The Bride's Prerogative (58 page)

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Authors: Susan Page Davis

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“Oh?” Libby asked. “You got conclusive news?”

“Seems so to me. I telegraphed the territorial governor’s office in Boise after I got the letter from Frank’s sister. She’s married but never had any children. And there was one more Peart sister, but she died before she was twenty. Mrs. Cochran, who wrote the letter, said that despite what this cowpoke Sterling told me, Frank didn’t have any nephews.”

“How about that.” Libby nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes. Wilfred Sterling wasn’t too happy. He still claims there’s been a mistake, but I let him know I’d be watching to make sure no one tries to squat on the land or anything like that.”

“I wonder how he came to work for my uncle,” Isabel said.

“So do I.” Ethan helped himself to one of Trudy’s icicle pickles. “And now Mr. Smith is courting Mrs. Caplinger.”

“What?”
Isabel stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said. “I guess we didn’t mention it. The man Rose is dining with tonight is your uncle.”

CHAPTER 28

I
sabel couldn’t breathe. She crumpled her napkin in her fist and pressed it to her chest. How could a woman as dainty as Rose Caplinger find Uncle Kenton attractive?

“Are you all right?” Libby asked, leaning so close that Isabel could see dark violet flecks in her blue eyes.

“I—yes—no.” Isabel gasped and lunged for her cup of water. She inhaled instead of swallowing and began to cough.

Libby slapped her daintily on the back. Trudy was not so gentle. She slapped Isabel smartly between the shoulder blades.

She sucked in a deep breath and held up both hands. “I’m all right.”

They all stared at her. True, their faces held concern, but still she felt like a sideshow exhibit.

“I … I thought she was interested in someone else.”

“Who? Dr. Kincaid?” Trudy shook her head. “I daresay she likes him, but he’s living on a shoestring just now. Rose wants someone who can support her. The rancher came a-calling, and she accepted his invitation. I can’t think it’s serious, though. Not yet.”

Isabel looked frantically to Libby. She smiled and said quietly, “No dear, not the one you were thinking of.”

“But … but Starr Tinen said …”

“I know.” Libby bent to retrieve Isabel’s napkin from the floor and tucked it into her slack hand. “That incident came to naught. I’m sorry you even heard of it, but I assure you, it was nothing.”

Isabel still found it hard to believe. She had stormed the smithy and humiliated herself for nothing. And Hiram Dooley had witnessed it all. He knew where her interest lay. Had he told anyone how she’d ranted at Griffin? She didn’t dare look across the table at him.

She opened her mouth then closed it.

“Miss Fennel.”

She snapped her eyes toward him. He’d barely spoken since they sat down.

“Yes Mr. Dooley?”

“Please, it’s Hiram. And it’s all right, miss.” He nodded gravely, and she looked into his eyes. His expression radiated the discretion Libby had claimed he possessed. Suddenly she realized Libby would know his character well. Because this was the man Libby loved. In that moment, Isabel trusted Hiram with her secret.

“Feeling better?” Trudy asked.

She nodded. In fact, she found herself thinking that perhaps Griff Bane wouldn’t make the ideal husband she’d always imagined he would.

“In that case, would you like a baked potato?” Isabel took the dish from Trudy. “Yes, thank you. But I wonder …”

“What is it?” Libby asked.

Isabel met her gaze. “Is Mrs. Caplinger safe with Uncle Kenton?”

Trudy winced. “If I’d known he’d been in prison, I’d have warned her. I’m sorry.”

“Should we go fetch her, do you think?” Hiram asked.

Ethan shook his head slowly. “I doubt they’ll come to grief having dinner at Bitsy and Augie’s. They don’t even serve liquor anymore.”

“I should have told you about all this when Mrs. Adams first urged me to.” Isabel stared down at her untouched dinner.

Libby caught her breath. “Well … in light of what we all know of Mr. Smith already and the behavior of his hired hands, I think it’s time you told these dear friends all.”

Isabel’s pulse thundered. “You mean … everything?”

“Yes. Your father’s relationship with your uncle, and the black eye he came home with tonight, and even the incident behind the barn.”

Isabel’s eyebrows shot up involuntarily. “I didn’t really think Papa had killed him.”

Ethan’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon.”

She laughed, though it wasn’t funny. “It was silly, really. I saw Papa digging a hole behind the barn in the middle of the night. It was after Uncle Kenton left from that first visit. At least … I didn’t see him leave, but he must have. And I heard digging, and I went out there, and I thought—oh, it’s ludicrous. I can see that now. I’m so silly.”

But no one else laughed.

After a moment of silence, Trudy said, “And why did he dig the hole that night?”

“I don’t know. But when Uncle Kenton came to the ranch a second time, I was relieved and saw that I’d let my imagination run away with me. I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation, but … I don’t like to ask Papa.”

“Mrs. Adams said your father has a black eye?” Ethan asked gently.

Isabel nodded and licked her lips. “He came home tonight looking as though he’d been engaging in fisticuffs. When I offered to tend to it, he got angry. I just don’t understand his moods lately.”

Ethan looked over at Hiram. “Maybe I’d ought to drop in at the Spur & Saddle after all.”

“Oh, please don’t run out in the middle of supper,” Trudy said. “I made your favorite cake—oatmeal.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss that.” Ethan grinned at her.

“Well then, eat up. Mr. Smith was here to get Rose not fifteen minutes before Libby and Isabel arrived. I’m sure they’re over at Bitsy’s enjoying their meal.”

Isabel was grateful for Trudy’s practical advice, but she still wondered what her father was up to. He’d probably eaten his dinner and left the dishes and leftover food all over the table. She ought to go home. But she didn’t want to.

