Chances (32 page)

She picked up a pile of telegrams, folded them with care, then stuffed them into envelopes and labeled them. The youngster Jim had hired for afternoon deliveries would arrive soon, and she hating to keep him waiting. Besides, work took her mind off Daniel.

Out in the lobby, the main door squeaked open and Sarah made a note to have Ernie fetch out the oilcan when he came in. She stood and peered out the ticket window.

A lad of sixteen or so stomped his feet on the worn buffalo hide that served as a floor rug. He glanced around the office and shifted his wool cap back on his head. His dark hair scraped the collar of his plaid jacket. The kid spotted her and crossed the lobby. “You Miss Donovan?” he asked.

“I am. What can I do for you?”

“Got a package for you.” He extended a small paper-wrapped box and set it on the counter. “Sign here.”

Sarah eyed the package, bristling with curiosity, and placed her signature on the form. It was from Joslin’s Dry Goods. She fished into her skirt pocket for a couple of pennies, tipped the boy, and waited until he crossed the lobby and shut the door behind him. Then she set the package on the counter and stared at it.

She didn’t recall anyone ever sending her a package before. Warm pleasure crept through her, as satisfying as any public acclaim she’d ever received.

Careful not to tear the wrapping, she slit the paper open and pulled it away. A hinged cigar box beckoned her to open its lid. She savored the suspense for a moment, then lifted the cover. Inside, layers of tissue paper waited. Sarah smiled, stretching out the anticipation, and reached into the box.

Beneath the layers of tissue lay a perfect white chocolate rose. A small paper note lay beneath it, filled with Daniel’s strong lettering.
Roses in January are not easy to find. Please accept this one, along with my heart, and join me for dinner.

Delighted champagne giggles rose in Sarah’s throat.

She picked up the paper and turned it over. It was blank.

She lifted the rose from its resting place, careful not to break it, and shuffled through the tissue. Finding nothing else there, she turned to the box itself and searched it for another note, then rummaged through the outer wrappings.

God in Heaven, of course she’d join him for dinner. She just needed to know when and where.

She sat down on her stool and shook her head. Giddy with excitement, she tried to sort everything out. This was like opening just one present at Christmas and having to wait for the rest. A sense of excitement filled her at Daniel’s calculated whimsy.

… accept this one, along with my heart …

Her skin prickled, and she swore she could feel her heart pumping. From Daniel, the simple words meant more than a whole volume of love letters. She shivered.

The clatter of the telegraph key shattered the moment, calling her back to work. Her reluctant mind deciphered the assorted dots and dashes and she translated them into letters. The wire quieted and she set about translating the letters into words, humming to herself as she did so.

From Mr. Daniel Petterman to Miss Sarah Donovan STOP

Sarah’s breath caught and her hand stilled. This time, she knew her heart was beating with abandon. She hurriedly translated the remaining letters.

Friday evening at seven at the Grand Central STOP I promise to leave all ghosts behind STOP

* * * * *

Once the five o’clock rush was over, Frank set his official envelope to the Kansas Pacific Railroad on the counter and sneered at Sarah’s stool. The packet contained copies of the allegations, a description of the evidence and his pledge to send it upon request. The forged note had already been mailed.

Frank smiled to himself. He’d done a pretty fine job on the note. He hadn’t even needed to find a forger. He’d done it all himself, real careful like. Yessir, she couldn’t ruin him anymore. He’d played his hand first this time, and she was in for one mighty big surprise. Just to be on the safe side, he’d copied down the information about the telegram that Petterman had sent setting up the tryst in the hotel. Leave it to Sarah to record it in the logbook. Frank reckoned it was nothing but bragging on her part.

Lavinia had favored him with such a smile when he told her about Petterman. She’d clasped his hands and told him he was wonderful. Frank guessed it was about as close as she’d ever come to professing her love for him, genteel lady that she was.

Yep, he had all his ducks in a row, now.

Sarah Donovan would be out from under his skin, he’d get his promotion back, and tomorrow night, he intended to ask Lavinia for her hand in marriage.

Once he finished the favor she’d asked of him, he had no doubt she’d be his.

