A slight frown marred his forehead, and he pursed his lips. His dark beard was sprinkled with gray, bushy brows a shelf over deep-set, penetrating eyes. He puffed silently on his cigar a moment, blew out smoke and shook his head.
“Only one man has suggested it, but he has a vested interest, I believe. Still, he is powerful, and has enough wealth to help finance feeder lines to his mines if we make a deal.”
“A word of advice, Mr. Lott. If your investor is connected with Congress in any way, look elsewhere for your financing. When politicians run things, a simple business decision can get hung up for months or years before it receives the approval of Congress. And make no mistake, it would be Congress granting approval to build a feeder line even twenty feet from the main line to the stockyard.”
“You sound as if you speak with experience, Mr. Morgan.”
Steve shrugged. “I have experience with politicians.”
“And Mr. Gould? Is your experience with him profitable?”
“Let’s just say that I found it to be my best interest to get out of the railroad business, Mr. Lott. A man needs a strong stomach to deal with politicians and the labyrinthine workings of railroads.”
Lott leaned back in his chair, studying Steve. The colonel cleared his throat and turned to Ginny.
“Your husband tells me that you’ve spent some time in Mexico, Mrs. Morgan.”
“Yes. My home is there.”
“But—pardon me if I am too bold—you are not Mexican?”
“No, I was born in France but choose to live in Mexico. It’s a beautiful country.”
“Yes, it has its beauty, that is true. Do you not fear losing everything in the current rebellion?”
“A person cannot lose what was not theirs to begin with, Colonel. Mexico is not mine alone.”
“Nor does it belong to Lerdo or Díaz, yet they fight for it and people lose their lives and property.”
“Rather like the war between Texas and Mexico, I would think. Or even the more recent war between the Union and Confederate armies.”
“Or the French and the Juaristas?” Prime smiled. “And some on both sides lost everything. Lerdo is slowly losing his struggle with Díaz. Mexico is in danger of another bloody revolution, and I’m here to see that it doesn’t spill over into Texas.”
“Yet if Díaz emerges as the victor, Colonel,” Uriah Lott said, “I predict that commerce with Mexico will open up new doors, and the need for railroads will be more vital and profitable than ever before.”
Lott turned to Steve again, eyes glistening in the light afforded by the glow of lanterns. “Mr. Morgan, while I appreciate your reluctance to commit to anything without more information, a friend of yours suggested I talk with you.”
It didn’t surprise Ginny to hear him add, “Mr. Bishop was quite certain you would be able to advise me, as you are on good terms with American senators and Mexican officials.”
“Was he? There are times even the invincible Mr. Bishop can err.”
Steve sounded so cool, as if he were unaware that Jim Bishop had sent Lott to him. Was there a hidden message in there for her? After all, her father was a Congressman, and had interests in silver mines—though she thought they were all in New Mexico.
Growing bored, and still weary, Ginny tried to catch Steve’s eye, to signal to him that she was ready to leave the army post. He ignored her, but the colonel did not.
“I understand you are familiar with Mexican politics, Mrs. Morgan.”
“Not exactly, Colonel. I am acquainted with Lerdo and Díaz, but not involved in political intrigues.”
Lerdo had introduced her to Prince Ivan Sahrkanov, “as a translator,” he’d said, since she spoke French and Spanish so fluently and the Russian prince was not at all conversant in Spanish. It had been a mistake from the first, but she hadn’t known that then, had only discovered after it was too late what kind of man he was.
Steve had come to her rescue then, too, though his methods had been harsh at times. But she could also remember those times he’d taken her on a carriage ride, or out on a ship in the San Francisco harbor, fed her delicacies and expensive champagne, as if he were courting her. It had been the first time he’d ever treated her as a woman worthy of respect—his respect.
Each day brings us closer together, she thought, and more pieces of our lives fall into place. Soon, we’ll put all this behind us and make new lives together….
“Of course Mr. Bishop was extremely helpful,” Lott was saying, “and suggested I talk to Richard King from Santa Gertrudis near Corpus Christi. He has a huge spread there, a former Spanish land grant.”
Steve sat back in his chair. “I’m acquainted with King. He’s a solid businessman, and may better serve your needs than most. Talk to him about investing.”
Colonel Prime snorted. “Richard King is a former steamboat captain who had a lucky streak.”
“It wasn’t luck that made him recognize possibilities in a desert, Colonel, it was intelligence and aptitude. A man can do a lot when he works at it.” He stood up. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, it’s been a long day for my wife and she needs her rest.”
Relief flooded through her, and Ginny murmured a polite farewell as Lott and Prime rose to their feet.
“Colonel Prime is a bit opinionated,” she said when they were back at the hotel. Steve pushed open the wooden shutters to allow in a soft breeze. It was cooler at night now, the heat of the day evaporating quickly.
“Typical military officer.” Steve shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the back of a chair. “They’ll name a fort or street after him when he dies, and talk about what a good leader he had been. In a few years, no one will remember who he was.”
“You’re in a strange mood.” She began to remove the pins from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders and face. Her head ached; too
