The Bride's House (23 page)

“I don’t want to,” Frank said.

Pearl drew in her breath at the words. Then thinking she had misunderstood, she repeated. “I am perfectly all right, Mr. Curry.”

But Frank did not let go. “Of course you are. Everything about you is all right.”

Pearl only stared at him, confused, looking for an explanation, telling herself Frank surely was talking about her health, but she hoped he meant more. After all, he had said such lovely things at the zoo the day before.

The young man gripped her arms tighter. “Miss Dumas—Pearl. May I call you Pearl?”

“Yes,” she answered tentatively.

“You are the finest young woman I know. I’ve never met anyone like you. I knew that first day, when you opened the door and let me into your home, that you were someone I could care about. And I do care about you. In fact, I believe I love you.” He paused a second. “I mean I do love you.”

Pearl stood so still that it was as if she no longer breathed.

“Might I hope you could feel the same way about me?” Frank continued.

He looked into Pearl’s eyes, waiting for her to reply. But all Pearl could say was, “I…” and she grew mute. Her heart and tongue did not seem able to work together, and she felt all-overish. She turned away from Frank and began wringing her hands. “I…” she said, and was mum again.

“I hadn’t planned to declare myself just yet. After all, we’ve known each other only a few months. But something made me say it. Besides, what’s the reason to wait? I don’t want someone else to claim you. Surely you have other suitors.”

“But I haven’t,” Pearl told him.

Her lack of guile seemed to embolden Frank. He took a deep breath and said, “I believe you’ve known all along how I feel.”

“Oh no. I haven’t. No,” Pearl said, her face crimson. Nothing in her life had prepared her for such a pronouncement.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“No. I don’t want you to stop,” Pearl said, finding her voice at last. “You have judged me rightly, Mr. Curry. I have never cared for another man as much as I do you. In fact, I have never cared for another man at all.”

“Then I will ask if you would consider joining our lives together, for it would give me so much happiness if you would agree to be my wife.”

“Oh,” Pearl replied, barely able to speak, so overcome was she with happiness. “Oh yes, I would consider it. I mean, I don’t need to consider it. I can answer now. Yes.”

“Splendid!” Frank replied, gripping Pearl’s arms so tightly that the young woman was afraid he would cut off the circulation. “But I must be square with you. I haven’t much to offer, although I believe if you’ll be patient for a while yet, my molybdenum mine will be worth a fortune as large as your father’s. If we marry now, we won’t be able to entertain lavishly or live in a grand style, but I think you do not care for such things.”

“No,” Pearl breathed, and emboldened, she added, “I care only for you.”

“We’ll find a modest house—in Georgetown or Leadville or Denver, wherever you prefer.”

“But you could live with us,” Pearl said, because she had never considered living anyplace but the Georgetown house. “After all, it’s called the Bride’s House. My mother went there as a bride, and now I will. There is no better house in the world.” Pearl closed her eyes as a thrill of emotion went through her. She thought of herself dressed in an ivory gown standing beside Frank in the red parlor as they took their vows. “Besides, Papa would want us to live with him. Would you do that?”

“If it would make you happy,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to tear you away from your father.” He stopped talking then and drew Pearl to him and kissed her on the lips.

The girl stared at him in surprise. She had never been kissed before and did not know how to respond. But in a second, she closed her eyes and kissed him back. “Are we engaged, then?” she asked.

“We are that,” Frank told her. “I consider us promised, and I shall hold you to that promise for the rest of your life.”

“Then I have never been so happy.”

“Nor I. You decide the day, but I would like it to be soon.”

“First, you must speak to Papa. He will expect you to, you know. We don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.”

“I will at the first opportunity. You don’t suppose he will object, do you?”

“Papa? He thinks only of my happiness. He’s never said no to me. And he won’t this time, not when he knows how much I care about you.”

Frank put his arm about Pearl’s waist and held her a moment longer, and the two of them looked out over the city to the mountains toward Georgetown, where they would make their home. They went back inside the dome, with Frank descending the stairs first in case Pearl should trip. The young woman, who was sure-footed and did not need such protection—indeed, she was so overjoyed that she might have floated down the steps—nonetheless reveled in that solicitous gesture from her future husband.

*   *   *

Pearl did not return until half past six, just thirty minutes before they were to meet Frank in the lobby of the hotel. If Mrs. Travers noticed Pearl’s mussed hair, her high color and dreamy demeanor, she would have chalked it up to the girl’s excitement over the climb to the top of the capitol building, her new dress, and the upcoming outing to Curtis Street. The old woman herself was greatly agitated at seeing her first picture show. “Shuckle now. You’re as slow as sorghum,” she chided. But in fact, the two were dressed and waiting downstairs when Frank arrived. They planned to take in the motion picture, then return to the hotel for a late supper.

Pearl was ecstatic when she saw Frank walk into the lobby, his clothes perfectly pressed, a gray felt hat in one hand, an ebony walking stick with a gold knob in the other. She could scarcely believe that this handsome man had just declared himself to her and asked for her hand. Frank looked over the new pink dress and motioned for Pearl to turn about so that he could see it from all sides. Then he declared it to be perfection—the most striking gown he had ever seen and a perfect complement to Pearl’s complexion. “Every man in the theater will envy me escorting two such lovely ladies,” he said.

Mrs. Travers ran her tongue over her teeth in what might have been a gesture of humbug, but the other two failed to notice.

Frank procured a taxicab that whisked them to Curtis Street, which was aglitter with electric lights. The streets and the picture palaces were covered with thousands of them, “more than all the stars in the heavens,” Pearl exclaimed, and even Mrs. Travers was made speechless at the sight of them. Frank purchased the tickets and handed them to an usher, who showed them to their seats. Pearl sat between the other two.

