Excitement rose up his chest. He pointed to the kitchen plan. “It’s large enough for training culinary skills—”
Tilly’s front paws plopped on the table. At once the rendering of the Home’s exterior was clamped between her jaws. As one, Daniel and Josie reached for the paper, but the terrier scuttled under a chair.
“Naughty dog,” cried Mrs. Price.
Daniel still had rough sketches at his office, but it would be easier if he didn’t have to redo these. As he and Josie chased Tilly around the sofa, she glanced at him. “Sorry.”
“It’s nobody’s fault.” He chased the terrier to the corner, an inescapable spot. He gripped the dog’s thick midsection and lifted. Then Josie knocked into him and pain struck his right shoulder. Tilly was lost, but Josie in his arms was far more preferable anyway.
“Sorry,” she repeated. Her cheeks were pink from the exertions, a most becoming addition to her already pretty features.
“Don’t be. Anything hurt?”
Mrs. Price cackled, still curled in her chair. “Just her pride. You are being bested by a terrier. Perhaps you should have a strategy.”
Tilly wriggled behind the damask drapes. “Agreed.” Daniel glanced at Josie. “You catch her when I—”
Poking her head out from the curtains like a shy actor onstage, Tilly spat out the papers with a noisy retch.
“Oh dear.” Josie picked up the tattered remnants and met Daniel’s gaze. Her lips trembled, but not from mortification. Oh, she tried to look sorry, compressing her lips and shaking her head, but then a giggle burst out. “I was about to say how delightful that dogs approve of your sketches, but now Tilly won’t even eat them.”
“And she’s always hungry.” Daniel sighed.
Josie burst into laughter. Tilly yipped in response, and Daniel was overcome by the silliness of it all. He laughed until his ribs hurt.
Tears streamed Josie’s cheeks. She was so full of life. Daniel’s laughter died, although his smile pained his cheeks. He loved her. He had for a long time, and being with her strengthened his admiration. But she didn’t think of him that way. And it hurt.
“What has come over you two?” Mrs. Price tutted. “See if the page can be salvaged.”
Wiping her cheeks, Josie resumed her seat and laid out the mess. Humpty Dumpty had fewer broken pieces. Oh well. What was another night without sleep, when he could spend more time with Josie?
“Care for a puzzle, Jo?” He lowered himself into his seat, but at the last minute, he peeked at the cushion. Good thing, for Thisbe curled on the chair.
Josie patted the sofa beside her. Even better.
They set to work. He should be finishing the Humphries Competition. And tomorrow he must train for his cycling race, if there would even be one now that Wilson had proven unavailable. Daniel also needed to speak to more girls seeking his attentions, before anyone else got hurt. Goldie Addis hadn’t taken his rejection at his word. Olive Gloss and Estelle York still pursued him, too. He must try again, and be blunt.
But right now, he was happy, and the desire to enjoy the moment burned bright. After such a perfect night, there could only be clear skies ahead.
Chapter 5
Yoo-hoo.” A feminine cry pierced the June morning fog, interrupting Daniel’s conversation with Harvey. They hadn’t felt so carefree in months, but finishing the Humphries plans yesterday—two days early—had allowed them their first good night’s sleep in weeks. Last night, he didn’t dream of placing the tower or adjusting the layout. The pen-and-ink plans were completed, and last night he’d taken the plans to Josie’s and spread them on the dining room table. She’d admired and gushed about them, as he’d hoped.
But she was always an encouragement.
Now he and Harvey strode down California Street for an appointment. Later they would conduct a detailed review of their university plans, and tomorrow they’d submit them to Mrs. Humphries’s solicitor by noon.
“Mr. Blair?” The feminine voice called again.
“Methinks I hear a huntress,” Harvey teased.
Estelle York, if Daniel recognized the voice aright. He grimaced at Harvey. “You don’t need to enjoy this so much.”
“Sure I do.” But Harvey’s chuckle died when Estelle met them, smelling of tuberose and wearing a black-and-white-striped dress. A faint tinge of pink colored the skin above Harvey’s collar—shaving rash or enamored blush, Daniel couldn’t tell. But it could be fun to find out.
