Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (27 page)

Mabel paused, her hands full of glass bowls, blinking back through her memory.  “I don’t remember hearing anything about a man from Idaho.  There were a lot of wagons and things coming and going round about December.  And….”  She paused and put the bowls down.  “No, I’m sure I’m making that up.”

“Making what up?”  Amelia’s heart raced.

Mabel pursed her lips and brushed her hands on her skirt before saying, “I could have sworn I saw about half a dozen wagons full of cattle leaving one night.  Ike says I’m touched in the head or that I was dreaming.”

“Why?”

“Because no one ships cattle off a ranch in the middle of the night, December or not,” Mabel said as though it was obvious.

“Of course,” Amelia said.  It did seem bizarre.

They each went on with their work, Mabel unpacking the rest of the bowls and Amelia arranging the napkins.  The saloon girls had taken seats in the grass at the very edge of the church yard.  They sat chattering and watching the townswomen work.  Sarah caught Amelia’s eye and waved with childlike enthusiasm.  Heart thumping, Amelia waved back.

“Yes, I suppose there had to be some sort of disagreement,” Mabel went on as though they were still conversing.

“What?”

“Between Curtis and the ranch hands.  I can’t imagine it being anything else.  Which is surprising, really.  Curtis Quinlan never seemed to take a lick of interest in ranching from the moment he and Eric took over from Eric’s parents.”

Amelia’s skin prickled as though she’d made a discovery, but her mind couldn’t sort it out.  There had to be more to uncover.

She had no time to ask more questions.  There was work to be done and the yard was filling up quickly with Cold Springs citizens.  A band arrived and began to play lively music.  Men, women, and children in their Sunday best greeted each other with smiles and handshakes.  Children met their schoo
lmates and rushed off to play.

“Those will be our little ones in a few years,” Mabel said, sending Amelia a wink.  “Living next door to each other, I’m sure they’ll be fast friends up to no good.”

Amelia smiled at the thought and watched the children running past with a pang in her heart.  If the truth never came out, all of this beauty could be hers.  She could be a part of this.  If Sarah could be reformed, perhaps she had a chance.  Perhaps if she….

“Aren’t you looking … fine, Mrs. Quinlan, Mabel,” the sharp voice of Jacinta Archer tugged Amelia back from the verge of changing her mind about a great many things.

Amelia and Mabel exchanged a covert look of trouble.  Jacinta stood before them in a bright green dress spilling over with flounces.  It was too garish for even Amelia’s mother to approve of.  Jacinta’s carrot-red hair was tied up in a fashionable style that was far too big for her head.  But it was the taut smile that touched Jacinta’s lips only that filled Amelia with dread.

“Miss Archer,” Amelia greeted her with respect she usually saved for the high nobility.  There was no sense in exacerbating the situation between them.  “You’re looking lovely this evening yourself.”

“Thank you,” Jacinta said.  “I had this dress specially made in Chicago.”

“Oh.”  Mabel blinked rapidly.  “Specially made by Sears and Roebuck?”

“I order all of my clothing from the finest designers,” Jacinta replied to the slight with acid sweetness.  “Why, I even have dresses that are imported from abroad.”  Jacinta gave Amelia a coy grin before going on to say, “I am so disturbed by the unpleasant start our friendship had.”

If Amelia had been sitting down to tea with the woman she would have choked.  “Oh?” was all she could manage in response.  She stole a glance at Mabel, who shrugged, as baffled as she was.

“Yes.  It was pure shock on my part.  Pure shock at learning Eric, someone I have regarded so highly for these many years now, had married.  I don’t know what happened to my manners.”  She laughed, a sound like cheap chalk in the schoolroom.  “I do hope you can forgive me.”

“Why … I … I suppose I can.”

“It was so very unlike me,” Jacinta went on.  Mabel snorted.  Jacinta narrowed her eyes, but softened her features a moment later.  She focused on Amelia.  “I’m usually the first of the first to introduce myself to Cold Springs’s newcomers, whatever their situations.  We should be the closest of friends.”

“Oh,” Amelia fumbled.  “Yes.”

