Chances (13 page)

Sarah held her hands up in a gesture of nullification and shook her head. Elizabeth had earned their respect with years of community involvement and charitable giving. It wasn’t Sarah’s due, not yet, and demanding it would only make things worse. “Thank you, Elizabeth, but I’ve made my decision. Let’s not argue any further. I feel I’ve caused dissent, and no movement needs that within its ranks. My further involvement will only make things difficult.”

Lavinia nodded, her shock hidden behind a cheery smile of support. “I think Miss Donovan is being quite noble. Perhaps I misjudged her.” She patted Sarah’s arm and leaned forward toward the crowd. “I do have a tendency to let gossip get the best of me.” She beamed as she once again turned to Sarah. “Are you quire sure, dear, that we can’t all work together?”

Sarah pasted a contrite smile on her own face and shook her head, wondering if Lavinia's pacification was all going just a bit too easily. “I think it would be better if I weren’t actively involved.”

“Quite right. We do need to preserve the cause, and there is always the lingering chance that others in the community would look poorly on us.” Lavinia glanced at Elizabeth. “Perhaps there are other ways Miss Donovan can contribute, outside of the organized movement. We do want to be fair, after all. We’ll put our heads together and see what we can find for her.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms and stared back. “How decent of you.”

Sarah groaned and shook her head at her friend.

Lavinia waved a hand through the air and squeezed Sarah’s arm again. “Don’t be catty, Elizabeth. I believe Miss Donovan is more than happy with the way things have turned out, aren’t you dear?”

Sarah choked back a derisive snigger. Lavinia Morgan had to be the shallowest woman in the room. But she was also the most dangerous and Sarah knew better than to assume the threat was gone. A sudden idea formed in her head and she offered a silent prayer that her intuition was right.

Leaning forward, she lowered her voice for Lavinia’s ears only. “It’s a compromise, Lavinia. If it works, we’ll both be happy and your leadership of the movement will succeed just fine. But just so we
both
know, this works only if we both do our share to squelch the gossip. If it continues, you will lose this movement and your role in it. What’s done is done, and we both know the rumors about the telegrams aren’t going to simply disappear. But I’d hate to hear them grow to involve anyone but me. I’m sure you won’t start any new gossip—about Daniel or about me. As long as things are quiet, I’ll make sure any little tidbits about you and Frank Bates are nipped in the bud. Are we understood?”

Shock skittered through Lavinia’s gray eyes, confirming Sarah’s hunch that Frank and Lavinia were more involved than Lavinia would have anyone know. Lavinia offered a reluctant nod of agreement. “It appears we understand each other quite well.”

* * * * *

The following afternoon, Daniel stood, kicking at the dirt on the floor of the Kansas-Pacific depot while Jim Wilson finished with his line of customers. He didn’t much like eating crow, but he figured he owed it to Sarah. Much as he hated admitting it, he’d been wrong to hold her responsible for that body fiasco in the first place. Filing the complaint with the railroad had been reactionary and totally uncalled for.

He shifted his stance and glanced about the station. It sure was a busy place. A frazzled woman sagged on the leather bench, two cranky toddlers at her knee. Their vocal complaints filled the room. In front of the ticket window, two old-timers argued over which day they wanted to depart. A young boy pushed a floor broom across the wooden planks, stirring up dust devils. Luggage handlers carried a trunk away and the distant sound of a train whistle caught the attention of waiting passengers.

Good God, what it must be like to work among such noise, trying to concentrate on deciphering the dots and dashes of a telegram. It was all such a stark contrast to his quiet coffin shop where the grate of sandpaper on cedar was the only intrusion on one’s private thoughts.

Still, he could picture Sarah here, content with all the fuss and bother. Because of his actions, she’d been removed from it and now pulled her duty during the quiet night shift. The silence must be eerie for her.

The last customer turned away from the ticket counter and shuffled toward the open doorway that led to the platform. Jim Wilson followed, pushing up his glasses and reminding the boisterous little ones not to step too close to the waiting train.

Daniel watched them board, fingering the carefully scripted letter in his pocket until Jim reentered.

“Sorry about the delay, Mr. Petterman. You wanted to talk to me?” Jim wiped his hand on his pant leg and extended it.

