Part 20 (2/2)
”Daphne?” he said aloud.
His sister looked the same as she had following their mother's funeral, and yet she was different too. More of a woman than the girl she'd been. Was it the way she carried herself or the clothes she wore or something else?
Daphne stopped in front of him, rose on tiptoe, and brushed his left cheek with her lips. ”Yes, Morgan. Of course it's me. What are you doing in Boise? You are the last person I expected to see here.”
Before he could answer, someone joined them on the sidewalk, and Morgan lifted his gaze to see who it was.
His sister looked behind her at the young man. ”Morgan, this is my friend Robert Dudley. The one I wrote you about. Bob, this is my brother, Morgan.”
Robert doffed his hat. ”It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. McKinley.”
”Likewise.”
”Daphne has told me a great deal about you, sir.”
”Has she indeed.” He looked at his sister. ”I'd like to hear that myself. I trust it was entertaining.”
Daphne laughed, then asked, ”Where are you staying?”
”At the Idanha Hotel.”
”That's where Bob and I have taken rooms as well. Are you going there now?”
”Yes.”
”Then we shall walk with you, if that's all right.”
”Of course it's all right.” He offered his arm, and she took hold of it.
Robert fell in behind them on the sidewalk.
”You received my letter?” Daphne asked as they walked. ”The one telling you I was coming?”
”Yes, I received it, but I didn't expect you until next week. I thought you were stopping to see the sights. Have you enjoyed your trip west?”
”It's been delightful, although we didn't make as many stops as I'd hoped we would. Bob is anxious to reach California so he hurried us along. He wants to be rid of his obligation to me and be about the business of becoming a well-known figure on the motion picture screen.”
”Don't believe her, M r. Mc Kinley,” Robert interjected . ”Daphne was the one in a hurry. She was eager to see you.”
The idea pleased Morgan - that his sister wanted to be with him. He thought again of Gwen and Cleo, of how close they were despite the many years of separation. Pray G.o.d the same would happen between the McKinley siblings.
He patted the back of Daphne's hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. ”I'm glad you've come. It's been too long since we were together.”
”I feel the same. And to be honest, I was weary of traveling around Europe and just as weary of staying put with Cousin Gertrude. She is a dear woman, truly she is, but I no longer need to be chaperoned as if I were a child. And the way she tries to keep men away from me.” Daphne rolled her eyes. ”It's positively medieval.”
Morgan nodded but made no comment. He knew Gertrude Anderson, an unmarried woman in her forties, had meant to protect the young McKinley heiress from fortune hunters. In fact, that was one of the things he'd charged her with doing when he'd asked her to be Daphne's chaperone. But his sister needn't know that.
”Morgan, you haven't told me why you're in Boise. I know you didn't come to meet me.”
”I'm here on business for New Hope. I've got a meeting with men from the railroad later in the week, and in the meantime, I'm hiring more workers and placing orders for materials and furnis.h.i.+ngs.”
”I cannot wait to see what you've accomplished. For that matter, I cannot wait to see where you have settled. Who knows? Maybe I'll decide to stay in Bethlehem Springs too.”
Harrison rode his horse down the incline to the water's edge. About a quarter mile north of the wall of trees on the opposite side of Crow's Creek were the pools and the bathhouse of the New Hope Health Spa. Elias Spade had promised him this was the best way to enter the grounds undetected. Maybe the only way, due to the guards now patrolling the area.
It was a risk, of course, for him to be here in the middle of the day, but he'd wanted to see for himself what Spade intended. A stick or two of dynamite, Spade had told him, was all it would take to destroy that section of the resort compound. A spa without pools and bathhouse was no spa at all. Without them, the resort couldn't open. And maybe that would be the final straw for McKinley Gwen's article for the Daily Herald Daily Herald was due the next day, and she hadn't managed even one sentence. She'd found a dozen other things to do besides write, including baking a cake and two pies and scouring her kitchen. The cake and one of the pies had been taken to the Goldsmiths. She would most likely eat the second pie herself. Every bite of it, unless she threw off this funk. was due the next day, and she hadn't managed even one sentence. She'd found a dozen other things to do besides write, including baking a cake and two pies and scouring her kitchen. The cake and one of the pies had been taken to the Goldsmiths. She would most likely eat the second pie herself. Every bite of it, unless she threw off this funk.
