All in Good Time (The Gilded Legacy)

by Maureen Lang

  Nadette looked anything but happy. “How could ya leave ’em alone? Don’t ya know they’re scared? And ya left ’em with that Remee!”

  “Remee can be trusted, and no one knows about—” Dessa stopped herself. Belva knew.

  “Ya think nobody knows? Talk in Chinatown is gettin’ worse. Them on this side a Market Street that guess I had somethin’ to do with it ain’t gonna give us away—not to Chinamen, anyway. Don’t think that’ll last forever, though. All it’ll take is for somebody who knows to get greedy. Somebody who’ll tell on us just because they want a free smoke or a few drinks from a Chinaman’s whiskey. Even that old sot you got livin’ in the carriage house can be bought.”

  “Mr. Dunne doesn’t know about the girls, and he hasn’t even been here since they arrived.”

  “He’s down there in the yard; I saw him myself comin’ out of your kitchen. Looked like he’s been dead drunk for a while, but was hungry enough to swipe some a that bread and stuff.”

  Dessa looked quickly at Liling and Mei Mei. “Did he see the girls?”

  Nadette shook her head. “But don’t think that Remee won’t tell him, if it suits her purpose. Or that he won’t see ’em himself before long. Ya think they’re going to stay in this room forever?”

  “We’ll figure out what to do—I’m working on that. But don’t worry about Remee. She doesn’t want trouble here any more than I do. It’s her home now too.”

  Nadette shrugged. “All I’m sayin’ is you got to be careful.”

  “I already know that, Nadette,” Dessa said tersely. How was she going to tell the girl that she wouldn’t be home at all this evening? Yet having Nadette stay to take her place guarding the girls hardly seemed an answer, particularly if she was linked to their disappearance. “I think you’d better go. You can keep your ears open and do more to help if you see what’s going on, instead of staying here.”

  Nadette plopped down on the empty bed and burst into tears. “I got noplace to go!”

  Dessa stepped closer. “What do you mean? What about where you’ve been living, in the back of the Chinese laundry?”

  Nadette picked up the bottom of her skirt to wipe her face. “They suspect I had somethin’ to do with the trouble. They kicked me out.”

  Dessa rubbed her own face with her palms. She knew it was dangerous to keep Nadette here, but what alternative did she have?

  Oh, Lord, keep us safe. Hold all of us secure in the palm of Your hand!

  34

  ALTHOUGH MR. DUNNE had shown up at the kitchen door to borrow the tin tub and buckets for a bath out in the carriage house, and though he’d combed his hair and shaved his face, he somehow managed to retain the stench of alcohol when he arrived at the kitchen table for the midday meal.

  “We missed you at dinner yesterday, Mr. Dunne,” said Dessa as she and Jane set out the food. “We thought you’d been busy with a new job.”

  “The job wasn’t offered after all, miss.” He looked straight ahead, tucking his napkin in the collar of his shirt in anticipation of the meal. He hadn’t looked anyone in the eye since his reappearance.

  That was it? No explanation?

  Dessa knew Liling and Mei Mei would be down shortly, and if she planned to trust Mr. Dunne, she would have to do so now. That or have the girls restricted to their room all the time—something Dessa definitely did not want to do. It was bad enough they had to stay inside under a hot roof when the weather outside was so lovely.

  “There is something we must discuss, Mr. Dunne.”

  Though he still didn’t look her way, he raised his clean-shaven chin and stiffened his back. “If you’re set upon giving me a tongue-lashing, miss, I know I’ve earned it. I know why they gave the job to somebody else once they saw me face. Put silk on a goat, and you still have a goat. And ’tis a goat I am.”

  “I’m sorry the job didn’t work out, Mr. Dunne. But I was not about to scold you—though I can tell you’ve been drinking, and for your own good and health you ought to stop. I hardly imagine I’m telling you anything you don’t already know.”

  “True enough.”

  “There is something else I want to discuss, and what I have to tell you is to be held in strict confidence. I must ask your help should we need it.”

  He lifted a brow, looking at her at last. “My help?”

