The Bride of Willow Creek(46)

“Then why did he sell for only six hundred?”

“Because no one knows what’s beyond the pocket. The syndicate figures it can afford to lose six hundred dollars if the sylvanite peters out. Clink Williams figures this is six hundred in hand versus nothing if the pocket is an anomaly.” Sam shrugged again. “Clink’s wife wants to go home to Ohio. The six hundred will get them there.”

Angie thought about what he was saying. It wasn’t what she’d expected. “What are you hoping for, Sam? What do you want from the future?”

“I want a house in Denver near good schools for my girls,” he said without hesitation. “I want them in a place where schoolchildren don’t discuss what fashions the whores are wearing. And I want our house to be bigger than your father’s house.”

That surprised her but she supposed it shouldn’t have. The past reverberated for both of them.

“What about the house Laura’s parents live in? I have an idea from Molly that they live in a mansion. Does your house of the future have to be a mansion?”

Sam shook his head. “Herb Govenor struck it rich a couple of years ago, back in the days when millionaires were as common as deer ticks. But Laura was already grown and out of the house before the Govenors moved to Colorado Springs and built their mansion.” He looked down into Angie’s upturned face. “Herb Govenor hates me for some damned good reasons, but he’s never held it against me that I’m not rich.”

Heat burned Angie’s throat. “My father’s dead, Sam. You don’t have to best him. You don’t have to prove anything for his sake.”

“That’s only part of it. Most of all, I need to succeed for me. I’ve failed two women—I don’t want to fail two little girls.” Lowering his head, he rubbed his forehead. “I want them to live in a house with a real parlor, go to decent schools and then to college if that’s what they want. I want them to have an armoire stuffed with Sunday dresses,” he said, opening his eyes to stare at her. “I want them to grow up a hundred miles from the nearest mine. When the time comes for beaus, I don’t want to see any miners lining up at the door. Living in a mining camp is too hard a life for a woman.”

“And what about you? Will you marry again?” she asked softly.

He laughed, a short harsh sound. “I’ve had my fill of in-laws. And you of all people should know that I’m not good husband material. I never do or say the right thing.”

In fact, she didn’t know what kind of husband he could be since they’d never had a real marriage. From what he’d said, and the hints Molly had dropped, Laura had been happy enough. But Sam as a real husband didn’t bear thinking about.

She poured the last drops of her beer over the side of the steps. “There’s something that puzzles me. If the Govenors are rich, why haven’t they offered to pay for Daisy’s surgery?”

Instantly she felt him stiffen and pull his shoulders back. Anger rolled off of him in waves.

“They told Laura they’d pay to fix Daisy’s leg if Laura would leave me,” he said bitterly. “I don’t blame them for not wanting their daughter to live with a married man. But I blame them for using Daisy and their fortune to manipulate their daughter. I blame them for being unwilling to help their granddaughter unless certain conditions are met.”

Angie stared, peering through the darkness, trying to see his expression. “That’s not fair,” she agreed. And Laura must have loved him very much to choose him over fixing Daisy’s foot. Or maybe that was an unjust thought. More likely Laura had believed that Sam would find the funds, and she could have both the man she loved and the operation for her daughter. “But Laura’s gone. Why aren’t the Govenors stepping forward now?”

“The new demand is that I give them custody of my girls and then they’ll fix Daisy’s foot.” Standing, he stepped past her and halted in the yard beside the clothesline. He tilted his head to glare at the stars. “There isn’t a single day that I don’t feel guilty. Daisy could have her operation next week. All I have to do is pack them up and deliver them to the Govenors in Colorado Springs.”

“Oh, Sam.”

“I can’t do that. I won’t give them up until I have to.”

She watched him pace, losing his silhouette against the blackness of the tent, picking him up again when he emerged near the lilac bush. “What does that mean? Until you have to?”

“Remember you asked about Marsh Collins? Marsh is my attorney. After Laura died, Herb and Winnie demanded custody of the girls. They were estranged from Laura, hadn’t been in contact with her for over a year, hadn’t come when she was dying, hardly knew the girls. Yet here they came after Laura’s death, demanding her daughters.”