The Rails to Love Romance Collection

by Brandmeyer, Diana Lesire; Cabot, Amanda; Carter, Lisa

  If Mason was amused by her formality, he gave no sign but withdrew a pencil from his breast pocket. “May I have the pleasure of the first waltz, Miss Bell?”

  It was indeed a pleasure, Eugenia reflected an hour later. She had waltzed dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times before, but never had it felt like this. The touch of Mason’s hand on hers, the warmth of his palm on her waist, the sparkle in his eyes as he gazed at her all combined to make it a dance she knew she would never forget.

  Though it was their first time waltzing together, she and Mason moved like longtime partners, their steps perfectly matched. With no need to concentrate on the patterns of the dance, Eugenia was free to revel in the pleasure of being in Mason’s arms. If only the dance could last forever.

  “Is something wrong, my friend?” Jeremy Snyder motioned Mason toward the table in the farthest corner of the bakery, the spot where they’d spent many an hour talking about everything from Jeremy’s paintings to Mason’s articles. Though Mason had never been here with Eugenia, when she’d said it was one of her favorite places, he’d decided to explore the Mitchell-Hathaway Bakery. As Eugenia had promised, Esther’s baked goods were exceptional, but what brought Mason back was his growing friendship with her husband. Jeremy had become the older brother Mason had always wanted.

  Right now that older brother substitute saw too much.

  “I didn’t know it was that obvious,” Mason said as he accepted the mug of coffee Esther placed in front of him.

  “Maybe not to others, but part of being an artist is assessing people’s moods. You look troubled.”

  That was one way of describing it. “I’m afraid I’ve done something foolish.”

  “You never struck me as a foolish man.” Jeremy shook his head slowly.

  If only that were true. “What else would you call having inappropriate feelings for a woman?”

  For a moment, Mason thought Jeremy was so shocked that he could not respond, but it appeared he was merely collecting his thoughts. “Do you love this woman?”

  That was the question. “I’m not sure. I think of her all the time, and I’d do anything in my power to make her happy.”

  Jeremy nodded slowly. “That sounds like love to me. So, what’s the problem?”

  “Her father would never approve. He hired me to do a job, not court his daughter.”

  “So, we’re speaking of Miss Bell.”

  Mason nodded, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of the woman who’d captured his imagination the first time he’d seen her. “She’s the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met, but I have nothing to offer her. Besides, Chauncey Keaton claims they’re practically betrothed. How can I compete with a man like that? He’s rich and well connected.”

  “And you’re an honest, hardworking man who loves her. Don’t sell yourself short, Mason, and don’t give up hope. If Miss Bell is the right woman for you, God will show you the way to win her.”

  Mason must have looked skeptical, for Jeremy continued. “Believe me, Mason. I know what I’m talking about. I was in your shoes once and look at me now—married to the perfect woman, thanks to God’s goodness. It can happen to you, too.”

  “I hope so.”

  Chapter Six

  This calls for a celebration.” Mason gestured toward the depot site, where a tall wooden plank fence surrounded the excavation that had finally resumed. It was early May, and as Papa had predicted, the contractor the UP had chosen had not hired any of the men who’d participated in the strike in March but instead had brought his own crew. Eugenia had taken a number of pictures of the work, while Mason had scribbled in his ever-present notebook. Now that they were finished, he wore a grin as he said, “Can I interest you in one of Esther Snyder’s pastries?”

  “Oh, yes.” Eugenia saw no reason to hide her enthusiasm. “Others may disagree, but I’m convinced she bakes the best cakes and cookies in Cheyenne.”

  Of course, even if Esther’s creations tasted like sawdust, Eugenia would have accepted Mason’s invitation simply to have a reason to spend more time with him. Memories of the waltz they’d shared were never far from her thoughts, and though he hadn’t referred to it, Eugenia knew she wasn’t imagining the new warmth she’d seen in Mason’s eyes. The night they’d danced together had been a turning point, changing what had been a friendly partnership into something more, something Eugenia was almost afraid to name.

