Chapter 15
The next morning, despite Mason’s opinion that it wouldn’t do any good, Rose hastened to the office of Archer Field, solicitor. He sat at his desk, his bushy white eyebrows slanted in a frown. Sitting across, she told him what had happened. “So can you help? There must be a law that says Ben hasn’t the right to keep me from my daughter.”
After a long moment of pondering, the solicitor sighed and shook his head. “Bear in mind, California is a new state with new laws and more being written every day. Certain areas aren’t completely covered yet, and I’m afraid your specific problem is among them. So to be honest, in answer to your question, I’m not sure. Frankly, I don’t see how a mother can be kept from her child, although under the circumstances, we might have a problem.”
“What circumstances?”
“Well, now…” Mr. Field paused to gather his thoughts. “There are some who consider every saloon in this town an abomination. You’ve got your Women’s Christian Temperance Union, your Sons of Temperance, and more of that type of organization popping up every day. In their view, those who own a saloon, or even work in one, are to be condemned.”
“I see.” Rose’s spirits dropped to a new low. “But you’ll try?”
“Of course. Meantime—”
“Don’t do anything rash?”
He gave her a fatherly smile. “Exactly, Mrs. Peterson. From what I understand, your daughter is being well cared for. Have patience. Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can do.”
Walking back to the hotel from the solicitor’s office, she spotted Mitch driving a wagon loaded with ice. A big sign on the side read, Fleming & Carter’s Ice House. She gave him a friendly wave, and he pulled over. “Rose! Just the person I wanted to see.”
How fortunate, considering Mitch was just the person she wanted to see. She hadn’t forgotten his compassion and caring when he delivered Cherry’s baby. Somehow she’d sensed a special feeling forming between the two, only to be destroyed when he found out what Cherry did for a living. What a shame. If she could do something to revive it, she would. In fact, she’d already planned what she was going to say. She walked over to the wagon. “How’s the ice business, Mitch?”
“Booming,” he replied with a pleased smile. “We’re selling ice to every saloon in town and then some.”
“You wanted to see me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ve been thinking about Cherry. Is she doing all right?”
“Yes and no. She’s recovering nicely from the birth, but of course…” She heaved a sigh. “So sad.”
Mitch frowned with concern. “How do you mean?”
“As I’m sure you know, she can’t keep her baby in a place like that. They’ll soon be taking him away, and she’s devastated.”
“That’s terrible.” Mitch frowned in thought. “Isn’t there something…? I mean, a baby should be with its mother.”
“It’s the price she has to pay for being”—Rose cast her gaze down discreetly—“in the profession she’s in.”
“She hasn’t gone back to work yet, has she?”
“Not yet, but what choice does she have? I’ll be closing the third floor soon, but she can always go elsewhere.” Rose took advantage of the perfect opening. “It’s so unfair. The poor girl didn’t choose to do what she’s doing…”
She went on to repeat the story Cherry had told her on one of her visits. The father who beat her. The depraved individual who forced her into… “I can’t say the words, Mitch. Suffice to say, I hold her blameless. Even if she weren’t, there’s such a thing as forgiveness. Do you know your Bible?” She already knew he did.
Mitch nodded solemnly. “Read it every night.”
She remembered a Bible verse from Sunday school. “‘The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion.’”
Mitch nodded solemnly. “Psalm 116:5.”
“You ought to at least go see her.”
He pondered a moment. “I’d like to, but knowing what I know now, I want nothing to do with the occupants of the third floor.”
“Really? I’m surprised. You risked your life to rescue those poor people from the water, but now you’re afraid of a few ladies of the night? They’re harmless, I assure you.”
He took her remark good humoredly and nodded to himself, as if he’d reach some sort of private decision. “Is there any place she can stay other than the third floor?”
“She could have a room on the second floor. Those are just plain hotel rooms.”
“Then move her and the baby to the second floor. I’ll pay for her room and the rest of her expenses.”
“That’s wonderful, Mitch, and so very generous.”
“Just one more thing,” he said with a thoughtful frown. “She mustn’t know who’s paying.”
Rose nodded agreeably. “I shall refer to you simply as her benefactor, but are you sure? I think Cherry should know—”
“No! I’m a devout Christian. In my wildest dreams I never thought I’d have anything to do with a brothel. But Cherry is special. She…she…”
“Say no more, Mitch. You have my word Cherry will never know.”
