Daniel stopped short and let a buggy full of females pa.s.s, keeping his attention focused on the livery and not the enticement a quartet of finely dressed women offered. By necessity, his was a solitary life, and one of the reasons for that rode in the back of the buggy beside the mayor"s daughter.
"Lovely morning, isn"t it, Mr. Beck?" Anna Finch called.
Daniel tipped his hat at Barnaby Finch"s youngest daughter and her companions. "Indeed it is, Miss Finch. Ladies."
Anna leaned forward, holding on to her absurd creation of a hat with both hands. "Will I see you at the Miller soiree this evening?"
Daniel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At best, the Miller soiree would be an evening of pointless and below-average conversation. At worst, the occasion would be another in a seemingly endless parade of political events disguised as parlor entertainment. In either case, he"d rather be horsewhipped than attend.
Unfortunately, Anna Finch took his silent no for a yes.
"I look forward to renewing our acquaintance then, Mr. Beck," she called as the buggy turned and mercifully disappeared around the corner.
Barnaby Finch, Daniel"s neighbor, had been trying to p.a.w.n Anna off on him since she returned from her East Coast school last summer. For her part, Anna seemed a more-than-willing partic.i.p.ant in the scheme. Obviously Finch figured he owned half of Colorado, so buying a husband for his youngest shouldn"t be an issue. He"d certainly had no trouble betrothing the other four in a similar fashion.
But Daniel Beck could not be bought. Better men than Barnaby Finch had tried and failed.
Daniel jerked off his collar and tossed it behind him while he waited for a team of slow moving mules to pa.s.s. The delay allowed his a.s.sistant to catch up. Rather than fall in step beside Daniel, the young man planted himself squarely in his path. In one hand he held Daniel"s muddied collar; in the other was a fistful of papers.
Daniel gave Hiram a look that had caused many a grown man to shrink back in fear. His a.s.sistant, however, merely pressed on with his cause.
"I would be remiss in my duties if I let you leave without calling your attention to the importance of these." He thrust the papers toward Daniel. "Mr. Beck, I must insist."
"You must insist, Hiram?" Daniel tempered his urge to laugh. "Very well."
He folded the doc.u.ments in half and stuffed them into his pocket, then pressed past a buckboard filled with mining equipment to reach the front of the livery. The rush of activity inside let Daniel know his presence had been noted and his horse was being prepared.
"Are you finished, Hiram?"
While his a.s.sistant nodded, a boy hurried toward Daniel with boots and riding attire.
"Excellent," Daniel said. "Your work here is done. I suggest you return to the office." He turned to enter the livery, then thought better of his abrupt dismissal. "Hiram," he called, and the young man trotted back toward him. "Please understand I appreciate your efforts." He patted his pocket. "And rest a.s.sured I will read these today."
An hour later, with a bracing wind cutting across his face and the city of Denver at his back, Daniel decided he might not read anything work related today. Maybe not even tomorrow, as he had a bedroll in his saddlebag.
Then he thought of Charlotte. So like her late mother, and so unlike the Beck family whose heritage she shared. Thank You, Lord, for that dual blessing. Thank You, Lord, for that dual blessing.
Just this morning, the imp had yanked on his coattails as he headed for the door and asked, "Are you leaving me again, Papa? Won"t you be home tonight to play charades?"
Daniel halted the mare beside a gurgling stream. Charlotte was a Beck in one way: what she wanted, she generally got. He smiled. And what she stated with firmness that morning was that she required her papa to tuck her into bed tonight.
"So be it." Daniel glanced at the sun overhead, then jumped down to water the horse. A stiff breeze whipped past and caught the papers in his pocket, sending them flying. He retrieved the ones he could, then climbed into the saddle and chased down the last. When his fingers finally closed around the fleeing envelope, his eyes took in the distinctly British stamps.
A letter from Beck Manor.
His heart sank. How had they found him? Moreover, why?
He turned the letter over and stared at the handwriting as if it might hold the key. Unless he missed his guess, his father"s hand and not Edwin"s wrote this.
Not that it mattered. He hadn"t wanted either to find him, much less send a letter as if he were still a member of the Beck clan.
Daniel shoved the letter back into his pocket, out of sight, and dug in his heels, urging the mare toward home.
When he arrived, Charlotte met him at the barn with a laugh more like his brother"s than her mother"s. He thought of the letter in his pocket, and for a second, his temper flared.
"Ride me twice around the barn," she called.
Daniel reached down and scooped the girl into the saddle ahead of him. The great antidote to any anger was his daughter, he remembered, as they flew at high speed in a circle so familiar the poor horse could likely run the path in her sleep.
After two laps, Charlotte was content to sail off the horse into his arms, then float to the ground in a swirl of arms, legs, and braids. Again she laughed, and this time it stabbed his heart even as it made him smile.
