Violet found herself hoping Harry McKee could get the business with her mine settled soon. She still intended to do what she could for women like herself, but she now had a longing to indulge herself in a little luxury. Not all of that silver money would find its way back to Massachusetts.
* * * * *
"Violet! What are you doing here?"
Violet turned to seen Harvey McKee hurrying across the lobby in her direction.
"When was the quarantine over?" he asked. "I thought you'd be playing mother hen while your charges worked off their cabin fever."
Violet laughed. "I would be, but Jeff invited me to spend two days recuperating here. Then he bullied Miss Settle into hiring someone to take my place."
Harvey's smiling greeting began to fade. "Jeff? Jeff who?"
"Jeff Randolph."
The smile seemed forced. "Jeff Randolph invited you to spend two days here? Where? They never have any rooms."
"I'm staying in a family suite."
The smile disappeared altogether. "I can't imagine why he did this. You know he hates Yankees, don't you?"
Violet didn't understand why Harvey should suddenly become so serious. "Of course. He never misses an opportunity to tell me."
"Then why did you come?"
"Because I was tired, and I'd missed my two days off. What else should I have done?" She was irritated. She was also tired of everyone trying to disparage Jeff.
"Nothing." He forced a smile. "Since you're here, why don't you have dinner with me."
"I can't. I'm invited to Fern Randolph's house this evening."
"Is Jeff taking you?"
She stiffened. "No."
"Is he going to be there?"
She was getting angry again. "I expect he'll spend the evening working."
"Tell them you can't go," Harvey begged. "They're a hard family."
"I couldn't do that, not after accepting their hospitality."
"Don't let their good looks fool you. They're the most ruthless family I've ever met."
Violet didn't understand Harvey. He'd never acted like this. "I like them. I think they're charming."
Harvey paused. "I had hoped you would think me charming."
"I do. You're also one of the nicest men I know."
"Then you'll--"
"I'll see you next week at the usual time. I'll go to dinner with you then if you like."
"And you'll remember what I've said?"
"Harvey, you know I wouldn't let anybody say a word to me against you. Surely you would expect me to do the same for Jeff."
Harvey accepted defeat with grace. "I'll try to remember that the next time jealousy makes me say something I shouldn't."
"Jealousy? Because of me?" Violet asked, surprised.
"Surely you know I'm very fond of you."
"Of course, but jealousy? I never thought--"
"We'll talk when we have dinner," Harvey said. "In the meantime, beware of the Randolph charm. It's dangerous, even missing an arm."
* * * * *
Philip Rabin entered Jeff's office. Jeff allowed his irritation at the interruption to show.
"I won't take a minute," Rabin said.
Jeff didn't understand why such a successful man always looked like he was angry at the rest of the world. Probably living with Clara and being cursed with a daughter like Betty Sue had made him want to take his anger out on the rest of the human race.
Jeff didn't offer him a seat, but Rabin seemed more interested in warming his hands by the fire.
"As the chairman of the school board, I've come to extend our apologies for your getting caught by the quarantine. It was a terrible thing to have happen. I don't know what Miss Goodwin was thinking about letting you in like that."
Jeff wondered what Miss Settle had been telling the board members. Obviously she didn't want any of the blame to settle on her shoulders.
"Miss Goodwin had nothing to do with it," Jeff said. "I got caught by my own mistake. She did her best to make the best of a bad situation."
Rabin didn't look convinced. Jeff wondered if his wife or daughter had been carrying tales. Clara Rabin hated Jeff, but she'd have no reason to want to blame Violet for what happened. That wasn't necessarily true of Betty Sue.
Rabin cleared his throat. "I heard she slept in the room next to you."
It had to be Betty Sue, the spiteful little witch. She was angry because Violet had defended the twins, and she was trying to get back at her. Jeff couldn't imagine why a grown man should believe everything a thirteen-year-old girl told him, but then he didn't understand why Philip allowed himself to be dominated by his wife either.
