Why Not (A Valentine Matchmaker novella)

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Why Not (A Valentine Matchmaker novella) Page 8

by Debra E. Marvin


  Mrs. Bunch came by again. “I’d best be getting back.”

  “Thanks so much, ma’am. My head feels better already.”

  The twist of her mouth said she doubted it, and with her usual pace, hurried toward the front doors, leaving Amber and Stone alone in the foyer.

  “Take my arm, Stone. You’re going to your room and getting out of those damp clothes.”

  “Miss Wynott.”

  She hit his arm. “You’re not fooling me. I can see you’re in pain. It wasn’t an accident any more than the explosion was. I’m going to wire Uncle William.”

  “Please don’t.”

  She lowered her voice. “Were you robbed?”

  “No.”

  “Are you protecting the person who did it?”

  He stopped and grasped the railing. “No, but someone knew where I was and thought it was a good time to make a point.”

  She held his arm, forcing him to stay still. “Would you tell the sheriff, if you were sure?”

  “Yes. I can’t let this go on. Someone will get hurt.”

  “Someone’s already been hurt.” Amber’s hand went to her neck as she recalled the fear that he’d been injured or worse. “You must be more careful.” Maybe she should have told him about the note she’d received. Or maybe it would have brought more risk to both of them.

  “I admit I’m chilled to the bone.” He shivered with a hint of exaggeration, but his efforts didn’t hide his exhaustion.

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  He leaned closer. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m going to have the staff check in on you after your bath.”

  “Very well.”

  She kept a firm hold of his arm on the staircase. Propriety be damned. Once they reached the upper floor, his very genuine smile made her sigh.

  Stone squeezed her hand. “I’ll need your help tonight. I’ve got a few people to chat with, if they show up.”

  Had she heard right? “Surely you’re not attending this party tonight?”

  He removed a folded paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “I’m going back home tomorrow. The project is important to me, but it’s not as important as my family.”

  She recognized it as a telegram. “Your father?”

  “He’s alive. And I am too. In fact, I plan to dance with you tonight and sweep you off your feet.”

  “You can barely walk a straight line right now.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears.

  “But I came straight to you.”

  ~

  Stone examined his face in the mirror. He winced as the straight edge dragged across his stubbly jawline. He’d warmed up after his bath and felt almost normal after some sleep, but he had little time to waste in what was left of Saturday. Whoever had struck him was likely involved in the other incidents. He intended to find out.

  And there was the matter of wooing Amber Wynott. Too bad both bits of business needed a clear head.

  He’d had been sure Joe Bunch was involved in the explosion at the depot. Now that they’d spoken, he wasn’t so sure. Neither did Joe seem like the type to blindside a guy from behind a tree.

  Stone leaned over the wash basin and splashed cold water on his face.

  Had someone followed him? There were plenty fighting the government’s encroachment, but why take it out on him?

  He disliked parties, plain and simple, but he enjoy dancing. Back when his engagement ended, the mothers of St. Louis society resumed their parade of eligible daughters. He hadn’t been interested in anyone.

  Until now.

  He couldn’t let tomorrow be the last time he saw Amber.

  Ragtime piano music filtered up from below. It made his head hurt on a good day, so he’d have to slip the guy a dollar with a request for a waltz.

  Once outside the dining room, the number of guests surprised him. Mr. Eliot was going all out to include the locals despite their animosity—or maybe because of it. The railroad office in Phoenix had advertised an elegant overnight getaway for their more well-heeled constituents. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the evening, but there was only one face he sought. And there she was.

  Glancing away from a conversation, Amber’s face brightened.

  Who cared about a throbbing headache and sore jaw? Her dress was light and shimmery in the lamplight. The layers softly slipped around her hips as she moved.

  Mr. Eliot joined him. “Are you sure you’ve recovered enough to be here?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve warmed up completely, so this should help.” The room was full. “What did the groom say?”

