Colorado Dawn (23 page)

Yvette dissolved into sobs, though he noted how controlled and perfect her crying appeared and how every few seconds she glanced reproachfully at him, as if she were gauging his response for signs of capitulation. More games, more lies.

Sam brushed past her and shoved the doors open.

Hortense jumped aside and pressed against the wall opposite the doors, her hand on her chest.

He grabbed his hat and the flowers and chocolates. Jamming his hat on his head, he couldn’t resist one last jab. “Baa!”

Eldora Carter kept her chin up and refused to cry, though the tears burning the backs of her eyes demanded release. Staring straight ahead, hands clasped in front of her, she tried to be brave in the face of the tirade coming from her employer.

“I will not stand for this impertinence.” Mrs. Gamble’s bulk nearly overwhelmed the chair. She placed her pen into its holder and leaned back. “You will apologize to my son, and you will remember your place in this household.” She crossed her arms under her broad bosom and contemplated the pelmet. “This is what I get for my charity. I told Mr. Korbin I wanted someone who would know her place, do her work, and not cause me any trouble. And he sends me you.” Her hand waved in a dismissive gesture. “Dressed like a scarecrow, eyes like saucers, and no sense of what being a domestic requires.”

Eldora adjusted her shawl, crossing it over her chest like armor. Her hands stung from the hours of scrubbing she’d already put in today, and her lower back ached from her time over the washtubs.

“You’ve been here three weeks, and this is the third time I’ve had to reprimand you.” Mrs. Gamble’s eyes looked small in her puffy face. Like a colt, she had fine whiskers around her lips that quivered when she was angry. They quivered now. “I don’t know what they taught you at that orphanage, and I suppose I should’ve expected no better, but for you to try to entice my son is beyond the scope of common decency.”

Beau Gamble hadn’t even had the courage to own up to what he had done. Was the red mark of her hand still evident on his cheek? She hoped so. The lout. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and returned her attention to Mrs. Gamble.

“I will not tolerate such behavior under my roof. If you want to comport yourself as a common trollop, you will do so elsewhere. You will apologize to my son and give me your promise you will behave yourself, or I’ll send you straight back to the orphanage, and Conrad can deal with you.”

Eldora said nothing. She shifted her weight, trying to ease the discomfort on the bottom of her right foot where the sole of her boot had worn through. She’d stepped on a sharp stone on her way to the grocery for the cook this morning, and the resulting bruise throbbed.

“Well, are you going to apologize?”

She finally looked her employer in the eye. Though her mouth was dry, she refused to back down. “No ma’am, I am not. I have nothing to apologize for.”

Mrs. Gamble blinked and gasped. Her mouth slacked, and for a moment the whiskers stopped trembling. “What do you call throwing yourself at my son like a tart?”

“I did no such thing. Your son is the one to blame.” Even as she said it, Eldora knew it was useless to protest her innocence. Mrs. Gamble would never believe her precious son could be lascivious. Any trouble would always be the fault of the girl. But she refused to be accused any longer without standing up for herself.

“Your son is the most disgusting man I’ve ever met. I couldn’t walk from my room to the basement laundry without him accosting me. His suggestions and comments were filthy. Why do you think you have such trouble keeping help in this house? It’s your awful son. He tried several times to kiss me, but I managed to evade him. Today, I’d finally had enough. He deserves worse than a slap across his horrible face, and if you don’t put a stop to his actions he’ll go on until he finally ruins some poor girl. Well, I refuse to be that girl.”

Mrs. Gamble’s eyes glittered like a snake’s. “You lie. All you servant girls are alike. You try to capture a man, and when he rebuffs you, you make wild accusations.” She levered herself up and stood toe-to-toe with Eldora.

Though Eldora’s insides quaked, she refused to show fear. She might be about to be turned out into the cold, but she would not cower before this tyrant. “It is you who is lying to yourself, Mrs. Gamble. I may only be an orphan, and not very pretty. And I have nothing of my own but my dignity and my virtue. But I will give neither to you or your son. I quit.”

