As Love Blooms (18 page)

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Authors: Lorna Seilstad

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction

BOOK: As Love Blooms
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“Be careful, Tessa.”

Whipped by the wind, the waves crashed against the bandstand’s footings, sending a misty spray in the air, but she didn’t pull away. “Oh, Reese, can you smell the rain? It smells like summer.”

He joined her at the railing, and she stood back up and leaned against one of the pillars. He passed her one of the frankfurters and set the Cokes on the wide handrail. “Speaking of summer, do you have plans for Memorial Day?”

“I’m marching in the parade with my Aunt Sam and the other ladies to support suffrage. You do support a woman’s right to vote, don’t you?”

He grinned and took a swig of Coke. “If I didn’t, would you make me walk the plank?”

She covered one eye as if she were wearing a patch. “Argh, I would, matey.”

“You make a mighty fine pirate, Miss Gregory.”

“Thank you. Now, where were we?” She tapped her finger against her mouth. “Oh, Memorial Day. After the parade, I think we’ll attend Senator Ferrell’s commemorative address on the steps of the capitol to honor those who’ve served.” A flicker of recognition showed on Reese’s face. “Do you know the senator?”

“How would I know a senator, Tessa?” He cocked his head.

Odd. It was the first time she didn’t believe him.

“So, Reese, what are you doing for Memorial Day? Do you have to work?” She took a bite of her frankfurter.

“No, but Mr. Nussbaumer asked me to go to some function with him.”

“Oh.” She could hear the disappointment in her own voice.

He began to chuckle.

“Why are you laughing?”

He chucked a finger under her chin and thumbed something away. Mustard? “There. Perfect once again.”

Perfect. If only he meant it.

A crack of thunder startled her and she jolted. The earlier heat from the day seemed to have vanished in a whoosh, and she shivered against the chill.

Reese took his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. “Better?”

She nodded and let the warmth of the jacket hug her. As wonderful as it was, it was a poor substitute for Reese’s arms. “I believe you promised me a ghost story.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?” He took her hand and drew her toward one of the band’s benches.

“Of course not.”

“Good, because this isn’t really about ghosts. It does, however, involve bones.” He washed down the last bite of frankfurter with a swallow of Coke. “Years ago, a man named August Robertson was out hunting muskrats in the winter. He found a box sticking out of the ice in the middle of Lake Como.”

“The bones were in it, right?” She twisted on the bench so she could face him. “But how did they get there?”

“Be patient and I’ll tell you.” He glanced over her shoulder toward the lake. “You’re right about the box containing bones. The news of the discovery spread all over. There was a lot of speculation about murder and such. They even opened an inquest.”

She leaned forward. “And?”

“And someone stepped forward to explain the whole story.” He shrugged and leaned back against the bench.

“That’s it?” She swatted his arm playfully. “There has to be more.”

“It might scare you to know the truth.”

“Do I look like someone who is scared of anything?”

His eyes crinkled with his laughter. “No, I can’t say that you do.”

“Then spill the rest of the story.”

He stood and walked toward the railing. “Apparently the bones had been given to a young doctor by the Minnesota surgeon general. The doctor was the surgeon general’s nephew, and he was fresh out of medical college and in need of a skeleton.”

“But who did the bones belong to?”

“Charlie Pitts.”

“Should I know that name?”

He returned to his seat and draped his arm over the back of the bench. “No, but you’ll recognize who he ran with. Charlie rode with the Jesse James gang.”

“The very one?” Tessa pressed her hand to her chest.

“Is there another?” Reese laid his hand on her shoulder. “After they robbed the First National Bank of Northfield, Charlie was one of four of the gang members who a posse caught up with near Madelia. He was shot, and they packed his dead body in ice and put it on display at the state capitol.”

“But how did the bones end up here?”

“The young doctor had left the bones in Lake Como for a year to bleach them clean, but then he went West, and they found the box while he was gone.” He squeezed her shoulder. “And yes, some say Charlie Pitts’s ghost still haunts the lake.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is. But you know how a person’s imagination can run away with him or her.”

Did she ever. Her own had let her believe this man had feelings for her, and yet here in this romantic spot, he’d done little to indicate that.

He stood and offered her his hand. “The rain’s stopped. I’d better get you home.”

She let him pull her to her feet. “I can ride the streetcar.”

“No, Tessa.” He held her hand tighter. “I
want
to take you home. There’s something I need to ask you.”

“What?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. He’d said he
wanted
to take her home, and she was not imagining he’d stressed the word.

He tapped her nose. “Be patient.”

“Sorry. I have an insatiable desire to know things.”

He offered her his arm. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

By the time they pulled into the drive at Aunt Sam’s, Tessa had almost forgotten Reese intended to ask her a question. Well, not really, but she’d tried to put the thought out of her mind.

Conversation came so easily to the two of them—as if they’d been friends forever. Friends. There was that word again. Did she dare hope they might be moving beyond that?