"She slept in the room next to me because there were no beds anywhere else," Jeff explained in sharp, curt words. "Did Betty Sue tell you the maid also slept upstairs and that Miss Goodwin kept her door open at all times so she could hear the girls if they called out to her?"
"What makes you think--"
"Miss Goodwin wasn't the least bit pleased to have a man in her dormitory. She constantly placed herself between me and the girls. She never let me go downstairs without her being present, not even to use the bathroom."
"Is it true she dined alone with you on at least two occasions?"
"Yes."
Jeff decided maybe he'd have a word with the twins. If they were determined to get themselves kicked out, they might as well take care of Betty Sue at the same time. He eyed Philip distrustfully. The man looked too pleased with himself.
"Then I'm afraid the board will have to reconsider her employment. We can't afford to keep staff who exercise such poor judgment. If the parents ever found out--"
"They won't, unless you tell them," Jeff said. His voice was quiet, but Philip's expression showed he had heard the menace in it.
"But we can't hide the fact that--"
"Miss Goodwin dined with me at a table set up in the hall, in full view of anyone who came upstairs. I did it to give her a few minutes rest from the constant supervision of sixteen girls. Have you ever tried to take care of sixteen girls for as much as five minutes?"
Philip looked blank.
"It would drive any man crazy. That's why I insisted Miss Settle let her spend a couple of days in the hotel."
"As to that--"
"In case you're still inclined to let gossip and rumor lead you about by the nose, you can easily prove to yourself I haven't gone within five blocks of the hotel since. I don't intend to until after she has returned to her duties."
Philip looked momentarily stymied. Jeff wasn't sure the man believed everything he'd told him, but he couldn't very well say so. However much he might adore his daughter, he had to know it would be easy to prove if she were lying.
"I'm glad to hear that," Philip said, stepping away from the fire. "It was an awkward situation. Naturally Miss Settle and the board were concerned."
"Not enough to come see for yourselves what was going on," Jeff said. "Now I know you've got business waiting on you."
Philip Rabin clearly didn't relish being dismissed, not even by a bank president, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.
"I'm glad to know Miss Goodwin managed things so well. Clara will be relieved to hear it."
"Clara would only be happy if I disgraced myself so completely no one in Denver would speak to me."
Philip Rabin looked more agitated that usual. "You and Clara never did see eye to eye."
"But we do," Jeff contradicted. "Neither one of us can stand the other. Now I have work I must get done."
But the moment the door closed behind Philip Rabin, Jeff laid down his pen. He was furious over Philip's attempt to slander Violet. He was also surprised at the strength of his anger. He had come close to attacking the man.
It infuriated him they should suspect Violet of questionable behavior. She might be a Yankee, but she took her responsibilities seriously. She had done everything in her power to shield the girls from the consequences of sharing their living space with a man.
&n
bsp; He smiled at the memory of Violet standing guard outside the bathroom, of the shock on her face when he appeared at the door naked to the waist, the way she looked standing in his doorway with her hand clamped over her eyes. It was a good thing Clara Rabin didn't know about that.
He wondered if Violet was enjoying her stay at the Windsor. He still didn't know what had caused him to make the offer. The words had popped out before he knew what he was saying. He guessed it was partly irritation at Miss Settle and the board for acting like they had been put to some trouble. Violet had done all the work.
Iris had sent him a note saying they'd had a lovely time the previous evening. She'd also told him they were all gathering at Fern's home for dinner. She'd invited him, but she'd ended by saying she expected he had work to do.
That irked Jeff. He was tempted to go just to annoy Iris. Besides, he wanted to know if Violet had gotten any rest. He remembered how tired she looked when he left. Tense, as well. She needed more than two days.
