Golden Chances

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  “I simply asked Faith if she was going to Wyoming.”

  “I saw you talking to that bigmouth Lydia Abbott,” Tempy said. “Did you tell her Faith was going to work in Wyoming?” Tempy grabbed her sister’s arm.

  “What if I did? She’s going, isn’t she?” Virtuous jerked free of Tempy’s grasp. “You are, aren’t you, Faith?”

  Faith opened her mouth to speak, but Hannah jumped in to heal the family breach. “Of course she is, but the idea of leaving all of us is so new, Faith just needs a little time.”

  Chapter Eight

  Faith did need a little time. More than a little time. But she didn’t have it.

  The second bill soliciting payment of delinquent taxes arrived Monday morning, two days after Christmas. Payment was due on the 31st day of December. Failure to pay would result in forfeiture of the Richmond and Petersburg properties. Time had run out.

  Faith pulled on her worn black traveling cape and gloves, then headed for the front door, the envelope containing the property tax bill clutched in one fist.

  Tempy followed close on her niece’s heels. “Faith, where are you going?”

  “To take care of this.”

  “Faith?”

  “Don’t worry, Tempy, I know what I’m doing.” Faith smiled at her aunt, then opened the door. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  She walked quickly down the street, not daring to slow her steps until she reached the telegraph office.

  “What can I do for you, Miss Collins?” Bert Winthrop stood behind the counter.

  “I need to send a telegram, Mr. Winthrop, right away.”

  “Who to?” Winthrop grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a pencil.

  “Mr. Reese Jordan, the Presidential Suite, Madison Hotel, Washington City.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “I’ll write it out for you.” Faith took the sheet of paper and wrote out her request. “I’ll wait for a reply.” She handed him the message along with payment.

  “The reply might take a while,” Bert warned.

  “That’s all right, Mr. Winthrop, I’ll wait.” She sat on the hard wooden bench in front of the iron stove and waited while Bert Winthrop telegraphed the message.

  * * *

  Reese Jordan sat lounging in a leather wing chair in the smoking room of the Madison Hotel, a thin cigar clenched between his teeth. He sat upright as the messenger called his name.

  “Here.” Reese folded a newspaper and tossed it aside.

  “Telegram for you, Mr. Jordan.” The boy handed Reese a folded slip of paper.

  Reese flipped him a coin. He unfolded the paper, then decided against reading it in the lounge. He refolded the note and grasping it firmly, left the lounge, and hurried up the stairs to the privacy of his suite.

  His fingers shook slightly as he leaned against the door of his suite and unfolded the paper. The message was brief and to the point: I ACCEPT. REQUEST IMMEDIATE ADVANCE ON SALARY. SEND $3086.34 TO THE BANK OF VIRGINIA. THANK YOU. FAITH ELIZABETH COLLINS.

  Reese’s triumphant shout brought David running from the other room. “She accepted. Start packing, cousin, you’re going to Richmond.”

  “I’m going? I thought you would want to go,” David said.

  “It’s better if you go,” Reese told him. “More businesslike.”

  “What about the arrangements?” David asked.

  “I’ll take care of everything. Are the contracts ready?”

  David nodded. “Everything except the amounts.”

  “We’ll go over those when she gets here. Here take this.” Reese walked to his desk and began writing. “It’s a bank draft. See that it’s deposited in Faith’s bank account. Oh, and make sure, the older ladies have access to the account.”

  David glanced at the bank draft. “Have you lost your mind, Reese? This draft is for ten thousand dollars. You haven’t signed the contracts yet, or settled on a fee. This is too much.”

  “Not for this. Don’t you see, David? The money is my guarantee. She can’t possibly pay this back. She’ll have to stay as long as I need her.”

  “I have a better way to guarantee she’ll stay,” David said. “You don’t know how much this plan of yours is going to cost. She could ask for an exorbitant amount.”

  Reese looked down at the telegram in his hand and smiled. “The woman who wouldn’t accept a fruit basket? I don’t think so.”