  “The mare returned after you did. The groom assumed you’d taken her out to the building site, until she showed up with an empty saddle.”

  Stone exhaled. Thank God. “I’m relieved she didn’t get tangled in something.” He straightened his jacket. “Good turnout, tonight.”

  “Maybe after four years, it will finally improve our welcome.”

  Stone stuck his hands in his pockets and offered what he hoped was an encouraging word. “It’s not the hotel, or you, or the railroad. It’s all of it together.”

  “Should I be concerned tonight?”

  Mr. Eliot was wise to ask, and Stone wanted to say no. “I can’t imagine anyone will spoil the party.”

  “I’ve been told a Pinkerton will arrive tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for telling me, but I’m sorry it has come to this.”

  Amber was free now, glancing his way until a gentleman asked her to dance. She accepted.

  “I wouldn’t wait too long, Stone.”

  He followed Eliot’s gaze. “For what?”

  “If Miss Wynott hadn’t been taken in by your charms, I’d be over there and not leaving anyone else a chance.”

  “Taken in? I assure you I promised her nothing.”

  “Then you’d better fish or cut bait.”

  He laughed and felt better for it. “Point taken, but I’m waiting for something slower.’

  “Then I suggest you get punch for the lady and be ready to act the gentleman. A skull injury is hardly an excuse.”

  “Right. Thanks.” Punch, it is.

  Until he turned from the table with two child-sized glasses and faced a fair-haired beauty.

  “Excuse me,” she began. “Stone Morrison? From St. Louis?”

  He hated when this happened. “Yes?”

  “We met years ago. How is your father?”

  He motioned for her to follow him away from a loud conversation. “I’m not sure. I’ve been in Arizona for eight months.”

  She covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. You do know he’s been laid up?”

  “Yes, and I’ll be returning home soon because of it.”

  “My father is on the Federal Reserve, too.” She glanced at the cups in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you.” She’d noticed his repeated glances away, yet gave it a good effort, smiling cheerily. “What about lunch tomorrow?”

  “I’m leaving on the outbound.”

  “Then, breakfast?”

  How to politely decline? “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Charity Oglethorpe.”

  “Yes. Of course.” He remembered her now. Even remembered thinking she’d make a fine wife after a family dinner at her home. A banker’s wife. She might have thought the same. But it had been years ago.

  “I’m not in banking anymore.”

  “Oh I know. I admire that.”

  “Mr. Morrison?” He turned at the interruption.

  The desk clerk stood before him. “A telegram came for you last night, but I’m afraid you weren’t in your room.”

  Charity stared at the young man in surprise.

  “Not to worry. I wasn’t unavailable,” Stone reminded him.

  “Oh I know, and I’m glad to see you’ve recovered, sir.”

  Stone nodded. His hands were full.

  “Oh. Let me help.” Charity reached to relieve him of the cups.

  Ston
e exchanged a coin for the envelope. “Thank you.” Returning his attention to Miss Oglethorpe, he remembered to smile. “Forgive me.”

  “It’s nothing. I have these.” She raised the cups as evidence. “I’ll come with you.”

  His head ached when he saw the frown on Amber’s mouth. This wasn’t going well. He stepped out into the foyer and tore open the envelope.

  “I would appreciate a return home at your earliest convenience. Father needs to see you. Charles.”

  He folded the paper away in his inside breast pocket, with a mixture of relief and amusement at Charlie’s frugality.

  “Is it bad news?” Charity asked.

  “It’s not good, but...” She wasn’t going away, was she? “Thank you for taking these. I was just on my way to speak to a friend.”

  Her face clouded. “Oh. Of course. Let’s go back in.”

  He reclaimed the cups, ready to drain one right there. She followed him through the dining room with expectation. “Here I am all the way from St. Louis, and now you’re going back.”

  He paused, warned by the tightness in her tone.

