Mason paused and stared out the window, racking his brain for an elusive memory. What was the name of that boardinghouse Jeremy had mentioned?
Eugenia hummed as she descended the stairs, a smile wreathing her face at the memory of where last night’s humming had led. That had been wonderful, so very wonderful, but… The smile faded slightly at the prospect of the next half hour. Though she was eager to see Mason again, it might be awkward, especially with Papa and Aunt Louisa watching them. They’d have to be careful not to catch each other’s eye, just the way they had last night when everyone drank cups of hot milk. But once they left for the depot, she and Mason could talk about those unforgettable moments.
As she entered the breakfast room, Eugenia’s eyes widened at the sight of only three place settings.
“Has Papa already left?” she asked Norton. The butler was arranging chafing dishes and platters on the buffet.
He shook his head. “No, Miss Eugenia. Mr. Farling said he wouldn’t be here for breakfast.”
“Oh, I see.” But she did not. Though Mason had missed several breakfasts, this was the first time he’d done so without her.
Neither Papa nor Aunt Louisa seemed concerned by Mason’s absence. Aunt Louisa chattered about how well the party went, while Papa beamed with pride. It was only Eugenia who had difficulty forcing herself to eat, when all the while she wondered where Mason had gone.
At last the meal ended. As the three of them left the breakfast room, the front door opened, and Mason entered the house.
“Could I have a few minutes of your time, Erastus?” he asked. There were circles under his eyes, as if he’d slept little, and his face was paler than normal. Either of those would have been cause for concern, but what worried Eugenia the most was the studious way Mason refused to look at her.
Papa nodded. “Of course.”
As he followed her father to his office, Mason’s glance landed on Eugenia then skittered away, as if he’d touched a hot stove. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. But what?
Feigning interest in a book, Eugenia stationed herself in the library where she could watch the entrance to Papa’s office. Sooner or later, Mason would leave, and when he did, she would be waiting.
The door opened, and Eugenia rose, meeting Mason in the middle of the hallway. “Is something wrong?” she asked. It wasn’t the most graceful of introductions, but she was too worried to couch her words carefully.
He shook his head. “Not anymore.” Once again, Mason failed to meet her gaze. He studied the toes of his shoes as if they contained the answers to the mysteries of the universe. “I explained to your father that I’m moving to Mrs. Tyson’s boardinghouse.”
Eugenia felt the blood drain from her face, and she reached out, placing her hand against the wall to steady her suddenly wobbly legs. “You’re leaving?” The words came out as little more than a croak.
“Not Cheyenne,” he said, his voice as cool as if they were casual acquaintances, not partners, not a man and a woman who’d shared the most wonderful kiss in the history of the world. “I’m certainly not abandoning the project,” he added. “As I told your father, living at the boardinghouse will give me the opportunity to spend more time with the men who are actually building the depot. You know I think their perspective will be an important part of the book.”
“But why?” It made no sense. Mason already spent a fair amount of time talking to the men as they worked. Surely that was enough.
He shrugged his shoulders as if his coat had suddenly become uncomfortable. For a second, Eugenia thought he might refuse to answer, but then Mason raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes so filled with pain that she wanted to cry.
“You know why,” he said.
There was only one reason she could imagine, and that wrenched her heart more than she’d thought possible. Despite everything that had happened, Mason did not love her.
Chapter Eight
I missed you.” Though Chauncey smiled as he entered the parlor and took the seat she’d indicated, Eugenia felt a shiver snake its way down her spine. Perhaps she was being fanciful, but the expression in his eyes reminded her of a man she’d seen in an art museum back east. The man had been staring at a Rembrandt painting, and she’d heard him mutter, “I’d do anything to own that.”
She forced herself to smile as Chauncey continued speaking. “New York, Philadelphia, and Boston are great cities, but they seemed empty without you. I missed you,” he said again.
