“You aren’t going?” Serena said.
“Yes, I must,” Consuelo answered, her voice subdued. “If I have been clumsy, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted—”
“I know,” Serena said simply.
Consuelo nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “Nathan mentioned that he had asked you to travel with him to Denver and the East, but you had refused. Would you object if I went in your place, provided he will take me, of course?”
“Isn’t that an extraordinary question to ask of the wife?” Serena queried, her mouth curving into a hint of smile.
“Yes, but then we are neither of us ordinary, I think,” Consuelo answered, her black eyes bright.
“You may be right. No, Consuelo, I don’t mind—and I wish you luck.”
“Thank you, Serena.”
There was grace in the Spanish girl’s movements and pride in the tilt of her head as she moved toward the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back. “After what you have said to me, I think you will be wise to read your letter, and decide with care how you will respond.”
“You know what it says?” Serena asked, taking up the envelope that lay in her lap.
“Ward did not tell me, if that is what you mean. But if you will notice, the flap is not well sealed, and I am a very curious woman, especially when there is much at stake.” As Serena started to her feet, she went on, “Don’t bother. I will let myself out.”
A final soft farewell, and she was gone. Serena put her teacup aside. She turned the envelope over and over in her fingers. The distress in her mind was so great that she was reluctant to add yet another element to it. What had Ward to say to her, or she to say to him? What had been between them was over. There was no point in letting herself be disturbed for nothing.
Serena leaned toward the fire, ready to consign the envelope to the leaping flames. At that moment there flitted across the surface of her memory a mocking suggestion. What had been the words Ward had used? Oh, yes. I prefer a more tangible reward—
Flinging herself back in her chair, Serena ripped open the envelope and plucked the folded sheet from inside. It was growing dim in the room as the evening advanced. She had to turn the page toward the fireglow to read the slashing script. Her name was the only salutation. The body of the note was short. It read:
Guilt unproven is the equal of innocence; the difference is in knowing where the evidence lies. If you recognize this truth, you will come to the Eldorado Wednesday morning at 11:00.
It was signed with Ward’s initials.
Serena sat staring at the words until they danced before her eyes. Then, slipping from her chair, she went to one knee, reaching to place the sheet carefully on the burning logs. She did not move until it had turned to blackened ash, whirling slowly in the wafting heat, rising in ragged bits of fire up the chimney.
18
On Tuesday afternoon, Nathan left Bristlecone to catch the train for Denver. The coachman drove him into town. Serena did not offer to see him off, nor did he ask her to do so.
The purpose of his trip to the East was to inspect a new type of hoist. The old bucket hoist was obsolete, Nathan man-rained. A new, safer way of lowering the men into the mines had been found. Called a cage, it worked on a similar principle, but had a superior electrical system for lowering and raising it, a practicality now that nearly the entire district had electrical power. It also had added safety features, such as a steel mesh covering to protect the miners from injury against the rough granite walls of the shaft, and a means of stopping the cage if for any reason it should begin to descend too fast. The mechanical aspects of the system fascinated Nathan, and he was determined that his Century Lode Mine was going to be the first to have it installed.
Waving goodbye from the front veranda, Serena wondered if Consuelo would be waiting when he reached the depot. She hoped so. She had thought a great deal about Consuelo’s appeal. She did not think the Spanish girl actually wanted her to be warmer toward Nathan, or more intimate with him. Serena had learned long ago that the temperamental, stiletto-carrying guise Consuelo affected was no more than a defense for her compassionate, caring heart, and yet she gave her more credit for natural jealousy than to believe the Spanish girl wanted to push her into Nathan’s arms. No, Consuelo was concerned for Nathan, but she was perfectly capable of seeing to the binding of his wounds, whatever their cause, herself.
The realization was a relief in its way. She did not feel charitable toward Nathan after what she had learned of his Machiavellian arrangement of their marriage. She had avoided him the past two days as much as possible. It was all she could do to be pleasant when they did meet, to restrain herself from blurting out an accusation of his crimes, without having to try to behave in a more informal manner.
In the way of all good servants, Mrs. Anson knew Nathan had asked Serena to go with him on this trip. She had hinted once or twice that Sean would be well looked after in her absence, that his mother was by no means necessary for his health and well-being. Serena had ignored the suggestions. It was not unreasonable for Mrs. Anson to be prejudiced in her Mr. Benedict’s favor. She had been with him for some time, and to her, Serena was a newcomer, and one who came with no very good credentials at that. She knew that in spite of the wedding vows that had been exchanged, Mr. Benedict still slept in his old rooms, with no evidence that he sought his new wife’s bed in the night. That was bound to be the madam’s fault, since it was as plain as the nose on a person’s face he was wild about her.
Serena had seen the sidelong glances the housekeeper had cast in her direction on mornings when she changed the beds and carried the linens away to be washed. She knew the woman had heard stories of her wicked past on Myers Avenue, and considered it beneath her to be forced to wait on such a woman. The earlier softness of her manner, when Serena had first come, had been for her as a human being sick and in pain. Now that she was well and whole again, there was no such indulgence. It might have been different if it could have been demonstrated that she was good for Nathan, that she made him happy. Quite the contrary was true. He had never looked so bad as since Serena had come. It was true the time was short, yet, since she had recovered enough to be considered ready for the marriage bed. It was still early days to pass a final judgment, but the time was coming. It was coming.