He doffed his hat. Beside him, Harvey’s posture was stiff as a pine plank. “Good morning. You’ve met Mr. Whitstone?”
“Yes.” Estelle offered Harvey her gloved hand. The pink splotches rose up Harvey’s neck to his cheeks. She turned back to Daniel. “How’s Moppet’s girl?”
“Who?” Harvey’s voice cracked.
“The cat.” Daniel returned his gaze to Estelle. “Growing and content. Mrs. Beake didn’t relent on her rules against animals, so a friend has her for now.”
Estelle’s eyes narrowed. “Who, might I ask?”
“The Price family, but should you like her returned, I will fetch her for you at once.”
Estelle’s face blotched into color. “No. She was a gift.”
Daniel was weary. And late. And bad at telling girls thank you, but no. But God had given him an opportunity this morning. “May I have a moment?”
When she nodded, he led her into a shop’s alcove for a bit of privacy. And safety from the California Street Cable Railroad cars passing at regular intervals. Give me wisdom, Lord. “Since that advertisement came out about me, a few ladies in town have had their eyes on the cash prize. I am not suggesting you are one of them, but I must make it known, my heart is not available at present.”
Her chuckle was watery. “So Josephine Price wins the reward?”
That wasn’t what he meant. He’d meant he found the contest intolerable, not that anyone had won. But Estelle spoke true.
He and Josie had spent time together almost every day since Tilly ate his rendering, riding cycles, dining at the Palace Hotel with Pablo and Fannie, and attending a church social—and he’d worked longer hours as a result to complete the Humphries plans.
But he’d do it again. Last night, after he’d showed her the completed Humphries plans, they’d celebrated with a cutthroat game of Parcheesi with her parents. The past week had been the most enjoyable of his memory.
Josie tolerated his company, however, for the sake of their bargain. He should release her from it. It would be the right thing to do, even if the thought of his life without her twisted something in his gullet.
He tugged at his too-tight tie. “Nobody wins. It’s not a contest. It’s a trick. I’m sorry.”
Jeweled tears clung to her lashes. He withdrew his handkerchief, which she took at once. Dabbing her nose, she sniffed. “Thank you for your honesty. I shall extend the same courtesy to you. Please don’t tell anyone, but it’s the thousand dollars. My parents’ circumstances are reduced.” She closed her eyes. “I am relieved the charade is over. Not that you are not a fine man, Mr. Blair. But we do not know one another well.”
How bad must things be for her at home? “Is there something I can do?”
“Not unless you can buy our house and find us something less opulent, but by no means less elegant, to ease Mother’s mortification.”
“I can make discreet inquiries on available homes. Or, when your parents are ready, I can design something for them, if they like. At my cost.” Now that he’d finished the Humphries plans, time was ample.
Her brows scrunched. “Why would you help us like that?”
“I should like to be friends.”
Her smile was small but genuine. “Me, too.”
Behind her, Harvey watched with narrowed eyes and a tight grip on his folio—ah, yes. Their appointment. Estelle spun. “I’ve kept you.”
“Harvey can run ahead. I’ll walk you home.”
“Thank you, no. Good day, Mr. Blair, Mr. Whitstone.” Then she was gon
e.
As they walked toward their client’s office, Harvey’s sigh was wistful. “I’ll take Estelle York off your hands. Cats like me.”
Daniel slapped Harvey’s back. “I warn you, she’s a sweet lady and you should mean business if you court her.” He had to raise his voice over the clatter of an oncoming cable car.
“You sound like a brother, not a competitor,” Harvey accused over the persistent ding of the cable car’s bell. “Are you encouraging me to call on Miss York because she wants you? You’ve never been much of a prankster, and this sort of joke is not in the least amusing—”
Daniel bolted. Dodged women and a perambulator and almost lost his footing, but he never slowed. The maroon-and-yellow cable car rushed downhill, and at the intersection some twenty yards down in its path, her gaze on her feet, stood an oblivious Josie.
