not a ‘ no ’.”
“You’re an exhausting man.”
“So, I’ve been told.” Samuel said, as he leaned his tall, lean body against the bricks of the building’s wall. “I brought a peace offering to persuade you.” He held out flowers. Opal had never seen a larger bouquet. The newspaper they were wrapped crinkled as she accepted them. She inhaled the scent and ran her hand over the whisper soft buds. The early fall roses smelled sweet and pungent.
Samuel had gotten a shave and probably a bath somewhere in town. His blue eyes shined with all the grime off his strong face, and his black hair was combed back. The grubby clothes and Stetson were replaced with a tailored wool coat, matching waistcoat, and a floppy bow tie. His first purchase with his new wealth was clean clothes … and flowers for her.
Opal was flattered. She was beyond flattered. She was smitten. But what would people say about an unmarried woman walking the city streets, alone, this time of night, with a dapper young man? Her subconscious cared, the rest of her didn’t. There was no father to shake a finger at her when she got home.
Her father left her and her mother to seek additional wealth in the ‘fields of gold’ of the Klondike. All he found was snow that swept him down a mountainside to his death. Her mother died a short time later, of what Opal guessed was a broken heart. She’d never love anyone that completely. After twenty years of what she’d though was a marriage of love, the lure from the North won out. Her father left on an Inland Passage liner in the middle of the night without a note. She wouldn’t take a chance; her heart would stay right where it needed to be, in her ribcage.
“I’ll have dinner with you, but nothing more.”
“Why Miss Grey, I am a complete gentleman. That is all I ask of you.” He took her hand. “Good God. Your fingers are like ice.”
“I forgot my gloves at the bank. I’m not going to go back there for all the tea in China… at least until Monday.”
He laughed and took the bouquet, laying it on a corner block. He clasped her hands, raised them to his mouth, and blew warm air against her knuckles. The warmth of Samuel’s hands seeped through her cold fingers all the way to the bone. Opal had to restrain herself not to sigh in pleasure.
He looked up through dark lashes. Samuel made her weak in the knees, and he knew it. She could smell the lye from the soap he’d scrummed his body with, along with an underlying smell of lime? She couldn’t pinpoint the citrus smell… her nose just told her it was good.
Samuel dropped her hands and offered his arm. She took it, but stopped. “My flowers.”
He grinned. “Leave them. I’ll buy you a new bunch after dinner.”
Opal picked them up. Samuel smiled as she clutched the flowers and his arm.
Opal was embarrassed to offer her choice of restaurants, but Samuel was the one who said ‘money was no object’. They’d dined at a new place in town, the Merchant Café . She’d had succulent salmon and Samuel ate a steak that nearly covered his plate. Now, they laughed and strolled arm in arm along a nearly vacant street, after he’d insisted he walk her home.
She found Samuel intelligent and well-spoken. A pleasant surprise compared to most miners who crossed her path. The two of them spoke of politics, and current events. He also had a wide knowledge of literature, her favorite subject.
They heard quick footsteps as two men came up behind them. One moved to her left, one to Samuel’s right. They stopped and blocked their path. Samuel clenched her arm tighter.
“What we got here? Just the man we’re looking for.” When the first man smiled, she saw half his front teeth were stubs. The stench of his breath carried the distance. Beer and rotten teeth.
“Let us pass. We have no issues with you,” Samuel’s voice sounded dark and dangerous.
“Maybe we have an ‘issue’ with you.” The second man stepped closer. Samuel
“You’re an exhausting man.”
“So, I’ve been told.” Samuel said, as he leaned his tall, lean body against the bricks of the building’s wall. “I brought a peace offering to persuade you.” He held out flowers. Opal had never seen a larger bouquet. The newspaper they were wrapped crinkled as she accepted them. She inhaled the scent and ran her hand over the whisper soft buds. The early fall roses smelled sweet and pungent.
Samuel had gotten a shave and probably a bath somewhere in town. His blue eyes shined with all the grime off his strong face, and his black hair was combed back. The grubby clothes and Stetson were replaced with a tailored wool coat, matching waistcoat, and a floppy bow tie. His first purchase with his new wealth was clean clothes … and flowers for her.
Opal was flattered. She was beyond flattered. She was smitten. But what would people say about an unmarried woman walking the city streets, alone, this time of night, with a dapper young man? Her subconscious cared, the rest of her didn’t. There was no father to shake a finger at her when she got home.
Her father left her and her mother to seek additional wealth in the ‘fields of gold’ of the Klondike. All he found was snow that swept him down a mountainside to his death. Her mother died a short time later, of what Opal guessed was a broken heart. She’d never love anyone that completely. After twenty years of what she’d though was a marriage of love, the lure from the North won out. Her father left on an Inland Passage liner in the middle of the night without a note. She wouldn’t take a chance; her heart would stay right where it needed to be, in her ribcage.
“I’ll have dinner with you, but nothing more.”
“Why Miss Grey, I am a complete gentleman. That is all I ask of you.” He took her hand. “Good God. Your fingers are like ice.”
“I forgot my gloves at the bank. I’m not going to go back there for all the tea in China… at least until Monday.”
He laughed and took the bouquet, laying it on a corner block. He clasped her hands, raised them to his mouth, and blew warm air against her knuckles. The warmth of Samuel’s hands seeped through her cold fingers all the way to the bone. Opal had to restrain herself not to sigh in pleasure.
He looked up through dark lashes. Samuel made her weak in the knees, and he knew it. She could smell the lye from the soap he’d scrummed his body with, along with an underlying smell of lime? She couldn’t pinpoint the citrus smell… her nose just told her it was good.
Samuel dropped her hands and offered his arm. She took it, but stopped. “My flowers.”
He grinned. “Leave them. I’ll buy you a new bunch after dinner.”
Opal picked them up. Samuel smiled as she clutched the flowers and his arm.
Opal was embarrassed to offer her choice of restaurants, but Samuel was the one who said ‘money was no object’. They’d dined at a new place in town, the Merchant Café . She’d had succulent salmon and Samuel ate a steak that nearly covered his plate. Now, they laughed and strolled arm in arm along a nearly vacant street, after he’d insisted he walk her home.
She found Samuel intelligent and well-spoken. A pleasant surprise compared to most miners who crossed her path. The two of them spoke of politics, and current events. He also had a wide knowledge of literature, her favorite subject.
They heard quick footsteps as two men came up behind them. One moved to her left, one to Samuel’s right. They stopped and blocked their path. Samuel clenched her arm tighter.
“What we got here? Just the man we’re looking for.” When the first man smiled, she saw half his front teeth were stubs. The stench of his breath carried the distance. Beer and rotten teeth.
“Let us pass. We have no issues with you,” Samuel’s voice sounded dark and dangerous.
“Maybe we have an ‘issue’ with you.” The second man stepped closer. Samuel
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