Chances (5 page)

Elizabeth popped out of her chair, her face animated. “Well, we have some very active suffragists in Colorado. You know Mrs. McCook. Her husband, Edward, was the territorial governor. And then there’s Eliza Thompson, her sister-in-law. Together, they lead the state suffrage movement.”

Excitement leaped through Sarah. With the strong organization Elizabeth was describing, her efforts could truly make a difference. She would be able to do something important, be someone that mattered. She rose to join Elizabeth.

“What can I do?”

“Since we won’t know about the referendum until January, things will be quiet these next few months. We’re asking that everyone find other ways to make an impact. We’re hopeful you’ll speak on your position as telegrapher, a clear message to convey how capable women truly are.”

Remembering how much more difficult Bates had made her goal, Sarah sighed. “I’m afraid I haven’t felt very capable these past couple of days.”

Elizabeth reached for Sarah’s brandy snifter. “Bill mentioned you had a bit of a problem with Daniel Petterman.” She moved across the room.

Sarah cringed. “You weren’t kidding when you said there were no secrets, were you?”

“Heavens, no. I get to hear all the latest gossip first, even when I’m the object of it.”

Sarah caught her easy smile but knew it belied a great deal of pain. Like everyone else in Denver, she’d heard all about last spring’s incident with Hattie Sancomb. According to the rumors, Bill Byers had broken off an affair with Hattie only to have her appear on the street, firing at him with a revolver. Elizabeth herself had rescued her errant husband, but the scandal had cost him the Republican nomination for governor.

“It must be very difficult.”

“There are difficulties in everything, my dear. Benefits and drawbacks fill every aspect of life. Here’s your brandy, drink up.” She grinned. “Being in the public eye isn’t always easy, but it does have some positive associations. Where else would I be able to pursue so many different causes?”

“You’re involved with more than suffrage?”

“Heavens, yes. I’ve been head of the Ladies Relief Society for years. We work to raise money for the underprivileged. I’m involved with several cultural organizations, and I firmly believe this city needs to be doing something about the problems caused by our rapid growth. Worthy endeavors abound.”

“I guess I’ve been too focused on my career and suffrage.”

“Oh, Denver has a host of problems, my dear, plenty for you to become involved with until the suffrage campaign begins in earnest. In addition to all those pompous men we have to deal with and our lack of rights, we have poor sanitation, runaway crime, abandoned children, destitute families, streets of vice, and gangs of hoodlums who shoot children’s dogs.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She’d seen the dog shootings first hand, but she hadn’t realized there were so many other causes. “Are there efforts to correct all these problems?”

Elizabeth shook her head and sipped from her brandy. “Plenty of discussion, limited effort. What we need are more people willing to step forward and take leadership. I say, let’s get women involved. Show the men we can make a difference, that it’s about so much more than voting rights.” She nodded at Sarah. “What about you? You’ve encountered at least one of the problems yourself. How do you feel about pushing our citizens to action?”

A small thrill crept through Sarah. Elizabeth Byers thought she had leadership potential. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, curious to hear more.

“I propose you could take on the dog issue. You watched those little girls lose their dog, after all. And you’ve met Daniel Petterman.”

Sarah grinned at Elizabeth’s tone. “I take it Daniel is one of the ‘pompous men’ you’re referring to?”

“If anything is to be accomplished from that incident, Daniel Petterman needs to be put on the spot.”

“Well, I certainly shook him up when I made him get on that horse behind me.”

Elizabeth snorted, then covered her mouth. “Oh, my, I’ll wager you did. I wish I’d been there to see it. Bill says Mr. Petterman’s agreed to write a letter to the editor about the dogs, though.”

“I’m sure it will be very polite and cautiously worded.” It would be the dullest letter Bill Byers ever published.

“Which will get the cause nowhere. It’ll die on the editorial page without stirring any response. You can’t rally the public to action unless your initial effort enflames them. Daniel Petterman is clearly not capable of starting a fire under Denver’s public. No, I don’t think that is going to work.”

Elizabeth was exactly right. Daniel’s letter would stir no one. “Why bother with Daniel’s letter at all? Perhaps your husband could write an article on what happened.”

