“What are you getting at, Mansfield? Do you have a list of possible suspects? If so, let’s hear them. Otherwise, I can assure you, that the financial transactions in question were an isolated incident. There is nothing wrong with the way the mine is being managed,” Jack insisted as he defended himself. It was evident that Mansfield was on a campaign to convince Susannah to distrust him. Might she suspect him of being involved in Thomas’s death? It was a lowering thought, indeed. “Mr. Hoyt, did you discover any other irregularities?” Jack inquired.
“No,” was all the answer Hoyt gave.
But Mansfield would not leave the topic alone. He kept gnawing away at the bone. “You know, Susannah, I am to return home in a few days, however reluctant I am to do so. You may wish to have all future bank drafts co-signed by yourself, for peace of mind.” He spoke to Susannah as though Jack was not even in the room.
“Well…” Susannah began. “For peace of mind…”
“Is that really necessary?” Jack interrupted. “Thomas never co-signed the drafts.”
“What could possibly be wrong with my suggestion?” Mansfield asked. “Surely you have nothing to hide from Susannah.”
The conversation was not going well. Jack felt more and more like he was between a rock and a hard place. “Did you ever own a business, Mansfield?” he asked.
Of course he had never owned a business – the thought of work put him in a foul mood. But he would never admit the truth. “I run an estate, a successful sheep farm, that is business enough,” Edward smoothly replied.
“Having two co-signers for every transaction bogs things down,” said Jack.
But to Susannah this was a weak defense. She had doubts and thought Jack was withholding valuable information, hoarding the details as if they were gold nuggets. At the same time, she could plainly see that the war of words between Edward and Jack would come to no good if allowed to escalate further. So she spoke up. “Please stop your bickering,” she said with conviction, admonishing them both. “It is ungentlemanly. Let me think on it.” Susannah took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I can see how it might bog things down as you say, Jack. But all the same, Edward’s advice is sound. If I am to be an informed partner, I need to have knowledge of the expenses before the drafts are written. I must think on it.” These last words were directed at Jack and determination flickered in her gaze.
With this, Mansfield relaxed a fraction. Jack seemed satisfied with her decision. She would think on it and that was something. This meeting had given her a glimpse of what the future held if she pursued this path. The petite young artist in the plain black dress had put both of them on notice and had summed up her position very concisely. She was far more intelligent than he liked. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed two.
Susannah turned to Mr. Hoyt. “Thank you for your very detailed report and for spending so much time preparing it. You have been most helpful. I am sure I will be calling on you again very soon,” she said, extending her hand.
“You are most welcome,” Hoyt responded as he clasped her hand. Then with a slight bow, he added, “If there is nothing further, I will take my leave. Good day, Mrs. Sprague, gentlemen,” he said politely. He gathered up his papers and then let himself out.
Following Mr. Hoyt’s departure, there was a moment of awkward silence. “May I offer you gentlemen more lemonade?” Susannah asked politely. It was a hot day, too hot, and while she did not want to prolong this meeting, given the strained relations between Edward and Jack, she did want to convey her appreciation to both men for the many ways they had helped her.
“Thank you, Susannah, but I must be on my way,” Jack answered. Then, turning to Edward he said, “I wish you a safe journey on your trip home.” The men shook hands. “It’s nice to have made your acquaintance,” he lied.
“For me as well,” Edward said evenly. “Until next time,” he added, as if to warn Jack that his absence would not be permanent.
“Let me walk you out, Jack,” said Susannah as she stood. “And please know that I am most grateful to both of you for your guidance and support through all of this. You have been good friends. Your help has meant a lot to me.” Jack smiled and nodded.
“I am always at your service, Susannah,” said Edward.
Jack and Susannah left the parlor. “You are returning to the mine then?” Susannah asked.
“Yes, tomorrow, but only for a few days. I must check on the progress of the investigation. It will be a relief to escape from this heat. You may want to consider allowing me to escort you on a tour of the place, when you feel you are ready, of course. It might be helpful for you to see the business side of things. And this will give the managers and I the opportunity to answer any questions you may have,” said Jack. Although he was still resolved that a mining camp was no place for a woman, he had to accept that she was his partner now. It would be better for all concerned for Susannah to be as well informed as possible.
“That is a good suggestion,” she replied without making a commitment. Today had been very tiring, the information she received from Mr. Hoyt, overwhelming. She was not yet ready to delve deeper or obligate herself any further. Jack opened the door, ushering in a blast of hot air. His brown hair fell over his hard brow. His white linen shirt was opened slightly at the neck, exposing the perspiration on taut muscles. The faint shadow of a beard dusted his square jaw.
“What you did, to help the prostitutes, it was noble of you,” said Susannah.
“Then you approve?” he asked.
“Of course I approve. No man should ever be allowed to take his fist to a woman. I hope you catch the disgusting brute.”
“We are working on it,” Jack replied. He stared down at her with an intensity that was unnerving. “You must trust me, Susannah,” he added. “And please do not worry so. Take one day at a time.”
