The Bride's House (24 page)

“We could wear furs and diamonds now, if we chose to,” Pearl told him.

Charlie chuckled. “Yes, I suppose. But you don’t want them.”

“You forget that I have a pair of diamond earrings—”

“Which you never wear.”

“And a little fur.”

“That belonged to your mother.”

“She spent a pretty penny on a dress in Denver,” Mrs. Travers interjected. “I believe you’ll like it. It is the color of apple blossoms.”

Charlie nodded his approval. “So you went to the city, then?”

“Oh, Papa. We had a wonderful time. We stayed two nights,” Pearl said. “We visited the zoo and the park and the state capitol, and I had an ice-cream soda. I believe we should get some ice cream and soda, and I’ll make one for you—chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry. It is mighty good. Perhaps we should have an ice-cream social on the lawn next summer and serve sodas.”

Charlie looked at his daughter curiously. She had always disliked entertaining. “And did you see a picture show?”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Travers told him. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have a gun, or I’d have shot the robber myself. It was that real. Do you remember when you took Nealie to the Opera House and she thought the story was taking place in front of her eyes?” The old woman chuckled. “Well, that’s just the way we felt at the picture show.”

The two continued talking about the trip, and when dinner was over and Charlie had taken himself uptown to the saloons, Pearl realized that neither one of the women had mentioned seeing Frank Curry. Pearl had not asked Mrs. Travers to refrain from saying his name, but the old woman, like Pearl, seemed to sense that Frank Curry should be kept out of their conversations with Charlie Dumas.

*   *   *

Several days later, Pearl came into the house just as Mrs. Travers was setting supper on the table. The young woman had gone out for a short walk, but instead, she’d started up the mountain, and lost in her thoughts of Frank Curry, she had gone farther than she’d expected. But the hike had been fruitful, because along the way, she had decided how to tell her father about the engagement. She would ask him to accompany her on that same walk on Sunday, after church, when he generally put aside business cares and was in a jovial mood. He would have a week or more to accustom himself to the idea of Pearl’s marriage, before Frank arrived in Georgetown.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Lidie. I walked too far and left you with all the work,” Pearl said, hanging up her shawl, an old one that had belonged to her mother, and hurrying into the dining room.

“You’d have done a better job of it,” the older woman said. “The chops are dry, and I burned the Arkansas wedding cake. It’s a poor supper.”

“I’m sure the meat is edible, and as for the cornbread, Papa doesn’t care much about it anyway. Besides, your poorest is better than most women’s best,” Pearl said, because she was in high humor. “Shall I fetch Papa?”

Mrs. Travers nodded, and Pearl knocked on the doors of the study, then slid them open. Charlie sat reading his mail and did not glance at her until Pearl said, “Papa?” He looked up in acknowledgment, and she added, “Supper is on the table.”

“I’ll be there.” He waved his hand in dismissal, and Pearl went into the dining room, where she and Mrs. Travers sat down. They waited, Mrs. Travers frowning at the food that was cooling, until Pearl got up and went back to the study and asked, “Papa, are you coming to the table, or should we go ahead without you? I can bring you a plate in here if you like.”

Charlie sat with his back to the girl, staring out the window. “I’m coming,” he said. But it was several more minutes before he sat down at the head of the table.

“Are you very busy, Papa?” Pearl asked.

“I have had a setback.”

“Oh,” Pearl exclaimed, because Charlie rarely had business downturns. “I hope it’s not bad.” She buttered a piece of cornbread and took a bite, frowning at the burned taste. She did not feel much like eating and set it down.

“It is a disappointment.” He chewed on a piece of meat and said, “Mrs. Travers, this chop is as dry as granite.”

Both women stared at him, since Charlie never complained about the food. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” the older woman said. “I told Pearl—”

Charlie waved his hand. “Supper doesn’t matter. I’ve had a great shock.” The women set down their forks, and Charlie continued. “It seems my daughter, whom I believed to be a woman of virtue, sneaked off to Denver with a man while I was away.” He looked at Mrs. Travers while he spoke, but when he was finished, he turned to stare at Pearl.