After they parted, Rose had to congratulate herself. She’d done it! Got Mitch to help, as she’d intended. The poor man needed to get his thoughts in order, though. He ought to decide what really mattered in his life. She hoped someday soon he would.
* * * *
During the next few days, Rose fought through spells of despair. She and Lucy had never been apart before, and she missed her terribly. Thankfully, the pending opening of Gaston’s left little time to dwell on all the tumult in her life. A kind of controlled chaos reigned in the kitchen and dining room as her iron-willed French chef confronted a myriad of last minute crises. His poaching pans were missing. Two waiters he’d hired direct from Paris had yet to arrive. She pitched in to help, sometimes chafing under Gaston’s despotic rule. She hardly ever questioned his judgment, though, having every faith he knew what he was doing.
One day, while she was working in her office, Drucilla opened the door and peeked in. “I have a surprise.” She opened the door wide.
To Rose’s joy, Lucy was standing there, holding her aunt’s hand. At the sight of Rose, she cried, “Mommy,” and rushed to throw her arms around her.
Rose held back tears as she knelt to embrace her daughter. No words were necessary. Finally, over the top of Lucy’s head, she asked Drucilla, “How did you manage?”
“Ben was going to be gone for a while, so I took the chance. I’ve got to get her back soon, but I’ll leave you two alone for a little while.”
After Drucilla left, Lucy peered around the room with her usual curiosity. “Is this your office?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is this your hotel?”
“Yes, this is the River Queen. First it was Daddy’s and now it’s mine.”
Lucy looked toward the desk. “Can I sit in your chair?”
“Indeed you can.”
Lucy perched herself in the big mahogany chair and immediately discovered she could swivel back and forth. “This is fun. Do you tell everybody what to do?”
“I’m the boss, so I guess I do.”
Lucy stopped swiveling and gazed at Rose with troubled eyes. “Grandpa doesn’t like that you work here. He says you ought to be home, taking care of me.”
Rose wasn’t going to lie. No sense trying to convince Lucy everything was fine when it wasn’t. She was a smart little girl who wouldn’t believe her anyway. “Grownups have problems sometimes, and that’s why I’m not living at home right now.”
“Are you mad at Grandma and Grandpa?”
“No, I’m not. I love them both very much and want us to be together again. Meantime, you’re to stay with your grandparents and be a good little girl.”
“You promise you’ll come home?”
“I promise.” Her voice almost broke. “I love you more than anything else in this world, Lucy. Of course, I’m coming home.”
Rose knew she’d given the right answer when she saw the relief in her little girl’s eyes.
After Drucilla came back and took Lucy away, Rose sat for a time in dark, brooding silence. Only with the greatest effort did she pull herself together. She hated being so muddle-headed, so unsure of herself. She only knew she couldn’t give up now, when she was beginning to see improvements in the hotel, and the opening of Gaston’s was in just a week. She must stay strong. Mustn’t let the world know how her heart ached for her daughter. Someday soon all would be well. She wouldn’t let herself think otherwise.
She’d kept dodging Mason’s invitation for dinner, claiming she had too much work to do. True, of course, but whenever she thought of his advice that she should sell the River Queen, an icy resentment rose within her, and she had no desire to see him. That might change, though. He’d been good to her in so many ways, she would certainly see him again—when she had the time.
As for Deke…
They’d both been so busy she’d hardly seen him since that day she spent in his room. She thought about him, though, and whenever she did, which was far more often than she liked, her mind spun in such a tangle of emotions that she quickly blocked him out each time. Not easy, considering the memory of his making love to her with his tough, sinewy body did strange things to her insides. Despite that, she couldn’t possibly be in love with him. He wasn’t on crutches anymore, so he wasn’t the cripple she’d felt so sorry for. Even so, much as he’d changed, first impressions were hard to forget. Of course, she had to admit her heart did a little leap whenever she caught a glimpse of him. As soon as she had the time, if she ever did, she’d sort it all out, but not right now. She was far too busy.
* * * *
Deke Fleming considered himself a lucky fellow. Only weeks ago, he’d been a miserable cripple, left to fend for himself while his companions made their fortunes in the gold fields. Although he took no pleasure from reports of their various miseries and dismal failures, he couldn’t help but be proud of his own success. Thanks to his and Mitch’s hard work, profits from their ice business had spiraled to heights they hadn’t dreamed of. “We’re rich,” Mitch declared. “All because the customers like their beer cold.”
