“Oh, I’m going to miss you.” Mrs. Waverly, a neighbor to the south, gave Miranda a tight hug, her gray curls quivering around the edges of her bonnet. “I wish one of our young men had been enough to tempt you to stay.”
“I wish one of your young men had actually been young,” Miranda replied, and they both laughed.
Then Mrs. Waverly turned to Parker. “Best of luck to you. I know Topeka is gaining an asset by your being there.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Waverly.” He stooped and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which made her giggle.
He and Miranda waved goodbye to the small crowd that had gathered to see them off, then he helped his sister into her side of the wagon. As he climbed into his own seat, he swallowed a few times, thinking about everything they’d left behind in the house, thinking about his parents who were buried in this cemetery. It wasn’t so far away that they’d never come back, but still, it felt wrong somehow to move from the place where his parents were buried, as though they were leaving behind the most important part of their legacy.
Miranda laid her hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Just a little tired still.”
“And that little bit of moisture in your eyes?” she teased.
“Moisture? What moisture?” He gave her a grin. “I’m all right. You?”
“Oh, definitely. No moisture here either.”
He nodded, then flicked the reins, and the horses began to move. Miranda waved at everyone until their property was far behind them, and then she turned and settled back in her seat with a thump.
“Tell me about Topeka,” she said.
“I’m not sure what else you want to know—I’ve told you everything I can think of.”
“I know I’ve been peppering you with questions, but I’m just so anxious. What if no one likes me? What if my clothes are all wrong and they think I’m some sort of backwards, degenerate. . .?”
Parker laughed. “Your clothes are fine—you look exactly the same to me as the other girls in town.”
She whirled to face him. “You met girls? You never said you met girls.”
He wished he hadn’t broken that silence now. She was liable to drill him with even more questions, and he wouldn’t have a moment’s peace the whole trip. “I did meet some. They were the waitresses at the hotel where I stayed, and their dresses looked very much like yours.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m quite sure. I also think you might enjoy working at the hotel yourself, if you want a job when we get there.”
“Of course I want a job. Leaving my teaching post was hard for me, and I’m not going to let you be my total support forever.”
“I thought so.” They rolled along without speaking for a moment, then Parker decided he might as well fess up. Miranda would find out as soon as they got to town anyway, and she’d chide him for keeping secrets.
“There’s one waitress in particular I’d like you to meet.”
“Parker Monroe, did you make a lady friend in Topeka?” Miranda’s eyes were huge. “I didn’t think you were gone long enough for that.”
“I don’t know if I could call her a lady friend as of yet, but we did enjoy the few conversations we had.”
Miranda clapped her hands. “So, tell me all about her. And I do mean everything—don’t leave out a single detail.”
“Well, her name is Posy McVey, and she has black hair and dark eyes.”
“She’s pretty?”
“Yes, very.”
“You can’t leave things like that out, brother dear. A good storyteller uses descriptive words as he speaks.”
Parker shook his head. This was the sort of thing he’d been trying to avoid. “She has beautiful black hair and sparkling dark eyes.”
“See? That’s much better. Now, go on.”
“We spoke a few times, and we seemed to get along well.”
Miranda groaned.
“I’m trying! I really am! But not a lot happened.”
“How did she make you feel? Come on—I need feeling words.”
Parker thought that over. “I feel intrigued and interested,” he said after a moment. “And seeing her again is one of the first things I want to do when we get there.”
Miranda sighed. “That’s what I’m talking about. Good job, Parker! We might make a romantic out of you yet.”
“I’m plenty romantic. It’s just awkward talking about this sort of thing with my sister.”
“Well, I’m all you have for right now, so I suggest you get over it.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’ll try. But you aren’t going to act . . . weird when you meet her, are you? Like you know something . . .”
“You give me far too little credit. I will treat her the same as I’ll treat anyone else I meet. Unless I decide not to, in which case, I make no promises.”
Parker shook his head. “Next, you’re going to tell me that you’re just doing your job as my sister.”
“Of course. I don’t know why you’d think anything different.”
They fell silent again, Parker concentrating on guiding the horses around a bend in the road, but also thinking about Posy. When they reached Topeka, he’d likely find that she wasn’t nearly as pretty as he remembered, or that she wasn’t as interesting. He had been rather tired when he met her, and his vision might have been bleary. It was good to keep things in perspective.
***
It had been a few days since the new girls arrived. They were efficient, detail-oriented, and caught on quickly, and yet . . . that seemed to be all there was to them. They’d made their new dresses with the same bursts of energy they used to do everything else, but without saying much, and returned Nora’s dresses to her with their very quiet thanks.
“It’s like they’re shadows of actual people,” Giselle commented as she and Posy sat down together across Giselle’s kitchen table. “I keep trying to start conversations with them as we work, but they’ll give me a one-sentence answer and then clam up again.”
“You’re pleased with their work, though?”
