by Zina Abbott
Mortimer shook a finger at Hank. “You’ll regret this. I have people in my employ that will make quick work of you. Why, I’ll see you…”
Diantha knew the battle with Mortimer was hers, not Hank Cauley’s, to fight. Since direct confrontation did not work, she would try distraction. She stepped around her counter and once again ordered him to leave. When he made no move to depart, she raised her voice until she shouted louder than Mortimer. “Your neck wound is seeping, Mr. Crane. Perhaps you should see Dr. Spense about getting your bandage replaced.”
Mortimer grimaced and clapped a hand over the pussy spot on the cotton wrap. He mumbled a curse in connection to a rabid horse. He quickly walked toward the front door but turned just as he reached for the handle. “I’ll be back to continue this discussion later, Mrs. Ames.”
Completely out of character for her, Diantha folded her arms and glared. “No, you will not, Mr. Crane, or I shall have Marshal Bowles arrest you for trespassing. I will contact one of our two fine attorneys in town about pressing charges against you. I don’t know exactly what they will be, but I am confident they will find something.” Diantha watched in satisfaction as Mortimer jerked the door open and rushed out, slamming it behind him.
Several seconds of silence passed before Diantha heard Hank address her. “He’s gone for now. Are you all right, Mrs. Ames?”
Dismayed at the tears filling her eyes, Diantha turned away from Hank. “I’m so sorry to have put you through this, Mr. Cauley. That man is such a wretch. I have never known anyone else so vile. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee he will not come back at some other time. I sincerely hope he does not create a scene that interferes with the success of your business. However, I do thank you for coming to my aid today.”
Hank’s laughter prompted Diantha to ignore her tears and turn towards him.
“I doubt his antics would be the cause of me losing any business. I suspect most people in this town know about him. If anything, it might prompt customers to give what I have to sell a second look.”
Diantha’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Mr. Cauley, you speak as if you know about Mr. Crane. Yet, I get the impression today was the first time you met him.”
Diantha studied Hank’s body language and his face as he smirked and shook his head, hoping to fully understand his thoughts.
“It is the first time I’ve met him in person. But, like I told you before, I was warned by my brother. Sorry to say, upon seeing Mr. Crane today, nothing about his conduct has persuaded me my brother gave me false information.”
Diantha stared, mesmerized, as Hank intently focused his gaze on her.
“Mrs. Ames, I know we got off to a rocky start. However, I wish to express to you how grateful I am you allowed me to rent space in your hotel for both the post office and my store. Seeing his high-handed way of going about things, if I had leased from Mr. Crane, I probably would have ended up doing something regrettable that would have jeopardized my business prospects here.”
Diantha dipped her head to keep him from seeing too much of her feelings, especially the ones regarding him for which she had no explanation. “I understand. I also am grateful we came to an agreement about your rooms.”
At his next words, softly spoken, Diantha looked up and witnessed his expression full of concern. Her gaze locked on his as a longing to grow closer to this man enveloped her.
“Mrs. Ames, what he said to you was deplorable. To try to take advantage of what I’m sure is a sorrow on your part was beyond belief. I’m so sorry.”
Tears once again flooded her eyes, and Diantha dropped her gaze. “You are referring to my inability to produce children?”
“Yes. For him to tout it as a positive, as a reason for there to be an intimate relationship between you two, one where you would not need to worry about producing an inconvenient child…I cannot believe even a man as crass as Mr. Crane would attempt to use that as a reason to entice you.”
“Mr. Crane makes assumptions he knows nothing about.”
“I know. Your lack of children might have been due to your husband’s inability.”
Diantha shook her head. “My husband was able to produce children, Mr. Cauley. He had a mistress who bore him a son. I saw the child when the seamstress came to collect the balance owed on the draperies for the dining room.” Feeling the shame over the situation, Diantha kept her head down as she listened to Hank catch his breath.
“Which explains why you wished for the draperies to be removed. Did she tell you she had a child by him?”
Diantha again shook her head. “She had no need to. She brought the child with her. Although she tried to keep his face hidden from me, I saw him clearly.” She could hear the doubt in his voice when he responded.
“But, can you be sure?”
“I married my first cousin, Mr. Cauley. I did not even need to change my last name. In the last few generations, there have been several marriages among first and second cousins of the Ames’ and related families. I know what an Ames baby looks like. There was no mistaking the child for anything other than my husband’s son.”
The room grew heavy with silence until Hank spoke again. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Ames. That must have been difficult.”
Diantha swallowed and looked away. “Yes. Ours was not a love match. Our grandfather divided his plantation between his two sons, my father and my uncle. The two brothers decided, in order to keep the land in the family, my older cousin, Edward, would inherit his father’s land. Through me, Eugene would inherit my father’s portion. We knew from the time we were children our fathers intended for us to marry. Of course, when his older brother died in the war, Eugene ended up with both portions.” She turned back to face Hank. “I never did expect a great romantic love. Eugene and I did what our family expected of us. We got along quite well together, so I was satisfied with a more fraternal love.” She looked down at her fingers that now fidgeted. “However, in spite of knowing what often took place with the men of plantation families, I had hoped for fidelity.”
