It was over. Darcy looked on in disgust as the spectators drifted from the site of the hanging, their cries for blood and vengeance satisfied. The crowd had suddenly turned quiet, almost subdued. Maybe the sight of a woman’s body swaying in the breeze had caused those with the least semblance of compassion to realize the awful thing they’d done. His stomach turned every time he thought of it. He’d seen a lot of bad things in his life, but the hanging of Valeria Gomez rivaled his worst mEmery, the scalping of Ned Grimes. He would carry forever the haunting visions of both. Laurie had held together a lot better than he thought she would, but now, as he guided her through the thinning crowd, he noted how pale she’d become. “I’m taking you home.”
“Yes, home. I’ve got to—” Her voice broke.
“Are you all right? We could go back to the hotel.”
“I’ve got to get home, tell the family.” She pulled her shoulders back as if bracing herself for the grim task ahead. “They loved Valeria. I can only imagine how devastated they’ll be.”
They reached the stable behind the hotel where he hitched up his carriage. They hardly spoke as he drove her home. What could be said? After the gruesome scene they’d witnessed, words seemed meaningless. When they reached her house, he asked, “Do you want me to come in?”
“It’s best I tell them alone.” She quickly climbed from the carriage and looked back up at him, eyes full of pain. “It all seems so unreal. Last night. This morning and Valeria.”
He knew what she meant and felt the same. Nothing he could put into words, though. “You’ll be wanting some time off from the mine.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll be there tomorrow.” She started to turn away, caught herself and turned back. “Goodbye and thank you for everything.”
What exactly did she mean by “everything”? He watched after her as she walked to her front door and disappeared inside. He must sort things out, try to figure what was going on in his head because right now he wasn’t sure he knew. This wasn’t like him. He hadn’t become the man he was by acting like some kind of dithering idiot. Things were different when he was younger. His early years had been a nightmare he’d barely survived. He’d gone through so much turmoil he hardly knew who he was or where he was going. But all that was behind him now. Since those priceless years he’d spent with Ned, he’d become the man he wanted to be: honorable, tolerant of others, quick to make decisions, and always sure of himself, and what he wanted. But was that enough? Up to now, all he wanted was sufficient money to make himself comfortable, the satisfaction of a job well done, an unlimited view of the sky, and the comforting arms of Lucille Wagner awaiting him whenever he chose. So, what more could he ask for? Although, to be honest, the thing with Lucille wasn’t working out. He’d never wanted to hurt her, but maybe he was, and he’d have to do something about that.
He hadn’t asked for a woman like Laurie Sinclair to come into his life. Up to now, he’d done very well without her. But now…? He got a twist in his gut just thinking about last night. He’d been with a few women in his life, gotten his satisfaction, and been on his way. Some he’d liked more than others. Some he’d developed a real affection for, but never had he felt like he did with Laurie Sinclair, and it was hard figuring out why. He’d never made love but what he didn’t want to satisfy himself. But last night? All he’d wanted was to please her, not himself, and let her know he cared. Not that he’d said the words. It was all in the caring way he’d made love to her, and what a pleasure it had been, holding her beautiful body in his arms. For once in his life, he’d put himself second, although in the end he’d enjoyed their lovemaking as much as she.
What irony. The man with the so-called heart of stone had met his match. Laurie Sinclair—vain, spoiled, couldn’t harness a horse, but now? How could he get through the day without thinking of her—wanting her—again and again, seeing her as she lay naked in his bed.
But why bother? Laurie didn’t belong to him and never would. She belonged to Brandon Cooper, a man he heartily disliked even though he’d never met him.
* * * *
When Laurie walked into the house, she wasn’t sure what her reception would be. She’d almost forgotten how she’d rushed out of the house to help Valeria—was it only yesterday?—defying her mother, disregarding her brother’s advice. It all seemed unimportant now. Perhaps they hadn’t heard about the hanging yet, although bad news traveled fast. If they had heard, they’d be devastated. Laurie could only hope they wouldn’t be too upset.
She reached the parlor and immediately knew from the somber look on Mother’s and Ada’s faces they’d heard. “You’re safe.” Ada leaped from her chair and gave her a hug. “We were worried about you.”
Before Laurie could answer, Mother declared, “If you were in that awful lynch mob, I don’t want to hear it. Where were you last night? Why didn’t you come home?”
