"Your father was a smart man," Chuck said."
"He was a brilliant man. More important, he was a good man and loving father," Wyatt said. "He wanted Silas and me to act like brothers, or at least business partners, so he changed his will. He gave us an incentive to cooperate and behave responsibly. So you see why I am in no hurry to soil his legacy by selling his company to the highest bidder."
Chuck turned again to face the window. As he watched the tugboats disappear into a distant haze, he considered Wyatt and his words. This was not a man who could kill another human being – at least not in cold blood. This was a man who was as honorable and principled as Benjamin Townsend had thought him to be.
Chuck sighed. Despite all that he had learned in Galveston, he was no closer to achieving his goal than when he had arrived. Unless he learned more, an honorable and principled man would soon be tried and executed for a murder he did not commit.
CHAPTER 27: CHUCK
Thursday, May 10, 1900
The smells hit him long before the sights. When Chuck followed Justin through the front door of Charlotte Emerson's blue-and-white gingerbread house, he picked up everything from sausages and eggs to pancakes and fruit. This was a woman, he thought, who knew how to cook.
"Sorry we're late," Chuck said. "We took the wrong trolley this morning and finally got off about eight blocks north of here."
Charlotte smiled.
"You should have walked."
Chuck laughed.
"I guess we should have."
"Please take a seat and join us," Charlotte said as she led the Townsends into the house. "We didn't know if you would make it this morning, so we already started eating."
Chuck looked at the dining area and saw Rose, Goldie, and Emily sitting at a small table and eating the very foods he had smelled on the way in. A card table with two place settings stood in a corner of the room several feet away.
"Good morning, ladies," Chuck said.
Rose, Goldie, and Emily returned the greeting.
"The food looks and smells wonderful," Chuck said.
"Thank you," Charlotte said. "We do have a bit of a seating problem though. Because my regular dining table is being refinished, I was forced to use two smaller tables."
"I don't mind."
"Neither do I," Justin said.
"I didn't think you would," Charlotte said.
"Would you like us to sit at the card table?" Chuck asked.
"No. I have something else in mind," Charlotte said. She turned toward the woman sitting at the far side of the main table. "Emily, would you mind dining with Justin at the card table?"
The young woman stopped eating, put her fork on her plate, and lifted her head. She stared at her friend, hostess, and employer with incredulous eyes.
"I wouldn't mind at all," Emily said in a way that suggested just the opposite. She sat up and shot Charlotte a scolding glance as she moved her plate and utensils to the smaller table.
Chuck laughed quietly as Charlotte set a place for him next to the grown-ups. With one deft stroke, she had placed the Townsend men at the tables of the women they wanted to woo.
"Please help yourselves, gentlemen. All of the food is in the kitchen," Charlotte said. "I'll pour you some coffee while you get your breakfast."
Chuck and Justin entered the kitchen, grabbed their plates, and loaded them like they were at a one-trip buffet. A few minutes later, they found their places in the dining room. When Chuck saw his son settle into a conversation with Emily, he turned to the ladies at his table.
"Thank you for inviting us and letting us intrude on your staff breakfast," Chuck said. "Justin and I usually settle for oatmeal at the beach house."
"We're delighted to have you," Charlotte said.
"I'll second that," Rose said. "It's nice to have handsome men in this house. Charlotte invites a man over for a meal about as often as the mayor passes up a ribbon-cutting."
Chuck and Charlotte laughed. Goldie, who sat across from Rose, did not. She continued to eat her breakfast until the laughter died and the voices at the table quieted.
"How is the rental working out for you?" Goldie asked.
"It's working out well," Chuck said. "I wouldn't mind a bigger kitchen or a more reliable lock on the door, but I can't complain. For five bucks a week, I can't complain at all. Thank you for telling me about it. It's perfect for our needs."
"I'm glad I could help."
When Goldie returned to her breakfast, Chuck took a moment to study the mystery woman of the Texas Maritime Library. Despite what he had learned from other staff, he still knew little about her. He couldn't believe she had served time in prison.
Chuck glanced at Rose, who tore into her sausage like it was her last meal, and then at Charlotte, who gazed at him with eyes that were becoming difficult to ignore. He wasn't sure if there was more to the gaze than simple interest, but he suspected there was. When the gaze began to make him feel uncomfortable, he looked at the center of the table and started a new conversation topic.
"The flowers are beautiful, Charlotte. Did you pick them from your garden?"
"I didn't pick them from anywhere," Charlotte said. "Goldie did."
Chuck looked to his right.
"You picked these at your rental?"
"No," Goldie said. "I picked them from a field west of town."
"Oh."
Charlotte smiled.
"Goldie's a florist when she's not working for me," Charlotte said. "She gathers flowers from local growers, arranges them at home, and distributes them to hotels, restaurants, and offices in Galveston. She's become very successful."
"Is that so?" Chuck asked.
"It is," Goldie said. "I've been doing it for more than a year."
"Well, good for you."