“Letters about real incidents have more power. People ignore general articles. They need their heartstrings pulled. They need the tears of little girls and the righteous anger of a father.” Elizabeth’s voice dropped. “Was he even angry?”

 “Well, he
did
get a little incensed about it when pushed.”

“He did?” She clasped her hand together, intent.

“Well, it took quite a bit of pushing, actually.” Sarah wondered what was on her new friend’s mind. She could just about see the wheels spinning in her head.

“But, he did get fired up?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then, we simply need to do it again.” Elizabeth poured more brandy into their glasses and smiled at Sarah as though they were fellow conspirators.

“We? Don’t look at me. I’m not going anywhere near the man. He’s one step away from reporting me to the Kansas Pacific, and my new superior won’t hesitate to have me fired if he does.”

“Nonsense, my dear. Daniel hasn’t the grit to raise enough of a stink to get anyone fired, and you know it. How about it, Sarah? You never answered me. Are you game to spur another cause? Will you lead us? Shall we get these bullies off the street and let children’s dogs live in peace? Shall we find a sensible alternative to control the problem of wild dogs? Will you join us, Sarah Donovan, and show this town who you are, or will you sit by and watch the cause falter?”

Sarah stared at her. “Good heavens, Elizabeth, what do you want me to do?”

Elizabeth stared back, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I want you to help Petterman write that letter.”

Chapter Four

The door to the coffin shop creaked open, sending late morning sun streaking across Daniel’s desk. He glanced up, expecting a customer.

Instead, Sarah Donovan stood in the doorway, framed in the sunlight. “Elizabeth Byers says your letter won’t work,” she said. She held what appeared to be his letter to the editor in her hand and peered at him with that no-nonsense look of hers. “She thinks it could use a little polishing.”

Daniel groaned. “What do you mean, Elizabeth thinks it won’t work?”

“She thinks the message is flat.” Sarah stepped farther into the coffin shop and closed the door behind her.

“Flat? It’s a finely crafted letter.” Daniel stood, more aggravated by the minute. Last night, he’d labored hours on the missive before having it delivered to Bill Byers. It irritated him that Bill’s infernal busybody wife had seen fit to step into the middle of it. He sighed and shook his head. “What does Elizabeth have to do with it any way? It’s Bill Byers’s paper.”

Sarah approached his desk as if he’d invited her. Her blond hair was pinned back in a strict style that emphasized her brusque manner. Her big violet eyes looked out place, somehow too soft for a take-charge woman like her. “Bill Byers doesn’t run that paper alone, and you know it. Elizabeth knows how to stir a cause.”

God save him from demon women. Daniel took a step forward, just to prove she wasn’t in control of what happened in
his
place of business. “Are you implying that Bill Byers is a puppet?” he asked in an even tone.

“Of course not.” She sounded irritated, as if she shouldn’t need to explain. “What I’m saying is that Bill is a smart man. His wife has a tremendous sense of what it takes to rally the public. He’d be a fool if he didn’t use her skills.”

The idea intruded, making sense, however unpalatable. Daniel bristled. “So you think Bill runs every idea past his wife?”

“I think Bill uses Elizabeth’s expertise when he thinks it will help his paper the same way she uses his when it helps her cause.” Sarah’s voice had risen, and she punctuated her words with quick hand movements, a habit Daniel found annoying.

He looked down at her tiny frame. Such vehemence from a little bird of a thing. He stood firm, hands on his hips, and fought against the smile that threatened to lift the corner of his mouth. She had gall, he had to give her that. “So now you’re here to help me?”

“Daniel, read your letter.” She thrust the envelope forward. “How does it make you feel?”

“Feel?” What was she getting at?

“Bill Byers wants a letter that will make his readers angry. He wants something that will make people pound their fists on the table and denounce the bounty.” She slapped the envelope against the palm of her hand. “He wants people so upset that they get up out of their chairs and do something.”

There she went again, blathering away. Daniel sighed a second time and drew a breath. “Look, I hardly think—”

She stomped her foot and glared at him. “That’s the point.”

