Under other circumstances, Eugenia might have laughed at Mason Farling’s shock. His reaction to Aunt Louisa’s statement made it clear he was like most men and did not believe a woman could be a photographer. Papa had felt that way initially, and Chauncey still did.
Eugenia knew she shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet she was. For a moment when Mason had looked at the picture, she had thought he admired it. More than that, she had thought he understood why that scene had touched her so deeply. That had led her to believe they would work well together, but then he’d stared at her as if she were a creature from another planet.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Farling? Do you think that just because we wear skirts women are incapable of handling a camera?” Eugenia kept her tone mild in deference to Aunt Louisa and the fact that Eugenia would have to spend a great deal of time with this man. She needed to be civil, even if his attitude infuriated her.
For the second time in less than a minute, he appeared surprised. “That’s not at all what I thought, Miss Bell. I will admit I was shocked that you were the person who’d taken that extraordinary photograph, but it was not your gender that surprised me. It was your age.”
His blue eyes were serious as he continued. “I’ve had the opportunity to work with several photographers and have seen many others’ pictures, but never before have I met anyone your age with such skill. Normally it takes years—even decades—to develop such talent.”
While Eugenia blushed at the unexpected compliments that warmed her heart more than she’d thought possible, Aunt Louisa clapped softly. “Well said, young man. If you feel that way, you’ll probably be pleased to learn that my niece is the photographer Erastus chose for the depot book.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in days.” Mason’s lips curved into a smile as he fixed his gaze on Eugenia. “Your father made me an exceptionally generous offer to write the stories, but I never dreamt that my words would be paired with such beautiful pictures. This will be a book no one will forget.” His smile widened, and he took a step toward Eugenia. “I look forward to being your partner.”
When Mason extended his hand for the traditional shake that men who were partners would exchange, Eugenia placed her hand in his. The handshake was not what she had expected. Not at all. But then again, Mason Farling was not what she had expected. Instead of the boring, middle-aged man she had thought Papa had hired, Mason was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met, with hair as golden as the prairie grassin autumn, eyes as blue as the summer sky, features as finely formed as the sculptures she had seen in the museums she and Aunt Louisa had visited in New York and Philadelphia while Papa had been occupied with business.
But physical beauty was not the only thing that made Mason memorable. His touch was one Eugenia knew she would never forget. When their fingers and palms met, tingles raced along her arm, and her heart began to pound as if she had run up three flights of stairs. Never before had she felt like this, but never before had she met a man like Mason Farling.
Mason looked around as he entered the dining room. It was what he would have expected from a house this size. The table was large enough to seat two dozen, the china so delicate he was afraid his meat knife might break it, the water goblets fashioned of wafer-thin crystal. This was a far cry from the farmhouse where he had grown up or the boardinghouse where he’d eaten most of his meals for the four years he’d been in Denver.
Erastus Bell led the way toward the table and took his place at its head. Though Mason had thought either Eugenia or her aunt would have been positioned at the other end of the table, they were standing behind the chairs closest to Erastus.
“I’ve put you next to my sister,” Erastus told Mason. “Chauncey, you have your usual place at Eugenia’s side.” The moment he’d arrived and introduced himself to Mason, Mr. Bell had insisted that everyone be on a first-name basis.
After he’d seated Eugenia’s aunt, Mason pulled out his own chair. One good thing about this arrangement was that he would be able to watch Eugenia. Although, the truth was he wanted to do more than watch her. He wanted to touch her again, to see whether his memory of the way his heart had raced when he’d felt her palm against his was accurate. He hadn’t expected that any more than he’d expected her to be so young, so beautiful, so appealing. And he certainly hadn’t expected that she would be the photographer whose pictures would accompany his stories. That was the proverbial icing on the cake of an already intriguing assignment.
Mason glanced at the man seated across from him. He couldn’t say that he was impressed with Chauncey Keaton, though he’d felt an instant affinity with Erastus. Eugenia’s father was a large-boned man whose leathery skin, the product of years spent outdoors, seemed at odds with his finely cut suit. And yet Mason realized that Erastus’s appearance was probably typical of many cattle barons. While some merely invested their money, others were active participants in everything from branding to roundups. Chauncey Keaton, on the other hand, had the pale skin and perfectly shaped fingernails of a man with little acquaintance with manual labor, even though he also raised cattle.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived,” Erastus said to Mason after he’d blessed their food. “Unfortunately, I got tied up with several major UP supporters.”