  “Why not make sure?” David said. “Marry her.”

  “I’m not interested in standing up with her in front of a preacher.”

  “You won’t have to. You can marry her by proxy. I’ll stand up for you,” David explained. “It’s all very legal. Quicker and easier than arranging an adoption. And quieter. One she leaves Wyoming, you’ll be guaranteed a divorce on grounds of desertion.”

  “If she leaves,” Reese pointed out.

  “She’ll leave.”

  Reese thought it over. “A proxy marriage is risky.”

  “No riskier than the other plan.”

  “All right, David, but don’t quibble about the amount. She’s worth any amount. And David…”

  “Yes?”

  “If she asks, tell her you deposited the requested amount in her account.”

  “She requested that much money?”

  “She requested much, much less than I’m sending,” Reese explained.

  “Think, David, why would she need a specific amount of money?”

  “Taxes. Of course, she owns a house and possibly other property.”

  “And when those crooks in office find out she can pay the tax she owes, they’ll probably raise the tax. They want the land, not money. I’m sending enough to allow her to keep her house and whatever else she owns. She’s got to have a place to go to when our arrangement ends. She can’t stay in Wyoming.”

  “Anything else?” David wanted to know.

  “If you need it, there is more money where that came from, but don’t tell her that. And David, hurry back.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Richmond yourself?”

  “I’m positive,” Reese told him. It was safer for Reese to stay in Washington and have a vague picture of Faith somewhere in Richmond, than to be able to visualize the tiniest details of her surroundings. He intended to follow his plan and remember to keep the relationship purely business. Their arrangement was temporary. He would never forget that.

  Reese’s eyes narrowed and his face darkened at the thought. He carefully folded the telegram and placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket, next to his heart. Snatching his coat from the hook on the hall tree, he thrust his arms into the sleeves, then put on his hat and gloves.

  “Where are you going?” David looked at his cousin. Reese’s lighthearted, triumphant mood had vanished.

  “To the telegraph office and the train station. You change and pack. You’ll be traveling most of the night. I’ll take care of the other details.”

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, the key on the telegraph handset in Bert Winthrop’s Richmond office began to jangle. Bert grabbed a pencil stub and began to write.

  “It’s for you, Miss Collins.”

  Faith jumped as if she’d been shot. She stood up and walked hesitantly to the counter, her body stiff from the long wait on the hard, wooden bench. “What does it say?” Her soft voice quivered with suppressed excitement.

  Bert Winthrop looked down at her. She was standing on tiptoes, attempting to read the words scrawled on the paper from across the width of the high counter. Her face was flushed from excitement or from the heat of the stove; he couldn’t tell which. Her big gray eyes sparkled. He realized for the first time, that Faith Collins was a beautiful woman. He always thought of her as Miss Collins. Efficient, quiet, hardworking, dull, Miss Collins. A diligent, gray sparrow in a houseful of flighty hens. The transformation was amazing. This Miss Collins took his breath away.

  “What does it say, Mr. Winthrop?” Faith asked again.

 
Bert read the hastily scribbled words. “It says, ‘Delighted by your acceptance. David will arrive early morning. Waiting anxiously for your arrival. R. Jordan.’”

  “May I see it?” Faith asked.

  “You can keep it.” Bert handed over the paper.

  Faith clutched the piece of paper to her bosom. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, bobbing up and down in front of the counter.

  “I guess this means you’ll be goin’ out west.” Bert’s observation brought Faith to her senses.

  She tucked the note into her new black, silk purse and carefully walked back to the bench. She smoothed the strands of hair that had escaped from her tidy bun and took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  Faith thought for a moment and then gave Bert Winthrop a hesitant, little smile. “Yes, Mr. Winthrop, I suppose it does.”

  Chapter Nine

  David Alexander arrived in Richmond early the next morning. He hired a hack at the livery and drove to Collins House.

  Faith answered the door when he knocked. “Do you have it?” she whispered, urgently.

  David nodded. He reached inside his overcoat and patted the breast pocket of his jacket. “It’s safe and sound.”

