Chapter Sixteen

"My father was very...overbearing."

Howard Dorsch checked his pocket watch for the umpteenth time. It wasn't quite five o'clock yet and Charlotte had always been punctual, but he wanted this dinner over with. He'd already humored Martha long enough by allowing an extra day in this dirty town.

His conferences in Saint Denis had gone well, as to be expected. It was this damn familial duty that never went smoothly.

He was certain Martha hadn't been firm enough with their daughter on her visit. If he'd been able to go up north, Charlotte would be on a train back to Chicago by now and so would he. He wouldn't have left that blasted cabin without her.

Martha had given him excuses. Something about a caretaker on the land, helping Charlotte out. Howard presumed it was some scoundrel hanging around, vying for Charlotte's favor and her eventual inheritance. When he'd commented as much, the usually timid Benjamin had taken him by surprise in defending the stranger. While Clark had clammed up, Martha and Benjamin both claimed Charlotte had control of the situation and was content.

Howard scoffed. Unlikely. He knew his daughter. She'd merely grown attached to the place and gotten stubborn about leaving. How could his pampered daughter become accustomed to labor on the daily? The notion was preposterous at best.

Howard had allowed Charlotte and her husband their peace out here because he'd been certain the two of them wouldn't last a month. Well. He hadn't been entirely inaccurate on that front. One of them hadn't lived out the first month.

Cal's death was unfortunate, in more ways than one. The consequence Howard hadn't anticipated was Charlotte not returning home. Howard had spoken with her before the couple had left and she'd backed her husband, as she should, but she hadn't seemed as keen on moving as he. When the family got the letter informing them she had been widowed, he'd expected to see her within the week.

That did not turn out to be the case and she continued to mess up his laid plans.

Howard had been the sole family member who hadn't been surprised when Cal and Charlotte had made their announcement to leave Chicago. Charlotte didn't know her husband had come to him first about moving west.

Cal had entered his office, nervous as could be, sweating so much he'd had to repeatedly wipe his brow. Howard hadn't attempted to put him at ease. While Cal laid out all his optimistic plans for making a new life in the west, Howard had opened a box of cigars, listening.

When the younger man was finished, Howard had said coldly, "You've come to me for money."

Cal's eyes widened. "No, no, sir. Honestly, no. I have plenty saved up from work."

Which could be true, but he failed to mention his parents and grandparents were likely benefactors. Howard didn't know the Balfours personally, despite their conjoined families, but he knew the parents spoiled their only son, and the grandparents their only grandson. Cal wouldn't need to ask, only to mention his intentions and they'd write a check. Spoiled rotten. His children would have to wait until he was buried for any control over the Dorsch fortune.

Howard lit his cigar, commenting mildly, "Charlotte's mother won't like her moving so far away."

Cal swallowed. "I know. I hoped you could persuade her from making a scene when the time comes."

Yes, his wife was one for the dramatic when she wanted to be. Howard leaned back in his chair. "Not an easy task. Why should I bother?"

"If you want to keep up civil relations with Charlotte, you'd be wise to it." He paused. "Sir."

The man was a fool. "Are you threatening me, boy?"

Cal let slip one of his infuriating half grins. "I don't have the guts for that. I'm only telling you our plans, whether you and Mrs. Dorsch are agreeable or not. But, I'd prefer everyone to be on good terms when we leave."

Howard contemplated his words. "Charlotte's agreed to this little trip of yours?"

Cal winced. "It took me quite a while to convince her."

"I'd assume so." Howard nodded as if sympathetic, but his gears were turning.

Cal insisted, "But, that's why I'm so adamant about it, sir. I didn't work this hard to get Charlotte to go along with me only for her parents to object openly to the whole thing."

Cal wanted his approval even if he wasn't directly asking for it. Despite this, Howard could tell the boy would be incessantly adamant until he had his way, but maybe he could use this situation to his advantage.

"How about this?" Howard offered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "I will present no objections to this endeavor. I will also convince Martha you kids should be allowed to begin your life however you see fit."

Cal nodded.

"And you will send a grandchild up here every summer, once they're old enough to walk."

"Grandchild?" Cal laughed uncomfortably. "I don't expect that to happen for awhile yet."

"But it will."

"And if we should never have any kids?"

Howard leaned back. "You claim this property is secluded? Not much else to do in a day, is there now?"

The other man had a blush creeping in. A married man, but still so young. However, smart enough to think on his offer. Hesitatingly, Cal said, "I can tell you this much, Char won't care to be separated from any children."

Howard glared and responded icily, "And I won't care for my daughter living in a hellhole for the rest of her life."

The boy shook his head. "She won't go for it."

"You'll have a few years to make her see reason."

Cal quirked a smile. "There's no making Char do anything she doesn't want to." He paused. "But, I take your meaning." He nodded his head left and right as if he were debating the issue in his head, until finally, "Alright, Mr. Dorsch. I see nothing wrong with your proposition. I wouldn't want to keep any children from their grandparents after all." He held out a hand.

"Excellent." Howard shook his son-in-law's hand and then offered him a cigar. "Then I hope you enjoy your time in the west, son."