Daniel shook it, then presented the letter. “I think I made a grave error in issuing that complaint against Sarah Donovan. I acted in haste, without seeking to discover the facts of the situation. I’d like to retract the complaint.”

Jim raised his bushy eyebrows. “You would?”

“Yes. After some observation, I’ve noted that Miss Donovan has a much higher level of professionalism than I originally thought.”

The stationmaster nodded. “Like I told you when you issued the complaint, that li’l gal is the best telegrapher I’ve ever had here. Didn’t seem you wanted to hear it much then. Anything in particular change your mind?”

“Yeah. I got stuck on a committee with her and she put me in my place.” He rued the stupid grin inching its way across his face. Wilson acted like he was enjoying his discomfort. But he seemed a good sort and Sarah spoke well of him.

“She does tend to do that. You want this letter forwarded on up the line, then?”

Daniel nodded. “It needs to go wherever the original complaint went.”

“Will do, Petterman.” Jim stuffed the letter into his vest pocket and eyed Daniel.

“Any chance this will get her transferred back to days?”

Jim paused as if weighing his words. “It’ll help. No guarantees, though. It’s complicated, and I reckon she’d rather stay on nights than be bossed by Bates. But what with him not showing for his shift, it might just be enough to do the trick at that.”

“Thanks, Wilson.”

Jim glanced around the station then turned back to Daniel. “She tell you she stepped down from that suffrage association of hers? Told me she just lost interest. Seem right to you?”

A sense of foreboding crept through him. It just didn’t fit with the Sarah he’d seen. “Lost interest? Hardly. That woman doesn’t just
lose interest
in anything, let alone women’s suffrage.”

“Heard from Bates that she got in a tussle with that Morgan woman.”

“Lavinia.” The name was sour on Daniel’s lips. “That old bat ought to have her wings clipped.”

Jim snorted in agreement, then pushed at his spectacles. “Whatever it was that got them two tangled, it must have been something to make Sarah step down from fightin’ for the vote.”

“And whatever it was, Jim Wilson, is none of your business.” Sarah entered the open doorway of the depot and glared at them, hands on her hips. “Don’t you two have better things to do than stand around gossiping?”

Daniel’s mouth went dry. Sarah was once again clad in plain brown, her golden hair drawn into a severe bun. Funny, all he’d seen before was the brown skirt. Now, all he saw were the curves she was trying so hard to disguise, curves he had no right even thinking about.

“Afternoon,” Jim nodded.

“Sarah,” Daniel said, not trusting himself further.

“Well?” she demanded.

Daniel stared back at her and shook his head. “Well what?”

“If you two will just excuse me, I sure got a pile of ticket stubs to file away.” Jim hustled into his office.

Sarah crossed the room toward him, heels clicking, and Daniel groaned. The hellcat was back.

“What in the world are you doing here?” she snapped.

“It’s a train station, Sarah. Last I heard, anyone was welcome in here.” His voice was sharper than he’d intended and he wanted to kick himself. He needed to make things right with her, not antagonize her again. Damn, but she needled him.

“Jim doesn’t like folks to loiter. Was there something you needed?” She stopped in front of him, violet eyes flashing like it was his fault she’d stopped by.

“I’ve already taken care of my business with Mr. Wilson.”

“Then I guess you can be on your way.” She turned away and he caught her arm.

“It’s a little early for your shift, isn’t it?”

“And why is that your business?”

Daniel sighed and forced his mouth into a smile that didn’t have the slightest thing to do with the way he was feeling. “It’s not. But then, it wasn’t really any of your business what I was doing here.” He silenced her retort with a finger to his lips. “I just thought maybe you might have time for a walk.”

“With you?”

Good God, she was sassy. He should just turn around and walk away and let her stew. He should, but he owed her, especially if that Morgan woman was stirring things up. “No, with the next customer that walks in. Of course, with me.”

Sarah wiped her hands on her skirt, glanced at Jim’s ticket counter, and took a deep breath. “Look, Daniel, I have enough problems as it is—”

“So do I, but I figure we have at least one or two in common.” He softened his tone and caught her gaze. “Could we at least go somewhere quiet to talk about what happened the other night?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do. Shall I talk about it here where Bates is liable to walk in and cause us both an upset stomach, or will you come with me?”

