by Sara Orwig
But at the moment he couldn’t concentrate on his future. All he could think about was her breathtakingly beautiful body. He ached to possess her, praying there wouldn’t be any reason for her father to refuse to allow the wedding.
She reappeared. “I’ll be late getting home, and Mama will be furious.”
“You look beautiful and you don’t look as if you’ve been so much as kissed on the cheek.”
“Whereas we’ve actually done much more,” she said, assessing him, her eyes drifting down below his belt.
He crossed the room to her, reaching for her, but she stepped back. “Oh, no! I’m all neat and ready to appear for Mama’s inspection.”
He laughed. “We’re engaged, Louisa. Do you remember you promised to marry me?”
“I remember,” she said. She was charmed by him, and wondered if her father would be too. “My father may have something to say about it.”
“I’ll talk to him as soon as possible. You’ll be mine soon.”
Tingles raced through her as she remembered the past hour and listened to his words. He was exciting beyond measure. Her mother would be enraged, but she would consider her daughter’s wishes in the matter. Her father would be more likely to approve. She glanced at the house once again, thankful it was so elegant.
“Mama wants me to marry Reuben.”
“And your father?”
“I hope you can persuade him.”
“I will,” Dan said confidently, knowing he would do anything to marry her. He wasn’t going to let the second love in his life slip away.
“I must go home.”
He held her coat, turning her to face him. “We’ll have fun. I promise you.”
She laughed. “When Reuben learns about this, he may come to fight.”
“To hell with Reuben,” he whispered, kissing her. “I don’t want to stop touching you.”
She pushed away. “If you don’t, I’ll appear mussed.” Her mind raced over how to break the news to Reuben. She wanted to be the one to do it. Engaged. It was both frightening and exhilarating, and she couldn’t stop thinking of Dan Castle’s lovemaking.
“My father will want to meet your family. You have a brother, don’t you?”
“Yes, in Texas,” he said, wondering if he would ever be able to reveal his past to her, to introduce her to Hattie or Javier.
When he took her home, he stepped inside. Charles Shumacher appeared at the door of the parlor.
“You’re ten minutes late,” he said, gazing sternly at his pocket watch.
“Sorry, sir, we were stuck in a drift of snow as we left the dance. “Thank you, Miss Shumacher, for a lovely evening.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you, Mr. Castle.”
“Mr. Shumacher, may I have a word with you?”
“Of course. Step into the parlor.”
“Good night,” Dan said again to Louisa, his voice softening. He followed Shumacher into the parlor and waited while he closed the door to the hall.
“Sir, I’d like a word with you privately. If this is a poor time because of the lateness of the hour—”
“No, Mr. Castle. Go ahead. Why did you want to see me?”
“I like Denver and have a thriving business started.”
Charles Shumacher stopped stoking the fire and turned to study Dan. As he looked at Dan’s broad Shoulders, he wondered if the young man wanted to borrow money, to build a house for them, or to ask for his endorsement among his friends.
“I know you do. I’ve heard about your work,” he said, poking the coals, watching sparks dance up the chimney. He put away the poker and faced Dan.
“I expect to settle here, to be successful here. I think my prospects are good, because I think the town’s prospects are good.”
“True enough.”
“I’d like to ask for Louisa’s hand in marriage.”
Charles Shumacher’s jaw dropped, and Dan realized the man hadn’t expected such a request at all.
“I can provide for her well, and in the manner to which she is accustomed. Frankly, sir, I expect to have a successful building career.”
“You’ve surprised me, young man. You and Louisa barely know each other.”
“That’s true, but I know my feelings are strong for her.”
“I’ll have to think about your proposal, discuss it with Louisa and her mother. I’m a father who wants his daughter to be happy.”
“Yes, sir. I rather imagined you were.”
“We’ll talk it over among ourselves, and you and I’ll talk further on the matter. Mr. Castle, we know nothing of your family. As you know, Louisa has been squired by Reuben Knelville for some time now. The Knelvilles are family friends.”
