Chapter 7
Sitting behind his desk, Archer Field furrowed his brow in puzzlement as he stroked his well-trimmed goatee. His gaze rested on Rose. “Would you repeat that, Mrs. Peterson? I didn’t quite grasp your meaning.”
Rose sat facing the solicitor, the envelope clutched tight in her hands. To her right sat Mason Talbot. To her left, Ben and Coralee sat stiff and stony-faced. The three had driven into town together amidst a miserable astrosphere of hostile silence. In a steady voice, Rose replied, “I’m happy to repeat it, Mr. Field. The River Queen is mine, and I can prove it.”
“How so? Can you explain?” The solicitor leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers together.
Rose pulled some papers from the envelope and held the top one up. “This is my marriage license, showing that I was legally married to Emmet Peterson on August 20, 1847.” She laid it on her lap and held up the next. “This is my parents’ will. Since I was the only child, and they had no other male heirs, clearly their property was left entirely to me, and that included the Birchwood Inn in Cairo, Illinois.”
Mr. Field nodded agreeably. “So?”
Rose held up the third document. “Shortly after my parents died, and directly before I was married, I sold the Birchwood Inn for twenty-five thousand dollars. Here’s the bill of sale. As you may know, in the State of Illinois when a woman marries, all her assets belong to her husband, so naturally, when I married Emmet, the money from the sale of the inn went to him.”
Ben turned and glared at her. “That’s absolutely right. So what are we doing here? This is a waste of time.”
“Hold on.” Rose pulled the last paper from the envelope. Not a document this time but a letter. Strange, how her hand was steady and her heart beat at a normal rate. It must be because she knew she was right. In a steady voice, she continued. “This is a letter written by Emmet to me after he bought the River Queen. I’m going to read it.” She smoothed out the folded pages and began, “‘My Dear Rose…’ I’ll skip the personal part.” She skimmed down to what was important and kept reading. “‘You’ll be interested to know I just bought a hotel called the River Queen. Although it needs work, I consider it a splendid piece of property, situated on a choice piece of land not far from the Sacramento River. It’s all thanks to you, considering I used your twenty-five thousand from the sale of the Birchwood Inn to buy the River Queen. Without that, I could never have bought it.’” Rose lowered the paper and raised her eyes. “Well, Mr. Field? My money was used to buy the River Queen. Doesn’t this prove it’s mine?”
The solicitor allowed a long moment of silence to go by. “It appears that it does. Leave those documents with me. I’ll run them by the judge, but if those are the facts, then yes, I can see why you’d have first claim on the property.”
Rose got up and laid the envelope on the solicitor’s desk. The hotel was hers! She looked to where her in-laws sat thunderstruck. She wasn’t done yet. Seated again, she said, “I want to make it perfectly clear that all I want is the hotel. Whether or not I have a claim on the farm, it doesn’t matter. I want the farm to go to my mother- and father-in-law. As for the money in Emmet’s bank account, would it be possible that we could divide it equally?”
“I don’t see why not.” Mr. Field turned to Ben. “Would you agree to that, Mr. Peterson?”
Please say it’s all right. Rose held her breath. She was doing her best to act sure of herself, but if she had to take much more of her in-law’s hostility, she might break down and weep. Maybe she should give up. Be the docile daughter-in-law again. Maybe…
Ben glanced at Coralee, and when she nodded, he said, “This whole thing is a travesty. My daughter-in-law has lost her mind. However, because my wife and I have better things to do than fight her ridiculous claims, I shall agree to take the farm. She can have that den of iniquity and good riddance.”
The solicitor solemnly inquired, “By ‘den of iniquity’ can I assume you mean the River Queen Hotel?”
Ben’s lip curled in disgust. “It’s a vile place of wickedness, Mr. Field. I cannot imagine how my daughter-in-law would want anything to do with it, but apparently that’s her choice.”
“Fine, then. The matter is settled.” Archer Field made a show of gathering the papers on his desk and stacking them together. “As I understand it, you wish to divide the money in Emmet’s account. This will take at least three days, possibly longer. When everything is ready to sign, I’ll let you know.”
