The Sugar Queen Read online

  I hesitated at the doorway. It wasn’t appropriate for us to be alone without Jasper to supervise. Yet I wanted desperately to spend time with him.

  He laughed as he sat in his usual chair by the fire and picked up a glass of whiskey. “Come on, now. I won’t eat you up.”

  “You know it’s not proper.” A trail of fire raced up my back and flooded my face. I sounded ridiculous. There was something about this uninhabited land that made the rules from home seem outdated.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked.

  The worst? An image of him grabbing me in his arms and kissing me flashed before me. That would be bad. And very good. I didn’t think it was possible, but I flamed hotter.

  I clutched the tie around my neck and shook my head to dispel my traitorous thoughts.

  “Miss Cooper?” Lord Barnes asked, with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Are you all right? You’ve flushed quite pink. Are you ill?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Does that mean you’ll come in and have tea?” His eyes danced with amusement.

  “Yes, I suppose it’s all right just this once,” I said.

  I sat in the chair closest to the fire and allowed him to pour the tea. My mother had taught me that tea was a woman’s task, but Lord Barnes didn’t seem to know that convention. Or perhaps, like so many things, he didn’t care. After taking a sip, I directed my gaze at him, then lost nerve. Was letting my mind wander to the idea of us foolish? He was an aristocrat, rich and unbothered by such petty details as to where or even if the next meal would come. This library with its shelves of books and posh furnishings and expensive liquor was the world of Lord Barnes.

  “What is it?” His eyebrows raised and he grinned, looking very much like Flynn. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Should you be?”

  He looked over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his whiskey. “Not at the moment, no.”

  “Sometimes it seems like you’re silently laughing at me. Why am I so amusing?”

  He grinned as he crossed one leg over the other. “You amuse me for several reasons.”

  “And what are those?” I asked, grinning back at him despite my best efforts to remain aloof.

  “You’ve got spunk. And you know how to laugh at yourself, which I think is a wonderful quality. Watching you struggle to be proper makes me laugh, because inside that perfect little shell of yours is the heart of a rebel. And by shell, I mean your outer beauty, which in my opinion is unparalleled.”

  “Lord Barnes, you are full of nonsense.” My heart raced at such a speed I was afraid it might explode from the exertion.

  He pressed his hand to his chest. “I speak the truth.”

  I smoothed my skirt and drank from my cup. The warmth of Lizzie’s expertly brewed tea traveled down my throat and into my stomach.

  “You won’t fall in love with one of those handsome chaps, will you? If you fall in love with one of them and not me, you’ll break my heart.”

  My hand trembled as I set the cup back in its saucer. “Lord Barnes, be serious.”

  “I’m quite serious.” His eyes no longer sparkled with amusement. In fact, they glittered with a raw intensity that made my stomach bubble like champagne in a crystal flute. “Your presence here has brightened our lives. My life.”

  I must change the subject, I thought. Get us back to the task at hand. “Rachel Cole came to see me tonight. She’s changed her mind about school.”

  He rose from his chair and crossed over to the liquor cabinet. “She came to see me the other day and said as much. I wasn’t sure she wouldn’t change her mind.” He returned with a glass of whiskey and sank heavily into the chair. I’d reminded him of his burden and loss by mentioning her. For a moment, I wished I’d kept it to myself for a few more minutes and enjoyed basking in his smile.

  “She said she wanted to look me in the eye and decide for herself what kind of person I was.”

  “That sounds like her.” He smiled as he drank from his glass. I watched, temporarily distracted by the way his lips puckered when he swallowed. “She must have liked what she saw in those eyes of yours.”

  I chuckled. “She said I was either naïve or brave.”

  He rose from the chair and ambled to the fire, then poked the logs with the iron rod. The flames rose high, warming the half of my body that faced the fireplace. He placed his forehead against the mantel. “God, I hope this is the right thing to do. I promised Samuel I’d keep them all safe.” He turned away from the fire to face me. “Not to mention your safety and that of the other children. How far will these men go?”

  “We can’t back away from what’s right, even if we’re frightened.”

  “I don’t want you to be scared,” he said softly. “In fact, I deplore it.”

  “A man’s dead because someone didn’t want the Cole children in school. I’m frightened, yes. But the test of courage is to do that which we know is right even if there are consequences.” I looked at my hands, knowing I needed to broach the subject of the Wu family. If he knew about them and had made a conscious choice to exclude them from the community, I would be crushed. Women and children should not live in shacks without food or warmth. Not in the society Lord Barnes said he believed in and was actively building. Not in any community. I didn’t care about the color of their skin or whether their ancestors were buried in these parts or in another land across the sea. Would he agree with me? Was it only because of his alliance with Cole that he’d been willing to include children of a different color?

  I elongated my neck, hoping to portray confidence. The palms of my hands were damp with perspiration, and the pulse at my neck quickened. “Did you know there’s a Chinese family living in the old mining camp?”

  “What did you say?” His voice sounded dry and strange.

