Winnie nodded toward them before she headed to Molly’s door. Herb Govenor scowled, then skirted the crumbling foundation, looking out of place in his top hat and immaculate city clothing.
“What do you want?” Sam growled.
Govenor bowed to Angie, then glanced at Sam’s bandaged hands. “I know you think I’m responsible for the fire, Holland, but you’re wrong. I had nothing to do with this.” He waved a hand at the ashy destruction. “I would never put my granddaughters in danger. I’ll swear to that on a Bible.”
“You let me think you were responsible for the fires at the union Hall and the Whittier place.”
One of Govenor’s eyebrows rose as if he’d expected at least an argument, then he leaned on his walking stick. “I had nothing to do with that. When I heard what was happening to you because of those fires, I wished I had arranged them,” he said flatly. “If you wanted to think I did . . .” He shrugged, then gave Sam a look of curiosity. “I was certain you’d blame me for this.” A head jerk indicated the rubble.
“I did until I learned the arsonist was in jail. This fire started by accident.”
“But you arranged the fire at Reverend Dryfus’s site,” Angie said, stepping closer to Sam. Herb Govenor had the same white-gold hair that Lucy and Daisy shared, but it was hard to warm to this man, even knowing it must have been difficult for him to come here today.
“Who lit the match isn’t important, but his instructions were to harm no one and not to cause major damage.” Govenor met Sam’s unwavering stare. “I wanted you out of business.”
“You got what you wanted. But you won’t win custody of my daughters. Today I’m signing the papers for the sale of the L&D Mine,” Sam said, speaking slowly. “After the signing, I’ll go straight to the Sylvan Saloon and use their telephone to ring Daisy’s doctor in Colorado Springs, and we’ll settle on a date for Daisy’s operation. Marsh Collins will inform the court of the date, which will be comfortably before the deadline. You’ve lost, Govenor.”
“I already heard about Applebee’s offer.” Herb Govenor straightened his spine and pulled back his shoulders. “I also came to talk about the future.” He hesitated. “I’m not a man to beg, Holland, and I won’t. But Lucy and Daisy are our granddaughters, the only thing we have left of our daughter. I’m asking you to allow us to see them occasionally.”
“Give me one reason why I should. One reason why I shouldn’t tell you to go to hell and walk away.”
“We’re the last connection Lucy and Daisy have to their mother. We’re blood kin. Our granddaughters have a right to know us, and we have a right to know them.”
Angie’s fingertips tightened on Sam’s sleeve and she frowned up at him. “He’s right,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m not betraying you,” she said, seeing an accusation in his gaze. “I think it would please Laura if her family came together again. You’ll raise your daughters, Sam. The major influence on their lives will be yours. But aren’t they entitled to know their mother’s side of their family, too?”
“Laura’s parents turned their backs on her when she wanted to lead her own life!” His voice was low and harsh.
“We’ve all made mistakes.” Her eyes locked to his. “What’s more important? That you satisfy your dislike of the Govenors, or that your daughters grow up knowing their only grandparents?”
In the end it was his decision. She’d done what she could to influence him, anything more would be stepping over the line.
After nodding to Mr. Govenor, Angie gingerly lifted her skirts with her fingertips and returned to Molly’s house. She came in the backdoor as Winnie was emerging from the bedroom, tears glistening in her eyes.
“When I think how close they came to dying . . .” She shook her head and pressed a trembling handkerchief to her lips. Then she slid a look toward Abby and Tilly. “Is there someplace we could speak privately?”
Ignoring Angie’s protests, Abby and Tilly rose from the kitchen table and walked to the door. “We’ll check in at our houses, then return in about an hour.”
Despite championing the Govenors to Sam, Angie found it difficult to be civil to Winnie Govenor. She had to force herself to pour the last of the coffee into a cup and set it on the table in front of Winnie. If Winnie hadn’t been a stiffly formal woman, she couldn’t have watched Angie struggle to manage the pot and cup with her bandaged hands without offering to do it herself.