River Queen Rose Read online

  At last Ben opened his mouth to speak. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” He sat again.

  Rose breathed a sigh of relief as Mason Talbot flashed a congenial smile. “I’m pleased to see you’ve accepted my offer to buy the River Queen. I assure you, it’s a generous one, the least I could do.”

  The solicitor also smiled. Ruffling a pile of papers on his desk, he addressed Talbot. “You brought the check?”

  Talbot patted his right breast pocket. “Just drawn up at Wells Fargo.”

  With a smile of satisfaction, Mr. Field dipped a pen in a bottle of ink and held it out to Rose. “I have some papers for you to sign, Mrs. Peterson. If you’ll step to my desk?”

  She started to rise but couldn’t unbend. It was if she was glued to the chair. Deke’s frank advice rang through her head. If the law says you own the hotel and the farm, then so you do, and those in-laws of yours can go take a flying leap. No! She must get out this chair and sign. Again she tried to rise, but her legs refused to move. Dulcee’s wise words crowded Deke’s. If I had it to do over again…I’d have the courage to speak up, say what I wanted to say, and the consequences be damned.”

  Seconds went by. Get up! There was still time. If she got up this instant, they’d never know she had the least objection, but if she waited any longer…

  Her knees still refused to unbend. Heads began to turn. Coralee, who sat next to her, gave her a nudge. “Mr. Field wants you to sign the papers, dear. You need to go to his desk.”

  Ben bent forward and peered around Coralee. “Get up there, Rose. I want this thing signed and done with.”

  Too late. The time had passed that she could continue her role as the passive, obedient daughter-in-law. By God, I’m not going to do it. She breathed deep and steadied herself. Even though her heart was pounding, she willed her voice not to shake when she spoke. Instead of the stark fear she expected, a flood of relief ran through her. With far more ease than she expected, she stood and addressed the puzzled solicitor who still held the pen in his outstretched hand. “Are the hotel and farm truly mine, Mr. Field?”

  “If you were legally married to Emmet Peterson, they are.”

  “Then I don’t choose to sign.” She turned to Mason Talbot. “I’m sorry you’ve gone to this trouble for nothing, sir, but the property is mine and I’m not selling.” With a firm lift of her chin, she turned to Ben and Coralee. “Until this moment, I planned to go through with it and sign. Now I find I cannot. I hope you understand. It’s just…honestly, why should I? If the property is mine, then so it is. You can rest assured, you’ll always have a home on Emmet’s farm however long you choose to live there. As for the hotel, I don’t want to sell because I want to run it myself. Can you possibly understand?” She braced herself for Ben’s wrath. Like Emmet, he had a temper which mostly he managed to control. She’d witnessed a few occasions when he’d lost it, though. His scalding fury had been so frightening, everyone ran for cover.

  To her surprise, Ben hardly looked at her. With an easy smile, he turned to the solicitor. “You must forgive my daughter-in-law, Mr. Field. She has just lost her husband, so naturally she’s not thinking clearly.” He threw Rose a quick glance loaded with sympathy. “We’d best get her home and put her to bed.”

  “And I’ll get her a nice glass of warm milk.” Coralee stood up and patted Rose on the shoulder. “There, there. It’s going to be all right.”

  Rose was so dumbfounded she couldn’t speak. She’d been prepared for her in-laws’ wrath but not this. “I don’t need a glass of warm milk, and I don’t need to go to bed. I meant what I said.”

  “Well, of course, you do,” said Coralee. “Whatever you say.”

  Go to bed? Warm milk? How outrageous. She had to get out of there. Head held high, she marched from the office of Archer Field, out the front door, and into the teeming traffic on J Street. She started walking, hardly noticing where she was going. She’d been braced for their anger, not their sympathy. How dare they treat her that way? As she continued on, the street became more crowded. She passed a long row of hotels, all with saloons with swinging doors and tinny music pouring through. Men in rough miners’ clothes seemed to be constantly shoving in and out. They seemed a rough lot, smelling of whiskey and tobacco, jostling and shouting curses. A man in a scraggly beard and dirty clothes pointed at her. “Look there! Ain’t she sweet?”