  “The fact is I’d hoped to see you.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment; her eyes pleaded for a chance.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Oglethorpe.” He longed to be anywhere else but facing her. “Please enjoy the evening and the rest of your trip. Oh, and give my best to your brother.” That was all he could do at the moment, and as soon as he turned away, his eyes sought out Amber.

  Timing was everything.

  Would he have been interested in Charity if it wasn’t for the earlier arrival of the woman now dancing with Mr. Eliot? Stone had to give the man credit for trying, for he was no dancer, and, Stone hoped, no competitor for Amber’s affection. But the way she’d held his hand yesterday, and looked into his eyes had given him hope.

  He walked straight toward them, set the two glasses of punch on a table, and appreciated the increasing number of times she glanced his way. When the song ended, she followed Mr. Eliot off the dance floor. The fellow quickly downed one of the cups of punch.

  “Thank you. How thoughtful.” Mr. Eliot laughed at his own joke. “Now, I think I’ll go check on the musicians. I think it’s time for a waltz.”

  “Good idea,” Stone replied. And he’d have Amber to himself.

  She left no doubt of her concern. “How are you feeling?”

  “My head is ringing, but it’s hardly noticeable with this noise.” If only it were true.

  “What exactly am I supposed to do to help you?”

  Stone looked warily around him. “Look for guilty faces,” he whispered. “So far, the people I need to speak with aren’t here.”

  She didn’t play along, and worked her hands into a knot. “Perhaps it was a drifter.” But she didn’t wait for an answer. “Oh, this is awful. Mrs. Bunch has been so kind.”

  Really?

  Stone watched the dancers. “I believed Joe when he said he didn’t have anything to do with the explosion.” He stepped closer. “Amber, don’t let this spoil the evening.”

  But she was clearly worried. “I’ll speak to my uncle about it. The railroad needs to do more to reassure these good people.”

  “You believe that?”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “No, Amber, I don’t. You know what happens where there’s money to be made, and the government doesn’t have a perfect record. Ask the Indians. Even the forest service is distrusted here. Once the government set the canyon aside—and yes, of course it was to preserve it—they also became the controlling force. Even the county won’t yield to the railroad.”

  “But the miners will be compensated for their claims.”

  “Not all of them. Plus they’ll be asked to move.”

  “Why?”

  “It will all be government land one day, with services provided by the railroad and the Harveys. Do you think they’ve done all this work without expecting to control tourism dollars?” Stone realized he’d raised his voice to be heard over the music. What in heaven was he thinking?

  All the light in her eyes was gone.

  “We can’t fix it tonight, Amber. Dance with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He leaned close to her ear. “I’m very sure.”

  He offered his hand to join the dozen or so couples one-stepping around the open floor. Dancing could go a long way to make up for wasted time, but it wouldn’t win her heart if he failed to say what he was feeling. “I’ve never been much of a romantic.”

  One feminine brow reacted.

  “I’ll just say it. I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

  They moved easily across the room and she never once broke her gaze. “Are you sure this isn’t a result of that knock on the head?”

  “Amber. Something about you makes me long to do more, fix things.”

  “Not just buildings?”

  He brought her closer. “I saw something in myself I didn’t like.”

  “You certainly didn’t think I belonged at your worksite.”

  They bumped into another couple. “Excuse us,” then, “You noticed.”

  She was a little out of breath. “I wanted to work with Miss Colter…and follow her to her next design job. You laughed at me.”

  He had. Stone pulled her to a stop. “Oh, but you intrigued me,” he said, leading her to the side of the room.

  “You were just one of many to have their doubts. My family in particular, but I didn’t want to believe them.”

  “You did have something to prove.” He had to laugh. “And so did I. But I’m convinced I’m doing the work I should do, but I didn’t need to make it so difficult for everyone, including myself. Whatever you decide, I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “Which reminds me. Miss Colter has news with you.”

