by Iris Kelly
“Again, Mrs. Harris, please accept our sincerest apologies. Please know that this will never happen again. Grace, you are dismissed immediately. Gather your things and be out of here in twenty minutes.”
Grace burst into tears, which Beatrice noticed resulted in a smirk of triumph from Mrs. Harris. Mr. Daniels held out a folded piece of paper to Grace.
“Take this to the head housekeeper. She’ll pay you the remaining wages you are due, minus these laundry expenses, of course. And don’t even think about references. We cannot vouch for such a clumsy girl. Now go.”
Grace grabbed the paper and ran off sobbing. Beatrice watched from afar. It was criminal how much pleasure Mrs. Harris took in her power to destroy the poor girl’s life. The future hardships and uncertainties of a destitute girl would never trouble her thoughts.
At the bottom of the stairs, in the servants’ quarters, Grace wiped away her tears and opened the note to find out how much money she was taking away. She read with astonishment:
You are not dismissed. Stay out of sight below stairs until Thursday afternoon, after Mrs. Harris has checked out of the hotel.
Grace couldn’t hold back a fresh burst of tears. Happy tears of dumbfounded relief and gratitude, for she knew that Miss Kirby had been behind this reprieve.
*****
It was while she was window shopping that Beatrice felt a large presence by her side and looked up to find herself standing by the loathsome Zachary Scott.
“Lovely hats, ain’t they?” he said with a sinister sneer.
“Do you require hats in your line of business?”
“Now, that’s exactly what I wanted to have a word with you about. My business. My girls. Where are they? And don’t pretend like you don’t know.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Beatrice could see Ajax crossing the street, striding in her direction. She put up a hand to let him know not to interrupt. She was more than up to this fight.
“Where is who?”
“Junebug and Tilly, that’s who.”
“You don’t even remember her real name, do you?”
“Her name is what I tell her her name is.”
“She is a free woman now, Mr. Scott, and she can go by any name she pleases.”
“Where is she?”
“Honestly, I have no idea of her exact whereabouts. I don’t need to know. I just hope that she is safe and happy.”
Zachary gave her a threatening look.
“Where’s the lawyer?”
“Are you in need of a lawyer?”
“He disappeared same time they did.”
“Life is full of strange coincidences.”
“Nah. Ain’t no coincidence. Someone’s interferin’ with my business, and I ain’t gonna stand for it. He and I are gonna have some things to discuss when he gets back.”
“You aren’t thinking clearly, Mr. Scott. Perhaps you are still in the throes of grief after one of your “girls” was so brutally murdered.”
Zachary bristled at the mention of the incident, and Beatrice gave Ajax a signal to approach.
“You and the lawyer don’t want me for an enemy.”
“Hah! We wouldn’t want you for a friend. I can’t see us being anything other than enemies.”
Ajax stared daggers into Zachary and gently pulled Beatrice away.
*****
Avery stepped down into the train platform and let out an exhausted sigh of relief. What a long journey it had been. Thank goodness, it had been a successful one. All legal obstacles had been swiftly resolved in Kansas City for Harriet to receive her inheritance—and a healthy one it was, too, at just over four thousand dollars. It was the long cross-country trip afterward that was really the ordeal, wanting so badly as he did to get back to Beatrice.
But as naive and vulnerable as Harriet was, he had to make sure that the money was safely transferred to a bank in her new home. He saw her and Tilly settled into a good apartment, and he even helped them locate a reasonably priced location for Harriet’s shop, with a good amount of window shoppers strolling by. And he helped her to locate the wholesale suppliers she would need to get started. All in all, it was not only the new start that Beatrice would have approved of, it was the start that Harriet deserved, for it was impossible to spend two weeks in her company without taking an interest in her well-being. Tilly, as well—so young.
Now, it was time to tend to his own happiness. How he would love to head straight for her hotel, but he really did need to stop in his office first, then home to wash up. And there was no telling where she would be anyway, at this time of day. Perhaps Ajax would know. On second thought, Ajax should definitely know, if he was true to his word.
As Avery strolled down Main Street toward his office, he was stopped time and time again by friends and acquaintances who wanted to sing the praises of Miss Kirby! What a lovely addition he had brought to their town. What interesting ideas she had—just what this town needs. How did he find such a fascinating creature? When was the happy news going to be announced?
He was humming with delight as he rifled through the mail on his office desk. He had asked a rival lawyer to take over a few of his obligations while he was out of town, so there were no terribly pressing matters.
“Back in town, are you?” Zachary boomed from the doorway.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Scott?”
“You can tell me where Junebug is. And don’t insult my intelligence.”
“Junebug is in Kansas City.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Did you really never ask her where she was from?”
“All right. Okay. I remember somethin’ about Kansas City. Well, I gotta get a hold of her. She owes me money.”
“That’s a lie.”
“She stole money right out of my pocket.”
“Oh, in that case, you’ll be needing a bounty hunter and an attorney. Good luck.”
Avery gathered his things and faced Zachary at the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have pressing matters to attend to.”
Zachary grudgingly made way. “That Miss Kirby of yours. She one of those pressin’ matters you need to attend to?”