She’d won! The River Queen was really hers. If she were alone, she’d have danced a little jig. Her in-laws got up to leave. Ben left without so much as a backward glance. Coralee turned to her and asked in a frosty voice, “Well, are you coming? We’re going straight home.”
Rose hesitated. She didn’t want to be with them right now, not when they were showing such hostility. How could she make them see she was only standing up for herself?
Mason stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Peterson. I’ll take her home. But first I’d like to give your daughter-in-law a tour of the town.” His gaze shifted to Rose. “If you would like, of course.”
With a hidden sigh of relief, Rose answered, “That would be lovely.”
“Fine then.” Mason offered her his arm. “You’re about to see the sights of Sacramento. I might even give you a tour of my brewery.”
* * * *
A tour of the town was just the distraction Rose needed. Ben and Coralee’s hostility had lain like a heavy weight on her shoulders. Now, thanks to Mason, it had lifted, if only for a little while. Sitting by his side in his sporty phaeton, she couldn’t help but notice how heads turned as they drove through the streets. Again, she heartily wished her new dresses and bonnets were ready, but they weren’t, so no use fretting about it. At least Mason made her feel so comfortable she didn’t feel awkward and dowdy sitting next to one of the town’s prestigious civic leaders. The excursion was delightful. He’d shown her the beautiful wetlands where the American and Sacramento rivers came together. The tour of his brewery had been far more interesting than she’d expected. She learned how beer was made as he guided her through his three-story Talbot’s Brewery. Several kinds were produced, including Talbot’s Cream Ale which, according to Mason’s proud description, had such a rich flavor, foaming appearance, and cooling qualities that it was the favorite of everyone, everywhere.
Toward the end, Mason took her to Walker’s Emporium, a large store on Front Street that sold everything from farm equipment to furs, fans, lace, and all kinds of perfumery. Mason led her through the store to the perfume counter where he asked the female clerk if the store carried Eau de Cologne Impériale. Indeed it did, and soon an exquisitely cut glass bottle of perfume sat on the counter. Mason picked it up, removed the stopper, and offered it to Rose. “Take a sniff. It’s from Pierre Guerlain, the favorite of Empress Eugenie, wife of Napoleon III.”
Rose had never owned such expensive perfume, nor had anyone in her family. She’d never even smelled any. She held it to her nose and took a sniff. The delightful fragrance of rosemary, orange, and lemon verbena wafted past her nostrils. “It’s very nice.”
“Then it’s yours.”
She opened her mouth to say no, thank you, but before she could, he spoke again. “Yes, I know. The rule is a lady doesn’t accept such a gift from a gentleman, but that’s a Cairo, Illinois, rule. You’re in the West now.” He arched an eyebrow. “New state. New set of rules. I want you to have it, no obligation whatsoever.”
How charming he was. How generous. He’d said no obligation. Looking into those honest blue eyes, how could she not believe him? Besides, after what he just said, she’d sound like a prig if she refused. “No obligation?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Thank you, Mason. I shall treasure it.”
After they left the store, the small package tucked safely in her reticule, he suggested they visit another store, but she declined. She’d been away from Lucy all day and really should get home. As they drove along Front Street in the center of town, they encountered a horse-drawn wagon piled high with big chunks of ice that was coming the other way. A man was driving, and it was…Deke! Her heart jumped when she saw him. Quickly she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. She thought he nodded back but couldn’t be sure.
* * * *
Deke turned his head to look after the phaeton that had just passed him by. He’d only caught a glimpse, but that definitely was Rose. But what was she doing with that low-down snake, Mason Talbot? Had she forgotten he was the man who’d shot her husband? And that wasn’t the half of it. She ought to be set straight, but far be it for him to interfere. All his life, he’d kept to his own business, and he’d keep doing just that.
He flicked the reins. Better move along, or the ice would all melt and he wouldn’t make a penny.