As was their custom, Charlotte led him around the front of the house, and then, as if she were a lady coming to call, he opened the gate for her with a sweeping bow. Any pa.s.serby would think him daft for knocking at the door of his own home, but Charlotte loved to make a grand entrance.
The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing Elias Howe, who today wore the colors of his former Confederate regiment as well as a smart cap of dark wool that covered most of his gray curls. "Fancy meeting you here, miss. Top of the evening," he said as if he hadn"t performed this routine for Charlotte almost daily since she came to live with them.
Had it been five years already?
"Charmed, Mr. Howe," the ten-year-old said with mock formality, tugging on the strap of her overalls. "Has my lady-in-waiting departed for the evening?" she asked in an awful attempt at Daniel"s British accent.
"Indeed she has," Elias said. "Tova"s done headed home for the night. A day of cleaning up after the likes of you has exhausted her." Elias smiled at Daniel over Charlotte"s head. "Evenin", Daniel."
Daniel responded in kind, but his attention was fully on Charlotte. He was besotted with the child, as was Elias, the old ship"s cook, who bent his creaking bones into a formal bow that would have pa.s.sed as appropriate in Queen Victoria"s drawing room.
The thought reminded him of the letter in his pocket, likely from a man duly knighted, who had taken tea in Her Majesty"s drawing room more than once.
Daniel"s fingers worried the edge of the letter, then abruptly withdrew from his pocket. The earl would probably like nothing better than to cast a pall on his evening with Charlotte. The letter would have to wait.
"Go wash up, Charlotte," he said, repeating the command twice before the princess-in-training deemed it worthy of a response.
"You know I prefer Charlie."
"And I I prefer a daughter who does not speak in an unladylike manner to her father, prefer a daughter who does not speak in an unladylike manner to her father, Charlotte. Charlotte." He paused to put on his sternest look, a difficult feat given the grin on the girl"s face. "Surely Miss McTaggart taught you the proper way to converse with your elders."
The face she made nearly caused him to believe the argument was over. "Miss McTaggart had too many rules," she said, turning a perfectly sweet expression into a pout.
"Good rules, I warrant," he replied, "and I shall see that the new Nanny McTaggart also upholds these rules."
"I like Tova better."
Daniel sighed. "Tova is a housekeeper, b.u.t.tercup. And while she"s invaluable to us, she hasn"t the time or the ability to teach you the skills needed to be a proper lady. That"s the job of your governess."
"Papa, I told you I"m old enough not to-"
"Not to argue with your father?" He paused for effect. "Indeed, you are that. Now go and prepare for dinner before I lose my patience."
The little charmer grinned. For all her ability to push against his authority, Charlotte certainly knew when to cut her losses and run. She hugged him, eyes wide, and kissed his cheek. "Yes, Papa," she said as she skipped off, he hoped, toward soap and water.
Elias took his hat and coat, chuckling. "She"s a handful, that one."
Daniel followed him into the dining room, where a bountiful feast had been laid. "Elias, you"ve done it again. Unless Tova and Isak are joining us, you only needed to feed three."
"It"s only us tonight," Elias said, "but none of us shall leave the table hungry."
Daniel reached for a slice of bread and tore off a corner. "Should we eat even half of this, none of us could leave the table at all."
"You know I"ve only one set of recipes, and they"re for a shipload. If you don"t like it, hire a real cook."
"What would I do with a real cook? I keep you here for entertainment value, not your cooking." The statement was patently false, as evidenced by the bite of rye bread Daniel popped into his mouth.
"Try to complain now, lad. I baked your favorite." Elias"s laughter trailed behind him as he disappeared into the kitchen.
Rather than follow, Daniel moved to the window that filled one end of the room. Clouds gathering above the distant peaks foretold of rain. Likely the mines were already being soaked.
Though the strike that crippled the mines in May and June had been halted and their leader finally captured and placed under arrest, the underlying issues still remained. The men wanted better working conditions and a bigger share of what was quickly becoming a substantial pie, and now they"d had a taste of what striking might accomplish. A storm would do nothing to improve their temperaments.
One more thing to deal with upon his arrival.
An off-key version of a familiar sailing song drifted under the kitchen door. Daniel smiled. For all the grief that awaited him in Leadville and, likely, the trouble that would come with the opening of his father"s letter, still he could find a haven here.
Trouble could not touch him inside his home.
Through dinner with Charlotte, charades, and a bedtime routine that included two trips to the library for just the right book, Daniel tried to ignore the letter in his pocket. Coffee and a game of chess with Elias followed, and still he postponed reading the doc.u.ments.
"Something bothering you, lad?" Elias asked.
"Bothering me?" He moved his queen into position to take Elias"s king, then looked up. "Check."
"You sure?"
Daniel nodded as his opponent countered and called checkmate.
He sat back and frowned. He"d missed the obvious.
