The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (30 page)

And he’d practically had to beg to be allowed to do that.

With each twinge of his back, his anger increased. The fact that a law-abiding father couldn’t see to the welfare of his daughter chafed at him.

“I’m all for this campaign to run the seedier side of the community out of the city limits,” he told Hiram, “but I’m not sure what to make of it when I’m tarred with the same brush as people who actually deserve it.”

Hiram didn’t look up, though he did pause in his scribbling.

“And then there are these ridiculous sanctions Ira prattled on about.” He stood and began to pace. “I’m a businessman, Hiram, and a good one. I’ve had more than my share of opportunities to indulge in ill-mannered behavior, but have I?”

He waited until it became apparent his second-in-command did not plan to respond. Of course Hiram knew the answer.

“That’s right. I haven’t. And why?” This time he didn’t bother to wait. “Because I am a man of honor. Of character. Of…” Daniel once again sank into his chair. “I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?”

His assistant nodded, setting aside his notes. “It appears so. I’ve had a chance to see this resolution you and the other members of the committee drafted.”

“And?”

Hiram sighed. “And the moral turpitude clause is a concern.”

“A concern?” Daniel shook his head. “How so?”

“It appears last night’s lapse in judgment may actually have actionable consequences.” Hiram steepled his hands. “The question is whether Mr. Stegman will let this debacle die a quiet death or choose to make an example out of you.”

Daniel picked up his pen, then set it back against the inkwell. “You’ve met Mary Stegman. Which do you think will happen?”

Checking his watch, Hiram shrugged. “You’re about to find out. What say I go and fetch the trunks? The clerk over at the Clarendon promised there would be another room vacant for us tonight.”

The idea of sharing a room with Hiram irked him, but not as much as the reason for it. He nodded and sent the man on his way. While he awaited Ira’s arrival, Daniel bypassed the stack of documents needing his attention and reached into the drawer for the Bible he kept there.

A ribbon held his place in Isaiah, and he opened to that spot. “‘Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.’ ” He sighed. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Daniel turned to see Ira Stegman entering his office, and rose, setting his Bible aside. He gestured to the seat across from him, then remained standing until the hotel owner had made himself comfortable.

“Well, now,” Stegman said, “I’d like to think you’re actually reading that Bible rather than just hoping I’d catch you looking at it.”

Giving in to his temper would serve no purpose. As a businessman, he knew this. As a man falsely accused and royally aggrieved, he strongly wished otherwise. He resisted the urge to pound his fists on the desk and demand an apology.

For now.

“I can see you’re a man of few words this morning, Daniel, so I’ll be brief as well.”

Daniel lifted a brow but kept his hands hidden.

“This morning we called an emergency meeting of the committee,” Ira said, “and a vote was taken on the meaning of the rules we all agreed to, you included.”

“Funny,” Daniel said with what he hoped would be deadly calm. “I don’t recall an invitation to that meeting.” He paused to let the words settle hard on the man he’d sat beside in church and worked beside in the mines before he bankrolled the man’s hotel venture. “Any reason why all the members weren’t called in? Or was it to be sure I’d be hung out to dry without opposition?”

Ira exhaled a long breath and his features relaxed. “Look, Daniel,” he said, “if it were up to me, I’d turn my back on the whole thing and pretend it never happened. Likely every man standing in the hallway last night feels the same way, and let me tell you, we had a long list of important men staying with us last night.”

Daniel nodded. He’d recognized more than a few faces among the crowd—not that any of them had looked him in the eye.

“And here’s the thing,” Ira continued. “I took a poll—an informal one, mind you—before the meeting started, and not a man there was willing to say a word against you.”

For the first time since last night, Daniel felt his temper subside a notch. “I’m glad to hear it, Ira.”

The other man shifted positions. “Well, don’t be too glad. That’s the good news. The bad news is our wives don’t share our opinion.”

“I see.” Daniel stifled a smile though he should have felt outrage. “So the womenfolk would have me hanged?”

“No,” Ira said slowly, “I believe talk of hanging was reserved for the pretty governess of yours. You they preferred to see tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail.”

“Comforting.” Daniel regarded Stegman a moment. “I’m a businessman, Ira. I’ve enough concern just keeping my daughter and her governess safe until we can return to Denver. I don’t have the time nor the inclination to worry about what a gaggle of housewives think.” He paused. “Though I am sure your wife’s opinion would be of the greatest value to me.”

Ira chuckled. “Don’t be so certain, though I do believe I have a solution for the issue of the womenfolk’s safety.”

“Oh?” Daniel leaned forward. “What’s that?”

“My brother’s taken a liking to the two of them. Said Miss Cooper’s a real lady, and your daughter, she’s quite the charmer.”

Daniel smiled in spite of himself. “Indeed.”

“He’s willing to act as bodyguard as long as you’ll have him.” Ira paused to shift positions. “I told him to hold off talking to you about it until I had a chance to give you my spiel. Chances are you might not want anything to do with me and my family after you hear the rest of what I’ve got to say.”

“Go on.”

“A few of us have been pondering this.” He studied the ceiling a minute before returning his attention to Daniel. “I think there’s a way out of this mess that will make everyone happy. Well, maybe ‘happy’s’ not the right word, but at least you won’t be forced to sell off the Beck mines and leave town.”

“Sell off the mines!” Daniel scrambled to his feet. “You and that idiotic committee for the beautification of whatever it is are absolutely certifiable.”

“The Greater Leadville Beautification and Improvement Society,” Ira said with a calmness that did not befit the situation. “And if you’ll just hear me out, I think you’ll agree the mayor and I have come up with a whopper of a fix for this.”

“The mayor?”

