Colorado Dawn (25 page)

Men stopped to stare after Yvette, but for the first time in his recollection she gave no heed to the admiring glances. Her blue eyes burned like holes in her white face.

Uncertainty swamped him. Was she really taking the breakup so hard? He hadn’t thought her emotionally involved at all, or he might not have been so abrupt—not that he regretted his decision. Breaking the engagement had been the right thing to do.

Aunt Tabitha harrumphed and hobbled a few steps away but not before elbowing him and giving him a don’t-make-a-fool-of-yourself-again glare. Not that he was of a mind to stick his head back into the bear trap of romance ever again.

“Sam, thank goodness you haven’t left yet.” Tears hovered on Yvette’s coppery lashes. “I need to speak with you.”

“I can’t see what we have to talk about.”

“Please, won’t you let me apologize?” A man jostled her on his way by and muttered an apology.

Sparse snowflakes hovered in the air, and Sam realized she wore no hat. “You look cold. Let’s go into the waiting room.”

He turned to Aunt Tabitha, but she looked past him. “I see Mr. Korbin with the children.” She leveled a hard stare at Yvette. “You deal with Miss Adelman, and then come and find me before departure.”

Sam took Yvette’s elbow and led her into the building. The smell of damp wool and wood smoke curled around him. He spotted a place beside a mountain of luggage where traffic seemed to eddy and flow by. When they reached it, he dropped her arm and crossed his.

She laced her fingers and held them to her chest, her eyes turned upward to him. “Please, Sam, won’t you reconsider? I’m so sorry for what you heard. I let myself get carried away talking to mother. I don’t really think you’re a sheep. I don’t know why I said that.” She reached out to touch his forearm and flicked her lashes. “Don’t you remember all we meant to each other? You feel something for me. I know you do. Please, tell me you’ll still marry me.” She leaned close, eyes full of appeal.

Another pair of eyes interposed itself in his memory. Big, brown eyes, as honest as the day was long. Brown eyes so grateful for a simple box of chocolates that he’d felt warmed through. Yvette’s appeal only left him cold and ashamed that he’d ever been duped by her facade.

He leaned back. “It’s over, Yvette. I accept your apology, for what it’s worth, but I have no intention of marrying you. You’ll have to look elsewhere for your sacrificial lamb.”

“I can’t accept that.” The tears spilled over, and her hand gripped his arm. “You have to marry me. I’ll be…I’ll be ruined if you don’t.”

“Your social set won’t bat an eye at the broken engagement. You’ll soon land a new victim to work your wiles on. What about that Anthony character your mother mentioned? Why not track him down?”

She swiped at her tears, and her shoulders shook. “I…I…did. I tried. He just laughed and said I wouldn’t trap him into marriage. Sam, I have to get married…and soon. Please,” she pleaded again. “You’ve always been so gallant, won’t you be gallant now? Save me, save my reputation, please?”

Her desperation suddenly made sense. The whirlwind courtship, the rush to the altar…She’d lined him up from the minute he’d said hello. “Who’s the father?” Like it mattered.

A sob choked her, but she managed to whisper, “Anthony.”

“And the bounder has no intention of marrying you? He knows about the child?” Outrage, not so much for Yvette as for the child, boiled through him. What kind of man walked away from a woman when she was carrying his child?

“He knows. He ran away even faster than you. On the morning train to Chicago.”

Sam jammed his hands into his pockets and gritted his teeth. What a mess. He shook his head, rocking on his heels. “You know, I didn’t think my pride could be beaten down any further after overhearing you call me a sheep, but I hadn’t reckoned on this. Worse than just marrying me for my money, you planned to rush me to the altar so you could pass off your child as mine? We’ve known each other for almost six weeks. Have you known the whole time that you were carrying? Did you think I wouldn’t know? Or that I was so besotted with you that once I found out I wouldn’t care? You must think I’m as dumb as a sack of hammers.”

Her legs seemed to give way beneath her, and she wobbled. He had to grab her to keep her from collapsing on the floor. Lifting her into his arms, he made for an empty bench.

