Books and Beaus Read online

  Books and Beaus

  Cowboys and Angels Book 34

  Marianne Spitzer

  Books and Beaus

  Cowboys and Angels Book 34

  By Marianne Spitzer

  © February 2019

  This book is a work of fiction. All the names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events, locations, or organizations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the written consent of the author.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  There are many people I would like to thank for their help and understanding while I wrote this book, but first and foremost, I want to thank God for all His blessings. I also wish to thank my family and friends for their patience and understanding when I disappear into my writing world especially my son, Lance, for his unwavering support. Last, but by no means least, I would like to thank my loyal readers who read my books and leave reviews. I couldn’t do this without you. You’re the best.

  The cover was created by the talented Erin Dameron Hill. You can find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/edameronhill

  Prologue

  Lights shining through the windows in the large house at the top of the hill seemed to entice guests attending the annual gala and fundraiser for the Louisburg library to an enchanting evening. Gentle violin music could be heard drifting from the house and carriages lined the long, curved drive. Margareta Unger, the library assistant, paid the carriage driver and was escorted to the front door of the home by a fashionably clad young man who introduced himself as Giles. His single knock on the front door was answered almost immediately by a stoic butler who ushered Margareta into the foyer, took her wrap, and instructed her to follow him to the salon where the guests were enjoying hors d’oeuvres, wine, and the continuing violin music.

  Margareta, known lovingly to her friends and co-workers as Meg, sat on one of the chairs in the corner of the salon. She was uncomfortable in the crowded room. The quiet of the library was more to her liking, and she wished she didn’t have to attend the gala. Perhaps if she sat and watched from her corner, no one would want to strike up a conversation. That wish evaporated in less than a few moments when one of the library’s largest supporters, Gertrude Smythe, spotted her and hurried over dropping down onto the chair next to Meg.

  “My dear, why are you hiding here in the corner? You should be out with the other young people, smiling, dancing, and looking to attract the eye of a handsome man who could become a husband,” Gertrude asked with a wave of her hand.

  Meg bit her lip thinking of an answer. “I’m here to help support the library. I am not looking for a husband.”

  Gertrude laughed. “Every woman is looking for a husband. You will never find him sitting here. Come along.”

  Gertrude stood, and Meg didn’t have any choice but to follow the bossy woman across the room.

  For the next two hours, Meg accepted dance requests from gentlemen both young and old, ate a few crackers with cheese, and sipped a bitter tasting wine. She politely excused herself from the next dance invitation and slipped quietly out of the salon to find a bit of peace. Although it was chilly out on the early February evening, she pushed open the French doors and stepped into the garden. She took a deep breath and began to relax wondering how soon she could leave the gala without appearing rude.

  Meg turned when she heard the doors open behind her and cringed when she saw Martin Smythe, brother of Gertrude, step through the doorway. He made her uncomfortable. He did whenever he visited the library with his sister and stared at her as if she were a prize he wanted to obtain. The look in his eyes tonight was no different than she had seen many times and she needed to leave.

  Trying to smile politely, she said, “Excuse me, sir,” and went to move past Martin. He caught her arm and whispered, “Not so fast, Miss Unger. I fancy a dance and out here in the dark will suit me well.”

  “Let me go, please,” Meg asked.

  “Not until we dance and perhaps a kiss. No one can see us out here,” Martin growled lowering his voice and pulled her closer.

  Acting on instinct and fear, Meg slapped Martin across the face with all her strength. He let go of her immediately.

  As she hurried back to the doors, she heard him warn her that she’d regret what she’d done.

  Meg ignored him and hurried back into the salon and poured a glass of punch. She needed to settle her nerves and leave as soon as she could catch her breath. Martin Smythe had the reputation of being a cad and Meg had no desire to run into him at the gala again. Thirty minutes later, she regained her composure and decided it was time to leave.

  She couldn’t find her host or hostess to bid them good evening, so she walked into the foyer to find the butler. Before she could speak to the man, a maid hurried to her side and said Mister Washburn, the gala’s host, would like to speak to her in the library. Meg nodded and followed the young woman to a large oak door. The maid knocked and opened the door when she received permission and closed it behind Meg after she entered the room.

  Mister and Missus Washburn were seated in the library, and Martin Smythe was standing beside the fireplace with a brandy snifter in his hand.

  Mister Washburn cleared his throat, “Miss Unger, I don’t know quite how to begin. I asked my wife to be here for your sake, but after this evening I do not believe that your reputation in this town can be saved. Mister Smythe has informed me of your behavior in our garden. If anyone else saw you, news will spread like wildfire. We cannot have the reputation of our library or any of its employees tarnished in any way. As the chairman of the library board, I must inform you of your immediate termination. A messenger will bring the balance of your salary to your residence tomorrow, and I suggest you leave town within a week.”