Only one area of his life caused Deke to lose sleep at night. Rose. Since that day she’d come to his room, he longed to see her again, but his ice business had kept him at least as busy as she with her hotel, and somehow the days had slipped by without their even talking. Since he’d never been the kind of man who sat on his arse and waited for something to happen, he took action. On the day before the grand opening of Gaston’s, he went to the River Queen and stopped by the lunch counter. Next, he found Rose in her office, poring over some kind of list, no doubt having to do with tomorrow night’s big event. She was wearing a blue dress he hadn’t yet seen, which he liked very much. Her hair was nicely done up in a bun. Only little strands of it had escaped and framed her pretty face.
“We’re going on a picnic,” he said.
Startled, she looked up. “The restaurant’s opening tomorrow. I couldn’t possibly.”
He nailed her with a firm and unrelenting gaze. “Yes, you could. You’ve got to eat sometime. It’s time we talked.”
After a long moment, she nodded, more to herself than him. “You’re right. I could use a little time to myself, and besides, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
He took her to the banks of the American River, where tall oak trees shaded a grassy spot below. Facing her over a checkered tablecloth spread on the ground, Deke pulled all sorts of items from a basket, which Gus himself had prepared. “Beef sandwiches. Potato salad. Boiled eggs. Chocolate cake, which I hope didn’t get squashed.”
Gazing at the feast before her, Rose burst out laughing. “What a wonderful idea. I’ve been so busy I’ve forgotten how to enjoy myself.”
“Why do you think we’re here?”
While they ate, he saw to it they talked only of pleasantries, taking time to watch the river flowing by while a group of white herons waded along the shallow edges. Finishing her cake, she remarked, “It’s beautiful here, and so peaceful. I should do this more often instead of letting my stomach get in knots over…so many things.”
Only then did he ask, “Has Ben relented?”
“No, he has not.” She told him about her visit to the solicitor, and how she was still waiting to hear. How she’d seen Lucy the one heart-wrenching time, and how she couldn’t hold on much longer. As soon as Gaston’s opened and the excitement died down, she’d take some kind of action, but as yet she didn’t know what.
As always, Deke listened with full attention. There was one subject she hadn’t mentioned, the most important of all, as far as he was concerned, and he needed to know. “I haven’t seen you with Mason Talbot lately.” He waited. She knew damn well what he meant.
“Well…” Looking down at her plate, she busily rearranged the remaining crumbs of her chocolate cake with her fork. “I haven’t seen him for a while.” As if she’d finally reached a decision, she looked up and gazed directly into his eyes. “It’s not anything to do with us. Mason said something I didn’t like, and I’ve been avoiding him.”
“Do you think you’ll see him again?”
Again she hesitated. He waited, his heart beating like a hammer in his chest. A large bird with a streaked belly landed on a branch nearby. He pointed. “Red-tailed hawk.” Damned if he’d let her know how much her answer meant to him.
She finally spoke. “I’ve been trying to make myself like him. He’s been kind to me, at least most of the time, and of course, even you can see he’s a desirable man in so many ways. Only…” After a moment more of thought, she continued, “The farthest thing from my mind right now is finding a husband. Be that as it may, as far as Mason Talbot is concerned, I could never love him. In fact, I’m not even sure I like him.”
He was hard put to quell the joyous shout that rose in his throat, but he stayed straight-faced and asked in a mildly interested voice, “You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure about that.” A smile trembled on her lips. “You and I have lots to talk about. Are you busy tomorrow night? If you’re not, you’re invited to Gaston’s for the grand opening. Drucilla and I are planning to be there, and I’d love to have you join us. Mitch, too, if you like.”
Deke chuckled. “I’ll ask, but I can tell you right now Mitch prefers to stay home and read his Bible.”
“But you?”
“I’ll be there.”
She began to pick up the remains of the lunch. “We’d best get back. There’s still lots to do before the grand opening.”
He quickly arose and joined in the cleanup. Tomorrow night. After dinner. That’s when he’d get her alone. He’d never been all that good at expressing himself, especially to a woman, but the time had come to tell her how he felt.