“There is much on my mind,” she admitted.
Jack stepped quietly through the doorway. His back was broad and muscular. Unexpectedly he turned around, facing her once more. “I failed to mention, the men and I took up a collection for Mr. Schultz’s widow, to help tide her over for a while until she decides what to do.”
Susannah was taken aback by this revelation – it was thoughtful, considerate, another surprising development. “That was very kindhearted of you and the others. So very generous. And I am sure she appreciated your help. When you return to town, perhaps you will accompany me to see her. It is past time for me to do that.”
“As you wish,” he said, as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He was leaving on a high note and hoped that perhaps he had redeemed himself as least somewhat, in her estimation. He closed the door and Susannah was left standing alone in the hallway.
Susannah stood there, rooted in the same spot for several moments, lost in contemplation. It was hot. The heat was starting to play tricks with her brain, causing her to have inappropriate thoughts and imaginings. It was the heat, of that she was sure. It was time to shed some of these insufferably hot clothes before she drowned in the excessive yards of fabric. She turned toward the stairs, but just then, Catori appeared in the hallway, her hand outstretched to reveal a letter.
“This came for you,” she said with a smile. “It was delivered while you were meeting in the parlor.”
Susannah took the missive and her countenance transformed into one of pleasant surprise and eager anticipation. “From Grandmamma!” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Catori. I believe Edward may still be in the parlor. Please convey my excuses and let him know I have gone up to rest.”
“Of course,” said Catori. “I will look in on you later.”
This letter was just what Susannah needed. It was a letter in earnest, not merely an abbreviated telegram. What Grandmamma had to say was always so encouraging. The mail was excruciatingly slow and she had only received one other letter from Grandmamma since Thomas’ death. Once in her bedchamber, she quickly dispensed with her day dress, uncomfortable corset and stockings. Cooler now
, and sitting on the bed in her petticoat and chemise, she anxiously tore open the letter.
My Dear Child,
The many brief telegrams that have passed between us recently have left me highly dissatisfied. What they offer in the convenience of a timely delivery, they sacrifice in their lack of any meaningful content.
I wish you to be in the same room with me for an extended conversation. It would do both of our hearts a great deal of good. You are in my thoughts always, but I cannot see you or talk with you as I so desire to do. Instead, I am left to worry and wonder about your mental state. It is some small relief to me that by a particular miracle of Providence, Edward and Charlotte are there to give their comfort and support. I also believe your Mr. Simmons to be a solid, dependable fellow.
When you have settled whatever affairs are most pressing as a result of this tragedy, please come home as soon as may be. You are all goodness and sweetness and you do not deserve this cruel heartbreak. We must face this sorrow together. I long to see you again and will be uneasy until you are safely returned to me.
You are always keen on news from home and I have very little to report except to say that our own Miss Parker is being regularly courted by a Mr. Griswold from the village. He is a tailor and a widower with two grown children. I have it on good authority that their courtship has taken a serious turn. I hope it is so. I long to offer my heartfelt congratulations for their future happiness.
Also, it did not escape my notice, while traveling to church on Sunday, that sections of Edward Mansfield’s fence have fallen into a sorry state of disrepair. It is most noticeable along Billingham Road. One can only attribute it to his having been away from home for an unexpected length of time. We must all be grateful to him as he has put his many other responsibilities aside in an effort to assist you in your hour of need.
Please consider thoughtfully the full import of your plans for the days and weeks ahead. We would both benefit greatly if allowed the opportunity to spend time together.
With much love, Grandmamma
She read the letter over again and could almost hear her Grandmother’s soft voice speaking the words. Of course Grandmother was right, it would do her a world of good to return home. By late afternoon she was seated at her writing desk, laboring over a reply. The intensity of the heat had eased up a bit. People would be sitting on their porches soon, waiting for nightfall to bring refreshing coolness.
Catori knocked at the bedroom door. “How is your Grandmother?” she asked.
“Grandmamma is well, but anxious for further news. I am attempting to reassure her in my answer,” she said, looking up from the writing desk. “But until the time comes that I travel back home, she will remain uneasy.”
“Yours is a very close bond. For both of your sakes, I hope you will be together again soon,” Catori said honestly. Somehow Catori always brought much needed clarity to any circumstance. “Although we are adults, our elders continue to be a valuable source of wisdom and insight. When we do not know where to turn, we must turn to them,” she continued.
“Yes,” Susannah agreed. “Grandmamma still refers to me as ‘my dear child’, to her I will always be thus, the delightful little girl.”
“The elderly often have a superior view of life’s experiences. They have given greater consideration to the spiritual ingredient that dwells in all of us. Theirs has been the grander journey, and we must make use of that understanding whenever we can,” Catori added.
“Grandmamma is serene, reflective. She leads an ordered life and endeavors to enjoy each new day, focused on things that matter – to stop and smell the flowers as we are advised to do. I am aware that recent events in my life have been disruptive to her as well. I must do a better job of following her example, and must do all I can to restore her equanimity.”
