Eleanora (The Widows 0f Wildcat Ridge Book 8)
Page 10
“Don’t talk down to me, Shannon!” Crane snarled. “I know what they can do. I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were.”
“What do you want from me?”
“A settlement for the widows in Wildcat Ridge.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
“You’re wasting your time and mine. It’s a real shame what happened to the miners at the Gold King, but I’m not responsible for their kin.”
Reed heaved a sigh. He gathered up the newspapers and returned them neatly to the saddle bag. Finally, he stood.
“I hear you have a new town now. Cranesville, isn’t it? A new mine, too. Doing real well, from what I’m told.” Reed smiled. “In other words, making you richer every day, just like the Gold King did.”
Crane glowered. “Get to your point.”
“My point is, it won’t take me long to send out a few wires. I know just who to contact. Activists, remember? They have a soft spot for laborers who work for mine owners that don’t treat them right.” He smirked and pulled out the last ace up his sleeve. “Before you know it, you’ll have more trouble on your hands than you can handle.”
The man started breathing fast. Face got real red, too.
“How much money do you want for them widows?” he demanded.
“A hundred-dollar bill for each. Forty-seven widows, total.”
A strangled sound erupted from Crane’s throat. “You’re crazy.”
“The widows need the money. You won’t even miss it.”
“I’m not paying forty-seven hundred dollars to no one!”
Reed inclined his head and kept his features even. “Then you’ll be hearing from a judge.”
“Fine.”
“He’ll say you need to atone for those unsafe working conditions.”
“I don’t care what he says, Shannon. I’ll see you in court.”
This time, when Mortimer Crane turned his horse, he kept riding, his armed bodyguard beside him, his back straight and shoulders squared in defiance.
I’m not paying forty-seven hundred dollars to no one!
The words churned like mud in Reed’s stomach.
Chapter 12
The Next Morning
Eleanora should never have allowed herself to become attracted to Reed Shannon. She knew better. Rarely was she so foolish, so careless, with her emotions. Throughout her life, she’d always been the pragmatic one. Sensible and realistic.
But he’d taken her best virtues and tossed them into the wind. He turned her into a different woman. A reckless one. He clouded her mind, stole her ability to reason and filled her heart with a wild hope he’d want to stay in Wildcat Ridge with her and Tessa.
But he hadn’t given the slightest hint that he would. Instead, he was leaving. This morning. Right on schedule.
Too soon.
He’d returned from Cranesville last evening somber and quiet. Clearly, his thoughts troubled him. He spoke little during supper, responding to her questions with short answers, giving few details, saying only that Mortimer Crane had been bull-headed and uncooperative. Eleanora hid her disappointment, assured him she’d expected as much and would simply find another way to seek justice for herself and the widows. Reed had been less than encouraging and retired to his room to write his report.
She hadn’t seen him again until a few minutes ago, when he came downstairs, still somber and troubled, dressed in his traveling suit and bowler. Sean McNair had already taken Reed’s baggage to load onto the Wells Fargo stage. All that was left was to walk over to the station.
“Where are we going, Mama?” Tessa asked, standing still while Eleanora buttoned her coat clear to her neck.
“We’re walking Mr. Shannon to the Wells Fargo.”
“Where’s he going on the Wells Fargo?” she asked, as if Reed wasn’t standing right there, staring out the hotel lobby’s window.
“He’s going on a long ride to a place called Washington, D.C.”
“Why?”
Eleanora pulled on one of her black gloves. “Because he’s going to live and work there now.”
“How come he doesn’t want to stay here with us no more?”
Reed turned from the window. “Eleanora.” He cleared his throat. “Eleanora, there’s no reason for you to walk me to the station. I can find my own way.”
“Of course, you can, but it’s the least I can do after you’ve traveled so far to come here.” Ill-fated trip that it was. She tugged on the second glove. “Tessa, how would you like to play with Joey and Hyacinth while Mama and Mr. Shannon are at the stagecoach station?”
