The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper Part 22

Gennie went to the girl and sat on the edge of her bed. "Do you think you could sleep if I were to sit with you for a bit?"

"Maybe," Charlotte said, though a few minutes later the child once again slept soundly.

Tiptoeing back toward her bed, Gennie paused at the window. Even at this time of night, the streets of Leadville were filled with people. Men fell in and out of saloons, a.s.sisted or lured by women dressed in silks and satins.

Gennie shut the curtain and shed her wrapper, then climbed back into bed. Today had been a long one, fraught with excitement. At the thought of aiming a pistol at anyone, she shuddered. What had come over her? When she saw that man chasing Charlotte, all she could think of was saving the child. If that meant shooting a man, then she would have.

She let out a long breath. "Thank You, Lord, that there were no bullets in the pistol."

Continuing in that vein, she offered prayers until her thoughts began to scatter. Finally, she managed to close both eyes and keep them closed.

Sleep overtook her in moments, or at least it felt like sleep. Her body heavy and her mind slow as mola.s.ses, she barely reacted when someone in the room below banged on the wall. Waiting for more, she heard no further noise. Then came heavy footsteps. Sam.

"Miss Cooper?"

"We're fine, Sam."

"Very well." His paces took him away from the door.

She'd almost fallen back to sleep when Charlotte let out a loud scream. Gennie bounded from the bed without bothering to throw on her wrapper. Unless the child was quieted quickly, the entire floor would be awake.

This time, however, Charlotte refused to be consoled. Her screams split the night and almost covered the sound of Sam's knocking at the door.

"We're fine," she called. "Just a bad dream. No need to worry."

"Open the door," she thought she heard someone say, but with Charlotte screaming in her ear, there was little she could discern.

Someone pounded again on the door, or at least it seemed that way from the changes in light she could see beneath the door. Perhaps it was Sam pacing. Or, given the volume of the girl's shrieks, it might be any or all of the folks unlucky enough to be staying on the third floor tonight.

Gennie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the door flew open and a man covered in some sort of cloak rushed inside. In the dark, all she knew was this did not look anything like the monster a.s.signed to guard them from down the hall.

Her screams joined Charlotte's. She called for help and Daniel Beck, caring not that she hadn't thought to slip back into her wrapper.

Then the gaslights came on, and Daniel Beck stood in front of her.

He reached her before she could flee to him. He embraced her quickly, then flew to Charlotte's side and took his daughter in his arms. "Are you hurt?"

Gennie looked down at her state of undress, then over at Charlotte, who had finally awakened and now regarded them with curiosity. Reaching for a blanket to cover up only made things worse, for the bed covers had been tucked in so tight by the efficient Mrs. Stegman that it was nearly impossible to remove them.

She finally managed it, just as she realized the noise had brought not only Daniel Beck, but also most of the occupants of the third floor, along with Mr. and Mrs. Stegman. The only person she didn't immediately see was the bodyguard. He appeared a few seconds later, out of breath and looking as if he'd just wakened from a deep sleep.

Mr. Beck stood and grasped her by the elbows. "What happened?"

"Screams," she managed as she pulled away. Her breath came in gasps, the words unable to form despite her best efforts. By degrees, she realized Mr. Beck wore not a cloak but a bed sheet. It slipped off, revealing an expanse of bare chest he quickly hid by tying the fabric on like a toga.

"Try again," he said. "Was someone in here? Have you or Charlotte been harmed?"

"Then more screams, and I couldn't hear the knock. And then the door opened, and without telling me who it was, the man...you..." She gasped for breath, then pointed to the door. "Hurt? I don't think so," she finally managed.

Slowly Mr. Beck turned to greet their audience. His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat. "It's really quite humorous how this happened," he said as he adjusted his toga.

"Out of the room at once, Mr. Beck," Mr. Stegman said, nothing in his voice even suggesting humor.

"But my daughter..." He pointed to Charlotte, who looked no worse for the fright she'd given them all.

"Your daughter looks fine," Mary Stegman said. "Your governess, however, looks as if she might have just climbed from the bed."

A stunned murmur rolled forward from the back of the crowd a.s.sembled in the hallway. By the time it reached Mary, she'd obviously become immune.

"Leave my establishment at once," she said.

"But..." Mr. Beck stammered on about payments and friendships, then began again to protest his innocence. As an afterthought, he also added that Gennie too was unsoiled.

Before long, Gennie had heard quite enough. "Excuse me," she said, but Daniel and Mrs. Stegman continued to argue. "Excuse me," she repeated, but only Charlotte seemed to hear. She'd absolutely had enough. "Would you all just stop talking and listen to me?"

The room fell into stunned silence, and Gennie realized she had no words of brilliance at the ready.

