The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (33 page)

The cookies burned, and the bullet she used to shoot One-Eyed Ed shattered her best teapot, but according to Henry, she looked lovely in her new yellow dress.

“Marry up with me, Mae,” he said for the hundredth time, “and you’ll not regret it.”

She dropped a lump of sugar in his tea and prayed the hog-tied criminal in her basement wouldn’t come to before her beau left for choir practice. If he did, Mae would have to explain her secret life.

And she was not yet brave enough to do that.

“Terribly sorry about the cookies, Henry,” she said as she heard an unmistakable thump and knew her cover was about to be blown.

“I’m not going to do it, Mr. Beck,” Gennie said. “I cannot believe you even considered it.”

Mr. Beck looked around the room at the men assembled there, then back at her. “Under the circumstances,” he said, “perhaps you should call me Daniel.”

“All right, Daniel, but I refuse to take wedding vows with a man I barely know. This is not the Dark Ages.”

“Actually,” the mayor said, “you’ve not heard the entire plan.”

Gennie looked at Daniel, her heart sinking. “There’s more?”

“Ira came up with a plan that, I’m sad to say, just might work.” He shook his head. “Though I must tell you, I can’t recall when I’ve been more furious at being railroaded into something.”

She could tell by looking at Daniel Beck that he spoke the truth. “I’m listening,” she said.

“It’s brilliant, actually,” Mr. Stegman said. “Daniel will marry you right here in this office, and then all our troubles are solved.”

“And mine are just beginning.” She shook her head. “No offense, Daniel, but I’d prefer to pick out my own husband, thank you very much.”

She turned to head for the door, but the mayor cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t be a real wedding, Miss Cooper.”

“Now how can that be?” she asked. “Where I come from, a wedding is a wedding. What’s going to be different about this one?”

Ira scratched his head, then looked over at the mayor, who nodded. “We’ve done a little research into this, and a wedding’s only legal if you turn in the paperwork for it. All we’ve got to do is lose the papers, and the wedding never happened.”

“Never happened,” the mayor echoed.

She looked at Daniel, who appeared thoroughly miserable. “I don’t know, gentlemen. Might I have a moment with the groom-to-be?”

When the office had cleared of all but Daniel Beck, Gennie took a deep breath. “I’m not going to do it.”

He shrugged. “Then don’t.”

His response stunned her. “All right.” She paused. “But what will happen if I don’t?”

“ To you? Nothing. You’ll go back to New York and marry that banker and live happily ever after.”

“So you know about Chandler Dodd?”

“I overheard some of it,” he said, “though I’ve got to say in my limited experience, a woman in love doesn’t make a habit of kissing another man.” He paused. “Especially not more than once.” He paused again. “And with such enthusiasm.”

“I didn’t have enthusiasm.”

His grin grew despite the gravity of the situation. “If that wasn’t enthusiasm, then that Dodd fellow’s a lucky man.”

A knock ended the argument she was about to make.

“What’s the verdict, folks?” the mayor called.

Daniel looked at Gennie but said nothing.

“Do I have your assurance we are just going through the motions? It’s not a real marriage?” She looked at Daniel. “My father will have your hide made into pillows if this isn’t the case. He’s a very powerful man, you know.”

“And yet powerless to control his daughter,” Daniel muttered.

“I heard that,” she said.

“As I understand it, that is correct.” Daniel called Ira and the mayor into the room. “She’s agreed, though the thought of an actual marriage to me does not make her enthusiastic.”

He punctuated the word with a wink, which Gennie ignored.

“So,” Daniel continued, “if we can be assured the paperwork for this will never be filed, then we’ve agreed to go forward with what I must say is possibly the most idiotic plan I’ve ever had the misfortune to be a part of.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Ira stuck his head out the office door. “Good news, honey,” he called to his wife. “Daniel and Miss Cooper are getting hitched.”

Daniel kept his expression unreadable. “Might I have another moment alone with my bride-to-be?”

