by White, Carré
“She’s easy to manage, sir.”
“When we’re alone like this, you may call me by my first name. It’s Brandon.”
I glanced at him. “Brandon.”
“Yes?”
“I like that name. Mine’s too plain. I’d rather be called Ambrosia or Leticia or something exotic like Marigold.”
“I don’t think Marigold is exotic. What about Delphine or Celestine? Those are unusual, but…” he grinned slightly…“I do prefer Mary. There is nothing wrong with your name in the least. It’s as classic as Elizabeth or Jane.”
“I suppose.” I didn’t agree at all. The name was too plain for my tastes. “Marianne would’ve been better.”
“We can hardly choose our own names. You shall have to blame your parents then, I suppose.”
“I’m the second oldest of the bunch. My mother couldn’t have been name fatigued then.”
“Perhaps she named you after another family member. What’s your middle name?”
“Louise.” I made a face. “I don’t like that one either.”
“Perhaps, once you’re married, your husband will call you darling, or sweetling. Would that be better?”
“That would be…nice.”
He’d turned to his side, holding his head in the palm of his hand, while he rubbed Rosalind’s back. The baby wasn’t asleep yet, but she hadn’t fussed again. She turned her head to look at her father, who was only inches away.
“Georgette would’ve loved this.”
“Your wife, sir, I mean, Brandon?”
“Yes. We had wanted a baby for years before Rosalind came along. When she fell pregnant, it was an extraordinary time for us. We had been trying for five years. We had all but given up.” His eyes glistened. “It was a cruel twist of fate to have a dream realized and then dashed almost instantly. The doctor had no idea Georgette was in trouble. I had no idea either. After Rosalind was born, my wife closed her eyes, and then she was gone. To this day, I haven’t a clue what happened to her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What should’ve been the most joyous day of our lives became the worst.” His hand had dropped from the baby’s back, while he leaned against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “It’s not even been that long. She died six months ago.”
I stared at his profile, admiring the way his chin curved elegantly and his Adam’s apple protruded slightly. He was indeed a handsome man, but I could perceive his unhappiness most acutely in that silent, lengthy moment. He had gone inside himself, reliving memories no doubt.
He turned his head my way. “I haven’t spoken about this with anyone. I haven’t wanted to, but I find you easy to talk to.”
“You don’t seem to blame Rosalind for what happened. I’m glad for that.”
“Why would I blame her? It wasn’t her fault. It was…our poor destiny.”
“You’ll always have a part of Georgette, sir. You’ll have it in Rosalind.”
“She does look very much like her mother and that will increase as she grows. Her mother was a beautiful woman.”
“Do you have a photograph or a painting of her?”
“Yes, but not here. It’s in our house in Virginia.”
“Where you’ll return to once the railroad is built.”
“Yes.”
My heart sank, but I tried to keep my expression as even as possible. It wasn’t necessary to divulge the fact that I was enamored of him and that I wished he would never leave, that he would stay in The Colorado Territory…forever…with me.
He looked thoughtful. “It would be insane to stay here, wouldn’t it?”
Had he read my mind? “Insane?”
“This lawless, wild, and unpredictable town. I’d have to be mad to settle here…or in love, which is a form of insanity.”
I met his gaze, basking in the warmth of a different sort of appraisal. My belly buzzed pleasurably, a rush of sultry tingles pouring out from my core, leaving me with a feeling of intoxication. This was far better than three glasses of sherry.
Chapter Nine
The cries of a baby brought me out of my reverie. Rosalind needed to be fed. “I’ll take her to Megan. She’s hungry.”
The spell had been broken, and he sat up, reaching for the pillows behind his back. “Indeed. I’ve some reading to do, and I’ve kept you long enough.”
“I don’t mind, sir…er…Brandon. It’s no bother at all talking to you.” Rosalind was over my shoulder, but she was unhappy, crying steadily now. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Church is at ten?”
