Part 11 (2/2)
Daisy was feeling the strain of confinement. She was also feeling overpowered by her sense of guilt. It all had to do with Tyler, but she wasn't going to admit her feelings for him were so strong they had caused her to do something that crazy. She didn't want to admit she had run away to escape his disapproval. Nor would she admit she didn't mind so much being here anymore. That raised too many questions she couldn't answer.
She longed to see Adora, to ask if she had ever felt this way. But after living such a sheltered and uneventful life, she doubted Adora would understand the conflicting feelings which raged in her breast. She knew Adora's brother wouldn't. Guy Cochrane had always admired Daisy for her calm, level-headed approach to life. He would never be able to understand the feelings that had driven her to flee into a snowstorm.
Neither could Daisy, but she couldn't concentrate enough to figure them out, not with Tyler and Zac almost within arms' reach. She needed more privacy than she could find behind her blanket. She needed to be safe in Adora's bedroom, miles from Tyler's disconcerting presence.
She was also bored by the long hours of inactivity. She was so restless she couldn't sit still to read. She had to do something or go crazy. ”I have an idea,” she announced. ”Let's tell our secret dreams.”
”Our what?” Zac asked.
”Our secret dreams. It's one of the things Mother and I used to do on dull days.”
”I don't have any.”
”Sure you do. Everybody does.”
”They're not secret because he's told everybody,” Tyler explained.
”He hasn't told me.”
”Why would I want to?”
”Because you're bored. You've dealt yourself a top hand and you didn't even noticed.”
Zac looked at his cards, shrugged, laid them down. ”I want to go to New Orleans and be a gambler on a river boat,” he said.
Daisy's smile disappeared. ”I'm not going to do this if you're going to make fun of me.”
”I'm not making fun.”
”Yes, you are. n.o.body wants to do anything as stupid as that.”
”I tried to tell him that,” Tyler said from across the cabin. ”So did George.”
”It's not stupid,” Zac protested, irritated. ”Prospecting for gold you'll never find or staying in this G.o.dforsaken territory, marrying a dirt-poor rancher and raising a dozen kids -- now that's stupid.”
”Okay,” Daisy said, willing to placate Zac, ”you want to be a river boat gambler. What then?”
”What do you mean what then?”
”There's got to be something else. You can't want to do nothing but gamble.”
”What else should I want to do?”
Daisy couldn't believe Zac was serious. Instinctively she looked to Tyler.
”He's telling the truth,” Tyler confirmed. ”His only ambition is to become a successful parasite.”
”A spectacularly successful one,” Zac amended, not the least abashed.
”What about you?” Daisy asked Tyler.
”I don't want anything.”
”Yes, you do,” Zac said.
”What?” Daisy asked, but Tyler wouldn't speak.
”He wants to build fancy hotels,” Zac informed her. ”He's up here looking for gold to pay for them.”
Chapter Nine.
Tyler closed his book with a snap, an involuntary action he immediately regretted. He would have preferred Daisy not know how much Zac's words irritated him. Neither did he want to explain his dream to her. He wondered how, in such a short s.p.a.ce of time, she had come to expect to be allowed into the private world of his mind. He wondered how he had come to consider letting her in.
Daisy was watching him, waiting expectantly. He remained silent.
”Aren't you going to say anything?”
”What do you want to know?”
”Where you're going to build your hotels. What they'll be like. I love hotels.”
Tyler knew what he wanted right down to the last detail, yet he was reluctant to tell Daisy. If he did, it wouldn't be his dream anymore. Yet it was pointless to remain silent. Nothing short of strangulation would prevent Zac from telling everything he knew. ”I want to build hotels in Denver and San Francisco every bit as luxurious as anything in New York.”
Daisy looked shocked. ”I imagine a plain, clean room is all most people would want.”
”Tyler doesn't care about most people,” Zac explained. ”He means to please himself.”
”But what if n.o.body else wants the same thing?” Daisy asked, apparently unable to believe anyone would build an entire hotel just to satisfy himself.
”They can stay somewhere else,” Tyler said.
”But that's crazy,” Daisy exclaimed. ”You'll go broke in a month.”
Tyler felt like he'd been dashed with a bucket of ice water.
”Uh oh, now you've made him mad,” Zac said.
”Have I?” Daisy asked.
”No,” Tyler replied, but he was afraid he gave the lie to his denial by asking, ”How does living in The Centennial or Post's Exchange Hotel a few days a year make you an expert on what people in Denver and San Francisco might want?”
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