The conversation drifted to the men’s shared interest in coin collecting, something Rosalind found as engrossing as old shoe leather, but it was nice to see Gus enjoying himself, and her relief that no one was trying to push her out of the company was palpable. She was lucky to have stumbled into this opportunity, even though she and Elmore Kleneman could not be more different. While she came from an old and established family, Elmore’s wealth was entirely new.
Like Nick’s. What a difference in the way Elmore and Nick were raising their family. Elmore’s passel of six children were dressed in normal play clothes and ate the kind of food typical of any working-class household. It was much like her own upbringing, rich in experiences rather than material goods. Her parents provided music lessons and hikes through the forest for bird-watching. Their house contained musical instruments and books on every topic under the sun.
As soon as Peter left, she turned to Gus. “Do you ever wonder what our parents would think of how we turned out?” To the bottom of her soul, she hoped they would be proud.
“Not really,” Gus said gently. “They seem so far away to me.”
“I suppose so.” But she couldn’t help looking up at the sky—a beautiful, cloudless sky—and praying they were out there, still looking down on them and proud of what she and Gus had managed to become.
I still remember you, she thought as she scanned the brilliant, sheltering sky. And I thank God for the wonderful foundation you gave us. A thousand times, thank you.
It was nice to imagine the gentle breeze was perhaps a message from Mama and Papa, that they were there, and that they heard her.
Chapter
Eleven
Nick’s new position as commissioner of the State Water Board came with a top-floor office and a commanding view of the East River. As Nick stared out his office window, he figured most people would see the monumental Brooklyn Bridge or the majestic buildings that climbed higher into the sky each year.
He didn’t. When he looked at the city, he saw every manhole cover and sewer drain, instantly remembering the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city streets. The most impressive monuments in New York weren’t the skyscrapers, the bridges, or the park system that was the envy of the world. No, the most impressive engineering feat of this city was the underground system of tunnels and pumps that brought millions of gallons of water in and out of the island each day. That infrastructure was invisible to most people; never to him.
As hard as he’d fought for this appointment, the reality of the job was daunting. New York City was running out of water, and a mammoth new reservoir was about to break ground upstate. On its face, his job involved coordinating the politicians, engineers, and labor union officials to complete the next stage of the water tunnels.
In actuality, it involved uprooting thousands of people, destroying their livelihoods, and forcing them off their land in order to quench New York’s thirst for water. Five towns were going to be wiped off the map in order to create the reservoir, and Nick was the man responsible for the wiping. He’d be a naïve idiot if he didn’t realize his reputation for bare-knuckle toughness had been the primary consideration for his appointment. The coming year was going to be a rough ride as he laid the groundwork for the reservoir. People liked him in Manhattan; they hated him in upstate New York.
Nevertheless, someone had to do the job, and he had the backbone to see it through. Three times a week, he met with his two fellow commissioners. The governor insisted that the water board be headed by a team of three commissioners to avoid any hint of corruption. Fortunately, Nick liked and respected his colleagues. General Mike O’Donnell, who had earned his renown as a sanitary engineer during the Spanish-American War, was the commissioner for engineering, and Fletcher Jones was the commissioner of finance responsible for the mind-boggling task of figuring out how to pay for a project that was going to be second only to the Panama Canal in terms of size and scope.
On the weekends, Nick tried to fit in a golf game with his fellow commissioners or other men involved in the water project. Golf was a stupid sport he loathed and would never play again if he didn’t love it so much. He’d taken private lessons a couple of years ago when he realized how much business was conducted on a golf course.
On Saturday morning, he headed out to enjoy a game with some colleagues in the water business. Given the looming expiration of Dr. Leal’s ninety-day extension, conversation eventually worked its way to the court case.
“The city’s budget is in limbo until the judge issues his final ruling over their new water system,” Jake Paulson said. Jake was in charge of sanitation for Jersey City and had worked closely with Nick during the court case. “Even if we win a complete victory, I expect the water company to declare bankruptcy before they build another filtration plant. They can’t afford it.”
Nick did his best to ignore the chatter as he aligned himself over the ball. The driver made a satisfying slice through the air as the ball shot heavenward, tracing a graceful arc and bouncing onto the green. He’d shot wide. Probably because his concentration had been ruined by the discussion about that court case. Anything involving Rosalind could completely shatter his concentration, but in a good way.
“I would never underestimate Dr. Leal,” General O’Donnell said. “If anyone can figure out a way to turn in a coherent argument, it’s Leal.”
The trio began walking down the fairway for their next shot, but the conversation soured quickly.
“I admire Dr. Leal, but what do you think about that woman who works in his lab?” Jake’s voice was light as he answered his own question. “She’s pretty, I’ll grant you that . . . but who would want to make love to an iceberg?”
“Apparently she’s no iceberg,” General O’Donnell said. “Rumor has it they have a spot in the Florida Keys where they spend two weeks every spring. Seaside fishing, frolicking in the sun, or whatever else a man does on a tropical island with his research assistant.”
