Beth’s stomach began to roil again. “I . . . I just . . .”
“She enclosed a description of the brooch.” Samuel set the letter back on the bed. “I have to ask, Beth . . . I saw a brooch that matched that description in your small jewel case the other day. Remember when I was looking for a pin when I lost a button, and you told me where to find one?”
“Yes, of course, but that was my mother’s brooch, not Mrs. Duesenberry’s. It’s the only memento I have of hers—I’ve kept it safely tucked away since I was ten years old. And what does she mean, my father was preaching false doctrine? He never!” She paused, remembering. “He was a bit disoriented at the end, believing that the congregation had turned away from the correct path, but when he died of a stroke a short time later, his doctor said it’s entirely possible he’d had a small stroke previously that altered his perception of reality.”
“When did he start becoming disoriented?” Samuel asked.
“I noticed it about a week before he passed. It might have been a little longer, but that’s when it became truly noticeable. And I never, ever heard him say anything from the pulpit that wasn’t doctrine.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, wishing it would settle down, grateful she hadn’t eaten yet. “Why is she doing this? What could she possibly have to gain?”
Samuel’s expression hadn’t changed. “Do you have any evidence that the brooch belonged to your mother?”
“I . . . Are you saying you don’t believe me?” She met his gaze. “Am I under suspicion?”
“I’m trained to investigate, Beth. I have to look into every accusation, regardless of where it comes from or who it’s against. Otherwise, I’m not doing my duty.”
She pressed her lips together. How could he think she’d do something like that? On the other hand, he didn’t know her at all. She’d come here from across the country with no references or reputation, and all he had to go on was the word of a quirky matchmaker.
Miss Hazel . . .
“Excuse me, please,” she said, throwing back her blanket and struggling to her feet. “I need to pay a call.”
He held up a hand. “You’re not in any condition to leave yet. Please sit down.”
“I’m in a perfect condition. I have something to do, and I need to do it.” She bent down and grabbed her shoes, experiencing just a bit of dizziness when she stood back up, and carried them into the kitchen to put them on. Samuel followed, leaning against the doorframe while she fastened them up.
“Where are you going?” he asked, looking helpless.
“I can clear my name, and I’m going to find my witness,” she replied. She stood up and grabbed her sweater.
“Can’t I go for you?”
She paused, resting her hand on the back of her chair. “I should probably let you, but at the moment, I’m feeling too prideful to accept. I wish you’d believed me outright, but I’m trying to understand why you don’t. I just need a minute to clear my head, all right? A moment without you looking at me like that.” She waved a hand at him. “I’ll be back.”
She stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. The chilly air danced across her cheeks, making her feel more alert than she had all day.
It was almost dinnertime, making her think that Miss Hazel could probably be found in the hotel dining room. She entered the busy building and checked, but no Miss Hazel. She was about to ask at the desk, but then she saw the woman bustling toward her across the lobby.
“Oh, my dear, I’ve certainly heard some stories today,” she said, taking Beth’s arm. She turned to the desk clerk. “Could you please have a light dinner for two sent up to my room, please?”
“Of course, ma’am,” the clerk replied, and Miss Hazel led Beth to her suite.
“Now,” she said when Beth was situated on a comfortable sofa, “tell me the truth about everything. You wouldn’t believe how my brain’s been buzzing all day, imagining every possible thing.”
Beth pulled in a deep breath and exhaled. “Well, first, tell me what you’ve heard.”
“That you were seen wandering down Main Street nine sheets to the wind,” Miss Hazel exclaimed.
“Oh, that.” It seemed so long ago, she’d all but forgotten it.
“What do you mean? Has something else happened?”
“Yes, but one thing at a time is best.”
She explained what had happened with Dr. Kinderhawk and his amazing, marvelous elixir, and Miss Hazel gasped. “You mean he all but poured it down your throat?”
“Not exactly . . . although, now that I think about it, yes.”
