and been safely to her hotel room before he cleared the doorway. If not for these incredibly leisurely and polite people in front of her letting everyone pass first. Why didn't they cut their way into the stream of exiting traffic?

She didn't dare to glance up and check Mr. Dietz's progress, but if only because of her own desire to be gone, she felt him closing the gap. It wasn't that she assumed that he would pursue contact with her; well, maybe she did
hope
. It was more that he might accidentally end up near her, and what could that bring? Ruthless awkwardness that led to small talk and heartache?

The couple before her moved into the stream pouring into center aisle. Finally! Her heart pounded wildly as she stepped out of the courthouse moments later and strode into the sunshine. Freedom! She raced toward the courthouse steps as quickly as her narrow skirt permitted.

As she lifted the heavy wool folds of her skirt and prepared to descend, a hand on her elbow stopped her cold.

"Keely."

Her name on his lips sliced through her like a cold breeze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not caring if he noticed.

"Mr. Dietz." Despite her best efforts, her voice wavered. "Is that who you are today, or are you playing another role?"

"I guess I deserve that." Did she mean to kill him so completely? She'd torn out of the courtroom, obviously intent on avoiding him. But damned if Dietz would let her go this time without offering some explanation.

"Just myself today." He forced a smile, trying to coax one from her. "You're wondering who that is, I suppose."

That did the trick. She actually looked him in the eye and a tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"I might have cause to, you know."

He laughed, albeit a bit nervously. Up close, she smelled like he remembered, of flowers. Smell proved a potent memory stimulant. All he wanted was to take her in his arms, like old times.

She started down the stairs. "You seem to have escaped the Valley intact."

He kept pace with her. He wished he knew what she thought of him, if she still felt anything, but he could get no read. She seemed polite, nothing more.

"Barely. What do you think of the trial?"
What an idiot thing to say, Dietz.

She returned her gaze to her feet as she carefully took the steps. "Interesting enough. You knew Mr. Waters well. Will you testify against him?"