She wrapped her arms around his neck—a motion that had once sent his heart into orbit—and whispered against his neck, “Please, Sam, won’t you help me?”

Kneeling, he placed her onto the bench and disengaged her arms. “Yvette, I’m truly sorry for your situation, but I won’t marry you.” She sobbed into his handkerchief, and he motioned for one of the porters hovering nearby. “Will you get one of the lady porters from the ladies’ waiting room?”

Several people stopped and whispered among themselves.

Sam’s collar tightened, and he glanced at the wall clock. Less than a quarter of an hour until the train pulled out.

Yvette swung her legs over the edge of the bench. Her shoulders hunched, and she looked small and defenseless, not much like the vivacious, confident woman he’d thought he’d known. “What will I do now? Everything’s ruined.”

He sighed. “You’ll go home to your family and sort this out. Your mother can have the authorities track this Anthony joker down and make him do right by you. At the very least, you won’t be out on the street. You’ve got money.”

Another wail burst through the handkerchief. “But we don’t. It’s all a sham, don’t you see? The house and furniture are rented. At that, we only kept the salon nicely furnished. The rest of the house is bare bones. Mother overdrew her account to see me clothed for the season. If you don’t marry me, we’ll be out on the street in less than a month.”

He hung his head. Christian charity demanded he do something, but what? Not marriage, that was for sure. At the least, he could see she had some money to tide her over. He reached into his inside pocket for his wallet. He frowned. It wasn’t there. Then, shaking his head, he remembered tipping the porter outside. He’d slipped his wallet into his coat pocket afterward. But when he checked his coat pocket, he found only lint.

Tracking quickly back through his mind, he remembered the dark-haired urchin who’d bumped into him on the platform. The little rat had stolen his wallet!

“You have your tickets, dear?”

Eldora nodded at the elderly Miss Mackenzie and patted her pocket. “Yes ma’am.” She returned her hand to Tick’s, whose little face looked pinched. On her other side, Celeste sat primly, her glossy black braids lying just so on her shoulders and her hands folded in her lap. She kept her scarf pulled high, and her beautiful blue eyes missed nothing of the bustle around them. Eldora couldn’t help but compare her to an exquisite china doll she’d once seen in a shop window. White skin, thick black lashes, sweet disposition, delicate nose, serene brow. She sighed. Nearly flawless.

“I hope you know I had nothing to do with this. My strenuous veto was overridden in the board meeting.” Miss Mackenzie fussed with her stole. “Those men can be so thickheaded. Mr. Korbin can be particularly trying.” Her mouth pinched. “What we need is a few more women on the board of directors. Then we’d see some progress. That’s one of the first things I intend to change.”

Miss Mackenzie sniffed and dabbed her nose with a lace handkerchief. “I can’t believe he just dumped you here. The least Mr. Korbin could’ve done was to see you onto the train and wait for your departure before running away.” She shifted, and the scent of lavender sachets drifted from her beaded dress.

Eldora breathed in. Her mother had used lavender, and the smell took Eldora right back to the time when she had been the doted-on daughter of two happy parents. She shrugged away the memory. “It’s all right. I do thank you for waiting with us though. I confess I’m rather nervous being in charge of three children all the way to Denver.” Eldora made another conscious effort to loosen her stomach muscles. Every time she stopped thinking about relaxing, the tension returned until her muscles trembled. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

Miss Mackenzie patted Eldora’s knee. “You’ll do just fine. And I told you, my nephew will be on the train, too. If you run into any trouble, or if you need anything, send for him.”

Her nephew, Sam Mackenzie. The nice young man who had given her the box of chocolates. Her imagination brought him instantly to view. His broad shoulders, his trim waist. Sandy-blond hair and tanned skin. And the kindest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

She could almost taste the chocolate caramel on her tongue and hear the excited squeals of the children when she’d shared the bounty. Each piece had been cut in two so there would be enough. For some, it was the first time they’d tasted such a treat, and for others, it brought back memories of better times, before the orphanage. Before oatmeal twice a day and cabbage and salt pork every evening.