“My parents are gone,” Dan said. He hated lying to everyone, and for an instant he was tempted to reveal the truth about his past to Charles Shumacher. But he had grown too wary of people to relent so easily. “I have a brother who is a lawyer in Texas. He’s been a United States marshal.”
“A lawyer. What’s his name?”
“Luke Danby. We’re half-brothers.”
“I see. It makes it more difficult when we don’t know your family. We’re protective of Louisa, but as I’m sure you realize, she is our only daughter and she is a beautiful young woman. I expect her to marry well.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you haven’t known her long. I would insist on a long engagement.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever you say,” Dan said, wanting to groan. He wanted Louisa now, but if he had to wait, so be it.
“Why don’t we discuss this in a week. Say, next Thursday afternoon at four?”
“Yes, sir. That would be fine,” Dan said, determined to be agreeable, no matter how difficult.
“I’ve heard rumors you and Reuben have fought. I don’t want a breath of scandal attached to Louisa.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And she must not be late arriving home again.”
“Yes, sir. I take full blame for that.”
“Yes. Well, until Thursday, Mr. Castle.”
“It’s Dan, sir,” he said, crossing the room and shaking hands with Shumacher. “I would take good care of her, sir. I adore her.”
“We’ll see. Good night, Mr. Castle.”
Dan left, aware that the Shumachers might be more of an obstacle than he had thought. He wanted to shout with joy, yet he was half-afraid to, until next Thursday, when he talked to Charles Shumacher.
He jumped up on the box and gave Grizzly a squeeze. “It is a beautiful night, Grizzly, old friend, and if anyone asks you, we got stuck in a drift at the dance and that’s why Miss Shumacher was a few minutes late arriving home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dan laughed. “Shall we go home? I’ll drop you off at the house.” For the first time he thought of Dulcie. He would have to tell her about Louisa Shumacher. He dreaded it, yet Dulcie had steadfastly refused every marriage proposal presented to her.
He paid Grizzly and strode toward the back door. Music wafted from the house, smoke spiraled from the chimney, and suddenly Dan thought he should tell Dulcie now. Music and laughter came from the two parlors, and the deep voices of the men mingled with the high laughter of the women. Dan saw Dulcie leaning against the piano. Her gaze met his, and she smiled, crossing the room to him.
He felt a pang. Dulcie was a friend above all else, but he couldn’t explain that to Louisa. Dulcie could no longer be part of his life, and he dreaded breaking the news to her.
“Hi, stranger.”
“Hi, Dulcie. I brought Grizzly home.”
“And did you and little Miss Shumacher have fun?”
To his surprise, he realized Dulcie was slightly tipsy. He had never seen her that way before. “Yes, we did,” he said evenly. “I’ll come back tomorrow, Dulcie.”
“Relax, Dan. Come down to the room and have a little brandy with me.”
“I’ll be back.”
She linked her arm in his. “Come on. You can stay with me a
few minutes.”
He shed his coat while she closed the door. He poured two brandies and handed her one.
“To old times, Dan.”
“To old times, Dulcie,” he said, gulping down the brandy, feeling the fiery liquid burn his throat.
She poured him another. “Tell me about the dance. Which ladies were there and what did they wear?”
He moved around the room, wishing that he hadn’t stepped foot inside her house. “Oh, hell, Dulcie, I don’t know what they wore.”
“You know what Louisa Shumacher wore.”
“Yes, I do know that,” he said. He remembered how her dress felt beneath his hands, the soft material and ribbons and buttons unfastened and pushed away. His desire was rekindled, and he sipped the brandy. “She wore some kind of soft blue material that had ribbons here,” he said, his voice getting husky when he thought about those ribbons.
Dulcie crossed the room to him and put her arms around him. “Dan,” she said, moving her hips against him.
“Dulcie, it’s late.”
