Denver (7 page)

He was so wrapped in his thoughts he didn’t watch where he was walking. Suddenly there was a dark blur before him, and he collided head-on with someone.

Both lost their balance and fell into a drift. Dan reached out to brace himself, a feminine yelp coming from the soft person beneath him.

Dan gazed down into wide eyes that were a deep shade of lavender. The woman’s thick black lashes were laced with flakes of snow, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Dan grinned.

“Sorry, ma’am. I wasn’t watching my step, and I do apologize.”

Her lashes fluttered, and a smile came that took his breath away. “Maybe you should move away.”

“Oh! I guess I should at that,” he said, grinning and standing up to pull her to her feet. She was tall and willowy, with an upturned nose.

They gazed into each other’s eyes and laughed. Someone yelled, and she glanced over her shoulder at a waiting carriage. “I must go.” She began to hurry away.

“Wait a minute,” he called after her. “What’s your name?”

She smiled over her shoulder as she ran to the waiting carriage. A man helped her inside and the door closed as the horses pulled the carriage down the street. Dan stared after it in consternation, her image flaming in his mind. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He wondered who she was, and if the waiting man had been a husband.

He hunched his shoulders again and went striding to his hotel, unable to get the woman out of his mind, and determined to find her.

He bathed and dressed carefully for his first dinner party in Denver society. The invitation had come as
an afterthought one day when Dan was leaving the bank. He banked with Shumacher and had had several friendly conversations with him. When Charles discovered Dan was a bachelor, he casually mentioned he had a daughter. At one time Dan knew he would have looked forward with eagerness to meet Shumacher’s daughter. Now, however, with heartaches still plaguing him from his time with Melissa Hatfield, and with Dulcie in his life, he had little interest, but he was delighted to be invited for dinner. It would be a good opportunity to mix with the powerful men of Denver society, and Dan knew he would need them if he was to succeed as a builder.

Pulling on a coat and setting his broad-brimmed hat squarely on his head, he gazed at his own image in a mirror, startled to see himself dressed in such finery. He gave his reflection a cocky grin and left, striding outside, where snow continued to fall in tiny flakes, sparkling on the ground like millions of bits of glass tossed against a white blanket. He climbed into his carriage, taking up the reins and turning down the lane.

The Shumacher house was one of the fine new houses in Denver. Set back from the street, it was a tall stone structure with leaded-glass windows, a porch circling the house, and bays in both front rooms. Dan turned the reins over to a groom, climbed down from the carriage, and went up the steps to stomp the snow off his boots. The door opened and a servant smiled at him, offering to take his coat and hat.

His bald head shining and his thick black mustache drooping over his full mouth, Charles Shumacher came forward to greet Dan and introduce him to his slender, dark-haired wife, Hortense. “Come into the front parlor, Mr. Castle,” Hortense Shumacher said in a high voice that Dan suspected could grow tiresome. “I’ll introduce you to our friends.” He moved beside her, realizing the party was larger than he had expected. Two parlors were filled with people, and the wide double doors between them were thrown open, fires burning in the hearths in both rooms. His gaze swept over the crowd recognizing certain prominent men he had
already met, sighting many whom he didn’t know at all. There were three banks in town—the Kountze brothers’, the First National Bank of Denver, and the Shumacher bank—and men from all three were present tonight. The Knelvilles, father and son, who ran a land office, were there, also Emily Parsons whose father owned a freighting business. Dan’s gaze moved over new faces.

He almost missed a step. Across the room, standing near the blazing fire, was the beauty he had tumbled with into a snowdrift hours earlier. His heart skipped a beat and began again at a more erratic pace. She was laughing, looking at three men clustered around her, her profile to Dan. She wore a blue dress that looked like it was the latest fashion. Her hair was looped in braids over her dainty ears, and the front was crimped and curled above her forehead.

She turned her head and gazed into his eyes, and for an instant Dan felt as if an invisible current bound the two of them together, wrapping them in a world shut away from everyone else in the room. Her lashes fluttered and a pink flush rose in her cheeks. He nodded, giving her a crooked smile.

“Mr. Castle—”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Dan turned to meet four businessmen. He wanted to talk to them, but was relieved when his host moved him on to meet more people.