Chuck shook his head as he considered the talent at his table. Within an arm's length, he had a French-speaking pianist, a college-educated actress, and an ex-con-turned-entrepreneur. He wondered if Emily had a background in Slavic languages or nautical engineering.
Chuck glanced at the other table to see if the young adults were getting along and quickly saw he had nothing to worry about. Justin and Emily smiled and laughed like old friends having a genuinely good time.
"So how is your research going?" Rose asked. "I haven't seen you around the library for a few days and wondered whether you had written your book already."
Chuck resisted the temptation to ask Rose how her "research" was going. Though he didn't know for a fact she was dating Wyatt Fitzpatrick, he suspected as much. He knew they knew each other well enough to exchange intimate details about the writer from California.
"My research is going well. The reason you haven't seen me at the library much lately is because I have moved from bookwork to fieldwork. I've started interviewing subjects for my book, including each of the Fitzpatrick brothers. I met Silas for the first time yesterday and will meet with him again tomorrow."
"Have you seen any of the ships?" Rose asked.
"Indeed I have," Chuck said. "Wyatt gave Justin and me a tour of the SS Monterrey yesterday after the passengers had disembarked. He was a gracious guide."
"I'm not surprised," Rose said. "He likes you. He likes both of you."
"He told you this?"
Chuck sipped his coffee.
"He most certainly did," Rose said. "Wyatt and I are friends."
Rose smiled and winked.
Chuck nearly spit out his drink. When he recovered, he glanced at Charlotte and Goldie. The former buried her beet-red face in her hands. The latter stared stoically into space.
"If that's true, then I'm sure Wyatt does like us," Chuck said. "Justin and I like him too. I've found him to be pleasant, helpful, and candid. He's been particularly candid about his family background and his relationship with his brother."
Goldie turned her head.
"Do you plan to put that information in your book?" Goldie asked.
"I didn't at first, but I do now," Chuck said. "
Wyatt and Silas Fitzpatrick are fascinating individuals, but they are not well known outside of Texas. I intend to change that with this book. I intend to change that big time."
CHAPTER 28: JUSTIN
When Justin carried his plate from the kitchen to the dining room, he didn't even bother to look at the four older adults at the main table. He made a beeline for the girl he hadn't spoken to since Sunday afternoon. He didn't think Emily was still mad at him, but he wasn't sure and most certainly wanted to find out.
"I hope you're all right with this," Justin said to Emily as he took his seat at the card table. "If you're not, I can go sit in a corner."
Emily smiled warily.
"You're trying to humor me, Mr. Townsend. You're very good at that."
"I'm only trying to be nice."
"I know," Emily said. "And I appreciate it."
Justin put his napkin in his lap.
"So what should we talk about at the children's table?" Justin asked.
Emily tried to stifle a laugh with a hand and failed. She failed again when Justin mouthed the word "children." When she finally collected herself, she looked at him thoughtfully.
"Perhaps we should talk about your performance on Sunday. I never thanked you for coming to my rescue. No one has ever spoken to my father that way. No one has ever risked angering him to defend my views," Emily said. She paused. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Justin said. "But it's not like it was a chore. I really believe what I said. I think women should have the same rights as men, including the right to vote."
Justin looked at her intoxicating green eyes and saw something he hadn't seen before – or at least since the end of their contentious first encounter. He saw softness, even kindness.
"I know you do. That's why I feel bad about snapping at you the other day. It wasn't my place to judge you for quitting college. I'm sure you had your reasons. I'm sorry."
Justin smiled warmly.
"You don't need to apologize. You just need to sit still and let me look at you."
Emily laughed.
"I should be careful around you."
"Why?" Justin asked.
"You're making me laugh. My mother warned me about men like you."
"I thought she warned you about men who make you smile."
"You're doing both," Emily said. "That makes you twice as dangerous."
Justin laughed.
"All right. I'll stop. I do like making you smile though. Like I said the other day, you have a pretty smile. It's even more appealing than your petulant pout."
Emily turned red.
"Thank you. I think."
Both of them laughed.
Justin couldn't believe his good fortune. He had dreaded coming to this breakfast because he had thought he wouldn't have a good time. Now, he was having the time of his life.
"Do you mind if I ask you a serious question?" Justin asked.
"You might as well. I need a break from your wit."
Justin smiled sadly.
"How come you never finished school? Your mom told me you attended Vassar College in New York last year. She didn't tell me why you dropped out."
Emily sighed and glanced at the other table. When she was apparently convinced that none of the grown-ups were eavesdropping, she answered the question.
"I didn't 'drop out,' as you put it. My father pulled me out. He refused to pay for another year of college – or anything else – unless I seriously entertained a marriage proposal."
"Are you kidding me?" Justin asked.
"I don't kid."
"Whom did he want you to marry?"
Emily glanced again at the others before returning to Justin.
"Silas Fitzpatrick," she whispered.
"Silas?"
Emily cut Justin off by pressing a finger to her lips.
"I can't talk about it – at least not here," Emily said.
Justin nodded.
"I understand. You don't have to tell me anything."
