“Like I said earlier,” Nathan said. “You've many things to learn. Share a few drinks with me and you'll find it much easier when I ask you to share that nice bed with me.” His gaze flashed from Maria, to the bed, then back to Maria once again, a smile lifting his whiskers from his lips.
Maria's fingers began to tremble. She took a quick swallow of wine, then said weakly, “But you … said … that you would leave me be. We are not even married. Surely you … wouldn't….”
His face was expressionless as he settled down onto a chair opposite her. He crossed his legs, revealing his highly polished boots to Maria. “Did I say that?” he said, sipping on the wine. “I must be more careful with the words I choose to speak. Especially in the company of one so beautifully tempting as you.”
Maria's eyes lowered. “But, I do wish“ she began,
but was interrupted.
“Your beauty is a unique one, don't you know that, Maria?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Please . . . Nathan“
“There is only one flaw that I see,” he said, clearing his throat. “But maybe with some facial makeup we can hide that ugly birthmark from view.”
Maria's fingers reached up and touched the spot on her face of which he was speaking. Her face flushed; she had never felt that her birthmark was so ugly to have to be covered by cheap makeup. “You are wrong, sir, “she stated flatly. “I shall not cover my birthmark. You cannot have everything to your liking. My becoming your wife does not mean I have to bow down to you. You will learn that quite quickly.”
Nathan rose and put his glass down inside the liquor cabinet. He began unbuttoning his shirt, glowering. “We shall see about that,” he said. “I now wish to take you to bed. Undress. Now.”
The jolting of the train on its tracks caused Maria to swallow hard, knowing that the train was now traveling away from Hawkinsville and the security she had always felt when in Alberto's and her Papa's presence.
Now? She was left completely to fend for herself. When she saw Nathan reach behind him and lift the pistol from his breeches, she thought this to be cause for conversation to possibly postpone her trip to the bed. She swallowed hard, then said, “You didn't say why you are wearing the gun, Nathan.”
“For protection. Why else?”
“Whose .. . protection . .. ?”
“Mine,” he said, glowering toward her.
“Protection . . . from . . . whom . . . ?”
He moved the pistol from one hand to the other, as though weighing it. “There have been threats on my life,” he said darkly. “I only recently began to feel the need to carry my pistol.”
Maria sipped her wine slowly, then added. “But why would anyone . . . want… to kill you?” She knew the answer to that, but needed to lead Nathan further into conversation. Oh, how she hated the thought of sharing the bed with him.
Nathan went to a chair and sat back down onto it, still eyeing the pistol he held in his hand. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and began shining the pistol's barrel.
“It is this damn organization called the United Mine Workers of America that is causing me the trouble,” he grumbled. “They are trying to tell me how to run my coal mine. But it is mine. No one will come to my coal mine and tell me what to do. No one.”
“I have never heard of this organization,” Maria prodded, relieved to see him settle back against the chair, sulking. She now knew that she had succeeded in getting his mind to wander from things other than what her body could do for him.
“It is called the ‘union’ for short,” he grumbled further.
“Who runs this … as you call. . . it. . . Union?”
“At first several union members sought me out. To try to convince me that my mine wasn't safe. And that I wasn't treating my workers fairly. But when I ran them off my property, I heard tell that they then had this one person come to Hawkinsville to do secret investigating to prove my negligence with my mine and people.” He laughed sardonically. “I guess they think this one bastard can make Nathan Hawkins change his way of life. Well, they have something to learn about this Nathan Hawkins.”
“How is this one man doing this . . . uh .. . investigating?”
“So far my men haven't discovered who it is. We've only heard mention of a nam
e. A man named Hopper. From Saint Louis. I hear tell that he comes to Hawk-insville very well disguised. But one day we will catch up with him. And when we do … we will be sure that he will get a bullet through his skull.”
Maria almost dropped the glass as her fingers began to tremble violently. Hopper. Did Nathan truly speak of… Michael… Hopper? She knew that she had paled and took another quick drink of wine in an effort to put more color into her cheeks.
“This . . . Hopper,” she said in a near whisper. “How did you hear about him?”
“My representatives. They have ways of hearing things.”