He wasn’t listening. She stood, brushing her hands over the coarse texture of her dress. “I love you, Wilson, and I forgive you. If you win the Humphries Competition, I will be happy for you, but not as happy as I would have been had you won without inflicting so much damage along the way.”
One stubborn man down, another to go. She left Mason Street and walked to her next stop. Delicate shafts of sunlight pierced the fog and brightened her path. It gave her a bit of hope. God, may Daniel and I come to a better understanding than Wilson and I did.
When she shut the street door to Whitstone & Blair behind her, the sound echoed through the empty waiting area. Mrs. Crabtree was not at her desk, nor were there indications of anyone in the office, no chatter, scrape of chairs or shuffle of papers. Josie tiptoed farther into the room, the rustling of her gown the room’s lone noise. Should she call out? Where was everyone?
She was about to noisily clear her throat when Mrs. Crabtree walked past the hall door, a silver tray in hand. She glanced at Josie and startled, setting the tray wobbling.
“Miss, you gave me a fright.” One hand landed atop a china coffeepot, holding it still.
Josie hurried to take the tray from the older woman. It wasn’t heavy, so the coffeepot must be empty. “I wasn’t certain anyone was here.”
Mrs. Crabtree sighed. “They’re still in Mr. Whitstone’s office. Those two were here all night, re-creating the Humphries plans.”
“I was hoping they’d found them.” Josie glanced at the clock. Just after eleven. “They don’t have long to finish.”
Mrs. Crabtree frowned. “A shame, I say.”
“Perhaps I might leave a note on Mr. Blair’s desk?” At Mrs. Crabtree’s nod of approval, Josie lifted the tray an inch. “Where can I put this?”
“With me, miss. I’m about to brew a fresh pot. There will be a cup for you if you’d like to wait.” She took the tray and smiled, as if she liked Josie now. Perhaps it was the dress. Or perhaps it was because Josie was the one female in Daniel’s life who didn’t barrage Mrs. Crabtree for his favor.
Still, she dare not accept Mrs. Crabtree’s invitation. “Thank you, ma’am, but I wish to be gone when the gentlemen come out of the office. They have so much on their minds.”
Mrs. Crabtree’s smile grew.
Josie took hurried, silent steps to Daniel’s office. Paper and pencils were always at the ready on the desk. She’d jot a quick note and be out before the coffee finished brewing.
But his office was occupied. A woman in a yellow hat and skirt leaned over the desk, lowering something onto the blotter. A tendril of red hair hung loose at her nape.
“Goldie Addis, what are you doing here?”
Goldie shrieked, spun around, and covered her mouth with her hands. Behind her, a cylinder rolled off the desk and onto the floor with a thunk.
Josie dashed to scoop the tube from the floor. It was heavy, as if filled with rolled pages. “Are these the Humphries plans?”
“I—I just borrowed them,” she said through her fingers.
“You never wanted Daniel. You wanted your father to win the Humphries Competition. This is how you went about eliminating a rival? Stealing his plans?”
“Not eliminate. He has time to submit them.” Tears filled her eyes. “Father hoped seeing Daniel’s finish work on the exteriors would spark an idea. His firm is failing, you see. But in the end Father realized it was wrong. He’s withdrawing from the competition.” A sob gurgled out.
Josie placed a hand on Goldie’s shoulder while clutching the tube to her like an infant. “Oh, Goldie.”
Mrs. Crabtree rushed into the room, her bosom heaving. “What is the meaning of this?”
Daniel and Harvey followed her, brows knit. They’d discarded their coats, vests, and collars. Daniel’s shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and a bit of shirttail had untucked on the side. His dark hair was mussed, gray circles underscored his eyes, and stubble shadowed his cheeks. He’d never looked more handsome.
Someday, would she stop thinking this way about him? Would the hurt lessen? She swallowed. That was a topic to ponder later, when she had the privacy to cry her eyes raw. For now, she held out the cylinder to Daniel. “They’re here. The Humphries plans.”
