Frantic, he watched the caboose flash by and wondered crazily if he could run fast enough to catch it and swing on board.
Then a movement caught his eye and he saw her. Standing on the other side of the tracks, showing a half inch of white stocking and wearing that angry, fizzy look that he loved. He thought his knees would buckle when he jumped off the platform and ran toward her.
She met him in the middle of the tracks and jabbed him in the chest with a hard finger. “I am so mad at you that I could just spit! Daisy needs me. She’s going to have a hard time managing that cast. And who is going to take care of Lucy when she comes home?” She jabbed him in the chest again. “And you need me! If you’re going to start a new business in Denver, you’ll want someone to set up your books and handle the money. You need help choosing a house because men don’t know anything about picking out a house.” Leaning forward from the waist, she narrowed snapping black eyes that fizzed and threw off sparks. “This is no time for a divorce, not when my daughters need me. We’ll talk about the divorce after Daisy is well and when the girls are settled after the move to Denver.”
“Oh God, I love you! And I do need you. I love you, I love you, I love you!” Wild with joy, he picked her up and swung her around, giving any lingerers an ample view of petticoats and white stockings. When he set her on her feet, he grabbed her and kissed her until applause broke out on the platform. “Listen to me. I can’t give you a fraction of what you deserve, but I swear to you that I’ll—”
“Oh Sam, you wonderful idiot. I don’t care about anything but you and the girls.” She held on to his ears and kissed him hard. “My life started with the three of you, don’t you know that? You and the girls, that’s all I want.” Her hands flew over his face and chest, and back to his lips. “I love you. How can you not know? I’ve always loved you. Always, always!”
He threw back his head and shouted. “She loves me!”
Turning crimson, Angie cast a timid glance at the grinning people watching them on the platform. Leaning forward she cupped her hand around his ear. “I know where there’s a hotel room that is going to be private for two whole weeks.”
Instantly his body responded, and he smiled down into her shining eyes, loving her so hard that his chest ached. And suddenly the future looked bright and promising and everything was possible. How could it not be, with her beside him?
Scooping her into his arms, he carried her up the platform steps, past the depot, and put her into a cab. He offered the driver a bonus if he got them to the hotel in record time.
Inside, he kissed her until they were both breathing raggedly and shaking with their urgent need for each other.
“About the divorce,” he said against her lips. “I think we should put it off until my business is well established.” As if he would ever let her go again.
Angie nibbled his lip, driving him half insane, her face wet with happy tears. “Actually, I was thinking we should delay the divorce until the girls are out of school and can manage on their own.”
Laughing, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again and again, unable to get enough of her, and wishing the cab had wings.
Somewhere deep inside a knot he had carried for ten years slowly unraveled and fell away. He was going to lay the world at her feet. With Angie at his side, he didn’t doubt for an instant that he could be more successful than either of them had ever dreamed.
But he knew that he would never be richer than he was at this minute.
Chapter 22
“Mrs. Holland, dinner is ready.”
Smiling, Angie swept a glance across her guests talking and laughing on the terrace, then looked out at the young people chasing croquet balls around a broad sweep of lawn.
“We’ll wait another thirty minutes, Parker.”
Winnie wouldn’t approve of extending the cocktail hour, but Winnie also knew that Angie had never been a stickler for strict etiquette. Angie’s dimples deepened when Winnie caught her eye and pointedly glanced at her watch.
They had brought Winnie to Denver two years ago and settled her a block away. But the starch had gone out of Winnie after Herb’s death. Today she looked frail and round-shouldered, and Angie had noticed she sought the sunny spots on the terrace even though Denver was enjoying an exceptionally warm spring.
Molly ambled toward her, holding a plate heaped with hors d’oeuvres. “You know what I like best about being rich? Not having to cook. What are you thinking? You look pensive.”
“I was trying to remember if Winnie will be seventy-five or seventy-six on her next birthday.”