Hadn’t she said as much when she cooed at him and touched his cheek? All he had to do was make sure their fellow boarder Harry Bowers heard all about Petterman’s mushy telegram. He wasn’t sure he understood why Lavinia wanted Bowers to know, but she’d asked special. It was an easy enough thing to do, but it seemed to mean so much to Lavinia.

Yessir, it wouldn’t be long, now.

Chapter Nineteen

Daniel sat at a secluded corner table in the Grand Central dining room and tugged at his tie, nervous as a schoolboy. The starched white tablecloth was crisp and elegant, the silver gleaming, and the chef had assured a memorable meal. He sighed and motioned the waiter, then requested a brandy.

For a brief moment, he worried she might not show up, but he knew she would never have telegraphed her acceptance if she didn’t mean to come.

The waiter returned with a snifter of amber liquid and set it on the table. Daniel lifted it, sipped heartily, and settled his thoughts on the night ahead.

The soft tinkle of Sarah’s laughter floated through the room, drawing Daniel’s attention to the lobby entrance. The maitre d’ slid her wrap off her shoulders. She stood in the golden glow of the gaslight. Her lush blond hair was piled high on her head, with a falling mass of delicate curls.

Daniel’s mouth lifted into a smile.

She wore a new dress, a concoction of burgundy hues. The skirt draped in simple folds across the front of her hips and its square neck revealed a hint of cleavage above a form-fitting bodice. The effect, suggesting a corset, took his breath away.

There wasn’t an ounce of practicality about the gown.

Sarah’s gaze drifted across the room, lighting on Daniel.

He stood, widening his smile with deliberate slowness.

She mirrored the action, briefly, then broke into a full-fledged grin. She moved through the room, male gazes lingering on her as she passed.

Warmth filled Daniel, an unexpected satisfaction in the reaction she’d stirred. His loins tightened and he shifted his stance.

Good God, she’s beautiful.

She neared the table, the waiter holding her chair until she was seated.

Daniel waited until the waiter had eased Sarah’s chair forward then sat himself.

Sarah’s violet eyes were full of fiery sparkle. She took a deep breath, her breasts rising against the snug fit of her dress, then exhaled. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Daniel fought to keep from staring at her bared skin. Instead, he caught her gaze and gave her a languid half smile. “You’re entirely welcome.”

She laughed, her curls bobbing slightly, then sobered. “I didn’t think you’d give me another chance.” She paused and a slight pink blush crept across her cheeks. “I’m glad you did.”

“I’m glad you came. As judgmental as I was, I didn’t know if you’d give
me
another chance.”

Daniel watched her lips rise into a soft expression of absolution and knew they’d both crossed the first hurdle of the evening. “The play was incredible,” he said. “I regret not telling you that night. I wish I had.”

“Thank you, but it was the children who did well, not I.”

Daniel shook his head. “The script was well chosen and well written. The cast was perfect and you pulled a marvelous performance from those kids. I learned a lot.” He stared at her, waiting for her to deny it.

“Then we both did well, didn’t we?”

He nodded, knowing she was right, and let his gaze drift over her while the waiter appeared with the first course.

Her white skin, usually hidden, drew him and he experienced a small thrill that she’d forsaken her usual clothing choices.

“Daniel?”

“I’m sorry. My mind was a thousand miles away.”

“I thought as much.” She lifted a spoonful of watercress soup to her mouth. The edge of her tongue flitted to the spoon for the briefest of moments before her lips touched it.

Daniel shifted in his chair and concentrated on not spilling his own soup until the silence became too provocative. “So, how does it feel to be a primary operator?”

“Good. Really good.”

“It’s a pretty major accomplishment, from what I hear.” He waited for the waiter to clear the soup bowls, then leaned forward. “I’m pleased for you. I wish I’d told you that earlier, too.”

She mouthed a quiet “thank you,” as the main course of beefsteak and steaming boiled potatoes arrived. The waiter served glasses of deep red wine, then disappeared.

Sarah cut into her steak and glanced across the table. “So, are we starting over?”

