Chances (11 page)

Sarah stared in fascination. If she touched them, would they ripple beneath her fingers?

“I figure the embarrassment won’t set in until tomorrow, Sarah. I’ve breached my code so far tonight, a little farther wouldn’t be much of a stretch. We’re not done, not yet.” His words came softly, luring her.

She eyed the pantry door.

“You never had any grapes, Sarah,” he whispered, pulling a linen napkin from his pocket. He unwrapped the bundle and the room filled with the scent of fresh grapes.

Her breath quickened as he drew her into his spell. Her lips parted in surrender.

Daniel’s hand brushed across her cheek, hot and intense. He set the grape in her mouth. She took it from him, feeling his fingers slide against her lips before cupping her chin and tilting her face upward for his kiss.

His lips were soft, far softer than she remembered from their last brief touch. He kissed her lightly, a gentle greeting before the onslaught. He groaned and her own voice answered him mindlessly as he devoured her, ravishing her mouth with hot, hungry kisses. Their tongues danced together, touching and retreating.

Her bustle hit the hard counter behind her as Daniel pressed closer, hard and hot against her lower abdomen. His hands stroked her face, her neck, her hair. One by one, he slid her hairpins out until the heavy tresses tumbled downward.

As if in answer, her own hands raked through his hair, feeling its thick softness, smelling the cedar from the shavings of his shop, touching his face.

In the recesses of her mind, she recognized the creak of the door at the same time she heard the sharp intake of breath that accompanied it.

Lavinia Morgan’s sharp voice broke the interlude. “Mercy! The rumors were true. Heaven help us all.”

Chapter Seven

After a morning of tossing and turning, Sarah gave up on restful slumber. She’d fretted about the mess she was in, worrying about Lavinia Morgan and Daniel’s kiss through the entire night shift. She’d penned letters to Miriam and Lise, then crumpled them. The sleep she’d hoped for never came. She needed some air.

Rising, she dressed in haste. The deep blue gown she’d worn last night was draped across the iron railing at the foot of her bed. She frowned at it. She should have stuck with her practical brown work skirt.

What in the world had she been thinking?

She slipped on her plain woolen stockings and reached for her worn brown shoes with sharp, quick movements. Yawning, she pulled them on and tugged the laces tight. Lord, she was tired. Worse, she was confused. She wound her thick braid into a bun, pinned it, and made a face at her reflection in the small oval mirror atop the dresser. It would have to do.

She moved through the deserted boarding house, and crisp November air hit her as she emerged into the day. It was the kind of air that helped a person think. She smiled at the wind and drew a deep breath.

Sarah moved away from the crowded neighborhood of the station, hiking toward the isolation of the meandering City Ditch. The irrigation canal wound past unpopulated stretches, perfect for soul-searching. She kept a brisk pace, crossing smaller, rancid-smelling ditches as she neared outlying areas.

Her rapid steps chipped away at the dreadful confusion that had haunted her for the past twelve hours. Lord, she hated it when things weren’t clear to her.

Sarah frowned at the thick brown water in the ditch. It was the color of Daniel’s hair. Visages of its softness filled her, his hazel eyes, more intense than she’d ever seen them, his lips, unexpectedly demanding, and the incredible way she’d melded with his body.

She kicked at a rock and watched it tumble into the canal. It landed in the water with a plop, sending a fleeting odor of waste into the air. Sarah stepped away from it, disgusted.

Daniel was nothing but an annoying, irritating, pompous man and she should hate it that he’d made advances.

Except she didn’t.

Daniel had her weak-kneed and out of control. Last night, he had been the master of the game and she’d been unable to resist him, even if she’d wanted to.

She nodded to herself, accepting the realization, and moved away from the ditch, across the brown prairie. There was still the matter of Lavinia Morgan.

Sarah bit her lip. She’d never, ever, in her entire life worried about what anyone else thought of her. She should simply enjoy whatever she chose to pursue with Daniel instead of worrying about Lavinia. Still, for some reason, the thought of Lavinia rankled. Elizabeth had hinted Lavinia could be a dangerous woman, and a strange knot of worry had stayed in Sarah’s stomach all night.