Ethan got the coffeepot and filled all their cups while Trudy cut the cake. “I suppose I ought to see Cyrus and ask him what this is all about.”

“Isabel, I’d like you to stay with me tonight,” Libby said.

Isabel started to protest but realized how much she dreaded going home. “I haven’t anything with me.”

Libby waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve anything you could need in my rooms or the emporium.”

“Well …”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Ethan said. “I’ll try to see your father first thing in the morning.”

Isabel blinked back tears. “Thank you. You’re all so good to me.” She smiled at Libby. “I shall accept your offer.”

When they’d finished eating, Hiram rose and carried his dishes to Trudy’s work counter and took an apron from the peg nearby.

“What’s this?” Libby called. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man do dishes.”

He smiled but said nothing.

“My brother is very good about it on special occasions,” Trudy said. “Especially when he thinks I’d like to visit with my company.”

“Well, your company will help as well.” Libby rose, and Isabel followed her lead.

“I should say so. That was a delicious dinner, Trudy.”

“Thank you, Isabel. Perhaps you can help me clear the table and Libby can dry whatever Hiram washes.”

“I hate to be the slacker,” Ethan said, “but I ought to check in on the Nugget, and then I’ll stroll down to the Spur & Saddle. Won’t be long, if you’d care to take a walk after.” He waited hopefully for Trudy’s answer.

She smiled and stacked the remaining plates. “I’ll be ready.”

Hiram nodded to Ethan and kept his back turned to the ladies as he set up his dishwashing operation. He was certain Trudy was on to his feelings. Dare he hope she saw reciprocation in Libby’s attitude and threw them together on purpose? Libby’s face was flushed and her eyes a bit twinkly when she joined him, putting on the ruffled apron Rose preferred.

His own cheeks felt warm, but he could blame that on the steam from the water he poured into the dishpan.

“Clean towels in the drawer yonder.”

“Thank you.” She opened the drawer in question and took out a linen dish wiper. Trudy kept Isabel in conversation about the box social. Hiram didn’t try to talk to Libby. He just enjoyed working beside her. He kept one ear tuned to what Trudy was saying about Saturday’s event.

“So how did you enjoy having lunch with Parnell Oxley?”

Isabel sighed. “That man’s manners could stand some improvement. But he appreciated my cooking, and overall it was not an unpleasant experience. I … don’t often mix with gentlemen socially.”

Hiram smiled at that, thinking,
If you could call Parnell a gentleman
. Not that the cowboy was a bad person, but he couldn’t see Cyrus approving him as son-in-law material. No, the doctor might stand a better chance there—if he weren’t so downright poor.

“How is the reloading coming?” Libby asked, and he snapped his head around. She stood there, cool and pretty as ever, watching him with a soft smile on her lips.

He realized he was staring at her delicate mouth and jerked his face back toward the dishpan. “Pretty well. I should have a couple of boxes for you by the end of the week.”

“No rush.”

“I’m glad to get the work. My gun business has been slow this spring.” He scrubbed a plate and placed it in the pan of rinse water. He wasn’t used to talking a lot, not even to Ethan and Trudy.

“I’m sure I can sell all you do.” Libby used a fork to help her fish the plate from the rinse water.

The two conversations progressed quietly. Hiram gradually relaxed. He’d never supposed he could feel at ease with Libby, but somehow she chased away his nerves.

All too soon, the dishes were done. Trudy put them away quickly, and Libby and Isabel reached for their shawls.

“We enjoyed having you both,” Trudy said.

Hiram looked at the floorboards. “Come again.”

“Thank you so much.” Libby hugged Trudy and extended her hand to Hiram. “This made for a very pleasant evening, in spite of the concerns we all share.”

He clasped her hand, feeling all kinds of happy as he looked into her blue eyes. All these years Libby had been just across the street, but things had changed. Lately he felt drawn to the emporium on the slightest pretext. Where he would have dragged his feet, he now flew to fetch any item Trudy could express a desire for.

Isabel still carried a pinched, worried look, but she managed a ghost of a smile.

“I do feel better, knowing you and the sheriff know about … about Papa.”

Trudy hugged her as she had Libby, and Isabel bent her stiff arms and tentatively returned the embrace.

Hiram released Libby’s warm, smooth hand and waited to see if Isabel would also offer hers. She didn’t, and the two were soon out the door.

As they went down the back steps, Ethan returned.

“Oh, Miss Fennel, I’m glad I caught you.” He took his hat off and paused below the stoop. “Mr. Smith and Mrs. Caplinger are still at the Spur & Saddle, eating dessert and listening to Miss Goldie’s piano concert. I expect everything’s fine.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

Ethan hesitated. “I saw your pa, too, at the Nugget. Thought you’d want to know.”

Isabel ducked her head. “Thank you.”

“If you think he’ll worry, ma’am, I could stop by there again and tell him you’re staying at Mrs. Adams’s.”

Isabel shook her head. “He’ll probably conclude that I’ve gone to bed when he goes home again. I doubt he’ll realize I’m gone until he wants his breakfast.”

Hiram wondered how much breakfast Cyrus would want if he was putting back the whiskey at the Nugget.

During this conversation, Trudy had hummed softly as she donned her shawl and bonnet. Ethan waited until Libby and Isabel had turned the corner of the path and then came into the kitchen.

“Well now, I see you’re a woman of your word.”

Trudy laughed up at him. “Yes, I am.”

“You never keep me waiting,” Ethan acknowledged.

Hiram’s heart twisted just a little. Those two were so right for each other. Why on earth hadn’t Ethan taken her to the preacher yet?

She turned and smiled at him. “I’ll see you later.”

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