Granite Evans settled into the leather chair behind his desk and considered the young woman upstairs. His daughter. His only child. He’d hardly seen her in the last ten years, and now she would be his constant companion. Could he still manage to accomplish all that he had planned with her under his roof?
All of Cheyenne’s society would adore her. The men would line up to court her. He could probably arrange a lucrative betrothal. It was something he hadn’t given much thought to, but now that she was here, he could see she was a valuable prize. There weren’t that many women in Cheyenne, and certainly none as beautiful as Laura. She favored her mother more than he liked to admit.
When he’d first seen her in the depot, she had startled him. For just a moment, he thought Meredith had returned in all her youth and beauty. Cinnamon-red hair framing a lovely oval face. Dark brown eyes and full lips. Laura was the spitting image of her deceased mother.
Then again, Laura had always reminded him of her mother. It was the reason he had sent her away. He couldn’t bear the constant reminder of what he had lost. Meredith had been his entire world. He had been nothing of value prior to meeting her. She had transformed him with her love, and her death had forever changed him. Even now, remembering her and what she went through stirred undiluted anger, as though he’d lost her only yesterday.
Granite would never forget the attitude of the doctors andhospital staff when he’d sought help for Meredith. With no money to pay up front for the needed treatment, they had been given nothing more than the smallest bit of attention and then sent on their way. Knowing his wife’s faith, he had gone to the church, as well, but found them equally callous.
With nothing left to do, he had contacted her well-to-do parents in Birmingham. Meredith had defied them and run away to marry Granite. They denounced her as their child and refused to even listen when he begged for help. They told him she’d be better off dead than married to a low-life gambler. Rejections from the doctors, church, and family had left Granite hard and angry, and when his beloved wife died, he vowed to make a success of himself in such a way that he could get back at those who had denied her help.
Her parents died before he could do anything to them, and their wealth passed on to a distant cousin. But then the war had come, and opportunities arose on every side. Granite had never been afraid to step over the line where laws were concerned. As the South’s needs grew, he found ways to accommodate, using the persona of an Irishman named Marcus O’Brien, while Granite Evans kept his hands and name clean. Eventually, Granite had a team of men working for him. They smuggled goods, robbed warehouses and shipments of supplies, and did whatever it took to put money in their pockets.
Granite didn’t care about the outcome of the war. He wasn’t a patriot in any sense of the word. Let there be slaves or none. Let the states be in control or not. The only things he cared about were himself, Laura, and getting back at the people who had failed him.
Already he’d had some of his revenge on the hospital back in Alabama. After the war, he had pledged to give them an endowment and help rebuild and expand their facilities.There had been a front-page photograph showing Granite with the smug-faced hospital board members to announce his decision. He felt a great sense of satisfaction in knowing they were confident of good things to come. But that satisfaction could not equal the feeling of accomplishment that came when he denied them the gift based on trumped-up charges. His accomplices had been able to create quite an ordeal for the board with declarations of moral lacking and scandals too great to mention in mixed company.
It had satisfied Granite’s sense of revenge—to a point. They had no idea of the real crime he held against them. But he had no intention of reminding anyone of where he’d come from. Instead, Granite let them think what they would and suffer his decision as the reputation of their hospital was lessened in the public eye.
A dull thump sounded from upstairs, catching Granite’s attention and reminding him that he was no longer alone. Having Laura here would create complications. Hopefully she’d be cooperative and easy to manage.
He poured himself a drink, then went to the window. Winter wasn’t his favorite time of year. The weather was unpredictable—even deadly. Sandwiched between vast prairies and the Rocky Mountains, Cheyenne was at the mercy of a variety of elements. The wind in particular could be most annoying. Throughout the year, winds often caused a great deal of misery, but when combined with snow, the town could find itself seeking shelter for days.
