Once he was out of earshot, Cora turned to her father.
“I wish you wouldn’t have invited him to lunch. I really have no interest in sharing a meal with him, Pa. Or marrying him, for that matter.” Cora crossed her arms across her chest, and her father firmly put his hand on the scruff of her neck and steered her away from the crowd.
“Watch your tone in public, young lady,” he scolded. “Do you really want people to hear you talking that way about the wealthiest man in town?”
“I don’t care if they hear,” Cora insisted, although she lowered her voice in compliance. They were walking toward their own wagon now, the dissipating crowd of churchgoers far behind them. “I do not feel comfortable around Alfred. He gave me all kinds of bad feelings, Pa.”
“Nonsense. You haven’t even given him a chance. Why don’t the three of us all enjoy a nice meal together, and I bet you will find that the two of you have plenty in common.”
“That is not likely,” Cora mumbled under her breath. If her father heard her, he pretended not to, and they rode the rest of the way home in silence.
Cora prepared a quick meal of boiled chicken and potatoes along with a simple green salad. As she worked, she found her mind wandering to Roy, and she couldn’t help comparing him to Alfred.
When she first encountered Roy, he came across as hardened and emotionally distant, but nevertheless did not give her the same sick, uneasy feeling that came from Alfred’s type of coolness. Perhaps it was because she trusted Pastor Burns when he told her that his son was good, but now she realized that Roy’s demeanor was the result of the personal trauma of battling inner demons combined with years of loneliness. Beneath that initial, hard exterior, she had learned that his heart was kind and pure. She remembered the way he tenderly nursed her ankle and the way he sat beside her as she cried, offering her the silent comfort of his presence.
Alternatively, the coldness in Alfred’s eyes seemed to come from another place entirely, born of arrogance and an inflated sense of self-worth. He believed he had earned the right to her hand in marriage simply because he had money to offer, and to Cora’s surprise, her otherwise rational father had fallen for his counterfeit charm.
Cora was not a commodity that could be purchased.
She had just finished grudgingly setting the table when a knock sounded at the door. She did not rush to answer it, stalling by meticulously straightening the silverware as her father opened the door.
“Please come in, Alfred,” her father ushered him in, pulling out the chair for him. “Please excuse our humble abode, I know our home is not quite like what you are used to but, well, we are comfortable and do our best.”
Cora frowned at her father’s ramblings about the size of their house. He had never been bothered by their modest home before, and she didn’t like that the presence of a rich man was affecting him in this way.
Cora silently served the men their meals, beginning with Alfred as he was the guest. While her father thanked her when she spooned the food onto his plate, she couldn’t help noticing that Alfred did not. Instead, he focused his attention solely on her father, as if Cora were merely the help.
“So, Sheriff, what are your thoughts on the new railroad that is supposed to run alongside Lakewood? Do you think it will cause a surge in local crime?”
Her father leaned back in his chair, chewing his food and contemplating the question.
“It’s most certainly a worry of mine,” he admitted. “On the one hand, it will help our local economy, but I do fear that it will attract individuals with less-than-honorable intentions.”
“Vagabonds and miscreants, you mean,” Alfred said with a smirk. “You don’t have to mince your words around me, Sheriff.”
Cora ate in silence. Even if she did have an interest in the conversation, she remained uninvited as Alfred ignored her, conversing only with her father, as if a lady would not have anything valuable to add to such an important discussion.
“Speaking of miscreants,” Alfred continued. “Did you hear that Roy Burns is back in Lakewood?”
Cora perked up at the mention of Roy. She made brief eye contact with her father, who gave the slightest shake of his head, a silent message not to mention her unauthorized excursion to visit Roy in Wheats Ridge.
“I did hear something of that nature,” her father said. “From what I understand, Pastor Burns left everything to his son, and now he’s here to get his affairs in order.”
“What a waste of an inheritance,” Alfred said smugly, shaking his head. “Well, I hope you don’t run into any trouble with him while he’s here.”
Cora’s ears burned and her nostrils flared at Alfred’s disparaging against Roy. She moved her hair over her ears and stared down at her plate, pretending to concentrate on her meal so the men wouldn’t notice her emotional response.
The lunch seemed to drag on forever. After Cora cleared the lunch plates, she served coffee and a slice of cake. Alfred continued rattling on in a haughty manner about all local and national affairs, from the prospect of gold in California to his strong opinions against Governor McCook, who had recently addressed the territorial legislature in support of women’s suffrage. It seemed that Alfred Mills had an opinion on everything, and he liked hearing himself speak more than anything else.
Finally, Alfred stood up from his seat, announcing that he needed to get back to his ranch. He shook hands with her father before turning to Cora, who had stepped out of earshot to give the two some modest privacy.
“I very much enjoyed getting to know you this afternoon,” he said, and Cora found this statement disingenuous considering he had said no more than ten words to her the entire meal. “And I am very excited to make you my wife.”
Cora gave a smile that she was sure came out looking more like a grimace.
“Thank you for having lunch with us, Mr. Mills,” Cora replied politely, refusing to directly acknowledge his reference to marriage. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
Cora quickly closed the door behind him and then leaned her back against it, letting out a long breath, relieved that the torturous meal was over.