His voice hoarse, Hank quickly agreed. “Of course, he should have been faithful. I cannot believe any man married to a beautiful woman with such an agreeable and compassionate disposition such as you have would even consider turning elsewhere.”
It surprised Diantha that he held such strong feelings on the subject. Somehow, through her haze of misery, Diantha recognized the compliments paid to her. Hank’s assurance she was a desirable woman a man should be proud to be married to bolstered her sense of self-worth as a woman.
Diantha realized she had been an asset to Eugene, but not for the person she was, only for what she her inheritance provided him. Through her, he received her father’s land. Although he ended up losing it to the carpetbaggers to pay outrageous taxes, he had been able to sell it for enough money to comfortably relocate elsewhere. She knew men found her attractive enough Eugene gained a sense of satisfaction over showing her off as his. She oversaw their private rooms and warmed his bed—when he came to it.
“Do you think he sought out this other woman?”
Diantha shook her head. “I don’t know. She was a new widow forced to leave miner’s housing with nowhere to go. She might have found his offer of financial support attractive. After Eugene’s passing, I reviewed the hotel business receipts and compared them to his journals. He listed a sewing machine as a hotel expense, but it never came to the hotel. Since she became a seamstress right after her husband died, I suspect he bought it for her. There were other questionable expenses and notations that led me to speculate, although he passed them off as business expenses, they were really intended as support for her and their child. Through a bit of gentle questioning, I learned the birth came over ten months after her husband’s death. By the time I saw the boy, he was old enough to walk.”
“I still do not understand why your late husband would risk his reputation in this small of a town by resorting to such behavior.”
“I believe he wanted a child—an heir. He n
eeded to prove the cause of our failure to have children did not rest with him. You must understand, my husband was trained to manage a plantation, raise race horses, leave his wife behind while he went into the city to gamble and visit with his male friends and…and sometimes seek female companionship. Plantation owners often made use of the female slaves they considered property while their wives were expected to silently look the other way.” She watched Hank lean his forearm on the outside edge of the registration counter as he considered her words. She concluded with a smile that held more sorrow than happiness. “Not all Southern gentlemen changed their attitudes or inclinations just because they lost the war.”
She watched Hank shake his head in disbelief.
“For many of us, life on a Southern plantation seemed rather idyllic. I suppose under the veneer of wealth, privilege, and glamor, there were the negative aspects.”
Diantha studied him as she considered his comment. For the women, but particularly for the slaves, yes. But, as far as growing up on a plantation, did she have room to complain? She never had been required to perform hard physical labor. She wore nice clothes, although some became threadbare during the war years. She enjoyed a better education than most women. Still, there had been aspects of her life where she felt deprived.
She knew she should not burden Hank Cauley with her deepest sorrow, but in the emotion of the moment, she did not hold back the words she had worked so hard to keep hidden from the world. “Although Mr. Ames and I were unable to bring a child into the world, I am able to conceive. What my womb cannot do is hold onto the child more than a month or two. Eugene said it probably was because of too much inbreeding in our family.”
“Inbreeding?”
“Because too many cousins in our family have married over the generations. He likened it to the ancient prophets in the Bible who married wives who were closely related to them. Many of those women had trouble bearing children. He understood how to successfully breed horses, so he knew about these things. I still may miscarry any child I conceive if fathered by a man to whom I am not closely related. As for Mr. Crane, I would never enter into such a degrading liaison such as he proposed, let alone take the risk of having child by him, whether I am able to carry it long enough to be born alive or not. The very thought of it makes me ill.”
“As it should.”
Diantha looked up, aware that Hank Cauley, an expression of concern on his face, had circled the registration counter and now stood next to her. He raised his hand as if to place it on her arm in a gesture of comfort or understanding, but withdrew it at the last minute. She realized then, if he touched her, she would not shy away. At the moment, no matter how unseemly it would be for her to allow it, she desperately wished Hank Cauley would gather her into his arms and squeeze her tight against him and never let her go.
Diantha forced a smile. “I would appreciate it if you keep confident what I have told you, Mr. Cauley. To the best of my knowledge, no one in Wildcat Ridge knows what I have confessed to you. I would like to keep it that way.”
Hank dropped his hand and stepped back, but the expression of concern remained on his face. “Of course, Mrs. Ames. You have my word. I feel privileged that you shared this with me. I assure you, I will do everything in my power to see Mr. Crane does not come anywhere near you again. And, Mrs. Ames?”
Diantha focused her gaze on his as she waited for him to continue his question. “Now that we are business associates, and perhaps even friends, I would very much like us to be on a first name basis. Would you consider calling me Hank, and allow me to call you by your given name?”