“That has to be considered some kind of assault. He should be arrested!”
“I don’t know about that, but it would be nice if he wouldn’t do that anymore.”
A knock came at the door, and Miss Hazel let in a young waiter with a tray. He set it down on a small table and left, Miss Hazel springing into action to serve up the meal and give Beth a plate. They ate with their food balanced in their hands, as there wasn’t a large-enough table for a meal in the room.
Beth took a tentative bite of her roll, then another, glad to see that everything had settled down.
“I know Sinead’s up in arms about these salesmen,” Miss Hazel went on. “It’s quite ridiculous, the way they think they can flimflam everyone into spending their entire life fortunes on rubbish. And I don’t know if you heard, but Dr. Jenkins has simply disappeared. I suppose he couldn’t stand the pressure. He’s been replaced by a nice man named Porter. And they’ve given Sinead an office.” She took a bite of her salad, then looked at Beth seriously. “What else is going on, dear? Or do you need a minute to eat first?”
“No, I’m all right.” Beth studied the roll in her hand as she spoke. She wanted to be glad for her friend, and indeed she was, but her heart was too heavy at the moment. “Do you remember my garnet brooch? The one I wore to the Easter service this year?”
“Of course,” Miss Hazel replied immediately. “And you wore it to the Christmas service the year before that. I remember it because you wear so little jewelry as a general rule, it rather stood out. Didn’t it belong to your mother?”
Beth exhaled with relief. “Are you willing to give a statement that you remember it?”
Miss Hazel sat up straighter. “Have you been accused of something, my dear?”
Beth nodded. “Miss Duesenberry says I took a brooch from her house when I left, and Samuel says the description matches the brooch in my box. He doesn’t believe me, Miss Hazel. He says he’s just doing his job and that he has to investigate every angle, but you should have seen his face—he’s so disappointed in me.”
“Well, I’m disappointed in him for not believing you!” Miss Hazel gave a decided nod of her head. “You’re his wife! He should trust you above anyone!”
“That’s what I thought too at first, but you realize, he’s only known me a week. How could he believe me with no background at all? And the worst part, really, is that Mrs. Duesenberry said Father had been teaching false doctrine this entire last year!”
Miss Hazel almost dropped her plate. She quickly set it down and just stared at Beth. “She said what?”
Beth nodded. “She said he wasn’t fit to be a pastor any longer.”
“But . . . All right, this is just ridiculous. I’m rather glad I’m heading home tomorrow. I promise you, young lady, I’m going to find her and give her a piece of my mind. I’ll speak to your husband and give him a statement that you’ve had that brooch for as long as I’ve known you, and I’ll also testify as to Reverend James’ abilities and appropriateness in the pulpit. I just simply can’t understand her motivations for doing such a thing. Why would she want to sully your father’s good name, and yours?”
“What if she really did have a brooch stolen, and what if it is similar to mine?” Beth asked. “It could be an honest mistake, couldn’t it?”
Miss Hazel fixed her with a look. “You’re always had the gift of looking for the best in people—I admire tha
t. But you’re stretching too far with this one—how many coincidences would that be in a row? No, she’s after something, and she’s concocted all these wild tales in her attempt to get it. Come now, let’s eat and then we’ll go talk to your husband. This has gone on long enough.”
Chapter Nine
Samuel paced the floor of his cabin, wondering where Beth had gone and when she’d return. If another ten minutes went by, he’d go out looking for her. He had to set a deadline for himself so he wouldn’t go crazy. He probably should have stopped her from leaving, but she’d wanted to go so desperately, and he didn’t want to lord over her or be unkind. His father had always treated his mother with dignity and respect, and that’s how he wanted to treat Beth.
But what if the accusations were true? Had he just married a thief and a liar? He couldn’t imagine it of her—she was so sweet, so innocent. But didn’t thieves learn how to appear that way so they wouldn’t get caught so easily? What if her gentle ways were part of her act?