Maybe it was the dreadful realization that someone had really paid attention to Bates’s horrid tales that bothered her. Judging by Lavinia’s shocked reaction to what she’d seen, Frank had more than likely fed his rumors to Lavinia over dinner at the boarding house and she’d eaten up every crumb. Sarah had dismissed Frank as less than credible. Yet Lavinia’s comments last night indicated she’d formed an opinion before she ever even opened the door of the butler’s pantry.

Sarah pulled her winter shawl closer and turned back to town, wondering how dangerous Lavinia could really be.

The gossip would be juicier now, but she’d be damned if she let a lifetime of trying to prove she possessed the skills to do anything she wanted get washed away by the rambling of a gossipy old hen. Truth would prevail. All she had to do was meet it the rumors head on and those spreading them would
see her abilities.

That’s what Elizabeth would do. Her friend had been dragged through the mud any number of times, often because of Bill’s indiscreet behavior. But she’d stood tall and the rumors had lost credence. It had been difficult for her, but Elizabeth had emerged as one of the most respected women in town. Sarah neared the residential neighborhoods at the edge of the city with new resolve. She would carry herself with character and the public would see it. If she hid in shame, shame is what they would see. She’d fight Bates and those old toads who sent the irritating telegrams. She’d quit denying rumors and simply turn them back on the men, force them to explain the idle talk away. Put the men on the defensive for a change.

And she would not mix any of Frank's insinuations up with her attraction to Daniel. Proving she could succeed was a lot lonelier business than she’d expected. There was absolutely no reason she shouldn’t explore the relationship further, as long as she set the pace instead of allowing Daniel to catch her by surprise again. Besides, what better way to prove Bates wrong than to live her social life
her
own way.

* * * * *

A sharp rap pulled Daniel’s attention from the simple casket on the table. He frowned, set the container of rouge on the counter next to the tin of caked powder and moved toward the door. There went his quiet, contemplative morning.

Lifting the curtain, he spied Bill’s familiar face and turned back the lock to open the door.

“You look a little grim this morning, my friend,” Bill chided.

Daniel scowled. The last thing he needed was yet another reminder of last night. “I’m busy. What do you want?”

“Testy, too. Rough night?” Bill moved past him with determination, glancing around the shop. He leaned against the counter and offered a wry smile.

“I think you know the answer to that. You here to confirm a story or fish for more news?”

“Neither.”

“That would be a first.” Daniel eyed his friend with suspicion as he moved back to the coffin. By now, most of the town had probably heard the gossip from that wretched Morgan woman. He hated the prospect of Kate and Molly hearing rumors. And then there was the position he’d placed Sarah in.

Bill threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. “I already got the scoop, Daniel. Of course, if you’d like to confirm the details, I’d be more than happy to hear your side of things.”

“You’re not really going to print—”

“Easy, Daniel. I popped over to fill you in on information you might be unaware of. Got a few minutes?”

Daniel fought to bury his frustration, focusing on routine. “If you don’t mind me putting the finishing touches on today’s burial.” He nodded to the body and retrieved a container from the counter, knowing Bill would stay whether he continued or not. “She needs to be ready to go in twenty minutes.”

“Not at all. That rouge?”

“Folks don’t like seeing the color of death on their loved ones. A little touch up makes the body more lifelike. Less shocking.”

He rubbed a small amount of the coloring into the woman’s cold, lifeless face. The pastiness blended away and she looked a little less dead.

Bill watched with rapt attention. “Interesting. You might consider touching up your own face a bit. You seem a little pale this morning.”

Daniel set the rouge down, weary of battling himself over what had happened. Sometimes, he hated being alone. Maybe talking to someone about it might help. “Mrs. Winifred maintains a dry household here. I’m afraid the brandy carried a little more punch than I’d remembered it having.”

“Yeah, I seem to recall you were loosened up a bit.”

“So loose I was almost tight.”

“You weren’t drunk, Daniel. A drunk, I can spot. But you were a whole lot less inhibited than usual.”

Daniel shook his head and put his supplies away, then turned back and closed the lid of the coffin. Last night definitely stripped away his inhibitions. But at a price.

“Makes me wonder if my father’s admonitions on the evil of liquor weren’t correct after all.”

“Easy, no need to take the pledge, my friend. There’s nothing wrong with letting your guard down every now and then.” Bill grinned and settled himself into Daniel’s desk chair. “In fact, there are times it can be damned enjoyable.”