“Why, I have had so many people ask me who the lovely Englishwoman that my Eric – excuse me – that Eric brought home with him is.”  Amelia could hardly wade through the false sweetness of every word Jacinta said.  “All I’ve been able to tell them is that she is Eric’s wife.  What a silly thing that is to say.”  She followed her comment with dagger-sharp laughter.

There had to be a way to dismiss Jacinta and go on with her work.  Jacinta reminded Amelia a little too much of Curtis, as if they were cut from the same cloth.

Which meant that, Jacinta, of all people, might know more about Eric and Curtis.

“How long have you known Eric?” she asked with as much pretend friendliness as Jacinta.

“Oh, I’ve known him for years.”  Jacinta waved away the conversation.  “Years!  He was one of the first gentlemen to speak to me when my family moved to Cold Springs.  Sweet as plum punch, he was.  I suppose he was the same with you when you met.  Where did you meet?  I mean specifically.”

A flash of anxiety spilled through Amelia.  “I….”  She hesitated, loathe to answer.

“Yes, where did you meet?” Mabel asked, as curious as Jacinta.

Panic coiled through Amelia as she glanced from her friend to her enemy.  She couldn’t tell one without revealing things she wanted to forget to the other.  The friendly curiosity in Mabel’s eyes was too much.

“I met Eric at the home of Mr. Roger Hamilton,” Amelia answered as briefly as possible.  She scrambled for a way back to what she needed to find out.  “So I suppose you’ve known Curtis Quinlan as long as you’ve known Eric.”

“You suppose rightly.”  Jacinta nodded.  “I suppose you met Eric at a fancy ball or some such, dancing until midnight, well past the rules of propriety.”  She laughed again.  “I suppose you’re some grand lady of high standing, like in a fairytale.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” Mabel interjected.  “Are you a real lady?  Do you have a title and a castle?  Have you met the queen?”

Amelia would have winced if she didn’t think it would offend Mabel.

“My father was a marquess.  I met the queen at my coming out.”

Mabel gasped.  Even Jacinta looked grudgingly impressed.  Amelia didn’t give her time to dwell on it.  Sh
e pressed on with her mission.

“Have you been out to Eric’s ranch before, Jacinta?  I saw it for the first time the other day.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been there frequently,” Jacinta answered.  “I was expecting it to be my home, after all.  I came to know and love that land.”  She heaved a dramatic sigh before going on with, “But I’m sure you know how that can be.  I’m sure you were destined to inherit some great property due to your father’s great, good name.  What was his name?”

“Oh yes,” Mabel added, eyes aglow.  “What was his name?  It was something grand and princely, I suppose.”

Amelia’s hands and feet went numb.  Her heart beat in desperation against her ribs.  Names were dangerous things.  The sparkle in Jacinta’s eyes said she knew it.

“My father was the Marquess of Horsham,” she answered with as little information as she could.  “But no, women do not inherit.”  Before Jacinta or Mabel could ask any more questions to condemn her, Amelia shot on with, “I’m so interested in hearing more about Eric and Curtis’s ranch.  Do they really co-own it?  How does that work?”

“I’m not sure.  Oh look!  It’s your friend Charlie West.  She does look like she needs help, as fat, I mean, as large with child as she is, doesn’t she?  Why don’t you go help her.”

As quickly as she’d arrived, Jacinta spun away and shuffled into the crowd.

“Bless me, that woman doesn’t know if she’s coming or going half the time,” Mabel said, shaking her head.  “Always up to something, never seeing what’s right in front of her.”

Amelia hummed in reply.  She had a horrible feeling that this time Jacinta knew exactly what was right in front of her.  If only Mabel hadn’t been there to press things, Amelia would have kept her mouth firmly shut.  She trembled to think what Jacinta cou
ld do with what she’d learned.

“I’d better go help Charlie,” she mumbled, leaving Mabel.

She cut across the lawn, dodging a gang of racing children as she did, certain that every set of eyes was on her.

“Are you sure you should be out this evening?” she asked when she reached Charlie and Michael’s side.

“That’s exactly what I said to her,” Michael said.

“Yes, dear, but you hate these social events and would use anything as an excuse not to go,” Charlie answered.

