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from his man in Chicago. It contained good news—a solution was on the way to a problem more troubling than any of his business ventures could produce. It was a very good day.
    Though his office was of considerable size, today it would not hold him. He longed to be outdoors. He scooped up his hat and strode out the door.
    His assistant found him on the stairs, just a few steps from freedom.
    “You’ve a note, sir, just delivered, and these letters too, all marked urgent,” Hiram called.
    Daniel briefly considered the possibility that news of the aftereffects of the Leadville miners’s strike might be contained in any or all of the correspondence. While Beck Mines had come through the disruption without suffering permanent harm, many others had not. Too often the mail delivery contained more unofficial pleas for help than anything else.
    He could deal with that tomorrow.
    “Leave them in my office, Hiram.” Daniel took the stairs two at a time, bypassing the formality of speaking to the cluster of banker types crowding the building’s palatial lobby. Several called his name, but Daniel kept walking.
    “But, sir,” echoed above the other voices as Daniel weaved through the crowd and out into the midmorning sunshine.
    Denver smelled like mud and horse manure, a beautiful scent to a man whose greatest displeasure had always been being cooped up indoors.
    His driver met him at the door, but Daniel waved him away. “Go on home, Isak. I’m of a mind to ride today.”
    Daniel turned toward the livery, intending to saddle the spirited bay mare he kept in town for days like today. Yanking at the starched collar that threatened to strangle him, he waited for a streetcar to pass, then set out across the busy thoroughfare.
    “Sir, begging your pardon,” came the persistent voice of Hiram Nettles.
    Daniel stopped short and let a buggy full of females pass, keeping his attention focused on the livery and not the enticement a quartet of finely dressed women offered. By necessity, his was a solitary life, and one of the reasons for that rode in the back of the buggy beside the mayor’s daughter.
    “Lovely morning, isn’t it, Mr. Beck?” Anna Finch called.
    Daniel tipped his hat at Barnaby Finch’s youngest daughter and her companions. “Indeed it is, Miss Finch. Ladies.”
    Anna leaned forward, holding on to her absurd creation of a hat with both hands. “Will I see you at the Miller soiree this evening?”
    Daniel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At best, the Miller soiree would be an evening of pointless and below-average conversation. At worst, the occasion would be another in a seemingly endless parade of political events disguised as parlor entertainment. In either case, he’d rather be horsewhipped than attend.
    Unfortunately, Anna Finch took his silent no for a yes.
    “I look forward to renewing our acquaintance then, Mr. Beck,” she called as the buggy turned and mercifully disappeared around the corner.
    Barnaby Finch, Daniel’s neighbor, had been trying to pawn Anna off on him since she returned from her East Coast school last summer. For her part, Anna seemed a more-than-willing participant in thescheme. Obviously Finch figured he owned half of Colorado, so buying a husband for his youngest shouldn’t be an issue. He’d certainly had no trouble betrothing the other four in a similar fashion.
    But Daniel Beck could not be bought. Better men than Barnaby Finch had tried and failed.
    Daniel jerked off his collar and tossed it behind him while he waited for a team of slow moving mules to pass. The delay allowed his assistant to catch up. Rather than fall in step beside Daniel, the young man planted himself squarely in his path. In one hand he held Daniel’s muddied collar; in the other was a fistful of papers.
    Daniel gave Hiram a look that had caused many a grown man to shrink back in fear. His assistant, however, merely pressed on with his cause.
    “I would be remiss in my duties if I let you