  “Mrs. Cole said there’s a Chinese family living down by the old mining site—a woman with children. School-aged children. Samuel took them fresh meat on a regular basis. They’re afraid to come to town. Did you know about them?”

  He rocked back on his heels, silent. The click of the second hand on the grandfather clock marked time as I waited for his answer. “I’d heard rumors. Samuel never said anything to me. I’m not sure why that would be.” He said the last part under his breath.

  “Maybe he thought you wouldn’t share his sympathies.”

  A muscle above his right eye twitched. “Did he think so little of me? Do you?”

  “Shouldn’t a rumor of this kind be investigated?” A swift anger rushed through me. “I’d have thought your ideals would have encouraged you to look in the shadows.”

  His face reddened. “Isn’t that a little quick to judgment? You’ve no idea what I’ve done or not done for the poor in this community.”

  “What have you done?”

  “I’ve given them work,” he said. “They’ve earned their own way instead of accepting charity.”

  “Charity?” I was hot as the fire poker now. “If they’re ostracized from the community, how are they supposed to get work? The kindness of community is all that will separate them from either freezing to death or going hungry.”

  “Why are you angry with me? I can’t give someone work I didn’t know existed. I’m not clairvoyant.”

  “They might starve if we don’t do something,” I said. “Do you understand that?”

  “I’m quite aware of the winters here,” he said.

  We glared at each other for a good five seconds before he broke the tension with a low chuckle. “Listen, tiger, we’re in agreement. If anyone in this community needs help, I’m willing to provide it. However, I need to understand the situation better first.”

  “What’s there to know? There are children who need help. And stop laughing at me. None of this is funny.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “You are. Inside. I can see it in your eyes,” I said, still furious. “I don’t appreciate being dismissed.”

  “I’ve done nothing
of the kind.” He held up both hands. “Before you lambaste me further, did she give you any other details?”

  “No, only that they live in the abandoned shack.”

  “I haven’t been down there for a long time,” he said, much too lackadaisically for my liking.

  “This isn’t like contemplating whether or not we should have a picnic by the river. What are we going to do? We need a plan. When I think of those hungry children… We can’t wait. We have to go there and see what they need.”

  He crossed around the coffee table to where I sat on the couch. “May I sit?”

  I nodded, holding my breath to steady my nerves.

  He draped one arm over the back of the couch. “I like the word we, Miss Cooper, but I’ll take care of this. You have enough to do. Jasper and I will drive out in the morning and see what they need. Will that satisfy you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You don’t have to be mad at me.” He brushed his finger across my cheek. “We’re on the same side.”

  A flash of desire shook me to my very core. I couldn’t look away, captivated by the low timbre of his voice and the way his eyes went all soft when they looked at me.

  Finally, I shifted my gaze to my lap. The fire crackled as a log shifted. Several sparks flew against the grate.

  He lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Your wish is my bidding. I’d do anything to win your affection.”

  “You’d do this for me, even if you didn’t want to?”

  “Let me put it to you this way,” he said. “I’m a man smart enough to know when to listen to a woman wiser than I. So, yes, I’d do it for you, even if I didn’t agree, which I do. My ideals are not simply pulled out when convenient.”

  I let out a deep breath. How could I remain angry when he spoke to me this way? “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

  He picked up the plate of cookies and held it out to me. “Now, have a biscuit. The nights are long and cold here. It’s best to have a full stomach before retiring.”

  “I’ve been here long enough to know how long and cold the nights are.” I gave him a sideways glance. “Furthermore, in America, we call them cookies.”

  A hearty laugh came from deep inside his chest. “Have a cookie, Miss Cooper, and forgive my imperfections.”

  “I’ll sleep on the last part,” I said as I snatched the largest cookie. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  Chapter 20

  Alexander

  * * *

  I rose the next morning filled with dread. I’d slept terribly, plagued by nightmares about Samuel. He’d come to me in a dream, chastising me for my ignorance. You only see what you want, he’d said to me.

  The Samuel of my dreams was right, as was Miss Cooper. I hadn’t considered the children in the shadows. White men had forced Native Americans out of the area decades before I came, their fate sealed by the discovery of gold, then silver in these mountains. I liked to pretend none of the atrocities had happened and that God had made this land just for white settlers, but it was simply untrue. Long after the gold rush was over, many immigrants from China had come to seek their fortune and found nothing but sand. Too poor to go home, they’d ended up trapped in a country that didn’t want them. Over the years, I’d convinced myself that the tragedies of the Native American and Chinese people were before my time and had nothing to do with me. Although that might have been true, I couldn’t hide behind that excuse when faced with the current reality. A Chinese family had been forced out of our society because of their ethnicity. Rachel Cole’s children were not safe in town. This was not the community I’d dreamed of.

  Miss Cooper was right. How could those forced into the shadows survive, let alone thrive? What were they supposed to do if they weren’t welcome?