That was one reason she was now in her buggy, Shakespeare trotting along the road heading north. She hoped the fresh air would rid her of her bad humor and save her from that pie. Her other reason - the more important one - was to see if an idea that had come to her that morning might provide not only tomorrow's piece for the paper but a series of them. She wanted to write articles about some of the men who were building the spa. One article about a carpenter. Another about a stonemason. One about Mr. Doyle, the site overseer. Another about... the owner.
Summoned by her thoughts, Morgan's words repeated in her head as they had done often over the past week. ”Isn't it obvious? I have come to care for you. To deeply care for you.” ”Isn't it obvious? I have come to care for you. To deeply care for you.” Would he say those words to her again if he were given the chance? Or would he withdraw them for good because of her rejection. Would he say those words to her again if he were given the chance? Or would he withdraw them for good because of her rejection.
Sounds floated to her through the forest - hammers striking nails and wood, men shouting to one another. She was nearing the building site.
Just as Shakespeare was about to pull the buggy around a bend in the road, Gwen caught sight of a man on horseback down at the creek's edge. She drew back on the reins. If that was f.a.gan Doyle - But it wasn't the site overseer. She could see the man's face now as his horse picked its way across the shallow water. It was Harrison Carter. What was he doing down there?
Harrison looked up, saw her, and reined in, stopping his horse in midstream. After a brief hesitation, he waved to her. ”Miss Arlington. Wait there, will you?”
It wasn't a difficult ride from the creek up to the road, and yet Gwen thought Harrison Carter looked as if he'd traveled a mile uphill. There was a sheen of perspiration across his forehead and upper lip, and when his gaze met hers, it skittered away at once. Almost as if he were unnerved by her presence. Which made no sense to her. Harrison Carter was not not the nervous type, and especially not around women. the nervous type, and especially not around women.
”Visiting the resort site?” he asked, glancing toward the bend in the road.
”Yes.” She could have told him about her idea for the articles. She chose not to.
”Has Mr. McKinley returned?”
”No, I don't believe that he has.”
He looked at her again, then down the road toward town. ”Too bad. I wanted to speak with him about some concerns the board has regarding the effect the spa will have on Crow's Creek. Once it joins the river a few miles south of here, it will become our problem.”
Gwen almost asked him what those concerns were, but a check in her spirit stopped her from voicing the question aloud. Something told her Harrison was being less than honest.
”Maybe you know when he's to return, Miss Arlington.”
”I'm sorry. I don't know for certain.”
”He didn't tell you?”
She stiffened. What business was it of his what Morgan said to her? ”I didn't see him before he left.” True - and she felt no compunction to tell him there had been a note. ”You must excuse me, Mr. Carter. I've an article to write and too little time to do it in.” She slapped the reins against Shakespeare's rump, and the buggy moved forward, around the bend, and out of Harrison's sight.
Disagreeable man.
Unless the voters of Bethlehem Springs voted for Morgan despite his endors.e.m.e.nt of Gwen, she would be the newly elected mayor in a few weeks. She would have to work with Harrison Carter on matters that concerned both town and county. That wasn't a pleasant thought. The longer she knew him, the less she liked him.
The road curved to the right again, then to the left, and once more to the right. The final turn brought the New Hope lodge into view. She imagined herself as a guest arriving for the first time. Surely it would make a guest's heart leap when he or she saw that magnificent building. She was no judge of health spas, having never visited one, but she had to believe this would be as grand as any other.
<script>