  “Yes.” Dessa turned to Jane. “Go and get the girls, Jane. Tell them Mr. Dunne will be joining us for the meal.”

  She was gone in an instant, and Dessa spoke again. “I’ve taken into my care two sisters who will need special protection and complete secrecy while they’re here.”

  “You can count on me, Miss Caldwell. I’m ever at your service.”

  “I hope that’s true.”

  “So they’ve a nasty mac, have they? You’re not to worry, miss. I wasn’t a bouncer for nothin’. I aim to prove now, if you’ll give me the chance, that I could easily have fulfilled the job I was just refused if they’d trusted me.”

  That he’d handled his rejection by drinking left considerable doubt in Dessa’s mind. “I’m hoping to avoid any trouble. I just wanted to let you know that trouble may come anyway.”

  A moment later the kitchen door swung open. Mr. Dunne looked easily past Remee, and then Nadette and Jane, but when his gaze fell upon the Chinese sisters, the red rims of his eyes widened.

  “Now, miss! I can see why you’re in need of protection. Are you sure this is wise, when half of Denver don’t tolerate the Oriental foreigners?”

  “They’re here, Mr. Dunne,” Dessa said firmly. “They’re no more foreign than any other immigrant—yourself included, I might add. I expect you to keep secret that we’ve taken them in.”

  Mr. Dunne scratched the top of his head, his brow furrowed. “I’m afraid nothin’s a secret if ’tis known by three. And we’re even more than that, aren’t we now?”

  Dessa had barely finished the alterations on the gown that Mariadela had lent her before it was time to dress for Mr. Hawkins to take her to his party. Remee, perhaps tired of all the tension of the past few days, volunteered to act as Dessa’s lady’s maid. She curled her hair, showing Jane how to do it too. Then she adjusted the bodice on Dessa’s dress, making sure the black stripes on the cream silk sat just right along the curves provided by the corset, bustle, and petticoat foundation. She even lent Dessa a pair of black shoes and a handkerchief that matched the cream silk, making the ensemble shine. It may not compare to the extravagant evening gowns rich investors’ wives would wear, but the style suited Dessa to perfection—and was by far the most expensive attire she’d ever worn.

  It hadn’t crossed Dessa’s mind to hope she might someday don such rich apparel. True, the corset pinched to make the gown fit snugly, and the bustle was stiffer than she was accustomed to; all the layers beneath her gown felt heavier than anything she normally wore, and despite the delicate lace, the sleeves limited her movement. Heaven help someone who had to be useful in such trappings!

  But looking at herself in the single mirror Pierson House offered, which hung outside the door to the water closet upstairs, she had to admit she looked like a lady of worldly means, a far cry from the servant she thought herself to be, even if lately that service had been to the Most High God instead of to those in mortal society. With the black stripes of the dress’s design filled out by the curves of Dessa’s figure, she looked like art set in motion.

  Even Nadette, who’d done nothing but frown once learning Dessa would be out for the evening, lifted a brow in appreciation. And Liling and Mei Mei both exclaimed their pleasure over her appearance, speaking in fast Chinese and offering the first chuckle since they’d arrived.

  Liling giggled. “You have big eyes and very white skin. True signs of beauty here or in China.”

  “Thank you, Liling . . . but why is that funny?”

  “I remind Mei Mei about a story from our homeland from long ago. Of beautiful woman they say make fish stop swimming if she walk by water, or birds fall from sky because
they catch glimpse of such woman—moon that pales and flowers too shy to bloom because their beauty is outshone. And we laugh because we like fish and birds and moon and flowers and are glad such things don’t happen here.”

  Dessa looked from one sister to the other. “God makes everything beautiful, here and in China. But even though He creates beautiful things, outer beauty isn’t what He cares about most. God sees beauty inside each one of us.”

  Mei Mei and her sister chatted again for a moment, and then Liling translated.

  “I teach my sister beauty is not a blessing; it is curse. Women suffer for it, if they have it. Or if they do not, they suffer then, too.” Liling looked away, all trace of happiness gone. “Only virtue is beautiful.”

