Megan told herself to stay calm. Colleen was on a rampage. It didn’t mean anything. She had these fits from time to time. Everyone around her had to listen to her rage on and on, then it died down. Megan should just smile sweetly and go along with her as she usually did. Except this time it was different. This time Colleen was raging against Bonnie. Megan wouldn’t let anything happen to the little girl.
She checked the coffee. Sounds of conversation and laughter drifted in from the parlor. Most of the women in town and from the surrounding farms had been invited to Colleen’s house for tea. Unfortunately, the mother of the boy Gene had hit wasn’t among them. Megan had tried to talk to her sister about the incident, but her sister had dismissed it, saying the child obviously deserved slapping.
“Is the coffee done?” Colleen asked.
“Not yet.” Megan began slicing the cake she’d brought. What would her self-righteous sister say if she knew Bonnie had helped with it the previous afternoon? Megan decided to wait until Colleen had eaten a slice before telling her.
“I think you’re wrong about this,” Megan said.
“Fortunately, your opinion doesn’t matter to anyone.”
Megan gritted her teeth. Getting angry wouldn’t accomplish anything. “Justin is being very sweet to that child. When no one else would take her in, he did. He’s seeing that she’s fed and clothed. Why is that so terrible?”
“He’s a bachelor living in a hotel, for heaven’s sake. That child is the daughter of a whore, and a bastard to boot. She should be in an orphanage, with others like her. Not prancing around town, or corrupting our God-fearing children with her filthy language.”
Megan set down the knife and wiped her hands on a towel. “The only one with a filthy mouth that I know is you, dear sister. You find pleasure in those words, don’t you? Does it make you feel powerful or wicked to say them?”
Colleen drew herself up to her full height. Angry, righteous fire shot from her hazel eyes. “How dare you?”
“You’re the one who dares. Bonnie is an innocent in all this. Why can’t you see that?”
“I see you’re being swayed by that man. I didn’t know how far things had gone.” Colleen’s gaze narrowed. “What sins have you committed, Megan Bartlett?”
“I’m not the point. Bonnie is. You’re being unfair.”
“I forbid you to see her, or that vile man.”
Megan was glad she’d put the knife down. She planted her hands on her hips. “You don’t have the right to forbid me to do anything.”
“Of course I do. I’m your sister, and married. I’m responsible for your reputation in town, and for what you’ve been doing. I know that you defended that man to Mrs. Greeley. Heaven only knows what other things you’ve done.”
“Stop talking about me,” Megan demanded. “We’re discussing the little girl. She has no family, no home. She’s only six years old. How can she be responsible for her parents’ actions?”
“The sins of the father shall be visited upon the children.” Colleen picked up the coffee and poured the steaming liquid into the silver serving pot. “Finish putting that second tray together.”
Megan reached for the bottle of milk, then stopped. She stared at her sister. “I don’t know you anymore, Colleen. We used to be close, but now you’re a stranger to me.”
“That’s your own doing. I haven’t changed at all. You have. You’re the one associating with the sheriff and his—”
“Stop it,” Megan said firmly. “Stop calling her names and saying those evil things. I won’t listen.”
Colleen slammed the empty pot onto the table. “Don’t you tell me what to do.”
“Colleen, don’t be like this.” Megan stared at her sister, wondering when they’d become enemies. This isn’t what she’d wanted. Why wouldn’t Colleen listen? Why was the truth so difficult for her to hear? “When we were younger and our mother left—”
“No. Mama didn’t leave. She’s dead. I’ve told you and told you, she’s dead.” Color flared on Colleen’s pale face, staining her cheeks with an unhealthy-looking flush. “Mama died. There was a funeral.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“No! I won’t listen to this.” Colleen adjusted the silver service on the tray, and picked up the plate of sliced cake. “You make up your lies to torment me. I know you do. You spend your entire life tormenting me. It’s bad enough that you run that store. Do you know how that’s shamed me? My own sister working like a common laborer? You’re a spinster, as well. Sometimes I can barely lift my head for the shame.”
Megan was used to this particular lecture. She’d heard it several times before. “Your shame comes and goes with amazing convenience,” she snapped. “The matter of the child is still unresolved. I don’t understand your reluctance to deal with her. That is, however, your choice. But why do you protest when someone else gets involved? What happened to Christian charity?”
“I save it for good Christians.” Colleen picked up the full tray and motioned for Megan to follow her with the second one. “Mark my words, Sister. I will not tolerate your wickedness much longer. One whisper from me, from Gene, and no one will frequent your store.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“Am I?” Colleen smiled. “Shall we find out?”
“I’m your sister. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Not if you persist in acting this way.” She walked from the kitchen.
Megan sat in one of the chairs by the table and rested her chin in her hands. She could hear the faint laughter and conversation from the parlor. She felt out of place and unwelcome in her sister’s home. That made her sad, but wasn’t surprising. This had been coming for a long time. Perhaps it had all started that cold November day their father had told them their mother was dead. As far as she knew, it was the only time their father had ever lied.