“Love me, just this once. I’m older than Louisa Shumacher and her friends. I’m not the beauty I once was,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Dulcie, you’re one of the most beautiful women in Denver,” he said.
“Just kiss me,” she whispered, winding her arm around his neck. Her hand slid down over his hip and thigh. He bent his head, kissing her, feeling her softness press against him, and suddenly he yielded to the passion that had been so fully aroused only hours earlier.
He carried her to bed, stretching out beside her as her hands unfastened his pants and removed his paper collar. He pulled his shirt over his head.
Dulcie stood up, peeling away her few garments. “Is my body getting old, Dan?”
“That’s the most absurd question,” he said, pulling her down into his arms. As he kissed Dulcie, Louisa was forgotten.
When he woke in the morning, she was asleep beside him. He disentangled himself and slipped out of bed, washing and dressing quietly. As he gazed at Dulcie, he had no regrets about their night together. They would have to part soon now, but he wasn’t married yet, and they had wanted each other badly last night.
Dan felt kindly toward Dulcie, and was grateful that she hadn’t accepted his proposals. He peeled two one-hundred-dollar bills from his billfold and left them on her desk before picking up his boots and coat and slipping out.
Wednesday morning of the next week, as Dan rode around the corner toward the Potter house, he saw Edward Ringwood’s carriage once again parked in front. Dan urged his horse to a trot, swung his leg over, and dropped down to run up the front steps.
Dan burst into the house. “Mr. Ringwood! Oh, sorry, sir.”
Edward Ringwood smiled as he stood only yards away. “I thought I’d find you here. I’ve heard you’re rebuilding the O’Malley boardinghouse for them.”
“Yes, sir. I work on the boardinghouse in my spare time.”
Edward Ringwood laughed. “I wonder how much spare time you have. When do you expect to finish both places?”
“This house should be done in three more weeks if the weather holds. The work on the O’Malley boardinghouse is going slowly because I work odd hours on it, and most of the men who volunteered at first have quit helping now. I should finish it within a month.”
“I see. Well, when you have more free time again, I would like to see some plans for a house. I bought a lot on Grant Street.”
“Yes, sir!”
“If you’ll come to my office on Larimer sometime this week or next, whenever you can work it into your busy schedule, I’ll go over what I would like with you, give you some specific ideas.”
“Yes, sir. I can come anytime you like.”
Ringwood gave another frosty smile. “I thought you might work it into your schedule. How about four o’clock today?”
For one brief instant Dan had been afraid Ringwood would say four o’clock Thursday, and he would be faced with a terrible dilemma.
“Yes, sir! Today at four would be grand.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.”
Dazed, Dan watched Ringwood climb into his carriage and drive away.
Dan gave a whoop of joy. Suddenly he wanted to tell someone. He couldn’t call at this hour on Louisa. If he called on Dulcie, she would coax him into bed again, but he could safely go tell Mary O’Malley. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to. He might even get breakfast. He strode outside to mount his horse and head for the O’Malleys’. They were all at breakfast when he entered.
“Good morning,” Mary greeted him cheerfully.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Dan said, “but I thought I would stop for a few minutes before I start working.”
“You can have some breakfast,” Paddy said, pushing out a chair while Brian stood up and carried his plate to the sink. “I’m leaving for the stable. I’ll help you tonight, Dan.”
“Fine.”
“My boy,” Paddy said, leaning forward, “I am building something that will make your eyes dance. You must come out to the shed and see the windmill of the future. It will transform the desert into a land of abundance, with water pumped from the ground far faster than now.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll look after breakfast.”
“And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to work on it.”
“Yes, sir.”
They were left alone, and as Mary served him a plate of eggs, biscuits, and ham, he caught her wrist. “Have you eaten? If you haven’t, come join me. I want to tell you something.”
“Yes. Just a minute, Dan.”