“It is your own equanimity that needs attention first. Your life has become topsy-turvy,” Catori observed as she took a seat by the window.
“Oh Catori,” she sighed, tears welling up. “Sometimes I don’t know what I am doing. I visit the cemetery and say a prayer over Thomas’ grave. But I don’t know how to go on.”
“No one does,” Catori said quietly.
“There are too many things needing my attention,” lamented Susannah. “As a result, I retreat and do nothing, like some over pampered wretch. This makes me appear weak in the eyes of others, like Mr. Mansfield. At every turn he feels he must be there to assist me in some way. I admit to being weak-willed recently, but I am certainly not weak, simply disappointed in myself.”
Catori had formed an unflattering view of the overbearing Edward Mansfield; she was suspicious of him. The abrupt departure of his employee Mr. Brophy, followed by his curiously timed return one week later, only to disappear again later that very day, was strange indeed. Also, Mansfield seemed to be keenly interested in Susannah’s financial well-being. Perhaps inordinately so. Catori also knew Susannah held him in high esteem, their friendship evidently had been established long ago. Susannah’s opinion of his good character elevated him in the eyes of others. And although she was herself unsure about Mansfield she kept her counsel. She would not be the one to cast the first stone.
“May I do something to help?” Catori asked.
“I do not know,” Susannah said honestly. “First there is the matter of Mr. Simmons and the mine. I must think on the level of involvement I envision for myself and then be straightforward with him.”
“My impression is that Mr. Simmons is rather particular. He probably likes to have things done a certain way, his way. However, I believe his concern for Thomas and for their joint enterprise was always beyond reproach. I think he is trustworthy,” Catori said reassuringly.
“I agree,” said Susannah.
Catori went further. “Many people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply. I think Mr. Simmons listens with the intent to understand.”
“I agree with you,” said Susannah. “I trust him. He has integrity. The widow of Mr. Schultz, the other miner who was killed, has also been on my mind. I must call on her, offer to help her in some way. She has a little boy, I understand, who is now without a father,” Susannah continued.
“Mrs. Sheppard and I can help you with that. We will put together an assortment of the most indispensable items, similar to what we do when new neighbors arrive and a ‘pound party’ is organized,” Catori suggested. It was true. Under happier circumstances, it was the local custom for established neighbors to welcome newcomers, with each bringing one pound of such staples as sugar, coffee, rice and beans and other necessities.
“I would be most grateful if you would do that,” said Susannah with some relief. “When Mr. Simmons returns in a few days, he will accompany the both of us to call on her. And now, I must dress for dinner. I have been neglecting my loyal friends from England. They are set to leave in two days and I would not have them continue to worry about me and my difficulties.”
Chapter Fourteen
Two days later, Edward Mansfield, his sister Charlotte and their two servants left Denver. The Kansas Pacific Railway was the only line with the superior comfort of Pullman cars. The train departed the station at 1:00 p.m. destined for Kansas City, Missouri. This first leg of their journey home was a distance of some 600 miles. Although Susannah was still not up to the task of entertaining or socializing, she had made an extra effort to dine with her guests the night before. The memorable meal prepared by Mrs. Sheppard included tomato bisque soup, followed by roast saddle of antelope and apple tandy. This made for a pleasant final evening.
Mansfield was pleased that he had executed his plan magnificently thus far. With Thomas out of the picture, he had formed a deeper friendship with Susannah, gained her trust and confidence and had openly displayed an admiration for her that was unambiguous. In addition, he had acquitted himself very well among some of her closest friends, including members of the Ladies Aide Society whom he sufficiently charmed with a cash donation shortly a
fter his arrival. It had been a high stakes game of intrigue and deception and it had been well played.
But his sojourn to Denver had not been without emotional pressure. The disagreeable and meddlesome Jack Simmons was a constant thorn in his side. Also, the trip had been an expensive one and he was running low on funds. Before arriving in Denver in late July, the Mansfield’s had already been traveling for a full month. It was now nearly September and would take at least 17 days before they were in England again. His payment to Brophy for services rendered was costly. And telegrams from home conveyed the troubling news that his estate was falling into further disrepair. He would be forced to sell off some of his sheep as a temporary solution.
As they sat in the parlor waiting for Charlotte to come down, Edward made full use of his final hour in Susannah’s home by pledging his continued loyalty and devotion to her well-being. “You must correspond regularly,” he insisted, “as will I. Send a telegram if something is urgent.”
“I promise to keep you informed, Edward,” Susannah reassured him.
“Please do not mistake my concern over your business dealings with Mr. Simmons as interference. I want only for you to protect your late husband’s investment. It is for your own future security and well-being,” he said convincingly.
“I know your efforts are well-intended,” she replied.
“I will call on your grandmother as soon as we are returned and give you a full report,” he continued, as they both stood.
Susannah was especially grateful to Edward at this pronouncement as she was always eager for news about Grandmamma. “You are too kind, Edward,” she said, clasping his hand. “It means a great deal to me that you have been such a steadfast friend. I appreciate all you have done.”
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