“That’s a lie,” Nick said. The words lashed out before he could stop them, but he couldn’t stand here and listen to Rosalind be smeared like this.
General O’Donnell chuckled as he lined up for his next stroke. “Everyone says Dr. Leal is as sober as a monk, but come on, man. He’s been a widower for almost a decade. A man doesn’t hire an assistant who looks like that if he isn’t sneaking a little on the side.”
It went against everything Nick knew about Rosalind. Her prim demeanor, her forthright honesty. The idea of her sneaking off for trysts with her employer seemed too seedy for someone as straitlaced as Rosalind. Then again, maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to believe.
He stepped forward to take his shot. With two prominent men in the water industry and three caddies standing nearby, he had to handle this carefully. Rosalind’s reputation hung in the balance.
“Slander is an ugly salvo,” he said. “Dr. Werner is an attractive woman, and Dr. Leal is a man with eyes in his head, but it’s ridiculous to use those facts to spin a vulgar story about two honorable people.”
Silence settled over the fairway as he hit the ball with a gentle snick. For the rest of the game, there was no more scandalous gossip about Rosalind.
But he thought about it the entire afternoon.
Nick headed straight for the subway the instant the game was over. What he’d heard this afternoon could be only malicious gossip, but maybe not. Rosalind swore there was nothing between her and Dr. Leal, but it did seem unusual for a man and a woman to work so closely in a wholly platonic fashion. What red-blooded man could work alongside a woman like Rosalind and not let it affect him? Nick had been attracted to her within three seconds, and Dr. Leal had been working with her for three years.
Rosalind was free to dally with whomever she chose; she’d made no promises to him. But what he’d heard on the golf course infuriated him. Either Rosalind was catting around with her business partner, or two men he respected were smearing the reputation of an innocent woman. Both were galling. He wouldn
’t be able to rest until he gave Rosalind a chance to defend herself. And he knew exactly where she’d be. With the clock ticking on their ninety-day extension, Rosalind had been working seven days a week to expedite their research.
He’d worked himself into a twist by the time he approached the squat building housing her lab, so he stood for a few moments outside her door, forcing himself to breathe at a normal rate. If there was any truth to the rumor, he’d accept it. He had no right to probe into her private life, but from their first few minutes together in Sal’s Diner, he’d jumped to all sorts of conclusions about her. That she was smart and brimming with integrity and, well . . . pure. Pretty as a moonbeam.
He knocked on the door of the lab and entered without waiting for an answer. Rosalind sat at a table, her back ramrod straight as she made notes on a pad. Mercifully, she was alone. This conversation would have been much more awkward with Dr. Leal in the room.
She was wearing her spectacles but took them off when she spotted him. “Nick,” she said as she rose. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon. I’ve been worrying that I offended you.”
He bit off a cynical laugh and looked away. Their tiff in the park seemed so frivolous now.
“Because offending you was the last thing in the world I intended,” she continued. “It’s obvious you dote on your daughter, but cleanliness is important—”
“I’m not here about Sadie.”
“Oh.”
Her gaze darted over the open notebooks spread across the laboratory table. He had no idea what her daily work involved, but it seemed as if a pile of paperwork had exploded across the work surface, the pages dense with charts, maps, and equations. Stacks of index cards littered a table in front of racks filled with test tubes. Some had clear liquid inside, others looked like they held dirt.
“Let me put a few things away,” she said hastily, closing the notebooks and then reaching for a cloth to drape over the test tubes. She’d done the same the last time he paid an unexpected visit. Perhaps it was some sort of laboratory procedure to close everything down when stepping away from an experiment.
He rubbed the back of his neck, scrambling for a delicate way to start this conversation. “I played golf this morning,” he said awkwardly.
“Yes?” She sounded startled. Golf was a snooty game only country club people played, and she was probably surprised he knew how to swing a club.
“Yeah. I mostly hate it, but I kind of love it too. Anyway, it’s good business. I get a chance to talk to people in the government and industry I should know.” He moved a few steps farther into the lab. He hadn’t changed clothes from this morning and felt a little grubby and clumsy, especially since he was about to dig into her private life, but he had to know. “Anyway, I was playing with one of the other commissioners. He used to be a sanitary engineer in the army—”
“General O’Donnell?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Dr. Leal does. I’ve never formally met him, but I’ve read his reports and am familiar with his work. His development of sanitary procedures for mobile army encampments is extraordinary.”
He wondered if she would be so complimentary if she knew the filth O’Donnell spread about her behind her back.
“They were talking about Dr. Leal. And you.”
The color dropped from her face, and she went very still. It looked like she suspected what he was getting at, and it made his chest tighten. He didn’t want it to be true.
“What were they saying?” she asked stiffly.
“That Dr. Leal has a hideaway in the Florida Keys. That you go with him.”
“That’s a lie,” she snapped. “He takes his son to Florida every summer, but I have never accompanied him. I’ve never socialized with Dr. Leal outside of work. Ever. I don’t even call him by his first name, and we’ve been working together for three solid years.” Her words came rapidly. “I don’t know how to fend off this sort of talk. I make sure to dress conservatively. I don’t flirt or discuss personal issues, I confine myself to discussions about science.” Her voice was high and fast, shaking in agitation.
