“And if you need anything”—she tapped on the door—“you know where to find me.”
He smiled. “And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me too.”
“That’s right, I do.”
Sadness flooded her heart again as she collapsed down on the bed, clutching the rose in her hand. If her son had lived, he would have been about Isaac’s age.
Chapter 27
Sacramento City
June 1854
Lobster salad topped the dinner menu, followed by turnip soup, warm dinner rolls, cantaloupe slices garnished with sprigs of mint, and coconut cake for dessert. The Golden Hotel food was better than any Alden had tasted since leaving Scott’s Grove, and breakfast and dinner were both included with the price of a room.
An accomplished pianist entertained them with Mozart’s works as Miss Labrie fluttered around the dining room like an elegant butterfly, welcoming her guests, pouring wine, offering Chilean coffee to accompany dessert.
Gentlemen—including the mayor of Sacramento City—filled the twelve tables, accompanied by several ladies dressed as fashionably as their matron. Isaac was the only child in the restaurant, and the only Negro seated for the meal. The patrons politely ignored him.
Miss Labrie smiled at each guest who came through the door—smiled at Isaac, even—but she never once smiled at him.
Clearly, he’d offended her, but he couldn’t recall what he might have done to deserve her contempt.
“Bonsoir, Monsieur Walsh,” Miss Labrie sang as she welcomed a man standing at the arched entrance. The tables were filled, but she still waved him through the door. “We will find the perfect place for you.”
Moments later, Stephan carried a small table and chair out from the kitchen and set them beside the piano. Miss Labrie covered the table with a white cloth and filled a goblet with wine.
“We’ve missed seeing you,” she said to her new customer, her smile gracious again.
Mr.Walsh smoothed out his mustache with the tip of his finger before taking a sip of the wine. “I decided to return to the goldfields for a season.”
“Did you have any luck?” she asked as Stephan brought the tableware and silver for his place setting.
“I always have luck.” He took another sip. “But I have missed your restaurant very much. There is no decent food to be found in the foothills.”
“I’m glad you’ve returned safely home.”
He set the goblet back on the table. “Has your Mr.Kirtland returned as well?”
Alden saw the flicker of sadness in Miss Labrie’s eyes. Or was it frustration?
Mr.Walsh didn’t seem to notice.
“Why are you staring?” Isaac whispered.
When he looked back at his companion, he missed the answer to Mr.Walsh’s question. “I was observing. Not staring.”
And wondering. Why was a woman so beautiful and intelligent still unmarried in a land filled with wealthy, lonely men? Perhaps it was because she was intelligent. She could keep the profits made from her hotel, no husband threatening to take it from her.
Then again, perhaps she was planning to marry this Mr.Kirtland when he returned.
“Do you think Persila is all right?” Isaac asked.
“I hope so.” Alden took another bite of the creamy coconut cake. He’d been inquiring around the city to see if any of the hotels had registered a Mr.and Mrs.Webb, but he’d yet to find them here.
“I wanted to tell her that I’ve bathed twice now.”
Alden smiled, looking back at Isaac. “She’d be quite pleased to hear that.”