Eugenia wouldn’t lie and say that she’d missed him, but she knew she needed to say something. After all, this was the man Papa wanted her to marry. “I’m glad your trip was a success. Papa told me how pleased he is with all you accomplished.” While he’d been gone, Chauncey had sent lengthy weekly letters detailing the progress of his negotiations.
“It’s an honor to help him. I feel like we’re already partners, even though it won’t be official until you and I marry.”
Partners. This was the first Eugenia had heard of that. “Papa didn’t mention making you a partner.”
“There’s no reason he should have. It’s between us men.”
Eugenia tried her best not to bristle. Mason would never have said anything like that. Mason respected women. He was kind. He was fair. He was as close to perfect as Eugenia could imagine. If only he loved her. But he did not.
Mason came to the house each morning after breakfast and escorted her to the depot. Once they checked the progress and she documented the day in at least one photograph, he escorted her back home, all the while being unfailingly polite. If she’d only just met him, Eugenia knew she’d be content with the way he treated her, but they weren’t new acquaintances, and she could not forget the kiss they’d shared. The wonderful, unforgettable kiss that Mason obviously regretted.
There was nothing to be gained by pining over him. Whatever had been between them was gone. Eugenia fixed a smile on her face as she turned to Chauncey. “Will you stay for supper? I’m sure Papa will want to hear all about your trip.”
Chauncey nodded. “I’d never turn down the opportunity to be with you and your father.”
Rising, Eugenia said, “I’ll let Cook know there’ll be four for supper.”
“Four?” Chauncey’s eyebrows rose, and Eugenia thought she saw a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Does that mean that journalist left town?”
“No, but he doesn’t live here anymore.”
This time there was no doubt about it. Chauncey was pleased. “Good. Very good.”
But it wasn’t.
“It’s been more difficult than I thought possible,” Mason told the man who walked slowly at his side. When he’d entered the bakery, Jeremy had taken one look at him and suggested they go for a walk. It was only when they were outside and would not be overheard that Jeremy had asked him what was wrong.
“I do everything I can to act as if we’re simply colleagues, but what I want is to sweep her into my arms and beg her to marry me.”
“Why don’t you do that?” Jeremy asked. “You told me once you believed Eugenia returned your feelings.”
It was true that in the weeks since he’d moved out of the Bell mansion Mason had caught Eugenia regarding him with something that looked like longing. The emotion was easy to recognize, for he saw it each morning when he gazed at his reflection while shaving.
“I have nothing to offer her, at least not compared to Chauncey Keaton. He can give her the life she deserves. And, even if he couldn’t, he’s the man her father wants her to marry. I’m just the man hired to write a commemorative book.”
Jeremy paused at the street corner to let a carriage pass them. “Will Chauncey make her happy?”
It was a question Mason had asked himself countless times. “I hope so. When I see them together, she’s always smiling.” Admittedly, it wasn’t the way she’d smiled at Mason while they’d danced, but it was a smile.
Jeremy did not appear impressed. “I imagine you’re smiling then, too.”
“Of course. That’s what one does at events like those.”
“But you’re not smiling on the inside.”
“That’s true.”
“Maybe Eugenia is doing the same thing you are and is putting on a brave front.” Jeremy was silent for a moment, perhaps wanting Mason to consider what he’d said. “Don’t you think you owe it to yourself and Eugenia to find out how she really feels?” His lips thinned. “I wasn’t sure Esther loved me, but I also knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life without telling her of my love.”
And look where that had brought him. Esther and Jeremy were one of the happiest couples Mason had ever seen. “How did you get to be so wise?” he asked his friend.
“Me, wise?” Jeremy laughed. “If I have any wisdom, it’s come with age and many hours of prayer. So, are you going to talk to Eugenia?”
“I want to, but first I need to ask for her father’s permission. I don’t know whether he’ll agree. To be honest, Jeremy, I doubt he will, but you’re right. I have to try, and the timing has to be right.” Mason paused, reflecting on how important timing was. “Erastus is preoccupied with the cornerstone ceremony right now. Whenever I see him, it’s the only thing he talks about. My best chance of getting him to agree is to wait until the cornerstone is laid.”
