Waiting for Spring (29 page)

She loved Richard, and unless Barrett was sorely mistaken, Richard loved her. Barrett smiled as he climbed into the carriage and seized the reins. He was surprised by the notion, and yet he knew he shouldn't be. The signs had been there, but he had been too blind to see them.

When he'd taken Barrett to task for neglecting Miriam, Richard had practically confessed tender feelings for her. As for Miriam, she'd made it clear that she sought a man who shared her love of music and literature. Richard did. If the Taggerts didn't interfere and insist that Miriam marry a man with a future in politics, she and Richard would be an ideal couple.

As Barrett had expected, Ferguson was deserted at this time of night. It was still hours before the shops would open, and so the majority of houses were dark, the few lighted windows possibly the sign of a fussy child. Was David awake? Barrett pushed the thought aside. This was no time to be thinking about Charlotte and her son. He needed to find Miriam and then do whatever he could to smooth matters between her and her parents.

Barrett was about to turn onto 18th Street when he saw her. Though the street was dark and she was clad all in black, there was no mistaking the fact that a woman was running.

“Help me!” she cried, and as she did, Barrett's blood ran cold. He knew that voice.

“Charlotte!” Barrett flicked the reins, drawing them in when he reached her. “Get in.” In the dim light from the
stars, he saw that the woman with Charlotte's voice had her face covered with a heavy veil. “Charlotte?” This time he made it a question.

“Yes. Thank God you're here. He's after me.” As she climbed into the carriage, her voice trembled so much that Barrett could barely understand her.

“Who?”

She shuddered, and Barrett reached out, wrapping his arm around her to draw her closer to him.

“The . . .” She stopped, her teeth chattering from cold or fear or perhaps both. “A man. He was right behind me.” She pointed south on Ferguson.

“I don't see anyone.”

“At first he hid in doorways.” Her voice was stronger now. “Then he came out, as if he wanted me to know he was there. Oh, Barrett, I've never been so scared.”

Barrett tightened his grip on Charlotte. “We'll find him,” he assured her. But though he drove slowly, pausing to look at each doorway and every narrow passageway between the buildings, he saw no one.

“He's gone.” If he really existed. Charlotte wasn't a woman given to flights of fancy, but there was no evidence of anyone lurking in the darkness. Perhaps she had heard a stray dog and her imagination had run wild. Anything was possible at this hour when the streets were empty and the shadows long.

“Why were you out?” Though he tried to keep his voice even, now that the danger was past, he found himself recoiling with horror over what might have happened if she was being pursued. Charlotte was a resourceful woman, but she was no match for a man bent on harming her.

“I was delivering dresses to a boardinghouse on 15th Street.”

Barrett blinked in astonishment. “At five in the morning?” He hadn't thought Charlotte foolish, but that was the height of foolhardiness. Fifteenth Street was not a place for gently bred ladies, particularly at this hour.

“It was the safest time,” she insisted. “No one's out then.”

“That wasn't true today. You could have been hurt or worse.” Though he hadn't intended it, anger crept into his voice. “If you'd asked me, I would have taken you there at a reasonable time.”

Charlotte stiffened and pulled away from him. “I will not be coddled.” Her voice was once again ragged, but this time Barrett recognized anger as well as fear. “I told you what my childhood was like, so surely you understand that I've spent too much of my life being protected. This was something I had to do by myself. I don't want to be treated like a hothouse flower.”

“It's not coddling to want you to be safe, Charlotte. It's called caring. I care about you.” What he felt was far deeper than mere caring, but this was neither the time nor the place to tell her that. “Let's get you home.”

She nodded. To Barrett's relief, her trembling stopped and her breathing returned to normal. When they reached her house, he alighted from the carriage and helped her out.

“I want to see you safely inside,” he told her as he took her arm and led her to the stairs.

She nodded again. It was only when she had lit the kitchen lamp that she turned to Barrett. “Thank you for being there.” A look of mild confusion flitted across her face. “I know God sent you. It had to be his hand that led you there at exactly
the right time, but I don't understand why you were outside at this hour.”

“I was looking for Miriam.”

A quarter hour later, Barrett was still looking for her. When he'd reached Richard's house, all the first floor lights were blazing, but when Barrett knocked on the door, no one answered. He'd waited a minute, rapping constantly, but Richard did not appear. Finally, Barrett had opened the door and gone from room to room. All empty. He did not doubt that Miriam had been here, for her perfume lingered in the parlor, nor did he doubt that she and Richard had left together. What he did not know was where they'd gone. It could be anywhere. Though he hated the message he would have to deliver, there was no choice. He had to tell Cyrus Taggert that he had failed to find his daughter.

