Colorado Dawn (24 page)

“Caught him down at the grocer’s helping himself to the food and folks’ wallets.”

Phin glared, unrepentant. He kept trying to worm out of the policeman’s grasp, but the beefy officer appeared not to notice the attempts, nor did he loosen his ham-fisted grip on Phin’s collar.

Eldora’s heart went out to the boy. They were both caught in untenable situations with no hope of escaping their fates.

Mr. Korbin walked to the door and summoned Mrs. Scrabeck. “Please take Phin to the matron. She’s to see to it he doesn’t leave the premises again, and she has free rein to discipline him as she sees fit.”

“That old cow can’t keep me here, and you can’t either.” Phin swung out, trying to land a blow with his skinny arms, but the policeman dangled him until he stood on tiptoe. “She can beat me with that radiator brush all she likes, but I’ll get away. See if I don’t…” Phin protested all the way out of the room.

Eldora closed her eyes, fisting her hands, impotent to change anything for the boy or for herself. The matron, a sour woman who had no fondness for children, would no doubt do as Phin predicted. The radiator brush was a favorite method of discipline in the orphanage.

Mrs. Scrabeck showed the policeman and Phin out and then poked her sour face around the edge of the door. “Sir, your meeting?”

Mr. Korbin turned back to Eldora. “Wait on the bench in the hall until my meeting is over. Then I’ll see what’s to be done with you.”

Sam wanted to shake the dust off his feet when he stepped out of the Adelman house. How could he have been so blind? A sheep, was he? He chuckled. Baaing at Hortense had been childish, but it sure had felt good.

He checked his timepiece and waited for a wagon loaded down with barrels to roll by before crossing the street. Plenty of time until he had to meet Great-aunt Tabitha at the orphanage.

Thoughts of his father’s aunt brought a smile to his face. No-nonsense, wise, and funny, he had no doubt she would have plenty to say about his broken engagement.

Barges and riverboats lined the shores of the muddy Mississippi, and Illinois lay wreathed in low clouds on the far side of the water. He strolled down Lucas Place toward Missouri Park. As he passed the art museum, he considered stopping in to kill some time, but as stirred up as he was after his confrontation with Yvette, he had no desire to stare at paintings and sculptures. Better to walk off his mood.

Turning up his collar against the brisk wind, he tucked the candy box and flowers under his arm and ambled through the park. Black branches outlined in snow stood starkly against the sky. With less than two weeks until Christmas, bells rang out merrily on passing sleighs, and wreaths hung on many of the front doors of the town houses that bordered the park.

When he’d gone as far toward the river as he could go without wading, he turned south toward downtown and the orphanage. In just a few days, he’d be back in Colorado, out of this bustling city where he’d spent the last three months and breathing the cold, crisp air of the Rockies. Thoughts of home carried him to the doorstep of the orphanage about ten minutes before Aunt Tabitha’s meeting was scheduled to break up.

He entered, noting that the cold had browned the edges of some of the flowers he carried. Fitting, he supposed. He was certainly browned off with Yvette. The hothouse Christmas roses had cost him plenty. How much money had he squandered keeping the acquisitive Yvette happy?

He twisted his mouth and, once inside, glanced around to get his bearings. Humiliation pricked his skin. How was he going to tell his family, who would be expecting him to arrive in a few days as a newlywed, that he’d been suckered by a gold digger with a pretty face?

A girl sat on a bench in the front hall with her feet primly together and her arms anchoring a dun-colored shawl around her thin shoulders. The shawl matched her hair, some of which had slipped from the pleat at the back of her head and lay on her cheek. One of the orphans, no doubt. Maybe fourteen? He scrubbed his feet on the mat, and at the noise, she looked up.