Sarah glared at him, her eyes once again full of fire. “I take my walks along the City Ditch,” she said, then turned and stalked away.

One corner of Daniel’s mouth lifted. Most women he knew took their strolls along the respectable paths in front of the city’s larger homes. But Sarah wasn’t like most women he knew. He shrugged and followed her out the door and into the fading light of late afternoon. “Sounds fine to me. It’ll give me a place to throw you if you keep up with that mouth of yours.”

She turned and stared at him, incredulous. “You didn’t seem to mind my mouth too much when you cornered me in the butler’s pantry.”

A smart retort formed on Daniel’s lips and he swallowed it. “Truth be told, Sarah, neither of us minded, and that’s exactly why we need to talk.” He paused, pondering her sour face, then decided to drop the subject until her mood softened. “Are you sure you want to walk all the way to the ditch? It must be three miles. Why don’t we just take my buggy?”

“Ah, the elusive buggy. Too bad you didn’t bring it last time we needed one.”

He recalled the warmth of her body surrounded by his arms, and the swell of her breasts as the horse jostled him against her. Even then, when he’d been angry as hell, she’d possessed him. Forcing the thought away, he smiled at her and arched his eyebrows. “As I recall, you’re the one who fetched the transportation.”

Sarah planted her fists on her hips. “Only because you were short-sighted enough to run off on foot and leave your own horse and buggy sitting at home.”

He paused at the polished black runabout and turned to offer Sarah his hand. “Well, I brought it this time so let’s use it.”

She shook her head with an exasperated glare and marched past him. Placing a worn black boot on the high iron step, she grasped the leather seat back and swung herself upward in one fluid motion.

“Stubborn woman,” Daniel muttered into the crisp air, then stepped up and into the seat beside her. “Put the blanket on, it’s cold.”

She eyed the coverlet at the edge of the seat then stole a glance at him. “I’m not stupid, Daniel.”

“I never meant to imply you were.” She sure made things difficult, always putting her own spin on what he meant. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment, then breathed deeply and searched for a calm, even tone. “Look, I’m trying to do this your way. I didn’t put the blanket over you and I didn’t tuck it in around you like I would for any other woman. You’d just toss it off if I did. But I happen to think it’s cold and the blanket’s on your side. Put the blasted thing on yourself or pass it over to me.”

“Sorry.” She gathered the wool plaid lap blanket and placed it over them.

Daniel watched her without words, noting the care she took to avoid frightening the horse as she distributed the blanket. Most women, expecting a man to tuck the robe around them, would have flung it out as if they were at a picnic. She was stubborn, but she was smart. He snapped the reins and threaded the buggy down 22
^nd
Street and onto Broadway. They approached Colfax and turned east, leaving most of Denver behind them.

The buggy rocked with a steady rhythm, accenting the clip clop of the horses’ feet. They rode in silence with the prairie, devoid of trees, stretched before them.

“There’s the ‘Folly.’ ” Sarah pointed to Bill and Elizabeth’s grand house on Brown’s Bluff. “What do you think, Daniel? Was it folly to build way out here?”

“Smart, I’d say. Look at the other fancy homes going up. Brown even wants to donate land for a new capitol building.”

“So I heard.”

Daniel bristled at her tone. “Are you going to keep this up the whole drive?” he finally asked.

“Me? What’d I do?”

“You’re snappy. Even in the middle of a conversation about other people’s houses, you snap.”

She rolled her eyes and made a soft sound of frustration. “Maybe I snap because I’m not very happy with you right now. Your complaint made it easy for Bates to get himself promoted over me. My reputation is compromised to the point that I had to step down from the suffrage movement. But, then, that really wouldn’t matter to you, would it, because you don’t believe in suffrage in the first place.”

“Now wait just a minute.” He jerked the horse to a stop and turned toward Sarah. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t complain if I loused up an important telegram?”

Her breasts rose and fell, stretching the fabric of her shirtwaist as she took a measured breath, then two. “I’d take the time to find out the facts, first.”

Daniel felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the thought of Sarah taking the time to gather facts. Somehow, he just couldn’t picture that happening. “You’d jump right in with your own assumptions, just as I did, and you know it. Sarah Donovan, you are not a saint. You are an opinionated, hell-bent-on-taking-charge woman and you would have marched right up to my boss and complained. No doubt about it.”