Mrs. Gamble looked like she might strangle on all she wanted to say.

Before the woman unscrambled her thoughts, Eldora walked out of the sumptuous room. She marched up three flights to her attic bedroom, stuffed her nightgown and comb into her small bag, and headed downstairs. Since she didn’t own a coat, her shawl would have to suffice on the long walk.

Beau waited on the landing, his handsome face sneering. She stopped, instantly wary, though taking small satisfaction that the outline of her fingers still showed on his cheekbone. “Leaving? Too bad. I would’ve liked the chance to tame that feisty temper.”

“Let me pass.”

“Not without a kiss good-bye.”

“You’re a rogue and a rake, Beau Gamble. If you touch me I’ll scream this house right down.”

“Can I carry your bag for you, miss?” The houseman stood at the foot of the steps. His face seemed carved from granite. Relief washed through Eldora even as disappointment flashed in Beau’s eyes.

“Yes, please.” She edged by Beau and hurried to the first floor.

Jimson took her bag and her elbow. “I’m sorry you’re leaving us, miss.” The older man tugged her arm when she would’ve turned to go to the back door. “You’ll go out the front, like a lady.” He kept looking straight ahead, but his expression softened somewhat from its usual sternness. Bowing slightly, he held the door for her and handed her the parcel she’d given him. “Godspeed, miss.”

“Thank you, Jimson.” She smiled and squeezed his arm. It was the first time in her three weeks in the Gamble house that she’d called the man by his name. When he closed the door, she headed down the gravel horseshoe drive toward the street to begin the long walk back to the orphanage.

She stopped when she got to the street and looked back at the mansion. How could something so beautiful on the outside be so rotten on the inside?

E
ldora trudged up the snow-covered steps to the orphanage, weary, wet, and wishing she could be anywhere else. Entering the front hall, she stomped her numb feet to rid them of their icy encasement. The familiar smells of cooked cabbage, lye soap, and damp wool wrapped around her.

Behind the classroom door on her left muffled recitations emitted, and from the back hall pots clanked and water poured. She turned to her right, determined to get the lecture over with. Her chest tightened. What if he wouldn’t take her back? She was of age and had no real right to be at the orphanage any longer. If Mr. Korbin refused her refuge…

Please, God, let him take me back. I don’t have anywhere else to go
.

Placing her bundle on the bench beside the door—a bench where children in need of discipline often sat awaiting Mr. Korbin’s ire—she tapped. Her knees trembled as the door swung open.

Mrs. Scrabeck wore a smile until she recognized Eldora. Her nostrils flared, and her lips pinched like she’d just kissed a dill pickle. “Eldora Carter, what are you doing here?” She poked her head around the doorjamb and spied the bundle of Eldora’s belongings. Her sigh nearly parted Eldora’s hair. “Again? Mr. Korbin is not going to like this.” She glared, appraising Eldora from her not-quite-blond-not-quite-brown hair to her wet hem and water-spotted shoes. “I suppose you’d better come in, but keep in mind, Mr. Korbin has a board meeting in a few minutes.”

Eldora swallowed hard and resisted ducking her head to scuttle in like a mouse. Her cheeks burned, and she pressed her lips together.

Mrs. Scrabeck pointed to a chair before slipping into Mr. Korbin’s office. A frosted pane bore his name in black-and-gold letters, and through its semiopaque glass, dark shapes moved.

Eldora clasped her hands in her lap and shut her eyes. Mr. Korbin’s voice, deeper and louder than Mrs. Scrabeck’s, rose high. Footsteps, and the door crashed open.

“Miss Carter, why are you here? Have you been dismissed again?” He loomed over her, solid and stern, the ultimate authority in her life for the past nine years. “I told you not to return. You had a perfectly good placement with the Gambles.”

She cringed and then forced herself to straighten. “Mr. Korbin, I couldn’t stay there.”

His sigh was even bigger than Mrs. Scrabeck’s. “I suppose you had better come into the office.” He held the door, and her shoes squished as she dragged into the room. Mr. Korbin took his time rounding the desk and easing down into the plush chair.

