Daniel watched as the gambler walked off. This adventure had remained exciting while Tyler Monteigne stayed with them. Now that they were on their own, he felt the first stirring of doubt and worry. He knew Evie better than anyone. She was beautiful and charming and had a way of twisting people around her little finger. She was also running as scared as he was. Daniel could understand why people didn't see that right off, but he'd thought Tyler was a little more perceptive. Maybe he was, and he just didn't want the responsibility of looking after two young people old enough to take care of themselves.
That meant they were really on their own. Squaring his shoulders, Daniel began the painful maneuver of ascending the stairs.
* * *
At almost this same time, Jonathan Hale, the lawyer, was standing before the unobtrusive St. Louis brick town house of one Delilah "Nanny" Witherspoon. Large shade trees up and down the street indicated the length of time this neighborhood had been established. The substantial homes, well-kept yards, and the scattering of carriage houses in the rear gave indication of the quiet wealth of the area. It was not precisely the kind of area Hale had expected to find a former mistress and her illegitimate child living in.
Revising that theory but not having a new one to put in its place, Hale attempted the discreet door knocker one more time. He had been here three days in a row at various times and had never caught anyone at home. There should at least be servants, he thought. But as in the previous days, no one answered the summons.
Much as he disliked the idea, he would have to start making inquiries. Glancing at the substantial home next door, he straightened his frock coat and set out in that direction. Someone, somewhere, had to know where to find Delilah Witherspoon. And he hoped that Mrs. Witherspoon would swiftly lead him to one Evangeline Peyton Howell. The Hardings were generously financing this expedition to St. Louis, but Hale had his own interest in the matter.
With eagerness, he pounded on the massive knocker of the house next door.
* * *
On the other side of the country, in a boardinghouse in San Francisco, a dark-haired gentleman contemplated a portrait hanging near the woodstove that heated the room. At one time the portrait had hung over a massive marble fireplace in the parlor downstairs, but the house had seen better days, and so had he.
His gaze returned to the crudely scratched letter in his hand. Angelina had always been a poor student, and the years spent raising that brood of children had not improved her handwriting. He had helped her when her husband was alive, when the money had been easy and plentiful. He felt a deep regret that he could do so little now that she was a widow. He felt a small rush of homesickness, but it had been a long, long time since he had been home. There had been no place for him back there. He had found a life here, but that life was almost over. Perhaps this letter meant it was time to go home.
Tears rimmed his eyes as he read the words over. He had been betrayed all those years ago, but he still couldn't help feeling the pain of the love he had carried with him ever since. Perhaps she had been right to betray him. Look at where he was now.
His fingers trembled as he read about the carriage accident that had sent his beloved into a river that wouldn't be considered a puddle anywhere else in the world. What kind of incompetent fool was her husband to allow the accident to happen? The man deserved to die, and he was glad to know he'd received his fitting punishment.
But she was still alive. She was ill and injured, but alive. Was it a sign? Was there some promise in it for him? Could he dare let himself hope after all these years?
He was being foolish. He was over forty and had spent nearly half his life out here. He had earned a certain amount of respect in this town. His talent had faded with his eyesight, but he lived comfortably enough. People accepted him for what he was here. He didn't have to endure the insults, the cold stares, the hatred that his ancestry earned back in Texas. Why should he ever return?
Because she was alive and her husband was dead. Because he had promised to return. Because he wanted to see her again, if only just one more time before he died. The longing was too strong to be denied. He had to see her.
Then his soul would rest in peace.
Chapter 13
Evie listened to her beginning students sing-songing the alphabet and almost felt contentment. She never felt better than when she looked over a sea of clean-scrubbed young faces and knew she was making a difference in their lives, however small that difference might be.
Glancing at the recalcitrant scowl on young Jose's face as he mouthed gibberish, she had to smile at how small a difference she made in some of her students. Jose apparently had the impression that real men didn't need book learning. The only reason he was here today was because his oldest sister threatened to beat him into sour mash if he didn't come.
Evie glanced to her older students who were supposed to be diligently composing an essay on why arithmetic was important in a modern world. Carmen had already completed her essay and was neatly penning it into perfect script on a clean sheet of paper. Most of the others were using the elbows of their shirtsleeves to erase the chalk on their slates for the first draft. It was amazing how two children from the same family could be so different.
The middle child from the Rodriguez family, Manuel, was nodding off behind a book he had carefully propped in front of him. He was a bright child and could do his work without help, he just seemed to have other interests that deprived him of his rest. She would have to look into that situation soon.
There was another situation she would have to look into soon, also, but it wasn't the kind of thing Evie wanted to think about on a beautiful spring day with the faces of innocent children turned on her. Her stomach tightened nervously at just the thought, and the pain lodged somewhere around her heart began to act up again. She couldn't think about it now. Wouldn't think about it.
As she dismissed the children for recess and began straightening up the room to the sounds of their cheerful cries, she let herself dwell on the few times she had seen Tyler recently.