“Papa!” the young woman cried.

“Charlie Dumas!” Mrs. Travers exclaimed at the same time. “There was no carryings-on. You yourself suggested the trip, and I was with Pearl every minute.”

“Were you?” He gave her a look that would have scorched the cornbread, if it had not already been burned. “Then it’s an odd thing that the letter I received from the governor doesn’t mention you. John Shafroth wrote to say he was delighted to meet Pearl in the capitol building—and her companion, Frank Curry. But he did not remark on a Mrs. Travers.”

“There was only that one afternoon.” Mrs. Travers paused, stiffening her back. “But they were hardly alone, unless you think the capitol dome, which is in plain sight for half of Denver to see, is a place for talking moonshine. You’ve no right to accuse your own daughter—”

Charlie interrupted her. “Is there some reason you didn’t tell me you went to Denver to meet a man?” he asked Pearl. “I believe your mother would be ashamed of you.”

Pearl gasped. Charlie had never evoked Nealie in that way.

“No such a thing, Charlie,” Mrs. Travers broke in, remembering, perhaps, that Nealie had had a daring streak and that Pearl had been born less than nine months after Nealie married Charlie. “You know Pearl is an honorable girl. I won’t let you say that.”

Charlie ignored the older woman, and his eyes bored into Pearl. “Are you struck dumb?”

For the first time in her life, Pearl feared her father’s anger. “I can explain that, Papa. Mr. Curry called here a day or two after you went to New Mexico. When he discovered we were going to Denver, he offered to show us the sights. We would never have seen so much if he hadn’t taken us about. We did nothing behind your back.”

“Then why did I learn from the governor that you were in Denver with this man? Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”

“Hold your taters, Charlie,” Mrs. Travers broke in. “It’s no wonder Pearl doesn’t confide in you, because you find something wrong with any young man who catches her eye. I believe it goes back to the day when you were jealous over—”

Charlie gave the old woman a hard look. “Do you value your job, Lydia?”

Mrs. Travers was taken aback and didn’t reply. In all the years she had worked for Charlie Dumas, he had never suggested she leave. She was as much a part of the household as Pearl.

“If you do, I suggest you hold your tongue,” Charlie continued.

“You’d fire me, then? Well, fire away, Charlie. You won’t shut me up.” Still, the old woman kept silent after that.

“You don’t know what you’re saying to Aunt Lidie,” Pearl told her father.

“I know exactly what I’m saying. But don’t let’s change the subject. We were talking about you and Frank Curry. What am I to think of you, Pearl, if the governor of the state knows more about my daughter than I? Frank Curry is no longer welcome in this house. I forbid you seeing him again. Am I clear?”

“You can’t mean that, Papa.”

“Do I usually say things I don’t mean?”

Pearl gripped her hands together so tightly that her knuckles were pale. Her forehead was damp, and her heart beat so hard that she thought her father must hear it. “I…” she said. She dropped her eyes to her lap, while both Charlie and Mrs. Travers stared at her. Without looking up, she said, “Frank Curry and I are going to be married, Papa. He is coming to the house in a few days to ask you for my hand.”

“He has my answer now!” Charlie thundered.

Pearl raised her eyes to study her father for a moment. She was not angry exactly, but she was greatly disappointed. She did not shout as he had but instead said quietly, “I believe that is my decision, not yours.”

“Just as it will be your decision to live in poverty, then. Your Mr. Curry won’t get money out of me.”

“We’ll do without your fortune. Mr. Curry does not expect a cent from me.”

“Oh no, but he expects it from me. Where do you plan to live?”

“Why, here in the Bride’s House, of course. I thought you’d want us to.”

“Without paying a penny for upkeep, I imagine. And how will Mr. Curry support you?”

“He has an income.”

“Has he?” Charlie’s voice was lower now, less angry. “If he has money, why does he ask me for funds?”