  I was a young man when I first came to America. So young, in fact, that I hadn’t yet considered the consequences of my choices. I wanted only to have adventures. The idea of doing what was expected of me seemed like a death sentence. I’d read of the western frontier and the men and women who had braved rough terrain and wild animals to better their circumstances. This idea was so very American to me and stirred my blood. I gave up the inheritance and the title, leaving it all to my younger brother who was so much better suited for it all. I was free and that’s all I wanted. Now, all these years later, I understood what a romantic fantasy the wild west had been. In those tales of conquering heroes, there was no mention of the American government’s manipulation of white settlers or the atrocities done to tribal nations. The government had promised rich, fertile soil in Indian Territory to anyone willing to bet on a homestead. They’d lured them out west with outright lies for the sole purpose of expansion and destroyed Native American life.

  All this said, I had no regrets. I’d made the life for myself that I’d dream of as a boy. All on my own terms and in my own ways.

  Jasper and I set out after breakfast with a basket of food put together by Lizzie. Visibility was good, and temperatures had risen into the twenties. When we were out of town proper, I let Oliver and Twist run. Their muscles rippled as they galloped through freshly fallen snow. The fierce wind chilled my cheeks.

  Emerson Pass was built in the valley between the sister mountains. A river ran along the base of the southern mountain. During the late sixties, gold had been found in its banks. Word spread, as it does, and hordes of men flocked to the area. At one time there had been five hundred residents. After it became clear in the late eighties that whatever gold or silver was here had already been mined, the town’s population shrank to less than fifty. Then a fire burned every structure to the ground. When I got here, there were only a handful of people left, one of whom was Samuel. He’d been friendly but made it clear he wanted nothing to do with my plans. “Build your town,” he’d said. “And leave me be.”

  What he’d been doing for the shadow people was not in the narrative of the story I’d believed about Samuel. I’d seen him as an isolationist. He meant no harm, expecting nothing from others, and expected the same in return. The only exception had been his plea to me.

  We came upon the old building where business was conducted back in the mining days. Clearly, it hadn’t been built with much thought to the future, as it was nothing more than a shanty with one sloped roof. Twenty yards from the structure, swift river water tumbled over rocks.

  The hint of human inhabitants was limited to a trail of smoke out of the tin stovepipe that stuck out of the roof like a groundhog popping up from its hole.

  We tied the horses to a tree and ambled up to the shack. I rapped my knuckles on the door. There were no windows, but I detected the murmurings of people inside. Finally, the door opened a crack. A boy with black eyes peered at me.

  “Hello.” He was around the twins’ age, wearing a tattered plaid shirt that seemed sized for an adult, as it came to his knees. His shoes were made of faded black cloth.

  “Is your mother here?” I asked.

  He shook his head, watching me as a wary animal would a predator. “No, my grandmother. She doesn’t speak English.”

  “I’m Alexander Barnes,” I said. “And this is Jasper.”

  The boy nodded and opened the door a few more inches to get a look at Jasper.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I am Li Wu.”

  “If I talked to your grandmother, would you translate for me?” I asked.

  Li’s gaze darted from me to Jasper and back again. I imagined a thousand questions ran through his mind. Who were we? What did we want?

  “We mean no harm,” I said. “I just want to talk to her and tell her about the new school that opened in town.”

  “School?”

  “Yes. Would you like to go to school?”

  Li shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Will you ask your grandmother to come to the door?” I asked.

  After another moment of indecision, he nodded his head in agreement. “Wait here.” He closed the door.
A few minutes later, he returned with an elderly woman. She was not much bigger than her grandson. Wrinkles lined her hazel skin.

  “I’ve come from town. My name is Alexander Barnes, and this is Jasper.”

  “She is called Jun,” Li said.

  “Jun, we’re friends of Samuel Cole’s.” I waited for Li to translate.

  She listened to Li, then said something in Chinese to him.

  “She says Samuel is our friend,” Li said.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but he was killed,” I said.

  Again, Li translated. The old woman flinched and put her hand on her chest.

  “She wants to know what happened to him,” Li said.

  “He was shot. Murdered.”

  She clutched the collar of her threadbare dress and asked Li another question.

  “Was it because of his wife?” Li asked.

  “We don’t know,” I said. “I learned he looked after you and wanted to see if you were doing all right out here.”

  “He brought us food,” Li said, translating for his grandmother. “And now we have none.”

  “We understand,” I said. “We’re here to offer our help.”

  From behind me, Jasper presented the basket of food. “We brought this,” he said.

  A flicker of a smile crossed Jun’s face.

  “She says thank you,” Li said.

  “May we come inside?” I asked.

  Jun nodded and motioned for us to enter.

  The interior was clean but bare, consisting of a woodstove, two rickety chairs, a crude table made from faded boards, and a stool that looked left over from an early saloon. Bedding consisted of blankets on a mat near the stove. Several pots were stored on a shelf, as well as a tin bowl and a few plates. A broom was propped up by the doorway.

  A little girl of about three sat in the middle of the bedding. She watched us with a mixture of curiosity and fear. She called out to her brother, who went to sit next to her.

  Jun fluttered her hands toward the chairs and spoke to us in Chinese.

  “She wants you to sit,” Li said.