Chapter 17

17

At four minutes after ten, the front door opened, and Laura's father stepped inside. Laura had dozed off on the settee and jumped up with a start.

"Father, is that you?" she called.

He looked around the corner into the front room. "Good grief, Laura. What are doing up at this hour?"

"I needed to speak to you. I tried to find you earlier, but it didn't work out." She came forward, tightening the sash of her robe. "I must speak to you. It's of the utmost importance."

"All right, but I'm quite exhausted. It's been a very busy and disappointing day, and if this could just wait for morning—"

"No!" She tried to calm her voice, knowing she sounded close to hysterics. "I'm sorry. I know that you're disappointed in not receiving the appointment, but this is something else entirely. Something that isn't going to be pleasant for either of us, but it must be done."

He frowned. Laura could see that he had no idea what she wanted to say. She stepped back. "Please sit down for just a few minutes. It won't take long."

"Very well. I must admit you have my curiosity piqued."

Laura reclaimed her seat on the settee. "I have a couple of very important questions to ask you."

"In regard to what?" Her father sat and stifled a yawn.

"My birthday gift." She waited to see if there might be some response, but when none came, she hurried to continue. "I was wearing the necklace when I stopped by to bring Will some cookies the other night, and he happened to see it. Father ... the necklace belonged to his sister. The one who was killed in January with his mother."

Her father's face remained blank. Why didn't he say something? He didn't even try to deny it.

"I, uh, I know you said you had it made for me. I suppose you said that to make me feel special."

His eyes narrowed slightly as he fixed her with a look, but he remained silent. Laura found his behavior most disturbing. She couldn't figure out why he didn't at least acknowledge that he had lied about having it made for her.

Laura looked away, feeling a bit unnerved at his stern expression. "Will had it engraved for his sister for her birthday last summer. She must have been wearing it when the stagecoach was attacked."

She finally looked back at him. "Father, we need to know where you got it. Who did you buy it from? It's important that we know so that Will can speak to them and find out where they got it."

For several long moments, Laura wasn't at all certain her father would answer her questions. Finally, he stretched and yawned.

"I got it off a man who was just passing through. I don't know his name or where he was headed after he left Cheyenne. He said he'd gotten it in a trade, and since he knew my store sold fancy trinkets to women, he thought maybe I would buy it from him. I felt sorry for him and wanted to help him out. I could see the piece was quality and bought it."

"So you have no idea where we could find this man and question him?"

"What is with the we ? Seems to me this is Mr. Porter's business, not yours."

His comment irritated her. "I took care of Will, and I care about what happens to him now. He was so shocked by the appearance of the necklace. If you had seen him, you would feel equally a part of the search. You should anyway. Will's family was killed and finding the man who sold you the necklace might help us find those responsible."

Her father shook his head and shrugged. "But I don't know who the man was. He was just someone passing through. Had a horse and his gear and not much more. He offered to sell me the necklace and some other things."

"But don't you see, those other things might have also belonged to Will's mother and sister or others from the stage. We must find him." Laura knew she had started to raise her voice, and she drew a deep breath to calm herself. "You should speak to the sheriff and perhaps the commander at Fort Russell."

"I will if it helps to calm you down. Honestly, Laura, I don't know why you're so worked up about this."

His demeanor frustrated her, and Laura couldn't keep quiet. "The entire situation disturbs me. Not only because the necklace belonged to Will's sister and was obviously taken from her during the attack on the stagecoach, but because you lied to me."

She hesitated for only a moment. She hadn't planned to make a big deal about the lie, but now she felt as if she had to in order to make her father see how desperately important the matter was to her.

"You told me you'd had that necklace made for me. That you'd had it engraved with Scripture, knowing I would like it. Instead, I find out it's the property of a dead woman."

He sighed again and got to his feet. "I have been so busy with trying to get the governorship that I didn't have time to buy you a birthday present. I knew the day was coming and had fully intended to do something wonderful, but time got away from me. I am without excuse. I'm a terrible father."

Laura shook her head. "No, you aren't terrible. But I don't want you to think you have to lie to me."

"I knew it was wrong to give you the necklace. I wanted you to have something new, something all your own, but there wasn't time. The necklace was everything I knew you would love, and ... I suppose it was exactly what I would have had made for you had I taken the time to arrange it.

"That's what makes me so terrible. I could just as easily have gone to the jewelry store and had something similar created, but I've been so wrapped up in my desires. Oh, Laura, I am sorry. It was deplorable of me. Can you forgive me?"

Her anger faded. "If you'd just admitted to me that you'd forgotten my birthday, I wouldn't have been upset."

"But you're my everything, Laura. All that I've done, I've done for you. You alone. You're my entire world. After your mother died, I kept driving myself forward, thinking of you. I had to find a way to give you a better life. I had to find a way to make enough money that you would never be denied the medicine you needed or doctor's care you deserved.

"Laura, I must admit, I did things during the war that ... well, let's just say that if realized, would have been considered traitorous to the North. But also to the South. I played both sides against the middle because I hated that we'd gone to war. Despite it being profitable to me, I hated that it sent you even farther from me. Tennessee was right in the middle of everything, though. I couldn't risk something happening to you by having you remain there. And I couldn't send you deeper into the South. I knew things weren't going to bode well for them in the end. They were already struggling for supplies and food. How could I leave you there to endure such things?"

Laura was touched by his words. It broke her heart to think of him having no alternative but to send her away to keep her safe. She went to her father and touched his arm.

"I've always understood, Father. Please don't grieve so. I am no worse for my experiences, and it certainly didn't diminish my love for you." She put her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"I just wanted good things for you, Laura. I wanted to give you all the things I could never give your mother. You will always be so precious to me."

