Chances (8 page)

Goodness, he hadn’t seen that tea set for ages. His wife, Mary, had bought it for the girls just before she died, some five years ago. He didn’t recall them ever playing with it in the time since. He’d forgotten they even had it.

Bill held a dainty hand-painted teacup between his thumb and forefinger. He grinned at Daniel and raised the cup.

“May we offer you some tea, Papa?” Kate asked in her best grown-up voice. Her hazel eyes glistened with pride.

“Why, thank you, Kate. It was thoughtful of you and Molly to serve tea to Mr. Byers.” Daniel settled into a chair while she poured a second cup, then accepted it on its fragile saucer.

“Of course, we served tea. A good hostess always offers tea. I’m sorry we have no crumpets.”

Molly nodded her brown curls in solemn agreement. “Besides, I never get to use my tea set otherwise.”

The innocent comment hit Daniel squarely in his gut.

When was the last time Kate and Molly had played with other children? They should be having tea parties with other little girls, not entertaining their father’s guests.

Daniel drained his rapidly cooling tea. On the sofa, Bill handed his cup to Kate with a satisfied sigh, his eyes twinkling. Molly collected Daniel’s cup and saucer, placed them on the tiny silver tray, and beamed at her sister. Kate nodded. The girls stood primly and carried the tea set into the kitchen.

“Lovely girls, Daniel, very mature,” Bill praised.

Perhaps more mature than they should be, Daniel thought. Hadn’t Sarah said much the same thing? He shook his head to clear the thought and leaned forward. “Thanks, Bill. What brings you away from the paper?”

“Planning, my good man, planning. I wanted to get a grasp on your vision for the committee. Have you any bright ideas in mind?”

Daniel nodded, more assured than he’d been the last time Bill had been around to prod him. “My mind has been reeling with ideas.”

Bill raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“I think what’s most important here is finding a way to compromise. I listened to the comments at that city council meeting. Denver has a problem here, one of many. Stray dogs are a nuisance to business owners and private homeowners alike. They are also creating a sanitation problem. They become wild and pose a physical danger. All of that impacts the whole community and threatens the children. It’s clear that we need to do something to reduce or eliminate these strays.”

“Well said.”

Daniel released a deep breath. “But offering a dead-or-alive bounty is encouraging hoodlums to shoot dogs without regard to ownership or safety. We need to find another method to solve the first problem or we’ve only created a second one.”

“I thoroughly agree.” Bill stood, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. He turned back to Daniel and anticipation lit his face. “What do you propose the committee do?”

Daniel rose, knowing Bill had likely figured out the answer for himself already. “We need ideas, lots of ideas.” He stated the obvious. “Our first meeting should consist of just that. We need to explore all options. List every conceivable idea then pick each one of them apart until we’ve examined the good and the bad related to each. Once we’ve done that, we pick the best of the bunch, refine it, and present it to city council.”

Bill shook his head and chuckled. “I never would have thought it.”

“Thought what?”

“That you would come up with a plan like that. You’ve got to admit it’s not your usual style.”

Daniel chewed at his bottom lip. It felt good, taking an unexpected step, stating what he felt. He’d always assumed the only respectable way of doing things was the one his father had dictated. “Maybe I’m coming to learn there’s more than one way to skin a cat. I didn’t look for this appointment and never would have placed myself here. But, it seems the fairest, most efficient method, as well as a thoroughly dignified way to get things done, much to my surprise.”

“And you’re not angry about my suggestion to include Sarah Donovan?” Bill crossed his arms and grinned.

 “She’s a shrewd woman.” Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “Combine her with your wife’s insight on how to get those ideas in action and we’ve probably got the most powerful committee we could ever hope to have. A week ago, I’d have dismissed both of them. But, now, I’m seeing things a little differently.”

Bill laughed. “Tut tut, do we have a burgeoning suffrage supporter?”

“Hah!” The thought made Daniel shudder. “I might listen a little closer but I wouldn’t let either one of those manipulating females anywhere near a ballot box.”

“Speaking of my dear wife, she’d like me to offer our house as the site of the first committee meeting.”

