“We have no money, Sis. Father spent it all.”
Laurie sat at her brother’s bedside, stunned. After giving her the bad news, Hugh turned his head to the wall. For a time, she remained silent, struggling to comprehend the devastating effect this awful news would have on the family. “Completely gone? But surely there must be—”
“There’s nothing left.” Hugh turned his head back and looked at her with anguished eyes. “I didn’t want to tell you before. Couldn’t face it. What Father did was terrible. The worst of it was I could do nothing to stop him.”
“What did he do?” She braced herself. She couldn’t imagine, but it must be something really bad.
“When Father first came out here, he did well. Found gold, started the Monarch. When he sent for the family, I came willingly. Everything went smoothly at first. I met Maude and married her. Father made me his assistant at the mine. I learned a lot, Laurie. It was all good, me working with him. I was happy. Maude was happy. I proved myself to be invaluable and was proud of my success. We were turning a huge profit, giving the family the kind of life they deserved, and I was part of it. Even when Maude died, I had no regrets. Dying in childbirth like she did—it could just as easily have happened in Philadelphia as here.”
Laurie nodded in sympathetic agreement. “I’ve never once heard you complain about leaving your fine life in Philadelphia behind.”
“Exactly. Grief-stricken though I was, I carried on, and it wasn’t until I discovered the books had been doctored that I knew something was wrong.”
She’d thought she was prepared for anything, but nothing like this. “What do you mean?”
“I thought the mine was doing fine, but then I discovered the truth. Unbeknownst to me, Father was having financial difficulties. When I tell you why, you won’t believe it. You’ll think I’m out of my mind, but I know it’s true.”
“Just tell me.”
“Father had started to gamble. You know how it is in this town. You can’t walk ten feet on Mein Street without passing a gambling saloon. I guess he got so tempted he couldn’t resist. Many’s the time when he claimed he had to work late, he was in some saloon on Mein Street playing faro or sometimes vingt-et-un. The Gold Strike was his favorite saloon. He never told me any of this, but I worked with him every day and would have been a fool not to know. What I didn’t realize was his gambling had gotten out of hand. That’s when he started draining the company accounts and doctoring the books. I figure he was desperate when he borrowed all that money from Brock Dominick. By then, he was counting on finding that new vein of gold, but now we know that didn’t happen.”
Father a gambler? “I find this hard to believe.”
“You think I’m lying?”
“Of course not. But that’s not our father. You must be mistaken. He would never—”
“It was Sam Sinclair, and that’s not all.”
“Good lord!” She’d lifted her voice, something she never did. The nurse on the other side of the room raised her head and gave her a cold stare. Barely above a whisper, she continued. “There’s more?”
“Yes, there’s more. I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got to know. You’ve heard of Mrs. Lucille Wagner, the widow who owns the Gold Spike?”
Silently she nodded. Somehow, she knew this was going to get worse.
“Father was seeing her. They were… I guess you could say they were carrying on.”
By now, her mind had gone so numb she accepted this last revelation without protest. “So, what you’re saying is our father gambled all the family’s money away as well as cheated on our mother.”
“That’s what I’m saying, and it’s true, Laurie. Do you think I’d lie about something like this?”
“It’s like you’re talking about a different man, not the wonderful man I knew all my life.”
“At this point does it matter what you believe? Our family is completely broke. The money’s gone. The Monarch’s gone. So, there you have it. Believe it or don’t believe it, what does it matter?”
In a fog, she asked, “But what are we going to do?”
“Damned if I know. Maybe when I’m well enough, Brock Dominick will give me a job.” He moved slightly and winced from the pain of his broken ribs. “If I ever get well. I can’t help the family now, Laurie. You’re on your own.”