* * * *
Rose greeted the opening night of Gaston’s with mixed feelings. On the bad side, she’d so focused all her energies on the restaurant, she’d put off any and all decisions concerning her in-laws until after the opening. But now the big night had arrived. Starting tomorrow, no more excuses. She must start making some decisions. On the good side, she could hardly contain her excitement that at last her hotel could boast a major attraction. The Egyptian had its Le Chantecler. The Woodcock Hotel had a dining saloon which was, according to the Sacramento Union, “in point of comfort and elegance, unsurpassed by anything of the kind that we have seen in the country.” Sacramento boasted other fabulous restaurants besides, but Rose had every confidence that Gaston’s at the River Queen, run by one of the great chefs of Paris, would soon become the most elegant French restaurant in town.
To her relief, in the last days before the opening, Gaston had calmed his jitters and now exuded such confidence that everyone, she included, had no doubt opening night would be a big success. She’d ordered a new gown for the occasion. Now, with only minutes left before she must go downstairs, she stood before the full-length mirror in her room, twisting this way and that for a good look at herself. She had to admit she didn’t look half-bad in her new off-shouldered gown of cream satin and chiffon. Embroidered with gold coral beads and spangles, it was by far the most elegant she’d ever owned.
Drucilla knocked and entered. She cared nothing for fancy clothes, but when Rose had firmly informed her she couldn’t possibly attend such an elegant event in anything she owned, she, too, ordered a new gown, a low-cut Nile-green chiffon velvet, trimmed in gold. She’d even done something with her hair, sweeping it up into curls atop her head, fastened with a jeweled comb. Stepping to the mirror, she took a close look at herself. “Well? Do I look all right?”
Rose refrained from declaring she’d never seen her look as good, a two-way compliment if ever there was one. She absolutely did, though. “You look gorgeous in that gown. It’s your height that carries it off.”
Drucilla responded with her usual scornful sniff, yet Rose knew she was pleased. Even though her sister-in-law had worked at the River Queen for only a few weeks, already she seemed to be standing taller, holding her chin higher. All due, Rose very much suspected, to Drucilla’s finally escaping her mother’s stifling criticism. Not that she realized it yet, but if she could see how beautifully regal she looked in that gown, she’d gain even more confidence in herself.
“Don’t forget Deke is joining us,” Rose said. “We’re to meet him downstairs.”
“What happened to Mason?”
She might have known Drucilla would ask. “I have no idea.”
“At least Mason knows how to dress, but does Deke?” Drucilla frowned with concern. “I’ve never seen him in anything but work clothes. Does he even know what a frock coat looks like?”
Rose had wondered the same thing. When she invited Deke, she’d failed to mention the opening was a formal affair. Judging from what she’d seen of the clothes hanging from pegs in his room, he owned nothing that could pass for evening clothes. She’d taken care of it, though. “I spoke to Gaston. If Deke shows up in ordinary clothes, the maître d’ is to let him in regardless.”
“Is that wise?”
“Deke has been helpful to me in many ways, and I don’t care if it’s wise or not.”
Rose’s snappish answer had its effect. Drucilla shrugged and changed the subject. “By the way, rumors are flying about who Gaston hired for his maître d’hôtel. Nobody seems to know. Have you heard anything?”
“All I know is, all the waiters are French, but I have no idea who the maître d’ might be, or the kitchen help or everyone else. Gaston was quite secretive about it. I suspect we’re in for some surprises.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s time to go.”
During the course of the day, Rose went up and down the stairs thinking nothing of it. So did Drucilla, but tonight the River Queen’s main staircase served more like a theater stage. Dressed in their stylish new gowns, aware of the many eyes upon them, Rose and Drucilla slowed their pace as they paraded down, heads held high, gloved hands lightly touching the railing.
A man stood at the bottom of the staircase looking up at them. Halfway down, Rose realized who it was. Deke! And dressed to the nines in a black frock coat and trousers, starched, pleated high-collared white shirt, cravat and—incredible!—white gloves. Oh my God, he looks amazing. She’d never thought of him as handsome, but seeing him dressed the way he was, with those great wide shoulders and his tall, lean build, she was hard put to conceal her admiration. Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, she smiled and said, “Good evening,” hoping she sounded casual, as if she saw him dressed this way all the time.
Deke gave a slight but gracious bow. His gaze swept over them. “Good evening, ladies. You both look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Rose hid her amusement at her considerable understatement.
His mouth hinted at a smile. “Hard to believe, but we’ve been known to wear frock coats even in Australia.”
Tilting her head, she declared, “Fancy that. Then let’s go to dinner, shall we?”
