Page 91 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
He couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or cheeky. She turned her face up to admire the bright glaciers hanging in their valleys.
The resemblance of her profile to Marigold’s was so strong, a slashing sensation scored into his chest.
“Marigold’s letters spoke highly of you and your company,” she continued. “I’m looking forward to meeting everyone, especially your children.”
“They’re still missing their mother.” Now he would have to explain Harley to her and explain her to them. His heart sank. “Bringing you home instead of Marigold will be difficult.” Nettie would disown him. He couldn’t blame her for it, either.
“I tried to persuade Marigold to come with us. She said we need a chance to get to know one another without her there.” Her tone was flat and pensive before it lifted to something more optimistic. “But I’ll assure the children that she’ll be back with us in no time. We could manage that, couldn’t we? I understood Marigold to have her own room, so once…” She cut herself off and blushed, pretty with it, especially when she dropped her long, thick lashes.
He looked to where the mules were heading while his brain tried to imagine sleeping next to this woman while Marigold was in the room beside theirs. Ever. It wouldn’t conjure.
“I’m not likely to run for marshal. You should know that.”
“Oh? I’m sure you’d make a fine one, but it sounds like a dangerous occupation, so that’s probably for the best.”
She wasn’t disappointed?
“Are you a suffragist like Marigold?” he asked.
“I’d certainly like the vote, but watching Marigold and our uncle put themselves through wringers over politics has always been agonizing. They scold me for not being as supportive as I could be, but I hate watching them get hurt. There’s no avoiding it in those sorts of blood sports. It was the same with Marigold’s divorce—”
She cut herself off, glancing guiltily at him.
“I won’t gossip about her, but I was glad when she found this situation as your housekeeper and governess. She’s said many times that she didn’t want to marry again. That’s why it was a shock when you said she had accepted your proposal.”
Whyhadshe accepted it? His children? Embarrassment after he seduced her at the pool? He brooded on that for the rest of their journey.
He was glad he wasn’t pulling a big, loaded cart with the oxen, the way he had with Marigold. They would have had to stop overnight. The weather held and the moon came up big and bright, so he could see to push on the last few miles. They reached Quail’s Creek under a sea of stars so thick, they streaked the sky like milk.
As Virgil drew the cart right up to the cabin, everyone poured out, children included. But their cheer of welcome abruptly ceased. Their faces blanked with confusion as they saw that Pearl, not Marigold, was with him.
“Marriage really does change a person,” Owen said.
“You must be Owen.” Pearl stepped down from the cart and held out her hand to him. “I’m Pearl Martin, Marigold’s sister.”
“Ohhh,” Emmett and Ira said under their breath.
“Emmett? It’s good to meet you. And you must be Stoney. Ira? Hello. And you’re Tom?”
“Levi, ma’am. Tom’s minding the office.” Like everyone else, Levi was looking between her and Virgil with confusion.
“But you’re not the size of a boy. I thought you must be one of the men.” Pearl’s smile told Levi she was teasing him.
He smiled with flattered humor and ducked his head.
“Hello, Nettie! Goodness, Marigold has told me what a good friend you’ve been to her. She stayed in Denver for a few days, but I hope you’ll be my guiding light here, the way you have been for her. And here’s Harley. Well, you are a button, aren’t you? Will you come see me?”
Harley went straight from Ira into her arms. No one asked Virgil for lemon drops. They all stared in awe at Pearl.
That ought to have made Virgil happy or relieved or something, but it left him feeling hollow and terrible.
“What…?” Emmett scratched under his chin.
“This is what Marigold wanted,” he muttered, not in a mood to explain how things had gone so far off track he didn’t know where he was. “Help me with Pearl’s things.”
That’s when he realized Marigold hadn’t even taken her bedroll. She had likely left it on purpose for her sister, but now she would be sleeping on a cold, dirt floor in Denver. Damn it.
At least he’d left her with some money. He’d been furious when he had walked away and probably not kind about it, but he hadn’t been able to leave her as destitute as she’d been the day they’d met.
