A week later, Josephine and I took the train into Denver. Our aim was to pick out a ring for Quinn and to bring back her mother and sister.
We disembarked at Union Station around noon. Josephine exclaimed over the welcome arch and reached for my hand as we walked across the street amid motor cars and people on bicycles. The noise and bustle of the city jarred my nerves, but Josephine was enthralled. Cables ran all over downtown, and she studied them as we waited for the streetcar, asking questions about how they worked and when they were built, none of which I had precise answers for.
She pressed her nose against the window as we traveled down Sixteenth Street, exclaiming over the buildings and the women’s dresses and hats. We passed by the Metropole Hotel where I planned to take us all for a meal after the Coopers arrived. A sign in front of the hotel read: “Metropole. Absolutely Fireproof.”
“Why would they say that?” Josephine asked.
“Just reassuring us,” I said. Josephine was too young to remember the fires that devastated cities, including Chicago and Seattle. Or the one that burned our own Emerson Pass. “Do you see the brick?” I asked after telling her about the fires of the past. “That’s an example of man learning from his mistakes.”
The jeweler’s name was Mr. Finney, and he had a sharp, thin face with a large nose, which made him look a bit like a mouse. He showed us a variety of rings in both ornate and simple settings. In the end, we agreed on a slim band with a diamond solitaire. “It’s delicate yet shines, like Quinn,” Josephine said.
We had another two hours before the train from Denver came. I took Josephine to the City Park and sat on an iron bench to watch the skaters on the frozen lake. “It’s so big compared to ours,” Josephine said.
“Would you like to move to the city when you grow up?” I asked.
“I don’t think I would like it here. There’s a lot of noise. I’d rather stay home and make a library.”
“A library?”
“I read about it in the paper. Mr. Carnegie will give money to start one as long as the town agrees to fund it afterward.”
“Really?”
“I could be the librarian, and then I’d get to be with books all day long.”
I wrapped my arm around my little bookworm and held her close. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Same, Papa.” She rested her cheek against my shoulder. “Do you think you and Miss Quinn will have babies?”
“I don’t know. These things aren’t always up to us. Would you want us to?”
“Do you think she would still love us if she had a baby of her own?”
“The human heart has capacity for a great many loves. Especially Miss Quinn.”
“What would Fiona think if she were no longer the baby?” Josephine asked, laughing.
“For that reason alone, we should have more.”
We sat watching the skaters go by, quiet and comfortable together until it was time to meet Mrs. Cooper and Annabelle.
I knew them the moment they stepped off the train. Annabelle was tall and more robust than Quinn, with red hair and green eyes. Mrs. Cooper was small and slight, like Quinn, with white hair tucked under her hat.
“There they are, Papa,” Josephine said.
I held up a hand in greeting as we walked toward them. “Mrs. Cooper?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, it’s us.” Mrs. Cooper’s eyes were a lighter shade of brown. Faint lines etched her skin. “You’re as handsome as she said you were.” She turned to Josephine. “She told me so much about you in her letters, Miss Josephine. What a big, brave girl you are to take care of your sisters and brothers.”
Josephine blushed. “Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.”
Mrs. Cooper pulled Josephine in for a hug. “You have to call me Granny.”
“Granny,” Josephine said as they parted. “We’ve never had one of those.”
“And this is Annabelle,” Mrs. Cooper said.
The girls exchanged shy smiles. “Miss Quinn talks about you all the time,” Josephine said. “She thinks you and I will be fast friends.”