“Yes, and I think riding the streetcar is a comfortable way to tour Salem.”
“Sure, I’ll let you ride all that way but you’ll have to pay another fare when we get to the wheelhouse and I turn this car around.”
“Thank you.” She took the seat behind him.
No one else rode all the way to the end of the line as she did. Perhaps she’d imagined someone trailing her yesterday. She didn’t believe her instincts played her false, though.
Anyone could have heard her ask the driver about going to the end and the return trip. A person would have needed only to exit and wait for the streetcar with the same driver to return. She tried to be observant, but she couldn’t see who exited from the back. Next time, she’d sit near the rear of the car.
She was staring out the window when she saw her brother and Tony turn down a street. Glancing at a street sign, she noted the position. Was that street where their business was located?
Later, when her brother and Tony came in, Charlie hung his coat on the hall rack. “Is that roast chicken I smell?”
Tony did the same with his hat and jacket. “The aroma is making my mouth water.”
“Wash up and take your seat. Everything’s ready.” She pulled the hen from the oven and moved the meat to a platter.
Which man would carve? She decided to settle the dilemma by doing so herself. No point causing a rivalry over who was master of the house. She had no doubt that would be Tony, but would he admit to being in charge?
When the men returned, she had the food on the table.
Charlie flicked his napkin across his lap. “So, what did you do today?”
She couldn’t prevent a smile. “I had a lovely time. First I rode the streetcar all the way to the end of the line, then back almost to where I boarded. The driver was kind enough to point out a few sights, but mostly I just enjoyed seeing the city.”
Tony imitated Charlie’s use of a napkin. “Almost where you boarded? What tempted you from your ride?”
“On the first pass, I spotted two millinery shops. I went into each to see how they displayed merchandise and what other things they carried. Of course, in a large city, there are many other shops that carry finer items for ladies, but both of these also carried them in stock.”
Charlie closed his eyes and chewed slowly. When he’d swallowed, he opened his eyes. “We’ll get spoiled coming home to a good meal each evening.”
Tony grinned at her. “I wouldn’t mind this every day after work, would you, Charlie?”
Her brother speared a bite of chicken. “Not at all.”
“Hmph. Then why aren’t either of you married? You should each have a wife and a couple of children by now.”
Charlie exchanged glances with Tony. “We walked right into that one. She’s always trying to get me married.”
Tony grimaced and pointed at her with his fork. “I know lots of married guys who don’t get treated to meals like this. Plenty of them regret ever marrying.”
“Well, you know the wrong ‘guys’ and they married the wrong women. I can assure you neither that John nor I ever regretted marrying. Charlie’s and my parents were devoted as were our grandparents.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Not your in-laws?”
“My mother-in-law hates Rupert, and with good cause. He’s a bully and unethical. John and he fought about the way his father ran the business. That’s why we were moving out and John was going to open his own business.”
Tony stared at her. “Rupert Douglas is your father-in-law?”
She nodded, surprised Tony would recognize the name.
Charlie leaned his fork against the plate. “You know him?”
Tony shook his head. “Not personally, but from all I’ve heard, he wouldn’t take kindly to his son going against him.” He looked at Amelia. “Your husband was correct, I understand his father is unethical. Don’t blame him for planning to leave.”
When they’d finished their meal and sat in the parlor, Amelia showed them the book she’d purchased, The Three Musketeers. “I thought I might start reading it aloud if you’re interested.”
Tony offered his charming smile. “That’s real nice of you. I’d enjoy hearing you read to us.”
Charlie had read the book but Tony acted mesmerized. She read the first chapter then closed the book. “I’ll read another chapter tomorrow night.”
Tony asked, “If the subject isn’t too painful, how did your husband die?”
Amelia clutched the book to her chest. “He’d been working late and was walking home, which was only about eight blocks. When he didn’t arrive, I became worried. Later, police came to the house. John had been stabbed and robbed and lay on the street near an alleyway.” She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
Tony’s expression conveyed his discomfort. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. Please, I hope both of you will forgive me.”
She shook her head. “Talking about it helps. I’ve not had anyone to talk to, you see. Mr. and Mrs. Douglas wouldn’t talk to me other than to tell me to leave. I was consumed with grief and didn’t seek out friends before I left.”
Charlie asked, “Didn’t you tell them you were leaving?”
She offered a slight shrug. “Well, I mentioned to those who called on me when they learned of John’s death that I’d be moving from the Douglas home but didn’t give a time frame. I’d told Evelyn I’d be leaving at my first opportunity, but I had no idea that would be so soon.”
Tony appeared thoughtful. “If you and your husband were planning on opening a business and buying a house, what happened to the money you would have used?”
Amelia’s anger sparked. “A good question! I couldn’t find a bank book in our things but I wasn’t allowed to go through his office at work. John told me we had three thousand dollars—enough to buy a small house and get his business going—but Mr. Douglas said there was no record of any savings.”
She shrugged again. “I know he lied but I don’t know how he was able to confiscate the funds for himself. Mr. Douglas is a powerful man and I had no proof and no means to fight him. I had to give up and leave.”
