Chapter 5
Rose didn’t sleep well that night. She was having a hard time suppressing her resentment that her father-in-law considered her opinion so unimportant he hadn’t even asked if she wished to sign those papers. She would, though. She couldn’t imagine not signing and had definitely made up her mind.
In the morning, she helped with breakfast as usual. In contrast to that first day when the cupboards were bare, an abundance of food filled every shelf, nook, and cranny in the kitchen. Not only had the family bought their own provisions, neighbors from all around brought offerings of everything from oranges, walnuts, and all kinds of vegetables to slabs of beef and a salmon freshly caught from the Sacramento River. Coralee was so grateful she nearly cried. “It’s not the food so much as it is these people care, even though they don’t know us. I felt like a stranger, but now I’m beginning to feel like this is home.”
They would go to the solicitor’s office in the afternoon. As the hour drew closer, a heaviness centered in Rose’s chest. She would sign the papers, even though she couldn’t get Deke’s words out of her head. She’d live to regret it, he said, and she knew she would. Even so, like she’d told Deke, she’d never find the courage to stand up to the family, especially Ben. She cringed at the thought of defying the man who ruled his family with an iron hand.
Toward noon, when no one was in the kitchen except Rose, Dulcee Bidwell from the farm next door arrived with a freshly baked apple pie. “Today’s my baking day,” she said. “Tom picked the apples this morning.” Rose invited her to stay for a cup of coffee, and soon they were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting away. Dulcee was easy to talk to. Like a lot of elderly people, she was frank in a funny kind of way. Commiserating with Rose’s loss, she remarked, “I had three husbands myself. The first two died. The third walked out on me and five children and disappeared. I’d wager he’s dead, too, by now.”
Rose frowned in sympathy. “That’s terribly sad. I can’t imagine the grief you’ve gone through.”
“Piffle.” The old lady sniffed and took a sip of coffee. “I didn’t love any of ’em. I married Murphy, my first husband, because I had to. Tom’s father.” Her eyes twinkled. She brought a finger to her lips. “Shh. To this day Tom thinks he was a seven-month baby, but he wasn’t.”
Rose couldn’t think how to reply. Best to move on. “What happened to Murphy?”
“He was chopping down a tree one day and was dumb enough to be standing in the wrong place when it fell. So there I was, a widow with a young’un, and everyone telling me I should get married again because I was only a woman and how could I make it on my own? So I married Ebenezer, who was the first man I could find who had a clean shirt and no dirt under his fingernails. Five years later, he up and drowned in the Mississippi River. By now I was a widow with four young’uns, so what did I do? You guessed it. Got married again.” Her expression softened. “Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t all bad. It’s just, I never had the kind of love of my life that a girl dreams of. No knight in shining armor, like in the fairy tales.” She cocked an eyebrow. “What about you, missy? Did you love him?”
“Love who?”
“Your husband, of course, unless you had a lover on the side. Don’t let me shock you. It’s my age. I can say anything I want and get away with it because everyone thinks my brain has withered and I can’t help it. Well, it hasn’t.”
“I can see that. As for loving my husband, I…I…”
Dulcee peered over her spectacles. “I thought not. Emmet was a fine man, but at best you could call him sturdy and dependable. At worst, he was a bore, excuse me for saying so. A volcano could erupt in his front yard, and he wouldn’t bother to look. I had more interesting conversations with a tree stump than with Emmet Peterson.”
After a stunned moment, Rose burst into laughter. She looked around to make sure they were still alone. “You’re right. I never loved him. I married him mostly because my parents wanted me to.”
“Thought so.” Dulcee tipped her head. “You’re young and you’re pretty. Did you know there’s fifty men to every woman around here? You won’t have any problem finding another husband, if that’s what you want. Maybe the next one won’t be such a stump.”
Rose hadn’t thought about it yet, but Dulcee’s suggestion made her lift her chin and stoutly declare, “I can tell you right now I’ll never marry again unless it’s to someone I truly love.” She touched the locket at her throat. “I was in love once—weak-in-the-knees in love. It didn’t work out. He broke my heart, but even so, I swear I’ll never bed a man I’m not crazy about.” She sat back in her chair, surprised at herself. She’d never spoken this frankly, but then never had she talked to someone so understanding and sympathetic as Dulcee Bidwell, who brought out the best in her—or was it the worst?