In a few minutes, the theater grew dark, and the velvet curtains opened, revealing a large screen. The movie began, and so did a piano player, whose music heightened the action. The picture was about a train robbery, and Pearl was so taken by the reality of the movie that she sat on the edge of her seat and cried, “Oh no, look behind you,” when the villain pointed his gun at the hero’s back. After the picture was over, she put her hand to her throat to finger the cameo, her gesture of nervousness, but she had not worn it. So she clasped the neckline of her dress and told Frank, “I was so caught up … I mean, for a moment I thought it was real.”

“And so did everyone else. You weren’t the only one who warned him, was she, Mrs. Travers?” Frank asked.

The older woman raised her chin and said, “It’s perfectly understandable,” because she herself had cried out louder than Pearl.

They stayed for the second picture, a comedy with two silly men caught up in foolishness. Pearl did not care much for slapstick and watched silently, not paying so much attention this time, because halfway through the picture, Frank put his hand over hers and let it rest there, under her purse, where Mrs. Travers couldn’t see it. The old woman, however, was so caught up in the picture—her laugh could be heard all over the movie palace—that the young couple could have stolen out of the theater without her paying the least attention.

Pearl had hoped Mrs. Travers would plead tiredness as she had the night before, and thus leave the couple alone. But she was in high spirits and accompanied them to supper and even for an evening stroll past Frank’s hotel, just a block from the Brown Palace, to the capitol, which shone with electric lights. “This is the best day that ever came down over my head,” she declared, as she took Pearl’s arm and all but dragged the young woman to the elevator, after they returned from the walk.

“Yes,” Pearl replied, looking at Frank. “Yes, I believe it is.”

So Pearl and Frank were denied the pleasure of being alone that evening. Nor did the two manage a moment to themselves the next day, because Mrs. Travers was with them every moment, from the time Frank met them for church until he escorted them to Union Station.

Pearl longed to ask Frank when he would come to Georgetown, but she did not want to seem anxious. She was delighted when Mrs. Travers asked, “Will we see you again this week, Mr. Curry?”

Frank shook his head. “I am going east on business and won’t return for a month.”

When Pearl uttered a disappointed, “Oh,” he said, “Perhaps two weeks if things go well. I will come as soon as I can, for I have something important to discuss with Mr. Dumas.”

“Where will you go?” Pearl asked.

“New York, Washington, perhaps New Orleans.” He smiled at her, as if the words had a secret meaning, and Pearl smiled back, because now she knew that Frank, not her father, would take her to those places, perhaps on their wedding trip.

“Not Egypt?” she asked.

“Not this trip.”

Mrs. Travers did not pay attention to the silly words or see the long look the two gave each other; instead she watched the train back into the station. When the conductor put down the stool, and the passengers began to board, Mrs. Travers told Pearl, “Get aboard, or we shouldn’t have a decent seat.” The young woman reluctantly followed the older woman to the train.

Mrs. Travers immediately climbed aboard and went inside the car to claim a seat, but Pearl stood on the observation platform, looking down at Frank. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I shouldn’t—”

“Hush. Never have I felt better. Or been happier.”

“I’ll come as soon as I can, dear, for it’s very important business, indeed,” Frank said. He touched his fingers to his lips.

“Shuckle,” Pearl told him.

*   *   *

Charlie Dumas cut short his trip to New Mexico, because one of the mines he had expected to visit had experienced a cave-in, shutting off the main adit, and he had decided to put off his investment decision until he could inspect it. So, to his daughter’s delight, he returned to Georgetown only days after the women. Pearl longed to tell him about Frank’s proposal. Charlie was the only person in whom she ever confided, although those confidences usually involved business or were observations about people. She did not discuss personal matters with her father for the reason that she didn’t have many. But she would have to tell him Frank’s intentions before the young man sought an interview, because she believed her father would be disappointed if he learned of her future plans from anyone except herself. She had not yet decided when or how to inform him, however.

Charlie arrived in late morning and immediately went into his study to take care of business that had come up in his absence. Pearl and Mrs. Travers unpacked his bags and put away his things. Then Pearl went into the study to take dictation and write her father’s letters for him. There was no time to discuss anything else, and indeed, the girl wanted to wait until Charlie was rested and not overwrought with work before she surprised him with her announcement.

As if to make up for the days she had spent away from her work, Mrs. Travers prepared Charlie’s favorite dishes for supper. She went to the market for a hen, which she stewed with dumplings, boiled and mashed potatoes, opened a bottle of green beans and cooked them to a pulp, with bacon. She baked bread and a Snow Cake, which Pearl iced and set on a glass stand on the sideboard in the dining room.

When Charlie went into the room, he surveyed the feast set out and sighed that if he could help it, he would never leave home again. Between bites of supper, he told the women about his trip, pointing his fork at Pearl from time to time (when Charlie was excited, his table manners reverted to his early days in Georgetown) to emphasize his point about a mine or a smelter he had toured. “You should have seen the amalgamation process, Pearl. The equipment was so clean, you could put it into your kitchen and eat off it.”

“And have you decided to invest in any of the mines?” she asked.

Charlie thought that over. “I wish you’d been with me, since you have a good head. I don’t know. Only the King Mine seems like a good prospect, but there’s something about it.…” He paused with his fork in the air. “I can’t put my finger on it. Perhaps I’m getting old and overly cautious. Besides, since I couldn’t inspect it thoroughly, I’ve put off a decision.”

“You are not old, and your instincts are always good, Papa. Perhaps you should listen to them.”

“I would not want to miss an opportunity as I did with Utah Copper. I thought the ore there was too low-grade to be economic, and that was a mistake. If I’d invested in it, the two of you would be wearing furs and diamonds.”