"This is not what it appears," she said. "You see, I am certain the events of the day were just too much for Charlotte. She had a nightmare and could not wake from it."

"An excellent theory," Mrs. Stegman said, "and yet you're standing here with no shame whatsoever wearing my bed quilt over what looks to be quite an expensive nightgown. I told you today that things are not always as they seem." She gave Gennie a disgusted look. "I believe you've proved this fact, Miss Cooper."

"No, honestly," Gennie continued. "There's nothing going on between Charlotte's father and me."

"Then why would that child say you kissed her father?" When Gennie had no immediate words of reb.u.t.tal, the innkeeper shook her head. "I think what we have here is two people who couldn't control themselves even though there is an impressionable girl right under their noses."

"Look now," Mr. Beck said. "Come on, Ira. You know me. You know I'm not that kind of man." When Mr. Stegman looked away, Gennie's employer turned to Mrs. Stegman. "Mary, listen to reason. You've got a wrong impression of us. I vow I'll not let you down if you'll just brew a pot of coffee and let us all talk about this downstairs in the kitchen."

"All of us?" She glanced behind her, then returned her gaze to Mr. Beck. "I don't think the occupants of the entire third floor would fit in my kitchen. For that gathering, you'll need a bigger venue." She laughed, but the sound held no humor. "What say we wake up your friend Horace Tabor and borrow his opera house? Indeed, that might hold all the people who have been forced to witness your cavorting about in your unmentionables with a woman in her nightgown." She paused to take a breath. "An unmarried woman you have already kissed."

Another pause, and then Charlotte ran to Gennie and began to wail.

"Everything's going to be fine, b.u.t.tercup," Daniel said.

But from the looks on the faces staring at him, it would not. The situation was ludicrous at best and downright irritating. He'd put too much money and time into the town of Leadville to have their citizenry accusing him of such outrageous acts.

He adjusted his toga and attempted a glare. When the president of the Greater Leadville Beautification and Improvement Society looked away, Mr. Beck turned to its first lady. "You know me, Mary. I set you and Ira up with this establishment because I believed in what you wanted to accomplish. You're good people, and this is an upstanding establishment."

"Exactly the reason we can't tolerate lewd behavior." Mary looked down her nose at his costume, then back up at his face. "There are any number of other places where this kind of behavior is not only allowed, but encouraged. Go there and leave us be."

Anger flared and Daniel clenched his fists. "Would someone just listen?"

"Go right ahead," Ira said. "Deny it all, please, or explain it away, so I can get some sleep."

Daniel looked to Ira's brother. "Sam," he said, "you've been outside the door all night. Tell them this is not what it looks like. Tell them I've been in my own room until just now, like the rest of you."

Sam looked sheepish. "Well, actually, the first thing I saw was you here in the room. You must've been awfully quiet when you snuck in to see the lady."

"But I didn't sneak-"

"I've heard enough, Daniel Beck, and I'll not have you and your kind corrupting anyone else. Out of my hotel!" Mary Stegman shouted. "The whole lot of you, and don't come back until you've made a decent woman of this, this...tart!"

"Now, see here," Daniel said, "Miss Cooper is a fine, upstanding woman who would never corrupt anyone." He glanced over his shoulder to see the governess huddled beneath a blanket in a condition that certainly belied his statement. "Why not ask Charlotte what happened? She is innocent in all this and should be able to give an honest accounting of the events."

Mary looked doubtful, but Ira stepped forward and nodded. "Yes, all right. Let's hear what the girl has to say."

"Charlotte, honey," Daniel said as gently as he could manage, "would you tell them what happened tonight?"

His daughter nodded and nestled closer to Miss Cooper. "I heard scary-people noises."

Daniel took note of the crowd at the door, then focused on Mary Stegman. Irritation still rode high, but he'd not let his reputation or that of Miss Cooper be ruined over a misunderstanding.

"Charlotte, could you tell the nice people about how you screamed, and then Miss Cooper and I came to your rescue?"

"Oh yes," she said. "When I opened my eyes, both of you were here. You hugged us, just like the day when you hugged Miss Cooper, only this time I was there too."

"When your papa hugged Miss Cooper?" Ira Stegman asked.

Charlotte nodded. "I was watching from the window that time, and they were right out in front of the house, so it wasn't really like spying because anyone could have seen them when my papa kissed her."

"Out!" Mary Stegman said, then turned to her husband. "And if you don't see to it, I will."

Ira caught Daniel's gaze and shrugged. "Mary's right. How can we change this town if we on the committee don't live up to the moral standards we voted in, Daniel?"

"Standards?"

Ira shook his head. "You were there when we took the vote. In fact, if memory serves me correctly, you seconded the motion."