“Of course. They do everything they’re asked, they never complain, and Kate’s learning to make our recipes almost as well as Sarah and Ruth make them. How could I not be pleased? I just wish I knew what was going on behind their solemn expressions. And all three of them are that way, although they’re not sisters.” Giselle shook her head. “It’s the strangest thing.”
“Some people take longer to warm up than others. I’m still struggling in a lot of ways,” Posy admitted.
Giselle reached across the table and touched Posy’s hand. “I know, and I feel responsible for that. We’ve been so busy at the hotel that we haven’t spent the kind of time together that I’d like. I hope that someday, you’ll feel completely comfortable here, and that you’ll think of me as a sister.”
Posy didn’t expect the prickling of tears she felt in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate that. I think . . . I think what’s bothering me most is that I feel so confined here. I’m not used to being indoors so much or wearing so many layers of clothing all the time or . . . being so white.”
Giselle threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, the expression on your face when you said that.”
“I didn’t mean to pull a face. I just . . . it’s so different from what I’m used to.”
“I’m sure it’s a very difficult change, and I understand. I’m sure you also miss your mother.”
This time, Posy was completely unsuccessful at keeping her tears at bay. She wiped her cheeks. “Yes, I do. But I can’t go back—you know I can’t.”
Giselle nodded. “Those men in your village have made it impossible, and it’s not fair. None of this is fair. You shouldn’t have to live apart from your family like this.”
“At least I still have Jesse.”
“Yes, you do, and you always will—he’s been very concerned about your future and your well-being since you came here. He doesn’t want you
to live in fear anymore.” Giselle took a sip of her tea, then paused. “What if you went with Jesse the next time he goes hunting? Would that be enjoyable for you?”
Posy’s heart gave a small leap in her chest. “Hunting? With Jesse? I’d love it! Do you know when he’s going?”
“And now you look like a little girl on Christmas morning. I’d say we hit on a good solution.” Giselle grinned. “I don’t know when he plans to go, but I think if he knew you’d like to go with him, he’d make it sooner rather than later.”
“I really hope so. Where is he today?”
“He took the train down to Wichita to see about selling meat to the restaurants down there. He should be back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll talk to him as soon as he gets back. And when you go, you can take some of my jerky with you.”
“Oh? How did that turn out?”
Giselle looked a little embarrassed. “It’s not as good as Jesse’s, but he says it’s edible.”
Posy laughed. “Edible is good.”
“I sure hope so.”
Posy stayed a few more minutes, then walked back to the hotel. It would be full dark in a few minutes, and while she was carrying her pistol, she still didn’t feel comfortable being out by herself at night. She smiled as she thought back on how she’d met Parker Monroe. If he’d been that impressed by the fact that she carried a gun, she wondered what he’d think if he ever saw her use it.
Chapter Eight
Posy set a platter of bacon and eggs in the center of table six, then glanced toward the entrance of the dining room as she turned. Parker had just come in, followed by a pretty young woman who looked quite a bit like him, and Callie was showing them to a table. She pulled in a breath and tried to calm the rush of nerves in her stomach. He was really here—he’d actually come back. Not that she’d doubted he would, but . . . well, maybe she had doubted it. At least a little.
“So, tell me about the man who just came in the dining room,” Nora said, joining her at the table. “I noticed how you reacted to him—what all did I miss while I was tucked in bed last week?”
Posy pressed her lips together, her face aflame. “You remember—we met him out on the street when we went for lemonade.”
“I thought he looked familiar, now that you mention it. So, what’s going on there?”
“Nothing. We talked a little bit—that’s all.” Posy placed the dishes Ruth had prepared on her tray. “He’s a nice person.”
She tried to ignore Nora’s raised eyebrows as she went back out to the dining room. She had to admit, she didn’t actually mind being teased about Parker Monroe. If she was being teased, that meant her friends had noticed that something was going on, and it wasn’t all in her imagination.
She served her table and stepped on to the next, but before she got there, a soft hand was on her elbow, and she turned to see that Parker had come up beside her.
“Hello. You’re back.” Oh, she wished she could have thought of something more intelligent to say.
“I am. Do you think you’ll have a few minutes after this shift? I . . . well, I’d like to introduce you to my sister and maybe take you for a walk.”
“I could probably get away,” Posy replied. She’d check with Giselle and see if it could be arranged. Knowing Giselle, she’d practically be shoved out of the dining room and into Parker’s arms. The thought made her blush.
“All right. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
“I’ll see you then.” If she’d thought it was hard to control her nerves before, now it was downright impossible. When she stepped back into the kitchen, she exhaled loudly, and the other girls looked at her with curiosity.
“I just . . . um . . .”
Giselle shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “You like him, don’t you?”
“Um . . . yes, I think I do.”
“Sounds like I’ll have a few things to tell Jesse when he gets back.”
Posy’s smile froze on her face. “Oh, no. Please don’t tell him. He’ll want to be . . . well, he’ll get overly protective and scare Parker off, and I don’t want that.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell him not to carry his rifle along, but he will want to meet the man.”