Barrett was not surprised when he saw the lights on at the Taggert mansion. Undoubtedly Cyrus and Amelia were waiting for him. He was not surprised when their butler greeted him as if there were nothing unusual about callers arriving before dawn. However, Barrett was surprised when he entered the parlor and saw Miriam and Richard seated on the long couch, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“We're going to be married,” Miriam announced. Though her cheeks were stained with tears, her smile was brilliant. “Mama and Papa have agreed that we'll have a small wedding this afternoon. Will you come?”

“Of course.”

 19 

D
id you hear the news?” Gwen was breathless as she stood in the doorway of Charlotte's workroom. “I was buying groceries, and it was all anyone could talk about.”

Charlotte shook her head as she looked up at Gwen. She'd been thankful that she had no customers this morning, for it had given her time to think. And, oh, how she'd needed that. Her thoughts were as turbulent as the mountain stream she'd seen in Vermont, with water swirling and tumbling as it fought for supremacy with the boulders that tried to block its passage.

The baron had found her. Charlotte shuddered each time she remembered the sight of the masked figure. She hadn't imagined him. It might not have been the baron, but it was difficult to believe there were two men in Cheyenne who wore hoods over their faces, two men who frequented 15th Street. Though she tried to convince herself that he might not have recognized her, for she had been careful to keep her identity concealed, Charlotte could not dismiss the belief that the man
had known exactly who she was and that he was following her. “He's a dangerous man,” the prisoner at Fort Laramie had said. Charlotte did not doubt that for a second. The baron was dangerous, and he was evil.

While she trembled at the memory of those stealthy footsteps, Charlotte could not forget the comfort she had felt when Barrett had wrapped his arm around her. His strength, his warmth, his caring had helped to banish the terror. For the moments that she had been so close to him, she had felt safe and cherished. But then Barrett had admitted that he was searching for Miriam. He might care for Charlotte, but Miriam was the woman he loved. Though Charlotte did not know why he'd been looking for her at that hour, it did not matter. He loved Miriam, and if Charlotte had any sense at all, she would not forget that.

“What happened?” It was difficult to muster enthusiasm for the latest gossip when her heart felt as if it had been shredded.

“It's Miriam Taggert.” Gwen put her hand on her chest as she attempted to catch her breath. “She's getting married this afternoon.”

“That's nice.” Somehow, Charlotte managed to keep her voice even. “I hope she and Barrett are happy together.”

Shaking her head vigorously, Gwen grinned. “That's why everyone's so excited. It's not Barrett. She's marrying Richard Eberhardt.”

Though Barrett doubted it was the kind of wedding Amelia Taggert had envisioned for her daughter, the simple ceremony in the Taggerts' parlor was one he would long remember, if only because of the bride and groom's palpable happiness.
Richard looked as if he'd been given the most precious gift imaginable, while Miriam's smile was so wide her cheeks must have hurt. And though Amelia Taggert's smile appeared forced, Cyrus seemed genuinely pleased by his daughter's happiness.

“I trust you'll keep last night's events quiet,” Cyrus said when the service ended and the few guests had made their way into the dining room for a cold collation, cake, and punch.

Barrett nodded. He had no plan to tell anyone that Miriam had gone to Richard's town house, intent on compromising her reputation so that Richard would have no alternative but to marry her. “All that matters is that they're wed.”

Cyrus Taggert gave Barrett a long look. “I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I think the party is wrong. You'd make a fine senator. If you decide to run, you'll have my endorsement.”

It was more than Barrett had expected. A week ago, he might have been elated. Today he was not. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it, but a man's got to find his place. Mine isn't in Washington.”

The question remained: where was it? Barrett wanted to believe that his place was with Charlotte. The fear that he'd known when he'd heard her scream had deepened his conviction that she was the only woman he would ever love. In that moment, he had wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, to protect her and David, to create a life for the three of them. But what kind of life would that be?

Mere months ago, he'd been confident of what the future would bring. Now . . . now his world looked completely different. Barrett knew that if he was patient and listened, he would learn what the Lord had in store for him. But until
that happened, until he was confident that he could create a secure future for Charlotte and David, he would say nothing. It would be wrong to promise something he might not be able to deliver. Charlotte deserved the best, and if he could not give her that, he would simply walk away.

In the meantime, there was one thing he could do for her. He had realized that when he'd entered the Taggert mansion to witness two of his friends being joined in holy matrimony. As he'd looked at the spacious foyer of a building that was far too large for two people, Barrett had known he had at least one answer. He'd tell her tomorrow.

