“If I have anything new, shouldn’t it be black?”
Lavender shook her head. “Black is for old widows. Young ones don’t have the time for it.”
“But what will he think when he comes back and sees me in all this finery? He’ll know what we’re doing.”
“All he will see is you, baby, the way you were meant to be seen, not looking like some old ragamuffin.”
“You don’t know him—or the problem.”
“Then fill me in while we get you dressed.” Lavender carried the bags into Ellie’s bedroom, stopping in the door to scrutinize the bed.
Ellie blushed in spite of herself. Then she quickly regained her composure. “He sleeps in the spare room, Lavender,” she chastised.
Lavender frowned. “Oh, well, that’ll change in time. Which gown? I think the yellow?”
Ellie nodded. “He’s sure to wonder why I’ve started wearing fancy clothes all of a sudden,” she called after Lavender, who had taken the water pitcher into the kitchen, where Ellie heard her fill it from the bucket.
“We’ll say you were having a few things made up and I brought them out when they were finished.”
Taking the cloth Lavender wrung out in rose-scented water, Ellie began to bathe off, worrying all the while. “That’s a lie.”
“A small one. We women are called upon to supply fictional information from time to time. I can’t see it will do much harm in the afterlife, seeing how it’s certain to improve both your situations here and now.”
“That’s definitely a matter of opinion. And not his.” She sucked in her breath while Lavender tightened the laces on the corset, then slipped a delicately embroidered corset cover over it. Ellie wished she had time to admire one garment at a time, they were all so beautiful.
“What is his problem?” Lavender demanded, handing Ellie one of the three petticoats she had shaken out.
“He’s afraid I’m falling in love with him.”
Lavender’s eyes found Ellie’s. “Is that bad?”
“He’s determined not to settle down. He wants to go to California and…oh, Lavender, what difference does it make? He’s a wandering man, footloose. I have no business falling in love with a man like that.”
“Have you?”
Ellie chewed her bottom lip, nodding quite without thinking.
“And how does he feel about you?” Lavender began to button the myriad of tiny buttons that ran up the back of the bodice.
“He’s resisting with all his might.” Ellie stopped abruptly, trying to catch her breath in the too-tight corset. She rarely wore one anymore, and now she knew why. Suddenly an additional worry surfaced. “Lavender, stop. I’ll never be able to unbutton this gown by myself!”
Finished, Lavender gave her a pat on the bustle and turned her by the waist, inspecting as she went. “What’s the use having a man in the house, baby, if not to help out?”
“Lavender!”
“Time’s wasting. I’ll hang the rest of these things in the wardrobe while you do something with your hair. Where are those lovely silver combs that belonged to Benjamin’s…ah, and Kale’s mother?”
Chapter Eight
“He’ll take one look at me and ride straight out of here,” Ellie predicted. Once she had dressed, she and Lavender carried ladder-back chairs from the house onto the porch, where they now sat enjoying the soft air of a late-fall afternoon. Since it was nippy out, Ellie covered her yellow gown with a knitted wool shawl, a white one she had saved from her mother’s things.
“No man ever left a woman because she looked too pretty,” Lavender objected.
“He’ll know why you brought these clothes.”
Lavender scowled. “And why did I bring them? Because you needed your spirits lifted, and because Mrs. Wiginton needed the money she was out for that preacher’s wife, and since the clothes were just your size—”
Ellie laughed nervously. Her stomach felt tied in knots, as much as its girded state would allow, that is. “Why are you trying to catch a gunfighter for me, Lavender? You don’t even know him.”
“That man’s no gunfighter. Benjamin always said his brother Kale had been a sweet, sensitive child, and that the scrapes he got himself into were because he was taking up for an underdog somewhere. Besides, I saw for myself how he acted when he came to my place.”
“How’s that?” Ellie demanded.
“Concerned. About you, about Benjamin. And angered over what he took to be Armando’s derisions.”
“Armando’s what?”
Ignoring the question Lavender nodded toward the road where it meandered down the hillside. “Here comes your Prince Charming.”
