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He chuckled bitterly. “I'm not selling the saloon, Natalie.”

She smiled. “Stop teasing.”

He pulled back on the reins and halted the carriage. “Listen to me now. I didn't go to San Francisco to sell the Union. I'm not going to sell the Union.”

She looked startled. “You're serious.”

“Just as I've always been.”

“But I want you to.”

“I understand that, but I don't want to. If I sell my source of income, who's going to pay for all the hats and gowns you care so much about?”

“Papa says you're one of the richest men in the state. You have stocks and property.”

“And once I go through all that providing for you, then what?”

“A man is supposed to defer to his wife,” she said accusingly. “And make her happy.”

“Then maybe you need to marry someone else, Natalie.”

“I'm the last of my friends to become engaged, the gossips will have a field day if I call it off. Take me home please.”

He set the carriage in motion. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached her house, he handed her down. “Natalie, I will marry you, care for you, and provide for you, but I will not sell my business for you.”

“Let me know when you have time to accompany me to Vera's.” And she walked off and left him standing by the carriage.

He waited until she was inside before driving away. He needed a drink.

S
ylvia was right about there not being any food left over after dinner. Miner Gabe Horne was short and stocky. He appeared to be only a few years older than Eddy but seemed so shy he wouldn't hold her gaze more than a second or two. He ate silently but upon leaving said, “Nice to meet you, Miss Eddy. Good food. Next time, cook more please.”

The other boarder, young August Reynolds, the hotel dishwasher, was a tall, lean beanpole of a man who after eating his fill of the fish, vegetables, and biscuits, said to her, “Miss Eddy, not even the International Hotel serves food this good. Once word gets around, they're going to want to hire you.”

“I'm only working for Miss Sylvia.”

“Good to know because I'll enjoy coming home each evening to the way you cook.”

Eddy liked the two men. However, the third boarder, Whitman Brown, was another story. He came in after the other two had gone up to their rooms. He was bright-­skinned and annoying. “I'm a pretty important man around here,” he announced when she placed his plate on the table in front of him. “I handle all the Colored accounts at one of the banks.”

“That's nice.”

“I'm also the Baptist preacher here.”

“Miss Sylvie told me.”

“Are you a churchgoing woman?”

“No.” And after meeting him, even if she had been, she wouldn't be attending any services he conducted. She didn't care for his pompous manner. Before she could politely excuse herself, he went on to tell her about being from Cleveland, attending Howard College, and having previously worked at the Freedman's bank. She decided it would be rude to ask if he was one of the men responsible for its inept operation.

“I need to get back to the kitchen,” she said finally in the middle of him telling her again about his important duties at the bank.

Later that evening, as she sat on the back porch with Sylvia drinking lemonade, she asked, “Is Mr. Brown always such a blowhard?”

“Always. And he's convinced he's better than the rest of us poor Coloreds because of his bright skin. Says his mother won't allow him to propose to anyone darker than a brown paper bag, so he's still unmarried.”

After listening to his inflated opinions of himself, she didn't find that surprising. The brown paper bag test was well-­known. Eddy always saw it as both shameful and ridiculous. The bigotry practiced by those outside the race was harmful enough without bigotry being meted out by those within.

After Sylvie excused herself to go inside and write a letter to her brother back East, Eddy reviewed her evening. She was pleased that her food had been so well received and that she hadn't burned anything. It would take her a little while to learn all the ins and outs on the stove, but she knew becoming completely comfortable with it would only be a matter of time. Being healed up and back on her feet made her feel good as well. She felt as if she'd been bedridden for years.

Her thoughts then turned to Rhine Fontaine. His invitation to dinner had been surprising and, yes, insulting, if she were being truthful. Did he believe she thought so little of herself that she'd keep time with a man engaged to be married? She supposed with his looks and money some women might have jumped at the chance to take him up on the offer, but she was not one of them. Did he often dally with women outside his race? Was he one of those men who slaked their lust with women of color but treated their own women like fragile regal queens? Was that why he proposed what he had? Eddy doubted she'd ever get answers to the questions, but decided she was okay with the not knowing. Her new life didn't include him anyway.