“Yippee! Yippee!” Her daughter launched into an ecstatic dance of jumping up and down and skipping to the door. “Let’s go, Mama!”
Eleanora pulled on her black cape with a smile. “Wait on the bench, Tessa. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Her daughter scurried out and closed the door with a noisy bang. Eleanora turned toward Reed, finding the depths of his acorn-brown eyes shadowed and intense. She’d never seen him so serious.
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done,” she said quietly. “I know coming here required you to postpone your own plans.”
“I didn’t do nearly enough.” He strode closer.
“Mortimer Crane is not a man to be manipulated easily. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if he was.”
He stood before her, so close she could smell the scent of expensive tobacco, the cheroots he enjoyed so much.
“I’ve finished my report,” he said.
She nodded her appreciation. “It’s good that you did. Thank you.”
“I’ll send it on to one of my associates in Denver. I’ll request that he... take over the case in my absence.”
The words shoved a ball of emotion into her throat, depriving her of the ability to speak for a long moment. She refused to let him see her disappointment; it was imperative he not know how much she regretted him leaving with so little accomplished. If he’d had more time, if circumstances were different...
“If he agrees, I’ll wire you the specifics,” Reed continued, his voice low. “I’ll request that he contact you for any other information he might need.”
“If he agrees?” The words did nothing to assure her.
“He’ll agree. I’ll insist on it.” Reed’s mouth tightened. “But it’ll require more time, I’m afraid.”
“Time.” She sighed. He might as well have said she’d have to fly to the moon first.
“Eleanora,” he said roughly.
His lean fingers reached toward her cheek, but she stepped back quickly. One stroke, one little caress, and she’d melt into a pool of tears.
How much longer could she manage this façade of strength? “No, Reed. Don’t touch me. It—it will only make things worse.”
He didn’t move, but she sensed his restraint, as if he’d donned chains to keep from taking her into his arms.
“These past few days have meant the world to me,” he murmured. “I want you to know that.”
“For what good?”
“I’ll never forget you.” The words sounded rough. “Or Tessa, either.”
Dare she tell him how much he meant to her, too? That he was a man who’d affected her far more deeply than she could’ve imagined? Or that she admired him, maybe even loved him, and after these days she’d spent with him, it was all for naught?
A total waste of hope and attraction and wishes for things that might’ve been?
A rap on the window scattered her thoughts and ended their conversation. Tessa pressed her face against the glass and mouthed something Eleanora could barely hear, but she didn’t need words to know her daughter’s impatience.
“She wants us to hurry,” Eleanora said, taking her drawstring bag and settling it over her wrist. “She doesn’t get to play with Hyacinth and Joey often.”
“We’d best not make her wait, then.” Reed gave her a tight smile and o
pened the door. “You’re going to leave the hotel unattended?”
“It won’t be for long, and I don’t much care if Crane hears of it.” Succumbing to a rebellion she rarely voiced, she swept past him while he latched the door. “It’s not Tillie’s day to work, and I didn’t have time to send word to her to come in, anyway.”
“You need more help,” Reed said. “Not fair he ties you down to this damned hotel.”
It wouldn’t do for her daughter to hear disconcerting adult conversation. Tessa was much too perceptive at times, more than a three-year-old should be, and the last thing Eleanora wanted was to worry her.
“Walk ahead of us, Tessa,” she said. “Mama is right behind you.”
“I know the way. You don’t have to tell me.”
“I’ll watch, just in case you forget.”
With her daughter skipping happily in the lead, Eleanora fell into an easy walk with Reed. Such a strange sensation, strolling the Front Street boardwalk on a sunny morning with a man as distinguished as him, even if he tended to walk closer than was proper. Indeed, their shoulders bumped more often than they should.
