The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 18

"All right." Gennie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. If Mae Winslow could do this, so could she. "I'm ready to try again."

The silver baron looked skeptical. "Are you suddenly over your skittishness?"

"I am."

"Give me your hand."

He placed her palm atop the horse's muzzle again, then put his over hers. After a moment, he pulled away and stepped back.

The horse's eyes moved from Mr. Beck to Gennie, regarding her impa.s.sively. By degrees, Gennie felt herself-and the horse-relax. She moved her palm up to scratch the horse behind her ear, then ran her hand down the side of her muzzle to feel the velvet softness of her nose. To her credit, Blossom endured it all without complaint or sudden movement.

Mr. Beck stepped closer and offered his palm to the horse. On it lay a carrot, which the animal plucked up and ate.

"See? She's gentle as a lamb. Charlotte rides her."

A horse that could be ridden by a child and ate carrots from the hand of a man, and Gennie was afraid to ride her? "If Charlotte can ride her, I want to as well."

Mr. Beck shook his head. "You don't have to, Miss Cooper. I can have Isak ready the buggy."

"No," Gennie said, "I want to ride this horse."

"All right, but first you'll go with me. Then we'll see if you're ready to ride alone."

Gennie gave him a relieved smile. "Yes, I would rather that, if you please."

Mr. Beck called to Isak, who quickly removed the sidesaddle from Blossom and placed a man's saddle on the mare. The silver baron easily climbed up and seated himself, but Gennie had no idea how to join him.

Isak fetched a stool, and a moment later, she found herself sideways in the saddle with Daniel Beck holding tight to her midsection. She froze, unsure how she'd remain atop the horse, and even more unsure she wanted to.

"Calm, Miss Cooper," he whispered. "Remember, a horse can sense fear."

But the harder she tried not to be afraid, the more fear set in. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Hold on a minute." He made a clicking sound, and the horse moved forward.

Gennie squealed, then covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "We're moving."

"That's right," he said. "Now hold tight to the saddle horn." He paused. "Or to me. Whichever you prefer."

She grasped what she figured to be the saddle horn and held on for dear life while Mr. Beck urged the horse in a tight circle around the carriage house. When they'd completed their lap around the small structure, Gennie called the ride a success.

"Now I can say I've ridden a horse," she said when the silver baron reined the beast to a halt.

"Not yet," he said with a chuckle. "Now hold on."

"No," she said with a squeal when the horse bolted forward at Mr. Beck's command. "You hold on-to me! I'll not fall off this monster!"

By the time they'd made a full circle around the house, Gennie almost thought she was having fun. On the second circuit, she knew she was. The third time around, she glanced at Mr. Beck over her shoulder and said, "Can you make this thing run?"

"Run?" His chuckle tickled her ear. "Of course, but I'll have to hold you tighter." He paused. "I wouldn't want you to fall off this monster."

"Yes, of course," she said.

"If you're sure."

"Do stop trying to talk me out of this, Mr. Beck."

He sighed. "All right, but I'll have to move you closer."

Gennie nodded and tightened her grip on the saddle horn. "Do what you must."

Do what you must?

Daniel groaned and hauled the blonde against him, anchoring her there with his free hand. Her slim waist made holding her as easy as when he and Charlotte rode this way, but this was decidedly not not Charlotte. Charlotte.

He looked down and noted she'd indeed worn the boots he bought for her. Unlike the last pair he'd seen on her feet, these appeared to fit. A memory of her sprawled at his feet tried to intrude on his mind, but he would not allow it.

What had begun as an innocent exercise in mending fences with the governess had quickly spiraled out of his control and into something quite different. The scent of roses and the feel of her back against his chest put Daniel in mind of more than a morning spent riding with his daughter's governess. Without much provocation, he could easily repeat the kiss of last night.

He put the thought out of his mind and pressed Blossom forward. They reached a good solid trot in no time, and he felt the mare straining to burst into her favored gallop.

"Not yet, girl," he said to the horse. "This isn't Charlotte."

Miss Cooper leaned against him as they rounded the turn on the south end of the house. "Have you any idea how humiliating it is to have one's horsemanship skills compared to those of a ten-year-old?"

"That ten-year-old's been in a saddle half her life," he quipped as they hit the straightaway. He allowed Blossom a bit more rein, and she quickly complied with a burst of speed.