“Yes it is. I’ve never been away from my family this long. I’m eager to see them.”
“I understand.” He had gotten to his feet, tossing the pillows on the sofa. “Well then, have a good night, Mary. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You as well.”
It was disappointing watching him leave. I stared after him for a while, but Rosalind required my attention. Then I had the cat to take care of. By the time I was ready for bed, exhaustion had taken over, and I was asleep within minutes, Paws curled up next to me, purring softly. In the morning, I hurried to get ready for church, choosing a nicer dress with petticoats and a knitted shawl. While Rosalind slept, I fixed my hair, parting it down the center and smoothing it over my ears, while the back was gathered in a tight bun. A bonnet would hide most of my handiwork. When I had made myself presentable, I hurried from the room to find Mr. Carlyle and Megan seated at the table with Judy and Joshua. The little girl held her brother.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning,” said Megan.
Mr. Carlyle appraised me, his eyes traveling from my scuffed leather boots to the top of my head. A slight smile lingered around the edges of his mouth. I could hardly compare myself to the likes of Gwendolyn Phillips, but this was the best I could do with what little I had.
“You’re all dressed and ready,” he murmured.
“Yes, sir. Rosalind only woke once last night, and she didn't need feeding.”
“I’m aware of that,” said Megan. “I finally slept well.”
“Come join us, Mary. We’ve coffee and tea with bread and jam. It’s not bad at all.”
I eyed the table. “I will. It looks lovely.”
“So, we’re meeting your folks today?” asked Megan.
“Yes, if you want. My stepmother’s sister has brunch on Sundays. It’s an excuse for everyone to get together and eat. There’ll be plenty of children and babies. They don’t mind extra guests.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” said Megan. “I’ve always wanted to see a Hoffman farm.”
“Paulina’s isn’t nearly as big as Hannah’s. Fanny’s farm is small in comparison, and Louisa only has a vegetable garden. Her husband makes furniture. Mayor Delano purchased a table and chairs from him last year. Adaline Ross bought an armoire, and the Doc Caldwell ordered a new desk. He’s working on that right now.”
“He sounds rather successful,” said Mr. Carlyle.
“Yes, and his things are beautiful and well-crafted. If I ever had the money, I’d have him make a bedframe with a matching dresser. I know the design I want.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“Being family, he’ll offer it at a discount.” I poured a cup of tea.
“You’ve been livin’ with them for a coupla years now, haven’t you?”
“I have, ever since my uncle passed away. Pastor Bailey took care of us for a while, but he was a bachelor then, and in a small apartment over the bakery. We were rather crowded. Then he married Fanny, and we now have a house, but there’s always work. I should feel guilty for not being home to help with the washing…but…my sister was determined to see me employed, so here I am.”
“I’ve seen her in town and at church. She’s a handsome woman.”
I glanced at Megan. “Who?”
“Fanny, Mrs. Bailey.”
“She is. I can’t complain at all about any of the Hoffmans. They are
good people.”
“Your sister married an Indian.”
I bristled at her tone. “Yes, she did, but he had a white father. He knows very little of his mother’s people.” Ryan had been harassed frequently before the Hoffmans had taken him under their wing. Nathan, Hannah’s husband, brought him to the saloon regularly to have a drink and show the locals that he was no heathen, as they so indelicately thought of him. “I like Ryan a great deal. He once saved my sister’s life. Her skirts caught fire, and she would’ve died had he not had the presence of mind to stop her from running.”
“That is dangerous, indeed,” said Mr. Carlyle. “She was lucky.”
“Then I’ll be happy to shake his hand,” said Megan.
I smiled at that. “Could you pass the butter, please?”
“Certainly.” Megan handed me a small, ceramic dish.
“Is the cat awake yet?” asked Judy, as she bounced her brother on her knee.
“I’m not sure. You can check on her, if you want.”
