Inez tightened her lips and said nothing.
Flo raised an eyebrow. “Are you loathe to admit that I was right in thinking that when you left Leadville you were enceinte? Boy or girl?”
Inez forced herself to say, “It was not meant to be.” Memories from ten months previous intruded, unsolicited, unwanted. A hotel in Sacramento. Sudden pain. Sudden blood. A local doctor, unspoken questions lurking behind his clinical solicitousness. Inez, teeth clamped until her jaw ached, pushing down the moans so as to not to make matters worse for Antonia, barred from the room by the doctor. Unspoken questions dammed up behind Antonia’s frightened gaze, once the doctor had allowed her in briefly as Inez lay in bed, spent and weak, after the miscarriage.
Antonia had grabbed Inez’s hand, bursting out, “Don’t die, Mrs. S!” The doctor had immediately called for the hotel matron to remove Antonia, with strict instructions for Inez to rest and not be disturbed. As if rest were even possible.
Understanding flooded Flo’s face, accompanied by a swift, if distant, sympathy. “Oh, dear. I am sorry, Mrs. Stannert. As you know, in my business, such an event would usually be cause for relief, if not outright celebration. Fewer complications, as it were.”
Inez waved one hand, as if brushing cobwebs aside. “It is past.” She shut the memory and its painful emotions away, locking them up deep inside, and moved toward the table and her present concerns, gesturing Flo to a chair. “We can talk privately over here.”
She raised the temperature and the volume of her voice so that it would be pleasantly audible to any eavesdroppers outside, saying, “No tea, Mrs. Sweet? Very well. Let us talk about your daughter. How long has she been playing the piano?” before sitting at the table and continuing sotto voce, “You surely did not come all this way to update me on Mark Stannert’s doings, to reminisce, or to inquire about my well-being. What the hell is going on?”
All trace of lightness left Flo’s demeanor. Her eyes narrowed, the little come-hither smile vanished as if it had never been, and her dimpled face tightened. “Nothing good, I can assure you.” Ignoring the proffered chair, she paced, clasping and unclasping her hands, her lace parasol slapping her coat as it swung from her wrist on its bamboo handle. “In fact, it’s a goddamned mess.”
She finally sank down into the chair next to Inez. “It wasn’t my idea to be here in San Francisco, believe me.”
“So, why are you here?”
Flo took a deep breath. “I don’t have much time. I’m supposedly out shopping for a new hat. I’m glad you’re sitting down for what I’m about to tell you. I’m here with Harry Gallagher.”
Inez stared, unbelieving.
Harry.
Harry Gallagher, owner of Leadville’s Silver Mountain Mine, here in San Francisco?
A wealthy Eastern capitalist, Harry was one of a handful of silver barons who had extended his fortune by coming in early on the Leadville mining boom. His wealth had only continued to grow as he invested in other holdings inside and outside Colorado, as Inez knew. It would not be out of line, she reasoned, for him to have business in the West Coast’s crown jewel by the bay. And to pay Flo enough that she would accompany him as his companion.
But looking into Flo’s worried gaze, Inez suspected this visit was more than that. Furthermore, Inez had once, in a moment of emotional weakness, capitulated to Harry’s charms, a misstep resulting in untold complications she had no desire to revisit, all of which only added a dark undercurrent to her increasing apprehensions.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mrs. Stannert! I went through a great deal of trouble to come here and warn you.”
Inez found her voice. “And what,” she said, “has any of this to do with me?”
“Look, I know way back when you thought your husband dead and gone, before he made his surprise reappearance, you and Harry were…Well, this isn’t really about that. At least, not entirely. Did you ever meet Harry’s son?”
Inez blinked. “I had no idea he had a son.” But then again, I didn’t even know he had a wife. At least not at the start.
Flo nodded. “He does. Robert H. Gallagher, all of twenty-three years old. Harry brought him to Leadville a year ago, shortly after you left town, and put him in charge of Silver Mountain Mine. The son had been Back East with his mother until she died. She was an invalid, only came to Leadville once, as far as I know. Robert was devoted to her. The reason given for his sudden appearance and elevation in Leadville was that Harry was grooming him to take responsibility in the family business. I also heard rumors of certain unsavory hijinks Back East that caused Harry to think it might be best to bring him West. Well, Robert was not the least bit interested in following in his father’s footsteps and has a bit of a wild streak besides.”
“You would know all this how?” asked Inez.
“How?” Flo lifted an eyebrow. “How do you think? In the usual way, Mrs. Stannert. In my business, there are no secrets. At least, not many that stay that way.”
She pulled at one of the curls by her ear, releasing it like a spring. Nudging aside a stack of music scores, she put her elbows on the table, and leaned toward Inez. “Apparently, Harry decided to wipe out the wild streak in Robert, plain and simple. Three months after Robert came to town he was engaged to a prim little miss who just happened to be the daughter of one of the rich muckety-mucks Harry knows. Robert was less than enthusiastic about the match.”
“The match was Harry’s doing?”
“The two fathers. All strictly business,” said Flo.
Inez flashed on Carmella, and Nico’s attempts to curb her spirit. “Let me guess. These stories seldom end well,” said Inez grimly.
Flo nodded. “Robert came to talk to me, two days before the