If they only knew. Laurie wouldn’t lie, but with some careful maneuvering she could avoid the entire truth. “I stayed at the Gold Spike Hotel.” Mother gave her a searching look but didn’t say anything. Best to get off that subject as soon as possible. “I was there. I saw the hanging. It was horrible, but I want you to know Valeria stayed brave to the end.”
Tears glistened in Ada’s eyes. “That’s so terrible. I can’t even imagine what she went through.”
Mother remained dry-eyed. “Valeria should never have taken up with that awful man, that Emery what’s-his-name. When I saw those bruises on her face, I warned her, but would she listen? Now look what’s happened. Here we are without a cook, and I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
For a moment Laurie could only stare. Words failed her until the injustice of it all overcame her, and she burst out, “Don’t you care? Valeria was the most generous, kind, thoughtful person I knew. She just died a horrible death, and all you’re worried about is you don’t have a cook?”
Mother not only remained unmoved, she rolled her eyes as if asking for patience. “There’s no need to get upset. Of course, I’m sorry for what happened to Valeria. It’s just that we have to be practical. Am I supposed to cook now, along with everything else?”
Laurie opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. What could she say? Mother would never understand, and she’d just be wasting her breath.
Soon after, she went upstairs to talk to her brother and found him sitting up in bed. “You heard about Valeria?”
Hugh shook his head with regret. “She was a great cook. I’ll especially miss that feijoada she used to make.”
“She was a wonderful woman. It’s terrible what happened. You’ve no idea how awful—”
“We all know what happened.” Hugh’s voice held a note of admonition. “Don’t tell me you were part of that mob. How dumb can you get, Sis? You could have been killed.”
The family had surprised her many a time, and this was but another example. Only Ada understood. Hugh was simply being Hugh, and she shouldn’t expect he’d suddenly developed a big heart. And how could she blame Mother, who’d been brought up in a world where compassion didn’t extend to those she considered beneath her. Maybe I was that way once, Laurie thought, but not anymore. If there was one thing living in Lucky Creek had taught her, it was that people didn’t always react like she expected them to. Hard to understand sometimes, but she’d try.
She went downstairs and talked to her mother again. “I know how you feel. Maybe we can hire Mei Ling back. She wasn’t a bad cook. I’ll look into it.”
“Please do.” Mother clamped her jaw, a sure sign of anger. “We must get out of here. I’ve had enough of this awful place. I want to go back to Philadelphia, where the streets aren’t muddy, and lynch mobs don’t go running around hanging people.”
Under ordinary circumstances, Laurie might have found her mother’s illogical reply amusing, but today nothing was funny. “They’re well underway with digging the new shaft at the Monarch. Mr. McKenna is quite optimistic. It won’t be much longer before the money starts rolling in.”
“Well, it won’t be too soon for me.”
Laurie started to add a “me too,” then thought better of it. Of course, she wanted to return to Philadelphia, but the prospect didn’t seem quite as thrilling as it had before. Why? What was the matter with her? Brandon awaited. Enlightened civilization awaited. Paved streets—the latest fashions—high-class friends who knew which fork to use. And yet… Was this muddy little mining town really so bad? Philadelphia had no snowcapped mountains, no breathtaking waterfalls, no crisp, clean pine-scented air. And after last night? Of course, she still loved Brandon, but how could she leave Darcy McKenna when last night had been so…so…
“I’d appreciate it if you could bring Mei Ling back.” Mother’s mood had improved, and she was smiling. “She’s a tiny little thing, but she’s a hard worker. She’ll make life easier for the short time we’ll still be here. You look tired, dear. Perhaps you’d better go lie down for a while.”
Oh, God, maybe she better had. How could she be sure of anything anymore? She’d been prepared for a deluge of shock and grief from her family over the loss of their beloved cook, but that hadn’t happened. Now she was the shocked one. She’d been wrong to expect they’d want to hear every little detail concerning Valeria’s death. Only Ada cared. Hugh’s main concern seemed to be how much he’d miss the feijoada. Mother’s main concern was that they find another cook. As for Darcy… She wouldn’t think about him now. Tomorrow would be soon enough to get her thoughts straight. Right now, she welcomed the excuse to escape. “I believe I need a nap.”
She hurried to her room, and had just laid down, when Ada knocked and entered, her desolate expression an indication of how much she cared. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Laurie, were you there? Did you see it when they hung her? It’s all so awful I can hardly bear to think about it.”
