“I am.”
“Not changing my mind, Rhine. To have that pretty little thing come into my shop, I’d sell her my entire catch seven days a week. Be glad she only asked for one day.”
Rhine’s amusement made him smile. “She is quite lovely, isn’t she.”
“Make an old man like me wish I wasn’t. Real fine cook, too.”
“So I hear. She’s taking my customers.”
“The way that girl cooks, you’ll be lucky to have any customers at all if she stays around.”
Rhine had been wondering if she was still planning on striking out for California. Not wanting Granger or anyone else knowing she’d spent those first few days at the Union, he said, “Sylvie told me she was on her way to California when the man who was driving her across the desert robbed her and put her off the wagon.”
“That’s what I heard, too. If I ever come across him, I’ll gut him just like a fish. You don’t do a lady that way.”
Rhine wanted to gut the unknown man as well.
“So, not changing my mind about the fish,” Granger added. “You and Jim will just have to pick out another night for the fish fry.”
“You’re a cold man, Amos Granger.”
“Turn yourself into a woman as beautiful as Miss Eddy and promise me my favorite dessert twice a month and I may reconsider.”
Rhine laughed. “She bribed you?”
“Sure did, and I took it like a politician at the state capital.”
“Fine. We’ll pick another night.”
Granger nodded and went back to his gutting. Rhine left the shop and climbed back into his carriage.
So little Miss Eddy had Granger in the palm of her hand, too. Who else would she be impacting? he wondered. Even though he knew setting out for California was her dream, it didn’t mean he had to like the idea of her leaving. Their truce notwithstanding, he selfishly wanted her to remain in the city, if for no other reason than to be able to run into her every now and again on the streets or at events. He admired the way she’d handled Natalie’s gracelessness at Vera’s. Thinking back on the incident brought to mind the dilemma his fiancée posed. Until today he’d had no idea how intolerant she was. Bigoted, was more the word if he were being honest. Her behavior in the shop and her words at the table added up to someone he found not only surprising but distasteful. He’d already made the difficult decision to cross the color line. Would he be able to stomach marriage to a woman who had nothing but disdain for the blood running through his veins, too? And what if they had children? Would they grow up mirroring that same intolerance? And because he knew the answer to that question, he couldn’t marry her. Not and live with himself.
That evening, he paid a call on the Greer family and found them at dinner. He met Natalie’s smiling eyes only long enough to nod a cool greeting. “My apology for showing up unannounced and interrupting your dinner, but Lyman, I’d like to speak with you privately if I may.”
Lyman paused and shared a quick silent look with his wife before placing his linen napkin beside his plate. “Certainly. Let’s go into my study.”
Once inside, Lyman closed the door and gestured Rhine to a chair. “What is this about?” he asked, taking a seat in the chair behind his desk.
“I’ve decided Natalie and I don’t suit.”
“Beatrice told me what happened, but rest assured, I’ve spoken with my daughter and she has seen the error of her ways.”
“It’s not that simple, Lyman, and we both know it.”
“Surely you aren’t going to break things off over one silly little incident?”
“You may consider it silly, but coupled with her insistence that I sell my business, I see nothing but tears and disagreements ahead. I’d like to spare her that and allow her to seek a husband who won’t subject her to gossip or make her a laughingstock, as she’s termed it.”
“Rhine, I think you’re overreacting. Natalie would make a perfect wife.”
“Not for me, nor would I make the perfect husband for her, Lyman.”
“This doesn’t sit well with me, and I insist that for my daughter’s sake you reconsider this decision. I can make things very difficult for you going forward, politically. Remember, my vote was the one to break the tie. Only because of your connection to Natalie have I remained on your side.”
Rhine offered a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Is that a threat, Lyman? Are you forgetting who owns this house?”
Lyman went ashen.
Beatrice Greer had no idea how much her town councilman husband loved to gamble, or how lousy he was at that love. Two years ago, in a poker game in the Union’s back room, Lyman had wagered the deed to their home in order to cover a bet his funds could not. Rhine now owned that deed.
Lyman was visibly shaken. “Of course not.”
“It sounded as if you might have.”
“Rhine, please. This will break Natalie’s heart, and once word gets out—”
“She can save face by saying she threw me over. I’ve no problem with being thought the cad. She’s also welcome to keep the ring if she cares to.”
“And the deed?”
“I’ll keep it in play for now, just in case you suffer another case of amnesia.” Rhine had genuinely liked Lyman, but his threat now changed things.
“Will you at least have the decency not to court anyone else in the immediate future?”
“I’ve no plans to. I’ve no desire to cause your daughter any more hurt than is necessary.”
“Then I suppose we are done here.”
“Unless you think I should tell your daughter myself.”
“No,” he said tightly. “I’ll break the news to her.”
“As you wish.” Rhine got to his feet. “It will be impossible for us to avoid each other socially, but I assure you I will be a gentleman should we meet.”
Lyman offered no such pledge in return.
Rhine didn’t mind. “I’ll show myself out.”