  “What?” Meg stammered. “I didn’t do anything. Mister Smythe tried…”

  Her words were cut off by Mister Washburn. “We know what transpired, Miss Unger and I will not have an employee act in such a brazen manner. I am grateful Mister Smythe came to me first and explained your, let’s say, less than appropriate behavior. Now, I cannot in good faith give you any type of recommendation. You will not find employment in this town.”

  “He’s lying,” Meg insisted trying to find the words that would save her employment and reputation. Martin Smythe smirked at her, and she knew she would never win. She fought back the tears. Meg refused to allow a man like Martin Smythe see that he reduced her to tears.

  Mister Washburn held up a newspaper. “Take this and leave my home. There is a section of employment ads and mail-order bride ads for places far from Louisburg. You are no longer welcome here. Perhaps you will find a place to go, but please be assured I want you gone within the week.”

  Meg took the paper and then looked at Missus Washburn. Her eyes were sad, and Meg thought she might believe her. “I’m sorry this happened at your gala, ma’am, but Mister Smythe is lying. He should be the one chastised for…” Meg could feel her face begin to burn with anger but knew she was lost. Even if Missus Washburn believed her, Mister Washburn made it clear he did not. She turned and left without another word.

  Riding home in the carriage, Meg began to let
her anger turn to determination. She would leave town because she knew she could never find another job. Word would get around town quickly. People loved gossip and Meg couldn’t stand the idea that people would whisper about her behind her back, but where could she go? Certainly, she could never be a mail-order bride. With her luck, she’d end up with a man as dangerous as Martin Smythe or worse.

  Once settled in her room at the boarding house, Meg opened the paper. If her situation weren’t so dire, she would have laughed at some of the ads. Men with several children that needed a mother just wanted a wife who knew how to cook or asked for only lovely ladies with means to reply. Many sounded desperate which made Meg feel sad. She understood desperation.

  She couldn’t go back home. Her aunt made it clear when she left to take the assistant librarian position that she was never welcome to return. A woman who chose work over being a responsible wife and mother was an embarrassment.

  Meg picked up the paper and read through the ads one more time. Not that she wanted to marry, but occasionally there was an ad that only requested a nanny or housekeeper. She could do that if she must. Her eyes drifted away from the mail-order bride ads to the employment ads, and the word librarian jumped out at her.

  She pulled the paper closer and read. A librarian was needed for a new library in Creede, Colorado. It asked for a letter listing qualifications to be sent to a Mister Wesley Satterfield. If they were building a new library, they would also need a librarian assistant. She could be that assistant. However, she didn’t have time to send a letter and wait for a reply. If she had to leave town, heading for Creede was as good a place as any other. She’d get on tomorrow’s train.

  Meg laid back on her bed letting the paper fall to the floor as she drifted off to sleep saying a prayer that she was making the right decision.

  Chapter 1

  Sean ‘Leer’ O’Leary stepped off the train in Creede and drew his coat tighter. It was colder than he expected or maybe it was the past few months he spent in San Francisco that made him more aware of the cold. He’d still be warm in San Francisco if he hadn’t promised Wes Satterfield that he’d return and help with the construction of the new library. A promise is a promise, and Leer always kept his word. He could head back to San Francisco after the library was built.

  Leer began to walk across the platform when he saw an aged man standing at the edge of the wooden structure. He was dressed in clothes that seemed a century out of date. Leer looked at the man’s shiny black shoes and wondered why anyone wouldn’t be wearing boots in the Colorado winter, but what surprised him most was the top hat the man had perched on his head. The man’s straight-legged black pants and long waistcoat looked entirely out of place. Holding a cane with a large silver lion’s head that seemed to fit the rest of attire perfectly, the man smiled and tipped his hat at Leer.

  For some reason Leer couldn’t explain, he walked over to the man and asked, “Sir, are you cold? You’re standing here without a top coat.”

  The thin, short man shook his head. “I am never too cold or too warm. I am always perfectly all right. Thank you for asking, Leer. My name is Augustus Thistlewaite.”

  Leer shook his hand and said it was nice to meet the man and turned to leave when Mister Thistlewaite said, “Do not leave town in haste. Warmth can be found right here in Creede. You only need to look and be prepared.”

  Leer nodded and continued to walk away from the strange little man when he realized the man had called him ‘Leer’ before they exchanged names. Leer turned to walk back to the man, but Mister Thistlewaite was gone, and there was nowhere he could have gotten to in just a minute. Leer shook his head and headed toward town again wondering about the strange meeting and why Mister Thistlewaite told him not to leave Creede in haste. Leer had plans, and he’d leave when his plans were finished.