“I’m sorry,” Goldie bellowed. Then she dashed from the office.
“I should go after her.” Daniel took a step.
“I’ll do it. You’re better with pen-and-inks, in case something needs repairing.” Harvey dashed out the door.
“She took them for her father, I take it?” At Josie’s nod, Daniel’s exhalation was long and ragged. “I never felt she wanted me, or the thousand dollars.”
Then she was a fool.
Daniel opened the tube and pulled out the papers. He laid them on his desk, counted the pages, and examined each one while the seconds ticked by. Mrs. Crabtree joined him, peering over his shoulder. “It’s them, isn’t it, sir?”
“Yes. Nothing altered.” His eyes were on Josie. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.” She stepped backward. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Please wait.” He followed her, his eyes soft. “Please.”
She shook her head. “I dropped by to wish you well. That was all. Now put on a tie and fix your shirt. You haven’t much time.”
One hand gripped the plans, and the other twitched, like he wanted her to stay. But he had to submit the plans by noon. This was his dream.
She’d make this easy on him.
“Godspeed, Daniel.” She turned on her heel and ran.
Daniel hesitated, taking a full breath of the morning fog still blanketing the city. There was a flavor of the ocean to it, tangy and sharp. The smell of his home. He took hold of the door knocker and let it fall with a sharp clap. The door opened, admitting Daniel to his father’s manse.
Seven days had passed since he’d seen Josie. He’d respected her desire to end the arrangement, but he’d used the time in a way he knew she’d like. He’d spoken with frankness to every female who sent him treats or cards. He conferred with a realtor about land for the Mothers’ Home and another project. He’d ridden his bicycle for the fun of it, not as training for his surely canceled race against Wilson next week. And he’d prayed.
Josie would approve of what he was about to do, too. Something he should have done a long time ago.
He waited in the library. When Father appeared, he extended his hand—the usual routine. But this time, he held his father’s hand and didn’t let go. Father’s brows rose in surprise.
“How are you?” Daniel meant it beyond pleasantry.
“Well enough.” Father looked at their hands. “Do you want something?”
“Just to see you.” Daniel let go and sat where his father bade him, before the desk.
Father took a seat. “How’s work?”
One of Father’s favorite subjects. Daniel smiled. “Our entry to the Humphries Competition was submitted last week. It will be six months before the committee makes a final decision. I am hopeful, but if another architect is chosen, I wish them well.”
“Making concessions already? Where’s your competitive spirit?”
Washed out with high tide. “I far prefer a cooperative spirit. To that end, I want to apologize. Things have not been right between us since Mother died. She stood in the middle and tempered our battles of will. Without her, it’s been difficult, but I’d like to try again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to stop being an architect. Or designing homes for unwed mothers, if that’s the job God gives me. But I want you to know I’m not doing it to hurt you. I may have enjoyed that aspect of it, and I’m not proud of that now. From this day forward, I’m trying with all my might to be who God wants me to be. Part of that means being a better son. How can I do that for you, Father?”
The congressman’s brow furrowed like a wheat field. Then his face relaxed and he chuckled. Was he laughing at him?
“
She put you up to this?”
“Who?” But Josie’s face danced through his brain. Who else?
“Josephine Price. I may have been wrong about her. Just a bit. But politicians shouldn’t be removed from their constituents, so I’ve given thought to what she said.”
“Was she here?” Daniel’s heart chugged like a steam engine.
“Oh yes, chaperoned by some married friend.” Fannie. “Pretty as petunias, those two, but the friend was discreet enough to look at books while Miss Price sat where you are now. Softened me like butter on a hot corncob, flattering my sensibilities as well as my pride. Said she appreciated my hard work in Washington. And then she said she appreciated me. And your mother. For raising such a fine son.”
Daniel’s heart stopped. When it restarted, the thump reverberated through his chest. “What else did she say?”
“That’s it.” Father lifted his hands. “No bid for her Mothers’ Home. No scolding for what a terrible parent I’ve been, although since her visit, I’ve seen places where I haven’t been fair. Like punishing you for surviving the sickness that took your mother.”