S
till in need of that drink, Rhine threaded his way through the Union's evening crowd. Behind the bar his young bartender, Kenton “Kent” Randolph, looked up from the drink he was pouring for his father, Dr. Oliver Randolph, and smiled. “Evenin', Rhine. Where've you been?” Kent asked.

Rhine could barely hear him over the noise.

“Took Natalie to dinner.” And had his ego filleted by one Eddy Carmichael. Rhine went behind the bar and took down a bottle of bourbon. As he treated himself to a healthy portion, he glanced curiously between father and son. The Randolph men were so estranged these days, he was surprised they weren't shouting at each other, which was their usual means of conversing. “How are you, Doc?” Rhine asked.

“Doing just fine, Rhine. You boys ready to get whipped on Friday?”

The doctor was referring to the annual baseball game between the Colored Republicans and the Whites. His teasing added another barb to an already trying day. “How about letting us play with fifteen men?” Rhine asked.

Kenton laughed. “Your side could play with thirty and we'd still whip you.”

Doc chuckled, raised his glass of gin, and drifted off into the crowd.

Rhine asked Kent, “You two make peace?”

Kent put the top back on his father's favorite gin. “Hell, no. He's a customer. I'm the barkeep. As long as he's not telling me how to handle my life, I don't have to tell him to mind his own business.”

An amused Rhine thought that made sense. Kent was eighteen. His father wanted him to go back East to medical school so Kent could take over his clients once he retired. All Kent wanted was to be a rancher. They'd been arguing over the matter for the past six months. Rhine was friends with them both so he stayed out it. “I'm heading up to my office. Anything I need to know?”

“Edgar Carter wants to rent the place in a few weeks to celebrate him and his wife's thirty years of marriage. I told him I'd talk to you and let him know.”

Edgar was the barber who cut Micah and Christian's hair. Rhine made a note to ride over to the orphanage to see how the twins had been behaving while he was away. “Does Edgar have a date in mind?” The Union Saloon also served as a social hall for the city's Colored community, being the only venue in Virginia City they were allowed to use for such celebratory purposes.

“I wrote it down. It's on your desk.”

“Okay, as long as there's nothing else going on, I don't see why he can't.”

“I told him that, too.”

Rhine saluted him with his glass and headed to the kitchen.

Jim Dade looked up from the pots he was washing at the large sink. “How was dinner?”

“Long. Why did I propose to Natalie?”

Jim stopped, gave him a look, and went back to the pots. “I asked you that question six months ago.”

Rhine sighed. “I'm hoping she breaks things off before I lose my mind and have to be sold to the circus.”

Jim laughed softly.

“It's not funny.”

“Sure it is. Sometimes you can be brilliant as the sun—­like having us install the new gaslighting—­and other times you're dumber than the bacon in the cold box, like proposing to her.”

Rhine saw no sense in arguing with the truth, so he took a draw from his glass instead. “And I saw Eddy today.”

“How is our little lady?”

“Doing well. She sends her regards. I asked her to have dinner with me.”

Jim spun. “What?”

Rhine tried to explain himself. “It wasn't something I planned to do. One minute I was talking to her and the next minute . . . God, Jim she's so beautiful. Tough as nails, too.”

“So what did she say?” Jim asked pointedly.

“Asked me if I was inviting Natalie along with us.”

Jim laughed so loud the walls rang. When he recovered he tossed out, “Cut you off at the knees, hey pretty boy?”

“Yes, and she didn't even need to use the fish knife she had in her hand.”

“I knew I liked her.” He then turned serious. “You know she's not for you.”

“I do.”

“Then let her be.”

“I'm trying.”

“Try harder. She's a nice girl, Rhine. Don't mess things up for her here.”

Rhine sighed aloud in frustration and regret.

“Unless you're going to toss Natalie aside and tell Eddy who you really are.”

Rhine saw the seriousness in his partner's gaze. Outside of his siblings, Jim was the only person who knew his true heritage.

When he didn't respond, Jim said, “Then go get drunk.”