“You have the letter to the Denver orphanage?”

Eldora suppressed a smile, knowing all this checking and rechecking was Miss Mackenzie’s way of assuring herself they would be fine. “Yes ma’am. Mr. Korbin gave it to me before he left, along with enough money to feed us on the trip.” The director had given her multiple warnings not to lose or squander the money. His voice held no confidence she could accomplish the task, something she feared he was correct in. She glanced once more at Celeste and then at Tick. She’d have to be a fool not to know Mr. Korbin was merely ridding himself of four problems, shunting them off to another orphanage because he didn’t want to deal with them anymore.

“When are we leaving?” Tick coughed and squirmed. “Will we really sleep on the train?” He coughed again and swiped at his nose with the heel of his hand.

“Sit still, young man.” Miss Mackenzie subdued him with a glance. “Children should be seen and not heard.”

Tick set his mouth in a mutinous line and stopped his squirming. Eldora patted his bony knee. She’d never subscribed to that old adage, since children often had excellent observations and thoughts to express. Though she believed in kind, respectful speech, she thought it wrong to stifle children in the presence of adults.

She glanced over her shoulder to where Phin was supposed to be watching over their single valise until the call to board. The valise sat alone, unguarded. Eldora drew her hands into fists. “Miss Mackenzie, will you wait here with the children? Phin seems to have wandered off.” She rose, not waiting for an answer, and hurried to their bag. Snatching it up, she spun and surveyed the room, looking for his lithe figure and dark hair. The little monster. He’d promised.

She took two steps toward the door marked To T
RAINS
when a commotion caught her eye. Several people surrounded a redheaded woman on a bench who appeared to be crying. Was she ill? A large woman wearing a porteress’s uniform parted the crowd. The waiting passengers seemed to draw a collective sigh at the sight of authority, and they began to disperse.

That’s when she spied Phin. He dangled from the grasp of a very angry Sam Mackenzie.

E
ldora ran across the waiting room, bumping into people and not stopping to apologize. The valise banged against her leg and collided with people in her haste, and she swept it up into her arms to keep from losing it altogether. “Sir, what are you doing?” The words burst from her as she skidded to a stop beside Mr. Mackenzie. “Put that child down.”

“Child? Hardly that. He stole my wallet.” The man lowered Phin until his feet touched the ground and shifted his grip from the boy’s arms to his collar. The man’s irate expression softened to surprised recognition. “Say, you’re the girl from the orphanage.”

While it was pleasant to be remembered, they had more important things to deal with. She turned her attention away from him to confront the boy. “Phin, you promised.”

The boy didn’t even have the grace to look abashed. He set his jaw and crossed his arms, glaring through his coltish forelock and leaning away from Mr. Mackenzie. “Turkeyhead, picking on a little kid. You gonna beat me, mister? A poor orphan?”

With a shake that made Phin’s forelock bounce, Mr. Mackenzie dragged them back toward one of the walls. “Little kid? You’ve got to be what, thirteen? Beyond old enough to know better. You’re fortunate I don’t call the authorities to deal with you.”

“I ain’t scared of you. Call them. I’d rather stay here in jail than get on the train anyway.”

Keeping an unrelenting grip on Phin’s collar, Mr. Mackenzie went through the boy’s pockets. In the last one, he found his own wallet. The lines alongside his mouth deepened. “I’m of a mind to turn you over and shake you just to make sure that’s all you’ve got on you.”

“You don’t scare me. I bet the matron could take you out with one whack of her brush.” Phin puffed up and took a swing at Mr. Mackenzie, but his arms were too short, and he flailed the air.

“Phin, enough.” Eldora wanted to shake the boy herself, though she’d breathed a sigh of relief that the wallet was all Phin had apparently stolen this time. “Please, Mr. Mackenzie, don’t call the authorities. I’m so sorry. Phin, apologize to Mr. Mackenzie so we can get on the train.”