Daniel stood. He’d always believed it, but it was a shock to hear his father admit it. “I don’t think she’d want her death to drive us apart. I think she’d prefer it bring us together.”
Blinking, Father nodded and then cleared his throat. “I think so, too.”
He stood and came around the desk with his hand extended. It wasn’t a hug or a promise, but it was a start. Daniel took hold and gave a firm shake.
Daniel had one final stop to make, the gingerbread-festooned corner house belonging to Wilson and Nora. To his surprise, he was admitted this time. Wilson grinned. “Congratulations on finishing the Humphries. May the better of us win.”
“Maybe neither of us will win.” A result they wouldn’t know for months. “Either way, I have something to say to you.”
“I’ve been a boor. And I should retract the ad. Josie’s already been by, singing the same tune.” Josie had been here first—again, the firecracker. “Well, you’re right. I went too far this time. Happy now?”
Forgiveness didn’t always feel good, even when the path was right. Daniel extended his hand and shook Wilson’s. “Better. But I’ll not compete with you again.”
“We have a race next week, though. You mean to cancel?”
“I’ll ride with you whenever you wish. For the fun of it.”
Wilson chuffed. “Boring.”
Nora strode into the room, waving the newspaper. “Daniel’s not boring. He’s exhausted, thanks to you and the good ladies of San Francisco.” She offered Daniel her hand.
“The pressure’s abating. My would-be companions know I am not available. There may be a reward on me, but I want no part of it.”
“So you placed the ad, then?” Nora’s brow lifted.
“I placed the ad.” Wilson frowned. “Everyone knows that.”
“Not that one. Today’s.” Nora handed the newspaper to Daniel, and Wilson looked over his shoulder. There it was—the font and size matched Wilson’s ad, making it resemble a law enforcement poster. Daniel read it twice.
The heart of San Francisco’s Most Eligible Bachelor
Daniel Blair, Architect
Is his to reward, not to be won for a prize
Love is Love’s Reward
“Who placed this?” Nora sat on her new plum sofa.
Wilson’s expression was shrewd. “Care to share your thoughts on the identity?”
Not with Wilson. Daniel flicked the paper onto the coffee table and made for the door. “Sorry, chap. I’ve someplace to be.”
Chapter 9
Josie peered down at her pedaling feet and groaned. A streak of grease the length of a celery stick marred her buff skirt. She readjusted the short skirt over her black stockings to keep the fabric from the greasy chain of her Yellow Fellow. She didn’t have to worry about such a thing when cycling in trousers, but as long as she paid attention, she could wear more feminine attire and get where she wished while keeping her ensemble neat.
Unless she wasn’t paying attention, like today, thinking of Daniel.
It was impossible not to. The ad came out today. Had he seen? Would it make a difference to the horde of females seeking the prize of his heart for the thousand dollars?
Lord, I want Your best for him. Help him with the changes in his life.
She pedaled harder as she neared the entrance to Golden Gate Park. Perspiration soaked her cotton blouse, but at least her jade-green jacket would hide any embarrassing evidence of her exertion. Though why she worried about convention now was a surprise.
Perhaps I’ve changed, too.
She rounded sweet-smelling Strawberry Hill when someone called out. She pulled to the side, certain she blocked a faster rider’s path, but the rider pulled up beside her. Daniel. Her knees wobbled. Sweat dotted his brow, and his breaths were ragged. How hard had he been riding? Training for his race with Wilson, no doubt.
He stared at her with those long-lashed eyes. “Hello, Josie.”
She licked her lips. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Nothing coincidental about it. Your father told me where you’d be. Would you have a minute?”
She had forever, if he wanted it. “You rode this hard just to find me?”
“There’s so much I want to say to you.” He led her off the path and leaned their bicycles against a young eucalyptus. “Thank you for your advertisement, for one thing. There’s not a single lady in town who’d pursue me now.”
Heat tinged her cheeks. “I overstepped, I know, but that competition wasn’t fair to you or the women who took it to heart.”