* * * *
In near darkness, Mason reined the horses to a stop in front of the farmhouse and sprang with alacrity from the carriage. He circled around and held out his arms. She would just as soon help herself down, but she clasped his hands and let him swing her to the ground. He didn’t let go her hands, and when he started to draw her toward him, she knew he was going to kiss her. She could easily give in, but not having the least desire to find herself in the arms of Mason Talbot, she drew back. He immediately let her go. “You must forgive me. It’s just that I am so damnably attracted to you that I…” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Am I forgiven?”
She had no wish to hurt his feelings. “I’m a widow in mourning. I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” Smooth as ever, he continued, “By society’s rules, it’s too soon, but may I take you to dinner sometime?”
She smiled up at him. “I suppose it’s too soon according to Cairo, Illinois, rules, but as you’ve pointed out, this is the West, so yes, I would love to.”
“When?”
“As soon as I’m the legal owner of the River Queen. I hope you understand.”
“I understand perfectly. You have too much on your mind right now. We’ll wait until you get the deed. Then we’ll have something to celebrate.”
As Mason drove away, Rose stood on the porch and looked after him. What a nice man, and how very considerate. She knew he wanted her, just from the way he’d tried to kiss her. He’d talked about waiting a decent interval, and that probably meant only one thing. Clearly things moved fast in the Old West. He was courting her, wanted to marry her, and she ought to be thrilled. Mason Talbot was a fantastic catch, the kind of man every woman dreamed of. What more could she ask for? If she wanted, she could give up all thought of running a hotel and live in luxury the rest of her life. The trouble was, she didn’t want to give up the River Queen and wasn’t in the least elated that a rich, handsome, charming man had wanted to kiss her. What was wrong with her? She ought to feel grateful, considering she hadn’t been kissed since Emmet went away. And even then, Emmet and his quick little pecks was about as exciting as feeding the hogs. Come to think of it, only once in her life had she got the kind of kisses that made her toes curl, and that was when Anthony Parks lured her to his room and drove her wild. Even now, she felt a jolt inside remembering that night. One night out of a lifetime. She pressed her hand over the locket that lay hidden beneath the bodice of her dress. Not likely it would ever happen again.
One thing she realized: what she told Mason was a lie, partly anyway. True, she was a widow, but that didn’t automatically mean she was in mourning. The truth was, although she was saddened by Emmet’s death, she was far from being heartbroken and devastated. How could she be for a man she hadn’t seen in two years and hadn’t loved in the first place?
And that was an unfortunate fact she would keep to herself.
She found everyone in the parlor when she went inside. Not wanting to talk, she tiptoed by and headed straight to her room. She lit a candle and found Lucy in bed, wide awake, flinging her arms out to greet her. “Mommy, I missed you!”
“I missed you, sweetheart.”
“Did you give Grandpa the farm?”
“Yes, I did, but I kept the hotel.”
“Is he mad?”
“Maybe a little bit, but he’ll get over it.” Rose held her daughter tight. She hoped she was doing the right thing. Above all else, Lucy must be safe and happy. Perhaps the best thing to do would be give up this crazy idea of running a hotel and get married again. She’d have security. Lucy would have a father. But Mason Talbot? Well, perhaps…
Drifting off to sleep, her last thoughts were of Deke Fleming. What on earth was he doing with a wagon full of ice? She hoped they’d meet again soon so he could tell her what he was up to. And also… She wasn’t sure why, but she enjoyed talking to him. Not that he flattered her liked Mason did. There was just something about Deke that made her want to see him again.
* * * *
In the morning, Rose found her sister-in-law in the kitchen. Ordinarily, at this early hour Drucilla didn’t say much but today she was all bouncy, her usual taciturn expression replaced by a smile. “What are you so happy about?” Rose asked.
Drucilla’s eyes lit. “You’d never guess. I was visiting Dulcee yesterday and discovered she loves to read, just like I do. She has got a whole shelf full of books. Nathaniel Hawthorne, William Thackeray, the Bronte sisters, and lots more. She loaned me Jane Eyre, and when I’m done with that, she’ll let me have Vanity Fair. Think of it. Rose! I’ve got something to read again.”