The door opened, and he spun around to see Beth entering the cabin, followed closely by Miss Hazel.
“There you are, Beth. I’ve been so worried—”
“I should hope so, young man.” Miss Hazel strode up to him and poked her finger into the center of his chest. “You should be very worried after all this girl has been through today. First, getting attacked on the street by that felon, and now being accused by her own husband!”
“It’s all right, Miss Hazel,” Beth said as she hung up her sweater. “Let’s just tell him what we’ve come to say.”
“Won’t you have a seat?” Samuel offered somewhat stiffly after that tongue-lashing.
Miss Hazel sat down and crossed her arms over her stomach. “I’ve come here to give you my official statement. Beth has in her possession a garnet brooch that was given to her by her mother. I’ve seen her wear it on several occasions over the years, and I’d recognize it anywhere.”
Beth stepped into the other room and returned immediately. “Is this it, Miss Hazel?”
“It’s the very same brooch.”
Samuel nodded, relief flooding him like a waterfall. “Do you remember the first time you saw her wear it, Miss Hazel?”
The woman looked up at the ceiling, her lips pursed. “That would have been the year Timmy Yeoman fell off the organ bench and split his lip during the Christmas service. I remember because Beth picked him up to soothe him, and he rested his head on her shoulder right next to the brooch. So that would have been five years ago.”
“I’m very glad to hear it, Miss Hazel.” Samuel moved to the other side of the room and pulled out a piece of paper. “If you’d be so kind as to write that all down?”
Miss Hazel raised an eyebrow at him, but began to do as she was asked.
Samuel reached out and caught Beth’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Beth. Can you forgive me? I wanted to believe you without question, but I have to question everything.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “And maybe in time, you’ll learn to trust me.”
Once Miss Hazel finished her statement, she rose. “I’ve already told Beth this, but now I’ll tell you. As soon as I get home, I’m going to investigate and get to the bottom of this. I can’t understand how Esther Duesenberry could be so horrible and mean, but I’ll wrestle it out of her soon enough.”
“Thank you, Miss Hazel,” Samuel said, wondering if he shouldn’t ask Easton to deputize the woman before she left so she’d have full investigative rights. He’d like this resolved even more than she did.
“And get that girl tucked up with a cup of hot tea!” Miss Hazel commanded before she stalked out of the cabin.
Samuel turned to where Beth was standing. “Would you like some tea?”
“No, I’m just going to bed,” she replied. Then she paused. “Maybe . . . maybe it’s a bathtub night.”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “All right,” he said, grabbing his pillow from off the bed. “Rest well.”
***
Everyone gathered at the station to see Miss Hazel off. She gave the girls hugs, whispered last words of advice in their ears, told Beth to stand strong, and then waved her handkerchief off the back platform as the train pulled out of view. Beth felt a piece of her heart leave with that train. Miss Hazel hadn’t been quite like a mother, but she’d been an aunt or some sort of crazy relative, and Beth would miss her horribly.
“I believe some shopping is in order,” Claire said as they walked away from the station. “Will you come with me, Beth?”
“Of course I will. I’d never pass up a shopping trip.” She had planned to get to work on Samuel’s scarf, but she still wasn’t sure what she thought about Samuel, and to be honest, she wasn’t in a rush to figure it out.
As they walked, Claire said, “I have some terrible news. A man named Roger Hastings was spotted here at the health institute. Nathaniel says he’s a suspected counterfeiter—and he killed Nathaniel’s brother some years back.”
“Oh, no.” Beth couldn’t believe it. “How horrible. Do they have evidence to arrest him?”
“Not yet. I volunteered to get a job at the hotel and see what I could find out, but Nathaniel wouldn’t hear of it. Not even for two seconds.”
“I don’t blame him,” Beth said. “That would be horribly dangerous. And look—Rocky agrees with me.”
The two girls looked into the trees along the path. Rocky stood there, shaking his head back and forth.