He curbed the urge to ask to go directly to her, trying to shake hands, smile politely, and talk briefly with people as he was introduced. Dan and Charles slowly moved around the room. As they circled to the point where his back was no longer to her, Dan was pleased to see that she had moved also, standing where she could easily observe his approach. Now Charles paused before five men, and Dan was introduced to whiskered gentlemen who looked prosperous and gazed at him with curious eyes. One, Benjamin Corning, said, “I’ve heard your name. You’re the fellow building the new house on Sherman.”

“That’s right. I’m in the building business.”

One of the men laughed, his voice dropping to little
more than a whisper. “You’re the fellow who built Miss Dulcie’s house.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Fine house.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice to a normal level. “How’s progress on your own house?”

“This snow has me stopped,” Dan said, aware that the black-haired beauty had turned and was openly listening to his conversation. His pulse beat faster in anticipation. She must have felt something extraordinary too, or she wouldn’t be paying such close attention to him.

“I’ve heard about your house on Sherman,” the one named Forester said. “I’ll have to ride past and take a look. Even Mrs. Forester has talked about it.”

“You can talk to him about it later,” Charles Shumacher said. “I want him to meet all my guests.”

Then Dan finally faced her, seeing her smile coyly at him, a twinkle in her eyes, which were the most unusual color, a clear lavender blue like wild hyacinth.

“Louisa, may I present Mr. Dan Castle, a new arrival in our city and a new customer of mine. Mr. Castle, meet Miss Shumacher, the light of my life.”

“Your daughter?” Dan asked in surprise, and he smiled. “How do you do, Miss Shumacher?” he greeted her, relieved that she was not already married.

“And meet the swains, Gerald Rathway, Manfred Bliss, and Reuben Knelville.”

Dan shook hands with the three men. He turned to take Louisa’s arm. “Sir, thank you for introducing me to your guests. Mrs. Shumacher was looking for her daughter, so I’ll take Miss Shumacher to her, if you gentlemen will excuse us.”

Charles Shumacher reflected one second of surprise in his blue eyes; then it was gone and he smiled and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Castle. We’ll talk later.”

They moved away, and she laughed. “What a liar you are!”

“What are you talking about?” he said, threading his way through the crowd toward the hall.

“My mother didn’t tell you to come searching for me! My mother doesn’t know you!”

“She does now,” he said happily, steering Miss Shumacher into the hall. “I met her when I arrived.”

“And she sent you to fetch me?”

He looked down at her and grinned. “Of course not. I wanted you all to myself.”

“You’re a bold man, Mr. Castle. First you knock me flat in the snow, next you whisk me away from everyone!” she said. “We shouldn’t leave the party.”

“No, but we’re going to,” he said, taking her arm again. She resisted, but he gazed steadfastly down into her eyes and she yielded.

“Do you always get your way?”

“I hope so,” he said, stepping into a lighted library and closing the door. She moved on, turning to face him and raising her eyebrows.

“You’ll scandalize me and get thrown out of Papa’s house!”

“I don’t think so on either count. We’ll go back in a few minutes, but I wanted you alone so I could talk to you,” he said, leaning against the door. “Otherwise I would have to share you with a wagonload of men, and I don’t care to do that.”

There was a moment of silence and he moved away from the door, stepping closer to her. “Louisa—”

“You’ll scandalize everyone if you don’t address me as Miss Shumacher.”

“Is there any one man?”

She gave him a teasing, coy look that also held speculation. “Perhaps I see one more than the others. But Reuben isn’t the only one.”

“Good. I’m going to ask your father if I can take you to…What does Denver have in the way of events where I can be your escort?”

She laughed, a musical sound, and he drew a sharp breath. He wanted to hold her in his arms. She reminded him of Melissa—dazzlingly beautiful, obviously intelligent—and he was intrigued with her in a way he hadn’t been with anyone else.

“You are the most brazen man I’ve ever met! You
want to take me out to an ‘event,’ but you don’t even have an event in mind! All you want—” She blushed and closed her mouth.

“Go ahead and say it,” he drawled in a husky voice, moving a step closer, his pulse racing.

“I don’t know about
events,”
she said, suddenly sounding uncertain and young. “There’s the church social next Friday evening. Emily Parsons is having a taffy pull in two weeks on a Saturday night.”