Daniel shrugged, her directness no longer surprising him. “Yes and no, I guess.” He supposed they could go on all night, making small talk about nothing. His stomach knotted. The moment would disappear if he didn’t seize it. He set down his fork and laid his hand on the table.

Sarah grasped it and waited.

He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, drawing confidence, then looked into her violet eyes. “I think we’re way past starting things, aren’t we?” At her tentative smile, he continued. “Sarah, you’re not the woman I would have chosen, but you are impossible to ignore. Truth be told, ignoring you is the last thing on my mind. It’s time to let myself take a risk on life for once.”

Sarah swallowed and nodded.

“I’d like to see where this takes us.”

“I can’t live within the boundaries of propriety that you’re accustomed to. You know that.”

“I know, but maybe I need to set new boundaries, or at least not worry so much when the old ones are crossed.”

She nodded again and squeezed his hand, then pulled away. Bringing both hands together to her mouth, she sighed, then lowered them and looked him in the eye. “And you’ll expect the same of me?”

He nodded. “I’d like to know the Sarah that’s underneath the telegrapher and suffragist and do-gooder.”

“I’d like that, too.”

“Here’s to a fresh start, then.” He lifted his wineglass.

“To taking chances.”

“And all that they bring.”

They clinked their glasses together and sipped, the moment heady in all they had not said.

Daniel watched her, letting the silence play out. Her face filled with satisfaction as she savored each bit of tender steak and he marveled at how such a simple act could stir him so much. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Beautiful scares me.”

Her words were light but he knew better than to dismiss them. He debated about how to answer her, afraid of scaring her away, afraid to let them go without saying anything. “It shouldn’t. There are very few people who are self-confident, intelligent, and talented as well as beautiful. You shouldn’t have to hide from any part of who you are.”

She caught his gaze. “Words of wisdom from a man who keeps his passion under wraps?”

He smiled, allowing her retreat. “Passion scares me.”

“It shouldn’t.” She smiled, an acknowledgment of the lightheartedness in his voice, then sobered. She stared at him, her chest rising and falling. “Passion is so much a part of you. What you did yesterday, the chocolate rose, the telegram, and the incredible anticipation you stirred in me, was full of passion, very deliberate passion.”

Traces of her sultry tones hung in the air and Daniel grew hard at the images they suggested, the passion that was Sarah. He ached with the need to let go of his restraint and follow the images, but, first, he needed her to understand.

“When I was a boy,” he began, then paused and drew a breath. “When I was a boy, my father used to take a switch to me if I lost control. He’d beat me until it bled, as my penance. Passion had no role in correct behavior. By the time I was six or seven, I had smothered whatever passion I felt and quit trying to live any other way. I avoided temptations and accepted Father’s narrow life. I never really knew anything else.”

He lifted his gaze and caught the smile Sarah offered, thankful it held acceptance and understanding, no pity.

“I knew Mary from the time I learned to walk. She was a gentle guide, the perfect contrast to my father. Somehow, she always made me see things in a different light, kept my passion in check in her own way, but never killed it. I needed her for that. Otherwise, I think I would have turned hard and bitter and rebelled until I destroyed myself.”

Sarah nodded. “You loved her?” she asked.

Daniel recognized the unasked question in her tone, her need to know if his heart was free. He caught Sarah’s hand and held it tightly. “Yes, I loved her, and a part of me always will. But I don’t think I was ever
in love
with her. Until now, I never even realized there was a difference.”

“I think there’s quite a difference.”

He raised her hand to his lips, kissed it, and let it go. “Tonight’s not about my father, or about Mary. I think we’re done with them now. I’d like to let them be.”

“I think I’d like that, too.” She dawdled with her remaining food, one hand drifting to her abdomen, and she sighed.

Daniel leaned forward. “I meant what I said, earlier, about you being beautiful. The dress is perfect.”

“It’s tight and it’s impractical. You don’t know how hard it was to walk into the store and pick this out.”

“Yes, I do.” He sobered and lowered his voice. “Do you have any idea what it did to me, seeing you in it?”

“I think so.” A glint lit her eyes and she also leaned forward until he had a clear view of her cleavage. “But maybe you ought to tell me, just in case.”