Rebecca Hagan Lee (5 page)

He looked the hotel manager right in the eye. “I have no idea. But as I do have business to attend to this morning and my cousin is nowhere to be found, I suggest you call a locksmith.”

Mr. Palmer shook his head, then glanced over at James. “This is all highly irregular.”

“It will be even more irregular when I kick the door out of its frame.”

“You can’t do that,” Palmer gasped.

“I can and I will.”

“But, sir … Mr. Craig …”

James glanced at the regulator clock hanging on the wall behind the front desk to let Palmer know he felt he’d already dallied too long. “You have ten minutes to find a locksmith,” he said. “Starting now.”

JAMES SCANNED THE
horizon as he waited in the San Francisco Ferry Building at the foot of Market Street for the approaching ferry that would transport him across San
Francisco Bay to the Southern Pacific pier at Oakland, where the Central Pacific Railroad had its terminal. He’d wandered through shopping districts and neighborhoods all over the city looking for Elizabeth. She was somewhere in the teeming metropolis, traveling the streets alone and unprotected. And even though he knew he shouldn’t waste any more time worrying about her, James found himself doing just that. She had seemed so fragile and vulnerable. He snorted in disgust. Her looks were deceptive. Elizabeth had seemed fragile and vulnerable, but she’d proven herself more than capable of outwitting him and spoiling his plans for the day.

He had stayed in the city as long as he dared, barely making it to the Ferry Building in time to catch the last ferry to Oakland. He’d even briefly toyed with the idea of staying over in San Francisco another couple of days to locate Elizabeth, but James knew he couldn’t disappoint his loved ones by staying in the city any longer. He had promised them he’d be home tomorrow, and James intended to keep that promise.

James watched as the ferry pulled alongside the pier, and the crew extended the walkways. He boarded the boat and headed toward his accustomed table in the dining salon. He nodded to several acquaintances before being joined by Will Keegan, his second-in-command at Craig Capital, Ltd.

Will removed his hat and topcoat, then slipped into a seat opposite James and helped himself to a cup of coffee from the pot on the table. “We missed you at lunch,” he said as James turned away from the window.

Lost in thought, James looked at Will blankly, then slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Bloody hell!”

“Not to worry,” Keegan assured his boss. “Even without you there to oversee everything, business went on as usual. The papers were signed, sealed, and delivered to the bank for safekeeping.” Will reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. “By the way, this came for
you at the office while we were at the meeting.” He handed James the envelope.

James accepted the telegram, then wrinkled his brow in annoyance. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. Perhaps, it was because he hadn’t been able to say good-bye. But even now, as he sat across the table from Will Keegan discussing business, James was reminded of the color of Elizabeth’s eyes every time he glanced out at the sparkling waters of the Bay. He’d been so concerned about Elizabeth that he’d forgotten about conducting his business. Instead, he’d spent the day out searching the endless rows of shops, on the off-chance that Elizabeth had meant it when she informed the desk clerk at the Russ House that she had some shopping to do.

“I can’t believe I forgot about the meeting with the Central Pacific board.”

Will shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. The deal had already been made. Today’s meeting was only a formality, and besides”—he looked over the rim of his coffee cup at James—“I needed the experience and you needed to know the company wouldn’t fall apart simply because you missed one meeting.” Will set his cup down in its saucer.

“Damn,” James said. “I never forget a meeting. That isn’t like me at all.”

“I figured something important came up.” Will’s brown eyes twinkled merrily as he gave James a broad knowing wink. “Don’t fret about it, Jamie. No one would blame you for spending a day in San Francisco pleasuring a woman in bed. You’re entitled. Hell, you’re more than entitled, you’re due.”

“What the devil are you talking about?” James eyed Will suspiciously.

“I heard you created a little … um … disturbance this morning at the Russ House.”

James raised his eyebrow. “You don’t normally pay attention to idle gossip, Will.”

“I do where you’re concerned,” Will Keegan answered,
meeting James’s unrelenting glare with one of his own. James knew that Will wasn’t just talking about this morning’s episode at Russ House, but about the other gossip that had followed hot on his heels from Hong Kong. “Don’t frown at me, Jamie. You know you’d do the same if our situations were reversed.”

James sighed. Will was right. James couldn’t blame his friend for paying attention. Will had almost as much at stake in Craig Capital as he did, and any gossip about James that affected CCL affected Will as well. “What did you hear?” James asked abruptly. “How bad was it?”

“I heard you had a helluva morning. I heard you appeared at breakfast at the Russ House in a silk robe and nothing else, that you were arguing with the management because a prostitute named LilyBeth had stolen your clothes and your money and that you kicked your door out of its frame because the hotel management refused to allow you access to your belongings unless you paid your bill in full.” Will grinned at James. “In short, I heard that the fabulously wealthy James Craig rolled, and was rolled by, a Barbary Coast whore in one of San Francisco’s most exclusive hotels. How close did the gossips come to the truth?”

“I kicked my hotel room door out of its frame.”

“Why?” Will couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“Because I was locked out of my room and it was taking that incompetent hotel manager too damn long to find a locksmith to get me back inside it.”

“No Barbary Coast whore named LilyBeth?”

“Definitely not,” James told him, remembering the vulnerable expression in Elizabeth’s beautiful blue-green eyes.

“No silk robe?”

James smiled for the first time since Will had joined him at the table. “I was wearing a silk robe, all right, but I had a pair of trousers on beneath it.”

“Oh, well, I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Well?” James demanded.

“Well what?”

“How do you think this latest rumor will affect the company and the men?”

Will began to chuckle. “Oh, I think this rumor will prove beneficial to the company and the men.”

