She moved cautiously when it came to stocks, preferring to keep her own investments right in Denver. K-E had expanded its offices, which now took up half a city block, and Bea had hired six more men. She had begun helping other businesses make investments, opening her own brokerage firm so that she could keep a close eye on New York. Seventeenth Street, in Denver, where the K-E offices were located, had been nicknamed the Wall Street of the West.
The biggest drawback to getting too involved in the real Wall Street was the current administration under President Grant. Grant was showing himself to be a weak president who did not know how to control Congress. His administration seemed totally untrustworthy. Nearly every day the newspapers carried stories of scandal. The value of paper money fluctuated dramatically. Bribes and payoffs by large corporations, and especially the railroad, to men in government were rumored, and Bea did not doubt the stories. Durant and his Union Pacific were the supreme example of monopoly and corruption. After the insult the UP had handed Denver, Bea would forever consider them an enemy, in spite of the Denver Pacific’s deal with the UP to use their lines.
Bea never saw her own underhanded dealings as wrong, just as necessary to protect the family. It was the other big businesses who were the scoundrels, and the most notorious was the railroad, of whose power Bea was almost jealous. It made her furious that the railroad could make or break a community through freight rates; yet she encouraged such threatening tactics within the Denver Pacific to wheel and deal with Denver politicians and businesses. The railroad had almost omnipotent power because of their monopoly over freighting, especially in the West, where people and businesses were dependent on them. Bea did not doubt that Tom Durant and other railroad magnates were reaping incredible profits and paying off the right people to hold their powerful monopoly together. She did not consider the fact that in Denver she had her own monopoly. K-E was at the helm of so many banks and businesses that few other businesses or municipal agencies could make a move without her permission or without affecting K-E.
The latest K-E venture was an investment in a water project that would bring fresh water from the mountains to Denver. The Platte River and Cherry Creek were becoming badly polluted, with few sanitary laws in effect. Most of Denver’s elite were still too intent on getting rich to worry about the more common concerns, like water pollution, littered streets, industrial waste, and the like. But already the city’s new hospital had too many cases of sickness and disease from poor sanitation, and Bea could see the growing need for water, not just clean water, but enough water, period, to supply Denver’s burgeoning population. She was now the biggest investor in K-E Water Company, in which she had encouraged others to invest, and engineers now worked in the mountains to bring water to Denver. As soon as the Denver Pacific was completed and the celebrations were over, Kirk would be going to the mountains to oversee the project, which would include a series of dams. It would be a magnificent undertaking, one that would require considerable outside investment in the long run, but one that would surely prove as profitable as would the Denver Pacific.
Work was also progressing on steam-powered, pumped water throughout the city, most of it coming from the Platte. Knowledgeable men, hired from universities across the country, were working on ways to clean up the drinking water. Foreign investments were helping with the costs of the project. A municipally owned and operated gas company was also in the works, and plans were laid to light Denver’s streets with gas lights by 1871.
Bea leaned back in her chair, looking across the long, now empty oak table in the K-E boardroom. She had just ended a board meeting to discuss the many branches of the company, and she felt the warm glow of accomplishment. All of this had come from those months of scrubbing clothes in the foothills of the Sierras. She studied her hands, which would never be beautiful, and she thought what a long way she and Kirk had come since first agreeing to marry. They had had some very bad times, had never had a really loving marriage, but the Denver Pacific and Denver’s fight not to be defeated by the UP had brought new life to her marriage, and she had gleaned a new respect for her husband.
They had been too long separate sexually to come together that way now. Perhaps they never would again. At thirty-nine, with gray at the temples and even more weight on her heavy frame, she doubted she was much inspiration to him. Kirk, on the other hand, had remained hard and strong and handsome. Sometimes she actually wanted him again, but she was afraid to tell him so.
She thought how at least Chad and Irene were happy. Irene’s baby was due in another month, and Bea could hardly wait to be a grandmother.
The only shadow on all the good things that were happening was that Ramon Vallejo was back in Denver. Bea was certain the man could no longer interfere with Irene’s happiness. It had been six years since her silly crush on him.
Still, it annoyed her that Ramon was back at all, and a rich man, no less. He was certainly far less wealthy than the Kirklands and could probably never hope to come close to such wealth, but he was a fast-rising businessman, backed by people with a good deal of money, and she had been forced to sell him lumber from her own mill.
It infuriated her that it was Ramon who was building the new Methodist church, but she could not publicly do a thing about it without causing suspicion, and Ramon knew it. It worried her a little that Irene had been instrumental in hiring him. She was sure it was only out of old friendships, and because Ramon was a talented builder (much as Bea hated to admit it), but there was a little nagging worry that Irene had given the deciding vote for deeper reasons. Bea had never quite gotten over the faint guilt of shattering her daughter’s heart years ago when she sent Ramon away. She realized that such unrequited love could sometimes be dangerous.