Diantha felt like they were more than business associates. She wished them to be more than friends. However, neither of them was in a position to pursue a closer relationship and might never be. Besides, if he decided to court a woman with the intent of marriage, he would surely prefer someone with good prospects of giving him children. He knew she had never been able to carry a child more than a few months. Surely, he would never consider her.
Diantha knew she must protect her heart. That meant maintaining as much emotional, as well as physical, distance as possible. “I don’t think that would be proper.” She ignored his expression of disappointment. “I would prefer to continue to address you as Mr. Cauley, and I ask that you continue to address me as Mrs. Ames.”
.
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Chapter 15
~o0o~
September 18, 1884
D iantha could not contain her restlessness. Her mind and heart still felt tied in knots over the confrontation with Mortimer Crane and the sweet, but horribly embarrassing, intimate confession to Hank Cauley two days earlier. She already finished her maid duties in the two rooms she rented out weekly. She needed to do something else to distract her thoughts.
Diantha’s fingers fidgeted too much for her to continue her needlepoint project. Another step she took to claim the hotel as hers now Eugene was gone included making a new feminine cushion for the desk chair where she worked on the accounts. Besides adding beauty to an otherwise stark set of furniture, the cushion would bolster her petite frame, making it easier to work at the desk. However, she knew if she put her hand to the project today, she would end up tearing out as much as she stitched.
She could not bear to stand behind the registration counter in an empty hotel lobby. As for going outside, as much as she would enjoy visiting with Hilaina, this was not a day to wash hotel laundry. Diantha knew Hilaina and her mother took in private laundry at their home on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Although Diantha had offered the use of her stove, copper pot to heat water she bought from Nissa, and the clothes lines, Hilaina declined. “Ain’t right using up your firewood when it ain’t for the hotel.”
Diantha entered the lobby and stepped over to the front window. The weather looked clear, although mud in the streets and patches of snow on the ground reminded her winter would soon make its appearance. Across the narrow valley, she admired the yellow leaves of the aspen trees against the backdrop of the evergreens. She knew if she opened the front door, the cool breeze would bring with it scents from Garnet’s Crystal Café to the north of her building. Across the road and Moose Creek, and off to the right, the spare mules used by the Wells Fargo stagecoach rested in the corral. Beyond that she could make out the railroad tracks, now unused ever since the Uintah Railway stopped service to Wildcat Ridge once Mortimer Crane decided not to reopen the mine following the collapse.
Diantha turned to look through the double doors leading to Hank’s stationary store. Although Hank had placed a sign on an easel just inside the door announcing he was open, no customers had come to shop. She had not seen or talked to him since the confrontation with Mortimer Crane and her mortifyingly embarrassing confession afterwards.
Before that incident, Hank had told her how pleased he felt over the sale of a few items in his store, but most sales came on Wednesdays and Saturdays, within the hours following mail delivery. They both hoped that as the Arrastra Mine developed, the railroad would resume service to Wildcat Ridge, bringing more customers to the Ridge Hotel and Hank’s shop. They also looked forward to next spring when, as word about the healing value of Angel Hot Springs spread, patrons on their way there, whether they came by stagecoach or train, would stay at the hotel upon their arrival in town. In addition to his books and stationary, Hank intended to have available in his store other convenience items for travelers.
As usual, Diantha remained more aware than she should that Hank busied himself in the next room, the wall the store shared with her center stairway blocking her view of him. She knew he would not welcome her presence, especially after she refused his request to be on a first name basis. As much as she thought of him as Hank, not Mr. Cauley, and longed to be where she could see him, talk to him, touch him—no, no, she must not allow her mind to go there—she knew it was best for them both if they kept their distance from each other. They were two business people sharing a building.
That was all. As much as she wished for a closer relationship between, nothing more could exist between them.
Hank’s mumbled outburst of frustration tugged at Diantha’s heart. Before she knew it, her feet carried her into Cauley’s Stationary and Books Store. Off to the right, and next to the side window with the view of the laundry yard, Hank sat at one of the old hotel tables. Sheaves of paper littered the flat surface. Hank’s head snapped up and, upon seeing her, a smile spread upon his face. He stood to greet her.
“Welcome, Mrs. Ames. How may I help you?”
“I feel cooped up due to the weather, Mr. Cauley. I decided to visit you and once again view your lovely selection of stationary.”
“Do you have one you favor?”
“Yes. This pink with the rose printed in the corner caught my eye. You were busy with mail customers the first day I saw it. I should get the funds and buy it before someone else claims it first.”
“Take it with you, Mrs. Ames.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that, not without paying first.” Diantha stepped around the tables he set up as a display counter and walked towards where he worked. She saw the pages scattered on the table were covered with words written in beautiful penmanship, although there appeared to be other marks near or over the words. “You seem rather intent on your project, Mr. Cauley. Do you mind sharing what it is you are doing?”
She watched with growing curiosity as Hank, a flush of embarrassment on his face, hesitated.
“Mrs. Ames, you asked me to keep a confidence a few days ago. Will you agree to keep one for me?”