They made their way through the saloon to where a crowd of patrons, all dressed in their best finery, had formed a line in front of the entrance to Gaston’s. They joined the line. After a short wait, they reached the maître d’s station inside the door.
What? Rose couldn’t quite grasp who was standing there. “Gus, is that you?”
“It’s me.” A pleased expression crossed the face of Gus Hurdlicka. “Monsieur Bernier has been training me. He didn’t want you to know. Said it would be a big surprise.”
“I’m surprised all right.” Flabbergasted would be more like it. Gaston had performed a miracle on the sly. Gone were the stained apron, the surly expression. Dressed in elegant evening attire, Gus resembled the ideal maître d’, especially when his friendly smile disappeared, replaced by a disdainful lift of his chin.
“You will have a table by the orchestra,” he loftily declared. He raised his arm and imperiously snapped his fingers. A waiter came running. “Table number ten, Julien.”
“Thank you, Gus,” Rose said.
He peered down his nose at her. “It’s ‘Guillaume’ now, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Rose stifled her laughter, happy Gaston had chosen to keep Gus, despite all his faults. Judging from what she’d just seen, he’d do fine. As they followed the waiter to their table, she got her first good look at the magnificence Gaston had created. What a difference! Thick, red Axminster carpet covered what had once been a sawdust floor. Overhead, six chandeliers, bigger than Le Chantecler’s, twinkled and sparkled from newly installed gas lighting. At one end of the room, partially hidden by potted palms, a four-piece orchestra played the classical music of Haydn and Mozart.
At the table, the waiter seated Drucilla, pulling her chair back with an extra flourish. Deke did the same for Rose, without the flourish but with the composure of someone who had dined in fancy restaurants all his life. “Well done,” she whispered as she sat. “Do they have restaurants in Australia, too?”
The waiter brought the menus. Gaston had outdone himself. Starting with canapes of caviar, there were so many courses, Rose could hardly count them all. She marveled at the list of mouth-watering entrees: Escargots à la Bourguignonne, Huitres Thermidor…
From across the table came a gasp from Drucilla. She’d been holding the large menu with both hands. Now she slapped one hand to her mouth and stared wide-eyed at something she’d just read.
Rose and Deke exchanged questioning glances. Never had she seen her sister-in-law anything but cool and composed. “Drucilla, what is it?”
“Look, look!” Drucilla pointed at the menu. “It’s under the entrees. Oh, I don’t believe it.” She slapped her hand over her mouth again.
Rose went back to her own menu and scanned the entrees. “Oh, I see it! ‘Coquilles a la Drucilla.’ Oh, my goodness, Gaston has named a dish after you.”
“I… I…” Drucilla choked up and couldn’t go on. Her eyes got watery. Finally she managed, “Did you know about this?”
“Are you joking? Gaston kept almost everything a secret.”
“I’ve never had anything named after me before.”
“Who has?” said Deke.
With a twinkle in her eye, Rose declared, “Coquilles are scallops, aren’t they? That’s what I’ll order. And why shouldn’t you have a dish named after you? Gaston obviously thinks you’re an exceptional woman, and I think so, too.”
“Why, thank you,” Drucilla softly replied, casting her gaze modestly downward. Amazing. For the first time, Rose’s obstinate sister-in-law had accepted a compliment without some kind of sarcastic denial.
A jovial mood prevailed throughout the dinner. Whenever Rose looked around, she saw every table full and everyone enjoying themselves. At her own table, she couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so much, what with Drucilla’s dry humor and Deke’s funny stories about herding sheep in Australia. And the food was marvelous. Without question, Gaston’s was an overnight sensation and would take its place as the best French restaurant outside of San Francisco, if not in San Francisco, too.
Julien had just served dessert when a stir swept through the crowded restaurant. “It’s him!” Rose heard someone say. “Gaston himself!” Looking toward the kitchen, she spotted her French chef threading his way through the tables. For the first time, he was wearing his full chef’s regalia: white double-breasted jacket, hound’s-tooth-patterned black and white pants, an amazingly high white chef’s hat. “It’s called a toque blanche,” Gaston had told her. “The higher it is, the more important you are.” That certainly fit, considering Gaston’s lofty opinion of himself.
Ignoring proffered compliments along the way, Gaston headed straight to their table. When he arrived, Rose and Deke might just as well not have been there. The chef had eyes only for Drucilla. In turn, she wasn’t acting her normal self at all but was gazing up at him as if she were spellbound.