  Dear God, she needed to get out of here. The man came staggering after her. She was about to run when…was someone calling her name? She stopped and turned. Deke was approaching on Sidney. As he rode up to her, he frowned down and asked, “Rose, what are you doing here by yourself? Get on.” He reached out his arm. She hesitated. Surely he didn’t have the strength to pull her up. “Take it,” he commanded. So all right then. If he thought he could do it, who was she to argue? She grasped his hand. In an instant, he swung her up and behind him in one effortless motion. Before she knew it, she was seated with arms around his waist, and Sidney was moving up the street at a brisk pace. “Thanks,” she called.

  “Blimey, girl!”

  Deke said no more until he pulled Sidney to a stop in front of a long wooden building open in the front. “Welcome to the restaurant where all the miners come.” He dismounted and asked, “Need help getting down?”

  “I can manage.” She’d ridden horses all her life and swung off with ease.

  He retrieved his crutches. Soon they were seated at one of the rough-planked tables, cups of coffee in front of them. “We’re lucky it’s not dinnertime,” he said. “This place is a madhouse then.” He cocked his head. “Now tell me, what were you doing on J Street by yourself? Not a good idea, you know, going for a stroll on one of the rowdiest streets in town.”

  “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “Then we won’t,” he replied easily.

  She bit her lip. He’d just rescued her. Besides that, the poor man was crippled. She could at least be polite and give him an honest answer. “Sorry. I’m a bit upset, but it’s not your fault. Do you remember what we talked about? That I own the hotel and the farm?” She told him what had occurred in the solicitor’s office. When she mentioned Mason Talbot, his face clouded.

  “That scum.”

  “You think so? I found him to be quite obliging, and congenial as well.”

  Deke remained silent.

  “Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not that I don’t care, but Mr. Talbot seemed quite apologetic about the duel and what happened.”

  “Mason Talbot apologetic?” Deke got a strange look on his face, as if he wanted to say more, then thought better of it. “Just go on.”

  “Nobody took me seriously. My in-laws thought I needed to drink warm milk and lie down. So now what do I do?”

  “Sounds like you’ve already done it. What do you care if they don’t believe you? You didn’t sign the papers and that’s what counts. Good for you. You own a hotel, and that’s that.”

  She took a moment to ponder. “You’re right. I’m the new owner of the River Queen. It’s just now sinking in.”

  “Have you seen it yet?”

  “Only on the outside. When Ben saw it, he decided it was much too rowdy for delicate females like myself.”

  “You’ve got to see it. I’ll take you.”

  “Of course I want to see it.” She regarded Deke with new eyes. Such a nice man, and not bad looking at all. She liked the way deep dimples appeared in his bronzed cheeks whenever he smiled. So far, the conversation had been all about her, and that wasn’t right. “How are you doing, Deke? Do you know where you’re going yet?” Without thinking, she flicked a glance at the crutches resting beside him. “What can you do?”

  “I won’t be panning for gold anytime soon. There are other ways to make a living, though. I’ve got some ideas.”

  “So you’ll be staying in Sacramento?” He nodded. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad to
hear it.” And she was, surprisingly so. Deke was easy to talk to, besides being helpful. “What are your ideas? Will you tell me one?”

  “Ice.”

  “Ice?” How curious. She wanted to find out more, but a guarded expression had spread over his face, and she’d better not.

  “Let’s leave it at that,” he said.

  She wouldn’t dream of pursuing the subject. “When we get to the River Queen, I’ll say I’m Emmet’s wife and nothing more. I don’t want them to know I plan to run the place until I talk to Mr. Field. I want to make sure whatever needs to be signed is signed, and everything’s legal.”

  “Quite right. Finish your coffee and we’ll go take a look.”

  Chapter 6

  There were two front entrances to the River Queen Hotel & Saloon. A wide-open doorway with swinging doors led to the saloon. Rose chose the smaller door that lay to the right. Inside she found a shabby-looking lobby with mismatched furniture that looked as if it could use a good dusting. No carpet, just a rough wooden floor that looked as if it hadn’t been swept for days. Such negligence would never have occurred at the Birchwood Inn.

