She had spent hours working on the right phrases, the right tones. He couldn’t leave this party thinking she was a liar and a cheat. It felt as though her whole life depended on it. She handed off her keys to the valet and started up the stone steps. The mansion looked as gorgeous as always, strong and sturdy, built to show the wealth and prosperity of turn-of-the-century Denver. Every time she visited, she felt another wave of awe. It looked like the party was in full swing and people milled everywhere. She glanced up at the balconies and noted the figures huddled in groups. It was a great party if people braved the freezing temperatures for a breather in the night air. One hand went to her mama’s pin on her jacket. It calmed her just a bit, and she whispered a prayer. Please, Lord, be with us. She dodged a slow-moving couple and glanced up, one hand holding her dress so she didn’t step on the hem. And she saw him just a foot away, standing cold and aloof in the shadow of a pillar.
