“This isn’t some southern town. These people expect extravagance at all events.” He’d known men who spoke tales of the war, and he had seen the wounded cast out into the streets with the other less desirables who’d been maimed or forgotten. That wasn’t his issue, though. He’d pulled himself up off the streets. Certainly others could. “Happiness is a luxury. If you want to concentrate on the frivolous, then perhaps you should look for other suitors.”
She continued to study the city, her eyes wide and her full lips parted. “Perhaps.”
He cleared his throat, demanding her attention, but she didn’t give it.
“The buildings and the houses are as large as my home before the war, some even bigger. Did all these people strike gold?”
“No.” He removed his pocket watch again. “Only a few from the early years still remain. Most of the wealth you see is from hard work and savvy business. I myself own and operate one of the largest import and export businesses in San Francisco, not to mention my investments in the railroad and other great ventures.”
He waited for her to fall at his feet and beg for him to marry her, but she only kept looking at that blasted world outside. The carriage turned and angled up the hill, sending her forward into his lap. Her warmth chased the dull ache from his cold bones. His hands caught her at her narrow waist, but her head landed on his shoulder. His body heated to a southern summer heat.
Women provided relief when he required it but never evoked a response from his heart. His pulse had never hammered in his throat from physical contact.
“My apologies.” She pulled from his embrace quickly, too quickly. Did she not feel the safety he offered her in that moment? Did she not appreciate his attention?
He forced the betraying thoughts from his mind. “The best homes are on the hills. Mine overlooks the city and the bay,” he said with pride, sure to impress her.
Cora straightened her bonnet and settled into her seat. “Are there gardens? I miss the fresh air and the smell of magnolias from home.”
“There are no magnolias here.” The disappointment in her eyes dug at him. “There are gardens and squares in the city not too far from here.”
“Perhaps you can show them to me.”
He straightened his jacket and pulled out his pocket watch. “I don’t have time for frivolous outings. I’m due to meet with an important politician in a few minutes. I’ll have Ghost settle you upstairs, where you can rest while I attend to business.”
“I’m not tired. How can I help?” Cora asked with such sincerity he had to force himself not to laugh at the woman. How could she help pull his business out of the depths of ruin? “You can help by remaining out of sight while he’s here.”
She ran a hand down the bodice of her dress, drawing his attention to her curves. “I understand. I’m afraid I had no funds to purchase a proper dress after our home burned, my parents died, and my fiancé and brother were murdered. I made this dress from scraps of other dresses, curtains, and linens.”
Her admission struck him like a hot iron to his gut. He studied the fine frock, guilt at his insult making him uneasy. “You did well. I’ve never seen a woman make so much from so little.”
“It’s what my sisters say I excel at. I made all their dresses before they left for their own mail-order proposals. Even made a wedding dress for one of my sisters.” She smiled with such pride at her accomplishments.
That’s what he needed to do, make something out of nothing. The distraction of this woman was the last thing he needed, especially with that hair. A flaming reminder of the past he’d worked so hard to forget. She was a walking reminder of his failings to save his own family.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Ghost appeared at the door. Ed climbed out then offered his hand to Cora. Her dainty fingers rested in his palm. Despite their gloves, he felt the heat of her.
A carriage rolled up behind them and out stepped Mr. Miller. Ed’s pulse tap, tap, tapped. He looked to Ghost to usher Cora from sight before she thwarted his one chance at securing his funds from the man approaching. “This must be your new bride. My wife told me she’d be arriving today. I told her it couldn’t be so, since you planned a meeting, but here I see she’s correct.”
Cora slipped from him and brazenly marched up to Mr. Miller, offering her hand. “I don’t mind. Please, you’re welcome to come in.” She gestured toward the house but didn’t even bother to awe over the grandeur of the tall hillside structure with a ballroom and servants’ quarters, and rooms—so many rooms.
Mr. Miller offered his arm, and she took it, leading him over the wooden walkway to the gate. What gave her the right to show Mr. Miller inside?
“What a beauty you are. You did well, Ed.” He spoke to Ed, but his attention remained fixed on Cora. “I had my doubts about this mail-order bridal business, but I stand corrected.”
Ghost stood with hat in hands, bowing his head as they passed. Ed wanted to bop him one for not helping expedite Cora out of sight. The woman was too noticeable to be hidden away for long, though.
Ed needed to explain the situation before things churned into a heaping slush of mistakes. He rushed into the entranceway and found her already entertaining Mr. Miller in the parlor. Her bonnet off and her hair fully exposed.
Mr. Miller removed his hat and gloves and set them on the side table. “You don’t say. I knew a McKinnie when I was back east from a plantation. A forward-thinking man who’d begun to change his ways before Lincoln even came to office.”
Cora gestured for Mr. Miller to sit on the couch, and she joined him at his side in a too-familiar way, leaving Ed to take the chair across from them. “That was my pa.”
“I even attended a ball I’ll never forget at the home in Marietta. I was a young man then, but my father brought me along to learn more about the business. I remember four little girls dancing and giggling in the shadows.”
Cora’s joyous smile intoxicated him. “That would be me and my sisters, Abigail, Dinah, and Elizabeth.”
“I should’ve known that was you. That hair hasn’t dulled a bit since you were young.”