Dulcee’s wrinkled face grew pensive. “I hope you stick with what you said. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t be the wishy-washy woman that I was. I’d stick up for myself. I’d be like a man and not listen to everyone telling me what I ought to do. I’d have the courage to speak up, say what I wanted to say, and the consequences be damned.”
Rose nodded in agreement. “Sometimes that’s hard to do. For years I’ve lived with my in-laws, always looking forward to that wonderful day I would have a home of my own. Now I’m stuck. Not that Ben and Coralee aren’t wonderful people but…” She gave a wordless shrug.
“You’ve sure as heck got yourself a dilemma.” Dulcee got a knowing look in her eye. “You’re not stuck. Nobody’s tying you down. You can do anything you want. Have faith in yourself and you’ll figure out what’s best to do.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“It’s up to you, missy. Don’t underestimate yourself. Now let’s have some of that pie.”
The conversation switched to other, more inconsequential things, but long after her elderly neighbor left, Rose couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. Have faith in yourself and you’ll figure out what’s best to do.
But would she? Did she have the courage?
* * * *
In the afternoon, Ben hitched up the coach. Rose gave Lucy a hug. “I’m going into town for a while, sweetheart, but Aunt Drucilla will be here, and Uncle Raymond, too.”
Always full of questions, Lucy inquired, “Why are you going?”
“Grandpa and Grandma and I are going to the lawyer’s office to sign some papers.” She always tried to be honest. “It seems the farm and hotel legally belong to me, so I must sign them over to your grandpa.”
Lucy frowned in confusion. “But if they’re yours, why don’t you keep them?”
“It’s a long story, and I’ll explain later.”
Why indeed? Rose wondered as she and her in-laws drove into town. She hoped Lucy would forget to ask again.
At the law office, Mr. Field greeted them with a smile, announcing the papers were ready for their signature. After they were seated in front of his large, mahogany desk, he remarked, “I’m expecting Mr. Talbot any moment. He will, of course, be bringing you the check for twenty-one thousand as agreed.”
So they were going to meet Emmet’s killer? Rose sensed both Ben and Coralee flinch as they sat beside her. She, too, got a tightness in her stomach. Ben spoke up. “See here, I didn’t think I’d be meeting the man who killed my son.”
“I understand how you feel.” The solicitor’s voice oozed with sympathy and understanding. “But once you meet him, you’ll see—”
“That’s all right, Archer. Let me explain.”
The deep, silky voice came from behind them. Rose turned in her seat. One of the most handsome men she’d ever seen stood in the doorway. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a thick crop of wavy blond hair, firm mouth, and square-cut jaw. His well-tailored trousers and frock coat, silk cravat and brocade vest made her suddenly conscious of the patched and faded dress she was wearing. What a shame the new dresses she’d ordered weren’t ready. He held an ivory tipped cane and top hat in his large, perfectly manicured hands. With a purposeful stride, he crossed the room, put down the hat and cane, and turned to face them. “Good afternoon. My name is Mason Talbot.” His gaze focused on Ben. “You must be Mr. Peterson. Yes, I’m the man who engaged in a duel with your son, and I want you to know the day doesn’t go by that I…” His mouth set in a grim line. “If there was any way I could have avoided it, I would have done so.”
Ben stood up. Dressed in his plain black Sunday suit, he was no match for the elegantly dressed hotel owner, yet Rose knew he wouldn’t be intimidated by Talbot’s powerful presence. “Tell me why you killed my son,” he said, his voice taut with suppressed anger.
Talbot didn’t appear the least surprised by Ben’s reaction. “The duel was Emmet’s idea, not mine. He did the challenging. I tried reasoning with him, but he wouldn’t listen. When I finally realized I actually might have to go through with it, I appointed Rudy Avery, one of my employees, as my second. I sent Rudy to talk Emmet out of it, but he wouldn’t listen, was hell-bent on going through with it. What could I do? Despite my misgivings, I was honor bound to accept Emmet’s challenge, insane though it was.” Mason’s deep blue eyes gazed into Ben’s. “I’m not presumptuous enough to ask for your forgiveness, sir, but I hope for your understanding.”