Rose remembered the day they left Illinois. There’d been no room in the wagons for her sister-in-law’s huge collection of books. She’d come close to weeping when she learned she’d have to leave them all behind. “That’s wonderful, Drucilla. I haven’t seen you this happy since we left Illinois.”
“Ma doesn’t think it’s so wonderful. She’s still after me, thinks reading is a waste of time. What I should be doing is looking for a husband.”
How many times had Rose heard this? “You’re thirty years old. You should do what you want to do, not what anyone else wants.”
“Around here, finding a husband wouldn’t be hard. When I go into town, there’s men everywhere, swarming the streets. They stare at me like I’m a great beauty, which is ridiculous. Even so, if I so much as crooked my little finger, they’d come running, I could get married tomorrow if I wanted to.”
“But you don’t, and that’s that. You should read your books and stop worrying.”
“You always manage to cheer me up, Rose. I just wish…” Drucilla heaved a sigh. “This thing with the hotel. Are you certain? Mother and Father are so upset. I hate it that you’re hardly speaking to one another. It’s like a funeral around here.”
“You think I don’t miss the chats and the laughter? I hate it too. I’d give anything if things were back to normal.” Rose paused to think. “Well, almost anything. The River Queen is rightly mine, and I’m not backing down. Ben and Coralee haven’t been very kind to me, but that doesn’t matter. I couldn’t ask for better grandparents for Lucy, and you know I still love them, no matter what. I promise you, when everything’s settled, I’ll do everything I can to make us a happy family again.”
“But when will everything be settled?”
“I’m not going near the River Queen until the deed is mine. Mr. Field said it would take at least three days.”
* * * *
Three very long, uncomfortable days. On the first day, Dulcee stopped by for a visit. She nodded with approval when Rose told her the news. “Good for you, missy. Didn’t I tell you to have faith in yourself? Looks like you did and got what you wanted.”
“But at what price? Ben and Coralee are hardly speaking to me.”
“They’ll come ’round. Just give it some time, and don’t forget you’re stronger than you think.”
Was she? Dulcee’s encouragement helped, but Ben and Coralee’s disapproval weighed heavily upon her. The time passed slowly. Rose avoided her in-laws as much as she could, spending much of her time outdoors. There was plenty to do. Ben hadn’t yet found a replacement for Deke, so a reluctant Raymond had been recruited to feed the horses and oxen, milk the cow, slop the pigs, and whatever else needed doing. Rose volunteered to take care of the chickens and kept herself busy scattering their feed, collecting eggs, and cleaning the coop. Every time she went into the tank house, she ran her hands through the chicken feed. The delightful feeling always made her think of Deke. How was he doing? Where was he hauling a wagon full of ice, and why? She hoped she’d see him next time she went to town.
* * * *
All his life, Deke Fleming had managed to take everything in his stride, prepared to cope with whatever problem came along. Now, sitting on the examining table in the office of Dr. Horace Andrews, he wasn’t so sure. Saw in hand, the doctor was about to cut the cast off. When he took a look at the leg, what would he say?
Sorry, son, it didn’t heal quite right and you’ll have a permanent limp.
Or even worse: What a shame. Well, it was a bad break and you shouldn’t have expected it to heal properly. You’d better get accustomed to those crutches. You’ll be using them the rest of your life.
Oh, God.
Dr. Andrews started sawing. The two sides of the cast fell apart. He bent over the leg for a closer look. Carefully he felt along the shin bone, then looked up and smiled. “Excellent! It’s healed perfectly. Considering the severity of the break, you’re a lucky man, Deke.”
“I won’t have a limp?”
“Doesn’t look that way. You’ll have to try it out, but it looks like you’ll walk as normally as ever.”
Deke wasn’t much of a praying man. He left all that religious business to his devout friend, Mitch. Even so, outside the doctor’s office, he raised his eyes to the sky. He was a whole man again. Not a cripple. Thank you, God.
He headed back to the ice house, a bit shaky at first but soon was walking with long, sure strides. Take a look at me now, Mrs. Rose Peterson.