  A small man with thinning hair stood behind the counter. “Looking for a room?” he called.

  Deke behind her, Rose walked to the counter. “I’m Mrs. Emmet Peterson, and I came to look around.”

  “Do tell!” The little man scurried around the counter and shook her hand. “I’m Howie Sanders, chief room clerk. So sorry about your husband. What can I do for you? Just name it. Anything. Anything at all.”

  “Nothing, thank you. I’ll not take up your time.” She didn’t care for the little clerk’s fawning attitude and hoped he would just leave her alone.

  Howie pointed to the stairs. “All the rooms are on the second floor.” He pointed toward an archway. “The saloon’s through there, although”—he frowned with concern—“a lady like you might not want—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She turned to Deke. “Shall we?” They walked through the archway into the vast gambling hall where they were met with a huge swell of noise coming from a mixture of men’s boisterous voices, glasses clinking, corks popping, and who knew what else? The room itself was huge, at least ninety by fifty feet with a ceiling at least sixteen feet high. Large gas-lit, brass chandeliers provided plenty of light. Men dressed in miners’ clothes crowded around various games of chance. Deke nodded toward a crowded table. “That’s faro. Over there’s monte and poker. See that wheel? That’s roulette.”

  A mahogany bar ran almost the entire length of one side of the room. Several large paintings hung from the wall above, interspersed between four huge, long mirrors. Rose looked closer. Oh, dear. The paintings all featured women with ample figures in various stages of undress. One was completely nude, reclining with her arm over her head and a come-hither smile on her face. Definitely the indecorous ladies would have to go. The floor was absolutely nauseating. Around the numerous brass spittoons, it was stained with the evidence of the miners’ poor aim. The spittoons would also have to go, along with those paintings.

  The few women she saw were dressed in fancy gowns cut so low much of their cleavage was showing. No decently dressed women in the place, as far as she could see. At least Deke made her feel secure as he followed her around on his crutches. Lots of people knew him. A woman in a red satin gown with too much rouge on her cheeks came over to where they were standing. She reeked of cheap perfume. Slapping Deke on the back, she declared, “Well, if it ain’t the Australian! Haven’t see you in a coon’s age.”

  Deke turned to Rose. “Meet Tillie LaTour. She works here. Tillie, this is Rose Peterson, Emmet’s wife. She’s the new owner of the River Queen.”

  If Tillie was surprised, she didn’t let on. Her brazen expression disappeared as she directed her gaze toward Rose. “Sorry about your husband. If he hadn’t been so hot tempered, he wouldn’t have got himself shot. Are you going to run the place?”

  “I’m not sure.” At the moment, Rose wasn’t sure about anything, she was so startled by the bluntness of this woman.

  Tillie gave her a friendly pat on the arm. “Look, honey, if you need any help, and you probably will, you can find me on the third floor. I’m in charge of the girls up there.” She addressed Deke. “Has she met Jake yet?” When he shook his head, she rolled her eyes. “I’d like to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out his boss is a woman. Good luck, Mrs. Peterson.” She blew Deke a kiss and was gone.

  Rose watched after her, “What does she do here?”

  “She’s a hostess and a dancer, as well as”—his lips twitched with amusement—“she pretty much told you what else she did. Her girls entertain select gentlemen on the third floor. For a price, of course.”

  “I see.” Rose struggled to hide her surprise. According to Emmet’s letters, he was running a perfectly respectable hotel. Never had he mentioned gambling, drinking, prostitution. He’d led his family to believe all guests were in bed and asleep by nine, and nothing stronger than tea was served in the decorous dining room. Mustn’t let Deke think she was so naïve she hadn’t known. He seemed to be well acquainted with Tillie. Was he one of those “selected gentlemen” her girls entertained on the third floor? Somehow she didn’t think so. He’d have a hard time getting up there on crutches, but more than that, he didn’t seem the type of man who’d pay for a woman’s favors. She could be wrong, though. Now, more than ever, she was realizing her experience with men had been limited at best.

  She looked more closely at the long, mahogany bar crowded with men. Something strange occurred to her. Where were the women? Not the painted, gaudily dressed ones, but ordinary women like herself.