The biggest, light brown eyes he’d ever seen. He sucked in a breath and nodded to her, touching his hat brim. She was older than he’d thought, though not by a lot. Eighteen or nineteen maybe? Her lashes were gathered into damp points, and when she looked at her lap again, she dabbed at them with the corner of her shawl. More than a few inches of her hem bore water stains and damp spots

He cleared his throat and knocked on the door marked O
FFICE
. Somewhere upstairs a thumping, pounding ruckus started up with muffled yells. He frowned. Sounded like a stampede.

The girl darted a look up the stairs and twisted her hands in her lap. Her bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth.

A door opened above, and several whacks rocketed down the steps. “Stop that yelling. You’ve no one to blame but yourself. If you want more of this brush, then you just keep up your caterwauling. I’ll give you something to yell about.” The door slammed, making the young woman on the bench flinch.

Sam was of a mind to go upstairs and investigate when the office door opened, and a pinch-nosed woman stuck her face out. “Yes, can I help you?”

“Sam Mackenzie. I’m meeting my aunt here in a few minutes. Miss Tabitha Mackenzie? She’s in a board meeting, I believe?”

Her sour expression softened into more pleasant lines. “Of course. Please, come in. Can I get you some coffee?”

Another loud thump upstairs made the gaslight rattle. “What’s going on up there? A wrestling match?”

The woman made damping motions with her hands. “I’m sorry. One of the boys is in a bit of trouble, and matron has had her hands full with him for the past hour. Don’t worry. She has a way with boys. They need a firm hand, you know.”

It sounded as if the matron would make a good prison guard. Whoever the kid was, he felt sorry for the boy.

Sam placed the candy and flowers on the table, wishing he’d disposed of them on the walk over. Still, the inmates at this charming establishment might like a few caramel drops to brighten their existence. Aunt Tabitha could have the flowers. He consulted his watch, comparing it to the clock on the wall.

The secretary went back to her desk, but she darted looks at Sam, making him shift in his seat and rotate his hat in his hands.

When he thought he couldn’t stand her furtive glances any longer, the hall door opened and Aunt Tabitha entered, followed by a tall, spare man with iron-gray hair and black bushy eyebrows that dominated his hatchet face.

The man closed the door to the hall. “It’s the perfect solution, and the rest of the directors agree with me. We’ll be solving several problems at once.”

“I prefer to think of them as children, not problems, Conrad.” Aunt Tabitha leaned on her cane. Her voice, though soft, carried a note of steel. “ ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ isn’t a solution; it’s dereliction of duty.” Sam rose, and Tabitha nodded to him but continued to address the hawk-faced man. “I realize I’m new around here and I’m not familiar with all the procedures, but I do know those children deserve better than being shunted off in the middle of the night.”

The man—Sam assumed he must be Conrad Korbin as the name on the interior office proclaimed—clenched his jaw as if holding on to the last thread of his patience. “The matter has been decided. You might be grateful the little girl isn’t being sent to an asylum. That would be far more in keeping with her condition. They will depart on tomorrow night’s train. I’ll pen a letter to be delivered upon their arrival in Denver.”

Tabitha turned to him. “Sam, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. What should’ve been a routine business meeting turned into something else altogether.” She lowered her brows at Mr. Korbin. “I’ve sent for my carriage.”

“Hello, Aunt Tabitha.” He kissed her offered cheek, breathing in the scent of licorice and lavender, a combination he always associated with her. The tissue paper around the flowers rustled when he picked them up. “These are for you.”

She took the roses and buried her nose in the dark red buds for a moment before tilting her head back to peer at him through her pince-nez. “Not that these aren’t delightful, but I have a feeling there’s something you need to tell me.”

“There is, but we can talk about it on the way to your house.” The chocolates remained on the table, and he considered telling the secretary to pass them out to the children, but something about the woman didn’t sit well with him. Her pinched mouth and the way she looked down her nose made him think she might be as mean as second-skimmings. He scooped up the candy box and took Tabitha’s arm. Escorting her to the hall, he nodded to Korbin and opened the door.

