Gwen almost asked him what those concerns were, but a check in her spirit stopped her from voicing the question aloud. Something told her Harrison was being less than honest.
“Maybe you know when he’s to return, Miss Arlington.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know for certain.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
She stiffened. What business was it of his what Morgan said to her? “I didn’t see him before he left.” True — and she felt no compunction to tell him there had been a note. “You must excuse me, Mr. Carter. I’ve an article to write and too little time to do it in.” She slapped the reins against Shakespeare’s rump, and the buggy moved forward, around the bend, and out of Harrison’s sight.
Disagreeable man.
Unless the voters of Bethlehem Springs voted for Morgan despite his endorsement of Gwen, she would be the newly elected mayor in a few weeks. She would have to work with Harrison Carter on matters that concerned both town and county. That wasn’t a pleasant thought. The longer she knew him, the less she liked him.
The road curved to the right again, then to the left, and once more to the right. The final turn brought the New Hope lodge into view. She imagined herself as a guest arriving for the first time. Surely it would make a guest’s heart leap when he or she saw that magnificent building. She was no judge of health spas, having never visited one, but she had to believe this would be as grand as any other.
How many guest rooms would there be in this four-story building? Sixty? Eighty? More? Would a day actually come when all of those rooms would be filled with guests? Morgan must think so or he wouldn’t be pouring so much money into its development.
In an area some distance from the lodge was a clearing where several corrals had been built. Each held a number of horses. Nearby were several wagons with horses standing in the traces. She guided Shakespeare in that direction.
By the time she stepped out of her buggy, Fagan Doyle could be seen striding toward her.
“Miss Arlington, sure and it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Good day, Mr. Doyle.”
“If it’s Morgan you’re looking for, you won’t find him here.”
She nodded. “Actually, it was you I came to see.”
“Me? Be still my heart.” He placed both of his hands over the left side of his chest. His grin gave away his jest.
“Perhaps you know that I write articles for the Daily Herald”
“Aye, I’ve read them myself.”
“I want to write a number of pieces about you and some of the local men who are employed here. Could I talk to you and a few others? I promise not to keep anyone from their work for too long.”
“For you, Miss Arlington, it would be a pleasure.” He motioned toward the lodge. “Would you care to see what’s been achieved since you were last here?”
“Yes, I would like that. Very much.”
Over dinner that evening, Morgan listened to Daphne’s animated descriptions of the places and people she and Robert had seen as they came west. Most of their journey had been by rail, although some of their side trips had been by motorcar.
His sister was more articulate than he remembered. More poised as well. He supposed the completion of her education and several trips to Europe had made the difference since the last time they were together. She was pretty too. Not as pretty as Gwen, but —
“Morgan, I just remembered what your last letter said. You’re running for mayor? That’s rather unexpected, isn’t it? I had no idea you had political aspirations.”
“I don’t, and I don’t expect to win the election. I’ve stayed in the race, but I’ve made it known that I plan to vote for my opponent. Miss Arlington would make the better mayor.”
Daphne straightened in her chair. “Your opponent is a woman?”
“Yes.” He grinned at his sister. “And she isn’t a great many years older than you.”
“Women have the vote in Idaho?”
Morgan nodded. “Since 1896. Among the first in the nation to grant women full suffrage.”
Daphne looked at Robert. “And you said Idaho was a backwater and that I should go with you to California.”
Morgan glanced from his sister to Robert and back again. Was something going on between those two? Had Robert Dudley become more to Daphne than was proper, considering they were both young and unmarried and had traveled almost twenty-seven hundred miles together?
He was surprised by the strong surge of emotions that overtook him as the questions formed in his mind. He’d managed not to give his sister too much thought in the years since their mother died. He’d been content to allow their cousin to look after Daphne and to inform him if something was needed. That had changed in an instant.
“Is something wrong, Morgan?” Daphne leaned toward him. “You’re wearing the most disagreeable look on your face.”
“No. Nothing’s wrong.”
At least it had better not be, if Robert Dudley knew what was good for him.
TWENTY-EIGHT
On Friday afternoon, Gwen was standing on the sidewalk in front of the Daily Herald, visiting about matters both large and small with Christina Patterson and Myrna Evans, when she heard the sound of an approaching automobile. Her heartbeat quickened with hope — the put-putter-put of an engine did that to her these days — and her eyes were drawn in the direction of the sound.
Coming up Main Street from the highway was a touring car, top down. She narrowed her eyes. Was that Morgan at the wheel? Yes. Yes, it was. But who was that in the passenger seat? The woman, her hat and face swathed in netting to keep away the road dust, seemed to be looking at the town with great interest, turning her head this way and that.
As the automobile passed the three women, all of them now looking at the car and its occupants, Morgan gave them a nod of greeting, but he didn’t slow the vehicle.
Christina said, “Who was that with Mr. McKinley?”
“I don’t know,” Gwen answered.
