The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper (31 page)

Gennie cleared her throat and looked away, trying to find another subject upon which to converse. When nothing came to mind save those topics fraught with danger, she elected to say nothing.

“Sam told us the marshal thought that awful man’s claims were a bunch of hooey,” she said when she could stand the silence no longer. “A few men wanting to make out like there was something when there’s nothing.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what all of that means, but Sam says it’s good.”

Though he continued to concentrate on guiding the horses up the ever-narrowing road, Daniel Beck looked relieved. The buggy pitched and leaned, but the horses stayed surefooted and evenly paced.

Then the road became a path that leaned into the mountain. In order to keep from sliding against Mr. Beck, Gennie had to hold on to the buggy seat with both hands. At first, she accomplished this without
difficulty. Then the heat of the afternoon, which had already warmed her shoulders and back, took its toll on her palms.

“Let go.” Mr. Beck’s voice was nearly a growl, so low and soft did he speak. “I’ll catch you.”

And he did, grasping her around the waist with one hand while expertly guiding the horses with the other. By the time they reached a grassy spot within view of the summit, Gennie decided she rather liked the mountains after all.

In fact, she could have remained right there, gazing over the distant landscape indefinitely, such was the beauty of the view. Her companion had not yet moved, either.

Her shoulder brushing his, Gennie sighed. “It’s all so lovely.”

“Lovely, yes,” he said softly. “It is indeed.”

Abruptly, Mr. Beck climbed down from the buggy, then helped her do the same. He handed her the basket and pointed to a rock outcropping a few yards away. “I’ll tend to the horses if you want to go have a better look at the valley.”

She wandered that direction but found more interest in looking back at Daniel Beck than she did in looking down at Leadville. “Where’s your mine, Mr. Beck?” she asked when he joined her.

“There.” He gestured toward a massive collection of buildings, some with smoke billowing from tall stacks and others looking much like the storefronts downtown. He pointed out the smelter and the mine shafts, then grew silent.

“What?” she asked when she caught him looking pensive.

He shook his head. “I was just thinking how one stupid mistake almost cost me all this.”

Gennie turned away from the forests of aspen and blue spruce to lean her back on the rocks and look up at a sky so blue it hurt to stare
at it. She closed her eyes and let the sun bathe her face, not caring if she developed freckles. Each one, she decided, would carry a memory of her Wild West adventure. Of today, high in the foothills above Leadville.

The warmth of the rough granite seeped through the thin cotton of her frock to heat her back. When she lifted her eyelids a tiny bit, she could observe Daniel Beck without being noticed.

He seemed deep in thought, the corners of his eyes crinkled against the glare of the noonday sun. When he glanced down at her, she remained very still, hoping he would not know she’d been peering up at him from beneath her lashes. Slowly, his gaze washed over her, and it was all she could do not to open her eyes. Was it the sun or her close proximity to Daniel Beck that bathed her in such warmth?

He leaned onto his elbows, looking away. Disappointment set in, but then his attention returned to her.

“Miss Cooper,” he whispered. “Open your eyes.”

She did, and the sight of him took her breath away. She’d seen longing on the faces of too many fresh-faced schoolboys and attentive sons of family friends not to recognize the emotion. On Daniel Beck, however, the look was no safe wishing-for-a-kiss expression. The look was more than a promise and slightly less than a demand. She felt fear and anticipation in equal measure as she waited for the moment he would fit his lips to hers.

He ran a callused finger over her lower lip, reached for her hands and grasped them in his, then pulled her toward him. The abrupt change in position combined with the thin air to make her head spin.

She crumpled at his feet. For a moment, the world went black.

She blinked and all was right again, though she now lay in what felt to be soft grass. “I feel like such a ninny,” Gennie said. She attempted
to rise up on one elbow, only to have the mountain move and knock her back to the ground.

“Altitude sickness,” someone said as her eyes closed and strong arms wrapped around her. “Miss Cooper,” she heard through a wave of something that felt like exhaustion. “Open your eyes, Miss Cooper.”

She tried, but couldn’t accomplish the feat. She preferred to snuggle against this warmth she’d found.

“Eugenia.” Pause. “Gennie.”

A palm cradled her jaw. She leaned into it.

Then came the kiss. Soft, tender, and just as warm as the sunshine she’d enjoyed only a moment ago. Or was it longer? She had no idea.

With regret, she opened her eyes.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Daniel Beck said. “It appears you’ve got a case of altitude sickness.”

“Is that what it was?” She looked deep into his eyes. “Did you kiss me?”

“Don’t you remember?”

She blinked and nearly allowed herself to give in to sleep once more. “I thought I was dreaming.”

“So,” he said softly, “did I.”

Ed shot at her through the door’s small glass window, but such were her finely honed instincts that Mae ducked as the bullet whizzed by. She rolled to the floor and found she’d missed a spot while mopping. “The better to catch it with my lace handkerchief,” she said, handling the stain while keeping a watch for Ed.

When the shadow fell across the steaming teapot, she knew she had him. Now she only had to dispatch the criminal before dear Henry came for tea. It was a difficult job, but not above the exceptional skills of Mae Winslow, Woman of the West.

First, however, she must check on the cookies.

The ride back to Leadville was much less memorable. When Mr. Beck pulled the buggy to a halt in front of the Clarendon, Gennie felt as if she’d walked up the mountain and back, rather than ridden.

