Chapter Five
ISABELLA ARRIVED AT Hale’s office immediately after breakfast in the same clothing she’d worn to their wedding.
Hale only noticed because of the way the white blouse set off her vibrant hair.
She looked like a fresh spring breeze, wafting into his office on what actually felt like the hottest morning of the year.
“Is now a good time to go for our stroll about town?” she asked as she settled a straw hat over her hair.
Hale looked at his pocket watch, as if he hadn’t been thinking about this since the second he awoke. “I believe it is.”
“I’m sorry I missed you this morning,” Isabella said as she walked beside him down the hallway toward the front door. “Tansy told me she starts preparing for breakfast early, and I wanted to be of help to her.”
Hale smiled at her. “I know she’s grateful you’re here. When the boardinghouse is full, the cooking is almost too much for one person. Sometimes we hire a woman to come in and help, but that’s an extra expense, of course.”
“I’m glad to have something to keep me occupied,” Isabella replied.
Hale extended an arm, and she took it. He tried to ignore the shot of warmth that seemed to ignite under his skin at the lightness of her arm wrapped around his. “I thought we’d start across the road.”
Isabella nodded, and he carefully led her across the dusty street and the railroad tracks that ran down the middle. He pointed out businesses of interest as they walked and introduced her to a few people they passed.
Isabella was beaming after meeting a third lady who invited her to tea or lunch. “Everyone here is so friendly.”
“It’s a small place, and we’re such a distance from any city that we have to get along or live in misery,” Hale said.
“I can’t imagine not getting along with anyone I’ve met so far.”
Hale laughed, not wanting to dim her impressions of Crest Stone by regaling her with a few guests he’d met. Including the one currently staying in Room Six.
He pointed out the general store. “Mrs. Drexel usually keeps a variety of fabrics, if you want to purchase anything to make.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Isabella’s cheeks went pink. “I don’t want to spend your money on clothing when I have two perfectly serviceable dresses.”
Hale’s brow knitted. He didn’t wish to embarrass her, but he also didn’t want her to go without. “Fabric for another dress will hardly put me into bankruptcy,” he finally said, smiling gently as he spoke.
She nodded but said nothing else. Hale decided to let the topic go as he gestured toward the church across the road where they’d married the day before. “Tansy and I usually attend services on Sundays. What was your church like in Wyoming Territory?”
He didn’t realize it was possible for her face to go even more pink, but it did.
“I didn’t . . . well, I lived too far away from one to attend regularly,” she finally said, not meeting his eyes.
Hale looked away, shutting his eyes briefly in frustration with himself. How was it possible to keep choosing topics of conversation that made Isabella uncomfortable?
“Oh!” she said, thankfully interrupting his thoughts. “What is that place? I saw it yesterday from the depot, but I forgot to ask Tansy about it.”
Hale turned to see Isabella pointing at the hotel on the hill that overlooked all of the other buildings. “The Crest Stone Hotel,” he said. “It’s the finest in town.”
“It’s lovely.” She breathed out a sigh, and Hale was grateful for something to talk about that wouldn’t cause Isabella to blush.
He began regaling her with the stories he’d heard about the Gilbert hotels like this one, and how this hotel had come to be built.
She nodded enthusiastically, and he went on to show her the town’s newest—although more modest—hotel and the other boardinghouse he and Tansy did their best to differentiate the Darby Boardinghouse from.
“You’ll find all sorts in that place,” he said. “Regular folks who don’t have much money to spare, but also gamblers, thieves, and worse.”
Isabella swallowed noticeably as she looked across him at Fred Polson’s Boardinghouse. He’d made her nervous. He could have smacked himself. Just because she was forthright in sharing her thoughts and asking questions didn’t mean she lived without fear.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She eyed the boardinghouse for a moment longer, looking as if she were in another place altogether, before finally dragging her gaze away to meet him. “I’m not frightened. Everyone here is too nice for that.”
He couldn’t keep from grinning. “Well, don’t trust every person you meet immediately.”