On the drive through the darkened streets back to his saloon, he admittedly felt a strong sense of relief. Breaking the engagement had been unpleasant but the right thing to do. Natalie would find another fiancé and he would go on with his life. If he had to remain unmarried for the rest of his life, so be it, but if he did marry, the least he could do was honor his mother’s ultimate sacrifice by finding a woman who didn’t hold her and the Old Queens he was descended from in contempt. In some ways such a pledge made little sense to a man who’d left his race, but to Rhine it made all the sense in the world.
Chapter Ten
The following morning, after preparing breakfast for the two early rising boarders and sending them off with wishes for a good, and in miner Gabe Horne’s instance, safe day, Eddy was in the kitchen putting together Whitman Brown’s omelet. He liked onions with the eggs, so she was chopping one when he sauntered in.
“Good morning, Eddy.”
She didn’t look up. “Good morning.”
He came over to the table. “You know, it’s a shame your skin is so dark. You’re well spoken, clean, mannerly. You’d make someone a perfect wife, but—”
She did look up then. “Do you always insult women with knives in their hands, Mr. Brown?”
Upon viewing the gleaming blade, his eyes widened. “Uh, um . . . ”
She pointed said knife at the doorway. “Leave.”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was just stating fact.”
“Go!”
He bid a hasty retreat.
Wondering where he’d been when the Good Lord began handing out brains, she went back to what she’d been doing.
Once his breakfast was ready, she took the piled-high plate out to the dining room, placed it on the table in front of him, and without a word returned to the kitchen.
She was still grumbling to herself when Sylv
ia entered. Eddy asked her, “Why is Whitman Brown such an ass?”
Chuckling, Sylvia replied, “I believe his overly inflated head is responsible. Has he gotten your goat already this morning?”
Eddy related his backhanded compliment, to which Sylvia replied, “I do wish he’d find someplace else to board, but he always pays his rent on time, and because of your cooking the only way he’ll probably leave will be when Mr. Pringle the undertaker hauls him away.”
“Arsenic can help that along you know.”
“True, but outside of killing my boarder, what are you planning for the day?”
“I have to go over to Vera’s for my fittings,” she groused. “I also promised her treats for her customers, so I made a batch of sweet wafers last night and put the dough in the cold box. Once I bake them, I’ll fancy them up by rolling them around a fork while they’re still warm.”
“I’ve never seen that done before.”
“I’ll bring you a few once they’re ready. What are your plans for the day?”
“Going to Janet’s and get my hair done, then attend this afternoon’s meeting of the Lincoln Club over at Rhine’s place. Would you care to come along?”
She remembered Sylvie talking about the club when she was first introduced to Zeke. Even though the meeting was being held at Fontaine’s saloon, she was interested in what the group was doing on behalf of the race. She was also interested in finding out if Zeke had returned to the city. He’d left about a week ago to do some carpentry work up in Reno. “What time?”
“Around three.”
“Count me in.”
“Good.”
Sylvia departed and Eddy took her wafer dough out of the cold box and began rolling it out. Next, she used her smallest biscuit cutter to produce little circles, rolled each circle paper thin and placed them one by one on the tin baking sheet. Once they went into the oven, she had to kept an eye on them so they wouldn’t burn. When they were done, she removed them from the sheet and gently rolled each wafer around the handle of a fork. They ended up resembling straws and would be a perfect accompaniment to whatever beverage Miss Vera planned to serve, be it coffee, tea, or punch. As promised, she took a few into Sylvia’s office, along with a cup of coffee.
Sylvia took a bite and her soft moan of delight made Eddy smile and ask, “Good, aren’t they?”
“Oh my, these are heavenly. Can we add these to our Sunday offerings?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Eddy was glad she liked them. “I’m going to take the rest over to Miss Vera, and after my fittings, walk to the market. I need to speak to Mr. Rossetti about donating something for the auction, and he said he’d have some oranges in today. I’d like to buy as many as I can so I can make marmalade.”
Sylvia paused and her face lit up. “Marmalade? Eddy Carmichael, you make marmalade?”
“Yes. My mother taught me.”
“You know, I’m never letting you leave me. I don’t care if you do have your heart set on California. You are staying here.”
A laughing Eddy left her alone.
Vera loved the sweet little wafer straws, too, as did her assistant Shanna. In fact, they ate so many, Eddy cautioned, “Vera, you aren’t going to have any left for your customers.”
“I don’t care. These are wonderful.” And she dipped the end of another one into the tea in her fancy china cup.
The door to the store opened and they all paused as Natalie Greer entered. She was wearing a nice gray walking dress with a little matching hat and carrying a fancy parasol in the same shade. She gave Eddy a cold glare before turning her attention to Vera. “Vera, I’ve come to cancel the wedding costume I picked out yesterday.”
“If you’ve changed your mind and want to look at other patterns, that’s fine.”
“I won’t need a costume. I’ve decided Rhine and I don’t suit. The engagement’s off.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Eddy couldn’t help but wonder why she’d tossed him over.
As if having read Eddy’s mind, she volunteered, “I want him to sell his saloon, and since he refuses, I won’t marry him.”