Ira nodded. “Well, and the marshal. Pastor Kent’s in on it too, but he didn’t actually come up with the plan. Come to think of it, he never did officially approve of it, but I think that’s just a formality.”

“Ira,” Daniel said carefully, “if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about pretty soon, I’m going to lose my temper.” He paused. “You don’t want that, trust me.”

Gennie held tight to the buggy seat with one hand and held her handkerchief over her nose with the other. Between the dust and the altitude,
she’d decided this part of the Wild West was nothing at all like the place portrayed in Mae’s stories.

“Where are we going?” she asked when the worst of the dust cloud, along with the crowd of buildings downtown, was behind them.

Daniel gestured toward the foothills where, he claimed, a decent view of Leadville awaited. “I thought to have a picnic, though I don’t know if it will compare to the one we shared with the Finch ladies.”

The reminder caused Gennie to wince. While she’d hoped the event might be an opportunity to draw Daniel and Anna closer together, quite the opposite seemed to have happened. Anna’s mother went on and on about every conceivable topic under the sun while Anna nibbled on the contents of the food basket and looked longingly at Daniel Beck.

It was all highly frustrating. Perhaps she’d find a way to make the situation right today.

But first, she should mention the other situation, the one that caused them to be banished from the Mountain Palace Hotel. Daniel hadn’t said a word about the incident, though Gennie could do nothing but think of the humiliation it must have brought him.

She’d certainly been horrified at the entire mess. What would her mother think if she knew?

But then, Mama would have been good and truly appalled long before last night. The incident at the Mountain Palace would have been just one more reason for the socially adept Mrs. Cooper to swoon.

Still, Gennie realized, as she held tight and watched the city slip behind her, she’d be leaving Colorado soon enough, while Mr. Beck would not. Long after last night was a distant memory for her, Daniel Beck would still have to see these people at church and do business with them. The poor man.

Then there was poor Charlotte. That she’d practically changed her
entire opinion of Gennie since that horrible miner terrorized her was tempered by the fact that Charlotte would be left without her when Gennie returned to New York City.

It was a problem with no good solution.

“You’re awful pensive,” Mr. Beck said.

Gennie offered her employer a smile, though the butterflies in her stomach threatened to take flight at the distance they’d come up the mountain. “I suppose I am.”

Their gazes collided. “Is Charlotte misbehaving?”

“The opposite, actually.” She gave him a sideways glance and found he’d gone back to concentrating on the road ahead. “Though she was not pleased to be left with Sam today.”

As she had a man waiting back in Manhattan, Gennie knew she shouldn’t think such thoughts, but Daniel Beck was quite a handsome man. Not handsome in the conventional sense, for there was nothing pretty about him. Rather, he had a pleasant combination of features that made him easy on the eye, yet altogether interesting.

Were there enough days left in her stay, Gennie might have asked him how a man of British descent came about having a touch of southern accent and a houseman given to wearing Confederate regalia. Then there was the issue of his late wife. How did a man come to be presented with a five-year-old he didn’t know he had by a woman he’d made his wife, then left behind in England? It was all so confusing, and yet so interesting.

There was that word again. Gennie sighed. If there was one term she could use to describe Daniel Beck, it would be
interesting.

He cracked the reins, and the buggy jolted forward as they began their ascent into the green hills. Soon the remains of the dust filtered away, and the air became clear and crisp.

“I’d hoped to make good on my offer of a Wild West adventure,” he said after a while, “but unfortunately, it appears safety has become an issue. For that, I apologize.”

“There’s no need,” she said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have brought us here if you’d suspected there might be a problem.”

“Indeed.” His attention never veered from the road ahead, yet Gennie felt as if he were somehow observing her.

The buggy wheels came close to the edge of the road, and the incline became steeper. With each turn, the clouds came nearer, and Gennie’s fears rose.

While she’d never been particularly afraid of heights, she’d never had to traverse a mountain road in an open buggy. Add in the lack of conversation, and she felt the urge to jump off the contraption and race back to town just to find level ground.

To her surprise, Daniel’s hand covered hers. “I should have asked if you minded that we’d be going up into the mountains.” He lifted his hand to grasp the reins and halt the horse’s ascent. “I can take you back if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I am,” she said with a nervous laugh, “but I think it’s good for me, so get this buggy moving before I change my mind.” She braved another look at Mr. Beck and found him smiling. “What?”

He shrugged and set the buggy in motion. “Miss Cooper, I can honestly say you are the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.”

Her laughter came from pure amusement. “Mr. Beck, I can’t decide whether or not that’s the nicest thing a man’s ever said to me.”

“You let me know when you’ve decided,” he said. “In the meantime, I want you to know I’ve got Hiram working on tickets back to Denver for tomorrow or the day after. I wish it were sooner, but there’s just so few spots on that narrow-gauge line and too many folks wanting them.”

“I understand.” She paused to inhale more of the crisp air. “I know
I should be after last night, but I’m honestly in no hurry to leave Leadville. It’s just so”—Gennie caught her breath as they turned a corner and the whole of Leadville lay before her—“beautiful.”

“Beautiful? I suppose one who doesn’t spend much time here would think so.” He shrugged and urged the horses on. “Me? I see the smelters and the mines, and I know what it looked like before.”

Gennie heard the wistfulness in his voice. “What did it look like?”

He laughed. “It was green. Not much else here, except the mining shacks and a few places in town where a man could get…”

She glanced over and saw his ears had turned red. “Mr. Beck,” she said, “are you blushing?”

“No,” he said as he returned her stare, “but if I finish that sentence, I guarantee I’d make you blush.”

Surely he heard her gasp, but as the color faded from his face, the intensity did not diminish from his stare. Neither did the heat she felt building where moments ago butterflies had taken flight.