After parking the Model T, Reese came around to her side and helped her out. He followed her onto the porch, and she turned to him when they reached the enormous front door. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Tessa, don’t pretend you’ve forgotten about the question I wanted to ask you, because we both know you haven’t.”

Air whooshed from her lips. “Oh, cheese and crackers, I’ve tried to be good and not question you, but it’s so hard.”

He laughed, a full, warm sound that made her smile. “I may not be able to enjoy Memorial Day with you, but I was hoping I could take you to the Indian Mounds tomorrow.”

Tomorrow! Tessa felt the blood drain from her face. Please, not the day she’d promised to help Edward. Her mind whirled. How could she get out of her plans with Edward?

Reese jammed his hands in his pockets. “Listen, if you don’t want to—”

“No, no, I do, but I have a prior commitment for tomorrow.”

“I see.” He seemed mesmerized by the diamond tile pattern on the porch.

“What about Sunday?” she blurted out. How desperate could she sound?

A slow smile spread across his face. “Sunday would work fine too. Do you want to join me for church services? Then after lunch, I want to take you someplace I think you’ll enjoy.”

“The Indian Mounds?”

“Not this time. I have something else in mind.” He swallowed. “Is that a yes?”

“Reese, that sounds delightful. I’d love to.”

He tucked his knuckle beneath her chin again.

“More mustard?” She bit her lip.

“Not exactly.” His look gave her goose bumps. He brushed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “See you Sunday, Tessa Gregory.”

She watched him drive away before turning toward the house. Touching her lips, she sighed. This was not a figment of her imagination. It was 100 percent real.

 16 

Tessa would wonder where Sam had gone, but the fact her niece had been late getting home had proved quite advantageous. Sam stilled her hands in her lap and watched the buildings in downtown Saint Paul pass by—the Pioneer Press Building, the Germania Bank, and the Federal Post Office and Court House. She willed her breathing to slow and reminded herself she’d eaten with James Ferrell many times. But that had been lunch, and this was dinner. Why did this seem like such a significant difference?

Sam glanced down at her Grecian-style evening gown. Was it too dated? She’d not purchased a new one in quite a while. She smiled. Why was she worried? James would probably be thrilled when she arrived not dressed in bloomers.

Henry pulled the Cadillac to a stop in front of the Ryan Hotel on Sixth and Robert. Dressed in a black dinner suit with satin facings, James opened her car door and helped her out. “I was beginning to fear you weren’t coming.”

“I was beginning to fear I wasn’t coming either.” She turned toward the car. “Return for me at nine, Henry.”

James leaned over the window. “But if we’re not here, don’t wait for her.”

“Senator Ferrell, I told you—”

“I know exactly what you said. I hang on your every word.” He
took her gloved hand and bowed over it. “Have I told you that you look stunning, Samantha?”

“I find that hard to believe, but I do like the sound of it, so thank you.” She touched the coif she’d allowed her maid to subject her to. At least her hat with its mass of plumes was new and covered most of her silvery hair.

James tapped the door of the Cadillac, and Henry drove away. “It looks like you’re all mine for the evening, Samantha.” He offered her his arm. “Are you ready to go inside?”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll have them bring a table out here so that we can picnic under the stars.”

“You will not make a spectacle of me. I reserve that particular right for myself.” She placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “And you can turn off the charm, James. We’ve known each other far too long for all of that.”

He covered her hand with his own and escorted her into the hotel. “Ah, but you secretly love it.”

She gave him a humph and he laughed. But inside her heart swelled. It had been so long since she’d been treated like a lady. And she did love every word.

Lord,
please guard my heart.

Where was Aunt Sam?

Tessa searched the parlor and Aunt Sam’s bedchamber, but to no avail. She’d even questioned the maid, but the girl insisted that Aunt Sam had simply gone out for the evening. What if something was wrong? What if Aunt Sam was being held hostage by some nefarious character? Didn’t the maid realize that her aunt didn’t go places at night without leaving some sort of message?

Message. That was it. Tessa hurried to the writing desk in the study and glanced at the papers on its surface. Aunt Sam was fastidious
about keeping a calendar. It had to be here somewhere. She rummaged through one stack and then another. Maybe she should phone Hannah or Charlotte. They’d want to know Aunt Sam was missing.

She pulled open the desk drawers one by one. In the upper left-hand drawer, a leather-bound book caught her eye. Complete with gilt decorations, the calendar had a page for each month of the year. She flipped to today’s date, Friday, May 23, and scanned the page.

Dinner with old friend. 7 p.m., Ryan Hotel

Tessa closed the calendar and put it back in the drawer. She sank into the desk chair and released her breath in a whoosh. At least Aunt Sam was safe.

Questions began to swirl in Tessa’s mind like the waves in the lake earlier today. Who was this old friend? Why hadn’t she written the person’s name down? And most of all, why hadn’t she said anything to Tessa earlier?

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