Amelia reopened the book. “Well, this is a dismal way to end the evening. Why don’t I read you another chapter?”
Tony leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Good. I’m kind of worried about that d’Artagnan guy. Sounds to me like he’s in trouble.”
The next day was Sunday. Neither man was inclined to attend church with her, but eventually they both agreed. After the service, they strolled home.
Tony walked with his hands in his pockets. “I was afraid the church roof would cave in when I entered, but nothing bad happened.”
Amelia walked with her hand on her brother’s arm. “How long since you’ve been to church?”
Tony shrugged. “This was the first time ever. Wasn’t as dreary as I thought it would.” He flashed a grin.
Charlie laughed. “Luckily, the preacher wasn’t one of the fire and brimstone types. Man, I can’t stomach those. This guy wasn’t bad with his talk about loving our fellow man.”
Contentment with the day wrapped around Amelia. “Thank you both for coming with me. I’ll make an apple pie this afternoon as a thank you.”
Charlie leaned over and kissed her cheek. “In that case, let me treat to a restaurant.”
She squeezed her brother’s arm. “I’d love that.”
Chapter Four
Monday morning after the men had gone, Amelia searched the house for any clue to what they were hiding. She opened the door to Tony’s room and caught her hem on a string that had been across the doorway. Drat! When he was a teen, Charlie used the trick of a thread across the door facing to tell him if a nosy sister had been inside his room.
Scolding herself for her carelessness, she couldn’t be certain how and where the thread had been fastened to the doorjamb. She decided she’d have to do the laundry to explain why she’d entered Tony’s
room. She stripped the bed then searched his room—this time wary of traps. Under his mattress, she found a large envelope. Dared she look inside?
Carefully, she opened the flap. No telltale string here. She sat on the mattress and examined the contents, but they made no sense to her. A list of dates and numbers, but there was no explanation to give a clue to their meaning.
She raced to her room for her stationary and a pencil and recorded the dates and other numbers. Knowledge was power, even if she didn’t understand what she’d found. When she’d copied everything, she folded her pages and put them in her pocket and returned envelope and contents to its hiding place.
Gathering up the sheets and the towel from the washstand, she gave them a vigorous, but frustrated, shove downstairs before moving on to her brother’s room. After an extensive search, she discovered nothing unusual. She smiled when she saw he’d kept her telegrams and the letters she’d written him since he’d been in Salem. Charlie moved around a lot but he’d been here for six months.
She was mad at herself for having to launder the linens. Wet sheets were heavy but she got them wrung out and on the line someone had stretched across the back—obviously not Charlie or Tony. The laundry dried in time to make up the beds before the two men arrived home. By then, she had a hearty beef stew and fresh biscuits ready. She’d made another pie, this time peach from tinned fruit.
When Charlie walked through the door, he announced, “I smell peach pie and beef stew.”
Tony laughed. “Man, you have some sniffer.”
As they ate, her brother asked, “So, did you tour Salem on the streetcar again today?”
“No, I did laundry. I couldn’t find your dirty clothes, but I did the sheets and towels.”
Tony gripped the table with white knuckles and his face turned red. “You went into my room without my permission?”
She acted surprised. “This is Monday. You know, traditional laundry day everywhere. I’m sorry, but I had no idea you’d mind, Tony.”
Charlie frowned at Tony then at her. “We send our things to a Chinese laundry. Easier than having someone come to the house. Didn’t you notice that we each took a bundle of soiled clothes with us this morning? ”
She raised her voice in pretended indignation and slapped her palms on the table. “No, I did not!” Gesturing wildly, she added, “You mean I lugged all those sheets and towels downstairs, washed them, hung them on the line, and then lugged them up and put them on the beds again for nothing? That makes me mad enough to . . . well, it makes me very angry.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Charlie held out his hands palms up. “Sorry, we didn’t think to inform you. No harm done, except maybe to your hands and back.”
Tony took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and his face returned to his normal color. “We appreciate you cooking for us, but that’s only if you want to. You’re a guest and you’re not expected to work while you’re here.”
Her brother nodded. “Relax and take some time to get your bearings. You’re already spoiling us with your cooking.”
She uncrossed her arms and acted mollified. “That’s nice of you to say, but I hoped to earn my keep. If you’re sure, though, I’ve always hated doing laundry. Almost as much as I hate ironing.”
Apparently Tony’s mood had improved and he grinned. “Did I mention I prefer my sheets ironed?”
She fisted her hands at her hips. “Tony Ward, then you are flat out of luck tonight.”
After dinner, Charlie helped carry plates to the sink. “Are you crazy?” he hissed in her ear. “I told you to be careful.”
“I was.” Aloud she said, “No need to help, Charlie. Go read your newspaper. I’ll be in soon and read the next chapter or so if you two are in the mood to hear more.”
Lying in her bed later that night, she thanked God for her escape from Tony’s wrath. At least, she thought she’d escaped. Did she have the nerve to carry out her plan for tomorrow? No, she’d better wait a day and be the perfect little guest tomorrow.
The next morning, she smiled to her brother and Tony before they left for work.