"I know that, and you are precious to me too." Laura rested her face against his chest. "I'm so glad to finally be with you, Father. I just want us to be happy."

"As do I. In fact, I have a surprise for you."

Laura pulled away just enough to look up into his face. "What is it?"

"I started the construction of our new house. The men broke ground two days ago. I wanted to show you the plans for it, but once again my work got in the way. I promise tomorrow at breakfast I'll show you what I have created. I think you're going to love it, and if you have any concerns, we can address those and make changes. I want you to feel that you have a say in it. It will be your home too ... at least until you marry."

Laura didn't know quite what to say. She didn't want to contemplate marriage just now, and she didn't care about a palatial estate.

"The new house sounds quite interesting, but this place serves us well too. I'm in no hurry to move."

"We will have one of the finest houses in all of Cheyenne," her father declared. "Perhaps it shall even be the place to house the governor of the territory. Wouldn't that be something?"

"But President Grant appointed another. I'm sorry he didn't choose you."

Her father released her and shrugged. "I don't expect Campbell to stay long. He isn't from around here."

Laura laughed. "No one is really from around here, with exception to the Indians." That made her think once again of the necklace. She reached for her father's arm. "I know it's late, and we must go to bed, but I want to let you know one more thing. I think it's only right that I return the necklace to Will."

Her father studied her for a moment. His expression seemed one of concern. "Of course. I should have thought of it myself. Please do. And let him know that I will speak to the sheriff as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Father." Laura gave him a kiss on the cheek, then headed for the door. "I'll see you in the morning and look forward to seeing your plans for the new house."

She didn't really care about the plans but knew they were important to her father. She hated that she had managed once again to cause him such pain. But it dawned on her that she had done nothing wrong. She had confronted him about lying to her, and yet he didn't seem to understand nor care.

With each step she took, Laura began to see a pattern in her father's behavior. Whenever he was confronted with something he'd done wrong or asked questions that he didn't want to answer, her father had a way of creating a stir of emotions that caused her to pity him, to feel terrible for what he'd gone through. He always seemed so humbled by the confrontation and willing to admit his failings in the matter. But there was a lack of sincerity that Laura was only now coming to see.

She paused at the top of the stairs and frowned. Was it all just a game to distract her? Was Father still lying?

Granite sought the seclusion of his bedroom before allowing his anger to surface. He immediately went to where he kept the liquor and poured himself a tall glass of whiskey. With one gulp he downed the burning liquid and poured another.

How could he have been so stupid as to have given her the necklace? He knew where it had come from. But when she'd reminded him it was her birthday, the necklace was the only thing close at hand that he could offer to prove he was not only aware of her special day but had planned it out as well. At the time, he'd thought it fortunate that he'd found a small box for the piece. He'd hoped to sell it in Chicago and had been preparing it, along with the other jewelry and watches they'd collected from the stagecoach passengers. He'd known that it would be foolish to sell any of the pieces there in Cheyenne and planned to make arrangements with Gus for the stuff to be moved east.

His hand tensed on the glass. How could he have been so rash. Now there would be no end of questions about how he'd gotten the necklace. No end of questions regarding the supposed drifter from whom he'd purchased it.

Ire rose inside, and Granite couldn't contain his rage. He threw the glass into the fireplace and growled as the flames caught the alcohol on fire. What was he supposed to do now? He'd at least settled Laura. She was so easily calmed. All he had to do was pretend deep sorrow over the pain he'd caused. Then, by taking it one step further and making a scene of how much he'd failed ... well, there wasn't anything Laura wouldn't do for him. She'd even gone along with his idea of arranging suitors.

Granite tore at his necktie and threw it across the room when it finally came loose. He'd been so careful, how could this be happening now? It was bad enough that he would have to deal with Grant's new appointment for the governorship. It offered little comfort that his friends in positions of power told him that his name had been a close second for the position.

Campbell, a bona fide Northerner, had served the Union army faithfully, while Granite could only boast the pretense of peacemaker between the two factions, while making a profit from both. While living in Virginia, close to the capitals, Granite had done his best to ingratiate himself to both sides, claiming that all he wanted was to see the severed nation brought back together. In truth, he couldn't have cared less. He was neither loyal to the South nor to the North. He was loyal to Granite Evans.

John Campbell's claim to fame of late had come in helping Virginia reestablish its political system. One of the casualties of war had been the politics of the South. Everything had to be made over, along with rebuilding businesses and agricultural endeavors. Campbell was apparently talented in this area, and Grant had likely presumed he could establish the political system for Wyoming's new territory.

The man was due to arrive the first part of May, and before then Granite had plans to see the unmarried thirty-three-year-old eliminated. Perhaps Indians could be responsible. Most likely, however, it would need to be some sort of accident, or maybe Granite could arrange a poisoning. That was always unexpected.

He grabbed up another glass and poured a third helping of whiskey. No matter what else happened, he needed to figure out how to handle this situation with the necklace. No doubt Porter would come to him with questions now that he knew Laura had the necklace. Perhaps it would be better still if Granite sent for Will. Yes, that might work well in Granite's favor. In fact, he could get word to the newspaper. Nathan Baker loved a heartwarming story. His "Wide Awake Journal for the People," as he called the Daily Leader , was full of local tales and stirring accounts. Granite would let word leak regarding the necklace, and Nathan would be after the story like a cat to a mouse, proclaiming how a lost memento had been returned to a grieving brother.

"It's all a matter of working the angles." Distracting on one point, focusing attention on another, and throughout the entirety, pulling on the heartstrings.

One way or another, Granite Evans would manage them all. He had worked too hard to see it all fall to pieces now.