Had he? So much had happened since he'd joined the committee in the opera house. Perhaps he had voted something in without completely understanding what he'd agreed to.

The sheet began to slip, and he gripped it tighter. "So exactly what rule did I agree to that you now think I've broken?"

Ira looked him up and down, then raked his gaze over Miss Cooper as if she were a prize heifer up at auction. "A code of general moral decency, Daniel. While it may be fine for others to go out and frequent the sporting women, the Lord says it's not fine, and so does the committee. And that's just one of the rules you've broken here tonight."

"Are you calling Miss Cooper a-"

"I'm saying she was paid for something, Daniel. And from the looks of it, watching your daughter is just one of her duties."

Daniel took a step forward, rage blurring his vision. And yet his daughter was watching, which meant he must temper not only his words, but also his behavior. "I will not have you refer to Miss Cooper in such a way, nor will I tolerate your insinuations."

Ira's gaze didn't waver. "I'll not make you pack up, but you can't stay with us the rest of the night. Take the woman and your daughter and go. You can send someone to get your things tomorrow." He paused. "And per the terms of the agreement you've broken, there are penalties. I'll have to review the wording and get back to you on exactly what those are, so you can count on a visit from me tomorrow at your office." Ira swept his gaze over Miss Cooper in a less-than-gentlemanly fashion. "Likely you'll sleep through breakfast, so let's say a quarter to ten."

From the back of the crowd, Hiram elbowed his way through. One look at him and Daniel knew he'd slept through all but the last few minutes of the fiasco.

"What's going on here?" he asked. "And where in the world are your pants, Mr. Beck?"

And yet terror was a companion she could easily shed, even when it threatened to stay far longer than it was welcome. Mae took a deep breath and remembered who she was: Mae Winslow, Woman of the West. Domesticity was nothing to fear.

Slipping back into the lace-curtained cottage with furniture from back East and needlepoint pillows on the settee was accomplished easily enough. Remembering how to act like she lived here was not nearly as simple.

Oh, it was her home, bought and paid for with the countless bounties she'd collected over the years, but tatting lace doilies when she attempted it was fraught with more danger than killing snakes.

Still, her respectable lawyer awaited, and Mae would make tea and cookies and welcome him into her parlor if it killed her.

And given the face on the other side of the back door, it might.

Daniel leaned his elbows on his desk and tried in vain to stretch out the kinks in his back. With only one room left at the Clarendon, he'd cajoled Sam into guarding the women at that hotel, then slept on the floor of Hiram's room back at the Mountain Palace.

And he'd practically had to beg to be allowed to do that.

With each twinge of his back, his anger increased. The fact that a law-abiding father couldn't see to the welfare of his daughter chafed at him.

"I'm all for this campaign to run the seedier side of the community out of the city limits," he told Hiram, "but I'm not sure what to make of it when I'm tarred with the same brush as people who actually deserve it."

Hiram didn't look up, though he did pause in his scribbling.

"And then there are these ridiculous sanctions Ira prattled on about." He stood and began to pace. "I'm a businessman, Hiram, and a good one. I've had more than my share of opportunities to indulge in ill-mannered behavior, but have I?"

He waited until it became apparent his second-in-command did not plan to respond. Of course Hiram knew the answer.

"That's right. I haven't. And why?" This time he didn't bother to wait. "Because I am a man of honor. Of character. Of..." Daniel once again sank into his chair. "I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

His a.s.sistant nodded, setting aside his notes. "It appears so. I've had a chance to see this resolution you and the other members of the committee drafted."

"And?"

Hiram sighed. "And the moral turpitude clause is a concern."

"A concern?" Daniel shook his head. "How so?"

"It appears last night's lapse in judgment may actually have actionable consequences." Hiram steepled his hands. "The question is whether Mr. Stegman will let this debacle die a quiet death or choose to make an example out of you."

Daniel picked up his pen, then set it back against the inkwell. "You've met Mary Stegman. Which do you think will happen?"

Checking his watch, Hiram shrugged. "You're about to find out. What say I go and fetch the trunks? The clerk over at the Clarendon promised there would be another room vacant for us tonight."

The idea of sharing a room with Hiram irked him, but not as much as the reason for it. He nodded and sent the man on his way. While he awaited Ira's arrival, Daniel bypa.s.sed the stack of doc.u.ments needing his attention and reached into the drawer for the Bible he kept there.

A ribbon held his place in Isaiah, and he opened to that spot. "'Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.' " He sighed. "Isn't that the truth?"

Daniel turned to see Ira Stegman entering his office, and rose, setting his Bible aside. He gestured to the seat across from him, then remained standing until the hotel owner had made himself comfortable.

"Well, now," Stegman said, "I'd like to think you're actually reading that Bible rather than just hoping I'd catch you looking at it."