“It was that obvious?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“Damnation.” He slammed the cupboard door shut and ran his hand through his hair. What a mess he’d made out of things.

“Whoa. Cursing from you, Daniel?”

“Seems I’ve been doing a lot of it lately.” He paused and stared at Bill for a few moments, then went on. “I had no business letting myself get that far out of line. I behaved like an ass and I compromised Sarah’s character. As soon as I get this funeral out of the way, I intend to make my apologies and assure her it won’t happen again.”

Bill’s mouth dropped open. “Are you an idiot?”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think she wasn’t offering you invitations all night? Flirting? From what I heard, she wasn’t exactly resisting your kiss.”

“Oh, hell.” Sarah’s reputation was being dragged through the mud already. How could he have been so careless?

 “You’d be a fool to assure her it won’t happen again.”

Daniel sighed. Aside from the fact that he’d twice stepped across the line with Sarah, she wasn’t even the right kind of woman for him. He stared at his friend. “Neither of us needs this right now. She’s an outspoken suffragist. I don’t want that kind of influence on my daughters, and I’m sure she’d rather not have her name hooked up with mine. We’re not exactly made for each other.”

Bill nodded but didn’t look convinced. “You got a point there. But, hell, a liberal-minded woman like that, I’d take what she has to offer.”

Rumors about Bill’s affair with that pretty little milliner, Hattie Sancomb, had run rampant a few months back. Daniel didn't know if he believed all the gossip, but Bill sure as blue blazes didn’t deny his interest in women. Daniel just couldn’t picture himself playing around like that. “I’m not you, Bill.”

“You might be more discreet than me, but I’d be hard-pressed to believe any man would turn down a free offer.” Bill offered a knowing smile.

Something about Bill’s words gave Daniel pause. Good God, Bill thought Sarah had initiated this. How the blazes had he gotten an idea like that? He eyed his friend, leaned against the counter, and forced his voice to be casual. “What makes you think she made an offer?”

“A little visit I had earlier from Lavinia Morgan. I thought you’d appreciate hearing what she told me.”

“Damned old busy body.”

Bill laughed. “You pegged her on that one, but she’s got reach. She’s also got lots of sources. Seems she lives at the same boarding house as Frank Bates over at the Kansas-Pacific. According to Bates, Sarah’s reputation is more than a little sullied. That plain-girl image she tries so hard to project may be just that, an image. Bates hinted that there’s only one way a woman gets a job like that and told Lavinia that Sarah uses the wire to arrange illicit meetings with the men on the line.”

“Aw, come on, Bill. You know better. Check your sources. Bates has had it in for her since she got the job he wanted. He made that pretty clear when he accused Sarah of stealing that horse. You heard how he rambled to the judge.”

Bill leaned forward. “What about her request to move to night shift?”

“Request?” Daniel’s mouth tightened into a scowl. “I think she’s on night shift because I threw a fit about the misdirected corpse and Frank Bates used it against her. Jim Wilson himself said it’d go easier if I revoked my complaint.”

“And did you?”

“I was mad. I told him I thought she was incompetent and deserved what she got.” A fresh wave of guilt swept through him. He had dismissed Jim’s insistence that Sarah was the best young telegrapher he’d seen in years. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, and he’d pushed the whole matter out of his mind.

“You sound less than convinced.”

“I get the unsettling feeling I was wrong. The Sarah I’ve seen seems pretty skilled at everything she does. It goes against everything I believe about women, but she probably is a good telegrapher, too. I interfered, and she got moved to nights. Is it her fault she’s getting ribald letters from men she doesn’t even know? You print one word of Lavinia Morgan’s trite little gossip and you set Sarah up for more.”

The comment drew Bill’s attention. “You sound pretty convinced. What makes you believe she’s so innocent?”

Daniel searched Bill’s face and debated with himself. Self-revelation was damned uncomfortable. An image of Sarah, her breath catching as comprehension dawned, filled him. He shifted his feet and took a breath. “Last night, as seductive as I found her, she was completely unaware of what she was doing to me. I saw it in her eyes, the moment she realized what was happening. I felt it in the way she tried to resist and I ignored her.”