“I saw it all, and I’ll never forget it.” Laurie sat up, plumped a pillow behind her, and proceeded to describe the unbelievable ugliness of the crowd, Valeria’s incredible courage, all of it except for the actual hanging. Some things were best unsaid, let alone, and best forgotten. When she finished, they both wept for the woman who had died so bravely with such dignity. They reminisced about her excellent cooking, her kindnesses, her funny sense of humor.
Not until later did Ada casually mention, “Of course you know it was Kenvern who brought us the message that you weren’t coming home.”
“Of course.” Why was Ada bringing this up?
“I invited him in. He stayed for a while. I fixed him some tea, and we drank it in the kitchen. We talked a lot.”
Ada entertaining a male guest? Fixing him tea? How astounding. “It was kind of him to bring the message.”
“I find him to be a very nice man.”
Aha! So that was it. Ada in love? Laurie had thought she’d never see the day.
“Of course, he’s not suitable,” her sister went on.
“Really? Who says he’s not suitable?”
“Kenvern doesn’t speak correctly and doesn’t know his manners. Not that I care one single bit, but you know Mother. After he left, she referred to him as ‘that ignorant Cornishman.’”
Laurie couldn’t argue. A miner from the back country of Cornwall would never in a million years gain Mother’s approval. “I’m afraid you’re right, Ada. Wait till we get back to Philadelphia. As you know, it’s full of handsome young bachelors. Maybe this time you’ll find one you like.”
Ada sighed and didn’t answer. Laurie didn’t pursue the subject. After her turbulent relationship with Brandon, she was hardly the one to give advice about love. Now even more so after her night with Darcy McKenna.
* * * *
The next day, Laurie got up early. After fixing her own breakfast, she hitched the horses to the curricle without the least difficulty and drove to the home of Mei Ling. Their former maid would be happy to return. “You want me today?” she asked.
Laurie gave her an enthusiastic yes and headed for the mine. At least one problem solved. Mei Ling’s cooking skills couldn’t match Valeria’s, but Mother should be pleased, nonetheless.
After their night together, Laurie wondered if she’d feel awkward seeing Darcy again, but she needn’t have worried. When she entered the office, he gave her a friendly but casual “Good morning,” no different than he’d give anybody else. She went to her desk immediately and got to work. Darcy, Tom by his side, was hiring more miners today, and there was plenty to do. He, too, stayed busy all day, and they hardly spoke. Even so, not for a moment was she unaware of his presence. She could hardly keep her eyes off him. Everything about him held her captivated, from his tall, lean body, to the hard angles of his face, to every graceful move he made, so very sure of himself and in control. As if that weren’t enough, she couldn’t keep her mind off what he’d looked like when they lay in bed and had just finished making love. His hard-muscled chest glistening with sweat—that line of silky dark hair running from his chest, over his stomach, to where it disappeared below. Just the thought of it made her blush. This had to stop. She loved Brandon Cooper. Back in Philadelphia, despite the eagle-eyed chaperones, they’d been intimate more than once, but it hadn’t been all that exciting, and she’d never thought of him with lust in her heart, not like she kept thinking of Darcy. And the worst of it was, that night with Darcy had been something so special that she didn’t feel the least bit ashamed. It had all seemed so natural, as if this was the way it was supposed to be.
Only once during the day had something other than Darcy captured her complete attention. Again, she noticed the ledgers didn’t look right. The records Hugh kept simply didn’t match the figures Father had entered in his ledger. Of course, she was at fault for not understanding. She would ask Hugh to explain the discrepancy when she got home.
At the end of the shift, she stood at the entrance to the mine, time ledger in hand, quite sure of herself now, and pleased she knew what she was doing. Like always, the miners filed out in high spirits, happy their shift had ended. Each day, they were digging the shaft deeper, following the newly found vein. After that first astounding find, the vein had provided barely enough rich ore to keep them going, but both Darcy and Tom remained optimistic. It was just a matter of time before they’d hit pay dirt again. After she’d recorded their hours, and the last man had filed by, she noticed Kenvern Trenowden had remained behind. “Can I help you, Kenvern?”
The Cornishman stood twisting his cap in his hands. “Yes, Miss Sinclair. I…uh…”
The poor man. She already had a good idea what he was going to say, and she’d better help him out. “I certainly appreciate your taking my message to my family the other night. It was such a terrible night, as you know, and I really appreciate it.”
Kenvern smiled and stopped twisting his cap. “I was happy to do it.”