A painful weight smacked Josie’s back, tackling her sideways to the ground. The bulk landed on her, robbing her of breath and pressing her flesh into the gravel. Desperate for air, she twisted her head.
A man had shoved her. Now his arms wrapped tight about her midsection, his face inches above hers. Daniel. Oh, thank the Lord.
Josie. His mouth moved, but the cable car rushed behind them, its clanging bell and clatter extinguishing his voice.
She must have been walking in front of the car. She hadn’t even heard its approach. How foolish. After a ragged breath, she licked her lips. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, although the car had passed. His gaze scanned her features, and his breath was warm on her brow. And then his eyes shut and his long lashes rested on his cheeks and he lowered his head. His lips were warm on her brow. That brotherly gesture again.
“Did I hurt you?”
Her brow tingled, undoing the sting of gravel on her hands and the ache in her hip. “No. But you could have been.”
He lifted her in his arms, carrying her off the street. A crowd lined their path, murmuring, but she didn’t look at anyone. The sensation of cradling against his chest was too wonderful to mind who witnessed it. The fine wool of his gray coat was pleasant against her cheek.
Mercy, she cared for Daniel. Perhaps loved him. Her stomach swooped when he set her on her feet.
His hand cupped the back of her neck. “Any dizziness?”
Not from the fall. “I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”
“What had you so preoccupied you couldn’t even hear the cable car?”
His soft gaze held hers captive. “Why, you, of course. I was thinking of you, and—”
At once, his head lowered. His lips claimed hers, hard and warm, silencing the words. Shock seized her limbs, but the jolt melted like hot metal, liquefying her bones. Daniel.
Then he stepped back, leaving her with tingling lips and a sensation of bliss.
Harvey pushed through the crowd, smirking. “Glad to see nobody’s hurt.”
Heat suffused her face.
“Where’s your bicycle?” Daniel’s hand rested on the small of her back. “You’re dressed for riding.”
Oh, that. The liquidy feeling in her legs drained through her toes. “I was so distracted, I left it at the bookshop—”
“The meeting starts in five minutes,” Harvey interrupted.
Daniel’s hand stayed put. “Start without me. I’ll see Josie home.”
Harvey waved and jogged away. No doubt he’d give Daniel a terrible time over the kiss, even though it was nothing. Daniel no doubt felt relief she was safe. Like a brother.
They marched up the hill toward the bookshop. Her hip ached, but she wouldn’t mention it.
“So you were thinking of me?” Daniel nudged her with his shoulder. “I bet it wasn’t anything more than the plans for the Mothers’ Home.”
When she bit her lip, he frowned. “It is?”
No. Yes. “I wish Mrs. Predmore were happier. Not about the plans. She loves them. But we still lack land. I have to get that house built, help those women. Then she’ll approve of me—”
Oh dear. Being struck to the ground and kissed had rendered her unable to control her mouth.
“What’s this? Look at me.”
Josie glanced up, but no more. “I wanted someone to be happy with something I’ve done. Mrs. Predmore. My parents. God.”
“God’s already happy with you. You don’t have to prove anything to Him.”
“Don’t scold me, Daniel. You’ve spent years trying to prove something to your father.” She covered her mouth. How could she say that aloud? Even if it were true. Since Mrs. Blair died, the congressman pushed Daniel, and Daniel became successful at everything his father hadn’t planned for him. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Daniel’s jaw worked.
They’d reached the bookshop. Her Yellow Fellow waited where she’d left it. “Before the cable car, that’s what I was thinking about. The congressman. He’s back in town. I saw him in the shop.”
“I see.” He took a deep breath.
She shouldn’t have spoken about his father. Now they were both angry and hurt. It shouldn’t be like this when someone was kissed, but this wasn’t about romance for him. Daniel looked at her as a sister, or he wouldn’t be frowning at the street. Her stomach knotted.
“I can get home from here.” She gripped the cycle’s handlebars. “If you hurry, you can make your meeting.”
He could refuse, but he didn’t. “If you’re injured, call the doctor, promise?”