Ira herded the mayor out with a promise to go fetch a parson. “Don’t you go running off now,” he said jovially as he closed the door.

Gennie leaned against the wall and tried to take in what was happening. Daniel, however, had begun to pace.

“You need to know that I find this situation abominable,” he said. “The thought of marrying you like this makes me absolutely furious.”

“Well,” Gennie said with as much sarcasm as she could muster, “I suppose I don’t have to worry about a wedding night.”

Daniel moved toward her, then stopped. “That, Miss Cooper, is the biggest regret I have in this whole mess.”

Hiram’s voice rang out on the other side of the door, and Daniel called to him. In a modicum of words, he explained the situation.

“Then I suppose you’ll be happy to know I’ve managed to book tickets on tomorrow’s train to Denver,” Hiram said.

“Good work, though I’d have preferred to be gone before sunset.”

“I tried, sir,” Hiram said, “but it wasn’t to be.”

Gennie took a seat near the window and pointedly ignored the men until the parson arrived. In less than three minutes’ time, and in full view of the good folks of the Greater Leadville Beautification and Improvement Society and their wives, she became a married woman.

The only person who seemed less enthusiastic than Gennie was the groom.

“What would you like me to tell Charlotte?” Gennie asked once the crowd of Leadville citizens, finally satisfied, had left.

“Tell her we’re going back to Denver tomorrow,” Daniel replied without looking up from the stack of papers on his desk.

When Gennie returned to the Clarendon, she found that news of her midday nuptials had spread quickly. After fending off congratulations and questions, she entered the solace of her chamber only to find Sam and Charlotte had been busy in her absence.

In bold letters, Sam had helped Charlotte decorate and hang a sign that said “Congratulations, Papa and Miss Cooper.”

“Oh, no.” Gennie sank onto the nearest chair. “What have we done?”

They’d done nothing, of course, except possibly lie to an entire town and one little girl who looked more than pleased to have Gennie as her new mama.

Daniel attempted to explain the situation to Charlotte upon his arrival at the Clarendon an hour later, but her ten-year-old mind couldn’t get past the fact they’d said vows in front of the preacher.

“It’s exactly like I prayed it would be,” she said. “I’m so happy.”

“Now, Buttercup,” Daniel said, “we’re just pretending.”

Her eyes wide, Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t understand, Papa. If the preacher says you’re married, then aren’t you?”

“It’s complicated.” Daniel looked to Gennie for assistance.

She turned away, leaving him to answer his daughter’s questions alone. It was, after all, because of him that she’d perpetrated this fraud.

And yet, she could’ve said no.

That thought followed her through the afternoon until, as she stepped into the hotel dining room at the usual dinner hour, she found she’d walked into what appeared to be a celebration. “What’s this?” she asked Hiram, who had planted himself near the exit.

Daniel’s assistant leaned toward her. “It appears Leadville’s elite have gathered with the purpose of having an intimate supper with the celebrities of the moment.”

Gennie frowned. “Stop being sarcastic, Hiram. There are easily a hundred people in this room, and I don’t see a single celebrity.” She slid him a sideways look as Daniel moved toward her through the crowd. “Though the president himself could be in here, and I’d never find him.”

She gestured discreetly toward a table where an inordinate amount
of attention was being placed on an older man and a lovely young woman with fair hair and curls. Gennie recognized the woman at once as the friendly person who’d introduced herself as Baby. “Who is that man with Mrs. Doe? He looks familiar. Is he her father?”

Hiram’s brows rose. “That’s Mr. Tabor. And he should look familiar. He’s our lieutenant governor.”

“I see.” She returned Mrs. Doe’s wave. “Are they friends?”

“Yes, well, that’s not exactly…” Hiram seemed at a loss, though his expression told the rest of the tale.

“Ah.” She met the woman’s gaze and exchanged smiles.

“Gennie, dear,” Daniel called when he’d nearly reached her. “Come and meet a few of my friends.”