She would help him out even further. “My sister especially appreciated it. I hear she served you tea and enjoyed your conversation.”
To her surprise, Kenvern’s face fell. “I don’t see how she could have when I know I don’t talk right.”
She quickly sought something kind to say. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you talk. Of course, one can easily tell you’re from Cornwall, but I find your manner of speaking rather charming.”
Kenvern thrust out his jaw. “I don’t want to sound charming. I want to learn proper English.”
Before she could think of an answer, he spoke again. “I really want to learn, Miss Sinclair. Could you maybe tell me how I can? You see”—he was struggling for words—“I like your sister, but the way your mother be looking at me, she wouldn’t want me cleaning out her stable, let alone courting her daughter. Not placing any blame, mind you. I know me place.”
So Ada had a suitor? Laurie loved the idea, but Kenvern was right. Mother had already expressed her displeasure over “that ignorant Cornishman.” Before Laurie could find an answer that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, he blushed, uttered a quick, “Sorry I troubled you,” and hurried away.
Tom and Darcy were still in the office when she returned. After she checked the time sheets and was about to leave, Darcy inquired, “How did things go today?”
“Just fine,” she replied with the kind of detachment she’d use on a mere acquaintance. He was only being polite, but because Kenvern Trenowden was very much on her mind, she added, “It appears one of your Cornish miners has an interest in my sister.”
Darcy smiled. “I’d wager you mean Kenvern Trenowden. He’s asked me about her. Think she’s interested?”
Not wanting to give any of her sister’s confidences away, Laurie formed a careful answer. “Possibly she might be, and that would be fine if we were planning on staying in Lucky Creek. Manners and morals don’t count here. The problem is, even if Ada was interested, Mother would never approve. She desperately wants to return to Philadelphia and so does my sister. Unfortunately, Kenvern would never be accepted there. For one thing, he doesn’t speak proper English. He’d be out of his depth and considered totally unsuitable for a refined young lady like Ada.”
Darcy’s dark brows lifted with irritation. “You’re right, this isn’t Philadelphia, where the streets are paved, and you won’t find a crazed mob ready to lynch some innocent victim. But I’ll tell you one thing that your fine Philadelphia doesn’t have, and that’s equality.”
“I don’t quite grasp your meaning.” Actually, she hadn’t the faintest notion what he was talking about.
“What I mean is, in Lucky Creek—all the West—a man is judged by the work he does, not by how prominent his family is, or how he talks, or how much money he has. I’ve seen miners who were lawyers, merchants, college professors, all grades, shades, and classes when they lived back east. Out here what they did before doesn’t mean a damn thing.” Darcy spoke with an unusual spark of passion in his eyes. “The best thing I ever did was head west.”
Harry Peske, Darcy’s top employee at the Atlas, happened to be in the office and had overheard. “He’s right, Miss Sinclair. You’d never guess by looking, but back in Boston I worked as a lowly clerk in an attorney’s office. Twelve hours a day, I sat on a high stool copying documents. Same thing—over and over again—the most boring job in the world. No chance of promotion. I had no future, other than to work till I died. Now look at me. I’m a supervisor at the Atlas, by God. I don’t have to stay if I don’t want. There’s opportunities everywhere, and I’ll tell you something. There’s not enough money in the world that could bring me back to Boston, or Philadelphia, or any place east of the Mississippi. Maybe Lucky Creek isn’t perfect, but a man has a chance here to do what he wants.”
Harry Peske’s fervent words left her momentarily speechless and searching for answers. Both he and Darcy had caught her off guard. “I never thought of it that way, but I see what you mean. There’s no such thing as high society in Lucky Creek, and I find I like it that way.”
“You do?” Darcy searched her face, reaching for her thoughts. “You see Philadelphia as the center of your universe. From what I’ve seen, nothing will change that.”
She instantly bristled. How could he think her so inflexible? “As you know, I have certain interests in Philadelphia, but it’s definitely not the center of my universe.” Or was it? Maybe he spoke the truth, and she just couldn’t face it.
Harry burst into easy laughter, as if to smooth the slight friction in the air. “Well, California’s the center of Kenvern’s universe. He’s a hard worker and a fine man.”
Darcy nodded in agreement. “He might not speak proper English, but Ada would be lucky to have him. His future is here, and I plan to help him all I can.”
Laurie said no more. Darcy had set her to thinking about a lot of things, and so had Harry Peske.