Denver (26 page)

He leaned toward her, realized what he was doing, and stood up abruptly. “I need to go home now.”

She followed him to the door, and both of them were silent. Dan was shaken by what he had seen and felt. She was Silas’ girl. His best friend. And he would soon be engaged, but at the moment it was difficult to think of Louisa. He yanked on his coat.

“Good night, Mary,” he said abruptly, and left.

“Good night,” she answered quietly. She was aware that he had felt the same thing she did. She watched him ride away, and closed the door. In the parlor she gazed into the fire. “Silas, you should have come home to me,” she whispered, feeling an empty longing, knowing the man in her thoughts wasn’t Silas. It was Dan.

For the next week Dan avoided the O’Malleys. They had four walls, floors, and a roof. He still had to take care of the finishing touches on the inside of the house and the porch, but he found one reason after another to postpone going to work there. And he wouldn’t think back about the last evening with Mary. When she came to mind, and she did with astounding regularity, he put her abruptly out of thought.

On Friday evening during the first week of April, as he stood in the parlor of the Parsons’ home near the fire, he swore to Louisa as he watched Reuben approach: “Dammit, Reuben Knelville is your shadow. That ends when we marry.”

“Jealous?” Louisa asked with a pleased smile. “Hello, Reuben.”

“Hello, Louisa, Mr. Castle. Will we meet your family at the wedding, Castle?”

“You’ll meet some of them.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had relatives here in Denver. As a matter of fact, I didn’t know you claimed
any
relatives.”

“Of course he has relatives. He has a brother in San Antonio who’s a lawyer,” Louisa said smugly.

“What’s this I hear about a horse-car line to some of the new homes?” Dan asked.

“There’s talk about it,” Reuben answered. “It’s proposed to run from the center of town on Larimer out to Twenty-sixth or Twenty-seventh and Champa. So you have a brother who is a lawyer,” Reuben said,
returning to the subject. His eyes were bright and curious, and Dan wanted to swear. The last thing he wanted was Reuben Knelville checking into his background. It wouldn’t take long for him to uncover the truth.

“I know some San Antonio lawyers. What is his name? I can’t recall one named Castle.”

“It’s a half-brother,” Louisa said. She seemed happy to throw the information in Reuben’s face, while Dan wished she would let it drop and avoid telling Reuben anything.

“Oh, and what is this half-brother’s name?” he asked in a haughty tone.

“Luke Danby,” Dan answered, wondering if his future would hang on his reply. If Knelville investigated Luke’s life and asked enough questions, he would soon know all about Dan’s past. And with Hattie living in San Antonio with Luke, discovering the truth would be even easier. “And where are you from, Reuben? Denver hasn’t been here long enough for you to have grown up here.”

“We came from St. Louis. My father was one of the first to find silver. Real estate is his keen interest now, of course.”

“ ’Evening, Marvella,” Dan said, catching her arm as she passed.

She smiled at him, her eyelashes fluttering. “Mr. Castle! Hello, Louisa, Mr. Knelville.”

“And where are you from, Marvella?” Dan asked, knowing Marvella would be unable to resist pouring her attention on Reuben. Tall and willowy, with a long nose and a high voice that sounded more like a two-year-old child, she gave her attention to Reuben. And he seemed happy to give his attention back to her. In minutes Dan was able to ease Louisa away from Reuben, but several times during the evening Dan caught Reuben’s curious eyes studying him.

On the way home in the carriage, Louisa turned to him. “Where are your thoughts?” she asked. “They’re not on me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to pull her into his
arms. “I was thinking about work. And you’ve had all the attention you could ever dream of wanting tonight. Reuben couldn’t leave your side. If men still fought duels, I’d have already had one over you. Reuben would have challenged me or given me a challenge I couldn’t have refused.”

“I think a duel would be incredibly exciting!”

“That’s because you’re a bloodthirsty little witch,” he said softly in a husky voice, kissing her throat.

She murmured and wound her fingers in his hair. Suddenly she pushed him away and pouted. “You can’t touch me or come near me, Dan Castle, if you call me names like bloodthirsty witch!”