“How so?”

“This one will make you seem more human. More fallible. The men will tend to think of you as one of them once they learn you were caught with your trousers down around your ankles just like the rest of us have been at one time or another while in San Francisco.”

“But I wasn’t,” James insisted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Will told him. “Once the men hear the rumor, that’s what they’ll believe.”

James exhaled a long, slow, deep breath. Why was that? he wondered. Why did everyone always want to believe the worst about someone else? Why would the men in his employ want him to be fallible? Didn’t they understand that he couldn’t afford to be fallible? Not when he held their livelihoods, and sometimes their very lives, in his hand.

Will Keegan reached over and clapped James on the shoulder. “Cheer up, old man. The men are going to be positively gloating about this one.”

“I know,” James replied glumly.

“They’ll like you better,” Will replied.

“I don’t care whether they like me or not,” James reminded his second-in-command, “but, dammit, I do want them to trust me.”

“Trust has to be earned,” Will said.

“How well I know it.” James focused his gaze on the polished wooden surface of the table.

Will finished his cup of coffee and rose from the table. “Give them time, Jamie. We’re still new here in California. Our ways of doing business are new. But I’m certain that once the men who work for us realize that we pay equal wages for equal work to everyone, regardless of background or skin color, they’ll relax, learn to work together and to trust our leadership. Once the men figure out that
you don’t favor one group over the other, everything will be all right.”

“I hope you’re right,” James said fervently.

“I am,” Will told him. “You’ll see.” He clapped James on the shoulder again. “I have to see to the unloading of the supplies we ordered,” he said as he prepared to leave the warmth of the salon and return to the deck and the bitter cold. “Don’t forget to read your telegram.”

“Is it important?” James asked, knowing Will read every telegram that arrived at the San Francisco office of Craig Capital whenever he wasn’t there to do it himself.

Will smiled. “It depends on how you look at it,” he said. “If I were in your shoes, it would be a tragedy. Your latest governess quit and Mrs. G. is threatening to, unless you find someone else to take care of the Treasures.”

James ran his fingers through his thick black hair. “Damn. If I had known about this earlier, I could have hired a new governess while I was in the city. As it stands now, I’ll only be able to stay in Coryville a day before I have to turn right back around and return to San Francisco.”

“Why not simply spend the night in Oakland and take the morning ferry back to the city and hire a new governess?” Will suggested even though he knew James wouldn’t consider it.

“I can’t,” James told him. “I promised the Treasures I’d be home tomorrow morning. And I can’t disappoint them.”

“Have you tried to find someone in Coryville?” Will shrugged into his coat, then glanced out the window at the city of Oakland looming on the horizon.

“You know I’ve hired four governesses in the past month,” James admitted. “And they were all from Coryville. Remember? The first one was a former faro dealer, the second one was a former saloon girl. Our third governess was a Chinese laundress from the mining camp, and the last one a widow of one of the miners. Not a one of them met my qualifications. But …”

“But you felt sorry for them and offered them a better-paying job,” Will finished for him.

James gave a curt nod. “But only because it was convenient for me at the time.”

“I noticed they didn’t stay very long, but you never told me what happened to them.”

“The faro dealer was in the habit of sleeping all day. She quit because she didn’t like the early morning hours. I fired the saloon girl for sampling my Scotch and brandy reserves and because I discovered that when she took the Treasures out for their daily walk, she walked them downtown and left them sitting in their carriages on the boardwalk while she stopped in the saloons for a couple of beers. The Chinese laundress didn’t understand why I wanted the Treasures in the first place. She kept encouraging me to sell them and buy myself some sons, so I let her go. And the last one …” James reread the telegram. “Who knows?” He pinned his gaze on Will. “We had already had several discussions regarding our differing views of child-rearing. No, this time I think I’ll do better to look in San Francisco.”

“I think you’re right,” Will agreed. “Now, I’d better see to the unloading. Don’t forget to give my love to Mrs. G. and the Treasures.”

“Aren’t you stopping by the house?” James asked, hoping Will would be a calming influence on his housekeeper, Mrs. Glenross, and help provide a distraction for the Treasures.

“Nah.” Will shook his head. “You decided I should accompany the supplies up to the high timber camps and check on the progress of the track while I’m there. Remember?”

“I changed my mind,” James told him. “Send someone else.”

“Too late, Jamie,” Will shot back, halfway through the door of the salon. “I’m already gone. There’s no one else to send. Good luck finding a new governess.”

He’d need more than luck, James decided. He’d need a
miracle. Because finding a governess for his three rambunctious girls was next to impossible.

Fortunately, James already had someone in mind and the perfect reason to scour San Francisco searching for her.

“
WE’VE GOT ANOTHER
one.” Helen Glenross, James’s Scottish-born housekeeper, met him at the front door with a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms.

“Already? That’s wonderful, Mrs. G.” James didn’t look up. He stomped the dirt from his shoes on the front steps of his two-story Georgian-style brick home and shook the few flakes of a light spring snow off the brim of his hat and the shoulders of his coat, then stepped over the threshold.

Mrs. G. closed the front door behind him as James dropped his leather satchel, removed his heavy wool topcoat and hat and hung them on the hall tree, and wandered into his study. “Will gave me your telegram on the ferry. I didn’t expect to find another one so soon. Tell me, Mrs. G., now that you’ve hired a new governess, have you decided not to quit?” He picked up the stack of mail on his desk and began to sort through it.

“On the contrary,” she replied, finally grabbing James’s undivided attention. “Not only have I decided to quit, but the way things are going around here, I may leave tonight.”