Gaston regarded her with a piercing gaze. “So, Mademoiselle Drucilla, did you enjoy your dinner?”
Drucilla’s cheeks colored a deep red. “I did indeed, monsieur.”
“And what did you have?”
“The Coquilles a la Drucilla.” A little smile crossed her face. “I’ve never had a dish named after me before.”
“Perhaps it will be the first of many. We will talk later.”
“Yes, I would like that.”
Gaston finally turned his attention to Rose. “Well, what do you think?”
“About the restaurant? I think you’ve done a fantastic job. I couldn’t be happier.”
Gaston nodded with satisfaction, said a quick goodbye, and headed back to his kitchen. Rose turned to Drucilla. “Perhaps Gaston has a few tiny faults, but he’s a brilliant man, so talented in so many ways.”
Drucilla got a grin on her face. “I must say, I agree.”
“Maybe an inch or two isn’t so much after all.”
“Perhaps. At least he looks taller with that hat on.”
Would wonders never cease? Gaston was a genius for finding the one thing that would make an impression on her prickly sister-in-law. What a relief that Drucilla appeared to have come to her senses. As for her own self…
She had a lot to sort out. All through dinner, she’d looked at Deke through different eyes, as if a new awareness had awakened inside her. Maybe the crutches had blinded her to what an exceptional man he was in so many ways, but whatever the reason, up to now she’d failed to notice how witty he was, what a compassionate heart he had. And besides all that, she’d worried he wouldn’t know how to handle himself in elegant surroundings, would act like some ill-mannered rube. Instead, his impeccable dress and manners were a match for the most refined gentleman in the place. Up to now, he’d been just a friend, even after those hours she’d spent in his room, but how did she feel now? Was she falling in love with him because he looked good in his evening clothes? She laughed to herself. She couldn’t be that shallow. She needed to talk to him. Alone. What would he suggest after dinner? A buggy ride in the moonlight would be a good choice. After that, she would end up in his room over the stable. In his bed. In his arms. And when that happened, he would know, and she would know, too, that with all her heart, with every fiber of her being, she was falling in love with Deke Fleming.
At the end of dinner, the three were wending their way through the tables toward the exit when Rose spotted Mason Talbot dining with two men she recognized as among Sacramento’s most prominent citizens. Oh no! The last person in the world she wanted to see. She turned her head away, hoping she could slip by without his noticing, but no such luck.
“Rose?”
No way out. She had to stop and talk to him. “Why, Mason, how nice to see you. What a pleasant surprise.”
He stood, threw his napkin down, and strode around the table to greet her. Dressed impeccably as always, he was all congeniality as he reached to shake her hand. “May I offer my congratulations? My friends and I have been enjoying a most excellent dinner. Your new restaurant is an instant success.” He peered over her shoulder to where Deke and Drucilla stood waiting. “Good evening, Miss Peterson, and this is…?”
Deke stepped forward. “We’ve met before.” He did not extend his hand.
“Ah, yes.” Mason lost his smile. “The Australian. I remember.”
“How could you forget?”
“I hear you’re peddling ice now.”
Rose couldn’t miss the nasty undertone in Mason’s voice. She hastily broke in before Deke could answer. “We must move on. Lovely seeing you, Mason.”
Once outside the restaurant, Drucilla made a quick escape, claiming she must get home. Rose turned to Deke. “What was that all about? You looked as if you’d like to punch him in the nose.”
“Did I?” Deke shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s not let the likes of Mason Talbot ruin our evening. Want to go for a buggy ride?”
Indeed she did. Any further discussion concerning Mason could wait. “That would be lovely. I must stop by my room first to freshen up.”
He flashed a smile that grabbed at her heart. “I’ll get my carriage and meet you in front.”
Her spirits soared as she practically ran upstairs to her room on the second floor. She’d had high hopes for this evening. So far, it had gone even better than she’d expected, and it wasn’t over yet. She made haste to freshen up, left her room, and started down the staircase. A man was waiting at the bottom, only this time it wasn’t Deke. “Hello again, Mason.” She tried to ignore the cold, hard stare he was giving her. “So you enjoyed the dinner?”
“We must talk.”
He was angry. She could tell not only from the tight set of his jaw but from the fast, short breaths he was taking. She heartily wished she could put him off, but her good sense warned her she’d better not. “Shall we go to my office?”