He chuckled. “Bloodthirsty,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her. “Witch,” he said, trailing his kisses to her throat. He pulled her on his lap, and was thankful he had had the foresight to buy such an elegant carriage that gave them complete privacy. He kissed her passionately, pressing her against him. His hands worked at the fastenings on her dress until finally her breasts were free and he could fondle her.

“Dan! You mustn’t,” she protested. She sat up and moved to her corner, but Dan knew her protests were merely a game. He leaned forward, slipping his fingers beneath her dress at the neckline, pushing aside the material before Louisa could button it. Dan cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over the nipple, and she gasped, closing her eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her, pushing her back against the corner of the carriage, his hand slipping beneath her skirt to caress her legs.

By the time she sat up and told him to stop, he was burning with passion. As he watched her straighten her clothes, he tried to imagine her without them on. And as he watched Louisa, he thought of Mary, who would never tease and torment him simply for her own enjoyment.

He kissed Louisa good night, then turned his carriage toward Holladay, unable to resist going to see Dulcie.

The following Monday, Dan had a meeting in which he would present his plans and drawings to Benjamin Corning. He had already finished Lester Potter’s house, and had appointments to discuss plans with Edward Ringwood and Jay Varner.

As he rode in his carriage, excitement gripped him. Sunshine spilled over the busy, prospering town. The saloons and the stores were filled with customers, and businessmen strode along the street. Dan found Denver exciting. There was a transient population of prospectors, of disillusioned men returning home, and of travelers headed east or west. Dulcie’s house did a lot of business, and Dan hoped this was the start of a successful career for him in this city. The only troublesome aspect was Reuben Knelville, who could so easily unearth Dan’s past. He pulled his carriage to a halt to jump down and tuck the rolled drawings under his arm.

As he was ushered into Corning’s office, Dan took a deep breath. He felt as if his entire future depended on this man’s decision. If Corning and Ringwood both refused his services, he didn’t think other wealthy men would seek his business.

Tall, black-haired, and solemn, Corning came forward to greet him, shaking hands and offering Dan a chair. His manner was brisk and cool.

“How’s your work going?”

“Fine. I’ve just finished Lester Potter’s house.”

“How did you get into this business, Mr. Castle?” Corning asked, sitting down behind his desk.

“I’ve worked with others in California.”

“Where’s your home?”

“My family—what’s left of it—lives in Texas,” he answered evenly. He wondered if Reuben had talked to Corning, because never before had he inquired about Dan’s past.

“Why didn’t you want to stay in Texas?”

“I wanted to prospect, and when I hit a vein, I gathered up enough funds to go into business. Silas Eustice mined with me, and he constantly told me about
the glories of Denver. So I decided to come here and see if it was all he claimed.”

“I really prefer to have references from places you’ve worked in years past.”

“I can give you Lester Potter’s reference. Other than that, I’d have to write to people I worked for long ago in California.”

“Mr. Castle,” Corning interrupted with barely a glance at the plans, “to save time, because I know you’re a busy man and I’m busy, I’ll pay you for your services to date. Mrs. Corning and I have decided to wait before we build.”

Dan thought of the hours of labor he had poured into the plans and drawings, and the expectations he had for this project. He wanted to argue, to show every irresistible detail to Corning, but he knew the uselessness of such a gesture.

“I’d like an opportunity to at least show the plans to you.”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“Would it help to send to California for references?” Dan asked in a quiet voice.

Corning shrugged. “I need to know more than that about a man before I invest my money in his work. It’s a matter of trust,” he said coldly.

“I’ll send you a bill, sir.”

“Fine.” Corning stood up, signaling the meeting was over.

“I’d appreciate your business and would like to discuss plans with you when you do decide to build.”

“Of course.”

“Good day to you, sir.”

Outside, Dan wanted to smash the plans and grind them into the dirt. He wondered if Reuben Knelville was behind the difficulty. He swore under his breath, flung the plans into his carriage, and had started to climb up when he glanced across the street at a saloon. He turned around and strode over, going into the darkened interior of the Missouri House. He spotted Paddy O’Malley at the bar and went to stand beside him.

“Good morning, Paddy. I’ll have a whiskey,” he
told the barkeep, who set a tumbler of water, a bottle of whiskey, and another tumbler on the bar.