He remembered the kiss. It still had the power to make him break out in a cold sweat. He remembered the softness of her lips. He'd never wanted to kiss Louise, not even under the sway of passion. It was different with Violet. It was tender and sweet. Almost youthfully shy. He had forgotten what they'd felt like. Now all of a sudden he could remember the kisses he stole from Amelia Bland the summer they were sixteen.
They had sat under the mulberry trees in the garden one hot June afternoon. He could still remember the heavy, sweet smell of honeysuckle on the garden wall, hear sounds that drifted down from the house, up from the orchard, along the farm road that ran beside the garden. He could still remember the magic that made the sounds seem far away and unimportant.
That had been twenty-one years ago, a lifetime, before his family had been forced to leave Virginia, before the war, before the loss of his arm, before he learned to hate the world. He had ceased to be that boy so long ago he had forgotten all about him.
Yet Violet had brought him back with a single kiss.
Jeff wasn't sure he wanted that. It made him feel weak and vulnerable again. He was strong now. He knew what he had to do to be a successful banker. He knew himself, what he could do and what he had to avoid. His life and emotions were under careful control, each doing exactly what he expected of them.
That boy hadn't been in control of anything. He had been petrified of his father. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. And even though he still had both of his arms, he hadn't felt strong enough to compete for Amelia against an older cousin. He had been weak and frightened. Jeff didn't ever want to feel that way again.
But Violet's kiss had reminded him of something he'd forgotten. That boy had had an enjoyment of life, an eagerness to rush headlong toward the future Jeff had lost. He had trembled as his lips touched Amelia's, as his fingertips had brushed the soft skin of her inner arm. He had felt on the brink of something wonderful and exciting. He was in love with love, enchanted with enchantment. He was absolutely, unshakably certain that someday he would find a woman who would make him totally, deliriously, almost painfully, happy.
Now at thirty-seven, all that boundless hope, all the untrammeled enthusiasm, was gone. He wasn't sure such a future existed for anyone. He was certain it didn't exist for him, and it was foolish even to remember it. Experience was a ruthless but very thorough teacher, and he wasn't one to forget its lessons.
But even as he picked up his pen, he remembered how Violet looked across the table in candlelight -- her eyes so dark and deep, her hair glistening thick and richly colored, her voice soft and comforting -- and his resolve weakened. He wanted to see her once more, to kiss her again. There was more of that boy still in him than he would have imagined.
This was foolish, Jeff told himself as he drew a set of papers toward him. He refused to allow a Yankee female to upset him like this. Besides, just the thought of spending the evening in the bosom of his family made him decide his curiosity wasn't that strong.
* * * * *
Violet couldn't put her finger on why she was so uncomfortable about Fern's appearance, but her years as a nurse had helped her to develop certain instincts. They told her Fern Randolph was not well.
Madison and Fern had built a large, two-story stone house on a small hill three miles from the center of Denver. The family had gathered in a large Victorian parlor furnished with dark, expensive furniture. The flickering flames of a feeble fire struggled to consume a pair of logs, but soft gas lights made the room bright, and steam radiators kept out the biting winter cold.
"Don't get up," Violet said, crossing the room quickly, her steps muffled by a thick carpet. "Are you sure you should be out of bed?"
Fern smiled, but the effort was apparent. "I have to get out of that room once in a while. Besides, I wanted to thank you for putting up with the twins and Jeff. That's more than should be asked of anyone."
"They were actually quite good while their uncle was there." She had almost said Jeff but caught herself in time. "They spent the whole first day running up and down the stairs doing his errands. I think they were relieved when he finally had that lift erected outside his window."
"Tell us about that," Iris asked. "I can just imagine what anyone passing along the street and seeing it must have thought."
Violet faced Iris with an answering smile. "Fortunately, it wasn't visible from the street. But the half dozen clerks racing about were. I'm surprised some parent didn't come demanding to know what was going on."
"Being locked up with Jeff must have been like being locked up with a tiger," Iris said. "Show us your scars."
"Miss Goodwin looks like she's capable to taking care of herself," Monty said. "Tell us about Jeff's scars."