Tony reminded her, “No work today, all right? Relax and enjoy your time in Salem.”
“All right. I bought myself a couple of books when I bought The Three Musketeers. I might loaf about the house reading today.”
Charlie nudged Tony. “Bet they’re both sickly sweet romances.”
She mustered up an antagonistic expression. “I beg your pardon. They’re romances, but they are not sickly sweet. On the contrary, they’re adventures with daring heroes dashing to the rescue of intelligent heroines.”
“Sounds boring to me.” But, Charlie gave her a warning look before he left.
She was right to be cautious today. Maybe she would read all day. If someone was following her, being stuck in one place would serve him right.
About midmorning there was a knock on the door. She closed her book and called, “Who’s there?”
“I’m taking a survey, Ma’am. Could I speak to you briefly?”
She stood in the entry. “I’m not interested in being surveyed.”
“Ma’am, if you’ll open the door I won’t take much of your time.”
She was glad the door was securely locked. “I said no. Now, please leave.” She hurried to a window and peered through the voile sheer.
A man stepped off the porch then looked back at the door before walking on. He didn’t go next door or across the way. Instead, he walked down the street.
Amelia hugged her arms and wondered what would have happened had she opened the door. Perhaps the man was only checking to make certain she was indeed inside. She felt uneasy the rest of the day but forced herself to read enough of a book to pass the time. She couldn’t have told anyone what the book was about for her mind was elsewhere.
How did Charlie survive in this atmosphere? He must have to watch every word and movement. No wonder there were new lines on his face. He was only twenty-seven—far too young to have acquired frown lines.
Tomorrow she would carry out her plan. In her mind, she’d rehearsed each part. If she succeeded, she should act in the theater instead of selling hats.
***
As prepared as she could be, Amelia set out to learn more about her brother’s place of business. She hoped she wasn’t opening Pandora’s box. Amelia certainly didn’t want for her and Charlie to be stung by all the evils of the world, especially not in the form of Tony’s uncle. She took comfort remembering that Hope remained in that box. Her decision was made and she walked briskly to the streetcar stop.
Exiting at the corner where she’d seen Charlie and Tony walking, she ambled along as if shopping. By sheer luck, she spotted a millinery shop and went inside. A friendly woman in her forties greeted her.
Amelia explained that she planned to open a similar place in another town and asked questions of the owner.
The woman assessed Amelia’s hat. “I see you’re in mourning, but your hat is very stylish. If you created it, you’re gifted.”
Amelia touched the brim. “I’ve been making hats for friends for several years, but now that my husband passed I’ll need to earn my own way. I plan to find a smaller town that doesn’t already have a millinery shop.”
As there were no other customers, the woman was forthcoming. “Pay attention to Harper’s and Godey’s and other ladies magazines for the latest styles and colors. They seem to change every season, but with cleverness you can craft hats that are classic and endure.” She continued offering suggestions for a few minutes.
“Thank you for talking with me. I’d like to buy that lovely spring hat. Although I’m in mourning now, I won’t always be garbed in black.”
The woman boxed up Amelia’s purchase. “There’s a supply house only a few blocks away if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’d love to get some new trims.”
“I’ll write the address for you and the directions as the building’s a bit hard to find.” She did so and
handed the piece of paper to Amelia. “Good luck with your shop.”
Bidding the kind woman goodbye, Amelia followed the directions. She sensed prickles up and down her spine but didn’t catch a glimpse of her pursuer. At the supply house, she perused the supplies. Goodness, she had no idea Salem would have a business with so many choices.
After placing an order, she asked that it be packed and sent to the train station awaiting her direction. When she left, she spotted the same man who had come to the house yesterday. He didn’t look at her but stood smoking a cigarette and looking in the window of a business across the street.
Feeling like one of the heroines of a novel, she walked briskly along. The man threw down his cigarette and kept up with her. She turned a corner and he crossed the street and followed.
For heaven’s sake, did he think she was unconscious not to notice him? This wasn’t a main street any longer, but one of warehouses and industry. She reached a cabinet maker and went inside. A sturdy middle-aged man was at work.
“Excuse me, but there’s a strange man following me and I wonder if you have a back exit.”
The workman stopped sanding a table. “The nerve of the man. What’s Salem coming to when a woman can’t walk down a street safely in broad daylight? You come this way, Ma’am.” He not only showed her the back door, but took her across the alley to another business and knocked.
When a gruff, gray-haired man answered, he too grew indignant when he heard the furniture worker’s explanation. “You walk right through here, Ma’am. Don’t know what the city’s coming to.”
She thanked both men and hurried away from there before the pursuer realized what had happened. Weaving a trail she backtracked to the street where she’d seen her brother and Tony. She walked slowly, hoping for some indication of where they could have gone.
Down the block, Tony walked out of a building. Tipping her hat askew and pulling her blouse partially loose from her skirt, she called to him.
“Tony! Tony! Thank heaven someone I recognize.”
He frowned and hurried toward her. “Amelia? What are you doing in this part of town?”
Montana Sky: Bride's Adventure (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Loving A Rancher Book 4) Page 3