“Lavender!” Rising quickly, Ellie hugged her guest. “Thank you for the clothes…I hope. You’d best be getting back to town now.”
The horse and rider came closer. Passing in front of the house on his way to the barn, Kale tipped his hat. From the way he craned his neck, Ellie knew he was trying to figure out who their company was.
Snake came around the side of the porch. “The team’s hitched, Lavender.”
“Good.” Ellie nudged Lavender toward the steps.
“We’ll be staying for supper, Snake,” Lavender replied. “Ellie’s been good enough to invite us—”
“That was before—”
“And from the smell of that delicious roast, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Venison, you said? From the side of antelope Armando brought yesterday?”
“Lavender,” Ellie pleaded. “Please.”
Lavender turned cheery eyes on Ellie. “Don’t worry, baby. I promise to be quiet as a mouse. I just want to check out this gunfighter of yours once more; perhaps I made too hasty a judgment.”
“You!” Ellie sighed. “I know what you’re up to, and you’d better not run him off!”
Lavender hugged Ellie. “I’m a good judge of men, baby, and I’ll tell you this: if a pretty dress or an old geezer like me can run a man off, you’re better off without him. Come on, I’ll help you get the table set.”
Inside Ellie took down the dishes while Lavender went about doing all sorts of unnecessary things…things that made Ellie even more nervous, like lighting every lamp in the room and the candles on the mantel.
“Lavender, you’ll burn the place down,” Ellie objected, knowing this too was something different, a romantic touch that Kale would be sure to notice and wonder at.
“After all the trouble I went to to fetch that dress, and you to wear it, we don’t want him to miss a single detail.”
By the time she heard the back door squawk, Ellie was fit to be tied, what with anticipating Kale’s reaction to her new gown and worrying over what Lavender would say at supper.
She didn’t have long to wait for Kale’s reaction, for when the door squawked, she was in the process of lifting the Dutch oven from the fireplace to carry to the table. At the sound she automatically glanced toward the door in time to see the startled look on his face.
“Howdy,” he blurted out, just before his words were cut off by an intense perusal of her from head to foot. He didn’t miss a thread of her gown, nor a strand of her hair, most of which was pinned on top of her head, held in place by the silver combs. Then his eyes found hers, and she knew Lavender had been right. The gown pleased him.
When he opened his mouth to speak again, not much came out. He cleared his throat, turning to hang his gun belt on the peg inside the back door.
Ellie struggled to still her jitters. She wished Lavender had gone back to town, and suddenly for more reasons than one.
She set the Dutch oven on a couple of folded towels, striving for presence of mind. “Kale, this is Lavender Sealy. I believe you met her in town.”
“Howdy, Miz Sealy.” Kale nodded a greeting to Lavender, who stood beside the fireplace studying the old plat. He squinted against the bright lights, feeling like a latecomer to a party. “What’s the celebration?”
“Nothing,” Ellie hurried to assure him, only to have Lavender con
tradict her words.
“Good evening, Mr. Jarrett. We’re having a party to celebrate Ellie’s new gowns. What do you think—?”
“Kale,” Ellie interrupted. “Why don’t you bring the chairs from the porch? And call Snake. We’re ready to eat.”
Kale headed for the porch. He wasn’t sure what he had walked into, but it was beginning to resemble a den of rattlers. If he hadn’t been so hungry, he assured himself, he would saddle up and ride into town.
Once they were seated at the table, Ellie guided the conversation toward safe harbors. The tension eased somewhat when she asked Kale about his trip to the Circle R.
He finished his bite of roast, bit off a hunk of lightbread, and heaved a sigh. She knew he was as uneasy about the situation developing in this room as she was herself.
“Didn’t learn much,” he answered. “Neither of the Raineys was home. I left word that if they tried to take possession of this place on Friday, they’d be met by a contingent of rangers.”
Ellie’s mouth fell open.
Kale shrugged. “Figured you’d take to a little white lie quicker’n you would to a full-fledged shootout.”
She dropped her eyes to her plate.