Eldora stared at the blotter, heartily sick of being called to account for her shortcomings.

“Go ahead. What was it this time? Impertinence?”

She lifted her chin. “Mrs. Gamble said I was impertinent, but I had to be.” The memory of Beau Gamble’s hard hands on her, his squishy lips on her neck and cheek, and his pushing her up against the wall made her skin crawl.

“What did you do?”

She loathed the patient forbearance in his voice that said she was nothing more than a nuisance he’d like to scrape off the bottom of his shoe. Heat bloomed in her chest. “What did
I
do? I refused to let Mrs. Gamble’s grown son take advantage of me. He tried to compromise my virtue, and I slapped his face for it. I knew it would cost me my position, and I knew there was every chance you wouldn’t take me back here, but I couldn’t stand that arrogant man. He deserved worse than a smack. I wish now I’d hit him harder.” She trembled, remembering his leers and disgusting suggestions.

Mr. Korbin pressed his lips in a hard line, and his neck went rigid. “You slapped Beau Gamble?” A cough stuck in his throat, and he leaned forward to take a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “Do you realize that Olivia Gamble is one of the most generous patrons this orphanage has? Do you know how many of our orphans she has taken into her home and given jobs?”

“How many of those were girls? How many of them do you think Beau Gamble has ruined? I’m not the first girl he tried his tricks on.” Libby and April, the upstairs maids, were afraid of Beau and whispered of another girl who had gotten in the family way as a result of his attentions and was dismissed for low morals. “I would think you’d be more concerned about the welfare of the girls you place out.”

Mr. Korbin leaned forward, his eyes like ice. “That’s enough. I won’t have you spreading vile gossip about the son of one of our patrons. This is the third time you’ve lost a perfectly good job that would get you out of my hair once and for all, and this is the third time you’ve come crawling back here. Might I remind you that you are no longer of an age to live at this orphanage? We’ve done the best we can for you, and it is time you made your own way in this world.”

A feeling like sand trickling through fingers started in her chest. How would she make her own way? She had no skills beyond being a domestic, and she had no references without the orphanage’s backing. “Are there any other positions available? I assure you, Mr. Korbin, I don’t try to get fired. The first one wasn’t my fault. The family moved out of the state and didn’t wish to take the servants with them. The second time, well, I couldn’t stand by and let the housekeeper beat that poor boot boy to death. His transgression didn’t warrant getting caned senseless. As for Beau Gamble, you can’t tell me you think I should’ve accepted his advances just to keep the position of laundress?” She shook her head hard enough that a hank of hair came out of its pin and slid over her right eye. With a shove, she tucked it behind her ear. “Not even if I had to sleep on the street in the teeth of a blizzard.”

Hands flat on the desktop, Mr. Korbin levered himself up and leaned over the blotter. “Don’t take that tone with me, missy. Sleeping on the street isn’t outside the realm of possibility for you tonight.” He shook his finger, his face a dull red. “You’re too old to live here anymore. We’ve done the best we can for you, placed you with three good employers, and you’ve managed to lose every position. As of this minute—”

Mrs. Scrabeck knocked on the door and stuck her head inside. “Mr. Korbin, there’s a policeman here to see you, and you have a board meeting upstairs in three minutes.”

At the mention of a policeman, Eldora’s insides sloshed. Surely slapping a lout wasn’t a criminal matter. Had Mrs. Gamble set the police after her? She tried to moisten her dry lips, but her mouth was parched.

“Show him in.”

When Eldora edged to the door, Mr. Korbin held up his hand. “Wait. I’m not through with you.”

A burly police officer entered, pushing the door aside and dragging someone after himself. “Korbin, I thought you were going to keep this one under close watch.” He heaved, and Phin Bartholomew skidded into view. His black forelock hung in his eyes, and those eyes glowed like coals through the strands. A dirty smear decorated his swarthy, thin cheek.

Mr. Korbin braced himself on the desk, dropping his head momentarily as if his burdens were too great for one man to bear. “What did he do this time?”