Though Jeremy had started to nod, he stopped and raised his eyebrows again. “That’sa month from now. Are you sure you want to wait?”
“No, I don’t want to wait. Not a single minute. But I need to.”
It was an excuse, Eugenia admitted to herself as she left the house and headed south on Ferguson. Chances were that Mason didn’t need the page that had somehow slipped out of his notebook this morning, but returning it would give her an opportunity to see him again. That was why she was walking more quickly than usual, rather than strolling and admiring the stores she passed.
Her pace did not slow when she reached Madame Charlotte’s dress shop. Though Aunt Louisa had urged her to look at the modiste’s designs for wedding gowns, Eugenia had not. No matter how often Papa sang Chauncey’s praises, no matter how many gifts Chauncey brought her and how many compliments he lavished on her, Eugenia knew she wasn’t ready to marry him.
If she agreed, both Papa and Chauncey would be happy, but every time Eugenia thought of marrying Chauncey, she shivered. She couldn’t explain why she shrank from the very idea, why it filled her with foreboding. It was foolish, for surely there was no reason to fear Chauncey.
When she reached the corner of Fifteenth Street and turned west, Eugenia’s mood lightened. The boardinghouse where Mason lived was only a few yards away. Soon she’d see him, and even if it was only for a moment or two, those moments would brighten her afternoon.
What did not brighten her day was the neighborhood. Why had Mason moved here? Though the boardinghouse was only six blocks from her home, the area was so different that it could have been in another city. This was a less prosperous part of Cheyenne, the buildings poorly cared for, an area that lacked trees and plants but had saloons and a brothel on the next block. Papa called the neighborhood seedy. Eugenia called it sad.
Though the street was almost deserted, her eyes widened when she saw a well-dressed man talking to a woman whose clothing was little more than rags. The man had his back to her, but as Eugenia watched, he slapped the woman, the blow so fierce that she slumped to the ground. An instant later, he began to kick her.
“Stop that!” Eugenia cried, rushing toward the woman. She knew she couldn’t overpower the man, but somehow she had to stop him from inflicting more harm. Oh, how could he do something so heinous? What kind of a man would kick a poor woman?
“Stop that!” she shouted again. This time the man turned, and Eugenia’s shock turned to horror. “Chauncey?” Surely it couldn’t be, but it was. Though his face was distorted by fury and a scowl, this was indeed Chauncey.
The man Eugenia’s father wanted her to marry took a step toward her. “What are you doing here?” He tried to modulate it, but she heard the anger in his voice. The question was, was he angry that she was near Mason’s boardinghouse or that she’d seen him mistreating the woman?
“Why I’m here doesn’t matter. The question is, why were you attacking that poor woman?” Eugenia looked around, but the battered woman was nowhere to be seen. She must have taken advantage of Chauncey’s distraction and slipped into the alley.
Chauncey came closer, his expression once more serene. It was almost as if he’dslipped on a mask to cover his fury. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was merely protecting myself. That woman tried to rob me.”
Lies. All lies. Eugenia had seen him approach the woman, not the other way around. “You’re lying, Chauncey. I don’t know what you two said to each other, but there’s no way you can justify hurting her.”
As he took another step toward Eugenia, Chauncey’s expression changed, and this time she saw concern reflecting from his eyes. Concern but no remorse. Was this the reason she’d felt a frisson of fear every time she thought of marrying him? Perhaps she’d been led here to prevent her from making a huge mistake.
“I know what I saw,” she said firmly, “and what I saw tells me you’re not a man I want to marry.” No matter what Papa said, she would not agree to marry someone who treated the poor and unfortunate with such cruelty.