* * * *
Looking back, Laurie realized how foolish she’d been to expect a visit to her brother would miraculously solve their problems. What a fantasy to believe that somehow, he’d produce the money to pay off the loan, or, better still, assure her Dominick was lying and Father had never signed such a note in the first place. Hugh had shocked her almost beyond belief. How could those terrible things he’d said about Father be true? But why would he lie? He’d told lies when he was younger, and done mean things, but that was the old Hugh. Over the years, he’d changed into the man Father always hoped he’d be. Right now, he needed to rest and recuperate, and she wouldn’t burden him further. The responsibility for helping the family belonged to her now, and she’d do the best she could.
Arriving home, she decided to wait to break the bad news until after the children had been fed and put to bed. Small though they were, they would know something had gone horribly wrong, just from the sound of the adults’ voices. Now, the children gone, sitting at the dinner table with Mother and Ada, she broke the bad news as gently as she could.
“As you know, I spoke to Hugh today. He says we’re totally broke. We can’t pay the loan to Mr. Dominick because we don’t have the money.” That wasn’t all Hugh told her, but her mother and sister didn’t need to know the rest, and she hoped to God they’d never find out.
Mother had recovered at least enough to come downstairs to dinner, but her hands trembled slightly, and her shoulders slumped as if all hope was gone. “We have no money? I cannot believe Sam would do such a thing,” she near-whispered, shaking her head in despair. “What do you think, Laurie? Was Mr. Dominick trying to trick us?”
“I don’t want to believe it, but what else can we think? Brock Dominick’s a despicable man, but why would he lie? And besides, he offered to show us the paperwork. We’d recognize Father’s signature.” She wished she could sound more hopeful, but what else could she say?
Her face pale, eyes red from crying, Ada appeared to be nearly as bad off as Mother. She looked at her sister with pleading eyes. “What will we do, Laurie? What about the children? Are we going to starve to death?”
Laurie had no idea what they were going to do. The trouble was, of the three of them, she appeared to be the only one who hadn’t fallen apart. Someone had to hold this family together—give them some sort of hope—and apparently it would have to be her. “Well, let’s see now…” Her mind raced. She must find something positive to say. “We still own the house. We could sell it and go back to Philadelphia.”
“No.” Mother spoke with an intensity that didn’t invite argument. “I could never go back like this. How could I face my friends knowing I’m a charity case?”
Ada spoke up. “She’s right, Laurie. Go back now? I’d die of humiliation.”
“But Aunt Florence would take you in, wouldn’t she?” Laurie was baffled. “She’s always been wonderful to me, and I’m sure—”
“Absolutely no.” Mother clenched her jaw with determination. “I love my sister. It’s fine that she invited you to live with her, but hadn’t you noticed how bossy she is? How she likes to run everything? Believe you me, if I allowed her to support me, I’d be living at her beck and call, and frankly, I’d rather die first.”
At least Mother had roused herself out of her deep grief and shown a spark of her usual self. Laurie smiled and remarked, “Then I guess we can forget Aunt Florence.”
“I think you better had.”
Laurie racked her brain for ideas. Unsure and desperate, she plunged ahead. “I haven’t been in Lucky Creek long, but I see there are things we could do here we could never do back east. Maybe we could start a business of some sort. Take laundry, for instance. There’s always a need for that. In fact, I heard in some cases the miners are sending their dirty clothes clear to places like China to get it done. I’d venture to say we could make a tidy profit with a laundry.”
“Are you out of your mind?” normally timid Ada exclaimed. “You want us to scrub clothes and iron them and…and…” She fell back in her chair, apparently so overwhelmed she couldn’t continue.
Mother bit her lip in bewilderment. “I just don’t know…all that scrubbing? How could we dry things in the wintertime? We’d need a lot of clothesline…and soap? Wouldn’t we need a lot of soap?”