“Anyhow,” he continued, “some of the family should arrive by then. The Raineys likely wouldn’t be able to tell one body of horsemen from another, unless they got close enough to see the badge.”
Ellie picked at her food. She wondered whether he had really considered her feelings as he professed, or if he had merely related the story that way. A little voice inside her heart told her it didn’t matter when he thought about her feelings; the fact was, he had.
“Funny thing at the Circle R, though,” he went on. “That puddin’-foot alleged to belong to Holt was in the pen. Newt stuck by his story that the animal had been missing off and on the past two months. He claimed the horse turned up at the pens this morning after Holt had already left.”
Ellie frowned. “Why would that matter? It doesn’t make sense.”
Kale agreed. “Unless they want us to believe the perpetrator is setting Holt up, using his horse to harass you.”
“Benjamin’s horse had been well cared for,” Ellie said. “If it wasn’t by the Raineys, then by whom?”
Kale was in the process of taking another helping of roast when she spoke the last word. He looked up and caught her eye, and for a moment they were alone with only the memory of another conversation between them.
Ellie swallowed, even though she didn’t have anything in her mouth at the time.
Grinning self-consciously, Kale finished heaping his plate. He took his time cutting a perfect bite of meat, then worked it onto the tines of his fork before answering. “I don’t know. Nothing about the setup makes sense.”
“It’s the treasure,” Snake put in. It was his first contribution to the conversation, and after making it, he preened from Ellie to Kale to Lavender.
“What treasure?” Kale demanded.
Snake nodded toward the plat. “The treasure that’s supposed to be buried on this place.”
“Not Holt or Matt Rainey,” Kale objected. “They’re not after treasure.”
“I agree,” Lavender said. “Ranchmen don’t give a hoot or a holler about buried treasure. Besides, if there was treasure here, someone would have found it by now. Those old stories don’t hold a thimbleful of truth.”
“Costello says they do,” Snake persisted. “He says the treasure is here somewhere.”
Ellie laughed. “He and Benjamin looked over every part of this ranch. Like Lavender said, if there were treasure on this place, they’d have found it.”
Lavender cut a piece of meat, speared it with her fork, and held it toward Kale. She directed her words to Ellie, however. “This antelope is the best I’ve tasted in years. I assume it’s more of Armando Costello’s doings.” She turned eyes on Kale. “Ellie’s told you what good care he takes of her?”
Ellie glared at Lavender. But from the corner of her eye she saw Kale dislodge the meat from his fork and spear a piece of potato instead.
“By the way, Ellie,” Lavender continued, “Armando said to tell you he’ll be out tomorrow. He wanted to come today, but I convinced him to stay behind since you and I had some…ah, some things to take care of.”
Furious, Ellie scraped her chair back and stood up. “I’ll serve dessert now, Lavender, so you and Snake can be on your way. You’re sure to be needed at the Lady Bug.” But when she turned toward the kitchen, Kale’s reply almost stopped her in her tracks.
“You can tell Costello to save his energy. I bagged a couple of wild turkeys this afternoon.”
Without turning around, Ellie could visualize the satisfaction on Lavender’s face. She had goaded Kale into a response. What was it she’d said earlier? Jealousy was good for a man. Well, it wasn’t good for a woman. Perspiration dampened her armpits, and this her new dress.
As if privy to her thoughts, Lavender continued behind her, her voice lowered to conspiratorial tones.
“Doesn’t Ellie look divine in that gown, Mr. Jarrett? I’m sure you agree, but I haven’t heard you say so. Take it from one who knows, a woman needs a compliment from time to time.”
Ellie turned so swiftly the layer cake almost slipped off the plate in its pool of wild plum sauce. “That is quite enough, Lavender. For your information, Kale compliments me—”
She stopped, realizing what she was saying. Kale’s wide-eyed expression echoed her own.
“I mean…ah, my cooking.” She set the cake in the center of the table and proceeded to cut a huge slice which she transferred to Kale’s plate. “My cooking,” she reiterated. “Why, he eats more than any man I ever saw.”