“Really, I don’t think—”

“Good idea.” Daniel grasped her wrist and leaned in close. “Don’t think, Miss Cooper, or you’ll ruin our ruse.”

Firmly extricating herself from his grip, Gennie shook her head. “This will never work.”

“It must.”

“Look at those two,” said a man with too much hair oil as he pressed through the crowd to slap Daniel on the back. “Give your blushing bride a kiss, you lucky man.”

“In good time, Fenton.” Daniel slid Gennie a sideways glance. “Dear, this is Ike Fenton. Do say hello.”

Gennie shook his hand, only to find he wore as much oil on his fingers as on his head. She looked at her now-spotted gloves with dismay.

“Fetching thing,” Fenton said. “You got a sister back home who might want to marry up with a rich man, honey?”

Several responses occurred to her, but Daniel excused himself from the loathsome man’s company, taking Gennie with him. “A moment of
your time, dear,” he said, though his expression was far more tender than his grip.

Leading her out the nearest exit took more than a moment, and by the time he’d accomplished the feat, Gennie was glad for the respite. Her conscience was beginning to plague her worse than the store-bought slippers she wore.

“You’re doing great, Miss Cooper,” he said when he’d slipped with her into an alcove off the lobby. “I appreciate your willingness to—”

“Willingness?” Her temper flared. “Did I really have a choice? Willingness indicates a choice.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Keep my voice down?” Her blood boiled. “‘Keep your voice down, Miss Cooper. I appreciate your willingness, Miss Cooper. Do tell the parson you agree to be my wife, Miss Cooper.’ ” Gennie stomped her foot. “No, Mr. Beck, I do not recall any sort of—”

Daniel pulled her against him and kissed her. “That was for your own good as well as mine.”

“My own good?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her shaking hand. “Now I’ve positively heard it all.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Ira Stegman paused at the alcove, his wife at his side.

“It appears my bride is reluctant to remain downstairs,” Daniel said. “I’ve explained to her I’ll not take her up to the bridal suite until we’ve done our social duties at the reception.” He looked past Ira. “Much obliged for the hasty response to our nuptials, ma’am.”

Mrs. Stegman nodded, and the feathers on her bonnet swayed. “Nonsense, Daniel. You’re practically family. It was the least the Ladies’ Society could do.” She reached past her husband to grasp Gennie’s arm. “Let’s discuss what sort of position you’d like in the society.”

“I…well, that is…” Gennie looked to Daniel for help. Thankfully, he did not miss her plea.

“Now, Mrs. Stegman,” he said, yanking Gennie back into his arms. “Don’t you think her social duties might be put on hold for now?” He nuzzled Gennie’s neck. “After all, she is only just married.”

The older woman’s giggle took Gennie by surprise. “What was I thinking? Of course your wifely duties would take precedence.”

“That’s exactly what I told her.”

Wifely duties? Gennie elbowed Daniel, who quietly coughed. “Perhaps we should go in and thank our guests for this lovely reception, then, dear.”

His pained look turned genial as soon as he led her into the crowd. Gennie endured the congratulations of nearly every soul in the room before stopping at a table opposite the exit, where Charlotte sat.

The girl grasped her hand. “I thought you said it was pretend,” she whispered.

“I thought so too,” Gennie said with a sigh. “I suppose someone should tell them that.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I think you’re just teasing me.”

“Buttercup, can we continue this conversation later?” Daniel gestured to a table decked out in wedding finery. “Go and sit with Miss Cooper—that is, Gennie—and we will discuss it later.”

“I want to know now. Are you married or not?”

A couple nearby turned to look at them, and Daniel shrugged. “She’s new to the idea,” he said, engaging the husband in conversation and gesturing to Gennie behind his back to take Charlotte to the table.

Gennie groaned and linked arms with the girl. Somehow she managed to move the child to the table and get her seated. “Now, dear,” she
said when the girl refused to stop staring at her, “your father and I have explained it all to you. It’s just a little game…”

The words sounded as false as the other excuses she’d told Charlotte. As false as the ones she’d told herself.