Matilda nodded sagely, “Marie’s just turned twenty this year, and it’s time she found a husband.”
Marie playfully swatted the older lady on the arm. “Grandmama, it’s not as if I’m quite a spinster yet.”
“Hmph. Not yet, but good men are rare as hen’s teeth in this untamed wilderness. You need to find a respectable gentleman to settle down with while you’re in your prime!” She took the sting from her words with a smile.
“I agree, Marie, you’re nowhere near spinsterhood.” Emily smiled at the girl, then turned to the women and decided to take the heat off of Marie — by inviting it onto herself. “I have decided not to marry,” she declared.
They gasped, as if she’d said she was planning to pinch off her own head and feed it to a bear. She shrugged. “I had a bad experience in New York, one that helped me realize I do not wish to be under some man’s controlling thumb.”
Miss Bates agreed with her, if only silently with a nod and a smile.
Mrs. Holderman waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, honey, it’s different out here in Colorado. The men are different, too. They tend to like their women more independent. Just look at us.” She pointed to herself and Mrs. Easterwood. “We are under no controlling man’s thumb.” She giggled. “And our husbands love it. Why, a simpering woman wouldn’t last a month out here. This land takes backbone to tame.” She winked at Emily. “And so do the men!”
That got a giggle out of everyone.
“The banker certainly seemed taken with you the other day, Miss Maxwell.” Emily blushed.
Mrs. Easterwood smiled at the other women and proclaimed, “He asked to escort her to dinner.”
Marie sighed. “He’s so handsome.”
“He is,” Emily admitted.
“When are you going out?” Katherine asked.
“Oh, we’re not. I told him no.”
“What?” Mrs. Holderman shook her head in apparent shock. “Why on earth would you do that?” She sounded as offended as if Emily had turned down her own son.
When the women continued to stare at her, Emily began to wonder if she’d made a mistake. She smiled. “So you think I should tell him yes?”
“He’s rich, he’s handsome, and he’s interested,” Mrs. Holderman said. “Strike while the iron’s hot, I say, dear. And if you turn him down again, perhaps...” Mrs. Holderman paused and looked at her granddaughter. “Then perhaps Marie and I will visit the bank next week.”
“Grandmama,” Marie began, but her grandmother shushed her and turned back to Emily.
Feeling the weight of the women’s gazes as well as their opinions, Emily laughed. “All right. You have convinced me. If Mr. Vickers asks me again, I will tell him yes.” She still wasn’t planning to marry, but perhaps she could enjoy male companionship now and then — and a nice dinner.
“And it appears that you will get your chance sooner than you might have thought,” Mrs. Easterwood whispered. “Mr. Vickers is outside the room, and it looks as though he’s been waiting for you.”
Emily looked up to see that Mr. Vickers was, indeed, right outside the doorway — and he was, indeed, looking at her, though he turned his head when she caught him.
She offered a smile and, as the women were glancing back at her and giggling while they filed out the door, Mr. Vickers stepped inside to where Mrs. Easterwood and Emily stood.
“Ladies, I am glad I found you.”
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Vickers,” Emily said.
“I heard you were teaching a class today. I’m here to ask you to dinner again, in the hopes that you’ve changed your mind.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you refuse me again, I will have no choice but to become a student in your class so I may gaze upon your beauty freely.”
She laughed, remembering the promise she’d made to the women — who were peeking through the door and watching at this very moment. “Well I wouldn’t want to see you get paint on such a fine suit. It would be my pleasure to go to dinner with you, sir.”
His smile in return was warm. “Wonderful! Tomorrow evening?”
“Yes.” Then, realizing she didn’t want him picking her up in front of Joseph — though why that should matter, she didn’t know — she said, “May I meet you at the restaurant?”
He looked a bit disappointed, but then said, “Oh, of course. I would imagine that your brother will be bringing you? Sometimes I forget the rules of polite society. They’re not nearly so rigorous out here.”
“Yes, he will be.”
“I will make reservations at the steakhouse here in the hotel for six o’clock, and will await your arrival. You have made my day, Miss Maxwell.” She noticed that he did have very nice teeth and a smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “May I carry some of your supplies?”
“Thank you. That would be most kind.”
The next day, Emily made sure she was out of the store before Joseph returned from the mine. For some weird reason, she still didn’t want him to know she was going with Mr. Vickers to dinner.
When she told her brother, he frowned. “I don’t have a good feeling about him, sis.”
“He’s the president of the bank and we’re just going to dinner. You can sit at the next table, if you’d like. And I told him you’d be accompanying me there and I’d meet him.” She smiled at him. “Will you please walk me there?”
“Yes.” Robert sighed and shook his head. “And I will return to pick you up at eight o’clock sharp. That gives you two hours for a long leisurely dinner and a visit. Tell him I’ll be watching for you.”
“He’s not going to do something horrible to me in the middle of a fancy hotel.”
There were clouds overhead which cooled the air so the walk from their shop down Main Street to the Antlers Hotel was a pleasant one — though Robert’s jaw was set.