Though she sensed that he was trying to hide it, Eugenia saw alarm in Chauncey’s expression. “Don’t be hasty, Eugenia,” he said, his voice huskier than normal. “Won’t you give me a second chance?”
She shook her head as the memory of his kicking the poor woman filled her with horror. “I can’t forget what I saw.”
Chauncey came so close that she could smell the Macassar oil he used on his hair. “Can you forgive me?” Before Eugenia could respond, he continued. “Jesus told us to forgive seventy times seven.”
That was true, but it wasn’t that simple. “I’m not the one you should be asking for forgiveness. It’s the woman you hurt.”
Nodding as if he agreed, Chauncey said, “I’ll find her. I’ll make everything right with her. I’ll give her money for clothes, and I’ll get her a room in a boardinghouse so she has a place to eat and sleep. Please, Eugenia, give me a second chance. Don’t disappoint your father.”
Eugenia was silent for a moment, considering what the announcement that she would never marry Chauncey would mean to Papa. Though he tried to make light of it, she knew how concerned her father was that something might go wrong during the cornerstone ceremony. He spent hours each day trying to be certain every detail was covered. How could she add to his worries? And then there was Chauncey himself. Though Eugenia didn’t expect to change her mind about marrying him, everyone deserved the opportunity to change.
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she formulated her response. “All right, Chauncey. I won’t say anything to Papa until after the cornerstone is laid.”
Chapter Nine
Today was the day. Eugenia turned to view her gown in the cheval mirror. Though the crowd’s attention would be on other things today, she wanted everything to be perfect, including her gown. Today was July 19, the day the depot’s cornerstone would be laid, the day she could cease her charade with Chauncey.
She studied the gown, finding no flaw in Madame Charlotte’s creation. If only she could say the same about Chauncey. She’d tried to give him a second chance. She’d tried not to think about the poor woman on Fifteenth Street, but what Eugenia had seen that day had made her both cautious and observant.
In the weeks since then, she’d seen the disdain with which Chauncey regarded the construction workers at the depot. She’d noticed the way he picked up the china shepherdess that had been one of Mama’s prized possessions as if he were evaluating how much Papa had paid for it. She’d heard the condescension in his voice when he spoke of her photographs. All that had combined to confirm her decision. She could not marry Chauncey. Eugenia knew that as clearly as she knew that today was a beautiful
Monday in July, a day when sunshine had replaced the overnight rain.
She would tell Papa of her decision tonight before the celebratory dinner at the Cheyenne Club, and then she would muster every ounce of courage she possessed to ask Mason if he remembered the kiss they’d shared.
Today was the day. Mason swirled the brush in his shaving cup then stroked the foam onto his cheeks. Today was the day the Wyoming Lodge of Masons would preside over the ceremony. Eugenia would take photos as they anointed the stone with wine, oil, and corn. They’d all listen to a few speeches. Everyone would applaud. And when it was over, he would find a way to speak to Erastus in private.
Mason picked up his razor and wielded it with his usual precision. It took control not to nick his skin, but that was nothing compared to the self-control he’d had to exert to pretend that Eugenia was nothing more than a friend. The pretense had grown even more difficult when he’d taken Jeremy’s advice to study her expression when she was with Chauncey. That had left no doubt: Eugenia was not happy.
Mason could see the shadows behind her smile. What worried him even more was that he also glimpsed something darker, almost as if she feared Chauncey. While that seemed unlikely, Mason could not dismiss his concerns. He wanted to be the man who put the sparkle back in Eugenia’s eyes, the man who made her feel safe and cherished.
By nightfall he would know if he had the right to do that, but first they had a ceremony to attend.
“I can feel the excitement.” Eugenia smiled as she looked at the crowd that had already started to gather for the placement of the cornerstone. Though she and Mason had arrived a full hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, they were far from the first.
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am. I knew Papa was anxious to reach this stage, but I hadn’t realized how many other people in Cheyenne would feel the same way.”
The Rails to Love Romance Collection Page 11