“If you deny it, I believe you.”
But it seemed she hadn’t heard. She paced the aisle between the tables, both hands clenched. “People talk and gossip, and I don’t know how to stop it. I didn’t do anything to cause this, and still the wagging tongues stir up poison.”
“I’ll tell them it’s hogwash. If they don’t stop spreading rumors, I’ll sue them for slander.” He had no idea if he could sue on someone else’s behalf, but he had plenty of money and would do anything to soothe her agitation. He wished he’d never raised this subject, because he’d rather plunge his own hand into a fire than cause her a moment of pain.
She stopped and looked at him, her face cynical. “And do you think suing them will repair my reputation?”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Wrong. It will pour gasoline on the fire and ruin my professional standing, just like it did in Germany.”
His brows lowered. “What happened in Germany?”
Her shoulders sagged, and it looked like she aged ten years. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said softly, reaching for a shawl. “I need to get out. Go for a walk. Thank you for telling me, but I need to be alone right now.”
She headed for the door, and he followed.
“I’ll walk with you.” He wasn’t going to leave her in this mood. Guilt washed through him for bringing the gossip to her attention.
“Please don’t.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t just walk away when you’re miserable and it’s all my doing.”
A set of keys jangled as she locked the door to the laboratory. He followed her down the hall and stepped out into the sunshine, after which she locked that door too. Her hand remained on the handle even after she locked it, and she kept her back to him.
“I’m asking you to please go away,” she said. “I’ll be perfectly fine, but I need a little fresh air, and walking always helps.” She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes clear but full of anguish. “Please.”
He was helpless to deny her anything. Letting her go off alone went against every instinct in his body, but he’d done enough damage for the day. He nodded, loitering by the closed doorway.
He’d give her space, but she was fooling herself if she thought he’d abandon her.
Rosalind walked the quarter mile to the candy factory. It smelled like maple fudge this afternoon. Normally she liked it, but it seemed cloyingly sweet today. Or maybe she’d feel nauseated no matter what the factory made. She braced her hands on the top of the picket fence and struggled to control her breathing.
Did the rumors spring up on their own, or had gossip from Germany finally arrived on American shores? She swallowed hard and leaned her elbows on the waist-high fence, watching men from the factory wheel crates out of the warehouse. The rumors were the least of her concerns. More worrisome was whether she had made the right decision in secretly chlorinating the water without the population’s knowledge or consent.
This was the second time Nick had surprised her while she was calculating the effect of chlorine on local soil samples. Now that the feed system had been in place for two weeks, some of that water was being used to irrigate local farms. Dr. Leal had been diligently gathering samples, and she tested them for residual traces of chlorine in the soil. It was drastically different work than what she’d been doing a month ago, and a trained researcher would be able to spot it. Had Nick?
It took ten minutes for the men to load the wagon, and she didn’t move a muscle as she watched. The factory’s lot was a grassy, tree-shaded patch of land amidst the urban environment. When she closed her eyes, the rustling of leaves and green scent in the air reminded her of happier times in Germany. Back before her world fell apart.
Well. Standing here wasn’t going to repair the damage, and she had more soil samples to analyze. Sh
e pushed away from the fence and straightened her blouse.
And saw Nick Drake, leaning against a fence post ten yards away.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.
He closed the distance between them. “A while. You okay?” He settled in beside her along the fence.
“Yes.” She turned to face the candy factory again, unexpectedly moved by the protective kindness on his face. “Sometimes you work so hard toward a goal, and it can all come collapsing down so quickly.”
“Are you talking about what happened in Germany?”
“Yes.” And maybe it would happen here too. At least Dr. Leal wasn’t married.
“You can tell me about it, if you want. I won’t judge.” His offer was plainly spoken, his eyes soft.
Still she hesitated. A vibrant sense of kinship hummed between them, but that didn’t mean she could trust him.
“Rosalind, whatever it is, just tell me. The good Lord knows I’m nowhere close to being perfect.”
Nick was so straightforward, but beneath his plainspoken and rough demeanor, he was endlessly kind and supportive. And she wanted to tell him. She had so many secrets and regrets bottled up inside, but this was one she could release.
“I went to college in Heidelberg,” she said, her mind traveling back to those enchanted years in the deeply forested valleys and steep fields of grapes. She was eleven when she and Gus were sent to the Bavarian countryside after their grandfather died. Her father’s brother lived in an old half-timbered farmhouse, and he and his family raised cows. Soon she and Gus were milking cows and making cheese alongside her cousins, and before long they spoke German well enough to fit in. Her German relatives lived simply but were rich in both land and investments.
While the family worked the farm, her uncle taught chemistry at Heidelberg University. Rosalind had been enchanted by the medieval university, with its gothic architecture and red-tiled roofs. Whenever she imagined what paradise looked like, she saw Heidelberg University.
A Daring Venture Page 13