“To invest in his molybdenum mine.”

“Oh yes, since no one else will back him. Child, don’t you see that Mr. Curry is only after our money? Do you think he would care for you if I were a fireman on the railroad?”

“That’s not fair, Papa. Mr. Curry loves me. He told me so.”

Charlie pushed aside his plate and leaned across the table toward Pearl. “Why does he love you, Pearl? Is it your beauty? Your charm? Perhaps you are a clever conversationalist or a fine horsewoman. Is that it? It couldn’t possibly be that Mr. Curry has fallen in love with your fortune, can it?”

Although she knew she had none of those qualities her father mentioned, Pearl was hurt more than she would have believed by Charlie’s words, for she had always thought she was perfect in her father’s eyes. She slumped in her chair, one hand to her cheek. “That’s not so,” she said. “Frank loves me, not your money.”

“You’ve no right, Charlie,” Mrs. Travers snapped. “Toss me aside like fool’s gold, but I’ll speak my mind. Any man would be lucky to marry Pearl. She is a fine young woman, and if you don’t know it, then shame on you.”

“I do know it. Of course I do,” Charlie said, not unkindly. “I wouldn’t wish for any other daughter. But you must look at it plainly. There is a reason she is a spinster.”

“How can you say that, Papa?” Pearl cried.

“Because it’s the truth. And because I’d rather hurt your feelings now than see you live a lifetime with a man who cares only for your money. Do you want that?”

“It’s not so. You don’t know Frank. I believe you don’t want me to marry anyone at all. You’ve ruled me all my life, and if you have your way, I’ll stay here and pay your bills and write your letters and be your companion as long as I live.” The thought had only then occurred to Pearl that her father wished to keep her by his side always, and it flickered through her mind that he had foiled every attempt on her part to leave him. Charlie had prevented her from going to college, and he had spoiled things between Pearl and any man he thought she liked, even going so far as to hire detectives to turn up the suitor’s vices.

Charlie ignored the outburst, and said, “Your Mr. Curry is a sharper, a fortune hunter.”

“He’s not,” Pearl said. “He loves me.”

“We’ll see,” Charlie told her. “I’ll get my supper elsewhere.” He stood and left the house.

CHAPTER 11

T
HE NEXT DAYS WERE A
time of great strain in the Bride’s House. Pearl and Mrs. Travers talked about superficial things—how many bushels of tomatoes they should order from the Western Slope to bottle, whether they should take the chance of planting tulip bulbs in hopes the deer wouldn’t eat the flowers in the spring, who to hire to bring firewood. The boy who normally did chores for them had quit, so Pearl took over the job of chopping kindling herself. The hard, rough work appealed to her, quieted her nerves. Since the confrontation with her father, she had been listless and had lost her appetite.

Worried, Mrs. Travers suggested that the young woman unburden herself, saying, “Nealie used to talk to me. She thought me a good friend.”

“I’m glad for it,” Pearl said, making it clear that what had been fine for her mother was not for her.

Pearl continued to assist her father, looking up research, filing company reports, writing the endless letters, but the two talked only when necessary now. Frank Curry’s name was never mentioned. Nor was there the casual banter that had made the working arrangement so pleasurable for each of them. In fact, nothing was said that did not pertain to business.

At dinner, Mrs. Travers chatted about the weather or passed along the gossip she had picked up in town, but when neither Charlie nor Pearl joined the conversation, the older woman fell silent. The three ate their meals quickly, then went their separate ways.

More than a week passed, and Frank Curry had not appeared, when Charlie asked Pearl to step into his study and close the sliding doors to the hall. “Sit down,” he said.

“I prefer to stand,” Pearl told him.

“Please.” The word seemed to cost him a great deal of effort, and Pearl sat stiffly on the edge of the chair, her hands folded in her lap.

“Do you still expect to marry Mr. Curry?”

“Yes.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“I have had a letter, two, in fact. He’s been delayed in New York. He’ll be here before the week is out.”