“Sounds fine. I’ll need to arrange for Mrs. Winifred to stay with the girls. Did Elizabeth set a date and time?”

“She said to tell you to plan for dinner on Friday evening, seven o’clock. She’ll take care of the invitations.”

Dinner? Daniel let the suggestion settle. It sounded more like a social event than a meeting. What was Bill’s wife was trying to finagle this time? He shook the thought off. There was nothing improper about meeting over dinner. Dinner at the Byers’ would be a highly respectable affair.

“Took it for granted I’d agree, didn’t she?”

Across the room, Bill sobered. “Elizabeth takes nothing for granted, Daniel.”

Daniel’s thoughts drifted to Sarah and the surprises a formal dinner might offer. Maybe. As long as no one took anything for granted.

Nodding, he signaled his agreement to the idea, then sealed it. “Then she might make sure Miss Donovan knows she should dress for dinner. Have Elizabeth lend her something if she has to. Otherwise, she’ll show up in that ugly work skirt again.”

* * * * *

“I’m sorry I had to call you in like this, Sarah. You want I should boil up another pot of coffee?”

Sarah stifled a yawn and smiled weakly at Jim. She was more than a little sorry herself. The long sleep-filled morning she’d looked forward to had vanished with Jim’s summons. Still, it was good to be back on day shift. She wondered if Bates could be fired for failing to show up. She yawned widely and thought about Jim’s offer, then shook her head. “More coffee I could use but I think maybe
I’ll
boil it up this time.”

Jim grinned and had the good grace to look chagrined. “That bad?”

“‘Fraid so.” She dumped the old coffee then filled the pot with fresh water from the pail near the door. She ground a handful of beans and added the new grounds, then placed the pot on the small iron stove in the corner. Eying the growing pile of messages in the delivery basket, she wondered if she’d get stuck distributing them, too.

Jim caught her glance. “The new boy’s a little slow but he should be back soon.” He paused, then issued a benevolent smile. “I sure do miss having you around here, girl. There’s more than one good reason I didn’t willingly put Bates on as primary op. The man might have the experience, but he sure makes a mess out of the wires and he ain’t particularly neighborly. Wouldn’t even have put him on as delivery man if I hadn’t been forced to.”

Sarah couldn’t agree more but she figured it would be best to keep her opinions to herself. “Where is he, anyway?”

Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Haven’t a clue. The man gets more worthless every year.” He paused and shook his head. “Time was, he wanted to take on the world. He just never had the skill to do it, I guess. I hear he lost every job he’s had up to now, and I still don’t know how he passed his primary op test. Probably why he resents you so much.”

“Because it comes easy to me?”

“Yep.” Jim pushed at his glasses. “I imagine he’ll throw another fit when the brownies get tossed into his file, but I’m going to toss ‘em just the same. Far as I’m concerned, failure to report for duty ought to be enough to release him from his position. The superintendent is going to hear about this, you can count on it. I’m running everything through his office, just to be safe.”

Sarah nodded, knowing Jim hated the administrative layers that existed because of Bates and his uncle. Despite being the stationmaster, his decisions were no longer independent. Without the superintendent’s approval, he left himself open to Bates’s insinuations. But running things up the ladder often delayed action for days at a time.

“You sure you can handle doing a double shift?”

“I told you before, you can count on me. Besides, it’s good to have more to do than simply listen to the depot groan all night, especially since I don’t have to throw any switches.”

Jim’s face paled. “Wish you didn’t have to do that.” He frowned and moved back to his own stool at the ticket counter. Unexpected silence drifted through the station as he sorted through ticket stubs.

Sarah checked the logbook, comparing Bates’s scribbles to her own careful penmanship. Jim should have the superintendent go through the log. Some of the entries were almost illegible. The dispatcher would have a fit if he saw them.

Her slender finger ran down the page, stopping as she came upon gaps in the record. Several times, she noted that he’d neglected to indicate whether or not wires had been delivered. If that kept up, Western Union would take their business elsewhere. He’d even forgotten to record a signal order.

“Jim? Have you seen the log?”

“Sent word up the line yesterday. Shame, isn’t it? You get a bad apple and you can’t even toss him out unless you jump through the hoops like a circus dog.”