  She placed her hand on the crook of his arm and enjoyed their leisurely stroll north on Central Avenue. When they reached the bakery, she was surprised to discover that for once it was devoid of customers, although Jeremy stood behind his easel in the far corner.

  As the doorbell tinkled, Esther Snyder emerged from the back room, her face wreathed in a smile. “Look, Jeremy. Two of our favorite people are here.”

  Eugenia blinked in surprise at the realization that Mason had been here often enough to have gained “favorite people” status. “I was going to introduce Mason to you,” she told Esther, “but obviously there’s no need.”

  “Indeed not. Mason is one of our best customers, although I suspect the real attraction is not my baked goods but my husband.”

  As Jeremy wiped his hands on a rag and approached them, Mason gestured toward a table for four. “Would you two join us for some cake and conversation?” Though he hadn’t said anything, he’d obviously noticed that Esther was with child and might want to sit down.

  Jeremy nodded. “If you’re sure we won’t be interrupting.” His eyes lit on the camera Eugenia was carrying. “I’d like to learn more about that apparatus of yours. The last one I saw was a daguerreotype.”

  When they were all seated with an assortment of cakes on a platter in the center of the table and cups of steaming coffee and tea before them, Eugenia addressed Jeremy. “Photography has changed a great deal since daguerreotypes. We no longer usesilver-plated copper plates. Now it’s Mr. Eastman’s American film.” When Jeremy nodded, encouraging her to continue, she explained. “That’s paper coated with two types of gelatin. It’s lighter than the metal plates, and we can make exposures in far less time than before.”

  Mason lifted the camera from the floor where Eugenia had placed it. “Show him how the back rotates.”

  When Eugenia had finished the demonstration, pointing out how simple it was to switch between portraits and landscapes, Jeremy was silent for a moment. “I guess I’d better worry,” he said. “These newfangled inventions will put me out of business. People won’t want to wait the days it takes for me to paint their portrait when you can give them one in hours.”

  “Speed isn’t everything,” Eugenia said, sensing the depth of Jeremy’s concern. Painting portraits and landscapes was his livelihood. It couldn’t be easy, fearing he might lose the ability to provide for his family, especially once the baby arrived.

  Mason swallowed a bite of cake then laid his fork on his plate. “The way I see it, you’re both artists. Eugenia captures a person’s image at one moment in time. Her photographs are very realistic and show exactly what that person looked like and what he was doing then. When Jeremy paints a portrait, he seeks to depict the depths of his subject’s personality. Neither one is better than the other. There’s a need for both.”

  What a sensitive man! Eugenia’s heart soared at the way Mason had defused a potentially painful situation, and she couldn’t help contrasting that with the cruel comments Chauncey had made when he’d brought her here. Eugenia loved her father. She wanted to honor him, but surely there was a way to convince him that Chauncey was not the right man for her.

  “Eugenia!” Papa looked up from the ledger he’d been consulting. “I thought you and Louisa were at the dressmaker’s this morning. You know I want you to have a new gown for our party. Nothing but the finest will do for my daughter.”

  But the finest was not Chauncey Keaton. Eugenia swallowed, trying to tamp down her nervousness. Though Papa rarely denied her anything, this was different. “Aunt Louisa is having her fitting now. I’ll join
her in a few minutes, but first I wanted to talk to you.”

  Papa looked concerned. “Is there a problem with the party? I thought everything was settled.”

  “There’s no problem with the party.” Eugenia knew how important the gala was to her father. He’d invited everyone in Cheyenne who supported the UP, and the fact that several railroad officials were coming from Omaha would make it the largest event prior to the cornerstone ceremony. “The invitations have gone out, and the food is all ordered,” she said, reassuring him.

  “Good, good.” The furrows between Papa’s eyes disappeared for an instant then reappeared. “What’s wrong? Do you need a new camera?”

  “No, Papa. The camera is fine. I wanted to talk to you about Chauncey.”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed. “What about Chauncey? He’s a good man.”

