Free In The Face Of Death by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page A

cheer as he left. He promised to come again in three nights, and that he would find good reasons for us to be in one another’s company without attracting undue attention and gossip, which pleased me very much, for it is enervating to live with such close scrutiny. I pointed out to him that this would require some careful planning, to which he replied that he was very good at strategy and swore he would relish the opportunity, thinking it worthy of his talents. . . .
     
    The warmth of the day was quickly fading before the chill fingers of fog that came caressing the hills from the west. As they turned down the steep hill, the wind nipping at their backs, Sherman signaled Madelaine to swing her horse off the main road to the wooded copse, indicating through gestures that they could then dismount and put on their coats.
    “The Spanish call those two hills the Maiden’s Breasts,” he said to her as he lifted her out of the sidesaddle under the trees. He indicated the slope they had just descended. “I like yours better.” He took the reins from her hand and secured them to one of the low-growing oaken branches, next to where his grey was tied.
    “Less hectic to ride, I imagine,” said Madelaine, smiling in spite of herself.
    “I wouldn’t say that,” Sherman whispered to her as he bent down to wrap her in his arms, his lips seeking hers. He took his time about it, feeling her warm to him; it promised well for the night ahead. When he moved back from her, he said, teasing her, “There isn’t any other land you would like to inspect, with the prospect of purchasing it, is there? That cove down the coast may prove worth the money asked for it; no doubt there are other promising locations as well. I will find out where land is for sale, so that you can have a look at it. I would have to escort you to advise you and to negotiate for you, wouldn’t I? I could not allow you to venture abroad without suitable protection. I would be remiss in my duty if I did.” He bent and, moving the thick knot of hair at the nape of her neck aside, kissed her just under her ear. “Where you kiss me, Madelaine. Where you pledge me your bond.” His lips were light and teasing, almost playful.
    It took her a while to gather her thoughts, and when she did, she struggled to voice them. “That is a good notion, on its own; never mind the chance for privacy it offers us. If you know of any I might like, tell me of it, and I will arrange to see it for myself,” she said quite seriously. “I am in earnest, Tecumseh. I want to purchase some land here.”
    “So far speculation has been very profitable, at least in this area.” He nodded, doing his best to fall into his role as banker. “When Congress finally comes to its senses and builds a railroad linking the East coast with the West, then land here may become even more valuable, but it will not happen until there is a railroad. Not even a good wagon road would help as the railroad would. But it would be better than nothing,” he said, letting his rancor show. “There is no sense in their reluctance to authorize the railroad other than their usual damned lack of foresight. The telegraph link with the Mississippi only begs the question, but it is typical of Congress to settle for half-measures when full ones are wanted. As long as they keep California isolated, it will have little to attract investors beyond the gold fields, and that is not investment but exploitation; and it will continue as long as there is no land connection but trails across the continent. Only when goods and people may cross quickly and comfortably will the Pacific come into its own, and assume its place in the scheme of things, bringing Occident and Orient together as no gang of Chinese laborers and cooks can do now. Until that time, it will be the last point of escape for the dreamers and scoundrels who seek their own private paradise, and attempt to create it for themselves here. It is short-sighted political