She nodded, but her hurt couldn’t be tended by a doctor. She hopped on her cycle and pedaled home, wondering if he watched her, even for a minute.
Chapter 6
Fresh from that rough parting with Josie, Daniel felt stung. His hands smarted from scrapes. His heart ached as if dry and hollow. Why he decided to make the pain worse by visiting his father, he wasn’t sure. Unless he wanted to get all the agony over with at once.
After being admitted to Father’s library to wait, Daniel scanned the shelves. Finding the large black Bible, he pulled it down and crossed to the window’s light. The leather binding was firm, the pages crisp from lack of use. Daniel thumbed the book open, looking for a word, any word, to redirect his focus while he waited.
He laughed aloud. The passage touched on working for God and not men, which seemed to cut to the heart of the matter between him and his father.
Lord, I’ve tried to serve You, to be the man You desire rather than the man my father would have me be. I’ve also tried to honor him, but I can’t seem to do both. Help me—
“This is a surprise.” Father strode into the chamber with a half smile. In the months since they’d seen each other, the amount of gray at Father’s temples had increased, but he still exuded vitality and charisma. Daniel inherited his father’s broad-shouldered build, but in every other way, he resembled his mother. Perhaps that was why Father hadn’t seemed to look at him much since she’d died.
“Welcome home.” Daniel set down the Bible and shook his father’s hand. “I didn’t expect your return from Washington until later this month.”
“The session’s almost over, and President Cleveland understood my desire to get home. It’s an election year, after all. Campaigning to do.” He thumped the desk as he moved to sit behind it. With a wave of his hand, he indicated Daniel should sit in one of the heavy oak chairs on its opposite side, seats Daniel long associated with lectures. But this time, Daniel caught himself peeking into the chair before he sat. A new habit, thanks to Thisbe.
And Josie. But he couldn’t think of her—or the fact that he had been so reckless as to kiss her—now. “How long have you been back?”
“Not long. I dined with the Fairchilds last evening.” Father dodged Daniel’s inferred question of why he hadn’t sent word of his return. “It sounds as if your business has had a busy month.”
Ah, yes. They’d discuss work. A safe topic. “As I wrote, Harvey and I are finalists in the Humphries Competition. Our little firm has gained clientele.”
“Including women of i
ll repute?” Father busied himself with a sheaf of papers, a common tactic that prevented him from making eye contact with his son.
Daniel couldn’t help the laugh that gurgled out his throat. “It is a home for women who need help. Don’t politicians want to improve the lives of their constituents?”
“I’m concerned for your reputation. And mine. If you refuse to help me in Washington, I ask that you don’t harm me, either. To that end, shouldn’t you be more concerned with impressing Theodora Humphries than charity cases? Or cavorting with females?”
“Cavorting? I’m designing a house, Father, not frolicking in the park.” Some things never changed. Daniel stood and stepped toward the door.
“Aren’t you?” Father stood. “What about the Price girl?”
So this was why Josie seemed so distressed, why she’d wandered into the cable car’s path. He swallowed back bile. “What did you say to her?”
Father lifted his hands, a gesture of innocence. “Pleasantries. Her family has good standing and money, after all. But she associates with lowbrow sorts and wears trousers. And since you’re the city’s ‘most eligible bachelor,’ you have better options.”
Daniel’s pulse pounded his temples. He prayed for words that honored both Josie and his father. “The bachelor stuff is rot. And Josie’s associations, as you call them, are founded on her desire to serve ‘the least of these.’ I’m sorry you can’t see that.”
A ghost of a smile played at Father’s lips. “I see more than you wish me to, Son. You came today prepared for a fight. I won’t give it to you.”
He never did, but Daniel’s insides boiled. Why do I care so much, God? If he was doing right, serving God and not his father, why did he feel so frustrated?
Nothing could be settled now. Not here.
Besides, he had other things he needed to fix.
“I don’t understand.” Fannie clutched the parcel to her chest as she stood on Josie’s porch. “Daniel designed the Mothers’ Home in exchange for your protection from aggressive females? That’s why you two are thick as molasses? Pah. He’s fond of you.”
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