“What’s happening tomorrow night?”

“I’m going with my parents to a party given by the Montroses.”

Dan filed the name away in memory. Her breathing was fast, her gaze sliding away from his and back with nervous curiosity. He was drawn to her like a freezing man to warmth, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch a silky curl. As she drew a swift breath, he gazed into her eyes.

“We had better join the others,” she said somberly, all her playfulness gone. “I don’t want a scandal.”

He nodded, watching her, knowing her pulse was racing as much as his. “We’ll go back, but before the month is up, I’m going to hold you in my arms and find out what it’s like to kiss you,” he whispered.

“Sir, you are too bold!” She swept past him for the door. He reached out to spin her around to face him again.

She gasped, her breast straining against her bodice, her lips parting, her eyelids drooping as she raised her mouth, looking as if she expected him to steal a kiss now. Dan gazed down at her, wanting to kiss her, knowing he could, but also wanting to set himself apart in her mind from the flock of men who were after her.

“And when the time comes, you’re going to want to be kissed,” he said softly.

It took two heartbeats for her to realize he wasn’t going to kiss her now, and to absorb his implication that she would be as eager as he when he kissed her. Her cheeks flooded with a pink glow, and she tilted her head to gaze up at him, momentarily flustered. She could see the teasing glint, the blatant desire in his
eyes, and she regained her composure, smiling at him. She was accustomed to men losing their balance, and she wasn’t usually the one thrown off stride. Dan Castle was an interesting man she wanted to know better.

She gazed boldly back at him. “You’re as confident as you are brash. Perhaps someday, Mr. Castle, you’ll meet your match!”

He laughed, feeling sparks dance between them, wanting to haul her into his arms right now, knowing it would be best to wait.

“I’m sure that by this time my mother actually will be searching for me!” Louisa Shumacher continued. “She doesn’t allow me to single out acquaintances and slip away with them during parties.” Dan watched her leave, giving her time to return to the party alone. He didn’t care to share her with a host of eager men, each hanging on her every word, and he had no doubt that was exactly what the rest of the evening held in store. Instead, he glanced at the books on the shelves, taking one down and hearing a faint crackle of pages when he opened it. It looked as fresh as the day it had been placed on the shelf, and he guessed that no one in the Shumacher family had actually read the elegant leather-bound volumes on the shelves. His gaze ran over them, and he remembered for just an instant his childhood and his mother, Hattie, who had loved to read. She had taught him the same fascination for books, spending hours reading to him when he was small, making certain he received a new book each Christmas and each birthday. They were always treasured items. He ran his fingers along the books. Someday he would have his own library, his own leather-bound books, and enough time in his life to read.

He sauntered toward the hall without realizing he hadn’t once thought of Dulcie in the past few hours. A twinge of guilt plagued him as he joined the party, deliberately avoiding Miss Shumacher as he moved from group to group. When he went to dinner, he was surprised to discover he was seated to her right. To his left was Mrs. Byers, wife of William Byers, who published one of Denver’s newspapers, the
Rocky Mountain
News
. Dan spent his time talking to her about the newspaper.

“It seems we’re together again,” he said once, leaning close to Louisa Shumacher.

“Yes, perhaps Mama placed me next to you to welcome you into Denver society, since she knows you’re new in town. I hear you build beautiful houses.”

“I hope so. I’d like to show you mine.”

“I’d love that, but I don’t think Mama will consent.” She smiled as she slanted her head to study him. “But you’ll probably find a method to win her agreement. I suspect that most of the time, people do as you want, Mr. Castle.”

He grinned in return. “Time will tell,” he said, lowering his voice.

Her lashes fluttered, her smile becoming coy. “I suppose it really depends on what it is you want people to do. And how you go about charming them into it,” she said, her own voice becoming a throaty velvet that made him burn with heat. She was sophisticated and beautiful, flirting with him, answering his every challenge with one of her own, and he wanted her. He flicked a glance beyond her at the head of the table, saw her father engaged in conversation with the woman on his right, and then looked back at Miss Shumacher, letting his gaze drop to her bosom, looking at the soft rise of lush breasts that strained against the blue silk, the lace that fluttered against her pale skin with each breath. With an effort he raised his gaze and met hers, staring boldly without banking his desire, wanting her and deciding he would have her.