“I’ve asked him to hire another employee before, but it did no good.” The top of her head barely reached Reed’s nose, making his height a good fit to hers and one more thing to like about him. “It’s not as if I get many customers. Folks tend to stay at the Ridge Hotel, since it’s closer to the Wells Fargo.”
“Seems to me any good businessman would want to make his hotel more attractive than the competition’s.”
She sniffed. “Mortimer Crane is not like most businessmen.”
“That he is not.” He frowned.
Raucous laughter spilled from the Two-Bit Saloon, and Reed’s hand slipped to the small of her back as they passed. A protective gesture, nothing more, but Eleanora’s pulse pattered from its pleasant heaviness.
Both their gazes stayed upon Tessa as they passed the jail and yet another drinking establishment, the Last Chance, lest anyone unsavory spill from their doors. No one did, thank goodness, and it wasn’t until they strolled past the Sugar and Spice Bakery that he finally removed his hand.
Immediately, she missed his warmth. When again would she enjoy the pleasure?
“Why do you suppose Crane doesn’t care if his hotel succeeds?” he asked, thoughtful.
“Because he’d rather see it fail so he can tear it apart and haul it to Cranesville. Besides, I’m free labor, and oh, Reed, let’s not talk of him anymore.” She halted in front of the Crystal Café and peered up at him, her hand on his arm. “You have only a short time left in Wildcat Ridge. I prefer you leave on a positive note, not a sour one. Let me introduce you to someone much nicer. You’ll like her, I think.”
He regarded her, his dark eyes smoldering. She could almost see his thoughts churning inside his head, the many things he wasn’t saying to her. If they’d had another morning, another day, perhaps he’d admit what was so heavy on his mind.
But now wasn’t the time. Tessa had already gone inside the café, excited as usual to see her young friends.
“Who am I meeting?” Reed asked, opening the door Tessa had just closed.
“Garnet Chandler. She owns this café.”
“Another widow, I assume?”
“Yes.” Eleanora indicated the three children huddled together around a puzzle spread out on a table. Tessa pulled off her coat and dropped it onto the floor, much to Eleanora’s exasperation. “That’s Hyacinth and Joey, six and eight years old.”
“Garnet’s children?”
“Niece and nephew. She took them both in after their parents were killed in the explosions. They’re a bit old for Tessa, but there are few her age in Wildcat Ridge, and they play well together.”
Garnet rushed out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Slender, with pale brown hair and hazel eyes, she’d arrived in Wildcat Ridge as a mail-order bride. She was married to Michael Chandler less than a year before she lost him in the mine explosion, and Eleanora had always enjoyed her company whenever they had time to spend together.
Seeing Eleanora, and then Reed, Garnet’s step faltered; she smoothly recovered and met Eleanora striding toward her, bending to pick up Tessa’s coat.
“This is a surprise,” Garnet said with a broad smile. Then, keeping her back to Reed, she leaned closer to whisper to Eleanora. “Is he who I think he is?”
Eleanora draped Tessa’s coat on the back of a chair. She understood Garnet’s attempt to be discreet, but Reed was too smart not to see her curiosity.
“This is Reed Shannon,” she said, straightening.
“The union attorney from Denver?” Garnet swiveled toward him. “I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Shannon.”
“A privilege from living in a small town, no doubt.” He took her hand and smiled, all but blinding Eleanora with its brilliance and charm.
She nearly sighed aloud, only to have to scramble to gather her wits again. “He’s leaving shortly, I’m afraid. Heading east for a previous commitment. Would you mind if I left Tessa here while I accompany him to the Wells Fargo station?”
“Of course not. We’d love to keep her.”
Garnet would have all sorts of questions Eleanora would need to address when she returned. If only she had better news to report...
She told her daughter good-bye, dropped a quick kiss to her little cheek and strolled past a table with several other women gathered for coffee and cake. Eleanora didn’t take the time to identify them, or even acknowledge them, but they stared with an interest that bored right through the back of her clothing.