Leaning on Mr. Beck’s arm, Gennie allowed him to help her inside and seat her at a table in the dining room he’d chosen for them. A uniformed waiter soon brought a glass of water.

“No, thank you,” Gennie said, resting her elbows on the table. As she cradled her chin to keep her head up, she had the absurd thought that Mama would be horrified that she’d committed yet another breach of manners.

“Drink it,” Daniel countered in a surprisingly no-nonsense tone. “You’ll feel better.”

A beautiful young woman with stunning eyes and exquisite taste in clothing moved toward them through the maze of tables. She leaned toward Mr. Beck with what Gennie recognized as the practiced air of a coquette.

“You get her drunk too early in the evening, Danny Boy?”

“Mind your manners,” he said with a chuckle that jolted Gennie wide awake. “It’s altitude sickness.”

“Isn’t that funny?” The powdered and pampered female helped herself to the seat next to Mr. Beck, then leaned toward him, her expensive fur—a ludicrous garment to wear in July—slipping to reveal a nearly bare shoulder. “I thought she might have Daniel Beck disease. All the bad girls get it.”

“Behave.” One word, yet Gennie couldn’t decide if it was a dare or a demand.

“Me? Misbehave?” The woman offered Mr. Beck a dazzling smile, then bumped shoulders with him. “Not in public.”

“That’s enough, Mrs. Doe.”

“Call me Baby,” she said.

Baby? Of all the nerve. What sort of man flirted with a beautiful woman in front of his…

His daughter’s governess. That’s all she was, and all she should be.

After all, she had a perfectly suitable and reliable banker awaiting her return. Likely he’d already made a trip to Tiffany and Company for a diamond solitaire in that new style that was all the rage.

Except that when she looked at Mr. Beck, she forgot all about aqua-colored boxes and glittering diamonds. For the first time since stepping onto Colorado soil, Gennie wondered if Daniel Beck just might be her Wild West adventure.

She tried not to frown, but exhaustion kept her from succeeding.

“Look there,” the woman said in a singsong voice. “Your girl’s waking up.”

“I’m not his girl,” Gennie said as she attempted to stand. She got four steps from the table before returning to land in her chair once more. “I just don’t feel so well.” She looked at the beautiful woman, beyond caring about propriety. “You can have him, you know. I’m just the governess.”

The woman’s attention darted to the lone male at the table, who seemed aggravatingly smug at the jousting going on between the females. “What are you smiling at, Daniel Beck? Are you going to let this woman continue to believe she’s just the governess?”

Mr. Beck’s smile disappeared, and he suddenly looked as if he might bolt and run at any moment. Meanwhile, Gennie wished she could.

“Don’t worry, Governess. I don’t want your man.” She rose with a wink. “I’ve already got one. I would love to get to know you better. You look like you’d be a lot of fun.” She paused. “Well, after you kick this altitude sickness, that is.”

Gennie managed a smile. Maybe this woman wasn’t so bad, after all. “I’m Gennie,” she said. “Gennie Cooper.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gennie Cooper.” The woman leaned over to shake her hand. “My friends call me Baby. Baby Doe. It’s been a pleasure, Gennie. Danny Boy.”

Taking a sip of water, Gennie watched Baby Doe glide from the room. Mr. Beck, however, was watching Gennie.

“I’m fine,” she said.

He offered a weak smile. “I don’t suppose the two of us will ever manage a picnic.”

“We don’t have much luck at that, do we?”

His expression grew serious. “It’s probably for the best. I’m not certain being alone with you is a good idea.” Before Gennie could comment, he continued. “Look, I must confess the real purpose for taking that buggy ride today was not to have a picnic.” He paused. “I’ve spoken to Ira Stegman.”

Another sip of water, and Gennie began to feel closer to normal. “Oh?” She set the glass down. “Why?”

“He thinks this whole thing will blow over if you promise never to return to Leadville.”

“Never? That’s so”—she paused—“permanent.”

Mr. Beck shrugged. “I doubt they’d enforce it after a few years if you decided to come back for a visit.”

Gennie tried to imagine returning to Leadville with Chandler, but the image wouldn’t come.

“No,” she said, “I don’t think that would be much of a hardship. How and to whom do I make this promise?”

He looked a bit sheepish. “There’s more.”

“More?” She gave him a sideways look. “How much more?”

“Ira seems to think that if you admit you staged everything to try and trap me…” He froze. “No, I’ll not have a woman take the fall for me.”

He pushed away from the table and stalked out of the dining room. Still somewhat unsteady on her feet, Gennie nonetheless managed to catch up to him before he reached the street. “Where are you going?”

“ To call a meeting of the Greater Leadville Beautification and Improvement Society.” He stopped on the sidewalk to shake his head. “No, wait.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to dignify their petty complaints. Until we get on
that train back to Denver, it’s business as usual.” He started walking again and glanced at her over his shoulder. “If you need me, I’ll be at the mine office.”

Gennie watched him for a moment, then turned to go back inside. She’d almost made it to the lobby stairs when someone called her name. Turning, she saw a group of women waiting near the door, and her heart sank. The only one she recognized was Mary Stegman.

“Might we have a moment of your time, Miss Cooper?” Mrs. Stegman said. “We’d like to speak to you regarding last night’s incident.”

Squaring her shoulders, Gennie exhaled slowly. “Anything you want to say to me, you can say here.”

Another woman stepped forward. “I don’t think you want us to do that, dear.” She gave the lobby a cursory glance. “What with the Clarendon being such a busy place.”