Such thoughts were foolish. Irene had Chad, and a new baby coming. Nothing could keep a woman’s heart where it belonged more than that. Chad was so wonderful, and Irene was so excited about the baby. Bea decided her fears were unjustified, and attributed them to her own jealousy and chagrin that Ramon had managed to amount to something. She had hoped to be permanently rid of him, and now he was back in Denver, pricking at her like a burr under a saddle. She had to stop thinking about him and get back to the business at hand. The UP was expected to be connected any day now at Promontory Point, Utah, with great ceremony, and at the same time the Denver Pacific would also be completed. Denver had its own celebrations planned. The UP had not defeated the Queen City. If anything, Denver was stronger than ever.
Irene left the meeting of the Ladies Union Aid Society early. Chad had told her he had to work late tonight, and she hated the thought of going home to an empty house. There was too much excitement in the air over the coming celebrations. She wondered if perhaps Chad would like to go out to eat at the Denver Inn. She could help him finish his paperwork at the office, so he could get out early, and they could have a quiet, elegant dinner out.
Life had been so much better lately. She had more confidence than ever in her marriage, and it had even been easier to be near Ramon on the several occasions they’d had to work together on the church project. The old feelings might never go away, but the pain was made more bearable by having a husband who seemed to have become what she had always wanted. And now there was the baby. She had only one month to go, and she felt good. There had been no complications.
She ordered her driver to take the carriage to the K-E offices, where she disembarked, noticing the lamps were not lit in the main lobby. She had her own key to the building, and she quietly let herself in, closing and locking the door behind her. Denver might be progressing rapidly, but the streets were still not safe at night. The many saloons were always busy, and a number of poor, homeless people roamed the streets. Muggings and robberies were common. Bea gave strict instructions that if anyone worked late, he or she must always lock the main door to the building.
Irene made her way up the stairs to the door to Chad’s office, where she thought she heard voices. She frowned, listening closer, hearing a wo
man’s laughter, then a shuddering sigh. A sick feeling began to invade her stomach. She wanted to be wrong, needed to be sure, for she had been so happy these past several months.
She opened the door, horror immediately engulfing her when she caught her husband in the throes of lovemaking with Milicent Delaney, his secretary, both of them stark naked. Chad looked up in surprise, and Milicent gasped, leaping up and grabbing her dress to cover herself. “Irene,” Chad said weakly.
Irene turned and ran out. “Wait,” she heard Chad call out. She did not stop. She staggered to the top of the stairs, the ugly picture blazing in her mind. Chad! Why was she so surprised? She had known there had been others, but somehow thinking they were only one-night stands with whores seemed to make it easier to accept. But this…this had probably been going on for a long time. This was probably the only reason Chad had been home more—he had a more convenient lover!
She felt she would be sick. Milicent! The woman was married and had three children! She and Chad had even invited them to their home for dinner once—Chad and Milicent had acted as though everything was strictly business between them. Seeing it with her own eyes made it all so ugly, so unbearable.
“Irene,” she heard Chad call again. He appeared at the doorway, still fumbling at the buttons of his pants. “Irene, you don’t understand it all.”
She turned to look at him. “I understand everything, Chad. Everything.”
He came closer, and at the moment she could not bear the thought of him touching her. She stepped back, in her horror and humiliation forgetting where she was standing. Her heel slipped over the top step of the wooden stairway, and the next thing she knew she was falling, screaming, pain ripping through her as she rolled and tumbled down the stairs. In her awkward condition, she could do nothing to stop herself. Her head slammed against something as she landed at the bottom of the stairs, and everything went blessedly black.
Irene stirred, and immediately every part of her hurt, especially her head. She tried to think, to say something, then remembered the horrible picture of Chad and Milicent’s naked bodies. “Chad,” she muttered.
Bea leaned over her daughter, thinking she was calling for her husband out of pain and need. “Irene! Thank God you’re conscious,” her mother told her. “I’ll get Chad. He’s been beside himself with worry.”
Irene tried to object. She did not want to see her husband, not for a long, long time. The next thing she knew he was standing over her, leaning close. They were alone in the white hospital room. She turned her face away.
“Irene,” he said quietly. “You’ve got to let me explain. There are things about me you don’t understand.”
“I hate you,” she groaned, at the moment meaning every word. How strange that she had never hated anyone in her life, and now she was saying those cruel words to her own husband, the man she had vowed to love forever. “Go away, Chad.”
“Irene—” She could tell he was crying. “My God, Irene, I was happy about the baby. I swear to God I was. I just…I wanted to be sure everything went all right. I couldn’t make love to you because of the baby.”
He couldn’t even abstain because of the baby, she thought. He couldn’t go without for a few weeks. What kind of animal have I married?
“It wasn’t…just the baby,” he told her. “When you’re better, Irene, we’ll talk. I’m sorry, Irene. At least…at least you don’t have any broken bones—just a lot of bad bruises, and a slight concussion.” She heard him sniff. “Damn it, Irene, a man is just a man…he has needs…it had nothing to do with how I feel about you…or how I felt about the baby.”
A horrible suspicion began to creep into her veins because of the way he kept mentioning the baby. The baby! That was all she had now, but…vague memories flooded her muddled mind now. She had been unconscious, yet aware of something—a terrible pain, much worse than the pain in her bones from the fall. It was a deep, ripping pain…She slowly put a hand to her stomach, realizing then with horror that it was nearly back to its normal size. She had given birth!