Rhine toasted him with the glass. “Thanks. I think I will.”

Chapter Eight

S
ylvia's dining room would be opening to the public that evening, so Eddy began preparations before dawn. There were cakes to make and chickens to pluck. She peeled potatoes and shucked corn and sat outside with a bowl in her lap and shelled peas. By the time she took the cornbread out of the oven just before the diners arrived, she was more tired than she'd imagined she'd be. Luckily, she didn't have to serve, too. Sylvia had hired help for that, a Paiute woman named Maria Valdez and her adolescent sons, Jonas and Wilson. The Indian family was both friendly and efficient.

The number of diners was small, but like the boarders, must have found the food very much to their liking because Maria kept coming into the kitchen for more servings. At one point Eddy told her, “This is the very last piece of cornbread, Maria.”

“Mr. Granger the fishmonger isn't going to be happy, but I'll let him know.”

Sylvia came in while Eddy was slicing the last cake. “Eddy, honey. The people want to meet you.”

Eddy glanced down at the food-­stained apron covering her skirt and blouse.

Sylvia wouldn't let her beg off. “Just come. It'll only be for a minute or two.”

Giving her hands a quick rinse under the tap, Eddy stepped out into the dining room. Boisterous applause greeted her entrance, which filled her with both embarrassment and appreciation. Carpenter Zeke Reynolds was among them and she sent him a shy smile. Then one by one the diners introduced themselves, telling her how much they enjoyed the food and welcoming her to Virginia City. She already knew Mr. Granger and Zeke, but she didn't know the others and hoped she'd remember their names. She would, however, remember this special evening and how they made her feel. They promised to spread the word about her great cooking and that they'd be back on Sunday with friends.

As people paid their bills and departed, Eddy began clearing the tables. Zeke walked over to her. “I may have to marry you, little lady. Your food was outstanding.”

Eddy laughed. “Is that the only qualification you're looking for in a wife, Mr. Reynolds?”

“Call me Zeke.”

She nodded. “Okay, Zeke. Is it?”

“Hmm. Let's see, good cook, beautiful, well spoken, likes baseball.”

Eddy chuckled. He was indeed a charmer. “I need to get back to work.”

“I understand.” But for a moment he simply stood there, his interest in her on full display. “I'll see you at the big game.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

Basking in her triumphant first outing and brimming with happiness over the nice encounter with Zeke, she joined Maria and her sons in the kitchen for the cleanup. When all the dishes and pots were put in their places, they went home. Maria did the housekeeping so she'd be back in the morning.

On the heels of their departure a smiling Sylvia breezed into the kitchen. “You made the house quite a bit of money this evening, Eddy Carmichael.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And the food was delicious. My old cook was good but he can't hold a candle to you.”

It had been a long time since Eddy had been praised for anything, and she hadn't realized how much she'd been craving a kind word until then. “I enjoyed myself.”

“So did the men, especially Zeke. I saw him talking to you.”

“He's nice.”

“That he is. Did I mention he was unattached?”

Eddy laughed. “Yes, Sylvie, you did.”

“I wasn't sure. Now, did you get a chance to eat?”

“Yes, ma'am, I did.”

“Then go on up to your room and get some rest, you've earned it.”

“I'm going to get the kitchen ready for breakfast in the morning and then go up.”

“Okay. So pleased to have you here, honey.”

“Thank you.”

“After breakfast in the morning, I'm going to visit the orphanage to talk to Sister Mary about fund-­raising. Would you like to come along?”

“I would.”

Sylvia nodded and left Eddy alone. Still buoyed by her success, she stepped outside into the fresh air and drew in a deep breath. She'd start her preparations for breakfast in a moment. Off to the west the sun was slowly sliding towards the horizon, tinting the sky with the reds and grays of evening. After all she'd been through in the past few weeks, she finally felt like her world had settled. She had a nice place to live, a landlady she adored, and most importantly she was earning a wage with her cooking. Now all she had to do was save up enough to restart her journey to California. Meeting Zeke was also something positive. Even though she had no plans to stay in Virginia City, it might be nice to spend time with a gentleman whose interest was more easily encouraged than Rhine Fontaine's. The thought instantly brought the face of the handsome saloon owner to mind. Determined not to dwell on him, she went back inside and began the preparations for breakfast.