When she had filled a plate, she sat across from him and leaned forward, her arms on the table. “Now, tell me. You look as if you found a rainbow.”
“Better than that. Edward Ringwood stopped by this morning and he wants me to draw up plans to build him a house.”
“Oh, Dan, how wonderful for you,” she said, looking at the sparkle in his eyes and wondering if she had ever seen anyone look quite as happy.
“Between that and the Corning plans, I see the promise of a real future. Mary, this will mean others will come to me. This is the job I need to get my real start here.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes,” she said, laughing at his excitement.
“I’ve asked Louisa Shumacher to marry me.”
Mary stared at him, suddenly losing all her merriment. Louisa was a cold, haughty woman. She was beautiful, but not the woman Mary would have picked for a man like Dan.
He stared at her. “Can’t you say something? Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Has she said yes?”
“She said yes. Her father hasn’t. I talk to him tomorrow. This is the most important week of my life.” He couldn’t sit still, but pushed away his chair and went around to swing her up. “I could shout with joy, yet my proposal is still a secret, and I don’t actually have the contracts for the Ringwood and Corning houses yet.”
She laughed with him, happy for him as she clutched his strong, bony wrists. “Dan, put me down.”
He laughed and spun her around, making her cry out and giggle. He hadn’t ever heard her really laugh aloud the way she did now. He spun her again, watching her laugh, looking at her dimples as she clutched his wrists until he finally set her on her feet.
“You’re pretty when you laugh,”
Thank you,” she said, thinking he was gorgeous when he laughed. Louisa Shumacher was a very lucky woman.
“Our breakfasts are getting cold.”
“I don’t care. I’m too excited to sit down and eat. I wish—” He broke off abruptly, remembering in time that if he mentioned Silas’ name, it would make her sad. “I wish this afternoon were already here so I could call on Mr. Ringwood.”
“You’ll get the job. You do beautiful work.”
He sobered and sat down to eat. “I haven’t done anything fancy here for you.”
“
It’s wonderful just to have walls and floors and ceilings.”
He smiled at her. “I had to tell someone or I’d pop.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, looking away. She was pleased that he had chosen her to share it with, yet wished that it weren’t Louisa Shumacher who had won his affections.
“Something’s bothering you,” he said, tilting up her chin.
Startled, she gazed into questioning eyes. “I miss Silas,” she said in a guilty lie. She hoped he couldn’t guess that she didn’t like Louisa Shumacher, and was unable to fathom how he had discerned she was unhappy over his news. “And you’re a good substitute,” she said frankly. “I suppose I’ll miss you.”
He laughed aloud. He understood why she would enjoy some companionship even if it was only his, and thought about how much he enjoyed hers in return. “Silas will come home, and you won’t care. I wish Silas were here now, to tell him too. We could all go out together and celebrate.”
“No, Dan. Some ladies in this town don’t associate with either Silas or me,” she said matter-of-factly as she took a scoop of berry jam from a bowl.
“Louisa will love you both,” he said blithely, and Mary felt a twinge of anger. Louisa wouldn’t, but Mary wouldn’t tell Dan. He would learn soon enough, and it really wouldn’t matter that much anyway. Silas might not return for years, and Mary knew she was not a part of Dan’s life.
“I want to build houses here that will last forever, so that years from now people will still love them. And I want a family like the one I had,” he said with a note of yearning. “What do you want most, Mary? I know Silas comes first.”
She shrugged and looked out the window at a spruce in the front yard. “I think the only thing I’ve ever really longed for is, if I marry, I’d like a little girl,” she said quietly. She turned around, and the wistful expression on her face changed as her dimples appeared. “I’ve had to live all my life with boys and men. Another female would be nice.”
He smiled at her and touched her cheek. There was something about her that reached out to people, to annoy or please, but there was always a strong reaction to her. “I hope you have girls,” he said, picking up his glass of milk. “Here’s to us, Mary. May you have girls and may I have my family and my houses!”