She had scarcely seen him at all in these weeks since he had gone to stay with the Hardings. If she did, it was by accident. One time, she had been in the feed store inquiring about loose kernels of corn for an art project when Tyler walked in. He had been his usual charming self, offering to carry her parcels, walking her to the hotel, inviting her for coffee. But Mr. Averill's twins had been sitting on the hotel steps waiting for Evie, and the invitation had mysteriously disappeared.
Another time she had been in the company of Carmen and her baby sister, and Tyler had merely made polite noises and wandered off. She would never understand the man, and she didn't mean to try. It was the third time Evie had seen him that made her stick to her decision. He had been coming out of the saloon with one of the saloon girls on his arm. Evie knew the woman was a saloon girl even though she was wearing a dress a hundred times more respectable than the one Bessie had worn back in Natchez. Evie had made a point of getting to know the saloon girls, but Tyler didn't have to know that.
It had been impossible to disregard the look of satisfaction on Tyler's handsome face as he smiled down at the woman. He certainly hadn't looked like that when he'd jumped up and left Evie the morning after that disastrous night. Evie didn't even try to dissect her feelings on seeing that look. She had just walked up to greet Starr, said hello to Tyler, and watched surprise replace his smug satisfaction. It hadn't felt as good as she had hoped, but it was better than going back to her room and crying her eyes out.
There were hundreds of men in this town besides Tyler Monteigne. All she had to do was decide among them. None of them seemed particularly concerned about who her parents were or if they even existed. It wasn't the same as St. Louis society at all.
But knowing that she could literally pick and choose among all the single men in town left Evie thoroughly disinterested in the process. It had been a challenge before, forcing men to look at her and acknowledge she was just as good as every other woman in the room. She had enjoyed the challenge, but she had never wanted the prize that had to be won in such a manner. Now she didn't even have the challenge to look forward to. It was perverse of her, she knew, but she couldn't figure out what she would do with any of the men if she caught them.
Perhaps when Mr. Hale returned and she found out who her parents were, she would feel more secure and everything would change. She might even return to St. Louis. That thought brought a frown to Evie's face as the children obediently trampled back in at the sound of the bell she was ringing.
There wouldn't be money to return to St. Louis unless something happened soon. The hotel was eating into their funds, and there didn't seem to be an inexpensive place to rent anywhere in town. People didn't leave Mineral Springs. They built their houses and moved in to stay.
She would check at the general store after school and see if the mail had arrived yet. She and Daniel had arranged for their mail and Nanny's to be forwarded here, but so far there hadn't been anything. The month was up. There ought to be another check. She prayed that no one had heard of Nanny's death yet. Without those monthly allowances, they could be starving shortly.
The day had grown warm by the time classes were dismissed. Evie cleaned up the room and straightened the desks. Assured everything was in its proper order for the morrow, she hurried out into the bright Texas sun. She might never get used to the seemingly endless parade of sunshine, even in spring. A wind caught her skirt and whipped it around her ankles, and Evie glanced at the horizon. Perhaps some end to the sun was in sight. A dark cloud spread across the distant sky.
The clerk at the general store shook his head when Evie inquired about mail, and dispirited, she started back to the hotel. Dust swirled up out of the street, and she stayed on the boardwalk to keep her petticoat clean. Even laundering their clothes had become an expensive proposition. They would have to do something soon.
Evie visited the privy first, ascertained that her time of month still hadn't come, and feeling even more depressed, climbed the stairs to wash in the lukewarm water in the stand beside her bed.
Perhaps she ought to check and see if Mr. Hale had returned yet. She looked hopefully toward the window, but she could only see the cloud moving closer. It looked is if it were raining farther up the river. That's just what she needed when she was feeling like this—rain.
She couldn't visit the lawyer's office so soon after last time. People would grow suspicious. Maybe Daniel would have heard something. All the news went to the paper office eventually.
If only she had some means of cooking meals, they wouldn't have to spend so much money at the cafe. Checking the coins in their private hoard, Evie calculated how many they would need to eat for the next week. If they just had soup until Friday, there would be sufficient means to pay another week's rent on their rooms.
They would have to go back to sharing a room, or Evie would have to stay with the parents of her students. Putting the purse back in the drawer, she heard Daniel's limping footsteps down the hall. They had discussed the question before, but neither of them could agree on the solution. This time, they would have to come up with answers.
"We're in for a downpour Mr. Averill says," Daniel announced as he entered without knocking. "My leg itches like hell, so he's most likely right."
"Daniel!" Evie frowned at this use of a word for which Nanny would have washed out his mouth with soap.
Daniel shrugged and sprawled in the chair beside the bed. "Everyone says it. You don't want people to think I'm a girl, do you?"
Daniel's rebellion was just one more headache added o the list of headaches Evie was already dealing with. She wasn't used to everything going wrong at once. Actually, she wasn't used to anything going wrong, ever. Nanny had always seen that everything in their lives went smoothly. There hadn't been much she could do about Evie's parentage or Daniel's limp, but beyond that they had lived relatively uneventful lives.
And now they were almost broke, she might be pregnant, and Daniel—her best friend—was turning rebellious. The simplest thing to do would be to break down and cry.
Before she could do so, the heavens did it for her. Rain crashed against the hotel's tin roof, and they both ran to the window to see their first Texas storm.