Chapter Eight #4
“It occurred to me, Mrs. Roberts,” he said, as the carriage rolled down the long streets of Leadville and out past the mines into the untouched countryside, “that though we had ourselves a time and a half on our last outing, I know no more about you than you, I suspect, know about me. And so without wishing to be presumptuous, I have to ask, right now, before we go any further and I make a dam fool of myself, if your loss is so recent that there’s no hope for me at this time. ”
It said volumes, he thought, that she didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, at first. Her head came up, and there was such an adorable look of confusion on her face, he was tempted to take her in his arms and kiss it away.
If she’d looked dismayed or regretful, or even self-conscious, he’d have had to cut line and take his losses.
But that look of sheer incomprehension was as good as an invitation to get on with it, and that slow dawning realization that sprung to her eyes now was much too little, and blessedly, much too late.
The way her emotions shone and danced on her face made it an odd sort of face for someone in an acting company, he thought bemused, until he caught himself up sharply and wondered if it wasn’t, instead, a wonderful face for an actress.
But that, he realized, relaxing as he looked his fill at her as she groped for an answer, was exactly what made all of this so entertaining.
He wanted her, certainly. Royal might go on for minutes—which were hours for him—about the apparent purity of his Peggy.
It was not Mrs. Hannah Roberts’s apparent purity that interested Gray.
But, curiously, neither was it her lack of it.
If it weren’t for her facade of respectability, he’d not be having this sort of fun.
It was this difficulty in getting what he was sure he’d eventually be able to, that made it more interesting.
It gave him a chance to learn about her sense of humor and her education, which were far more than he’d needed or expected to find, as well as to discover a genuine liking for her company.
And there was this aura of delicious promise about her.
When he got her in his bed, or a rented one, to be more accurate—and he’d little reason to doubt he would, she was a widow, after all, working in a theatrical company, and not as a mere seamstress, as Royal kept harping about his lady—he’d almost be a little sorry for it.
Because however promising it looked now, it would end soon after it began, as such encounters usually did.
He didn’t think he’d enjoy keeping a mistress, that was for married men.
Paying a woman on a regular basis for what he always tried to fool himself into thinking was an impulsive act on both their parts, was actually distasteful to think about.
But looking at her, right now, he couldn’t think of any but tasty things.
So if she’d happened to glance at him before she answered his question, she never would have. But his expression changed when he heard her first words. As always, her conversation temporarily diverted his physical longings.
“My…loss,” she said softly, looking down at the parasol handle she held in her gloved hands, “was a long while ago, a very long while ago.”
“How can that be? Unless you got married real young, like the mountain girls around here do—just as soon as they can dress, or more to the point, undress themselves,” he said, to distract her, even though he knew she might be angry with him for saying something so warm, because he hated to see her sorrowing so, especially for another man.
But she was too lost in her reflections to catch that, so he knew she must be entirely lost, as she added, “You see, he died only a few years past, but he left me after we’d been married only a few months.
I married when I was seventeen,” she said more briskly, belatedly horrified at how easily she’d confided what she seldom did. “I am twenty-four now.”
“So old?” he asked, as though astonished. “If I’d known. I’d have brought a rocking chair!” And while she laughed with him, he laughed with relief because she was just the right age for what he’d in mind: too old for protestations of innocence of any sort, and too young to take any of it seriously.
“I don’t suppose I’ve any right to ask why he left,” he asked after a moment, because he found he wanted to know.
“I don’t suppose you do,” she answered, before she answered as she’d learned to so long ago, “but it was because we didn’t suit.”
Yes, as true and informative as saying the sky was high. Gray thought, and let it drop by saying innocently, “That’s what you get for marrying a blind and deaf man, ma’am, for all I’m sure it was a kindly thing to do.”
“Where are we going today?” Hannah asked, ignoring his flattery absolutely.
“To a place high up enough to catch the last of the autumn sun, and with brooks for cooling wine in, and flowers for taking home to press in memory books so you’ll not forget the day,” he answered.