Excitement lit her eyes. “I will. Mamma, hold Josh. I’ve things to do.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
A knock on the door had my attention. “I’ll see to that.” I strolled down the hallway. “Coming.” Opening the door, a mob-capped servant handed me several letters. “Thank you.” Returning to the parlor, I gave them to Mr. Carlyle. “Mail, sir.”
“Thank you. I’d forgotten to go to the post office yesterday. Allette must’ve retrieved them.”
I sat and resumed eating, while he opened the first, reading the contents. He was quiet for a long time, and, after Rosalind began crying, I got to my feet to see to her. Changing her wet pants, I brought her to Megan, who was in her room with Judy and Joshua, who played on the bed with the cat. When I returned to the parlor, Mr. Carlyle was still reading. I poured another cup of tea, waiting for Rosalind to finish eating.
He lifted his head from the paper. “It seems I’m to be surrounded by women.”
“Pardon?”
“My sister and her friend are nearly here. This letter came from Fort Laramie.”
“I remember that place. That’s quite a drive.”
“The last week was the worst.”
“I hope we get a train soon, sir. We are in desperate need. It would do wonders for our city.”
“I know. Commerce would improve and traveling would be a thing to look forward to rather than dread.”
“No one would ever go by wagon again.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
“I’m happy for you, sir. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, once your sister and her friend arrive.”
“I’m to arrange accommodations, and I should speak to someone about that. There’s no room here.” He sat back in the chair. “What will I do with a gaggle of women?”
“Half of us are employees. Does that help?”
He smiled. “I suppose.”
“Megan and I are at your beck and call. We try not to cause too much trouble.”
A look of incredulity came over him. “I beg to differ. What do you call that ball of fluff in the other room? I found hair all over my jacket this morning. Grey hair.”
“You did? I’m sorry, sir. I’ll remove it at once.” I was about to get to my feet, but his hand shot across the table.
“I’m teasing, Mary. You needn’t do anything about it. I’ll leave it for Allette.”
“I don’t know how that happened. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room.”
“The door is easy to open, I’m afraid. It doesn’t shut properly. This hotel’s made of wood, and I think it’s settled improperly. Your door’s a bit sticky, and mine’s not sticky enough.”
“Hannah’s house has some strange angles too. Her first husband built it, and it’s a bit off.”
“It takes a true craftsman to construct a house properly.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“So then, what am I to do?” He’d changed the subject again. “She’s bringing Miss Clarissa Hamilton along, who I have met before, but what the devil? She’s determined to play matchmaker, but why go through all the trouble of traveling for three months to get here?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
He’d closed his eyes. “Am I expected to marry again so soon? I can afford a nanny and a wet nurse. Why do I need a wife?”
“For companionship and…other things.” I had spoken my mind, but I regretted it immediately, flushing with embarrassment.
His look was considering. “Those “other things” can be taken care of as well.”
“Yes, in…parlour houses.”
“You find them abhorrent.”
“Certainly. A happily married man shouldn’t have to…go there.”
“But they do in droves.”
“It’s speaks rather ill of your sex then, doesn’t it?” He blinked. “I shouldn’t have said that! I…do forgive me, sir. I spoke too bluntly.”
“What other things do you feel as passionately about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Lots of things, sir, but I really should have kept that to myself.”
“Not the meek little wallflower you present yourself to be…interesting.”
“But…I’ve just insulted you and every other man on earth. I’m truly sorry. Women can be just as bad, I suppose, er…well…the soiled doves anyhow. But, then again, there are few options for widows or poor women. They’re forced to fend for themselves in any way they can. The church gives out food and clothing, but even that can’t house and feed all the needy.”
He scratched his chin, while eyeing me. There was something in his gaze that led me to believe he wasn’t angry in the least. There was a glimmer in his eye, peculiar and confusing, but I could only compare it to—admiration?
I got to my feet. “I should check on Rosalind. Then we had best get ready to go. Will you still join me for brunch, sir, or have I scared you off?”