“I only meant—” Lavender began.
“I didn’t wear this gown to draw compliments, Lavender.” She stared at her guest’s own attire. “I couldn’t very well let you feel uncomfortable, decked out in your finery the way you are.”
Lavender behaved after that—not because she had been chastised, Ellie knew, but for the simple reason that she had gained as much ground as she intended to for the night. Ellie cringed at the days ahead. Lavender Sealy was still miles ahead of her in experience with men; she always would be…a dismal fact of which Ellie was reminded yet again when Lavender sent Snake to harness the team, then shooed Kale along with him on the pretext that she needed a private word with Ellie. While Ellie cleared the table, however, Lavender disappeared.
Glancing out the back door, Ellie saw her benefactor in conversation with Kale. What now? She had half a mind to charge out there and set Lavender straight. But she knew that would be impossible. She would only end up embarrassing herself and Kale even worse than they were already embarrassed! She searched her mind for some way to explain the situation to Kale in order not to run him off immediately.
Kale Jarrett was the first to admit his inexperience with women. The fact that he’d never tangled with them left him unprepared for the assault Lavender Sealy waged on his intentions. When she sashayed around the corner of the house, beckoning him with the crook of her finger, he considered not going. He ended up listening to her, however.
“A word of warning,” Lavender began. “That girl in there is like a daughter to me. You likely have your ideas of what I’m like, but Ellie’s not one of us. She’s a lady, and don’t you let anyone—especially not Armando Costello, who has set his cap for her, by the way—convince you different.”
“I know that,” Kale replied.
“Figured as much. What I’m not sure you know, though, is how to treat a lady. If I ever hear that you’ve mistreated her, Jarrett, you’d better have found that damned tunnel that’s supposed to be underneath this house. You’ll need it to hide in, because I’ll come after you. That’s a promise.”
“You don’t need to worry, Miz Sealy. In case you forgot, Ellie’s my sister-in-law. I intend to see her well taken care of.”
Lavender studied Kale through the pale moonlight. He wondered what she was
thinking, what she would say next.
“It’s Miss Sealy, Jarrett. Miss. I, for one, don’t need a man to take care of me.” She turned her attention to the darkened shape of the house. “Ellie does.”
He didn’t tell Ellie the things Lavender had said, not even when she asked him. He knew it would rile her, and he didn’t want to do that.
She’d come out to the porch to wave good-bye to Lavender and Snake, and they remained standing there together, watching the surrey take the hill. The moonlight did magical things to her hair, as the candlelight had done inside the cabin. He’d been hard-pressed not to stare, but with Lavender carrying on, he’d managed to restrain himself. Now he let his eyes roam over her hair, her face.
When she stopped waving at the departing surrey, she turned, a frown on her forehead.
“I’m really sorry about Lavender,” she said. “You and she are of like mind, it seems.”
Kale smiled, hearing not her words so much as the softness of her voice, seductively low and tempting. Against his better judgment, he reached to stroke a strand of hair back from her face. “What’s that?” he questioned.
“She thinks I need a man.”
Kale paused at her frankness, then recalled Lavender’s talk at dinner. “We definitely disagree on who that man should be,” he said.
His seriousness called to mind Lavender’s theory about jealousy. “Eligible men are scarce around Summer Valley,” she teased. “If you intend to find me someone before you leave for California—saying I agreed with the two of you that I need a man, which I don’t—but saying I did, Armando would be the obvious choice.”
“Can’t see how you figure that.”
“He’s willing,” she argued her point, “and he was Benjamin’s very best friend.”
Her nearness was intoxicating enough, without the heady scents of baking and rosewater, and although he had intended to remain aloof, he found himself drawn closer and closer to her. Cupping her face in his hand, he brought it to his.
And although Ellie had intended to resist, her need was too great. Her heart beat inside the confines of the corset Lavender had laced a bit too tightly, and when his lips brushed hers, tingles streaked like lightning down to her toes. She swayed toward him and he steadied her with a hand to her waist.
Sweet Autumn Surrender Page 15
