Something Borrowed (Borrowed Brides 3)

"I plan to have uniforms made for all the students—two dresses of navy serge for warm weather and two dresses of navy wool for cold weather and trousers and shirts for the boys—so the mothers don't have to worry about providing decent school clothes. Your girls are accustomed to wearing… different kinds of clothes. Will they agree to the uniforms and the rules?"

"Yes, ma'am," Silver said. "And since I'm quite a good seamstress, I'll help you make the uniforms. I'll make certain the girls are in school every day and on time and scrubbed clean like the other girls. And I'll see that they do their homework and go to bed early."

"What about their jobs?" Mary asked. "How will they earn money?"

Silver laughed. "We haven't had enough upstairs customers lately for it to matter. Just saloon business. But I've already thought about the money and I decided to pay the girls to go to school, at a reduced rate of course, but at least they'll be making something."

"Can you afford to do that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Like I said, I've put aside some money for my old age." Silver extended her hand. "I'll take care of opening your bank account for you whether you take the girls on or not, but I'd like to know if we have a deal so I can go home and tell the girls about it. Have we or haven't we?"

Mary reached out and shook the other woman's hand. "It's a deal, Miss Delight."

Silver pumped Mary's hand several times. "Call me Silver. No, never mind that, call me Syl. My real name's Sylvia."

Mary laughed. "Call me Mary," she said. "I think we're about to become friends as well as business associates."

"Who would have ever thought it?" Silver asked. "A madam and a schoolteacher becoming friends." She laughed along with Mary, then turned and entered the Ajax Saloon.

Minutes later, Mary Alexander Kincaid became the first half-breed Indian to have an account at Hugh Morton's Ajax Saloon bank.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

"Hello, Edwin," Lee said as he entered the Pennsylvania Avenue office of Edwin Carraway, Comptroller of the Currency of the United States.

A tall, spare man with graying hair and spectacles, Edwin Carraway came from very wealthy Maryland family—a family that had managed to stay loyal to the Union during the war. And Edwin Carraway had lived to see his loyalty rewarded by receiving a coveted Cabinet post from President Grant.

"Hello, my boy." Edwin rushed over to Lee, gripped his hand in a firm handshake, then embraced him.

"It's been a long time," Lee said as Edwin released him.

"It has indeed." A sheen of tears sparkled in Edwin's brown eyes. He walked back to his desk and sat down. "I've kept up with your career through the years, up until recently. I know a lot about you, Lee. I know you travel a great deal, that you take needless risks at times, and that you've barely touched the money. I know almost everything about your career. My friends have kept me informed. Allan Pinkerton kept me informed. You're looking very well, my boy. Very well."

"So are you." Lee continued to stand in the doorway, awkwardly gripping the brim of his hat. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he liked and trusted Edwin Carraway and how much he had missed his companionship.

Edwin motioned him forward to a chair. "Now, come in, my boy. Come in and sit down and tell me what brings you to see me after all these years."

Lee sat down on the chair across from the desk and stared at Edwin. For four brief months, from April to July, back in sixty-one, Edwin Carraway had been his father-in-law. And in the twelve years since that time, Lee Kincaid had been ashamed to face his father-in-law. "I've come on business, Edwin. And I've come to ask a favor."

"I see." Edwin sat back in his chair, rested his elbows on the chair arms, and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "I'll do my best to help you, Lee, you know that. Are you still with Pinkerton?"

"Yes," Lee said. "But I'll be retiring soon. I'm working on my last case."

"Tying up loose ends before you move on again?" Edwin asked, probing but not pushing for answers.

Lee took a deep breath. "No, Edwin, this time I'm tying up loose ends before settling down."

Edwin nodded silently.

"What do you know about Senator Warner Millen?" Lee asked.

Carraway smiled. "I heard someone had been asking questions about the late senator, but I had no idea you were in town doing the asking."

"I was asking questions before the senator's death," Lee informed him. "Someone else has been asking questions since his death. But it's nice to know the Washington grapevine is fairly accurate."

"I'd met the man many times," Edwin said. "Socially and once or twice on business. But I can't say I ever actually knew or liked him."