  “May I see it?”

  David shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Collins, but I have very explicit instructions from Reese. It’s better if no one knows I have this on me.” David tried to soften her disappointment.

  Faith looked up at him with understanding in her eyes. She had been the victim of a robbery. “The bank opens at eight-thirty.”

  “Good. We have three hours before our train leaves. Are you ready?” She looked tired, as if she’d slept very little the night before.

  “Yes, we’re all packed, but Joy is still sleeping.” Faith stared at David Alexander. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, his suit was wrinkled, and he still stood on the front porch, his hat in one hand, his satchel in the other. “Goodness, where are my manners? Come in, Mr. Alexander. Make yourself comfortable while I get you a cup of strong, black coffee.” Faith stepped aside and allowed David to enter the house.

  He started in the direction of the parlor, but she led him past it to the kitchen. A fire burned in the big, cast iron stove in the corner of the room. A pot of coffee simmered on top.

  “Aunt Tempy, you remember Mr. Alexander?”

  Tempy turned from the stove. “Of course I do. Sit down, Mr. Alexander. Let me take your hat and coat while Faith pours you a cup of coffee.”

  David handed his coat and hat to Temperance, but kept his satchel full of documents by his side. Faith poured the coffee and placed a cup in front of him. David took a sip of the hot liquid before he spoke. “You,” he said to Faith, “and one of the ladies will need to come with me to the bank and to the courthouse.”

  “Why?” Faith asked.

  “I need to transfer some money into your aunts’ account.” David placed his cup back in its saucer. “And we need to accomplish the marriage.”

  Faith nearly dropped the coffee pot. “Marriage? Mr. Jordan didn’t say anything about a wedding.”

  “I’ll go,” Tempy volunteered.

  “Fine. You can be our witness.” David continued, “We’ll go to the courthouse as soon as it opens, then to the bank. Miss Hamilton, we’ll also need you in Washington. To witness the contracts. It will mean an overnight stay, but Reese will pay your expenses.” David took another sip of coffee, then reached for the plate of biscuits Tempy put before him.

  “What time will Mr. Jordan be arriving?” Tempy was nearly bursting with excitement.

  “He’s not coming. I’ll be standing in for him,” David said.

  “I’ll be marrying you?” Faith gestured toward David.

  Temperance prudently took the coffee pot from her niece’s hand and placed it on the stove.

  “You’ll be marrying Reese,” David assured her, “by legal proxy.”

  “He’s not coming to our wedding?”

  “He has business in Washington,” David said gently.

  “It doesn’t matter, darling.” Tempy rushed to soothe Faith’s wounds. “You’ll still be married to him.”

  Faith looked David Alexander in the eye. “For how long?”

  “Until the baby’s born.”

  “And then what? Annulment?”

  David shook his head. “Divorce.”

  Faith took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and pulled herself up to her full five feet. “At least I know where I stand.”

  * * *

  The four of them—Faith, Joy, Temperance, and David Alexander—boarded the ten-fifteen train with a quarter of an hour to spare.

  Faith sighed in relief. They had somehow managed to take care of everything. David Alexander had safely deposited the bank draft in an account at The Bank of Virginia. The taxes were paid. And Faith was married to a man who hadn’t even come to the ceremony. A man who sent her thousands of dollars, but forgot to send a plain, gold band.

  Faith and Joy had said loving goodbyes to Hannah, Agnes, and Aunt Virt. Faith had pressed ten-dollar gold pieces into each of their hands as she hugged them.

  Tempy also said goodbye to the others. She left Virt in charge of the family until she returned, then handed her older sister a list of things to do while she was gone, hoping it would keep them too busy to worry.

  Faith smiled at Joy, bouncing on the seat opposite her own. Her little pug nose was pressed against the glass window in her eagerness to see everything, her warm breath fogging the glass.

  “Look, Faith!” Joy pointed down the tracks.