Mason shook his head. “It wasn’t a problem. Your daughter and Miss Bell—sorry, Miss Louisa—” Despite Erastus’s decree, Mason could not address a woman her age without some sort of title. “The two ladies made me feel welcome. I also had an opportunity to see some of Eugenia’s photographs. You must be very proud of her.”
As he dipped his spoon into the thick soup the butler had placed before him, Erastus nodded. “I am, indeed. I believe that together you and she will create a book that willimpress everyone involved with the Union Pacific.”
“You always have good ideas, Erastus.”
Though Mason could not imagine why, Eugenia appeared surprised by Chauncey’s compliment.
Erastus nodded at Chauncey. “It’s kind of you to say so, my boy.” He directed his attention back to Mason. “I know I told you I wanted you to document the depot’s construction, but today’s meeting made me think we should expand the scope and feature the railroad’s primary supporters here in Cheyenne as well. What do you think?”
“I like the idea. It sends the message that the depot is more than a building. It’s part of the community. You might want to incorporate that concept into the title.”
Eugenia laid down her soupspoon as she asked, “Do you have a title in mind, Papa?”
He replied without hesitation. “The Magic City Depot.”
“That’s a great title.” Chauncey’s words were infused with enthusiasm, making Mason wonder if he ever disagreed with Eugenia’s father.
“What do you think of that title, Mason?” Eugenia asked.
Mason was glad he’d taken a bite of bread, because it gave him a chance to collect his thoughts. He didn’t want to offend his patron, but he also would not lie. “This is my first experience with a book,” he reminded Erastus. “I’m not sure how or when authors choose their titles. I suspect it might be similar to creating a headline for an article.”
When Erastus nodded, as if he were truly interested in Mason’s opinion, Mason continued. “I usually wait until I’ve finished writing the article to compose the headline. Even though I know all the facts before I start writing, sometimes my slant changes.”
Eugenia gave him what appeared to be a grateful look. “That makes sense, doesn’t it, Papa, especially since we don’t yet know everything that will be included in the story?”
Her father chuckled. “All right, my dear. I can see you didn’t like my idea.”
“I never said that, did I, Mason?” Eugenia accompanied her question with a wink.
As solemnly as he could, Mason said, “I don’t believe you did.”
Erastus’s chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh. “It looks to me like I made the right choice. I can tell you two are going to work well together.”
The conversation became casual for the rest of the meal, with Chauncey telling an amusing story about how he had met the Bells’ neighbor and fellow cattle baron Barrett Landry at the emporium and how Barrett had found choosing the perfect gift for a lady just as difficult as Chauncey had. When he’d concluded the story, the way Chauncey looked at Eugenia left no doubt that she was the recipient of the gift. The man was staking his claim and wanted Mason to know it.
After dinner, as Erastus led the way to the smoking room, saying Eugenia and his sister would join them in the parlor in half an hour, Chauncey slowed his pace and turned toward Mason.
“I don’t know how much Erastus has told you about Eugenia.”
Though he suspected he knew where this conversation was headed, Mason decided to play along. “He said nothing other than that she’s his daughter. It was Miss Louisa who told me Eugenia would be the photographer on the project.”
“She’s a lovely woman.”
That was an understatement. Eugenia was more than lovely. She was spectacularly beautiful. Mason nodded and said only, “Yes, she is.”
Chauncey straightened his shoulders as if to increase his height. “I don’t want you to get any wrong ideas about her. Erastus has agreed that she will be my bride.”
Mason parsed the other man’s words, noticing that he hadn’t said Eugenia had agreed. From her father’s view, the match made sense. Erastus would have the comfort of knowing that his ranch would eventually be transferred to another cattleman. That was logical, but it felt wrong to Mason. Marriage wasn’t a business merger. It involved—or it should—love and attraction. The problem was he hadn’t seen any sparks between Eugenia and Chauncey. When Chauncey looked at her, his expression was that of a man admiring an expensive possession. As for Eugenia—Mason could be mistaken, but it had seemed as if she avoided looking at Chauncey.
That was not what Mason would have expected from a betrothed couple, and yet what did he know? It was not as if he had any experience with love, not as if he had anything to offer Eugenia.
Mason forced his lips into a tight smile. “It seems congratulations are in order. Congratulations, Chauncey.” Now, if only he meant it.