  Dessa moved closer, forgetting the volume of her dress and kneeling before both girls. “No wonder you were so eager to see your sister spared. But listen to me, Liling. God can restore virtue if we ask Him, because of His great love for us. Because of Jesus.”

  Never before had Dessa been more earnest. She believed her words. She did. She must. They weren’t just for others; they were for her, too.

  Liling’s gaze took on a curious light, but she said nothing.

  Dessa pulled herself back to her feet. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, and God will not forget us. I promise you that. I’m going to speak to someone tonight about helping us.”

  Nadette, standing nearby, folded her arms and eyed Dessa suspiciously. “Who?”

  “Someone I trust.”

  Nadette didn’t look convinced. “Let’s hope that help ain’t just more trouble—or if it’s real help, that it don’t get here too late.”

  The words mirrored Dessa’s thoughts exactly.

  Henry tapped on the door to Pierson House, and a moment later Jane greeted him with a wide and instant smile.

  “Oh, Mr. Hawkins! How handsome you look in that fancy suit!”

  Henry didn’t want to enjoy the compliment. That would be far too childish. But he couldn’t deny that he did, after all. He stepped inside, looking around for Dessa.

  “She’ll be right down. And won’t you be pleased to see her! Just wait!”

  Henry had already wondered what Dessa might wear tonight, much to his own embarrassment. Knowing her and this mission of hers, he guessed that she didn’t put much emphasis on clothing—not the way other women did, at any rate. She had the kind of beauty that couldn’t be hidden, not even behind humble clothing.

  But tonight, knowing the wives of his biggest investors were more than likely going to judge such things, he’d wondered what they would think if Dessa wore her typical attire: clothing meant for a woman who paid little attention to what others thought. A plain dress, perhaps; definitely serviceable. Fit for a party? Probably not. But just as long as no one said anything rude over which he would have to intercede, Henry didn’t care what she wore.

  He heard movement on the stairs before seeing her. The swish of material he hadn’t heard from her before, then . . .

  Plain? Anything but. Serviceable? Hardly. Definitely captivating.

  Taking a few steps closer, meeting her halfway into the room, he took both her hands, fashionably hidden in close-fitting gloves. “You’re a vision, Dessa,” he whispered, too late realizing he’d called her by her first name aloud.

  Her smile said she didn’t mind.

  With a quick farewell to Jane, who handed Dessa a lace shawl and looked so proud she might have thought herself solely responsible for Dessa’s loveliness, Henry escorted Dessa out to his carriage.

  “I’m so glad to have this time to talk to you, Mr. Hawkins,” said Dessa once they were settled and the carriage on its way.

  “Exactly what I was about to say.”

  “Really? Then surely it was God who arranged this evening.”

  Henry wasn’t sure about that. Yet, wasn’t she right? Didn’t God want him to be honest, at least with those who mattered most to him? He hoped Fallo took his time about getting them back to Henry’s home, as he’d been instructed earlier. Especially if Dessa had something to say to him too. He ought to let her go first.

  “I—” She started to speak, as if eager to do so, but stopped to hold his gaze intently. “What I have to say may come as a surprise to you, although perhaps not, since you’ve been convinced before that I can act in haste.”

  “Is there something you’re worried about, Miss Caldwell?”

  “Yes, very worried. I’m afraid I may need help with my dilemma. It’s about two new clients who need shelter at Pierson House.”

  “I’m glad to hear your mission is growing. Do you need more funds?”

  She shook her head. “It’s the new additions. The employers they’ve left behind aren’t pleased.”

  He frowned, forgetting for the moment that he wanted to speed the conversation along to get to his own confession. “Have you—any of you—been threatened?”

  “No. I’m hiding them. Their employer doesn’t know I have them.”

  That news wasn’t as good as she might hope it to sound. It wouldn’t take long to figure out Pierson House was the only place in town that openly welcomed the kind of woman needing to flee a greedy mac.

  “We can go to the authorities about it,” he suggested, “but you know as well as I do that the law around Pierson House isn’t exactly the same as the rest of the city. Payoffs are infamous. I admit I don’t know much about such activities; I don’t have many customers from this neighborhood.”

