sunrise was cause for celebration. As was the dazzling sight of the vast Atlantic Ocean stretching before them. He found joy all around, which made him a joy to be around. People liked Ricky O’Mara because he liked them.
Ellen Cornelius was no exception. Circumstances being what they were, she had honestly expected to dislike him. But it was impossible. The happy-go-lucky Ricky was a naturally sweet, kind, fun-loving man who cared about others. He was so amicable, Ellen wondered why on earth he chose to be friends with the sullen Mister Corey.
Ellen lifted a hand to shade her eyes and said, “Tell me, Ricky, how have you been entertaining yourself these past five days at sea?”
Ricky’s broad grin grew broader still. “Oh, it has been easy. There is so much to do and see. So many delicious meals.” He winked at her and added, “So many pretty women on this ship, Ellen.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” she said dryly. “Anyone in particular that you—”
“No, oh, no,” he said emphatically, shaking his dark head for emphasis. “I love all women.” He flung his long arms out in an encompassing gesture. “I could never love only one.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I am very sure. I will never marry. It wouldn’t be fair, since I could never be a faithful husband.”
“No, no, it wouldn’t,” Ellen said. “At least you know yourself and admit it.”
“Yes, I do. I have never been in love,” he stated, then reasoned, “I am thirty-four. If it hasn’t happened to me by now, it never will.” Laughing then, he touched Ellen’s hand where it gripped the railing and said, “What about you, Ellen? You are Mrs. Cornelius, so you must have been in love once. Will you fall in love again?”
She answered quickly. “Never in a million years.”
She laughed then and Ricky laughed with her. They fell silent for a moment, then Ricky needlessly cleared his throat and said, “Ellen, I know that you do not approve of me, of us, but—”
“I really don’t want to discuss it, Ricky,” she stopped him. “Whether I approve or not is unimportant. You were contracted by my aunt, not by me. My opinion, as usual, is of no value. So, you’d be wasting your time trying to convince me that this upcoming excursion is on the up-and-up.”
“But it is,” he said, his expression earnest. “Padjan knows where—”
“Ricky,” she interrupted, “please. Let’s change the subject.”
Ricky wisely heeded her advice. The disarming smile back on his lips, he said, “You know something? I like you, Ellen Cornelius.”
Ellen raised an eyebrow at him. His flashy grin suggested both his amusement with the world and his fondness for it. And for himself. But on him the expression was somehow boyishly charming.
“I like you too, Ricky.”
In the following days—and nights—Ellen saw Mister Corey and Mademoiselle de Puisaye together regularly. Bristling each time she spotted the laughing French beauty seated beside Mister Corey at dinner, or at a gaming table, or on a railside bench in the moonlight, Ellen reminded herself she was far too sensible to care.
While there was no denying that Mister Corey had a certain menacing charm, Ellen knew instinctively that he had found the kind of woman he preferred in the bold French beauty. The kind of woman he deserved. A woman who was much like himself. A woman who shared his values—or lack thereof. The counterpart to his toughness and vulgarity and sensuality.
They were, Ellen decided, a perfect pair and they had her blessing!
After ten full days at sea, the SS White Star slowly entered the New York harbor. Ellen hadn’t realized how homesick she’d been until she saw the imposing Statue of Liberty rising to meet the clear New York sky.
Once again, Ricky O’Mara stood beside her at the railing. “Glad to be home?” he asked, his dark-eyed gaze on the Manhattan skyline.
“You have no idea,” Ellen said.
“Ah, but I do,” said the smiling man who had been away from his beloved America for more than a year.
Still in her stateroom, Alexandra was giving Mister Corey instructions as the ship inched its cautious way toward the dock, several tugs urging it into its proper berth.
“I will be ready to leave for the West in ten days,” Alexandra told him. “You are to make all the traveling arrangements for the journey. I own a private rail car, but there’s only enough room for Ellen and me, so you will engage additional cars to transport your group.”
“I’ll see to that this very afternoon,” said Mister Corey.
“How far can we travel by train?”
“To Grand Junction, Colorado.”
“And after that?”
“By wagon, on horseback,” said Mister Corey. “And at the very end—on foot.”
“On foot?” Alexandra was nonplussed. “You can’t expect me to walk! Perhaps you are not fully aware of just who I am. I am Alexandra—”
“Doesn’t matter who you are, Miss Landseer. If you want to reach Padjan’s Magic Waters, you may have to walk the last few miles.”
Her face red, an angry Alexandra said, “Don’t ever interrupt me again, young man! And don’t be telling me what I will and will not do. You, sir, are insolent and disrespectful and I’ve half a mind to banish you from my sight right now and let Padjan take care of everything and…” Mister Corey casually got to his feet and walked away. “…what are…wait a minute! You come back here! Where do you think you’re going?”
At the door, Mister Corey paused, turned, looked her squarely in the eye and said, “If you want to dismiss me, that’s your prerogative.”
“Well, now, not so fast,” said Alexandra, suddenly anxious, afraid the highly anticipated expedition might fall apart without the man who was coldly looking at her. “I…I didn’t mean it, really. We need you. I need you. I want you to stay and help guide us to Padjan’s Lost City.”
“Fine. But get this straight, Miss Landseer. I do things my way, not yours. I make decisions based on what will be best for everyone, not just on what will be best for you.” A muscle danced in his lean jaw when he added, “If anyone is to be carried when we reach the rugged, almost impassable gateway into the Lost City, it will be Summer Dawn, not you.”
Alexandra Landseer stared at him, nearly swallowing her tongue. No one had ever talked to her the way this impudent man was talking to her. Her position of power, her great wealth had successfully insulated her from tactless upstarts like him. She was so accustomed to having people grovel to get in her good graces that she couldn’t believe that someone like him, a man who was obviously poor and without resources, would dare challenge her.
“If I escort you to your destination,” continued Mister Corey, “I run the operation. What I say goes. My authority is absolute and will not be questioned and my orders will be obeyed by everyone. Including you. You are no different than any of the others who will be in my charge. Obviously, you are used to bossing people about, but you won’t boss me. Not ever. So, it’s up to you. You have exactly one minute to make up your mind.”
“I want you to stay,” she said meekly, barely audible.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Her voice strengthened and her eyes flashed with anger when she repeated, “I want you to go with us!”
Mister Corey nodded, but he did not come back across the room. “Where are we to stay while we’re in New York?” he asked, and caught the perplexed expression that immediately came into her light-colored eyes. She was, he knew, terrified he might expect that they’d be staying in her home. He knew better, but he said