The rifle was exactly what Posy had been worried about.
***
As soon as the meal was over, Posy slipped upstairs and changed out of her black dress, choosing something blue instead, and she put a few more pins in her hair to make sure it was tidy. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d dressed nicely for a man, if ever, and her hands were trembling. She’d tried to convince herself that the feelings she’d had for Parker the week before weren’t real, but they were real, and they were mildly terrifying.
She went downstairs and found Parker waiting for her in the lobby, right where he’d said he’d be, and he came forward and took her hand between his. “Thank you for arranging to get away,” he said.
“It was no trouble. My sister-in-law is the dining room manager.”
“I see. It’s rather nice being on your boss’s good side.” He guided Posy over to the parlor, where his sister was waiting in one of the chairs. “Posy, this is my sister, Miranda.”
Miranda was on her feet in a flash. “Hello, Posy. I’m so glad to meet you. Parker was telling me this might be a good place for me to work, and I wondered if I could ask you some questions about it.”
“Of course. Anything you’d like to know.”
“That would be wonderful. Oh, can we chat another time? I just realized it’s eleven o’clock, and the clerk at the general store asked me to come by at eleven to see this morning’s shipment of cushion fabric.”
“Yes. Whenever you like.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you later at the house, Parker. Goodbye, Posy.” And just like that, Miranda was gone, closing the door to the hotel behind her.
“And that’s my sister,” Parker said, shaking his head. “I hope she wasn’t too obvious about leaving us alone.”
“She seems very nice,” Posy replied. Her knees were shaking so badly, she decided that sitting down would be the very best thing for her to do, and she chose a chair next to the fireplace. Parker took the one just opposite. “When did you reach town?”
“Last night around six. Some of our neighbors kindly helped us unload, and then we practically fell into our beds and went right to sleep. It was an exhausting trip.”
“Oh? How so?”
Parker leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It wasn’t the distance so much as the unfamiliar animals. We borrowed a team from a neighbor, and after a few miles, they decided they weren’t very excited about the journey. I had to climb down and practically lead them by their bridles.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure that made everything twice as hard.”
“It did. I don’t know how many times I wished for Freya on that trip.”
Posy frowned. “You didn’t have Freya with you?”
“No, we didn’t.” Parker sat back and shook his head, his face showing disgust. “She was stolen the night I got home. Some thieving Indians came into town and made off with five of our best animals.”
Posy felt as though her chest had just been turned to ice. “Indians?”
“Yeah. They just come waltzing out of their territory whenever they please, taking whatever they want, causing all sorts of trouble. Makes me wonder why we can’t enforce those boundary lines a little better and keep them where they belong—as far away from me as possible.”
Posy pressed a hand to her mouth. She thought she might vomit, but she was able to calm herself before that happened. “I . . . I don’t know how to reply to that, Mr. Monroe. You’ve left me quite speechless.”
He met her gaze. “I don’t understand. Did I say something to offend you?”
How could he be so dense? “Has it never occurred to you that I’m Indian?”
He flinched back as though he’d been struck. “I . . . no, I didn’t realize that.”
“What
did you suppose I am, with my coloring?”
“I thought you were Mexican, maybe.”
“And you would have preferred that over my being an Indian? Your prejudice is rather selective.”
He held up both hands. “Posy . . . Miss McVey . . . please let me explain.”
Posy shook her head and stood up. “The tone of your voice just now when you talked about keeping them all where they belong . . . Your feelings are very obvious, Mr. Monroe, and I can’t stay here any longer and listen to them. I’m glad you arrived safely, I’m sorry for your run-in with those thieving Indians, and I’ll bid you a good day.”
She turned and left the parlor, then dashed up the stairs to the attic and threw herself on her bed. How . . . What . . . She was so angry, she couldn’t even think straight. He didn’t know she was Indian? She’d thought it was rather obvious. And he thought it was appropriate to sit there and say such hateful words . . . He was angry that his horse had been stolen, but it wasn’t until he’d started talking about the Indians that the venom had truly shown up in his voice. His prejudice ran deep, that was certain, and she was furious that he’d made her believe he was above that sort of thing. That he was a better sort of man.
A moment later, Giselle entered the room and sat down next to her bed. “I saw Mr. Monroe leaving just now. What’s the matter?”
Posy rolled over and told Giselle the whole story, now crushed as well as angry. Giselle’s face was as hard as stone as she listened.
“Are you sure you don’t want me telling your brother about this man?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t even care anymore. Mr. Monroe isn’t going to be part of my life, so it doesn’t matter.”
Giselle stood up. “It matters. I think it matters a great deal. For you, for your mother, for Jesse . . . It matters.” She took a step away, then paused. “And I’m going to ask Sarah to make us some chocolate cake for dinner tonight. Not for the whole train—just us.”
Posy smiled. “Chocolate cake doesn’t fix everything, Giselle.”
“No, but it’s worth a try.”
A Passing Glance Page 7