She touched his arm. “I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
“There are nicer men in this town than Samuel Vickers, and you’ve met them. I just don’t want you to be pulled in by someone who is much like your father.”
“I didn’t see that at all about him,” she protested.
“Give it time,” Robert said. “I suppose that one of the good things about having dinner with him in a public place is that perhaps you’ll see through him. You’ll find that he and your father share quite a few mannerisms and opinions.”
When they arrived at the hotel, he walked her up the steps and inside to the restaurant. His eyes roamed the dining room, looking for Mr. Vickers. When he spotted him, his eyes narrowed a bit. “I’ll be back at eight,” he reminded her. “And should you need me prior to then, have one of the hotel runners come to the shop.”
“Thank you, Robert.” She kissed his cheek, and he grumbled before leaving her to her evening.
She turned back to see Mr. Vickers walking toward her. He took her hand and kissed it in a courtly fashion. “You look lovely this evening, Miss Maxwell.”
He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and led her back to his table, pulling out a chair for her.
A server brought them glasses of water — and a bottle of wine.
Emily was not a winebibber. Her father had not allowed wine in their house, at least not for her consumption. Her sister’s husband was a drunk and she would never touch the stuff, but she didn’t want to appear impolite or difficult right from the start. Finally, she just said, “Thank you.” After all, she didn’t have to drink it just because it was placed before her.
“How do you like our city, so far?”
“Very much. It seems so much more...” She searched for the right word. “...vibrant than back east.”
“Where back east do you hail from?”
She didn’t want to reveal too much, especially to a banker who might have connections back east, so she simply said, “New York State.”
He nodded. “I was born in Boston, myself, and moved here eleven years ago.”
“Really? What brought you here?”
“I was in th
e mood for an adventure, so my brother and I hopped on a train and came west. We liked the looks of Colorado Springs, and the bank was just opening its door and looking for a manager. I had worked for my father’s bank in Boston, so they immediately hired me.”
“What about your brother?”
“He kept moving west. He’s in California now. Works at a bank in San Francisco.”
“So banking is in your blood, then.”
He nodded. “I took the liberty of ordering for us both. I hope that is acceptable.”
She preferred making her own choices, but she was certainly used to the men in her life making them for her. Unfortunately, it was the first strike against him. She truly hoped her brother was being overprotective, but it wasn’t a good start to the evening. Instead of mentioning it though, she just schooled her features as she’d been taught, and nodded once. “Thank you.”
The waiter brought plates of soup to the table first. Oyster soup, though how they got oysters this far inland, she didn’t know. It tasted wonderful, though.
As they ate and chatted, she learned that he’d gone back east for a visit in 1886 and had been at the celebration when the gift of the Statue of Liberty had been accepted from France and placed in the harbor. “I was there, too,” she admitted, smiling at the coincidence. “It is a small world, is it not?”
“Yes. Quite a coincidence.” He smiled warmly, then took a sip of wine and motioned toward her glass. “It’s a very good year.”
She lifted her glass and he raised his. “To new friends,” he said, and clinked her glass lightly.
She nodded and took the tiniest of sips. “To new friends.” She struggled to cover her wince when the fermented liquid hit her palate; she had no idea what the big to-do was if that’s what all wine tasted like.
The next course was a salad, and then — not too big of a surprise since this was a steakhouse — two large steaks with baked potatoes and vegetables. The meal was as good as any from the restaurants her father had taken her to in New York.
They chit-chatted between bites. She could only eat half of the massive steak. As he continued to work on his steak, she pondered aloud, “I’ve been wondering how safe the banks are this far west. I’ve read stories of bank robberies.”
“I can assure you that we have taken the utmost security precautions, both in the way the bank was built, and in our security men. Your money would be quite safe in my bank.”
“How about gemstones? Do you have special arrangements for those?”
“Our safety deposit boxes would be ideal for those.”
“You’ve never had anything stolen from the bank?”
“Never. One woman claimed she’d lost her jewelry two years ago, but she was proved to be lying.” He shrugged. “She wanted the bank to buy her some jewelry, but I was determined that a thief would not tarnish the name of the bank I’ve worked so hard to build.”
“What happened?”
“The woman in question withdrew her claim with the police, as she well should have, and took her business elsewhere, which we were mutually happy about. But this is business talk at a getting-to-know-you dinner. Come into the bank anytime and I will show you the security measures. For now, I want to know why you came to town, what your interests are, and any other interesting tidbits that make you who you are.”
So they did exactly that. As the entrée plates were cleared and a delicious dessert served, they talked about many subjects. Samuel Vickers was a charming, sophisticated, well-read man. She suspected he wouldn’t be wealthy enough to suit her father, but he was successful and respected here in Colorado Springs. And he kept her entertained.
So much so that she was surprised when he looked over her shoulder and said, “It appears that your escort has arrived.”
She looked around. It wasn’t her brother standing at the entrance, it was Joseph — and he looked angry.
She gave him a merry wave and turned back to Mr. Vickers. “I lost track of time because of the enjoyable company. Thank you.”
“I hope you will permit me to call on you again, Miss Maxwell.” His words held promise.