The back door opened and Gene walked in. His bare scalp and temple glistened from the heat. He wore a white shirt and vest, and carried his black jacket in one hand. When he saw her, he stopped and smiled. There was something peculiar and a little frightening about his eyes.
“Megan. What are you doing here?”
“Colleen is having a meeting.” She rose to her feet and approached the stove. “I was just waiting for the coffee.” She opened the pot and glanced at the dark liquid. “Oh, look. It’s ready.” She poured it into the silver service.
Before she could pick up the tray, Gene moved close and placed his hand on her arm. “Colleen is very worried about you.”
Despite his lack of hair and his chilling expression, Gene wasn’t unattractive. He was tall and lean, with a studied but graceful carriage. When they’d first been introduced, she, along with her sister, had thought him handsome. Her opinion had quickly changed as she’d spent more time with him. She’d even tried to talk Colleen out of the engagement.
Now, with his fingers gently stroking her forearm, she had to fight the urge to put as much space between them as possible. “My sister is overly protective. I understand her concerns, even if I don’t agree with them. Don’t worry yourself, Gene. Everything is fine.”
“I do worry about you. With your father gone, I consider you my responsibility.” His brown eyes met hers. Something flared there. She didn’t want to know what it was so she turned away and swept up the heavy tray.
Gene seemed to take the hint and moved to the hallway and held open the door. It was an unnecessary task; the door stayed open on its own. Still, she thanked him graciously.
Before she could escape completely, he spoke again. “The child will be sent away.”
“You, too?” she asked, resigned. “What is it about this little girl that has everyone so afraid?”
“I’m not afraid. I’m just warning you. Bonnie’s presence in this town is divisive. The Lord wants all of us to love one another and live in harmony.”
She gripped the tray tightly. “Except for Bonnie or her mother.”
“Exactly.”
“She’s just one little girl.”
“It only takes one pair of hands to do the devil’s work.”
Megan started down the hallway toward the parlor. She didn’t know who was worse—Colleen or her husband. They both made her shudder.
She entered the parlor and realized she’d gone from bad to worse. The discussion there was already heated.
“It’s disgusting,” Mrs. Greeley said, reaching forward and pouring herself another cup of coffee.
“I can’t imagine what happens there,” another woman said.
There were ten ladies in all sitting in Colleen’s parlor. She’d inherited their father’s penchant for overfilling a room. Settee and sofas, chairs and tables were crammed into every available inch of space. Lacquered boxes and figurines littered the surface of the tables. Megan had to hold the tray while Mrs. Dobson made room. She set it down, then settled next to the older woman, all the while wondering how long she had to stay before she could politely escape.
“She sleeps in his bed,” Mrs. Greeley said knowledgeably. Several of the ladies gasped. They were all the best of Landing society, such as it was. The butcher’s wife, the widowed sisters who owned the founding farm, Colleen, Mrs. Dobson, Megan and a few others Megan didn’t know that well.
Mrs. Dobson straightened on the overstuffed settee. “Anabell, I’m ashamed of you for spreading lies like that. Bonnie has her own room.”
“But it’s next to his, isn’t it?”
“She’s six years old,” Megan said heatedly. “She gets frightened at night. She’s recently lost her mother.”
“Good riddance,” Colleen said, then sniffed.
Megan started to stand up, but Mrs. Dobson placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Hush, child,” she said softly. “Getting angry won’t solve anything.”
“Why are you here?” Megan asked in a whisper. “I thought you liked Justin.”
“I do. Finding out what your sister has planned seemed the most sensible route.”
Mrs. Greeley was speaking again. “Whether or not the child has her own room isn’t really the point, is it? That girl is a problem. A blemish on our town and a reminder of the kind of sin we’re struggling to get rid of. If Sheriff Kincaid doesn’t agree to the church’s most generous offer—” she paused while Colleen smiled modestly “—then I say he should be fired.”
“He has a contract,” one of the widows reminded her.
“I’ll have Winston check with our lawyer this week,” Mrs. Greeley said.
“Sheriff Kincaid is a good man, and we’re lucky to have him,” Mrs. Dobson said.
Colleen arched her eyebrows. “What an interesting point of view. Are we to ignore the fact that seven years ago he was run out of town for beating a prostitute nearly to death?”
“He was cleared of that charge,” Mrs. Dobson reminded her.
“Yes, she cleared him of it. If I remember correctly, I heard that she knew him intimately enough to be able to say it wasn’t him in the dark. Curious, don’t you think? That he’s taken such an interest in that same woman’s child.”
Megan knew what she was implying. “Bonnie is only six. Justin’s—” She swallowed hard as eight pair of eyes focused on her. She should have called him Sheriff Kincaid. Too late now. “Justin was gone over seven years,” she continued. “Bonnie couldn’t be his.”
“Oh, but we only have the child’s word on her age. It’s likely her mother lied about it, to save her lover.”
Several of the women nodded in agreement.
Megan shook off Mrs. Dobson’s restraining hand. “You’re all mad. Bonnie is just a little girl, like your own children. She’s done nothing wrong. Justin has done what you were afraid to do.” She pointed at her sister. “You don’t know the meaning of Christian charity. You’re heartless and cruel. I don’t know you anymore.”