And now the boy was dead in the ground. All that maneuvering had been for nothing. Not to mention Charlotte's refusal to return home. She was a well-bred lady. What the hell was she doing out there? If she at least lived in Saint Denis, he wouldn't have to be so damned concerned and he would have an easier time pulling her out.

The sooner, the better too. He lacked good help these days at his doctor's office. Howard hadn't realized until Charlotte's absence how much he'd come to rely on her. She was more competent than most of the assistants he'd ever had, including his beastly sons.

Clark had the brains for the job, but he lacked the conviction and grew sickly at the sight of blood. Benjamin was intelligent too, but a daydreamer and easily distracted. Howard hadn't been able to knock that silliness out of him yet and was beginning to think he never would.

Of all his children, only Charlotte had the insight, the composure and the bedside manner to continue his legacy. A female physician wasn't unheard of. Even though, only a few short years ago, he would have scoffed at the notion. But there existed colleges that accepted women into medicine in Philadelphia and Boston. Chicago would surely follow.

Charlotte had been interested in the studies at one time and he regretted now his hastiness in disallowing the expansion on her education in the medical field. Perhaps, the idea would have persuaded her back home a long time ago. Howard didn't see why the temptation wouldn't yet work.

OOOOOOOOO

At five o'clock, his daughter walked in on the arm of a ruffian and that's when he knew the situation was worse than he'd assumed. Howard shot a glare to Martha, who hadn't warned him the blasted man would be joining them this evening. She sipped her wine and didn't meet his eyes.

The bastard stood beside his daughter, too close, as if he belonged here, when there was no mistaking his social class. If Howard were a gambling man, he'd say this stranger being some sort of brawler for money.

He may have cleaned up, but his face was scarred and his nose clearly had been broken once or twice in his life. He hadn't bothered to shave. To add insult to injury, the man removed his hat in a belated gesture, indicating he'd clearly no etiquette training.

As far as his daughter's appearance, she'd changed much since he'd last seen her. No longer outfitted in the latest fashion, she looked nearly as destitute as the fellow she stood beside. She'd applied very little powders to her face, but his eyes zeroed in on her cheek. A slight yellowness to the skin that not even her cosmetics could hide. Bruising, he deducted without pleasure.

Howard snapped his pocket watch shut. "I'm pleased to see the life of a bumpkin hasn't ruined your punctuality, daughter."

"Of course not." Charlotte gestured to the brute. "Father, I'd like you to meet my escort, my dear friend Arthur Callahan."

Howard's dark eyes shifted to the other man. "Yes, Martha and the boys mentioned something about him. Are you a farmer?"

The man straightened. "Er, no."

"A rancher?"

"No."

"Do you specialize in construction or some other such nonsense?"

"No."

"Then what business do you have being around my daughter?"

"Father," Charlotte folded her arms. "Arthur is my guest and he will be treated as such."

Without the least bit sincerity, he said, "Hmm...yes, of course, dear. My apologies."

She glided over to them, kissing her mother's cheek and then moved on to him. As she did so, she whispered, "Please be nice."

The request had him pressing his lips together in a thin line. Nice? He hadn't built a reputation of fearful respect by being 'nice'. Especially to hoodlums creeping around a high bred woman's skirts.

He didn't say any of that, merely raised his brow to Charlotte and promised nothing.

She sighed and took the chair next to her mother, opposite of her brothers. The lout, "Arthur", took a seat at the other end of the table, the opposite of Howard.

Howard decided to bide his time, observing how this stranger interacted with his family. The man insolently addressed his sons as if he'd known them a long time. Absurdly, Clark seemed to have warmed to the fellow and that boy got on the nerves of anyone he met. Howard himself sometimes had a hard time maintaining a conversation with him. Especially today, since Clark was still in a mood over his dismissal of that penniless girl he was keen on.

Charlotte and her mother got into a conversation about some absurd hat maker and, for the first time, the stranger's gaze drifted over and he made unwavering eye contact with Howard.

Howard glowered, but the man wasn't cowed. He returned a strong, challenging look as if daring Howard to call out the impropriety of his appearance. Howard didn't like that one bit.

He thought they could have glared at each other for the rest of the night, if need be. But then Charlotte placed a hand on Arthur's arm to get his attention. The man looked away from him finally and his hardened expression cleared as he turned to her.

Ah. There it was then. It wasn't only a grab for her money. This man's weakness was his daughter. Unfortunately, Howard didn't miss Charlotte's mutual expression of affection, or how she smiled ever so slightly and prolonged her touch on Arthur's arm.

Hmm. This wouldn't be as easy as he initially thought. Charlotte said 'dear friend', but she obviously had a more intimate attachment to this man.

Be that as it may, Howard had broken men more obstinate than this Arthur Callahan. If he couldn't crack the man, he could tempt him with wealth. Mr. Callahan was obviously born from lowly means. It shouldn't take much to persuade him to go back to his simple, pathetic life a few dollars richer.

Howard would have his way because, by one course of action or another, Charlotte was returning to Chicago.