“I will certainly consider it,” she said. “Now I really must go.”
He stood and kissed her hand again.
I Should Be Sorry — But I’m Not
IT TOOK EVERYTHING IN JOSEPH to keep from marching over and punching Samuel Vickers in his sanctimonious face. Rage swirled through him, anger at her ... lies? Did the fact that she’d told him she wasn’t interested in dating but then went to dinner with the banker count as a lie?
In his mind, yes. It most certainly did.
As she walked toward him, he could tell she sensed his anger, because she drew herself up, raised her chin and marched right past him.
He shot one last death glare at the banker and turned to follow her.
She was moving pretty fast and he had to race to keep up.
“Why isn’t my brother here?” she asked, without looking up at him.
“He asked me to come get you, but he neglected to tell me you were out on a date. I wouldn’t have believed it if he had, since you informed me just days ago that you didn’t intend to date while you were here.”
She glanced up at him then. “It was just a dinner.” She flicked her gaze away again and started walking.
“Just a dinner. You said you didn’t want romance. You said you didn’t want any men in your life.” His voice got dangerously low and he reached out and took her arm so she had to stop and look at him. His eyes glittered with anger. “You lied to me.”
“I don’t want to get serious about any man,” she corrected.
“What do you call that dinner? He was sure enough serious.”
“He courted me. What was I to do? I’m open to being courted, just not to marriage.”
“Fine. Good to know. Then I shall let the courting commence.” He wasn’t stepping aside for any man here — especially not that weasel Samuel Vickers, and especially not where this infuriating woman was concerned. He would court her — and he’d let her know the score. “If there is going to be any courting done here, then I’ll be the one doing it.”
She looked up at him and a small smile quirked on her face. She didn’t say anything as people walked past them.
“So, I’ll ask again,” he said, in a softer and yet still confrontational tone, “Would you let me take you to dinner, Miss Maxwell?”
“Dinner?” She tilted her head and pretended to examine him and consider the notion. “Why yes, Mr. Keeton. I’d love to have dinner with you. As long as neither of us cooks it.”
Then she reached up and hooked her hand around his elbow. He looked down at her, tipped his head in confusion, and allowed her to pull him toward the store as if there had been no confrontation at all. This woman was going to drive him to distraction.
However, when he tucked her hand more securely into his arm, his fingers burned with the spark between them.
Emily’s heart warmed as they walked.
It seemed ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but feel flattered that a man like Joseph had such strong feelings for her, as evidenced by his show of jealousy when he found her out with another man.
She glanced up at him, then returned her eyes to the street. She had mixed feelings, because she did not want to get married, but she did enjoy spending time with Joseph, and was willing to admit that she’d like to do more of it.
She’d learned something this evening. Several things, actually.
Joseph liked her.
Mr. Vickers liked her, and even entertained her — but her heart didn’t do little pitterpats when she was around him. They spoke intellectually and enjoyably, but her heart was not involved.
The mere touch of her hand on Joseph’s arm sent tingles through her.
Where just a short while back, her only possible suitor was a disgusting, toady little man twice her age, she now found herself unexpectedly surrounded by handsome, would-be suitors.
As they w
alked, she began to chat. “Have I told you what I like best about Colorado Springs?”
He glanced down at her with a hint of that rakish smile that she’d come to expect. “No. Tell me.”
The handsome men, she thought, but didn’t say. She quirked her mouth up. “The freedom here. Even women are free to say their minds and do as they please.”
“Not all women, I can assure you. You are in a class by yourself.”
That pleased her because he’d meant something entirely different, but from what she’d seen so far, women truly did have much more liberty, and were treated more as equals here.
A few steps later, he said, “Do you know what I like here?”
“No. Tell me,” she parroted his words.
“That I can be anything if I work hard enough. A miner. A store owner.” He paused and misstepped as they reached the store. As he pulled out his key, he said, “A suitor.”
“Why, Mr. Keeton, how romantic of you.” And it was. Her heart fluttered as she glanced briefly at his well-shaped, firm lips. She was shocked when the thought flitted through her mind that they’d be much more pleasing to kiss than Ebenezer Lloyd’s. Not that it would take much, but still. What was she thinking?
He opened the door and let her in, then locked it behind them. They walked toward the back, past the counters. Before they reached the door to the stairs, he stopped. “Miss Maxwell, you are truly the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
She’d heard compliments from men for years, some even sincere, but none had elicited this kind of response from her. She felt the color rise in her cheeks and her heart fluttered. “Thank you, Mr. Keeton.”
He reached out and took her hand. It was incredibly forward of him, and yet it felt so right. “I very much want to court you. I will ask your brother tomorrow if he approves.”
She leaned in closer to him and lowered her voice so that the others wouldn’t hear them. “Let’s start with dinner and then see if we should like to repeat the experience.”
He leaned down to hear what she said and suddenly, those lips were just inches from hers. She sucked in a breath and forgot what they were talking about. The moment felt suspended in time as his lips moved closer to hers, brushing them lightly, asking, not demanding. She leaned into him.
Colorado Dreams (Rocky Mountain Romances Book 7) Page 6