“All right, forget that idea. I didn’t think it through.” How foolish to believe that after lifetimes of privilege, her mother and sister could bring themselves to perform manual labor. Not that they were spoiled, it wasn’t that. Mother wasn’t coping well and seemed confused. Small, delicate Ada could never handle so much as a day of hard labor, and Laurie wouldn’t want her to. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”
Something, but what? Absolutely nothing came to mind, but she mustn’t give up. A heavy weight pressed against her chest. If they didn’t have any money what would happen to Mathew and Maryanne? Those two adorable children shouldn’t want for anything. What would happen to Hugh, Mother, and Ada? Not a one able to fend for themselves, at least for the moment. That leaves me. Hard to believe that she, Laurie Sinclair, former devotee of parties and the social life, had suddenly become the only hope this family had to save them from poverty and worse.
* * * *
The weight still pressed against her chest when she woke up the next morning. If she’d thought some brilliant idea would strike her during the night, she’d been sadly mistaken. But at least she had errands to run today. They’d keep her busy and her mind occupied. Getting dressed, she decided not to wear the borrowed black dress again. In Philadelphia she’d have worn mourning for at least six months. In their house on Society Hill, all curtains and blinds would have been drawn tightly, and a black wreath placed on the door. Not in Lucky Creek, though, where everyone came from somewhere else and nobody cared about old traditions. She chose her full-skirted dark blue bombazine with the high collar. Along with white gloves and her plain grey bonnet, she’d look mournful enough. That is, if anyone in this rough-and-ready town cared, or even noticed.
She’d written a letter to Brandon, telling him the tragic news, and how, because of it, her return had been delayed. Not for long, though, she promised, and again mentioned her eagerness to rejoin him. She hated how slow the mail was. Probably by the time his answer reached Lucky Creek, she’d be on her way back.
Early in the afternoon, she walked into town, to Mein Street, and mailed her letter. She dreaded her next errand, but it had to be done. Over her arm, she carried Darcy McKenna’s jacket, the one he’d lent her the night of the explosion. Until now, she hadn’t had a chance to return it but was anxious to do so. He lived at the Gold Spike, the very same hotel where Hugh said her father… No. She would not allow herself to think about the awful things Hugh had told her. Too hurtful. Too dreadful. She would drop off the jacket at the front desk. At this time of day, he’d be up at his mine, which was fine with her. This way, she would avoid another encounter with the irritating mine owner.
A sprawling wooden structure three stories high, the Gold Spike Hotel covered over half a block on Mein Street. Walking along the wooden boardwalk in front, Laurie approached the swinging doors, wishing she could close her ears to the tinny piano music blasting from within. Like all respectable ladies of the town, she picked up her pace as she passed, hoping to avoid the occasional drunk staggering out. God forbid she should encounter one of the saloon’s painted ladies.
“Miss Sinclair? Is that you?”
She allowed herself a muttered “Dammit!” and turned around. There stood Darcy McKenna, sweeping his hat off as a gentleman should, and regarding her quizzically. Today a leather-tooled gun belt rested at a jaunty angle around his slim hips. The handle of what looked a very large pistol jutted from the holster.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “Planning on visiting the saloon?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. McKenna.” She flicked a glance at his pistol and couldn’t resist. “Planning on shooting someone?”
He broke into hearty laughter. It was the first time she’d ever seen him laugh like that. “Not today, I hope.”
“I didn’t think you’d be in town this time of day.’
He jerked his head toward the nearby Wells-Fargo Bank. “Getting money from the bank. That’s what the gun’s for.” He noticed the jacket she was carrying. “Is that mine?”
She held it out to him. “Yes, I was returning it. You were most kind. Good day, Mr. McKenna.” That was polite enough and all she need say. In her current mood, she didn’t care to talk to anyone. She started to turn away.
“You don’t have to rush off.” His gaze raked over her. “Is everything all right? You look… Is everything all right aside from the obvious?”
“The obvious being I just lost my father and my brother’s lying in the hospital with six of his ribs and an arm broken. Isn’t that enough?”
“More than enough.”
Maybe it was because he was being nice, and his eyes had filled with sympathy, but whatever the reason, the words slipped out before she could stop them. “There’s something more.”