“True,” Michael replied with a shrug.  He smiled and kissed his wife’s cheek.  “I’ll fetch you some ice cream.”

Michael headed off toward the table where Delilah and Mrs. Twitchel stood scooping ice cream.  Amelia glanced between him and Charlie, a warm knot forming in her chest.  She’d never seen anything like them before, two people completely in love and so kind to each other.  It made her heart beat with possibility.  If she could only….

A gale of sharp laughter split the peaceful air as the saloon girls hopped up from their seats at the side of the yard.  They sashayed around the edge of the field, making eyes at Cold Springs citizens, even as one or two of those citizens approached them to tell them off.

“We’re not in the church yard,” one of the women hollered across the distance.  “We’re in the field.  There’s nothing that says we can’t stand in the field and watch.”

“Yeah, you like to watch too, don’t you,” another of the girls called.

Amelia blushed to her toes.

“Every time,” Charlie sighed.  “Every time we have any sort of social event, the saloon girls show up.”

“So I’ve heard,” Amelia said, her voice wavering.  “Couldn’t they be asked to leave?”  On the one hand, it didn’t seem fair.  But on the other, it would be a relief to have the reminder of her true nature removed.

“Oh, I’m sure they could,” Charlie said.  “Granted, Kent Porter won’t do anything about it.  He’s as afraid of the girls as much as anyone else.  Besides, they know too much about him.  I think he’s afraid they’ll kiss and tell.”

Charlie sent her a saucy wink, but it had the exact opposite effect than she intended.  Amelia wanted to sink into the ground.

“I suppose people in Cold Springs are … unforgiving when it comes to those sorts of secrets being spilled.”

Charlie laughed and looped her arm through Amelia’s.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

Amelia pressed a hand to her stomach.  Her dreams and nightmares were waltzing together in that churchyard.

“Are you all right?” Charlie asked.  “You went all pale for a second there.”

Amelia sucked in a breath and tried to smile.  Charlie was so kind to her.  If things were different she could have considered her a dear friend.

“It’s all just a trifle overwhelming sometimes,” she made her excuse.

“Tell me about it.”  Charlie patted her arm.  “I was lucky to have Michael in my corner from the first moment I arrived here.  Cold Springs is such a tight community.  Sometimes it’s hard to break in.  But you’ve got Eric on your side.”

“Yes.”  Amelia took a steadying
breath.  That was the problem.

“I know what you need.”  Charlie hugged her arm.  “You need ice cream.  It is remarkably restorative stuff.  Come on.”

Charlie pulled her forward, proceeding on to the ice cream table where Michael had nearly reached the front of the line.  For the barest moment Amelia felt almost normal.  She prayed it would last.

The congenial jumble of Cold Springs’s citizens talking and laughing and slurping ice cream was exactly the release Eric needed after the last couple of days of mystification.  A band was playing homey tunes off to one side and children were running around screeching on the other.  Everything was relaxed and sociable.  Nothing needed fixing, no cattle needed rounding up and feeding, and most of all, everyone who was supposed to be there was exactly where they were supposed to be, Amelia included.

Amelia was arm in arm with Charlie, showing her to a bench where they could both sit to eat the ice cream Michael was holding for them.  Michael looked about as tamed as a sheep in the sunshine as he took orders from Charlie.  Why that should make him green with envy was beyond Eric.  The thought that Amelia had made a fast friend in his friend’s wife warmed his heart.  With any luck it was warming hers as well.

Knowing Amelia was pleasantly occupied gave him a chance to scan the rest of the crowd and catch up with Cold Springs goings on.

“What the hell is Kent Porter doing mooning around Polly Jones like that?” he asked Christian as the two of them and Phin stood by the edge of the gathering, arms crossed.

“She’s Polly Porter now,” Christian informed him.  “They got married at Christmas.”

“Them two?”  Eric guffawed.  “Neither one of them’s got a backbone between then.”

As if to emphasize his point, a rowdy cry rose up from a group of red-headed men trying to impress a few of the town’s light-skirts.  The girls were up to their usual hijinks, poking fun at the more upstanding citizens in the churchyard.  Kent Porter, Sheriff Kent Porter, sent them a sideways look before hurrying his flighty wife to the far side of the crowd.