She lifted her own mouth in a little smile. “I’m far too wise now to do that.”
That was a curious answer. Hale watched her as a hundred new questions tumbled into his head.
“You’ve told me so much about Crest Stone. Tell me something about you.” Isabella drew slightly closer as she looked up at him.
Hale had the strongest desire to tug at his collar but settled for clearing his throat instead. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. For instance, where were you born? You strike me as someone who came from a city.”
Hale didn’t know whether she considered that a good or bad thing, but it was true. “Tansy and I are from Philadelphia.”
“You carry yourself like someone used to living in a city,” Isabella said. “Why did you choose Crest Stone?”
“We didn’t, not really. Our parents ran a small boardinghouse in the city.
A few years ago, there was a fire, and .
. .” His throat constricted from the emotion that rose every time he thought of his parents.
It had been impossible to remain in Philadelphia after what had happened.
“We decided to take the money we inherited out West with the idea that we’d open our own boardinghouse somewhere.
When we arrived in Denver, we asked around and one gentleman mentioned Crest Stone as a possible location. ”
Isabella was watching him, her mouth slightly agape. “I’m sorry you lost your parents.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t dare look at her again. If there was any trace of sadness or pity in her expression, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself together. “Where are your parents?” he asked, eager to leave discussion of his loss behind. “In Cheyenne?”
“Oh . . . no. I lost my mother some time ago to a fever. We had a small homestead in the territory then.”
He snuck a glance at Isabella, but she was looking away from him. And he understood. The memories of loss were too much sometimes. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, hoping to communicate that he’d wrestled with similar grief. “But you still have your father?”
“Yes,” she said, a hint of hesitation lacing her voice. “He’s . . . away. I haven’t seen him or my brothers in a while.”
“Sometimes you have to travel for good work,” Hale replied. “It makes sense then that you’d want to marry.”
She glanced down, frowning just a little before raising her head to look at him. The frown was gone, replaced with that genuine smile. “I’m very happy not to be alone any longer.”
Because she had him. She also had Tansy and an entire town of people now, but Hale liked the soft warm glow that flooded through him when he thought she meant only him.
“Thank you again for the walk and the conversation,” Isabella said when they reached the boardinghouse.
“Maybe later this week I can show you the creek that runs to the west near the mountains?” A hopeful note crept into Hale’s voice, and he hoped Isabella didn’t notice.
She beamed at him as they stopped outside his office door. “A creek? Is it good for fishing?”
That was the last question he’d expected her to ask. “I . . . I don’t know. Perhaps?”
Isabella laughed. “Have you ever been fishing?”
“There isn’t much fishing to come by in Philadelphia,” he said, still trying to wrap his mind around Isabella wrestling some wriggly fish from a line.
“Maybe I’ll show you how. It’s great fun.” From the way she spoke about it, Hale might have thought she was talking about a dance or a new ladies’ card game.
He nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. Unfortunately, now I have to pay the invoices that have stacked up on my desk before our suppliers come asking about their money.”
Isabella’s jovial expression dropped. “Are you worried about paying them?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. I just haven’t had much time to sit down and get it done.”
“I see. I’ll leave you to it, then.” She started down the hallway toward the kitchen. Hale had almost closed his door when he heard her voice.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Mr. Darby is currently occupied. Is there something I can help you with?”
Hale waited behind the door, listening at the crack, and when Mr. Quarles’s voice filtered down the hallway, he closed his eyes and bumped his forehead against the door in irritation.
“I doubt you can help. I need to speak to Mr. Darby about breakfast this morning,” Quarles said in his strained pompous voice.
“Then I’m just the person you need to see!” Isabella’s voice was chipper, as if talking with the boardinghouse’s most annoying guest was a great joy. “I assist Miss Darby in the kitchen. Now, what can I help you with?”
Their voices faded from range as Mr. Quarles presumably followed Isabella down the hall. Hale’s shoulders sank in relief.
All he needed was a solid couple of hours without interruptions, and Isabella had just given him that gift.