Sarah nodded and set the book aside.

“Noticed your log entries are pretty sparse. You ain’t just sitting all night? You practicing like I told you to?”

It was common for night operators to send private messages back and forth, in between official wires. Most were petty correspondences, meant only to keep the fingers active and the ear well trained. Still, it was good practice, and she’d already discovered she needed to work on her translation skills. Some of the operators were rough, but a primary op had to be able to decipher their messages as well as those sent by the more precise operators. “It’s tough to get used to.”

“Yeah, but it’s about the only way anybody on the late trick can get any finger work in.”

Sarah thought about last night’s messages, each a mystery in itself, signed with an operator’s sine, or identifying code. She’d go over them later, searching out her errors. “It just seems strange to be exchanging personal wires with folks I don’t even know,” she said.

“Yep, that’s true. But it’ll keep you busy for hours, if you find somebody as bored as you are. As long as the KP don’t mind, keep firing those messages away. Keeps the fingers nimble, and you’re going to need that to make primary op.”

“You know they’ve all figured out which one is me by now.”

“Figured they would.” He nodded. “Don’t take too long to link your sine with Denver and Denver with ‘that female op.’ Pretty soon, they’ll know you just by your tapping pattern, too. They giving you any trouble?”

Sarah grinned. “I had two proposals last night.”

“Marriage proposals?” Jim pushed his spectacles up and peered at her with curiosity.

“Not exactly.” Leaving Jim to sort out her meaning, she turned to the wire and began to record an incoming message. She picked out a distinctive tapping and recognized the operator. “It’s from Bean,” she announced with pride. Recognition of her fellow operators by their unique styles was the first mark of primary op skill.

The message finished, she recorded it and handed it to Jim, instructions for the next siding. He rose from his stool, then headed out the door to pass it on to the men in the yard.

Sarah smiled as she watched him through the window. She definitely liked the day shift better. Pouring herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee, she returned to her counter. The first cup wasn’t the best either, but it sure beat that day-old paste she’d dumped earlier.

Jim reentered the station, pushing at his glasses. “You never said how things are going on the suffrage front.”

“Slow. Things are pretty much at a standstill until the legislature’s decision in January. The upper echelons are handling all the meetings with them, so I’ve been focusing on other things for awhile.”

She tidied the counter as Jim watched.

“Heard you got yourself nominated to a committee the other night,” he prompted.

Sarah turned in exasperation. “Elizabeth Byers got me nominated. I’m not too thrilled about it myself.”

Jim frowned. “Why, a committee sounds like just the place you’d want to be.”

“Not that one.”

“A little testy about it, are you?” he observed as he found his stool.

Sarah sighed. She still didn’t like the idea of serving on a committee with the monster she’d created. Daniel had been easier to work with when he’d been predictable. That infernal kiss and his new enthusiasm threw her off balance.

She glanced at her friend and decided to confide in him. “Elizabeth wanted me to get involved in local politics, her strategy for demonstrating the capabilities of women. She gave me an assignment, I carried it out, and now I’m stuck on a committee I don’t want to be on, and if I don’t give it my all, I’ll fail. Yes, I’m a little testy.”

Jim turned at the sharpness in her voice and set his hands on his lap. “What’s eating at you, girl?”

She pulled in a breath and slowly let it out. “Daniel Petterman.”

Jim nodded solemnly. “Ah.”

“Ah?” she choked out. She should have kept her mouth shut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He turned back to the ticket counter and reached for his coffee cup.

Sarah stood and crossed the room, her shoes clicking all the way. “Now wait just one danged minute. When a person says ‘ah’ in that tone of voice, it isn’t ‘nothing’.”

Jim ignored her temper. “You got some problem with Petterman?” he queried.

Sarah fought to stay calm. Jim was clearly baiting her. She refused to be drawn into an argument about Daniel, and she certainly was not about to admit that there was more bothering her than business. She smoothed her faded work skirt with her hands and picked up Jim’s coffee cup. “Only that I assigned his corpse to another undertaker and ended up with a few brownies in my file. You know that as well as I do.”