Charlotte had heard people say that their jaws dropped, but she had thought it was simply a figure of speech. She had been wrong. Her jaw had most definitely dropped. She stared at Barrett. “I don't understand,” she said when she had managed to regain a modicum of composure.

Those dark blue eyes that she envisioned even when she closed her own sparkled. “It's simple,” he said as he leaned forward ever so slightly. “I want to give you my house.”

“That's what I thought you said. I just didn't believe my ears.” She hadn't been surprised when Barrett entered the store. She had expected him to come, if only to assure himself that she had suffered no ill effects from her fright. When he'd arrived, she had wondered whether she should broach the subject of Miriam or simply pretend that she was unaware of the wedding. Barrett had perched on the edge of the chair rather than settling back and relaxing, his expression so serious that she feared Miriam's marriage had devastated him. As Charlotte struggled to find words
to comfort him, he'd shocked her by offering his home for the school.

“Are you certain?” To Charlotte's dismay, her voice cracked more than it had when Barrett had rescued her from the baron. She'd been frightened then, but now . . . now she wasn't sure what she felt other than overwhelmed.

Barrett took a quick look out the window, as if assuring himself there were no customers on the doorstep. “If you think this was an impulsive gesture, I can assure you that it isn't. I've given it considerable thought. The simple fact is, I no longer need a house of that size. I'm not going to run for office, so there's no need to entertain on a grand scale. Quite simply, it's too large for one person.”

Charlotte nodded slowly. Though Barrett claimed it wasn't a hasty decision, she suspected it was precipitated by Miriam's marriage. Without a bride and the possibility of children, Barrett did not need a mansion.

“I'm sorry about Miriam,” she said softly. “The news must have hurt.”

Barrett's eyes widened for a second. “Is that what the rumor mill is claiming, that I'm in the depths of despair because Miriam married Richard?” When Charlotte nodded, he laughed. “It couldn't be further from the truth. I'm happy for both of them. I would have danced at their wedding, only there was no dancing, so I had to be content with toasting their happiness.”

Charlotte tried to make sense of his words. “Then you don't . . .” She stopped, not daring to ask such a personal question.

“If you're asking whether I was in love with Miriam, the answer is no. It's true that I considered marrying her, but
for all the wrong reasons. The truth is, she loves Richard. I suspect she always has.”

Of course. Charlotte smiled as the pieces fell into place. No wonder Miriam had been so concerned about Gwen's possibly marrying an older man. She had been thinking about herself and Richard. And when she'd expressed her admiration for the man who shared her love of music and literature, it hadn't been Barrett. Richard was the man Miriam loved. Richard was the one whose declaration of love had excited her. Of course.

“Then I'm glad for all of you.” Charlotte was more than glad. She was thrilled, for Barrett's explanation reignited the flame of hope she'd tried so desperately to extinguish.

Barrett opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head. Clearing his throat, he gestured toward the flocked walls. “It would be a shame to divide this building. You'd wind up with a store and a school, but they'd both be too small. If you moved to my house, you'd be able to have more pupils and to make it a boarding school.” He paused for a second before adding, “I imagine you could persuade Mrs. Melnor to stay, even if you couldn't pay her full salary. You wouldn't need much other staff initially.”

Charlotte took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. There was no doubt that Barrett's mansion would be a far better site for a school than her shop. There was no doubt that his offer was incredibly generous. There was also no doubt that she could not agree to it.

“Oh, Barrett,” Charlotte said, searching for the words to make him understand. She didn't want to hurt or insult him by refusing a gift of this magnitude. “I appreciate your offer. Truly, I do. I never dreamt that anyone would offer me so much. But I can't accept.”

He blinked, as if surprised by her response. “Why not? I don't believe it would be too difficult to convert it to a school.”

“It wouldn't.” Charlotte shook her head, remembering her first impression of his home. “I never told you, but your house reminded me a bit of the academy where Abigail and I used to teach. It has the same spacious rooms and the feeling that a child would be welcome, even if he slid down the banister or dropped food on the carpet.”

“Then what's the problem?” Barrett appeared perplexed and, though she sensed he was trying to hide it, a bit angry.

“I can't take it. It wouldn't be right.”

Shaking his head, Barrett fixed his gaze on her. “Now I'm the one who doesn't understand.”

How could she explain without making it sound as if she sought something more from him? It would have been difficult enough if he and Miriam were engaged—of course, if that were the case, Barrett would not be offering Charlotte his home—but now it might seem as if she was angling for marriage. “It wouldn't be proper,” she said, hoping he'd understand how rigid some rules were.