The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(7)

At least Makepeace didn’t expect conversation. At most they discussed the mine and a little of the industry. Makepeace was sharp enough and educated. If Quillan cared to, he might learn a lot about mining from the man. But just now his intentions were to rid himself of the New Boundless and cut loose of Crystal. As soon as Carina could travel. As soon as she was well. Dr. Felden believed she would recover if she gave herself time to heal.

Makepeace cleared his throat. Quillan waited for him to talk, but the man settled back into his thoughts. Quillan returned to his own. This trip hadn’t exactly been what he intended. Quillan had intended to seek Tabor’s advice, but he hadn’t premeditated his offer to Makepeace. If that was how God worked, Quillan had better keep his wits sharp.

But it was a sound plan. Owning the New Boundless would keep Makepeace in Crystal, a detail that had occurred to Quillan after he left Carina. A thousand miles between Crystal and Sonoma should be just about right.

Maybe Horace Tabor was not interested in another mine, but he’d know who was. And the New Boundless was successful. Tabor would wonder at Quillan’s decision. But then Horace Tabor had yet to get a handle on him. Quillan half smiled. He sort of liked it that way.

They reached Leadville by late afternoon, just as the sun left the sky. Quillan left the wagon in the livery. He paid the ostler for feed, then turned to Makepeace. “First, I have some freight to collect. Then we’ll see Hod Tabor. You’ll need a hotel.” The Tabors would likely offer a room in their home, but he didn’t fancy sharing it with Alex Makepeace. The hours in the wagon had allowed plenty of time to stew on Makepeace’s relationship with Carina, and the dragon was twisting again.

“Meet me here in an hour.”

Makepeace nodded and headed for the hotel on the corner. Quillan worked quickly to collect goods for the trip back. In just short of an hour he returned to the livery and found Makepeace waiting. He took the New Boundless documents, and they boarded the horse car, which carried them to Tabor’s street.

They discovered the Tabors were at dinner, and as Quillan and Makepeace were shown to the dining room, Tabor stood. “Quillan!” He gripped his hand. “You show up at the queerest times. Augusta and I were just discussing you.”

“All good, I hope.” Quillan reached down to where Augusta sat, took her hand, and covered it with his other palm.

“Hello, Quillan. You’re quite robust, I see. Altogether recovered since the last time we met.”

Quillan softened his gaze. “Thanks to your kindness, Augusta.”

“Hmm.” She sniffed. “And who is this you’ve brought?”

Quillan turned. “Alex Makepeace, may I present Horace and Augusta Tabor.”

With a look close to awe, Makepeace shook hands with each.

Quillan turned to Tabor. “Have time to talk business?”

Augusta stood abruptly. “Certainly not on an empty stomach. If I know you, Quillan, you’ve dragged this poor fellow through the snow without a morsel to warm or sustain him. Am I right?” She addressed Alex Makepeace.

“Unless you consider hardtack a meal.”

“Humph.” She walked to the wall and pushed the third button in the row. A dull ring vibrated through the wall. When the maid appeared, Augusta ordered soup and bread, then turned. “With the sun setting so early we dine at an uncivilized hour.” She waved a hand toward the table. “Please. I daresay Horace won’t refuse a second slice of pie?”

Tabor settled back into his place at the head of the table. “If I must, my dear.” He patted his thickening waist. Still, for a man in his middle years, he was fit and elegant. And he now took charge of the conversation as Quillan and Makepeace ate. Quillan’s thoughts wandered when talk turned to mining, as inevitably it would, but Tabor and Makepeace held forth at length and with much gusto.

After a flavorful venison soup and crusty bread, Quillan eyed the piece of mincemeat pie placed before him, then sent a grateful nod to Augusta. Her gaze was on him already.

“And how is your wife, Quillan?” Augusta asked it softly, but Tabor seized on it and pounced.

“Ah, yes, your wife.” He turned to Makepeace with a rascally smile. “I only half believe he has one.”

Makepeace set his fork on the edge of the desert plate. “He has.” He flicked his glance Quillan’s way.

“And she’s ugly as an Angus heifer?”

“Hod.” Augusta frowned.

Makepeace hid his discomfort almost well enough. He shook his head. “She’s not ugly. Far from it.”

“Now are you satisfied, Hod?” Augusta pushed against his arm. “I hope that’s the last we’ll hear in that vein. Besides, beauty isn’t everything.”

From a plain woman, that was especially poignant, and Quillan hoped Tabor would drop it. The last thing he needed was a discussion of Carina’s attributes with Alexander Makepeace holding forth.

Tabor swabbed his mouth with the napkin. “You had business to discuss?”

Makepeace seemed surprised that Augusta stayed at the table. But Quillan knew better. She was a businesswoman from the first step she’d landed in Leadville. He met Tabor’s querying gaze. “Yes. I’d like to sell my mine.” Quillan took out the papers and laid them before Tabor. “I’ve made an offer to Makepeace here, but he can’t do it alone.”