"I"ll not ask why you let me win," Elias said, "though I will inquire whether I might be of service in whatever problem you"re contemplating."
Daniel thought only a second before pulling the letter from his coat pocket and setting it on the chessboard.
Elias glanced down, then looked at him with narrowed eyes. "So the old man"s found you."
A statement, not a question. Interesting that Elias, too, never considered the letter could be from Edwin rather than his father. Edwin would never write. He was too much of a coward. Only the earl would send a letter to a son he"d declared as good as dead ten years ago. Likely Edwin was still too busy celebrating the victory.
"It appears so," Daniel said as he returned the letter to his pocket.
"What does your pa want from you?" Elias gasped. "Not her?"
Daniel shook his head. "I don"t know. I haven"t opened it."
"I see." Elias rose and yawned with more enthusiasm than necessary. "Besting you at chess sure has made me sleepy. I believe I"ll turn in and leave the supper dishes for Tova. She always loves it when I do that."
Daniel mustered a smile. "I think you"re harboring a secret crush for our housekeeper, Elias."
"Why would you say something as foolish as that?" Elias stepped over Daniel"s outstretched legs to walk away. "You know I never did like a bossy woman. Why, that Tova, she"s about the bossiest of all the..."
His voice trailed off as the old seaman disappeared down the hallway toward his bedchamber. A slamming door punctuated the sentiment.
"Methinks thou dost protest too much, dear friend." Daniel reached for his lukewarm coffee and smiled, until he felt the letter shift in his pocket. He touched it, then once again placed it atop the chessboard.
"What do you want from me after all these years, old man?" he whispered.
Daniel held the envelope up to the light, then turned and extinguished the lamp. Alone in the darkness, he crumpled the letter and stuffed it into his pocket, then walked upstairs to his room, feeling older than the person who penned the words he dreaded reading.
He settled heavily into the old leather chair by the fire; the chair Georgiana had only tolerated because it was his favorite. Closing his eyes, Daniel let the image of a golden-haired woman heavy with child, her skirts lifted just above the gurgling water of a mountain-fed stream, sneak into his mind. With it came the rage.
"Papa?"
Daniel opened his eyes to find Charlotte peering around the door. "You should be sleeping, b.u.t.tercup."
Bare feet pattered across the floor, and Charlotte launched herself into the chair with him. He caught the imp and tucked her into his lap, the top of her head nestled beneath his chin.
Legs that had grown long and coltish tangled around his, evoking memories of Charlotte at five. Newly arrived and shy, she"d kept her distance, preferring her mother to the man she refused to call Papa.
Where had the time gone? In the blink of an eye, the reticent five-year-old had stolen his heart and, upon her mother"s death, filled the abyss of grief with rays of brilliant green-eyed sunshine. Contemplating where he would be without Charlotte was impossible.
"My new nanny is coming soon, isn"t she?"
Daniel hauled his mind back to the present and thought carefully before answering. "Yes, the new Miss McTaggart"s to arrive in two days, I believe."
"I was thinking, Papa." She peered up at him with her mother"s eyes. "Maybe I don"t need a nanny. I"ll be eleven soon. That"s practically grown-up. I think I can manage just fine."
"Eleven is eleven, b.u.t.tercup. Twenty, now that"s grown-up." He gathered her back into his arms and held her, as outside, the night sounds rose. "And for the record, you only just turned ten."
Charlotte yawned. "Can I fall asleep here?"
"Of course." His heart lurched again. How many more years did he have before his little girl cared less for her papa than she did for her friends or, worse yet, gentleman callers?
The only sounds came from outside the open window. He patted her curls, the one visible feature she"d inherited from the Becks, and closed his eyes.
"Papa?"
"Shh."
He let out a sigh he hoped his daughter would take as exasperation. In truth, it spoke of pure contentment. Was there anything better than sitting in a comfortable chair on a cool evening with a cherub in your arms?
If only things could be managed in his absence, but Daniel knew running a business in Leadville meant he must attend to things there. Nothing was more difficult than leaving his daughter, especially now that her protests had become more vocal. His absences might perturb her now, but she was just a child. Someday she would know that his work was done with only her in mind.
Until that time, she needed a firm hand and a feminine influence. Hopefully the new Nanny McTaggart would provide that. Her predecessor had only been gone a month, and already he saw signs that what little the dear woman had managed to do in the way of civilizing Charlotte was coming undone. Just yesterday, Hiram had come to him with the distressing story that he thought he"d seen Charlotte among a group of youthful troublemakers tipping the spittoon in a nearby saloon, then pocketing money off the card tables in the ensuing melee. Then there was the neighbor who"d come to Tova, complaining of a pie with half its filling missing. Only Charlotte had been seen in the vicinity.
He"d expressed doubt to Tova about the girl"s involvement, but in his heart Daniel wondered. She was a bit high-spirited. Adventurous, even. But petty crime? Not his Charlotte.