“Not anyone from around here,” Myrna said. “I’m sure of that.” She lowered her voice, as if sharing an intimate secret. “It appears Mr. McKinley had more than business on his mind when he went to Boise.”
Gwen felt a sudden chill. Who was that woman and why had Morgan brought her to Bethlehem Springs? Several possible answers to those questions whispered in her head, and none of them brought her comfort.
“Well, I must be getting along home,” Christina said, “or Nathan will have nothing to eat for his supper but cold meat and a slice of bread.”
Myrna nodded. “I must do likewise.” She touched Gwen on the forearm. “And if I don’t find Felicity practicing the piano when I get home, that daughter of mine will find herself doing extra chores for a solid month.”
Gwen scarcely heard the words her friends spoke. In her mind she saw Morgan and his female companion driving down Main Street. He’d seen her too. Why hadn’t he stopped? Why hadn’t he taken just a few moments to speak to her?
Because she’d sent him away, that’s why. Because she’d told him she couldn’t return his feelings, that she didn’t welcome his kisses, that she didn’t want to be promised to any man.
Was it too late to tell him that was no longer true?
While Mrs. Cheevers showed Daphne to what would be her room for the duration of her stay, Morgan sorted through his accumulated mail and the messages Fagan had left for him. There wasn’t anything that needed immediate attention, and he was thankful for that. He was too tired for decision making. What he wanted most was a bath to wash off the road dust, followed by a good meal.
“Mr. McKinley?”
He looked up and watched Mrs. Cheevers descend the stairs.
“I didn’t want to say this in front of your sister, sir, but Mrs. Nelson wasn’t feeling well and I sent her home. I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow and there’s nothing prepared for your evening meal.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Cheevers. Daphne and I will go to the South Fo
rk for dinner.”
“I deeply regret these circumstances. It won’t happen again.”
He placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ve been dining out for an entire week. Another night won’t hurt us.” He dropped the mail onto the entry table. “Anything of interest happen while I was away?”
“No, sir. Not that I’ve heard. Although Miss Arlington wrote an interesting piece for the paper about one of the local men who works up at New Hope.”
Now that was news. “What did she write?”
His housekeeper smiled at him. “I believe it would be fair to say that Miss Arlington has given her endorsement to you and New Hope the same as you gave your endorsement to her for mayor.”
Pleasure sluiced through him. Perhaps he had reason to hope that she would forgive him for that unexpected kiss. And perhaps she might be willing, in time, to be kissed again.
“If you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll see that Mr. Finch brings in the young lady’s things. She told me she wants to take a bath.” Her gaze skimmed over him, as if to say, You should do the same.
He did want a bath — but first he wanted to read Gwen’s article. “Are the newspapers in my study?”
“Yes, sir. I left them on your desk.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cheevers.”
The woman hurried off to see to Daphne’s needs while Morgan headed for his study.
It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for.
NEW HOPE FOR HOWARD SMITH
When the Lucky Johnson Mines ceased operation, Howard Smith found himself out of work for the first time in two decades. For a time, he thought he might have to move his family away from Bethlehem Springs in order to find employment. But for the past year, Mr. Smith has been working at the building site of the New Hope Health Spa as a carpenter.
The article — the first of a series, according to the paper — went on to tell the kind of work Howard Smith had been doing and included numerous quotes by the man himself. Gwen’s journalism skills were apparent throughout the piece.
Two other things were also obvious. One, Gwen believed in the benefits New Hope had brought and would bring to Bethlehem Springs. And two, she cared for Morgan. Not that she said as much, but he sensed it between the lines.
Wishful thinking? Perhaps — but his heart told him otherwise.
Gwen sat on her porch swing, rocking gently back and forth, a glass of tea in her hand. In the summer, this was how she spent many an evening, enjoying the colorful flowers that filled her front yard, soaking in the sounds of Bethlehem Springs as the sun lowered itself behind the mountains, sometimes visiting with a neighbor or two as twilight blanketed the town.
But her thoughts were not restful this evening. The election was only a few days away, and along with the increasing belief that she would be elected had come numerous doubts about her ability to serve the people well. Would she be able to bring about positive change? That was certainly her hope.
Hope…
New Hope…
Morgan…
Oh, how her thoughts betrayed her. She even imagined she could hear him speaking her name —
But it wasn’t her imagination. He was there at her gate, a pretty young woman holding his arm.
Morgan smiled as he swung the gate inward. “I’m glad we found you at home.”
Gwen set her glass on the floor, rose from the swing, and stepped toward the railing, all the while pleading with God that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. “I trust your business in Boise was concluded satisfactorily.” She forced a smile as her gaze moved to the woman at Morgan’s side.
“Miss Arlington, allow me to introduce my sister, Daphne McKinley. She has come to stay with me for the summer.”
His sister. Of course. She should have known. Look at them. They had the same color eyes and hair and similar jawlines and noses. There was even something about the way Daphne carried herself that was like her brother. An air of confidence, perhaps.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss McKinley.” Gwen motioned them onto the porch, her smile no longer forced. “Please. Won’t you join me?”