F
riday morning, after breakfast with Jim, Rhine drove to the orphanage. He hadn't visited since returning from San Francisco and he wanted to see how his favorite set of twins were doing. As soon as he parked they tore down the front steps to greet him.

“Miss Mary has some crates at the freight office,” Christian told him excitedly. “She said it's okay if we ride with you to go get them. Can we go?”

The earnest plea on his face made Rhine chuckle. “Why aren't you in school today?”

Micah explained. “Mr. Reinhart is sick so there's nobody to teach us.”

Reinhart was the school's only teacher. “How about I go in and speak with Miss Mary first. I don't want to find out later that you're pulling my leg.”

Micah looked surprised. “We wouldn't do that.”

Rhine was fairly sure the boy was right, but who would've thought he and his brother would pay a visit to Lady Ruby's chicken coop in the middle of the night? “Are you off punishment now?” he asked as they accompanied him up the steps.

“Yes,” Christian replied proudly. “We get dessert today.”

“Congratulations.”

“But Miss Willa Grace went to visit her sister, so we have to wait until she gets back.”

Rhine found Mary in her large book-­lined office and she corroborated the boys' story about the crates. “The orphanage has been adopted by a Methodist church in Sacramento and the crate contains donations of some kind. I'd really appreciate it if you'd pick it up and bring it back.”

“Is it okay if the twins go, too?”

“Please. Mr. Reinhart's been ill since the day you left for San Francisco, and with Willa Grace away, I'm at my wit's end trying to keep up with them.”

“No pranks?”

“None.”

“That's good to hear.”

“The day's still young, Mr. Fontaine. I'm taking them to see Vera at ten for fittings.”

He laughed and left the office to collect the twins.

“
W
hen was the orphanage founded?” Eddy asked as Sylvia drove them through the streets to the orphanage.

“About three years ago.” She went on to tell Eddy about Mary's battle with her Order.

“I like Mary already,” Eddy said. “Standing up to bigotry is an admirable thing.”

“Yes it is. It's my understanding that the Mother Superior was very surprised by her challenge though.”

“I'm surprised, too. I always assumed nuns to be meek little things.”

“Not the nuns that taught me back home in Baltimore.”

“You were taught by nuns?”

“Yes, at St. Francis Academy. It was founded by a woman from Haiti named Mother Elizabeth Lange. She started the Oblate Sisters of Providence, the first order of Black Catholic nuns in the country.”

“I've never heard of her.”

“Many people haven't but she's dedicated her life to serving young people enslaved, free, immigrant, and poor. The sisters at St. Francis gave me an excellent education, so I help out at the orphanage in their honor.”

As Eddy and Sylvia climbed the mansion's steps, Eddy was surprised at the size of the place.

“It used to belong to one of the mining kings,” Sylvie explained.

The door chime was answered by a young girl Sylvie introduced to Eddy as Susannah Bird.

“Pleased to meet you, Susannah.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, Miss Cunningham. I'll get Miss Mary.”

When Mary arrived, she ushered them into her office. The reason for the visit was to discuss the orphanage's ongoing need for funds. Although there were only four children currently in residence, they had to be fed and clothed and the mansion had to be maintained. The women discussed selling dinners and having a charity baseball game.

After listening quietly for a few moments, Eddy asked, “Have you ever considered having a services auction?”

Mary and Sylvia turned, their faces curious. “Explain that, please,” Mary asked.

“Let's say Miss Vera asks for bids on having a gown made. Zeke Reynolds might offer carpentry work. Maybe Mr. Granger could put up a mess of fish, or I could offer to make a fancy meal.”

Sylvia's face brightened. “What great idea. Edgar could offer haircuts. I could have people bid on a Sunday dinner—­which you would cook of course, Eddy.”

Eddy chuckled, “Of course.”

Mary eyed Eddy appreciatively. “Have you worked on an event like this before?”