“Good morning, my boy. Mary sent me out early this morning. Today she shops for supplies. I’ve already gotten my supplies.” He patted his middle, and Dan saw a bottle tucked into his waistband. “That’s fortification. This can turn the coldest day into spring.”

An hour later Dan rode home to go back to work on plans he had drawn for Edward Ringwood and Jay Varner.

Five nights later he paced in Dulcie’s room. “I will wager Knelville is behind this. Neither Corning nor Varner would even look at my drawings. They paid the fee and said no.”

“Dan, there are other men in the world besides Benjamin Corning and that Varner. You said you’re drawing up plans for another wealthy man.”

“Yes. I hope Knelville can’t influence him.”

“You didn’t tell me about Reuben Knelville before tonight.”

Dan paused, lowering his glass of brandy to the table. He had a blanket wrapped around him, and Dulcie lay propped against the pillows, covers to her waist, her breasts bare.

“There wasn’t any reason to tell you about him. Do you know him, Dulcie?” Dan asked, studying her. She averted her gaze, something as uncharacteristic of her as fainting spells.

He sat up, and a prickle ran across the back of his neck. Dulcie knew everything about him. “You’re seeing him.”

She didn’t answer, and he moved to the bed to sit down. “Look at me, Dulcie. You’re seeing him.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know he knew you or wanted information about you.”

“Did you give him any?”

“No. Dan, I swear I didn’t. I wouldn’t ever do that.”

“What did he want to know?”

“He wanted to know if I had known you in the past—”

“You’re seeing other men now, aren’t you?” He gave her a level look as he interrupted her.

She raised her chin and stared back at him. “Yes. I was meant to have a man around, and you’re not here often.”

He turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Sorry, Dulcie. I don’t have any claim on you. I forfeited that when I asked Louisa to marry me.”

Silence stretched between them, and finally she spoke. “You could have a claim again, Dan.”

He turned to look at her, seeing the longing in her eyes. He thought of Louisa and stroked Dulcie’s cheek, gazing beyond her as he thought of Mary O’Malley.

“To hell with you,” she said mildly, pushing him away. “You’re in love. I can see it.”

“Go ahead and tell me about Reuben.”

“He asked me about when I met you. How and where. I told him Montana in the gold fields, but that’s all.” She sat up suddenly to hug him. “Dan, I’ll never give away your past.”

He hugged her, feeling her softness. The blanket fell away when he released his grip on its folds, and Dulcie’s body was warm and bare in his arms. He pushed her down on the bed. “Don’t tell Reuben Knelville one damned thing about me.”

He kissed away her answer, hoping he was safe with her, knowing a mere promise wouldn’t bind her.

Monday night Dan went to work at the O’Malleys’. When he came in the back door, the night was chilly and a fire burned on the hearth. Mary turned to greet him, her eyes lighting and her cheeks turning pink.

“Dan! This is a surprise!”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy on other things, and I know you have four walls and won’t freeze. How are you, Mary?” he asked quietly, his gaze sweeping over her. She was self-conscious with him and he felt a sense of restraint with her which he didn’t feel with other women. It was so good to see her, though, and he realized how much he had missed her.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I don’t need to eat.”

“Oh, no! I can get it out quickly.” She turned to open the cabinet and take down dishes. “I can heat something in just a few minutes,” she said. Her heart pounded, and she didn’t know what she was saying to him. He stood in the doorway watching her, arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

“I’ll go to work, Mary,” he said gruffly, and strode past her. She heard his boots fade and stared after him. It was so good to see him, but she knew his work would be finished soon and he wouldn’t need to come back. She tried not to think about that, and turned back to put another log in the stove and bring covered bowls in off the cold porch to reheat food from supper.

She didn’t eat with Dan, but served him. She stayed in the kitchen while he ate, staring at the door and wishing she were out there with him, yet knowing she shouldn’t be. She picked up a pitcher of milk and went into the dining room.

“Would you care for more milk?”

“Sit down, Mary,” he ordered. “You don’t have anything to do in the kitchen. How’s Brian?”

“He’s fine. He’s been coming home quite regularly now. I hear you’re not building Benjamin Corning’s new house.”