The girl still sat on the bench. Her shoulders sloped as if the entire world bore down on them and a slight hiccup hitched her frame. Poor kid. The atmosphere in this place was more like that of a prison than a home for children. Enough to make anyone cry.

He stopped Tabitha when she moved toward the front door. “Just a minute.” Squatting beside the girl, he placed the box of chocolates on her lap.

She looked up, surprising him again with her enormous gingerbread-colored eyes. In a flash, her lashes darted downward as she ducked her chin. Her long, thin fingers traced the Currier and Ives snowscape on the top of the gilt cardboard, and her pink lips parted with a short, sharp intake of breath.

“This is for you. Share it with some of your friends here.” He almost chucked her under the chin, but something stayed his hand.

She held herself rigid, as if expecting him to grab her.

Shrugging, he stood and turned to his aunt. As he held the door for her, he glanced over his shoulder.

The girl watched him, her eyes filled with gratitude out of proportion for such a small gift. Her lips moved slightly, enough for him to make out what she said. “Thank you.”

He nodded, wishing he could do more for her than a box of candy, and chided himself. He didn’t know her situation or anything about her. He had enough women troubles without inviting more.

I
’m not asking you to adopt these children. Just ease their way a bit on their journey. They won’t be any trouble.” Tabitha adjusted the sable stole around her throat and glanced up the depot platform toward the engine. “It’s providential, I tell you. You’ve made a good escape from the clutches of Yvette, and you’re traveling on the same train as Miss Carter and the children. You can look in on them from time to time and make sure they all arrive safely in Denver.”

Providential didn’t exactly fit Sam’s description of the situation. “You’re taking my broken engagement awfully well.” He guided Tabitha to a less-busy corner. “Though I have to admit, the celebratory dinner last night was nice.”

Tabitha chuckled. “I never liked Yvette, but you were so taken with her I didn’t like to say so. The entire relationship felt so hurried. You barely knew the girl before you got engaged, and the rushed wedding plans didn’t sit well. Having Hortense Adelman for a mother-in-law wouldn’t have been pleasant either. Hortense is not well received in St. Louis society, and she was using the engagement to get invitations into the best parlors and salons of the city. She’ll no doubt have her petticoats in an uproar over the broken engagement.”

“Yvette didn’t want to wait to be married, and fool that I am, I was flattered by her…zeal?” He rubbed his chin and grimaced.

A baggage handler approached them and touched the peak on his cap. “I’ve placed your bags in your private car at the rear of the train, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you before departure?”

Sam opened his wallet and pulled out a bill. “No, that will be all. Thank you.”

The porter eyed the paper and blinked. “Thank
you
, sir.” He hastily tucked the money out of sight and backed away with a bow.

“Where is that girl? If they don’t get here soon, they’ll miss the train.” Tabitha leaned on her cane and looked up and down the platform.

The locomotive hissed and clanked, smelling of grease and coal smoke and spewing clouds of steam that hung in the frosty air. Gaslights illuminated the platform, and the milling passengers cast shadows. A baggage cart squeaked by laden with trunks.

“I have grave reservations about what Mr. Korbin is doing with these children, but it’s out of my hands. I was outvoted. There are things going on at that orphanage that need looking into. That’s why I got myself appointed as a board member last month—though it took a hefty donation to get the matter accomplished. If yesterday’s meeting is any indication of how things are run, I shall have to take things in hand and make some changes.”

Sam had no doubt she would be running the place inside of three months. Old Korbin wouldn’t know what hit him.

“You will keep an eye on the children, won’t you?” The lines in her face deepened.

“I’ll do my best.” He caught the flash of lamplight off russet hair, and his heart jolted. At the same instant, someone bumped his shoulder. He did a nifty two-step to avoid tottering into Aunt Tabitha, all the while keeping his head on a swivel for another glimpse of who he thought he’d seen.

It was her.

And she’d spotted him.