  Before looking for a room, Leer strode straight to the Satterfield home where his new boss had his office. He remembered his first visit to Creede when he had been hired to help a despicable man who claimed he was Missus Satterfield’s fiancé. The fiancé explained that he needed help to remove her from Creede and take her to an asylum for her own good. Leer’s anger rose when he thought how he had been duped and nearly caused anguish to a lovely lady.

  The lovely lady in Leer’s musings was just unlocking her front door when she spotted him striding up Mountain Road and waved.

  “Good morning, Missus Satterfield. I was coming to talk to your husband,” Leer explained as he reached the house.

  “Good Morning. Wes will be happy to see you, but he isn’t here.” She pointed down Mountain Road and said, “See that barn about a half mile down the road? It’s the new temporary library or the building Wes is using to build shelves and everything else needed before we can break ground after the freeze is past.”

  “I’ll just go down and see him,” Leer said tipping his hat.

  Delia Satterfield opened the door to her home wide and said, “Why don’t you leave your satchel and carpet bag here. No need to carry them with you. You can pick them up later.”

  “Much obliged. I’ll be back later,” Leer told Delia as he set his things just inside her doorway.

  Delia called after him, “Come back with Wes for supper. I’d like to hear any news from New York.”

  “I’d be happy to enjoy supper, but I’ve been in San Francisco for the past few months,” Leer explained.

  “Come anyway,” Delia said, waved, and shut the door against the cold wind.

  Leer picked up his pace as he strode toward the barn and wondered what Wes had in mind for him to do since it was apparent by the cold and snow on the ground that the actual building of the library would be two or more months down the road depending on the weather.

  Leer pulled open one of the large barn doors and was surprised by the heat that welcomed him. He quickly closed the door behind him and looked around the large space. The barn looked and smelled more like a warehouse than any barn Leer had seen. The floor was clean, the horse stalls contained boxes instead of animals, and the sound of hammers filled the air. Leer saw Wes at the far end of the barn and waved.

  Wes waved back and motioned for Leer to join him. The two men shook hands, and Leer commented about the work going on inside the barn.

  “I’m glad you arrived early, Leer. With the winters a bit unpredictable here, I decided to start construction on the bookshelves and other furniture we’ll need in the new library. My architect friend in New York was kind enough to make suggestions about the shelves and windows we’d need once the building is constructed. That way when the ground thaws we can start construction, and as soon as the building is up, we can move the shelves and furniture. I’ve even had a few shipments of books sent from back East.”

  “That’s a mighty sound plan, but why did you need me here now? I know I promised I’d help, but I thought I’d arrive in time to do the heavy construction work,” the burly Irishman replied.

  “You can do that if you want, but I need a man I can trust to oversee everything. I don’t know many people in Creede except for the men I worked with at the mine, and most of them aren’t skilled in construction or management,” Wes explained.

  “But my skills are working on the docks and security, Wes. What would I do here to oversee things?”

  “I trust you. When Steffen hired you to take Delia to that asylum, you listened to both sides and saw that Steffen was up to no good. You could have done what you were hired to do and forced Delia to go with Steffen, but you were honorable. You saved my wife from that man, and I’m grateful. I need a man I can trust completely.”

  Leer shifted from one foot to another feeling a bit uncomfortable listening to all the praise, but he nodded at Wes. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “Good, C'mon, I’ll introduce you to our carpenter. I worked with him at the mine, and he’s a hard worker. When I put out the word I’d need a carpenter, he was the first to apply for the job.”

  Leer followed Wes to a corner of the b
arn where the sound of hammering grew louder. Leer saw a tall, lean man with long unkempt hair working on a wood shelf.

  “Beals,” Wes called out. “Come here and meet our construction manager.”

  The man placed the hammer on one of the shelves and turned to greet Wes and Leer.

  “Leer, I’d like you to meet our carpenter, Percy Beals. Percy, this is Sean O’Leary, our construction manager. He prefers to be called Leer.”

  The two men shook hands, and Percy showed Leer around the work area. He pointed out the large paper drawing of the proposed library and the suggested shelving needed. “I have about half the shelves ready, and once I finish, I can begin on window trimmings. When your crew finishes the construction, the rest will be ready for installation.”

  “I like that idea. We can work together and get the library open as quickly as possible,” Leer said as he examined the plans hanging on the wall.

  “Yep,” Percy agreed. “That’s what Mister Satterfield wants.”

  Wes walked up and slapped Leer on the back. “Think you’re up to it? We need to hire a construction crew. Some of the men around here can be a bit surly.”

  Leer laughed, “Not any worse than the men I worked with on the docks in New York or San Francisco.”

  “I imagine not,” Wes replied. “Here, I’ll show you where you can stay. You’ll be closer to the construction site than if you stayed at the boarding house. Grab your things.”

  “They’re at your house. Missus Satterfield told me to leave them when I stopped by to see you, and she told me you were here. She insisted I come back for supper and get my things then.”