“But we are trying to keep informed about Brandon’s operations as best we can, while being discreet. A full house, gentlemen.”
As Bishop raked in the small pile of coins in the middle of the table, Paco tilted his chair back on the two rear legs, frowning. “So what is it we’re supposed to do? Sign on with the mine? Find out what’s going on?”
“No, that is too risky. You two are known to Brandon, and possibly to men in his employ. Besides, we have some men there already. It would be best if we had someone familiar with Brandon and his methods, someone in his confidence, perhaps, who might be able to discover his future plans. I know that the senator has renewed his acquaintance with Sam Murdock.”
Silence fell. Steve glared at Bishop across the table. It was just like him to throw in that name while raking in the pot! Damn the man, he had ice water in his veins and the damndest luck. He leaned forward to take more cards, words more casual than he felt.
“Just where is Murdock these days? Last I saw of him he was staying at Jack Prendergast’s place in New Mexico Territory.”
Prayers End. And Beth…. God, he hadn’t thought about her for so long, until she had popped into his mind the night that Ginny decided to tell him everything about herself. Then, out of the blue, Elizabeth Cady’s name had loomed, once a bright flame in the darkness that had followed the news of Ginny’s death. Bleak days when he hadn’t cared if he lived or not, hadn’t quite known why he was still alive. It had taken nearly dying to bring him back to living.
That, and Beth.
He wondered if she was happy with Burneson, and hoped she was. She was just the kind of woman for a man like Martin Burneson—steady and reliable, surprisingly passionate beneath her shell of reserve. And she’d known better than he did that she wasn’t the woman for him. There had only been one woman in his life who never failed to intrigue him, all too often infuriating him, but never boring him.
And it was that woman who would be furious if he did what it was obvious Bishop wanted him to do.
“There are telegraph wires strung all the way out to San Francisco, you know.” He tossed his cards down to the scarred tabletop. “If you want Murdock, all you have to do is wire him.”
“He’s a busy man. Besides, as you have no doubt guessed by now, he is visiting Prendergast’s ranch. It would be an excellent opportunity to draft a plan without a lot of attention being drawn to your meeting.”
“If you think my arrival there would go unnoticed, you are dead wrong. Remember, I had a little trouble there once before.”
“Yes, well, I’m certain that you’re imaginative enough to find a way to speak with Murdock without a lot of notice being taken. More cards?”
“Hell, no! I’m not playing cards with you, and I’m not going to see Murdock. Get yourself another man. I’m supposed to be going to my grandfather’s, then making sure the rifles get safely to Mexico City and into the right hands, remember? That was the plan.”
“Plans so frequently change. Circumstances arise that make it necessary to be flexible, Steve. Of all the men who report to me, you are the one that Murdock trusts most. And Brandon trusts Murdock.”
“And Ginny is back at the hotel expecting me to go with her to my grandfather’s. What in hell am I supposed to tell her?”
“That is a matter between husband and wife, but I’m certain she would not begrudge you the opportunity to see an old friend. Or two.”
Behind the bland surface of Bishop’s expression lurked a hidden meaning, and Steve’s eyes narrowed.
“I think,” Bishop added unctuously, “you might find it quite instructive to renew old acquaintances.”
It was just like Bishop, Steve thought impatiently, to change tactics and leave him to deal with the results. Hell, it would take at least two weeks to get there, meet with Murdock and then get back. Ginny would never believe that he hadn’t known it from the first.
Instead of the explosion he expected, Ginny stared at him with wide green eyes when he told her he had to leave for a while.
“It won’t be long. Christ, don’t look at me like that. I told you that it wasn’t my decision.”
“Yes, but you haven’t told me where you’re going.”
“You know I can’t.”
There was a long pause, then she said softly, “I suppose I should be grateful that you told me you’re leaving this time instead of just going without a word. But don’t you ever get tired of Jim Bishop running your life?”
“Not nearly as tired as I get of being nagged about it. Dammit, Ginny, you’ve always known how it’s been. This is what I do, what I’ve done since before I ever met you.”
“I thought that by taking a position as ambassador, you would be able to have a normal life instead of disappearing for days, weeks, months at a time like you do, going God only knows where and doing God only knows what. One of these days I expect to see Jim Bishop at my door instead of you, telling me that this time your luck didn’t hold out, that this time the bullet was fatal.”
She drew in a deep breath, eyes wide and glistening with anger and distress. “How do you think I feel, always waiting, always knowing that