  Remembering the way Chauncey had treated Jeremy, Eugenia could not agree withher father. “There’s no easy way to say this. I don’t want to marry him.”

  “Nonsense!” Papa sputtered. “He’ll be a good husband. He’s a good cattleman, and I know he’ll take good care of both you and the ranch.”

  The fact that Papa had repeated the word good so many times told Eugenia how upset he was, for it wasn’t like him to repeat himself. Though she didn’t want to distress her father, she couldn’t pretend.

  “I don’t love him.” There. She’d said it.

  “What do you know of love?”

  “I know what Mama told me. I know how she felt about you, and I don’t have those feelings for Chauncey.”

  Papa shook his head, his expression reminding her of the way he’d looked when she’d been a small child and had somehow disappointed him. “Feelings grow. You need to trust me, Eugenia. I only want the best for you, and that’s Chauncey.”

  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

  The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity, getting everything ready for the party, and throughout that time Eugenia refused to think about Chauncey. He was still back East and would be there for at least another week. In the meantime, she savored every minute she spent with Mason. Though preparations for tonight’s party kept her busy, she and Mason visited the depot site each day, looking for anything new to document.

  The plank fence encircling the construction site was now covered with posters for local businesses and traveling shows. When she and Mason had visited the bakery for some of Esther’s gingerbread, Eugenia had joked with both her and Jeremy, suggesting they advertise there. They’d demurred, saying they had no need to attract new customers, especially since Esther was providing the desserts for tonight’s gala.

  Eugenia moved from the kitchen to the dining room to the parlor, mentally checking items off her list. Everything was ready. All that remained was Eugenia herself. She climbed the stairs and entered her room. The seafoam-green silk gown Madame Charlotte had designed for her was the most beautiful one Eugenia had ever worn. Intricately draped and trimmed with Venetian lace, it was a true masterpiece. As Eugenia slid it over her head and admired the effect in her cheval mirror, she smiled, wondering how Mason would react when he saw it.

  His reaction was everything she’d hoped for and more. As Eugenia descended the staircase, Mason stared at her for a long moment then chuckled.

  “This is the first time I’ve been speechless in…” He paused, considering. “The truth is, I can’t ever remember being at a loss for words. You literally took my breath away.”

  Though Papa and Aunt Louisa were standing at Mason’s side, Eugenia had eyes only for him. “That’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever paid me. Thank you, Mason. May I say you look particularly dashing tonight?”

  “You’ve seen these clothes before.”

  “Maybe so, but your smile is brighter than normal.” And, oh, how that smile made her heart race.

  “If so, it’s your fault.”

  Papa cleared his throat, bringing Eugenia back to reality. “Are you ready? The first of our guests are arriving.”

  Dutifully, Eugenia stood in the receiving line between Papa and Aunt Louisa, then moved into the parlor to circulate among the guests while they waited for dinner to be served. Everyone seemed to enjoy the hors d’oeuvre, and when they sat down for dinner, she heard nothing but praise. By any measure, the party was a success. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if Eugenia could have spent the evening with Mason.

  As it was, she’d spoken to him only in passing, but she’d been aware of him no matter where she went or what she did. She saw the way he brought a flush to the older women’s cheeks and knew he was being as charming to them as he was to everyone. There was no flattery in Mason, just honest compliments.

  As the hours passed, Eugenia smiled so much that her face hurt. Still, she could not regret a single minute, for the evening was everything Papa had wished for.

  “Great job, Eugenia,” Papa said when the last of the guests had departed, leaving Eugenia alone with her father, her aunt, and Mason. “I could not have asked for anything better.”

  “Thank you.” Eugenia led the way into the small sitting room, noticing that her father appeared tired. “Would you like some warm milk?” When she’d been a child, it had been Papa who’d encouraged her to drink it before bedtime, saying it would help her sleep. It was only later that she’d learned that he’d never outgrown his fondness for the children’s beverage.