“Maybe he’s telling me to go for it,” Claire said.
“No. I speak fluent reindeer, and that’s not one bit what he said.”
As they entered the store, Beth glanced around. She’d realized as they approached the building that the last time she’d been here, she’d been . . . a little drunk . . . and she wasn’t eager to try to explain. But the shopkeeper’s assistant was running the store that day, and after peeking around to make sure the man himself wasn’t there, she began to browse. Beth asked how Claire and Nathaniel were getting along, and she was pleased to hear her friend say that she was very happy. She was glad when Claire didn’t return the question. That would have been difficult to explain.
They spoke for a moment about their Christmas plans, and then the door opened to let in new customers. Beth followed Claire along the aisle, gathering up cinnamon and pepper, but was brought up short when Claire came to a sudden halt.
“What are you doing?” she asked her friend, who had jumped back as though hiding.
Claire shushed her and then motioned to the man at the counter. “That’s the man I was telling you about.”
Beth ducked down and peered through the shelves to get a good look. “The counterfeiter?” she whispered.
Claire nodded.
He stood near the fabric with two young women Beth supposed were his daughters from the way one complained about needing a new dress for the Christmas Ball. Her sister pointed out the difficulty they’d have in finding someone who could sew that quickly, and there was nothing ready-made to be had. The first girl was adamant, though—she would have a new dress or else.
Claire turned and looked at Beth, her eyes alight with an idea. “No, don’t you dare,” Beth hissed. Could Claire really be thinking about going against her husband like that when all he wanted was to keep her safe?
Claire insisted it was the perfect way to investigate the man, and that she’d just have to make sure Nathaniel didn’t find out. Then before Beth could do anything to stop her, she stepped out of their hiding place and approached the family, offering her services as a seamstress.
Beth held her breath as the arrangements were made. Roger Hastings had eyes as cold as steel, and she was worried for her friend. What was Claire getting into?
At the same time, how could she pass up the chance to help convict the man who killed Nathaniel’s brother?
Beth shook her head, knowing Claire really had no choice. She might be the Mounties’ best bet at justice. She only wished it wouldn’t put her friend in so much dan
ger—that man terrified her.
***
Beth made dinner that night as usual, but she was so distracted worrying about Claire, she burned the biscuits and had to mix up another batch. She propped the front door open to let out the smoke, hoping the smell would dissipate before Samuel got home.
No such luck. He poked his head into the room and then entered all the way, sniffing the air. “Beth? Is everything all right?”
She froze, then smiled, trying to look normal and knowing she was failing. She wished more than anything that she could open up and tell him what was bothering her, but there were two problems with that. First, she hadn’t decided yet if she was mad at him, and second, she couldn’t ruin Claire’s secret. “I’m just tired and burned the biscuits,” she said. That part was true. “I’ve also been thinking about the accusations made about my father.” Additionally true.
Samuel hung up his hat and unfastened his top button. Then he crossed the floor and took her hands in his. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else, and I owe you the biggest apology I’ve ever given anyone in my life,” he said softly. “Yes, I’m a Mountie, but I’m also your husband, and that’s a vow I took before God. You deserve my loyalty first and foremost, and everyone else second. I’ve never been a husband before and I didn’t realize what it meant, but I do realize it now, and I want to do better.” He searched her gaze with his. “Can you forgive me, Beth?”
Of course she did. Between the flecks in his eyes and his earnest tone of voice and the way it felt to have him standing so near, she couldn’t possibly turn him away. But she also couldn’t let him off the hook so easily, either. “Are you sure you aren’t saying this just so you can get out of sleeping in the bathtub?” she said doubtfully.
“Um . . .” He shook his head. “You’re something else, Mrs. Murray.”
“And what might that be?”
“Something wonderful. Something I never dreamed would happen to me, and now that it has, I’m so grateful.”
RNWMP: Bride for Samuel (Mail Order Mounties Book 12) Page 5