The governess squealed but held on tight. Two more times around the house and he called a halt to the exercise.

"Has Blossom tired of the running?" Miss Cooper asked.

The mare could've gone all day at that pace, but Daniel needed a diversion lest his thoughts head in a direction the Lord would not approve.

"Actually, I thought to graduate you to riding alone. What's your opinion on this, Miss Cooper?"

"Alone?" The word came out as a squeak.

Blossom sensed the woman's nervousness and began to fidget. "All right, I can see we may be ahead of ourselves on this." He motioned to Isak, who quickly came to his rescue. "Help Miss Cooper down, then fetch the rig and the basket."

The lad did as he was told, and soon the governess's booted feet stood on solid ground again. Daniel, however, required one more trip around the house at a full gallop before he was ready to call an end to the riding and climb aboard the more civil buggy.

"Give her an extra treat and take care in grooming her," he called to Isak as the young man led Blossom back into the stables.

"I will, sir," Isak said, "and enjoy your adventure. Mama said not to worry. She'd see that Charlotte was fetched home from school."

With a nod, Daniel headed out. Likely they'd be back well before time to fetch Charlotte from her lessons. A smart man would've waited and brought the child along.

When it came to Miss Eugenia Cooper, Daniel knew he could be accused of acting in a number of ways, but smart was not among them. This much became obvious when he turned the rig onto Eighteenth Street and merged with the traffic that plagued the growing city.

At every turn, he saw someone he knew. Each time, he tipped his hat, then wondered what they would say about the lovely, unknown blonde at his side. The word would likely be out before the next beer could be served over at John Asmussen's Saloon in Hop Alley.

For some reason, Daniel seemed doomed to continually be the focus of interest for mothers with daughters of marriageable age. It was a curse he tried to avoid at every turn. Only his time in Leadville seemed free from the plague that was Denver's social season. And unlike his native England, where the season was a brief moment in a year, it seemed here one could find diversion every night if so inclined.

Thus, Daniel kept to home when in Denver, and to arriving alone when events could not be missed. His ride down the middle of town would certainly set tongues wagging. It might also, however, give some the impression he was no longer on the marriage market. Daniel smiled. This buggy ride downtown might be the best move he hadn't intended to make.

"Oh, look." Miss Cooper touched his sleeve, then pointed to the sidewalk some distance away. "There's Anna Finch and her mother. We should stop and invite them to come with us. Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Why indeed?" Daniel said without enthusiasm as he negotiated the tangle of buggies and riders until he reached the curb. Miss Cooper leaned out to greet the Finch women and extend the invitation.

"Oh no, we couldn't," said Mrs. Finch.

"But, Mama, it's a lovely day, and we have no lunch plans that can't be easily canceled," Anna said.

A discussion ensued while Daniel sat mute, unable to discern which way to pray on the matter. If his time spent thus far with the governess was any indicator, a trip alone into the high desert could be fraught with dangers that paled in comparison to rattlesnakes and bobcats. For those things, he had a rifle under the buckboard and his Colt strapped to his thigh.

It was the other danger, that of a pretty woman looking for adventure, that tugged at his heart and made him glad the Finch women were now approaching.

"Are you certain you don't mind the intrusion?" Mrs. Finch asked as she helped herself to the spot beside him.

"You know you're always welcome, Mrs. Finch," he said. "And I warrant Elias has once again prepared a feast for ten rather than two, so there will be plenty for all."

"Oh, I do hope he's sent some of his roasted hen. I do love a good roasted hen. I've tried a dozen times to pry that recipe out of him, but he won't tell a living soul."

She paused, and Daniel opened his mouth to comment, but she immediately turned to another topic. He could but nod as the older woman prattled on.

Miss Cooper moved into his line of sight looking fresh as a daisy and twice as pretty. The remembrance of her straight back pressed against his chest bore hard on him, and for a moment, Daniel allowed it. She'd smelled like roses and felt like heaven in his arms.

He should've fired her when he had the chance instead of laying down the law to Charlotte over breakfast and threatening to send her to boarding school should she make the slightest misstep where the governess was concerned.

And now the one plotting missteps was Daniel himself.

