“How did you know where I—” but then she stopped and realized. “Maddie,” she said. “I told her I was walkin’ to St. Mark’s.”
“What’s the deal, Goldie?” he said seriously. “We slept together Friday night, but ever since then, I haven’t heard a peep out of you. I came by your hotel on Saturday and dropped off the dress you left at the community center. You weren’t in your room, so I left a note at the front desk to see if you wanted to have dinner Saturday night. You never called.”
“I know,” she conceded.
“I dropped by Sunday morning to see if you wanted to have brunch at the Brown Palace in Denver, but again, you weren’t around. I also got my mom’s dress and returned it to her. Thanks for getting it cleaned, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I totally left you alone on Monday, figuring you probably wanted some space. Now, it’s Tuesday afternoon andstillno word? This isn’t fair. This is: Get-out-of-my-life-Peter-I-never-want-to-see-you-again stuff. I mean, not to sound crude, but ever since you opened your legs for me, you’ve totally closed me out of your life.”
“Thatdoessound crude,” she agreed.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve been standing out here waiting for you, thinking about what I might say and liked the word play of it; opened, closed—doesn’t matter… I haven’tdoneanything to you that you didn’t agree to. All I’m guilty of is liking you.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah—I know… and I’ve never lied to you. I like you, too. But?—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “There are complications. I have a theory about that. Want to hear it?”
“Peter—”
“I don’t think you want to get back with your former boyfriend. I don’t even think the distance thing between us bothers you.Ithink you’re a smart journalist who maybe unintentionally uncovered something that doesn’t have anything to do with your story but involves my ol’ man. And if we’re a thing, then that creates a conflict.”
Her green eyes widened as her mouth slowly fell open.
“Is that it?” he said, noticing her reaction. “Jesus! I was guessing. You mean—that’s it!”
“W-we need to go somewhere and talk,” she decided.
“Okay, let’s go to my office.”
“Not your office. Or my hotel. Or your house. Somewhere neutral.”
“Are we suddenly at war?” he asked, surprised. “We need a Switzerland?”
“Please, Peter.”
He looked behind her at St. Mark’s. “Okay. How ‘bout the church?”
She turned and looked at it. “Yeah… if Father will leave us undisturbed for a few minutes. Why don’t you go ask him? He’s down in the basement working on a spread of photos for my article. There’s a hallway to the right of the altar that’ll lead downstairs. He’s got a selection of photos spread out that he’s taken for the article. You should go see ‘em. They’re wonderful. You should also arrange to get him the negatives of the photos you took when we got the community tree. That way, I’ve got one keeper of all the photos for the article.”
She glanced around at the day.
“I’ll wait out here while you talk to him. I want your honest opinion of the best photos and don’t want to influence you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Be right back.”
After Peter reviewed the photos, Father said he had some errands to run and agreed to let him and Goldie speak in the church. So, they took off their coats and talked for about twenty minutes. Knowing she was risking any type of future relationship they might have, Goldie decided to take a leap of faith and tell him her suspicions about his father, Bucky Eggleston, Maynard “22,” Jason Shirk, and the likely millions Charles was going to make. But she left out the part about Father Fitzsimmons going with her to the mine for the sake of his reputation. All in all, Peter absorbed the information about his dad potentially being a land swindler and murderer better than she expected. He didn’t get indignant, argumentative, or vehemently deny her allegations. He mostly just sat in a pew and listened with folded arms and eyes that seemed to occasionally fight back a tear.
After Goldie was all talked out, she waited for several seconds for a quiet Peter to respond. He stood, slipped his hands into his pockets, and looked at the large crucifix hanging over the altar.
“We’re not Catholic,” he finally said. “In fact, we’re not much of anything.” He turned and looked at her. “I don’t want to believe a damn thing you’re saying… but… what you’ve saiddoesfill in some gaps I’ve long wondered about. My father actually came from money… my grandfather made some good deals in Denver real estate. He’s taken that money, plus his own savings, and sunk most everything he has into buying a string of houses on the same side of the same street. Believe me, he’s not that concerned about helping destitute widows or anyone else in a slack economy. I couldn’t understand why he was being so generous. It also fills in possibilities about Tully and Crosby. I honestly don’t know what they do for him, although as I’ve said before, Tully worked in town for a while.”
“So—you believe me?” she asked a little timidly.
“I-I don’tnotbelieve you… I also now understand your hesitancy about a relationship with me.”
“I didn’t want this, Peter. I didn’t wantanyof this! I didn’t even want or intend to come to Sparkledove.”
