Then another door slammed, and Sam heard Waddell’s crooning murmur from behind the closed doors of the library. Presently, he and Gabrielle appeared in the dining room. Her face was flushed, and she would not meet his eye. She said, “Bessie’s down at the market. I’ll serve the lunch.”

While she busied herself in the kitchen, Waddell poured them both glasses of iced tea from a pitcher on the sideboard. “I hope you’ve thought about what I said.”

“Of course. But I still don’t understand why you need me.”

“Things are starting to happen. When they’re done happening, this will be a different city. The old virtues will matter again—loyalty, honor.”

Sam sipped his tea. God, he was beginning to hate the stuff.

“I’ll be frank,” Waddell said. “My own son—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Let me finish. A man wants to be remembered. To pass on his legacy. I have a son, but he is no good to me. No good at all. I need someone I can count on.”

“To tell your story.”

“Somebody who has mettle, who is not easily swayed. You were in Cuba—you won’t flinch.”

Sam shrugged. It was easy to watch other men being brave, even in Cuba. “A lot of men fit that description.”

Waddell waved a hand. “Not as many as you’d think. Not like the old days.” He wagged a finger. “But you—I saw it in your eyes that first day on the train. You would not meddle in other men’s business, until it was a matter of personal honor.”

When the Red Shirt had grabbed Gray Ellen. Given another chance, Sam knew now, he might take sides sooner.

“Mainly, I need someone who has no debts.” Waddell waited for it to sink in. “Someone who is not connected to the regimes of the past.”

“Hugh MacRae—my cousin, remember?”

“I can work with Hugh. But I need a sort of protégé, if you take my meaning.”

“I already have a job. I don’t have any training in the law.”

Waddell smiled. “What you need to learn, I can teach you.”

“If I go along?”

“Keep on writing for Tom Clawson. When the time is right, I’ll call for you.” He moved very close to Sam. “I’ll only call once. After that, events will pass you by.”

Sam nodded. He was tempted to make a declaration of allegiance here and now. All his career, he had been dogged by bad luck, bad timing, bad habits. Chicago had been his first big chance. Then going to Cuba with the army. He’d fouled up both.