“I’ve said as much to the ladies who kept coming by. But after today, I’m no longer the town’s most eligible bachelor.”
“Glad the ad helped.” But her stomach felt hollow.
“Not because of the ad. I’m not available.” A victorious smile played about his lips.
Did that mean he had a sweetheart now? Olive or Goldie or Estelle, or one of the other women? Or did he mean no one? He was a bachelor forever? She fumbled for words, but Daniel touched her arm.
“Another thing. I bought land to donate for the Mothers’ Home. I consulted with Mrs. Predmore, and she approved the site.”
He was so kind. Even though fissures rent through her heart, she wanted to hug him. “Thank you, Daniel. You’re wonderful.”
“The realtor thinks so, too, for all the commission he’s getting off me. I’m moving out of Mrs. Beake’s and buying land. Every architect worth his compass and square wants to build his own house.”
“Congratulations. It’s time, I suppose.”
He led her into the shade but held on to her hand. “High time indeed. I waited because I want something different. A bit of land overlooking the water, away from the crowds and cable cars. Sure, I need a place in the city for now, but I’ve got a future in mind. I want growing space for a passel of children. Dogs that eat paper. And a Turkish Angora cat.”
Oh. Oh, oh. Fire flushed her veins. But he’d have to work harder than this. “If you want a Turkish Angora cat, you’d better ask Estelle what she thinks.”
“I was thinking a kitten. And the girl who’s kept her for me these past weeks.” His half smile fell into a look so tender it stopped her heart. “All this talk of rewards makes a body think there’s something good at the end of the road, not throughout the journey. But it isn’t true with God, or with you. The greatest reward of our friendship is you, and every moment we’ve shared together. You are my beloved.”
Love is love’s reward. When he pulled her closer, she went willingly.
“There’s never been anyone but you. Even when you were just a girl and I was too old for you, I couldn’t resist the spark in your eyes. Then we got older and I didn’t think you noticed me, but now that you’re here, I don’t want to let you go. I love you, Josie. And I will love you until I die.” His breath was warm on her cheek. “I ho
pe you’ll do me the honor of becoming my wife, so I can show you how much I love you every day God gives us to share together. And because I want to kiss you again, and do a better job than I did after the cable car.”
Josie couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t answer him. But when he lowered his head, she sighed. His warm lips were light, tentative. Not at all like their first time. She returned the kiss, and one of his hands cupped her cheek while the kiss changed again. A bit more urgent. Sweetness thrummed through her veins.
After a moment, or many moments, he lifted his head. “Is that a yes?”
She bounced on her toes. “I love you, Daniel Blair. Yes, yes, yes—”
“Hey, there, watch your hands with the little lady.” A man’s voice intruded. Daniel’s hands hadn’t been anywhere they shouldn’t have been, but he dropped them as if she’d grown thorns.
“Wilson.” Her cheeks heated again.
“Your timing is terrible,” Daniel said as her brother approached, pushing his bicycle.
Wilson shook his head, but he was smiling. “Looks like his heart is captured at last. I suppose the cash reward is yours, sis.”
“I couldn’t accept a prize for a contest I didn’t enter. Nor one I find so reprehensible.” She grinned when Wilson rolled his eyes. “But now that you mention it, I have a few ideas of what you could do with a thousand dollars.”
“A donation to the Ladies’ Aid Society, perhaps?”
“Or the church. Nora can help you decide. Wives and husbands make decisions together, after all.” She couldn’t resist peeking at Daniel.
His smile warmed her to her toes. “Which is why I haven’t bought the land yet. I wanted your approval.”
“Speaking of consent,” Wilson said, “you may want to get some before you kiss my sister in public again.”
“Your father said yes. To marriage, not the kissing,” Daniel said. “So did your mother, in fact, and she’s starting on the lily pond painting for us. My father also gave his blessing.”
“A miracle,” she teased. But maybe it was. God worked all sorts of them, but she often forgot to notice.
The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons Page 13