  Faith turned to look out the window and watched as the train station grew smaller and smaller in the distance. She bit her lip as a mixture of excitement and apprehension tore at her insides. It was comforting to look across the seat and find Tempy seated firmly next to Joy. The deal had been made. Soon, she would leave for Wyoming, but for a little while longer, she had Temperance with her.

  The train ride to Washington seemed uncomfortably long. It was cold in the passenger car. Faith changed seats so that she, Tempy, and Joy could huddle together for warmth. David sat alone, wrapped in his greatcoat. The first burst of excited conversation died with the passage of long hours. The four of them dozed, succumbing to the hypnotic rhythm of the train and the boredom of confinement.

  * * *

  In Washington, Reese Jordan spent his hours working. He had made all of the arrangements for the trip to Wyoming and was clearing his desk in preparation for Faith’s arrival. His other business ventures could wait until the details of his agreement with Mrs. Collins were outlined on paper. Every detail must be clear, concise and legally binding. Reese Jordan believed in contracts and he was about to affix his signature to the most important contract of his life. He glanced impatiently at the clock, then thumbed through the morning newspaper to the page announcing the train schedules. By now, she should be Faith Jordan and well on her way to Washington. But Reese refused to think about the marriage. It was a mere technicality. Just another way of guaranteeing the deal. He wasn’t going to acknowledge her as his wife. She would remain Faith Collins as far as he was concerned.

  He looked at the clock once again. Two more hours. Two more hours to wait. He began sorting of his mail, determined to complete the task without interruption.

  A cream-colored vellum envelope caught his eye. He studied the handwriting and the return address. Senator Darcy’s office. The senator was head of the Appropriations Committee and who was sponsoring several bills regulating the uses of the open range in the Wyoming Territory.

  Reese ripped open the envelope. How long had it been buried under the pile of paperwork on his desk? Damn, he thought, of all the times for this to happen. Inside the envelope was an invitation to a New Year’s Eve reception and dance at the senator’s residence. He glanced at the date on the invitation and then checked the desk calendar. Tonight. And Faith Collins was arriving in two hours.

  Reese paced between
the desk and the window for several minutes, thinking, planning, calculating. He smiled as he thought of a way to turn the situation to his advantage. The reception started at nine. That should give him adequate time to get her ready.

  He grabbed his hat and coat, pulled on his gloves, and hurried out of the suite.

  * * *

  The train whistled sounded shrilly, as the iron monster pulled into the Union Station.

  David Alexander rose from his seat, stretched his arms, and reached for the sleeping child lying across the laps of the two women in the seat across from him. “I’ll carry her,” he told them, “You, ladies, have held her for hours. You must be tired.”

  Tempy lifted Joy from across Faith’s lap and handed her to David. She was stiff and numb from the weight of Joy’s legs and she knew Faith was just as stiff. Joy’s head had rested across Faith’s arm and in her lap for the better part of the journey. “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.” Tempy was grateful for the relief.

  Faith nodded in agreement. “My limbs are numb,” she said, stretching her legs in front of her. She bit her lip against the painful tingling in her arm and legs.

  “Take your time, ladies. Reese is supposed to meet us. I’ll take Joy on out to the carriage and come back for you.” David made his way down the aisle, five-year-old, Joy Collins following sleepily behind him.

  Reese spotted David as soon as he exited the train. He jumped down from the carriage and hurried to meet him. “Where is she?”

  “Still on the train,” David told him. “I took Joy to give them a minute to stretch their legs in privacy. She’s been sleeping in their laps for over half the trip.” David smiled down at the little girl.

  “Ladies? How many did you bring with you?” Reese knew a moment of panic. Suppose the others couldn’t bear to be parted from Faith? What would he do with all those women in tow?

  “Just one of her aunts. Relax, Reese. We need someone to witness the agreement. And I thought Mrs. Collins would be more comfortable with one of her relatives. And one of her trusted aunts is less likely to talk to strangers about this scheme,” David explained.

  Reese sighed in relief and held his arms out to take the child. “Give her to me. I’ll hold her while you go back for the ladies.”