“Watch yourself, Megan. Don’t forget who I am.”
“I know exactly who you are. Who all of you are. I’m ashamed I once thought of you as my friends.” Megan made her way out of the maze of tables. She gathered her shawl and reticule from a table by the hallway. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dobson. I know you’re on Justin’s side, but you’re wrong if you think these women can be reasoned with.”
Colleen stood up. “Megan, you’re hysterical. Come back and sit down.”
“I won’t.” She started toward the door.
Colleen came after her and followed her onto the porch. “You’re acting a fool,” her sister said, her voice low and angry. “Don’t fight me on this, Megan, or I swear I will destroy you.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She started down the stairs.
“You will be,” Colleen called after her. “You will be.”
CHAPTER TEN
Megan stormed into the sheriff’s office, pushing open the door so hard it bounced off the wall. She shouldered past it and stomped toward Justin’s desk. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. At the desk to his left, a young dark-haired man sat staring at her, his mouth partly open.
She barely spared him a glance. “I must speak with you, Sheriff Kincaid,” she said through clenched teeth. Fury filled her.
“So I gathered.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Take a walk, Thomas.”
“Yes, sir.” Thomas scrambled to his feet and crossed the room to the hooks by the door. He picked up his hat. “Ma’am,” he said, then closed the door behind him.
Justin motioned to the empty chair in the center of the room. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” She sat down, then stood back up. “I can’t sit. I’m too angry.”
She pulled off her shawl and dropped it onto the seat, then slipped her reticule off her wrist and placed it on the shawl. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing came in rapid pants. Her anger energized her and frightened her in equal measures.
Justin rose to his feet and came around the desk. He leaned one hip on the corner of it and folded his arms over his chest. “You look mad enough to spit.”
“I never spit. But you’re right. I could today.” She drew in a deep breath and faced him. “I’ve been visiting Colleen.”
“That’s enough to put anyone in a bad mood.” A faint smile pulled at his firm mouth. It tempted her to let go of her temper, but she couldn’t. The problem was too serious, and far too dangerous.
“Don’t try to tease me,” she said quietly. “She wasn’t alone. Several women were having a meeting.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“Because they want to fire me?” At her start of surprise, he shrugged. “I’m not stupid, Megan. Of course Colleen and her friends want to get rid of me. I’m making them uncomfortable. However, I haven’t done anything illegal. They can’t hurt me.”
“You’re wrong.” She stepped closer to him. Dark hair tumbled down his forehead and in the back to the middle of his collar. He needed a haircut. “They’re saying ugly things. Rumors, really, but they could be damaging. They’re saying that Bonnie sleeps with you.”
He clenched his jaw and narrowed his gaze. “Who said that?”
“That’s not important. Mrs. Dobson said it wasn’t true, and of course the hotel staff can confirm it. Colleen also hinted—” Megan stopped midsentence and swallowed. She didn’t want to say it. She was afraid of the truth. No, she was jealous of the past, of what he’d done with Laurie Smith. She lowered her gaze to her hands and noticed that she was twisting her fingers together. She tried to stop, but couldn’t.
“Megan?” Justin touched her upper arm. “What did Colleen say that upset you?”
“She said Bonnie was your child. That’s the reason you’re taking such an interest in her.”
She kept her gaze centered on his chest, at the place where his black vest met his white shirt. She watched the slow rise and fall as he breathed in and out. She waited for him to say the words that would destroy her forever.
He swore.
Megan jerked her head up. Her eyes wid
ened in shock. Justin glared at her. “I won’t apologize for saying the word. Your sister is a conniving, lying... Damn her.” He flushed under his tan. “I never thought much of Colleen, and now I think even less.”
Megan turned away. Her heart continued to pound hard in her chest, but now it felt heavier. He hadn’t denied it. He was angry that Colleen had guessed the truth. She blinked several times before realizing she was fighting tears.
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” She heard his footsteps on the wooden floor, then felt his hands on her shoulders. “You believe her, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what to think. Laurie said she could recognize you in the dark, and you said you’d...done that with her.” She bit hard on her lower lip. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. She’d given up tears long ago.
“You think so little of me. No wonder you didn’t come away with me when I asked.”
She closed her eyes. She could feel him standing behind her, but she refused to turn around. She didn’t want him to see the pain in her face; she didn’t want him to know how much she still cared. Had she ever stopped caring? Her affections had changed over the years, mostly because she’d changed, but they’d never died. There had only ever been Justin in her life.
“Yes, I visited Laurie on occasion. Yes, I did ‘those’ things with her. But not after you agreed to marry me.”
She spun around and her hands came to rest on his chest. She stared up at him, at his deep brown eyes. The stranger was gone. This was the Justin she remembered, the young man she’d been in love with.
“We were engaged for several months,” she said.
He nodded. “If Laurie had been pregnant with my child, it would have been obvious at the time of the attack.” He smiled. “Can you imagine how fast that sort of news would have traveled in this town?”
“Like a fall wildfire.” She felt her mouth tugging up at the corners. “Thank you for telling me that. You didn’t have to. It—” she ducked her head in embarrassment “—it means a lot to me.”
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