Even before the carriage stopped, Hannah knew she’d never forget it.
The mountains knew autumn for what it was, even in this unseasonably mild season.
The world was in all the colors of Leadville’s lovely theater: blue and gold and white.
The aspens fluttered gold leaves overhead, their slender trunks as white as the puffy clouds that occasionally wandered across an astonishingly blue sky.
It only lacked cherubs, Hannah thought, and then hastily glanced away from the flaxen-haired man who helped her down from the carriage.
It was a wooded place, with a rushing thrum in the air that made Hannah turn her head to seek its source, until Gray told her it was the sound of a hidden stream rushing down the mountain.
They spread the picnic blanket near to a more sedately flowing stream that widened near where they sat, so that it only made polite burbling fountain sounds as background music for their meal.
They ate their lunch in relative quiet; Peggy and Royal seemed content to stay still, and Hannah found herself unaccountably shy of a newly quiet Gray. It was a curiously peaceful silence.
But they soon discovered that the earth knew the date on the calendar even if the sky had forgotten, because the ground was chill, even beneath their blanket. It wasn’t long before Royal rose and extended his hand to Peggy.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
She smiled at him as she stood up.
“Are we leaving?” Hannah asked as she struggled to her feet, with Gray’s help.
“No need if you don’t want to. Thought we’d go for a stroll,” Royal said. “You coming, or staying?” he asked Gray.
“Oh, coming, of course,” Hannah said at once, brushing crumbs from her gown and readying to go, alarmed at Peggy’s slight frown, and so more determined than ever to walk with them.
“Then, best put these things away,” Royal said on a sigh, bending to pack up the remains of their lunch.
“Oh. Have you changed your mind? Are we going then?” Hannah asked, disappointed and embarrassed, understanding, for the first time, how awkward a chore it was to be a chaperon.
“Then, yes. Now, no,” Royal said, as he lifted the basket, and Gray grinned at him. “Have to put these things back in the buggy before the critters find them.”
“The woods are full of creatures just waiting to share our lunch,” Gray explained, slipping a bit of bread into his pocket. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“But they…” Hannah protested, struggling to free her hand from his light clasp, looking over her shoulder as she saw Peggy and Royal strolling off down a path in the opposite direction, “are going that way.”
He stood still. “Yes, they are,” he said seriously.
“And I think you should let them. Listen. Royal’s serious about that girl.
You don’t have to believe me,” he said in exasperation as she craned her neck to see the tall cowboy and her friend Peggy, hand in hand, disappearing around a curve in the path.
“Just use your head. Do you think he’s the sort of man to throw her down on the ground and have his way with her? ”
She spun around to stare at him for his plain speaking.
“Well, he’s not,” Gray said. “He just wants to get to know her, and maybe steal a kiss or two. She doesn’t have a home here, and he’s a long way from his, so they can’t sit out on a back porch.
She won’t see him at night, anyway. And we’re not in New York, so he can’t take her to a ballgame or a zoo, or for a boat ride.
Lord! I don’t know how they do it in the East, but around here we expect a couple to have a little privacy before they make up their minds for certain. He’s dead serious, that I promise you.
“And he’s got money,” he said, as he began to walk alongside the streambed with her, “and he’s a hard worker and very smart, if not formally educated.
He’ll devote his life to her, and that’s one worthwhile life, believe me, if he decides to ask for her.
Any reason why he shouldn’t that you know?
” he asked suddenly. “He is my best friend, and smitten hard. A man doesn’t think too well in that condition. I’d hate to see him hurt.”
“Why…of course not!” she cried, stopping to confront him. “He’d be lucky if she had him. Peggy’s honest, kind, wise, and good. But, she has no money at all, and an enormous family to support.”
“Good,” Gray said, taking her arm, “he’ll love that, because he’s got no family at all.”
“But surely it’s too soon…” Hannah protested. “They scarcely know each other.”
“Yes,” he said patiently, “which is why we’re giving them this time together, isn’t it?”