A long, tension-charged silence followed. Rose held her breath. Would Ben accept the apology? Punch Mason Talbot in the nose? Storm out? Viewing her father-in-law’s stone-like face, she had no idea what would happen.
At last Ben opened his mouth to speak. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” He sat again.
Rose breathed a sigh of relief as Mason Talbot flashed a congenial smile. “I’m pleased to see you’ve accepted my offer to buy the River Queen. I assure you, it’s a generous one, the least I could do.”
The solicitor also smiled. Ruffling a pile of papers on his desk, he addressed Talbot. “You brought the check?”
Talbot patted his right breast pocket. “Just drawn up at Wells Fargo.”
With a smile of satisfaction, Mr. Field dipped a pen in a bottle of ink and held it out to Rose. “I have some papers for you to sign, Mrs. Peterson. If you’ll step to my desk?”
She started to rise but couldn’t unbend. It was if she was glued to the chair. Deke’s frank advice rang through her head. If the law says you own the hotel and the farm, then so you do, and those in-laws of yours can go take a flying leap. No! She must get out this chair and sign. Again she tried to rise, but her legs refused to move. Dulcee’s wise words crowded Deke’s. If I had it to do over again…I’d have the courage to speak up, say what I wanted to say, and the consequences be damned.”
Seconds went by. Get up! There was still time. If she got up this instant, they’d never know she had the least objection, but if she waited any longer…
Her knees still refused to unbend. Heads began to turn. Coralee, who sat next to her, gave her a nudge. “Mr. Field wants you to sign the papers, dear. You need to go to his desk.”
Ben bent forward and peered around Coralee. “Get up there, Rose. I want this thing signed and done with.”
Too late. The time had passed that she could continue her role as the passive, obedient daughter-in-law. By God, I’m not going to do it. She breathed deep and steadied herself. Even though her heart was pounding, she willed her voice not to shake when she spoke. Instead of the stark fear she expected, a flood of relief ran through her. With far more ease than she expected, she stood and addressed the puzzled solicitor who still held the pen in his outstretched hand. “Are the hotel and farm truly mine, Mr. Field?”
“If you were legally married to Emmet Peterson, they are.”
“Then I don’t choose to sign.” She turned to Mason Talbot. “I’m sorry you’ve gone to this trouble for nothing, sir, but the property is mine and I’m not selling.” With a firm lift of her chin, she turned to Ben and Coralee. “Until this moment, I planned to go through with it and sign. Now I find I cannot. I hope you understand. It’s just…honestly, why should I? If the property is mine, then so it is. You can rest assured, you’ll always have a home on Emmet’s farm however long you choose to live there. As for the hotel, I don’t want to sell because I want to run it myself. Can you possibly understand?” She braced herself for Ben’s wrath. Like Emmet, he had a temper which mostly he managed to control. She’d witnessed a few occasions when he’d lost it, though. His scalding fury had been so frightening, everyone ran for cover.
To her surprise, Ben hardly looked at her. With an easy smile, he turned to the solicitor. “You must forgive my daughter-in-law, Mr. Field. She has just lost her husband, so naturally she’s not thinking clearly.” He threw Rose a quick glance loaded with sympathy. “We’d best get her home and put her to bed.”
“And I’ll get her a nice glass of warm milk.” Coralee stood up and patted Rose on the shoulder. “There, there. It’s going to be all right.”
Rose was so dumbfounded she couldn’t speak. She’d been prepared for her in-laws’ wrath but not this. “I don’t need a glass of warm milk, and I don’t need to go to bed. I meant what I said.”
“Well, of course, you do,” said Coralee. “Whatever you say.”
