Lucky Penny by Catherine Anderson Page A

sand didn’t want to end this conversation prematurely by pushing her into a full-blown panic. From her standpoint, this might be a frightening situation. In custody suits, fathers, who had greater earning power, normally prevailed in court. Maybe she feared that he meant to take Daphne away from her. David hadn’t come here to separate the mother from her little girl. The way he saw it, he was as obligated to Brianna as he was to Daphne. Hazel Wright’s appeal seemed dim by comparison to the very real need he saw here. He’d do whatever was necessary to make this right, and if that meant being saddled with a wife he didn’t love, so be it. At least she was easy on the eyes, and under better circumstances, she might even be congenial.
    “Like I said, I’m not here to do any harm.”
    She squeezed her eyes closed. When she lifted her lashes, David saw the shadows of anxiety and fear that darkened her irises. He regretted that, but what the hell was his alternative? After seeing Daphne, he couldn’t just ride away to spare this woman grief.
    “As I told you in my thank-you note, Mr. Paxton, my husband is a miner in Denver, not a marshal in an outlying town.”
    David dug a deeper hole in the dirt, wishing he were better with words. “No offense intended, ma’am, but I’ve searched high and low for another man named David Paxton in or around Denver. I’ve visited the saloons, the post offices, the assayers, and all the stores, searching the books for a transaction under his name. I’ve also interviewed countless people, hoping to find just one person who might remember him. Plain and simple, another David Paxton in that area simply doesn’t exist.”
    She looked as if she might faint. Her mouth compressed into a thin line. She weaved on her feet. David gripped her shoulder to steady her. She jerked and cringed from his touch.
    “That isn’t possible,” she told him. “I’m married to the man. I had a child with him. No more than a month ago, I received a letter from him, postmarked in Denver! He’s there, mining for gold, I’m telling you. Just because you didn’t locate him doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist. Why would I lie about such a thing?”
    David had no idea why she might lie; he knew for a fact only that she had. About a month ago, he’d spoken to the Denver postmaster at length. The man had a mind like a steel trap, took a personal interest in all his customers, and never forgot a name. If another David Paxton had posted a letter at his window at any time over the last few years, the postmaster would remember him.
    As if Brianna sensed that he didn’t believe her, she rocked forward onto her toes and extended her neck. “He mines in Denver, I tell you. In the gold fields! All of his letters have been postmarked there!”
    David didn’t want this discussion to get ugly, but Daphne’s sweet face kept swimming in his mind. Her resemblance to his mother was uncanny, and that birthmark on her neck was undeniable proof that his blood flowed in her veins.
    Trying to choose his words carefully, he replied, “The placer mining in the Denver gold fields petered out yearsago. Only a fool would sift through that dirt now, trying to find enough color to amount to anything.”
    “Are you calling my husband a fool, sir?”
    Well, no, he wasn’t, at least not exactly. David was saying, as politely as he could, that her alleged husband didn’t exist. He looked deep into the alleyway, searching the shadows, wishing he could find answers there. “I’m saying no other David Paxton resides in the Denver area.”
    “Then maybe he mines somewhere else! Maybe he moved on!” she cried. “Maybe he only goes into Denver for the amenities, a hot bath, a good meal, and a night at a hotel. He enjoys a game of cards now and again, and also an occasional drink. A man can’t live his entire life working without taking a break now and then.”
    It appeared to David that she was doing pretty much that, toiling long