For tonight, though, the winds were calm, and the weather at peace. Granite walked to the fireplace and finished his drink. He would meet with some of the business leaders tomorrow and put forth his proposals for town improvements to benefit as many as possible. He knew if he could convincethe others that his concepts were beneficial not only to him but also to them, they would go along with his ideas and remember Evans when it came time to vote in future elections. His popularity would also be sure to reach the ear of the president, who was charged with choosing a governor for the new Wyoming Territory. Thankfully, President Johnson had never gotten the job done, and the November election had given the office to Ulysses S. Grant. Grant was a man who was indebted to Granite. They’d met on many occasions during the war when Granite had shared information with Grant and produced supplies for the North. Of course, he’d provided them for the South as well, but Grant didn’t know that.
With the money he made through underhanded means, Granite had been able to create a credible way of making money. Investing in the railroads had been a sure thing, especially after the war. The country was desperate for ways to unite once again. And of course, there was his idea for a large emporium. It was the perfect solution for moving products purchased both legally and otherwise. He’d started small at first, then increased in size—always selling at a large profit when he sold and moved to another location. Lady Luck was clearly his companion, and when he reached Cheyenne, the stage was set for the Cheyenne Ladies’ Department Store—a grand and glorious emporium with multiple departments, focusing on all that any woman could ever desire in fashion, home management, and entertaining. He’d even put in a seasonal department just for Christmas decorations and gifts. That had proven quite popular.
Granite deposited his glass on the table, then headed to bed. He was quite satisfied with how he’d overcome the obstacles in his life, but now a new element had entered in.Laura had come back into his daily life. At first he’d been rather alarmed when she’d written to say she’d completed her studies. But the more he thought of her being in Cheyenne, the more benefits he could envision. Tomorrow, he’d start to figure out what role Laura would play in his schemes.
2
Seeing the house’s lack of Christmas decorations, Laura brought the matter to her father’s attention first thing. To her delight, he had arranged for a Christmas tree to be brought in two days before the holiday. He then ordered all sorts of ornaments from his store and had them delivered as well. Laura and Mrs. Duffy had a wonderful time decorating the tree and arranging the house.
A blizzard struck the day before Christmas, burying the town in more snow. Laura had never experienced anything quite like it. On Christmas morning, the wind was still howling, and it seemed impossible to keep the house warm. Mrs. Duffy had awakened her with a cup of hot chocolate and helped her dress in a heavy quilted skirt and her warmest long-sleeved blouse and red velvet jacket. Laura even put on two pairs of woolen stockings, and still she was cold.
“When the wind blows like this, it makes all of the houses colder. Even the well-made ones,” Mrs. Duffy told her. “When I left this morning, my boys were huddled up around the fireplace, and I’ll bet they’ll be there all day.”
“I’m so sorry you have to spend Christmas here with us,” Laura said as Mrs. Duffy secured her hair in a simple bun.
“It’s not a problem. You’re bound to need someone to help. I do get to leave just after Christmas dinner. And your father was very generous with extra pay for the day.”
“I’m glad for at least that much.”
Laura finished drinking her hot chocolate. She couldn’t help being excited despite the cold. “I’ve so looked forward to this day. I haven’t spent a Christmas with my father since I was a little girl. Mama died just a little less than a month before Christmas when I was twelve. We didn’t celebrate that year, nor was I home to celebrate with Father all the years afterward. This is the first time we’ll be together.”
“How terrible for you to be alone all that time, Miss. Christmas is meant to be for family.”
“I agree, but my father was never up to the challenge. I’m glad he feels he can celebrate now. I’ve prayed for this and waited so long. We’re finally a family again.”
“Well, you should get downstairs. I’m sure your father is waiting for you in the front room.”
Laura hurried to the door. “I hope he’s got the fire burning bright. I’m already chilled to the bone.”
Thankfully, there was a large fire burning, and Father waited patiently at the mantel, no doubt keeping warm.
“Ah, there you are. Good Christmas Day to you.”
“Merry Christmas, Father.” Laura engulfed him in a hug. “I’m so happy I could cry. This is already the best Christmas I’ve had in years. Just having a home again and being with you is more than I could have asked for.”
