“And no slaves,” Stella said. “At least that’s what Robert said.”
“Now, Stella—” Mrs.Bradford started, but his mother’s curiosity had already been piqued.
“You’ve seen Mr.Kelly?”
Stella blushed. “I suppose I have.”
“We all visited him,” Mrs.Bradford explained. “As a family.”
As the others talked about California, an idea began to sprout in Alden’s mind. He’d been offered an apprenticeship with Judah Fallow, an attorney who’d left Boston for San Francisco more than a year ago. But what if he didn’t go alone? What if Benjamin went with him? If there really were no slaves in California, they could partner together as free men.
Stella elbowed him. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m just thinking.”
She smiled at him, the pink in her cheeks glowing in the candlelight. “About the future?”
His mother smiled as she took another bite of veal. “One more season and then Alden will be home for good.”
Chapter 5
Sacramento City
December 1853
Isabelle rinsed her face in the basin of cold water and slathered her face and arms with a milky cucumber-and-lemon cream. Then she climbed between the clean sheets of a bed located on the hotel’s third floor.
She’d given Fanny the two rooms she’d been occupying next to the dining room—they reminded her too much of Ross to stay there anyway. The feather mattress should help the woman’s rocking world settle, though the truth of what Ross had done might set it churning again.
The people of Sacramento were too preoccupied to celebrate Christmas Eve, but back in Baltimore, she and Aunt Emeline would have strewn an evergreen tree with popcorn and bows. Then Uncle William would read from the old family Bible about the journey of a woman who’d birthed a remarkable baby in her youth.
A baby who ended up saving the world.
Fanny didn’t seem to realize it was Christmas Eve. Or perhaps she didn’t care. After her long journey, all Fanny wanted was to bathe, eat, sleep—and find her husband.
Isabelle couldn’t begin to comprehend what would happen when Ross did return.
His face flashed into her mind, his dark-blond hair parted neatly in the middle, the beard he trimmed faithfully even when most men in California no longer bothered with the cost or hassle of doing so. She’d stopped trusting men a long time ago, but he had won her trust with his confidence and because of his compassion toward her aunt.
She’d thought she had found a man who would be faithful to her, a man she could trust, but it was all a façade. A California mirage. He hadn’t left behind a sister in New York or a fine hotel. According to Fanny, he’d never owned or even managed any other sort of establishment. Fanny’s father had hired Ross to work on his stud farm, though he hadn’t worked there long. Ross and Fanny were married six months after he came to their farm, long enough to earn the rest of the money he needed to travel west.
He had been as unqualified as she and Aunt Emeline when it came to hotel management. Perhaps even more so. At least Uncle William and Aunt Emeline had operated the mercantile in Baltimore. Her aunt had kept the accounts for that business and helped Uncle William purchase supplies for their shop, especially items for their female clientele. Then she’d taught Isabelle how to operate the business in the hours after school.
Isabelle had trusted Ross when he’d said he loved her. That he wanted to spend his life with her. But all along, he’d been hiding the fact that he was already married.
Her hand brushed over her right shoulder; then she tucked it back under the covers. She had secrets of her own—no one except Emeline knew about her past, and even her aunt didn’t know the entire story. She’d intended to tell Ross everything before she married him and let him decide if he wanted to proceed.
Even if California was a sanctuary, a place for people to hide from their pasts, it wasn’t right to keep secrets from the man—or woman—you intended to marry. Especially if your secret was that you happened to already have a wife!
How could she have been so wrong about Ross?
As she lay on the guest bed, the mattress stuffed with dried grass, she felt no ill will toward Fanny—it wasn’t her fault that Ross had played them both for fools. She should have questioned the many letters from his sister, his relentless pursuit of wealth when she wanted security through the steady business of their hotel, his lack of communication from the diggings even after he’d asked her to become his wife.
She had no intention of telling Fanny the complete truth about her and Ross’s relationship. First of all, she was mortified that she had considered marrying another woman’s husband. And second, she wasn’t certain how Fanny would react when she found out what Ross had done.
Better to wait until Ross returned. He’d caused this mess—he should be honest about his deception.
She clasped her hands together, holding them against her chest. Was her heart forever scarred from loving a man? Perhaps she would never be able to marry.