He immediately asked, “Were you on your way home?” She nodded. “Walking?” She nodded again. “Then come with me. I’ll drive you home in the wagon, and you can tell me about ‘something more.’” He got that amused look in his eye again and jerked his head toward the saloon. “Or I could buy you a beer if you like. Give the boys a thrill. They don’t often see a lady like you in the Gold Spike Saloon.”
Was he sincere or being sarcastic? It didn’t matter. He’d made her smile, and she didn’t feel like being standoffish. “I’ll take that beer some other time, if you don’t mind. If you could just drive me home, I’d appreciate it.”
Before she knew it, she was sitting next to Darcy McKenna in his big wagon with ATLAS MINES painted on the side. He gave her a questioning glance as he flicked the reins and the two horses took off at a fast pace up Mein Street. “So what else is wrong?”
Gloved hands properly folded in her lap, she sat silent a moment. She didn’t want him to think she was complaining or, even worse, asking for help. “If I tell you, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only telling you because you asked, and because you’re a mine owner, and I’d appreciate your knowledge of the subject.”
“Of course.”
“We’re a proud family. We solve our own problems.”
“Of course.”
As they rolled along the muddy, not-so-beautiful streets of Lucky Creek, she proceeded to tell him about Brock Dominick’s visit of the night before. “Needless to say, we were totally shocked. Father never said a word about such a loan. I admit I was skeptical, but when I talked to Hugh, he said we owe the money.” She stopped herself from adding they hadn’t the means to repay the loan. None of his business, and besides, she had too much pride and too much loyalty to Father to admit he’d left his family penniless.
They reached the house, and Darcy pulled the wagon to a stop in front. He dropped the reins and turned to her. “So, what will you do?”
“We have two more days to decide. I’m not sure yet, but we’ll probably let Mr. Dominick take the Monarch. I guess it wasn’t paying off anyway, so no great loss. Beyond that, we might stay, or we might return to Philadelphia. Personally, I’ll be returning soon as I can.”
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise since you hate Lucky Creek.”
“Doesn’t everyone? You don’t actually like it here, do you?”
“You’ll find this hard to believe, but I do like it here. Sure, there’s too many saloons, muddy streets, and nothing close to what you would call culture, but I wouldn’t return east if my life depended on it.”
The fervor in his voice surprised her. “I suppose I can understand. After all, you own a successful mine, but think of the thousands of others who’ve failed to find gold. They’ve wasted their time and money and can’t get home fast enough.”
“Perhaps, but there are thousands of others who would never go back. Think about it. California offers opportunities these men would never have if they’d stayed home. They won’t find gold. That’s over. But here a man can be as independent as he likes, not like back east where the status of a man’s family, the class he’s in, determines his success.” Finished, Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I made a speech, didn’t I? Need help getting down?”
“I can manage.” Feeling his gaze upon her, she climbed from the wagon concentrating on looking as graceful as she could. She turned and looked up at him. “Thank you for the ride and for listening to me.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for returning the jacket. And sorry about Dominick. He’s a scoundrel if ever there was one. Anything I can help you with, let me know.”
As he drove away, she looked after him. He’d surprised her with his insight concerning the advantages of living in the West. Up to now, she’d thought of him as just another mine owner who never thought beyond the daily yield of high-grade ore and the current price of an ounce of gold. Plainly he was more than that and more of a deep thinker than she’d thought. He’d been polite, too, and thoughtful. A harmless man, doing his best to be kind and courteous.
But wait. Something about him—maybe it was those sharp blue eyes—told her he wasn’t so harmless.
And he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.
Not that she intended to trifle with Darcy McKenna. Why would she do such a thing when Brandon Cooper awaited her with open arms? A sudden fear stabbed at her heart. How long would he wait? All the ladies loved Brandon. His wealth and dashing good looks made him a most desirable catch.
She must get back to Philadelphia, soon as she possibly could.