He was much taller than she and appeared to be just as eager to speak to the attorney.
Before long, Jude stopped in front of an unremarkable building and pushed open the door. He held it for her to enter and she passed by with nary a glance in his direction.
The law office of Roald Hall was not much to speak of. A wide desk, two bookshelves and a few wooden chairs were the only items in the room.
But the man behind the desk lit up the space with a gregarious smile. “Welcome! Come on in.” He stood and waved them inside. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He looked at Elizabeth, his grin growing wider.
“Roald, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Bell.” Jude nodded at Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth, this is Mr. Hall—my attorney.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Elizabeth offered her hand.
“Bell?” Mr. Hall shook her hand and looked from Jude to Elizabeth. “As in Clarence Bell?”
“Clarence was my father,” Elizabeth said.
Jude planted his feet and crossed his arms. “I wasn’t aware of it, but apparently Clarence had three daughters, and according to Miss Elizabeth he sent a letter from his deathbed bequeathing his share of the hotel to them.”
Mr. Hall rubbed his square jaw, his gaze assessing Elizabeth. “Do you have the letter?”
She dug it out of her pocket and handed it to the attorney, her hands shaking as she clasped them together. Her future depended on that letter. It was the most precious and valuable thing she owned at the moment—yet, was it enough?
Mr. Hall read the letter, nodding now and again as he perused its contents. Finally, he lowered the paper and looked at Elizabeth. “I don’t see why this letter wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.”
She wanted to collapse in relief.
“However, you’ll have to gather several other documents to prove you are Clarence’s heir. You’ll need your birth certificate and his death certificate for starters. You’ll also need to find documents with his handwriting to prove he wrote this letter.” He handed it back to Elizabeth, his face grim. “It could take months, or even up to a year to gather everything you need and present it to a judge.”
“A—a year?”
“Not to mention a great deal of money for legal fees.”
She didn’t have a penny to her name. How would she pay for legal fees?
“And,” Mr. Hall continued, “until then, Mr. Allen isn’t required to house you and your sisters. You’ll need to find somewhere to live.”
Elizabeth sank into a chair nearby and tried not to let panic overwhelm her. She’d been in a similar situation right after her father had left, before she found work with Mr. Brown. She had been so desperate to keep her sisters alive and there hadn’t been any work to speak of, she’d almost sacrificed her virtue. Would she be required to make that choice again?
* * *
Jude watched Elizabeth collapse into the chair, her shoulders rolling forward in defeat. She hadn’t received the news she’d hoped for—yet neither had he. It was clear these were Clarence’s daughters and they had nowhere else to go. He wouldn’t sit back and let the worst happen to them, no matter what it might cost his business. What kind of a man would he be? Especially when he spent his life protecting defenseless women just like her.
The Bell sisters weren’t all that different from the others, after all. They were victims of their circumstances and forced to make the best of their lives. Some women went into prostitution to provide for themselves and their families—but Elizabeth had been able to avoid that trap. She was clutching her father’s letter as if it was a lifeline, and in many ways, it was.
“I have a proposition, Elizabeth.”
She glanced up, yet didn’t really look at him.
“I have no doubt Clarence wrote that letter,” Jude said, “and regardless if it’s binding or not, I’d like to propose a solution.”
“What?” Her gaze finally focused on his face, though mistrust lay deep in her eyes.
Roald also looked at Jude, though with more calculation than Elizabeth.
“Shall we take a walk and discuss the terms of the agreement?” Jude asked her.
“W-What kind of an agreement?” She stood slowly and looked at him like he was about to propose a tryst.
“It’s a proper agreement,” he said quickly. “I’ll not ask anything immoral of you.”
Her cheeks filled with color and he looked away from her. If only she knew who she was talking to.
Elizabeth offered her hand to Roald. “It was nice to meet you.”
Roald bent over her hand in a great show of aplomb. “The pleasure was all mine. I do hope we meet again soon.”
Could Roald be the one who would capture Elizabeth’s attention? It wouldn’t be a bad match. Roald was loud and boisterous, but he made a decent living and was a good man. Yet he didn’t seem right for Elizabeth. She was almost regal in her bearing and she deserved someone who would complement her graciousness and not draw all the attention, as Roald was wont to do.
Jude opened the door and waited until Elizabeth passed.
“Sorry for troubling you,” he said to Roald.
Roald’s eyes were on Elizabeth. “No trouble at all.”
Jude joined Elizabeth on the boardwalk. She watched him warily and he wondered if she had trusted any man since her father left her.
“What is your proposition, Mr. Allen?”
The street bustled with people and several men stop to stare at Elizabeth. “Would you like to take a walk as we discuss my idea?”
She nodded and he led her up Broadway, past the Northern and toward the river.
“I am sorry about your loss,” he began. “And I’m sorry that your father left the way he did. I wish he would have told me about you and let me know he was offering his share of the hotel to you, but he didn’t and I’ve made plans and adjustments accordingly.”
She was silent as she walked beside him. He wished he knew what she was thinking.
“So I have a proposition. I will allow you and your sisters to continue living at the Northern, if you work for your room and board—”
“My father didn’t intend for us to simply work there,” she said with frustration in her voice. “He intended for us to be owners.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” He tipped his hat at an acquaintance, but didn’t stop to chat, though the young man looked like he wanted an introduction. “This town is rough—too rough for a sensible woman. I don’t know what your father was thinking when he wrote that letter. The frontier is no place for an unmarried lady to make