Go to bed? Warm milk? How outrageous. She had to get out of there. Head held high, she marched from the office of Archer Field, out the front door, and into the teeming traffic on J Street. She started walking, hardly noticing where she was going. She’d been braced for their anger, not their sympathy. How dare they treat her that way? As she continued on, the street became more crowded. She passed a long row of hotels, all with saloons with swinging doors and tinny music pouring through. Men in rough miners’ clothes seemed to be constantly shoving in and out. They seemed a rough lot, smelling of whiskey and tobacco, jostling and shouting curses. A man in a scraggly beard and dirty clothes pointed at her. “Look there! Ain’t she sweet?”
Dear God, she needed to get out of here. The man came staggering after her. She was about to run when…was someone calling her name? She stopped and turned. Deke was approaching on Sidney. As he rode up to her, he frowned down and asked, “Rose, what are you doing here by yourself? Get on.” He reached out his arm. She hesitated. Surely he didn’t have the strength to pull her up. “Take it,” he commanded. So all right then. If he thought he could do it, who was she to argue? She grasped his hand. In an instant, he swung her up and behind him in one effortless motion. Before she knew it, she was seated with arms around his waist, and Sidney was moving up the street at a brisk pace. “Thanks,” she called.
“Blimey, girl!”
Deke said no more until he pulled Sidney to a stop in front of a long wooden building open in the front. “Welcome to the restaurant where all the miners come.” He dismounted and asked, “Need help getting down?”
“I can manage.” She’d ridden horses all her life and swung off with ease.
He retrieved his crutches. Soon they were seated at one of the rough-planked tables, cups of coffee in front of them. “We’re lucky it’s not dinnertime,” he said. “This place is a madhouse then.” He cocked his head. “Now tell me, what were you doing on J Street by yourself? Not a good idea, you know, going for a stroll on one of the rowdiest streets in town.”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Then we won’t,” he replied easily.
She bit her lip. He’d just rescued her. Besides that, the poor man was crippled. She could at least be polite and give him an honest answer. “Sorry. I’m a bit upset, but it’s not your fault. Do you remember what we talked about? That I own the hotel and the farm?” She told him what had occurred in the solicitor’s office. When she mentioned Mason Talbot, his face clouded.
“That scum.”
“You think so? I found him to be quite obliging, and congenial as well.”
Deke remained silent.
“Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not that I don’t care, but Mr. Talbot seemed quite apologetic about the duel and what happened.”
“Mason Talbot apologetic?” Deke got a strange look on his face, as if he wanted to say more, then thought better of it. “Just go on.”
“Nobody took me seriously. My in-laws thought I needed to drink warm milk and lie down. So now what do I do?”
“Sounds like you’ve already done it. What do you care if they don’t believe you? You didn’t sign the papers and that’s what counts. Good for you. You own a hotel, and that’s that.”
She took a moment to ponder. “You’re right. I’m the new owner of the River Queen. It’s just now sinking in.”
“Have you seen it yet?”
“Only on the outside. When Ben saw it, he decided it was much too rowdy for delicate females like myself.”
“You’ve got to see it. I’ll take you.”
“Of course I want to see it.” She regarded Deke with new eyes. Such a nice man, and not bad looking at all. She liked the way deep dimples appeared in his bronzed cheeks whenever he smiled. So far, the conversation had been all about her, and that wasn’t right. “How are you doing, Deke? Do you know where you’re going yet?” Without thinking, she flicked a glance at the crutches resting beside him. “What can you do?”
“I won’t be panning for gold anytime soon. There are other ways to make a living, though. I’ve got some ideas.”
“So you’ll be staying in Sacramento?” He nodded. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad to hear it.” And she was, surprisingly so. Deke was easy to talk to, besides being helpful. “What are your ideas? Will you tell me one?”
“Ice.”
“Ice?” How curious. She wanted to find out more, but a guarded expression had spread over his face, and she’d better not.
“Let’s leave it at that,” he said.
She wouldn’t dream of pursuing the subject. “When we get to the River Queen, I’ll say I’m Emmet’s wife and nothing more. I don’t want them to know I plan to run the place until I talk to Mr. Field. I want to make sure whatever needs to be signed is signed, and everything’s legal.”
“Quite right. Finish your coffee and we’ll go take a look.”