If relations between the housekeeper and herself had been less strained, Serena might have spared the woman the necessity of waiting on her at the table later that evening. As it was, she sat in solitary state in the dining room, partaking of course after course. Not that she was able to eat much of any one dish. Her stomach was knotted with agitation. Nathan was gone. Tomorrow at eleven in the morning she would present herself at the Eldorado according to Ward’s instructions. Why had he set that date and time? Had he seen Nathan before he sent the note? Did Ward know he would not be in town then? What had he meant by sending her such a cryptic message? What did he want of her? Did he intend to exact his more tangible reward, and if so, what form would it take? One thing was certain; he would not have it all his own way. There were a few things she had to say to him also, a few charges he was going to be made to answer, one way or another. With such possibilities spinning in her brain, she would never be able to sleep, never in the world.
She didn’t. Her hair was a mare’s nest of tangles and there were dark shadows under her eyes when Dorcas entered the room with her morning coffee. Serena stifled a moan as she caught sight of herself in the mirror of the dresser. She neither looked nor felt ready to match wits with Ward Dunbar. She wouldn’t go. She would send a note saying she was indisposed, saying she hated him and never wanted to see him again, saying she didn’t care what he wanted, what he felt or intended.
In spite of such fine resolves, she was dressed and ready by ten o’clock. With a certain sparkling malice, she had chosen a walking costume with a gored skirt, a shirtwaist blouse with a lace-edged jabot, and a tight-fitting basque jacket. It was nearly identical to the gray cheviot Wa
rd had bought her, the only exception being that the fabric was a rich, sea-blue velvet. The hat seated on her curls was a draped toque of the same velvet lined with satin and held in place by her brooch of sapphires and diamonds. Let Ward make of it what he would. She sincerely hoped he saw it as a studied contrast between her former penury when she was dependent on him, and her present position of wealth as Nathan’s wife.
There had been a break in the cold weather here in this first week in February. The day was sunny and pleasant, not really warm, but not cold either. Serena decided against her furs; they would crush the velvet of her jacket, and with the lap robe in the carriage she would be comfortable enough.
The grays were fresh, but they had tested her mettle before. They settled down to a steady trot that quickly covered the distance into town. What to do with so distinctive a vehicle as her phaeton loomed as a problem, until she decided to leave it at the livery stable with the excuse that she did not want to have her cattle standing for too long a time, as she had considerable shopping to do. Paying for the convenience was no problem. With characteristic generosity, Nathan had left a sheaf of bank notes on his desk for her before he left.
The livery stable, one street over from Myers Avenue, at an angle behind the Eldorado, was well placed for her purpose. The next question was what she was to do when she had seen her carriage wheeled out of sight. Should she take Second Street and actually walk up to Bennet and spend some time shopping? Or would it be better to slip as unobtrusively as possible across the alley between the stable and Myers to the Eldorado’s back door? Perhaps it had been a mistake to use the livery stable here; perhaps she should have used the one on Bennet? It might have been less noticeable for her to wander away from the shops on that main street down in the direction of Myers, than for her to come up from Myers to purchase a few items, then turn back in the same direction.
After all, what did it matter? It was unlikely she could keep her visit a secret from everyone. She would just have to trust that word of it did not get back to Nathan. Since she was going to have to enter the Eldorado at some time, it might as well be now.
Lifting her skirts, Serena climbed the rise that led to the wagonyard of the barroom. She skirted the back storage area and stepped to the rear entrance. The knob turned under her hand and the panel swung inward on oiled hinges. Serena moved inside, pushing the door shut behind her.
The familiar cold dimness, the smells of liquor, stale tobacco smoke, and unwashed cuspidors assailed her senses. She stood still, caught in mingled excitement and dread. The same grit was under her feet, the same lamps with their smoke-blackened globes hung from the ceilings. The same glittering array of bottles and glasses sat before the mirror that backed the bar, flanked by the same yellowing likenesses of women in poses of abandon. To her right was the stage, its curtains closed, and beyond it rose the stairs that led up to Ward’s rooms. Nothing had changed, nothing except herself.
Overhead came the sound of a door closing, followed by footsteps. It would not do for her to be discovered hovering just inside, looking as if she didn’t know whether to hide or run. Squaring her shoulders, she moved into the center of the room. With her gloved hands clasped tightly on her purse, a new one of corded faille, she looked around her with a great pretense of interest, turning only as she heard the footsteps reach the lower treads of the stairway.
Ward stood on the last step, one hand resting on the newel post. He looked as though he had not been long out of bed. His dark-brown hair was still damp, and there was a freshly shaven look to his bronzed face. He was without a shirt to cover the hard mahogany planes of his chest, though his gray cord trousers were freshly pressed, and there was a soft sheen on the leather of his boots. There was no sleepiness in his eyes, however. They were alert, hard, and vividly green.
“Good morning, Ward,” Serena said, and was agreeably surprised to find the pitch of her voice low and composed.