Daniel’s patience thinned, and he moved forward, heart pounding. “What gives you the right to march into my shop and insult me?”

“Seems to me as though the Bill of Rights gives all of us the right to insult anyone we want,” she snapped.

“Sarah Donovan, you need a husband.”

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked her eyes for a moment. “What?”

“You need a husband. You’re far too free-mouthed, and I think it’d do you good to have someone issue you a little discipline.” Daniel heard his voice, louder than he’d intended.

“Discipline? Like that code you live under? Little rules that keep you from experiencing life?” Her tone had risen as well, but she retained control, and it struck Daniel that she knew exactly what she was doing.

His annoyance turned to anger at the attack on his ordered code of conduct. “My life is none of your business.”

She stepped closer. “You
have
no life.”

“I have a fine life.”

“I’m sure. You polish your coffins and lay out your dead and remind your daughters to behave when all they really need to do is be children.”

The words stung. “Don’t you dare bring my daughters into this.”

She stepped even closer, toe-to-toe, and glared up at him. “And why not? Don’t you realize what all that imposed self-control is doing to them? You’re forcing them to grow up too soon. When was the last time they had any fun? They’re so busy being perfect that they hold in their feelings. Do you realize they were so worried about appearances that they couldn’t even grieve over Biscuit the way they needed to? They should have been sobbing their heads off instead of worrying about what you or anyone else would think.”

Daniel fought to ignore the fire in his head. “Who the devil do you think you are?” he yelled.

Sarah smiled benignly. “See? Didn’t that feel better?”

Good God, he’d yelled at her, cursed even. Daniel turned away, embarrassed. He hadn’t intended to do that, but it
had
felt good. That bothered him immensely. Losing control wasn’t supposed to feel good.

He breathed deeply. He hated her words, hated them because they pricked at him, because he didn’t want them to be even remotely true. Lashing out at the stab of guilt her accusation had provoked
had been the only way he could deal with it. Such outbursts went against everything he’d always stood for, a forbidden self-indulgence that could lead to God knew what. Calming himself, he turned back to her and kept his voice level. “It felt like I lost control.”

She nodded, her gaze softer than he’d ever seen it. “But just for a moment, you wanted to do something, didn’t you? You reacted. That’s what this letter should accomplish. It should make people angry enough to do something about the idiotic bounty. I can’t do it alone, and you most assuredly aren’t going to do it. Think how many people read the
Rocky Mountain News
. If even half of them step forward, that’s a great many people spurred to action.”

He knew she was right. Much as he hated to admit it, most of the world
did
respond to emotion. Pushed, even he resorted to reaction. She’d certainly proved that. Still, he liked his letter. It appealed to logic, not emotion. He glanced at the envelope, still clutched in her small hand, though it was considerably less crisp than it had been when she came in. “And now you want to rewrite this letter, so it makes people angry?”

“I don’t intend to rewrite it, Daniel. I plan to help
you
rewrite it.” She opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

“It’s perfectly fine as is,” he hedged.

“It’s too perfect. It doesn’t incite change.”

Daniel heaved another sigh. The woman was an aggravation, bent on leading him astray. “If I agree to this, you’ll leave me alone? I won’t have to listen to your half-baked comments about my character, and you’ll quit insulting me?”

She shook her head with a smile that lit her entire face. “I speak my mind. I can’t promise you won’t be insulted by my comments, and I’m not about to start pussy-footing around because you can’t handle the truth.” She sobered. “I’m not enthusiastic about working with you, either. But I do want to get the community to stand against random killing of family pets. It that takes a few hours of your company, so be it.”

Daniel glanced at her, his mind on the words she’d uttered earlier. He still wasn’t sure if it was that she had insulted him or that there was a grain of truth in what she had said but, for some inexplicable reason, he needed her to know that he loved Kate and Molly; that he did the best he could for them.

“Sarah? I really do care about my girls. Don’t slander my affection for them and don’t question how I raise them. That isn’t your business. Agreed?”

She nodded. “Agreed. But that doesn’t mean you’ve changed my mind.”