“No, but the hotel where I worked in Denver hosted something similar. The sponsoring group was raising money for a hospital.”

Mary asked, “I think people here would enjoy this. Do you have time to be in charge?”

Eddy looked to her employer. After all, this might take time away from her job. Upon receiving an enthusiastic nod, the planning began.

U
sing a dolly he borrowed from the freight office, Rhine, accompanied by the twins, managed to haul the large crate up the mansion's steps to the front door. He didn't know what was inside, but it was extremely heavy and he hoped the contents were worth the effort. Mopping the perspiration from his brow, he waited for the door chime to be answered. Susannah appeared and backed up so he could maneuver the dolly inside. The twins followed.

“My goodness!” Mary exclaimed upon coming out of her office and seeing the huge wooden crate.

Rhine opened his mouth to respond but the words died in his throat when he saw Eddy standing there with Sylvie. Caught off guard yet pleasantly surprised, he fought to keep his tone neutral. “I didn't know you ladies were here. Good morning.”

“Morning to you, too, Rhine,” Sylvie said.

“Hello, Mr. Fontaine,” Eddy responded.

“Miss Carmichael.”

Vowing to be on his best behavior and not make a fool of himself like he had he last time they were together, he reluctantly but smoothly moved his attention from her and over to Mary and Sylvie inspecting the mail stamps on the crate.

Mary said, “I wonder what could be inside?”

Rhine turned to the twins. “Micah, would you and Christian go look through the toolbox Mr. Zeke uses when he's here and see if there's a crowbar inside?”

Eager to help, they took off at a run, only to have Rhine, Mary, and Sylvie call out in unison, “Walk!”

They slowed and Rhine savored Eddy's responding smile. Forcing himself to look away and concentrate on maneuvering the crate off the dolly, he wondered if this was her first visit. Sylvia was a staunch supporter of Mary's efforts. Had she convinced Eddy to become involved as well? He spent a great deal of time at the orphanage. If she planned to do the same, his efforts to ignore her allure were going to be even more difficult.

“Rhine,” Sylvie said, “Eddy has come up with a fine plan for this year's fund-­raiser.”

“What is it?” he asked after thanking the twins with a nod and taking the crowbar in hand. While Sylvie explained, he began prying the crate open.

When she finished, he was impressed with the novel idea. “I agree that it's a fine plan, and if you need any help, Miss Carmichael, I'm at your service.”

“Thank you. I'll keep that in mind.”

They were interrupted by the ring of the door pull. Susannah, who'd been standing with Lin and watching him work on the crate, hurried to the door. She returned with Doc Randolph.

“Oh, good, Sylvie You're here,” the doctor said, sounding relieved. “Jed Pentwater said Amelia's baby's on the way and they need you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have your bag?”

“No, Oliver. Midwives always leave their bags at home.”

His jaw tensed and his eyes flashed.

“I don't care if you're offended. I'm offended that you asked such a silly question after knowing me all these years.” She turned to Rhine. “Will you make sure Eddy gets back?”

“Of course.” Seeing Eddy open her mouth to undoubtedly protest the arrangements, he smiled inwardly, but Sylvie was already on her way to the door with the grumbling Doc Randolph. Eddy shot him one of her now familiar exasperated glares. He dearly wanted to tell her just how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of those glares of hers, but he was supposed to be behaving himself so he said nothing.

The crate held lots and lots of mismatched dishes and even more pots and pans—­all packed in a mound of sawdust that spilled everywhere when Mary and Eddy began the unloading. In addition to the pots and pans and tableware, there was a lovely cut-­glass punch bowl along with matching cups and dessert plates.

“This is beautiful,” Mary said in an awed whisper. The twins were skating on the dust as if it were ice. Mary viewed them with an amused shake of her head, then checked the small timepiece pinned to her blouse. “The children and I are due at Vera's shortly. The rest of this unpacking will have to wait until later.”

“I can finish the unpacking if you don't mind me staying,” Eddy said to her. “I just need to know where everything goes. I'll wash the things first before putting them away of course.”