“The undertaker Lyman Beck, rancher Randolph Nelson who also heads up the Republicans, and Heath Leary.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him.”
“You haven’t. He’s a gambler. Owns the Irish Rose, the saloon behind Miller’s store.”
That was surprising.
“You go to the meeting, Anna and I will stay here. Maybe we’ll ride over and see Spring.”
The meeting was held at the bank. When Regan entered she was reminded of the court hearing and the part she didn’t get to play, but put it out of her mind as her eyes swept the room. She recognized Arnold Cale, Chauncey Miller, and undertaker Lyman Beck. The man seated next to Beck had a sun-lined, weathered face that said rancher, so she assumed him to be Republican Randolph Nelson. To Nelson’s right sat one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. Jet-black hair, eyes that matched. The smart tailored suit and frilled white shirt were the attire of a gambler. The smile he shot her was one that had been stealing women’s hearts since the day he was born. Not wanting to be caught by whatever web he was spinning, she spotted Dovie, Lucretia, and Glenda seated near the front of the room and went to join them.
Glenda said, “It’s good seeing you again, Regan.”
Shaking off the effects of the gambler, she replied, “Same here.” She glanced around. Other than her new friends there were only four people in the room—all men. “Where’s everyone?” she asked.
“These meetings are never well-attended,” Lucretia explained.
“Unless there’s something sensational like last year’s proposal to keep the Chinese from moving in,” Dovie added bitterly.
“Did it pass?”
“No,” Glenda said. “It was tabled, but other towns are weighing similar measures.”
Regan thought back on the man she’d purchased the fans from the day of the court hearing and wondered where he lived. The local papers out of Cheyenne and Laramie were filled with slur-laden headlines and inflammatory editorials accusing the Chinese of stealing jobs from the Territory’s White miners. Rather than spew their anger at the Union Pacific Railroad for hiring them, it was directed at the Chinese workers instead.
Arnold Cale’s voice brought her back. “Let’s get this meeting under way.”
What followed was a dry recitation by Council Vice President Chauncey Miller on what transpired at last month’s meeting: a proposal to raise money for a town hall that was tabled; a proposal to allow Miller and Leary to expand their buildings that was approved. A proposal to give schoolteacher Kerry Adams a raise in pay that was denied.
The mayor looked out at the women and said, “I’m assuming you ladies are here to tell us again how wrongheaded we are for not approving the raise?”
Dovie stood. “Yes, and to ask who on the council is going to teach our children now that Kerry Adams is taking a teaching position in Cheyenne?”
Regan noted Nelson’s shocked face. “When’s he leaving?”
“Today was his last day.”
His jaw tightened. “Did you know about this?” he asked Cale.
Cale fidgeted a bit. “He mentioned that he might be, but I thought he was bluffing.”
“He was a good man.”
Dovie agreed. “He was. So, now what?”
Before anyone could respond, Glenda stood and asked, “How is Paradise supposed to attract the people needed to use this new town hall you’re so fired up about building when you don’t have a school?”
Miller said, “Who said you need a school to build a town?”
“Schools bring families, Chauncey. Families build towns. And stores.”
His eyes blazed but Glenda didn’t appear the least bit intimidated.
Her husband said, “Now, Glenda, let’s not be disrespectful.”
“I’m not being disrespectful by speaking what everyone already knows, Arnold.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Dovie cut him off. “This is not a difficult decision, gentlemen. Either you want Paradise to prosper or you don’t. And if you don’t, I’ll be moving my business and son to a place that does.”