He laughed at Avery’s incensed expression. “Or maybe it’s just a good night of sleep you need to come back to your senses. One way or another, both of you lovebirds is gonna come back to your senses and restore to me what is mine.”
Content with that ominous threat, he left Avery, who was frantically trying to think of the fastest way to find Miss Kirby. He raced over to the Sheriff’s Office.
Sheriff Johnson was at his desk reading the daily newspaper. He was a no-nonsense lawman, sixty years of age and, being pragmatically similar in temperament, he and Avery usually had no trouble seeing eye to eye.
“Where’s Deputy Harper?” Avery said, with no pretense of a cordial greeting.
“Over at a ladies’ association meeting. Assembly room in the Dorchester Hotel. He’s seein’ how the other half lives, that’s for sure. Don’t you worry. She couldn’t be in better hands.”
Avery nodded thanks and headed straight for the Dorchester Hotel. He didn’t have the patience to go home. His request for the location of the ladies’ association meeting didn’t raise a single eyebrow at the front desk. He entered the room quietly, from the back entrance. A packed audience of over a hundred ladies were present. Ajax sat at a small table in the back, enjoying a coffee and a danish. He waved Avery over to sit with him.
From the middle of the audience, Beatrice was on her feet, speaking to the ladies in the front, and the crowd was quiet, listening to her.
“I’m only a newcomer here, and I won’t pretend to know your city as well as you all do. But I love it already, and I do so want to make it my home.”
There were flattered murmurs of approval. Here was a young lady who certainly had the best interests of the town at heart.
“It’s a wonderful thing to know that statehood is around the corner, and hopefully, it will bring with it some exc
iting changes and opportunities. But I don’t think you want to just sit on your hands and wait. There are all kinds of things that need to be taken care of right now. You’ve got some big fundraisers planned, but as I understand, not all of the funds have been dedicated yet. I wish you’d give some serious consideration to my suggestion.”
“A home for wayward girls?” a lady at the front of the room asked.
“Yes. They had one in Boston, and I think it would do a world of good to have one here. Orphanages are fine, but they don’t take care of the girls who are sixteen or eighteen and have no resources to build their life with. Or the ones who are from bad homes and have run away. They’re the ones who will wind up in the brothels, which you have worried are spreading like weeds. Can’t we try to provide an avenue to protect and educate and direct those girls toward honorable employment?”
Avery watched with dazed pride as Beatrice led the well-meaning but self-absorbed group through the fundamentals of her proposal. And she never forgot to phrase it in terms of how it would benefit them—a more reputable, less morally corrupt city—with an elevated reputation back in the States.
After the meeting ended, the room was slow to empty. Beatrice had a swarm of well-wishers to contend with, and half a dozen invitations to jot down. It was only as she approached the exit and looked for Ajax that she saw Avery there.
So much time had passed since they last saw one another. Avery knew that she would want to hear about what happened on his trip, and there was so much to tell. He also could hardly wait to hear what had happened to her in his absence. So much to talk about, so much to worry about, but as they drew closer, Avery was so gratified at the joy in Beatrice’s eyes that the plan of catching up faded away.
“Miss Kirby. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Beatrice threw herself into his arms. Enough of the crowd had been close enough to hear the proposal, and they quickly spread the word of the momentous occasion in progress. Normally, such a public embrace would be seen as an unacceptable breach of propriety. But this was, after all, an honorable betrothal, and to be honest, a rather thrilling thing to witness.
Considerately, the crowd departed and gave them a few moments of privacy. Ajax left with a big grin. His services were no longer needed.
“May I take this as a yes?” Avery asked.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
They were reluctant to surrender the moment, but the hotel cleaning staff was hovering outside the door.
“Shall we tell the Carlyles?” Avery asked.
“Yes! They must be the first to know,” Beatrice said.
As Avery and Beatrice strolled slowly down Main Street, it occurred to them that their dear friends, the Carlyles, might be among the last to know. It was as if a town crier had paved the way in front of them. There were big, sentimental smiles and congratulations all the length of the street. What a small town. What a wonderfully small town. It was almost like being surrounded by family.
Lewis and Virginia were at home, of course, as people with babies usually are.
“The prodigal lawyer returns,” Lewis greeted him. “You had us all a bit worried.”
“Nonsense. He had every reason to return as soon as possible,” Virginia said.
“One reason was sufficient. We are engaged to be married.”
What a flurry of celebration. Virginia hugged Beatrice, then hugged Avery, then hugged her own husband, and then had to repeat the sequence. Avery almost had his arm pumped off by Lewis with an endless hearty handshake, which was eventually abandoned in favor of a big, brotherly hug. The baby was squealing with delight—she could tell that a delightful party was around her.
Beatrice and Avery were moved beyond words to have others care so much about their happiness. They both had lived for so long outside the true embrace of family.
“This is an occasion for champagne,” Lewis declared. “So you must exercise strong powers of imagination, for all we have is red wine.”