  “That sounds good.” He turned to his sister. “What about you, Louisa?”

  Aunt Louisa nodded. “With a dash of nutmeg, if you please.”

  “I’ll get it.” Eugenia rose. Though she could have summoned a servant, they’d all worked so hard that she didn’t want to disturb any of them.

  “Let me help.” Mason stood at Eugenia’s side and slid the pocket door open so she could precede him.

  When they reached the kitchen, Eugenia pulled a pan from the cupboard and filled it with milk.

  “I want to echo your father,” Mason said as he leaned against the doorjamb. “You were the perfect hostess. Thanks to you, everyone had a wonderful time.”

  “What about you? Did you enjoy the evening?” Though this had been part of his job, Eugenia hoped Mason had found some pleasure tonight.

  “I did. Only one thing would have made it better.”

  Though she’d been about to light the stove, Eugenia turned to look at Mason. There had been an unexpected note in his voice, one that made her wonder what his one thing was. For her, it would have been to have spent more time with him.

  “What’s that one thing?” she asked.

  “I wish we could have danced.”

  Eugenia inhaled swiftly as memories of the minutes they’d spent in each other’s arms rushed back, overwhelming her with their sweetness. It would be wonderful, so very wonderful, if they could repeat that. She looked at the open space in the middle of the kitchen. “There’s no music, but if one of us hums, we could dance right here.” Without waiting for his response, she began to hum a waltz.

  Mason smiled. “You really are perfect.” He opened his arms and drew her into them. Within seconds, they were dancing in the kitchen, their feet moving as smoothly as if they were in a ballroom with an orchestra providing music.

  Afterward, Eugenia could not have said how long they danced. All she knew was that as they twirled and dipped, Mason’s gaze never left hers. And then he stopped, his eyes darkening with emotion as ever so slowly he lowered his lips to hers.

  Chapter Seven

  It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever experienced. Eugenia spun in a tight circle, her arms outstretched. Now that she was in the privacy of her room, she could savor the memories she’d made this evening when she’d been in Mason’s arms. His lips had been soft and firm, sweet and spicy all at the same time.

  She smiled as she lowered her arms and walked slowly around the room, trying to regain her bearings. Though she’d dreamt about kisses, she had never realized one would be like that. The pressure of Mason’s lips
on hers had sent waves of delight through her body, and when he’d wrapped his arms around her, she had wished the moment would never end. But it had.

  When they were both breathless, Mason had released her and pointed toward the stove. Somehow Eugenia had warmed the milk. Somehow she had carried on a conversation with Papa and Aunt Louisa. Somehow she had managed to control the silly grin that threatened to pop out every time she thought of Mason and that kiss. But now that she was alone, she no longer had to pretend. Mason’s kiss had been the most wonderful moment of her life.

  It was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Mason paced the floor of the spacious bedchamber Erastus Bell had given him. It was dumb, dumb, dumb, and yet he couldn’t regret it. The moments he’d held Eugenia in his arms had been more wonderful than he’d dreamt possible. When she was close to him, he’d felt as if they were two parts of a whole, that she was the half of him that had been missing. And her kiss… Was there anything on earth so sweet?

  Mason frowned as he continued to pace, striding from the window to the door and back again. Though he was a man who made his living with words, he could not find any that did justice to the way he’d felt when he’d kissed Eugenia. That kiss had been indelibly etched on his memory. It had been incredible, unforgettable, and oh so wrong.

  Eugenia’s father trusted him. He’d hired Mason to do a job, not fall in love with his daughter. Erastus had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Eugenia to marry Chauncey Keaton, and while Chauncey would not have been Mason’s choice for her, he must respect his employer’s wishes.

  He couldn’t undo what he’d already done, but he could—and he would—ensure it wasn’t repeated. The Bible warned about avoiding temptation, and Mason would. He’d continue to work with Eugenia, because that was part of the agreement he’d made with Erastus, but he could not continue to live here where he’d be tempted to take her into his arms again. And again. And again.