  Deke took her arm. “There’s a restaurant. Do you want to see it?”

  “Of course.” They peeked into the one-and-only restaurant. It didn’t look like much with its dirty floor and long, rough plank tables without any tablecloths. She’d be checking on that later. They were leaving the restaurant when a man in his forties with well-oiled, slicked back hair and bright red suspenders walked up to Rose and eyed her boldly. “You’re Emmet’s wife?” When she nodded, he stuck out his hand. “I’m Jake Grunion. Pleased to meet you. I run the joint.”

  She didn’t care for the discourteous tone of his voice, but always polite, she shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Grunion. So you worked for my husband?” Jake nodded. “Then I’m assuming you have an office somewhere.”

  “In the back, but I don’t expect a lady like you to trouble herself. This hotel runs smooth as glass, so you don’t have to worry.”

  His polite words didn’t fool her, especially when she caught the flash of insolence in his eyes. She smiled and in her most pleasant voice replied, “Of course, you’re right, Mr. Grunion, but even so, I might wish to visit your office.” She touched her hand to her heart. “In memory of my dear, departed husband, I want to feel closer to him—see where he worked, meet his friends and employees. Surely you understand.”

  Grunion’s mouth pulled into a thin-lipped smile. “Er…of course. Emmet Peterson’s widow is welcome to visit my office any time.” With a quick bow, he drifted away.

  Deke gave her a nudge. “Dear, departed husband? What was that all about?”

  “You know very well what it’s about. What an awful man.”

  “They don’t come any sleazier than Jake Grunion.”

  “Then why would Emmet hire such a man?”

  Deke shrugged. “He had his reasons. Have you seen enough? Do you want to get out of here?”

  “Let’s go. I need some fresh air.”

  Once outside, they walked to where Deke had secured Sidney. He untied the reins and gave her a quizzical look. “Now that you’ve seen the place, what do you think?”

  Her first visit to the River Queen Hotel & Saloon had been an eye-opening experience. With its raucous noise, indecent portraits, revolting spitto
ons, tobacco-stained floors, and the awful stench of tobacco, beer, and unwashed bodies, it wasn’t at all what she expected. Worst of all was meeting Jake Grunion, so unpleasant she hadn’t had time to think. Now outside, she took a breath of clean air, stepped back, and gazed at her hotel. The tallest building around, its solid brick structure had an air of permanence about it, not like many of the flimsy structures that lined the street. Just reading the large sign across the front, THE RIVER QUEEN HOTEL & CASINO, caused a ripple of pride to run through her.

  “The River Queen is mine and I’m keeping it, Deke. Right now it’s a disgrace. What was my husband thinking? There’s much to be fixed, but I’m full of plans already. Just wait until I get my hands on that restaurant. It’ll take money, but I think Emmet left me some. If not, I’ll get it somehow.”

  Deke broke into a grin. “Good for you. You’re a smart woman, and you made a wise decision. What next? Where do you want to go?”

  “I want to go home, Deke. I need to get back to Lucy. And also”—a flicker of apprehension coursed through her—“I must talk to Ben and Coralee. They think I’ve lost my mind. I must convince them I know what I’m doing.”

  She held Deke’s crutches as he mounted his horse. He was reaching down to grasp her hand when a smart-looking phaeton drawn by two matched white horses drew up beside them. Mason Talbot sat on the high seat, reins in hand. He smiled down at her. “Ah, there you are, Mrs. Peterson. Your mother- and father-in-law were worried after your…shall we say, hasty departure.”

  She drew herself up. “No need for concern, sir. I’m fine.”

  So far, Mason hadn’t acknowledged Deke’s existence or even looked in his direction. Focused entirely on Rose, he inquired, “May I give you a ride?”

  Rose flicked a quick look at Deke. “Thank you, but I have one.”

  Mason appeared not to hear. “I’ve been talking with Mr. Field. He has much to discuss with you. Did you know Emmet had accounts of considerable size at Wells Fargo?” With alacrity, Mason sprang from the carriage and offered his hand. “I’ll tell you more on the way home.”