“Fine.”
Filled with anxiety, she led him toward the back of the hotel. Except for that one occasion when he’d told her she ought to sell the River Queen, Mason had always been so friendly and congenial. Obviously something she’d done had set him off, but she wasn’t sure what it was. He followed her down the dimly lit hallway until they reached her office, now nearly pitch black inside. “Wait a second, Mason, while I light the lamp.”
“Don’t bother. Leave the door open. There’s enough light from the hallway.”
He gripped her arm and led her inside. She went willingly and didn’t pull back, not sure he’d have let her get away. In front of the desk, he turned to face her. Even in the dim light from the hallway she could see enough of his expression to know how furious he was. She would try to keep her voice calm. “Why are you so angry?”
“Do you know who I am?” His voice held a strangled quality, as if he could hardly keep himself under control.
“Of course, I know who you are.”
“Apparently you don’t. What you don’t understand is, I am not a man to be trifled with.”
“I’ve never trifled with you in my life. What have I done?”
“What have you done? How can you ask after all the help I’ve given you? The time I’ve taken to advise you? All the gifts I’ve given you?”
“You know I’m grateful.”
He burst into bitter laughter. “So grateful you chose to dine with someone else.”
Ah, so that was it. He was jealous she’d invited Deke for dinner. What could she say? Mason had good reason to be jealous, and she wasn’t going to lie. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m not obligated to you in any way.”
Cursing softly, he gripped her shoulders. “I’ve tried to be patient, but this is the thanks I get?”
Such venom in his voice! No sense reasoning with him, just get out of here. She tried to back away. With a snarl of anger, he pulled her close. “You need to be taught a lesson, my dear.” His arms locked tight around her and pulled her toward him so roughly the breath went out of her. Before she could even begin to struggle, he bent her over his arm and kissed her, his lips crushing hers, not in a loving way but in a cruel, hard way that made her skin crawl. Locked tight in his arms, she couldn’t begin to struggle. All she could do was gather her strength and try to get out of here the second he let her go. If he let her go. In a panic, she started to struggle.
“Blimey! What the hell?”
Mason let her go. She pushed away from him and looked toward the door. Even in the dim light, she could see it was Deke standing there. She searched for words, but before she could get them out, he spoke again.
“Sorry. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
The next second he was gone. She stared at the empty doorway. Dear Lord, what have I done? But she hadn’t done anything. How would Deke know that, though? Judging from what he’d seen, he must be thinking the worst of her. She must find him, tell him he was wrong. She started toward the door, but Mason grabbed her arm. “I’m not through with you.”
“Oh, yes you are.” She gave him a swift kick in the shin. He grunted and dropped her arm. Fast as she could go, she ran from her office and along the dim corridor. When she reached the saloon, she slowed her pace and gazed with desperation around the crowded room. No Deke. He must have already gone outside. She lifted her skirt and hurried through the saloon, vaguely aware of the many curious eyes that were following her. No doubt she was making a spectacle of herself, but she didn’t care. Let them laugh at the finely dressed lady who’d lost her decorum. All she cared about was finding Deke before he got away.
She pushed through the swinging doors. He’d parked his carriage directly in front. He had just climbed in and was picking up the reins. She ran to the carriage, grabbed hold of Sidney’s harness, and looked up at him. “Don’t go. Let me explain.”
“What is there to explain? I have eyes, haven’t I?”
The coldness in his voice stabbed at her heart. “I know what it looked like, but it wasn’t what it seemed. Mason Talbot means nothing to me.”
“It didn’t look that way.”
“But it wasn’t my idea. Didn’t you see he was forcing me? He—” What was she doing? The more she defended herself, the guiltier she sounded. “Please, Deke, we need to talk.”
“Why? I have nothing say to you.” He gazed down at her, a lethal calmness in his eyes. “He’s the man who killed your husband. Had you forgotten?”
What was he getting at? “Of course I haven’t forgotten, but Mason wasn’t to blame. It was Emmet who insisted on the duel.”
His mouth took on a cynical twist. So unlike him. “You’re a fool, Rose Peterson. Go talk to Jake Grunion. He’ll set you straight about your wonderful Mason Talbot. Let go of the harness.”
She released the harness and stepped away. Flinging her hands out in simple despair, she watched as Deke drove away without another word, never once glancing back.