Thank You, Lord, for saving me from certain disaster. And yet, as the balance in the buggy swung from one man and one woman to one man and three women, Daniel wondered whether he'd been saved from disaster or merely invited a different kind. And yet, as the balance in the buggy swung from one man and one woman to one man and three women, Daniel wondered whether he'd been saved from disaster or merely invited a different kind.

"My pleasure, ladies," he said, waiting until Anna and Miss Cooper were seated behind them. "Hold on to your hats. It's going to be a wild ride."

He urged the matched bays back into the slow-moving Denver traffic.

"Oh dear, my plumes are flying," Mrs. Finch called as she latched gloved hands to her feathered headgear. "Do slow down, Daniel. Where's the fire?"

A poor question to ask a man fresh from the torture of spending time with Gennie Cooper. "I don't know, Mrs. Finch," he said, sliding a grin to the woman beside him. "Though I'm bound to find it if I can just get this buggy moving faster."

He slapped the reins, and they were off. If Blue Eyes wanted a Wild West adventure, Daniel would show her what a carriage ride could be with a man who knew how to drive one.

Two turns and a near miss with a mule later, Daniel felt suitably chastised and a bit embarra.s.sed at his poor behavior. They limped along the lane at a snail's pace until he reached the site he'd chosen for today's picnic.

Settling three ladies, a blanket, and Elias's food basket onto the prairie in full view of the snowcapped Rockies nearly did him in. To top it off, his spot next to Miss Cooper was taken by Anna's mother.

"I've got you over there," she said, gesturing to a place barely big enough for a lad in knee britches. "Anna, do help Daniel with his plate."

Before he could protest, half the winter's larder sat on the ridiculous china plates Elias had packed. He wedged himself into his a.s.signed seat and stabbed at cold chicken with a gold fork. If he couldn't manage to enjoy the picnic, at least he could enjoy the food. While he chewed, he watched the ladies pick their portions as if the food was priced by the ounce.

Mrs. Finch gave up on her hat and flipped the feathered creation backward, where it fell onto the gra.s.s. Something about the awful thing reminded him of the priceless piece of art the governess required banished.

"A penny for your thoughts," Anna said. "You appear to be enjoying them."

Daniel slid his gaze past Anna to rest on Blue Eyes. "I am," he said.

And he was, preferring to entertain himself in the quiet enjoyment of the food while the ladies chatted.

"You must attend," he heard Mrs. Finch say to Gennie.

"Perhaps," was her coy response.

"I'm sure our Mr. Beck will accompany you."

He popped a slice of apple in his mouth and chewed slowly while the ladies stared at him.

"I'm afraid he'll be away that evening," Miss Cooper said after a moment. "Leadville, isn't it?"

"Leadville?" he managed as he swallowed. Then he realized the governess was saving his hide. "Oh, Leadville. Yes." He shrugged. "A pity, but I fear she's correct. Leadville. Yes, that's where I'll be."

And thus Miss Cooper went in one moment from the bane of his existence to the reason he wore a smile. Perhaps he should keep her around, if only to deflect the advances of the Finch women. An entertaining thought.

"Dear," Mrs. Finch said later as he helped her into the buggy, "your Miss Cooper is a delight."

He looked past the older woman to where Gennie and Anna stood together. Heads bent toward each other, the pair appeared thick as thieves.

"She is, isn't she?" he said. "Though I confess she vexes me at times."

The elder Finch adjusted her feathered hat, then placed her hand atop Daniel's. "Of course she does, dear. Though I wager she might not cause such turmoil should you elect to stop kissing her on your front lawn."

"Why, Mrs. Finch," he said with as wicked a grin as he could manage. "Are you jealous?"

To her credit, Mrs. Finch winked. "Dear, if I weren't old as the hills and happily married, I just might show you a thing or two about the art of wooing. However, as you've missed me by a generation, I'll leave you with this thought."

Anna and Gennie broke off their powwow and headed toward the carriage. "Please do."

She tapped his arm with her fan. "Sometimes what the Lord meant for you is right under your nose, and you're so close you miss it altogether."

"Didn't expect me, did you?" the ruffian asked.

"Actually, I did, Edward," Mae said as if she'd been planning a party and he'd shown up right on time. "Bad pennies, you know. They always turn up."

"That's not funny, Mae." He c.o.c.ked the weapon. "Take it back." She was about to when behind him she spied what might be her solution. Or, as things generally went with the horse named Lucky, her doom.