She opened bloodshot eyes to see Chad’s blurred face leaning over her. “Where’s…my baby?” she asked.
Real tears slipped out of his eyes, as he grasped her hands. “You…you lost it,” he said, practically sobbing. “It came early, because of the fall. It couldn’t live, Irene. It was still too small. It was…a little girl.”
She just stared at him, letting the gruesome reality sink into her confused mind. The baby! Gone, just like that, like a puff of wind. All those months of carrying it, being so careful, feeling her baby move inside her womb, dreaming of bringing her child home to the beautiful nursery she and Chad had designed. She thought for an instant how this reminded her of her wedding night, of the horror her husband had brought her. Now he was doing it again. Again he had brought pain, and an ugly memory that would last a lifetime. The first time was forgivable. This time was not.
She pulled her hands away, covering her face, breaking into pitiful, deep sobs that racked her sore body.
“My God, Irene, I’m so sorry. I wish…I wish there was some way I could make up for it—”
“Get out,” she groaned. “Just get out.” Her baby! Her precious baby! How long ago had it happened? Was it already buried? She would never even get to see it! The tears came so hard then that she could barely catch her breath between sobs, and her chest felt on fire. She heard other voices then, as more people came into the room—heard her mother fussing, heard Kirk’s voice.
“It’s going to be all right, Irene,” she heard Kirk saying then. She felt his strong hands on her arms. “You’ll have more children. The doctor says there is no reason why you can’t.”
First I have to have a husband who loves me—a man whose seed I want to carry. “Hold me, Father,” she sobbed. Kirk thought it strange she should turn to him and not her husband, but he decided she was in such a bad state she could not think straight. He leaned down and put his arms around her, and it was her father who brought her the only slight comfort she knew for the moment.
Chad watched with horrible dread, expecting that any minute Irene would spill the truth, but she said nothing. He prayed she was too ashamed. Although he hated the idea of her being ashamed of him, the thought of everyone knowing the truth was much worse. The last person he wanted to face with the truth was Bea Kirkland. “Maybe the doctor should give her something to make her sleep now,” he spoke up. He hoped to keep her quiet until she was more stable and he could reason with her.
Bea patted her daughter’s hair and looked at the doctor. “Can you give her anything more to put her out of her pain?” she asked the man.
“Perhaps a little more laudanum, but not too much.”
Bea leaned down and kissed Irene’s cheek. “We’ll be right here the rest of the night, Irene. Oh why, oh why, didn’t you just go straight home last night? You shouldn’t even have been at that Ladies Society meeting in the first place. Oh, this is so terrible, and just when we had so much to celebrate.”
Last night. So, it had been at least twenty-four hours.
“She probably was figuring on surprising me,” she heard Chad saying. “It could have been such a wonderful night for us. But I’ve told her and told her not to come to the office and climb those stairs in her condition.”
Now she knew why he had wanted her to stay away from the office. She thought how smoothly he lied, imagined how cleverly he had gotten out of any blame for this. Had he hurriedly sent Milicent scurrying out a back door before he fetched a doctor? Had he let her lie helpless while he dressed himself properly before anyone could see him?
Chad! The nausea came to her stomach again at the ugly memory: the naked bodies; Milicent, lying there on the floor with her legs spread for another woman’s husband, while the woman’s own husband sat home with her children waiting for her.
“I want to go to the mountains, Father,” she said weakly, feeling as vulnerable as the young woman who had made that trip, wanting to be that girl again, w
anting to start over. “Take me to the mountains.”
“She’s getting delirious,” she heard Bea saying, “Oh, Chad, you poor darling.” She heard the woman sobbing then. A man was crying. Chad. Was he crying because he was sorry, because he had lost a child? Or was he crying because he had been caught, because he was scared to death Irene would tell on him? He could be strong and intelligent and even brave, but now she saw him only as weak and stupid and cowardly. He suddenly wasn’t even handsome any more.
Someone gave her something bitter to drink, and soon the blessed blackness returned, that floating, other world where she didn’t have to think about what hurt, or think about the baby that would never be.
Irene could hear the celebrating in the streets, here and there a gunshot and a rowdy, rebel yell. The transcontinental railroad had been completed, and now the Denver Pacific.
“We have to be there,” Bea had told her of the party planned at the mansion. “We’ve had this planned for so long, darling. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
It had been three days since losing the baby, three days of hell and pain. She wanted her family with her, but, after all, there were other things to tend to. She knew they all loved and sympathized with her, but they didn’t really understand the magnitude of her grief, for it was grossly enhanced by the memory of what had caused her to lose the baby. Everyone thought she was despondent because of her loss, that her injuries had only made her even weaker. No one knew the secret grief she suffered.
Chad came to see her only because he had to appear to be the doting, concerned husband. He even put on a good show of grief, but he very wisely did not get too close. He knew his entire future and career hung by the thread of Irene’s choosing whether or not to tell the truth. She was not sure yet herself just what she would do about Chad. She was tempted to tell her parents everything, yet that seemed too childish. This was her problem, although she could not help resenting her mother for pushing so hard for the marriage in the first place.
In the Shadow of the Mountains Page 47
