“Why not now?”
“Because I want to be dressed for the occasion and in the right mood.”
This time he looked at her like she’d grown antlers out of her head.
She supposed she was being a bit dramatic about it. Butshe loved drama, and the anticipation of meeting up with Bellamy secretly tomorrow for a romantic hug would certainly inspire her writing.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow to discover Deirdre’s match.”
“Zach Meier.”
Bellamy’s forehead furrowed, and she could see him trying to place the name.
“The Meiers own the breweries—”
“Aye, I am just a wee bit familiar with the Meiers.”
Of course he would be, since they likely provided much of the beer sold at Oscar’s Pub. “Deirdre met Zach last summer when a group of us went to the horse races together. He was sitting near us and introduced himself to her. I could tell right away they were meant for each other.”
“Could you now?” Bellamy’s tone held a slight note of sarcasm.
“You’re not the only one who has a gift for finding true love. I happen to have an excellent instinct too.”
Bellamy was silent several heartbeats, as though trying to decide whether to believe her. “Zach Meier’s family is German and Protestant.” He spoke with a finality that said the matter was settled.
“They fell in love with each other.” She picked up her manuscript and pen in one hand and her stockings and shoes in the other. Then she started toward the path that led back to Oakland. “Love doesn’t respect boundaries based on a country of origin or a way of worshiping. True love pushes past all that, Bellamy. And you know I’m right.”
She waited for him to argue with her. But he didn’t say anything. When she glanced over her shoulder a moment later, he was striding to his horse.
4
Bellamy pushed his horse faster, urgency driving him. From the galloping close behind, he knew Zach Meier and Mr. Meier were still following him.
They were almost to the levee, and Bellamy prayed they weren’t too late, that Senator Whitcomb hadn’t left with his family yet. While Bellamy had been at Dover’s Pond with Zaira, the senator had sent word to the pub that he was taking his family out of the city to a place safe from the crowds and cholera. The Whitcombs were leaving midafternoon on a steamer heading north to Iowa, where apparently Mrs. Whitcomb’s sister lived.
The senator had thanked Bellamy for his efforts but had indicated that he wasn’t waiting any longer. Even though Bellamy still technically had the rest of the day to arrange a match, the senator had given up on him and now probably hoped to delay dealing with Senator Snyder’s proposition by hiding his family away.
Bellamy didn’t blame the fellow. The possibility of finding a match for Deirdre hadn’t looked too promising, not afterall her rejections that week. But after speaking with Zach Meier, Bellamy conceded that Zaira had been right about the pair. He could see that the sharp-thinking man was exactly what the indecisive Deirdre needed. Zach was also good and kindhearted, even if he was German and Protestant. Maybe Zaira was also right about those things not mattering so much when it came to love.
Bellamy hadn’t told Zach or his father why he needed them both to come with him to the levee. Instead he’d insinuated that it had to do with a shipment of malt that the newly formed Public Health Department was considering confiscating because of the speculation that malt was one of the contributors to cholera.
The Meiers intended to get to the malt first, since they didn’t believe it had anything to do with the cholera. Bellamy didn’t think it did either. But the consumption of malt was one of many theories floating around about the cause of the deadly disease. In the desperate quest to bring the epidemic to a halt, people were willing to try just about anything, especially because each day the disease seemed to run more rampantly.
As Bellamy veered his horse onto Front Street, the levee spread out before them bordered by the long row of warehouses in the process of being rebuilt after the recent city fire. The drays pulled by mules and horses milled about among the stacks of merchandise, bales of hemp, hogsheads of tobacco, and the many other goods brought to St. Louis every day.
The waterfront wasn’t as busy as usual—fewer dockhands, businessmen, and passengers. There were fewer steamboats too. Even so, dozens of them still lined the shore of the MississippiRiver, their tall smokestacks coughing out cinders and black coal smoke.
It hadn’t taken much investigating for Bellamy to discover which steamboat the Whitcombs were traveling on. It usually wasn’t hard to get information. The people coming and going from the pub provided a wealth of it, or at the very least offered a name or place where he could seek out what he needed.
Now he scanned the smaller packets for the namePrairie Princess. He found it almost right away. Thankfully, the passengers hadn’t yet boarded and were waiting near the gangplank while their luggage was being loaded.
He headed directly toward the steamboat and could hear Zach and Mr. Meier on his trail.
Bellamy spotted the senator in a top hat and fine white suit, his long sideburns and slick mustache giving him a distinguished air. Beside him his wife stood underneath a parasol, her yellow-and-white lacy gown the latest fashion. Deirdre was chattering with one of her younger sisters, and they, too, held parasols and wore bright summery gowns.
Deirdre wasn’t necessarily a pretty girl, especially compared to a stunning beauty like Zaira Shanahan. But she was lovely in her own way. Bellamy needed to get a view of her face when she first glimpsed Zach. Then he would know for certain if the match was meant to be. The eyes were almost always windows into a soul, and expressions often spoke louder than words.
As he reined in near the Whitcomb family, he positioned his horse so he could see both Deirdre and Zach.