“We’d be delighted,” Morgan answered.
“Would either of you like some iced tea?”
“Not for me, thanks.” He patted his abdomen. “We’ve just come from dinner at the South Fork, and I’m filled to the gills.”
There was not the least bit of doubt remaining. Gwen was in love. Completely. Totally. Utterly. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him how sorry she was for being an idiot. She did want his kisses. She did want to be promised to someone. To him!
No one could have been more surprised than Gwen by this storm of emotions roiling inside of her. She had chosen the single life. It hadn’t been thrust upon her. She’d chosen to be independent of a husband, to be free to make her own choices, free to come and go as she pleased. She hadn’t wanted to hand control of her life to another person.
But freedom no longer felt free.
Gwen realized belatedly that Daphne had answered her about the tea, and she had no idea whether the reply had been yes or no. She hoped the latter for she was loathe to leave the porch even for a few minutes. She wanted to stay right here, near Morgan.
“I’m glad you were at home,” he repeated, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. He settled onto a chair next to where his sister now sat. “I wanted Daphne to meet you.”
“My brother has had many kind things to say about you, Miss Arlington.”
Gwen tried not to let those words thrill her too much. She failed.
“He knew I was coming for a visit, of course, but he wasn’t expecting me to arrive this soon. Imagine my surprise when I saw him walking along the street in Boise.”
“No more surprised than I was to see you.”
Daphne continued as if her brother hadn’t spoken. “I have been eager to meet you from the moment I learned you were running for mayor. I knew right then that you and I should be friends.”
“I would like that,” Gwen said, meaning it.
“What made you decide to run? Was it something you’ve always wanted to do?”
Gwen laughed softly. “No. It was my sister’s idea. I wouldn’t have thought of it on my own, but Cleo is nothing if not a freethinker.”
“Oh, yes. Morgan told me that you have a twin sister. I wish I’d had a sister close to my own age.” Daphne touched Morgan’s forearm and smiled at him. “Not that I don’t adore my older brother, but he was scarcely ever around from the time I turned six. I feel like we are just now getting to know one another.”
It was strange, the way this information made Gwen feel even closer to Morgan. Both of them had been separated from their sisters when they were younger. Both of them had been given a second chance to become closer to their siblings once again.
To Daphne, she said, “Then I hope you will remain in Bethlehem Springs for a long time. It’s good to reconnect with one’s family.”
“I hope she’ll stay too.” Morgan straightened in his chair. “But I think it’s time we started for home. It’s been a long day, and the hour grows late.”
Gwen wasn’t ready for them to leave yet, but she could think of no reason for them to remain. However, she could think of a reason for them to return. “Would you both come to Sunday dinner? My father and sister will be here. I know they’d like to meet you, Miss McKinley.”
Daphne didn’t even glance at her brother. “We’d love to come.”
“We would, indeed.” Morgan stood, then offered his hand to his sister.
Gwen followed them down the steps and along the walk to the gate. It was there that Morgan stopped and turned, so suddenly she almost ran into him.
In a low voice he said, “If it’s all right, Miss Arlington, I will call upon you again tomorrow.”
TWENTY-NINE
Morgan parked his automobile at the sidewalk near Gwen’s front gate and whispered a quick prayer for God’s blessing. Th
e last time he’d asked a woman to marry him, it had been a bad decision. Even now, the memory left a nasty taste in his mouth. But Gwen was nothing like Yvette. For that matter, he was a much different man than he’d been before.
Now if only she loved him too. If only she said yes when he asked her. Last night he’d felt as if something had changed between them. Changed in her.
Please, God, let me not be mistaken.
He opened the passenger door and stepped onto the sidewalk. His lungs felt starved for air, and he took a moment to draw a deep breath before opening the gate and striding toward the house. The front door was open, and he could see through to the kitchen where Gwen sat at the table, holding a cup between two hands.
If I’ve ever wanted anything, Lord, it’s her.
He rapped on the doorjamb. Gwen started, as if surprised by the sound, then turned toward the door. Did she look glad or sorry to see him? He couldn’t be sure. Her face was hidden in shadows.
“Good morning.” He removed his hat. “I hope I haven’t come too early in the day.”
“No.” She rose and came toward him. “It isn’t too early.”
What if he’d misread her last night? What if she wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say? He could destroy any chance he had with her if he spoke too soon.
“Does Owen have a lesson today?” he asked.
“Not today. He’s working for the Humphreys at the mercantile for the summer.” She pushed open the screen door. “We’ll resume his lessons in the fall when school starts up again.”
“No summer off for me?” He stepped inside.
She shook her head, voice grave. “Owen is one of my advanced students. He can take the summer off without losing ground. You need your lessons.”
Morgan couldn’t keep from chuckling, loving her all the more for her sense of humor. A slow smile curved her mouth, and the room felt the brighter for it.
The Sisters of Bethlehem Springs Collection Page 19