“I see.”
“I’ll not be the subject of gossip.”
Vera simply nodded.
“Hopefully, rescinding the order won’t be an inconvenience.”
“No, Miss Greer. My shop and I will be fine.”
“Good. Thank you for your understanding.” After glaring Eddy’s way again, she and her dainty little hat and parasol swept out.
In the silence that followed, Vera cracked, “So, he finally came to his senses. It’s about time.”
Shanna quipped, “And every eligible young lady in the state is singing hallelujah!”
Eddy found it interesting that even though the Greer woman claimed to have initiated the breakup, Vera thought otherwise.
Vera helped herself to another wafer. “Okay, Eddy, let’s get your fittings done.”
Kent stuck his head in the doorway of Rhine’s office. “Natalie’s outside. Says she wants to speak with you.”
Rhine, seated at his desk glanced up from the report he’d gotten from his brother Drew on the oil fields they were investing in.
“She doesn’t look happy,” Kent commented.
Rhine pushed his chair back and stood. “She has good reason. I broke off our engagement last night.”
Kent’s jaw dropped.
“I’ll tell you the whole sad tale when I return.”
Outside, Rhine found her seated in the family carriage with their Chinese driver. “Good morning, Natalie.”
“I’m here to see if you’ve come to your senses. I can’t believe you’d beg off over something so trivial.”
And therein lay the problem, he thought to himself, but he didn’t want to argue. “We don’t suit, Natalie. I’m sorry the engagement didn’t work out the way we’d planned.”
“Then I’m returning your ring. I’ve no desire to keep it.” And she handed him the small velvet box. “I went by Vera’s dress shop and cancelled the wedding costume.”
“Whatever’s needed. As I told your father, you may place the blame squarely on my shoulders.”
“Don’t worry, I will. That little Colored cook you were so quick to champion yesterday was at the dress shop. Maybe I’ll spread the rumor that you’re keeping company with her as my reason.”
His jaw tightened and his voice took on an ominous tone. “Don’t stir waters that might flow back to drown you, Natalie. Just find yourself another fiancé and go on with your life.”
“I don’t need your advice.” She tapped the driver on his arm with her parasol and said imperiously, “Drive on.”
As the carriage moved off, Rhine walked back inside. He’d never been a vindictive person, but if one drop of Natalie’s venom splashed on Eddy Carmichael, she and her family would be living in a tent on the outskirts of town.
“Frankly, I never knew what you saw in her anyway,” Kent confessed after hearing Rhine’s story. “She and I grew up together and she’s never been the nicest person.”
“Beauty can blind you.”
“But it shouldn’t make you stupid. Glad you came to your senses. Now she can be some other man’s problem.”
Rhine smiled. “You really don’t like her, do you?”
“Name me five people in town who do and I’ll buy you a drink.” Kent smiled. “Now that you’re free, how about going over to San Francisco with me sometime soon. I’ll introduce you to a cathouse with the prettiest women you’ve ever seen.”
Rhine found the claim amusing. “I’ll leave the cathouse kittens to you.” Kenton Randolph’s unabashed love for the ladies was yet another point of contention in his ongoing disagreement with his father. Then again, rumor had it that the good doct
or had broken his fair share of hearts in his younger days, too.
Kent asked, “Will you be around for the Lincoln Club meeting this afternoon?”
“I will, but only as host. I don’t want my presence to get in the way of an open discussion.” The rift between Black and White Republicans was real. The men in his wing of the party were being lambasted for their perceived indifference to the ongoing bloody assault upon the South’s freedmen. At the club’s last meeting, Rhine had been called upon to explain the reasons for the silence and lack of outrage, but in truth he hadn’t been able to. The party’s choosing political power over supporting the hard-earned rights of the formerly enslaved was indefensible, at least for him, so he’d play host and allow the meeting to progress without his participation.
“We value your support, Rhine.”
“I know, but a one man band is just that. I have no influence over the party’s national agenda and it sticks in my craw as much as it does the people here. Is Jim preparing the food?”
“Yes. Says he needs lemons so he’ll have enough lemonade. I’m on my way to Rossetti’s to get them and save him the trip.”
“How about I go? I need the air.” He wanted to walk off the lingering effects of Natalie’s maddening visit.
“Suit yourself. I’ll help get the chairs and table set up.”
“How many lemons does he need?”
“Two dozen or so.”
Rhine nodded.
Eddy was glad to finally escape all the accidental pinpricks that went with her hour long fittings. She liked the idea of having new clothing, but walking down to Mr. Rossetti’s store she felt like a pin cushion. It was a nice day, however, and the warmth and sunshine felt wonderful. As she made her way down the walk, she garnered a few waves and nods from people she’d met through Sylvia, like the blacksmith, Cecil Roland, and the barber, Edgar Carter, who was sitting on the bench outside his shop. “Mornin’ to you, Miss Eddy.”
“Good Morning, Mr. Carter. Are you still planning on donating those haircuts for the auction?”
“Sure am, and looking forward to some of your good cooking on Sunday.”