"You're going to give Miss Goodwin a terrible impression of us," Fern said.
"Please, call me Violet."
"She already has one," Iris said. "After last night and a day of shopping at half the stores in Denver, she knows all the Randolph family secrets."
"How about yours?" Daisy asked.
"They're not Randolph secrets," Iris said. "I kept them to myself."
"I know them all," Monty said to Violet in a mock conspiratorial whisper. "Suppose you meet me for a ride early tomorrow morning."
Violet knew Iris and Monty were devoted to each other. Still she found herself flushing at being caught in the middle of their banter. She didn't quite know what to do. Her family had never done anything like this.
"Don't mind them," Fern said, "they always--"
The rest of Fern's sentence was forgotten. Jeff had just entered the parlor. In the resulting clamor of surprise and dismay, Violet hoped her sudden loss of color passed unnoticed.
She had told herself she would never see Jeff again. When she had arrived tonight and he wasn't present, the last persistent shred of hope had vanished. She had accepted the fact tomorrow her fairy tale would end, she would go back to the Wolfe School, and her life would take up where it had left off. Seeing Jeff now had destroyed that calm and caused hope to dance wildly in her heart.
She was aware his gaze immediately searched the room until he found her. He paused a moment, as though to drink in all he saw, before the family outcry claimed his attention.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Monty demanded.
"I figured I couldn't leave Miss Goodwin in your company for two nights running. She'd get a peculiar notion of what the family was like."
"This family is peculiar," Tyler said. "If she has any other notion, she ought to get rid of it."
"You're certainly strange enough," Jeff said.
"If you came here to get people upset, you can go home," Fern said, her expression severe, her voice firm. "I still haven't forgiven you for sending Madison away. I won't have you ruin the only evening I feel up to having company."
"Shall I toss him out?" Monty offered.
The two men faced each other, bristling. Violet was shocked at the resemblance between them. Monty was slightly taller. But desp
ite the fact Jeff seemed to have smaller bones and a slimmer frame, their bodies were equally heavy with muscle, their hair equally blond, their faces equally handsome.
"Nobody's throwing anybody anywhere," Fern said. "Now sit down and stop acting like you're about to have a brawl. They're always like this," she said, apologizing to Violet.
"Monty behaves just fine when Jeff doesn't antagonize him," Iris said, determined to defend her husband.
Violet felt a strong urge to defend Jeff and might have spoken up if he hadn't caught her eye. He actually smiled at her, gave his head an almost imperceptible shake.
Monty laughed. "I've never been fit for company, and you know it," he said, completely unfazed. "That's why the family's so happy to have me stay in Wyoming."
"I'd be perfectly happy to have you in Denver," Fern said. "The boys would be delighted, but I won't have you and Jeff fighting. I don't feel up to it just now."
"Maybe I should go find the boys," Monty offered.
"Don't you dare. If you get them stirred up, they'll never go to bed."
"Invite the twins over," Jeff suggested. "The boys will be so worn out trying to keep up with those whirligigs, they'll be happy to fall into bed."
"Miss Goodwin was just telling us how well they behaved during the quarantine."
"They took one of the younger girls under their protection," Jeff said. "That way they could be ready to fight without actually having to do it."
"All the excitement without the danger," Iris said.
"They are really very kind to Essie Brown," Violet said, "but Jeff was the one who stole her heart."
"Jeff!" Five voices exclaimed at once.
"She had trouble with her arithmetic," Jeff explained.
"You helped a child with her homework?" Iris said, stunned. "I don't believe it."
"If you'd said he'd scared her half to death, I could have believed that," Monty said.
"Or gotten rid of her down the lift," Tyler said.
Violet could stand it no longer. "You obviously don't know your brother very well," she said. "Essie adores him. Her father never visited. Jeff not only saw that he was on the steps the minute the quarantine was over, he even helped Essie write him a letter."
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