Read The Rose Legacy for Free Online Page A

day, week, or month
Carriages to Wasson Lake and all points of interest
Fine saddle horses.
    Inside, she strained in the dim light. Dom was there, and beyond him, she saw the freighter’s blacks. So he was in town somewhere, no doubt delivering his precious cargo. He who made free with her own precious things. Dom whickered as she reached for his muzzle.
    “Help you, lass?”
    She turned to the wizened ostler, so bent his head was no higher than hers. His knuckles, like crab apples, gripped the harness he held. A pang for Ti’Giusseppe seized her, and she swallowed the lump of longing in her throat. “This is my mule.”
    “Ah, the one with a will of ‘is own, now.”
    “He was trouble?”
    “Not an animal alive gives Alan Tavish trouble, lassie. I have the way with them, ye see.”
    She smiled, sensing the same affectionate passion for creatures her ti’Giusseppe possessed. That, at least, she could be glad of. Dom was in a good place.
    “Are you needin’ ‘im hitched up, then?”
    Hitch him to what, rubble on the mountainside? She frowned to think of her belongings crashed to pieces and felt the hurt and anger still inside. Oofa! Enough. What was done was done. “Thank you, no. But I will need him saddled … if you have a saddle?”
    “I do, but not a lady’s.”
    “I can ride astride.” As she had with Flavio too many times.
    “Then I’ll get ‘im ready for ye.”
    “Thank you. I’ll come back.” Carina blinked as she stepped back outside into the brightness and headed across the street.
    “Watch it!”
    She jumped back from the irate driver and his string of shaggy mules straining with a load of ore.
    “Lose yer purty head if you don’t watch out!” He spat a brown string.
    Carina raised a bent arm topped with her fist. “Animale!” Twice now she had been spat at by tobacco-chewing brutes. Animals! Not even Ti’Lorenzo, who always held a plug in his cheek, American-style, had ever spat in her direction.
    Gathering her skirt, she crossed through the traffic and started down the uneven boardwalk to Berkley Beck’s office. When he didn’t answer her rap on the door, she tried the knob. It held fast. Surveying the street, she saw no sign of him among the growing crowd, so she made her way to the Crystal Hotel.
    Unlike the night before, the dining room was empty, though by its condition, it had been well used earlier. The miners must rise with the sun, or more likely from the noise last night, they simply stumbled from the gaming halls back to their diggings in the mountainside.
    Only Berkley Beck lingered at the corner table, engrossed in a newspaper. The coffee steam from his cup drew her irresistibly.
    At her approach, he jumped up. “Miss DiGratia.”
    “Good morning, Mr. Beck.”
    “Please.” He held the chair for her.
    Carina sat.
    “May I order you breakfast?”
    Her appetite had not returned. “Only coffee.”
    “That I have already.” He turned over a white china cup and poured from the pot beside his plate.
    Carina sipped slowly, breathing the aroma. A pang of longing seized her for Mamma’s coffee and cake. She could almost breathe its fragrance, and her mouth watered at the thought. No one matched Mamma’s tarelle . She sighed.
    “I trust you spent a restful night?” Mr. Beck’s voice was sincere.
    She raised her eyebrows. “A loud night, but I did make a friend.”
    “A friend?”
    “Yes. A fat-cheeked fellow.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Did this fellow have a name?”
    “Topo, I guess. He skittered under the floor board before I could make his proper acquaintance.”
    “Aha.” Berkley Beck laughed. “You’ll find the rodent population thriving. There’s not a cat in town. Are you sure you won’t eat?”
    Carina shook her head. “Thank you, no. I came to find you. I went first to your office.”
    “I’m afraid I do dawdle over breakfast. A terrible habit, but one I cultivate nonetheless. I apologize.”
    “There’s no need.”
    “Now that you’ve