“I’ll come. I’m curious now to know what your opinions are on other things.”
“Oh, please, no. If I open my mouth about everything, you’d hate me.”
He barked with laughter. “Go get your things, my impertinent one.”
“Even that’s an improvement over bland Mary.” I smiled in return, not being able to help myself.
He’d yet to stop grinning. “So it is.”
We left the hotel an hour later, an entourage of women and children, while our stalwart chaperone, Mr. Carlyle, held the door open for us, and assisted us into the carriage. To arrive at church in such fashion and style was a thrill, although the ride was short. Denver City was quiet at this time of day, as most of the saloon patrons were in bed still. There were dozens of wagons and carriages in front of the church and more parked in the empty field nearby. I recognized family members immediately, and, while I held Rosalind, I approached Hannah, who stood with Jane and her husband, Ryan.
“Good morning!” Hannah said. “What a darling baby!”
“She’s Mr. Carlyle’s.” I glanced over my shoulder, spying him speaking to the mayor and several businessmen. “There he is.”
“And a handsome man to boot,” murmured Hannah. “You seem well. The world of employment agrees with you.”
“I’m quite happily situated, especially since Jane forced me from her home. I do miss Gordon.” I touched her baby, feeling his soft face. “How has he been without me?”
“He’s as noisy as ever when he wants to be fed,” said Jane.
Susanna, my younger sister, approached. “Well, isn’t this fine? You leave without saying goodbye, and I don’t see you for a week. I shall never forgive you.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s really all Jane’s fault. She and Mrs. Hoffman sent me to town. If you want to blame someone, it’s them.”
Hannah laughed, “The situation seems to be working well. If nothing’s broken, why are we arguing? We should go inside. The service is about to start.”
Susanna glanced at Rosalind. “You always have a baby on yo
u, and what a pretty girl she is.”
“She’s easy too. I must say, I adore my new job, and I’m happy Jane forced me out of the house.”
“Oh, I shall never live it down,” mumbled Jane.
We filed into the church, where I spied other family members. I waved to Fanny and Jack and they returned the favor. Louisa and Matthias took up an entire row of seats with their brood. Over the din of talking and laughter, I spied several painted ladies, who wore demure morning dresses with gloves and hats. Gwendolyn Phillips was present as well, along with the town doctor and his wife, and Sally Higgins and her husband, who owned the mercantile. When Pastor Bailey took to the pulpit, he gazed at us with smiling eyes, clearly appreciating the healthy turn out.
The reading was from Matthew 16:26, and, while I sat next to Megan and Judy, Mr. Carlyle was across the room, seated near Mrs. Phillips. I wasn’t particularly happy with this arrangement, but I hardly had a say in things, seeing that I was only an employee. I tried to pay attention to Pastor Bailey, but my mind drifted to the night before and the conversation by the fire. I had enjoyed my time with Brandon, and I hoped we would be able to speak often in the evenings, but I could hardly affect his life in that manner. He had touched my face…and I had hoped he might kiss me, but…I shook myself, determined not to think of such things at church.
But…the memories persisted, and, as the sermon went on…I couldn’t help thinking that he was one of the most charming men I had ever met. Dare I even hope that he could feel the same way about me?
Chapter Ten
After the service, we arrived at Paulina’s farm. If I had been worried that Mr. Carlyle and Megan would be ill-received, I shouldn’t have. They were greeted with open arms and welcomed as esteemed guests. We sat behind the house under several trees, talking and laughing, while the aroma of pork filled the air. With so many people, children, and babies, it was an exhausting afternoon, and, by the time we arrived at the Broadwell House, we were eager to take to our beds, not needing to eat supper, as we were fair to bursting from the buffet that went on all day.
“I want to thank you for inviting me to the family brunch, Mary.” Mr. Carlyle had stopped me in the hallway. He’d ordered a bath sent up, and we were all waiting for the knock on the door. “I enjoyed meeting your family.”