No one could have wished for anything to be altered from that evening, least of all the wine. In the midst of almost unbearable joy, Beatrice had just one painful thought. Everyone in the room knew about her secret past—everyone except the man to whom she would soon pledge her lifelong loyalty and trust.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
An engagement gift was in order. There were several jewelers in town, but Avery really ought to ride down to Denver for the widest selection. He had no intention of parting from Beatrice again, though. She should come with him and pick out the item herself. Still, he could peruse the shop windows and see if any ideas came to mind.
As he glanced across the street, he saw a sight that momentarily erased more pleasant thoughts from his mind. It was Raymond Winters, the mine owner he was preparing a lawsuit against, and Zachary Scott, the brothel owner. It was a startling sight, coming from vastly different social circles as they did.
But when they turned and looked in his direction and continued to converse, it occurred to him that these two strange bedfellows had come together united against a common enemy—one Avery Martin. And now he was about to find out the point of this assembly, for they were heading straight toward him. Zachary’s reference to Beatrice came back to mind, and Avery felt his jaw tighten.
“You gentlemen surprise me,” Avery said. “I didn’t think either one of you had any friends.”
“Oh, but Mr. Scott has many friends. Perhaps we should call them associates. They are rough men and can be called upon when persuasive action is required. So listen carefully. You’re going to go to those miners’ families and tell them you’re not going to be pursuing that lawsuit for them. Insufficient evidence or some such excuse. I’m sure you can come up with something,” Mr. Winters instructed.
“Found someone else to get their hands dirty, did you?” Avery said.
“I’m not letting anyone jeopardize a business I worked so hard to build.”
“And yet you didn’t hesitate to try and bankrupt Sebastian Knight’s business, just for telling the truth.”
“Speaking of business, I’ve gone from twelve girls down to nine,” Zachary snarled. “That’s a lot of money missin’ from my pocket. So, I’m gonna be needin’ some very detailed information on the whereabouts of my two favorite gals. Otherwise, I’m sure you would hate for your favorite gal to meet with any misfortune. Am I makin’ myself clear?”
“Oh, he understands. That’s quite apparent from the look on his face. I’m confident that both of these difficulties can be resolved by the end of the day. See you soon, Mr. Martin.”
It was one thing to have threats against himself. They were quite serious threats, and just fifteen years earlier, Cheyenne’s lawlessness had led to such a high murder rate, the gravediggers couldn’t even keep up. I hope you never become important enough to kill. Hopefully a joke that would not turn into prophecy.
But by bringing Beatrice into their threats—they had no idea what he was willing to do to protect her. Unconsciously, he flexed his trigger finger. Was it really going to come down to that? He forced his mind to stop racing. What needed to be done?
He headed to his office and quickly piled up the evidence for the miners’ case. He began to draft a long letter, made three complete copies of it, and stuffed each into a separate envelope. He first headed to the Sheriff’s Office, where he heatedly conveyed the threats of Winters and Scott. Then he headed for the post office.
He would have told Beatrice to stay confined to her hotel room, but he knew that she had already left to spend the afternoon with Lydia Cooper’s family to tell them the good news. If only he knew exactly when to expect her back.
*****
The day passed slowly. In a morose frame of mind, Avery updated his will. There was no telling what would happen, and he wanted to make sure that dear Beatrice would be his beneficiary.
He was both relieved and alarmed to see her and Ajax come into the office near the end of the day.
“Beatrice. You shouldn’
t be here. Deputy!”
“I know what you done told me. I tried to get her over to the Carlyles or back to the hotel so she’d be out of sight. But she wouldn’t pay me no mind. She had to come over.”
“Don’t blame Ajax. Of course I had to come. We face this together now, no matter what.”
Avery watched in wonderment as Beatrice came to his side and reached for his hand.
“I’m gonna go and find myself a nice seat somewhere across the street,” Ajax said.
He left, and Beatrice glanced at the will on the desk in front of Avery. She shook her head in alarmed disbelief.
“These men are dangerous, with little regard for human life,” Avery said. “I need you to be safe.”
“But don’t you know how much I need you to be safe?”
Avery took her hand and pulled her closer. Beatrice gladly allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap, where they rested wordlessly with their arms wrapped around one another, foreheads touching. There they remained for a long, long time until they were interrupted, and they leapt to their feet, startled.
“Well, look who we got here. The lady’s decided to join us,” Zachary said from the door.
Mr. Winters was right behind him. “I think that means we’re about to hear some good news.”
“Good or bad is beside the point,” Avery said. “I intend to give you a factual assessment of the situation. Both of you have blood on your hands. It’s called criminal negligence, and it’s enough to land both of you in prison for a very long time. Or worse, depending on the jury.
Mr. Winters, you were told by three different engineers and suppliers that your mine was a certainty to cave in. That’s a lot of damning testimony. I want five thousand dollars apiece for the families of each of those miners, and full safety precautions built into that mine before the next accident happens, whatever the expense. And you’re to drop the lawsuit against Sebastian Knight.”
“Oh, you don’t want much, do you?”
“It’s an open and shut case. The worst lawyer in the world could put you behind bars. As it so happens, I know some of the best lawyers. I sent three of them the particulars of this case, complete with witnesses, evidence and testimony. If anything should happen to me, they are all loyal friends of mine, and the case against you will proceed—with a vengeance, one might say.”