He inclined his head. “Serena.”
“As you can see, I received your summons.”
“And you came. I always knew you were an intelligent woman.”
“You overwhelm me,” she answered, matching his solemn mockery.
He met her steady, blue-gray gaze for a long moment, then with deliberate, measuring intentness dropped his own to the rounded curves of her body and the costume of blue velvet that covered them. “You are looking well — and prosperous.”
“That should come as no surprise, to you of all people.”
A frown flitted across his face, as if he found her reply disconcerting, before he gave a nod. “I suppose not. You never made any mystery of what you wanted, did you?”
It was the opening Serena had been waiting for. “You mistake my meaning. I was referring to the sum Nathan paid you to stay hidden in the hills until he had maneuvered me safely into marriage.”
His brows snapped together. “What?”
“I hope the settlement was a large one, since your absence not only came close to losing the Eldorado for you, it passed to Nathan the right to give his surname to your son.”
If she had expected to see him devastated by her broadside, she was due for a disappointment. There was a moment when a tinge of gray appeared under his skin and his grip on the newel post tightened, then it was gone, and he stood straight and tall before her.
“So that’s what you think?” he said softly.
“It seems an obvious conclusion.”
“Even knowing that once before, when Nathan offered money, I turned it down?”
“At that time, I refused to consider it also, something you don’t seem to have taken into account before accusing me.”
“Why should I bother to remember past history when I have you standing before me now, the perfect example of a rich man’s wife? Nathan made his proposition honorable and you took it. That much is pretty obvious too.”
“Yes, I did accept it, a week before my child was born. It seemed preferable to have some kind of father for him. What is your excuse for accepting when Nathan upped the ante?” With blue fire in her eyes, Serena stared at him.
Ward ignored the question. “At least you didn’t sell yourself cheaply, did you?”
“I’ve learned better,” Serena snapped.
He lifted his brooding green gaze from the contemplation of the sapphires and diamonds that glittered in the bracelet that encircled her gloved wrist. “I don’t doubt it,” he answered, his voice grim.
“What I don’t understand,” Serena said, moving toward him with unself-conscious grace, “is why you came back. Why couldn’t you have stayed dead? Why didn’t you go to another town, start over, even practice law again? It should have been easy enough with Nathan’s money behind you.”
“I had an investment here. There was property, among other things, that I valued. I don’t give up what is mine easily.”
A bitter smile curved her mouth. “Bravo, Ward. You saved your saloon and lost your son!”
“There was never any hope of saving both,” he answered, his voice expressionless. “I guessed that much while I lay half dead on a rocky ledge two-thirds of the way down a cliff. I knew it when I woke up and found myself in an Indian village without a name.”
Serena stopped, the color draining out of her face, leaving the blue shadows like bruises under her eyes. “You knew I was going to have your baby before you left?”
“Your body was as familiar to me as my own,” he answered, his voice rough, “How could I not know?”
“You knew, and said nothing. You knew, and you left me alone?”
“I had my reasons.”
“What could they be? What could be more important — except money?”
He lifted his hand, then let it fall. “Money, gold; it always comes back to the same thing in the end, doesn’t it? This is getting us nowhere. What’s done is done. Our concern now is with more recent history, what happened four days ago to be exact. Or have you forgotten?”
Her lips tightened, “It isn’t like
ly, not with you to remind me.”
Though she resented his easy dismissal of her questions, she made no effort to avoid the subject. Perhaps she would receive a clear answer on one issue at least.
“That business is still unfinished,” he said, a mocking smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “If you will come upstairs, we will go into it at greater length.”
“Upstairs?”
“I don’t believe it’s a good idea to discuss it here. You can never tell who might be listening.” He stood aside for her to mount the stairs ahead of him.
Serena did not move. To be alone with him in those upstairs rooms where so much had taken place was the last thing she wanted.
“Surely you aren’t afraid of me?” he queried, his voice soft.
“No,” she said, sending him a dark look. It was more that she did not trust him, did not like the glint in the emerald depths of his eyes as he watched her.
“Well then?”
He was right. It could be dangerous to talk here in the open. There was no other place they could go within a reasonable distance that would not be just as compromising, if not more so. She had no choice but to pick up her skirts and move before him up the stairs.
The sitting room was more shabby than she remembered, the effect of Pearlie’s occupancy, no doubt. There was a new sideboard holding crystal decanters on one wall. Otherwise it was not much changed. The splay-footed couches with their tube pillows were the same, as were the rugs, the tables, the enameled fruit, and the peacock feathers. Serena moved to touch the shimmering black-and-turquoise eye of one feather. Dust rained down from it onto the tabletop, wafting over the surface as she turned to face Ward.
“Don’t look so defensive,” he drawled. “I’m not going to attack you.”
“I never thought you were!”
“Didn’t you? My mistake. Would you care for something to drink, a cup of coffee or a glass of wine?”
The urge to refuse, to demand to know why he had sent for her, was strong. She suppressed it. It might well be to her advantage to establish an easier atmosphere between them. Moving to seat herself on the couch, she put her purse to one side, “Yes, I’ll take a small sherry, if you have it.”
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