Emily smiled and briefly put a hand on his.
"Thank you."
Justin took another moment to assess the wonder in front of him. If he wasn't smitten before, he was smitten now. The question today was how to proceed.
"Emily?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask you another question? I promise it won't be as bad."
"OK."
"Do you want to go on a date?"
Emily smiled nervously but did not respond.
"I'm sorry for asking," Justin said all too quickly. "That was pretty forward of me."
"No," Emily said. "It wasn't forward at all. What do you have in mind?"
Justin paused.
"I was thinking of something simple, like a walk along the Midway," he said. "We could buy ice cream sundaes or something. I just want to spend more time with you."
"That sounds nice. I'd love to do that."
"How does Saturday sound? I could pick you up at noon."
"That would be perfect," Emily said. "I just have one request."
"What's that?"
Emily smiled sweetly.
"I'd like to bring Anna."
CHAPTER 29: JUSTIN
Saturday, May 12, 1900
Sitting at a picnic table on the edge of the busy esplanade, Justin glanced at the shorter of his two raven-haired dates and smiled. When the shorter of his dates smiled back, he laughed.
"What's so funny?" Emily asked.
"I can't get over the resemblance," Justin said. "She's a mini you."
"We are related, Mr. Townsend."
"I know. I know. But even for sisters, you look a lot alike."
"Mama says she broke the mold when she made me," Anna said.
Justin laughed again.
"I believe that."
Anna smiled and returned to her ice cream sundae.
"Thank you for letting Anna join us today," Emily said. "I'm sure you had a different kind of afternoon in mind."
"I did. But I'm happy to have her along," Justin said. He looked at Anna. "Did you hear that? I'm happy to have you along."
Anna blushed and nodded.
"I mean it though," Emily said. "Anna and I spend most Saturdays together. This is our day. She would never have forgiven me had I insisted on going alone."
Justin smiled.
"I thought you brought her along for protection."
"I did. You're a man who makes me smile and laugh, after all."
"You make her angry sometimes too," Anna said matter-of-factly.
Justin chuckled.
"Anna, mind your manners!" Emily said.
Emily, red-faced, turned to Justin.
"She's talking about the time you walked me home from the library."
"I know what she's talking about – and I don't mind hearing about it," Justin said. "You had a right to be angry with me – or at least disappointed."
Justin thought about that day as he looked at his ladies. How long ago it seemed. He had made a lot of progress with Emily since their "Don't touch me! Get away from me!" moment and wanted to preserve it. If slow and steady was the way to win Emily Beck's heart, he would set his cruise control to five miles per hour.
He gazed at the girls a little longer and then shifted his attention to other things. No matter where he looked, he saw something worth noting – from the concession stands and amusements to the trolleys and the elegantly dressed masses that moved slowly down the Midway.
"What do you call that funny-looking building over there?" Justin asked as he pointed toward the water.
Emily turned around.
"Do you mean the curio shop?"
"No. I mean the big building right there, the long wooden one sitting on the stilts."
Emily smiled.
"That's the Pagoda bathhouse."
"How come it has two circus tents in the middle?"
Emily laughed.
"I don't know. I guess its owners want it to look different than the others."
"You mean th
ere's more than one?" Justin asked.
"There are three – the Pagoda, O'Keefe's, and Murdoch's. You can see O'Keefe's to the east and Murdoch's to the west."
"Have you been to one?"
"We've been to all three, but we typically go to Murdoch's," Emily said. "My parents rent a space there. That's where we keep most of our bathing suits."
"So the bathhouses are basically a cluster of changing rooms."
"That's exactly what they are, though they have other amenities, such as observation decks, amusements, and restaurants. O'Keefe's has a really nice restaurant."
"How often do you go swimming?" Justin asked.
"We rarely go in the cooler months, but we go at least once a week in the summer. Anna and I usually wait until June to go in the water. You should join us if you're still around."
"I just may," Justin said.
"I think you should," Anna said. "'May' is a weasel word."
Justin laughed.
"OK then. I will. I will go swimming. Is 'will' a weasel word?"
Anna smiled and shook her head.
Justin looked at Anna like she was Shirley Temple. He couldn't believe so much cuteness could be packed into a four-foot-high frame. When he returned his eyes to Emily, he noticed that she seemed distracted by something or someone in the distance.
"What is it?" Justin asked.
"It's just an unwelcome distraction," Emily said. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"
"Of course."
Emily left the table and walked toward two men standing by the curio shop.
Justin recognized each of the men by face and thought he knew the name of one. He didn't know what the two had in common, other than an apparent interest in an irritated young woman.
"Is that Levi MacArthur?" Justin asked.
Anna nodded.
Justin watched intently as Emily walked up to the prosecutor and gave him an earful. The other man, the one Justin did not know, looked on with apparent detachment.
"Your sister doesn't like Mr. MacArthur, does she?"
"Nope," Anna said.
"Does she like me?" Justin asked.
Anna fidgeted in her seat.
"I think so. She says you're different."
September Sky (American Journey Book 1) Page 14