  She paused just long enough to let her face take on an even graver edge. Then her gaze fluttered, as if nervous uncertainty couldn’t be hidden any longer. “They’re Chinese, Mr. Hawkins. Sisters. From Hop Alley.”

  It took a moment for the meaning to absorb. What had she to do with Hop Alley? True, it was within the infamous heart of the Fourth Ward. He knew daring tourists came to Chinatown to see some of the strange sights and peek at places that promised opium; even on the street they could sniff a scent they weren’t likely to find anywhere else. But those who lived in Denver never mixed with the Chinese—unless they sneaked into one of those drug dens, and that wasn’t something anyone would admit. Even if they allowed their servants to take their laundry to a Chinese service, or ate in a restaurant that employed Chinese cooks, the fact remained: the only time the races mixed had been in a riot not all that long ago.

  Henry didn’t know what to say. She wanted his help, and he wanted to give it. He just wasn’t sure how. He may not listen to those who blamed the Chinese for any and all economic woes, accusing them of taking jobs away because they agreed to work cheaply. Nor did he believe them guilty of poisoning society with their “heathen ways”—people were responsible for their own beliefs. But while Henry had heard plenty of accusations, he knew few facts about them, with such a clear line between his society and theirs. What could he do?

  “This will take a little consideration,” he said slowly. “The memory of rioting between white and Chinese hasn’t died yet. Sometimes I think there are those who would look for a reason to start another.”

  “Selling an innocent girl shouldn’t be condoned anywhere, in either culture.”

  “True. But what one side might consider no business but their own could be just the excuse to start trouble.”

  When the carriage came to a sudden halt, both he and Dessa looked out the window, their attention drawn by voices. Not shouting, exactly, but commands. Firm ones.

  Confusion trumped Henry’s pondering about the extraordinary news Dessa had just shared. They were nowhere near his home, so there was no reason to stop. In fact, they weren’t yet beyond the edge of the Fourth Ward.

  Had trouble already found them because of the girls Dessa hid?

  Henry, taking up his walking stick, was about to simultaneously tap the ceiling and open the side door to investigate the delay. But he saw no rabble nearby, no riot about to erupt. Thank God.

  Then the door was opened before he put a hand to it, by a single man dressed in a dark suit
.

  For one awful moment Henry was convinced this was a holdup, much the same as he’d once carried out. His only thought was of Dessa, whether she was frightened, and how he would protect her since he was unarmed but for his walking stick.

  What sort of hoodlum did such a thing in the confines of a city, where even in this neighborhood reliable witnesses and even an officer could be found?

  He’d barely finished the thought when the interloper commanded his attention by jumping straight into the coach. He slammed the door behind him, jarring the entire coach with an impressive jiggle as he took the seat beside Henry.

  Turk Foster.

  Since Dessa had moved to the Fourth Ward, she’d walked the streets on more errands than she could count. Never once had she been accosted. She’d attributed that to God’s protection and her own swift gait, telling anyone who saw her that she was not only healthy but determined to get to wherever she was going.

  But as soon as she saw Turk Foster’s face—his smiling face—Dessa knew this was no assault. Just what it was, however, she had no idea.

  Mr. Foster appeared entirely at ease, though Mr. Hawkins looked as amazed as Dessa felt over the sudden and unexpected appearance of their visitor. He was dressed nearly as fashionably as Mr. Hawkins, with a black tailored suit, a handkerchief peeking out from his pocket, a top hat in place, and gloves on his hands.

  “Sorry about crowding you, Hawkins,” he said amiably. “And as nice as it would be to sit beside the charming Miss Caldwell, the view is much better from this side of the coach. Don’t you agree?”

  “What’s this about, Foster?” Mr. Hawkins demanded. “Even you wouldn’t stoop to highway robbery.”

  “No, that I wouldn’t,” he said with a laugh. “But I do intend to go to this party of yours. I’d hoped to offer Miss Caldwell a ride, but when I saw your coach pull up, I knew my plans could be accomplished more efficiently. This way I can speak to both of you here rather than demanding a private but curious moment in your home.”

  “And what is it that you want to speak to us about?”