  He glanced back into the crowd. “I’ll find her. Later.” Amber was so lovely tonight. “But right now, the thought of leaving you is making my head ache.”

  Pity crossed her face, before she grinned. “It is bruised.” How he enjoyed the soft scent she wore in her hair, and the idea he’d see more of her in the future.

  As the song ended, everyone clapped. They’d all have a chance to catch their breaths because Mr. Bass began a slow ballad on his fiddle.

  About time.

  “A waltz, Miss Wynott?” Stone offered his hand in the correct position.

  How very easy to hold Amber in his arms—at a respectable distance, of course—and study her without censure. They were busy enjoying the moment when someone began to sing.

  Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me, Starlight and dewdrops are awaiting thee.”

  “It’s Mrs. Bunch,” Amber exclaimed. “Did you have any idea?”

  He did but it was a pleasant surprise to hear her tonight.

  Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day, led by the moonlight have all passed away.

  Around them, voices joined in. Mr. Hance played the chorus again as the room filled with song.

  The dance ended far too soon, but the musicians and Mrs. Bunch received an exuberant round of applause.

  Amber headed to the windows and peered out toward the canyon. From over her shoulder he watched their reflections in the glass.

  Then they both noticed movement along the rim as a lantern bobbed along.

  “Chilly night for a walk,” she told him.

  Whoever it was went out of view. “Amber?”

  “Yes?”

  He straightened and she did too, so close to him. “We’ve had so little time together.”

  She placed her hand on his lapel. “I’m listening.”

  “You know I’m traveling to St. Louis to see my father.” He struggled with his thoughts when all he wanted was to pull her out of this crowd and into his arms. “Don’t stay long. Your uncle was right. There’s too much going on here.”

  “There you are, Mr. Morrison.”

  Stone recognized that voice. “Miss Colter. I trust you had a pleasant time awa
y?”

  “Very. And you?”

  “Everything is done as you requested. I’ll be back on site tomorrow morning.”

  “But Stone,” interrupted Amber, yet she said no more.

  Miss Wynott became serious. “What happened, Stone?”

  This time Amber remained quiet and deferred to him.

  “I’m afraid my father’s had an unfortunate change of health, and I need to return home.”

  Miss Colter frowned. “I’m sorry to hear it. Of course you must go. When will you leave?”

  “Tomorrow if possible. My latest report is on the bench by the back door.”

  “Good. Then you don’t need to go out there in the morning.” Her voice softened. “I wish the best for your father.”

  “Thank you. I hope this isn’t an inconvenience.”

  She leveled a motherly stare. “Nonsense. You’ll have a lot of decisions to make and time-management is part of that.”

  “Then I’d like a dance with the boss after I take Miss Wynott outside for a private word.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to relax for the evening, now that you’ve been appointed stonework supervisor for the Fred Harvey Company.”

  The words took so long to sink in, he had none of his own.

  Miss Colter wasn’t finished. “I found it unusual that your father wrote to me when you first joined us. Despite his message, he was proud of you. I know you won’t disappoint us.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  While searching the crowd, she raised her brows. “Never mind. I see Mr. Eliot making his way here and he had no qualms in singing Miss Wynott’s praises. I suggest you make your exit.”

  Stone was already in motion. “Yes, ma’am.” He led Amber around tables and couples and the hotel servers. Having her hand in his made him invincible. Stonework Supervisor for Fred Harvey and Mary Colter. “Where’s your coat?”

  “Up in my room. Why?”

  He pulled off his suit jacket. “Here, put mine on.” Stone wrapped it around her shoulders. When another couple opened the door, a cold blast of air came in. “Okay, maybe we’re better off inside.”

  She smiled up at him. “Oh, Stone. That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.”

  “I expect she’ll find you a job with the company, also.”

  Something in her eyes said she wasn’t so sure. He lifted her chin. “Where’s that woman who was so determined to make her mark on the world? Starting with one stone mason covered with gray dust?”

 

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