Reed reached around her to open the door, and she slipped out of the café with no small measure of relief.
“Well, Mr. Shannon. You certainly know how to draw the eyes of all the females around here,” she murmured, falling into step with him along the boardwalk.
He grunted, his hand against the small of her back with gentle familiarity as he guided her across Front Street toward the Wells Fargo station. “I’d say the same thing about you, Mrs. Cavender, if this fine town was made up of a primarily male population.”
Her mouth softened from his compliment, and she tucked it away in her heart to savor later. Darvin had never been much for wooing her, and though Reed had been subtle, the words came quick and fervent, and she indulged in knowing he meant them.
Which only made it harder to see him leave. The closer they got to the stagecoach station, the noisier the area became. Men loaded trunks and baggage high on to the stagecoach with oaths, bumps and bangs. Fresh mules stood patient and already harnessed. Men and women milled about, the passengers who had already arrived and those preparing to depart, and before they reached the platform, Reed clasped her elbow and pulled her away from it all.
A stone chimney jutted from the side of the building, and he halted with her there, within its shadows. He angled his tall body in front of hers, allowing them a semblance of privacy.
She stared at the buttons of his fine cotton shirt. If she looked up at him, if she could see a shred of turmoil in those rich brown eyes, she would know it mirrored her own, and she couldn’t bear it.
“Eleanora,” he said roughly.
As much as she fought its rise, a grief unlike any she’d felt with Darvin stirred and burned within her chest. She had to be strong; she couldn’t let Reed see how hard it was for him to leave her. That they’d failed in all they set out to do together, and she’d likely never get a chance with a man like him again...
“Eleanora, look at me.”
Still, she refused, and he knuckled her chin upward so she couldn’t. And yes, there it was. The turmoil she didn’t want to see. The pain of leaving. Not only Wildcat Ridge, or Tessa, or the job he’d come here to do, but her.
Definitely her.
It was all there, in his handsome, shadowed face. The pain that reflected her own.
“I’ll worry about you, you know,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll wonder how you’re doing in that damned hotel, wo
rking under Crane, what’s he doing to take advantage of you.”
“Please don’t,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’m not alone”
“The hell you aren’t.”
“The widows, they understand.” She drew in a breath and let it out again. “They’ll help any way they can.”
“It’s not enough.”
“Shall I dig myself a hole and crawl in?” Her brow arched. “Just give up because you’re leaving, and I don’t have the justice against Mortimer Crane that I wanted?”
He frowned.
“I’m not going to do that, Reed.”
He cupped the side of her face, his touch so manly, so tender, the tears stung. She blinked fast so they wouldn’t stream out like water from a spigot.
“Write to me. Let me know how you’re doing,” he said quietly.
Letters. They were what she was good at. Even with her scarred hand, putting words to paper was a skill she’d always enjoyed.
But she would never see him again, and they would serve no purpose.
“No.” She shook her head. “No letters.” She hesitated. “We must make a clean break now. It’s for the best.”
He cocked his head, his regard penetrating. “A kiss? Give me that, at least.”
“Oh, Reed.” She emitted an incredulous laugh that sounded more like a sob than anything amused. Hadn’t he been listening to anything she’d said? Hadn’t he understood? “Especially not that.”
He stilled. Finally, he inclined his head and stepped back. “If that’s what you want, Eleanora.”
No, it’s not what I want! But what choice do I have but to end our time together, here and now? For good?
“It is,” she said with utter calm.
“This is good-bye, then.” He touched a finger to the brim of his bowler. “Good luck, my sweet. In everything you do.”
She didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She could only stare as he walked away, straight toward the massive stagecoach. He approached the open door and acknowledged the burly driver with a curt nod; he climbed up the steps and disappeared inside.
Only then did Eleanora find the strength to walk away. One foot in front of the other. Away from the chimney, past the stagecoach and across Front Street with her thoughts, her sadness, a tangled mess inside her head.