by Ann Shorey
“Do you think he would?”
Rosemary turned to face her. “I don’t see why not. He respects you and your grandfather. I’ll tell him something turned up at the Independence Day celebration, and you want to talk to him about it.”
“You’re a wonderful friend. Tell him we’ll expect him tomorrow evening, if that’s convenient. I’ll see to it Grandpa stays awake.” Excitement bubbled through her. Perhaps more of their missing merchandise could be recovered. She pictured the stolen firearms back on the shelves and drew a satisfied breath. If their stock were restored, they could get a better price for the mercantile. Royal would be pleased indeed.
“Are you sure you want me to stay downstairs with you when the sheriff comes?” Amy asked Faith the next evening.
Faith patted the sofa cushion next to her. “You’re part of this household. You should share in our celebration at catching the man who robbed our store.”
“We didn’t catch him. Sheriff Cooper did.” Grandpa winked at her. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
The clock struck seven at the same moment they heard the knock. Amy jumped to her feet and dashed to the door. Faith noticed the look of wide-eyed wonder that passed over the sheriff’s face when he stood on the threshold and looked down at her.
He whipped his hat from his head. “Good evening. I was told Miss Faith had something she needed to discuss with me.”
“Indeed she does.” Amy reached for his hat and hung it on the hall tree. “She’d greet you herself, but guess you know she sprained her ankle pretty bad.”
“I heard.” He remained at her side, unmoving.
Faith cleared her throat. “We’re in here, Sheriff,” she said.
He bowed in Amy’s direction and gestured at the parlor entrance. “After you.”
Grandpa gestured with his cane. “Great snakes, Thaddeus. Stop the bowing and scraping and come on in. Faith told me to stay awake until you arrived, but I’m not going to wait all night while you fuss around our Amy.”
“Amy, is it?”
“Amy Dunsmuir,” she murmured, settling beside Faith on the sofa.
The sheriff tucked his thumbs in the pockets of his leather vest, assuming an official pose. He tore his gaze from Amy and focused on Faith. “You have something to show me?”
She opened her hand and held the watch up for his inspection. “This was stolen from the mercantile along with several other watches and firearms. I believe you have the report.”
He took the silver timepiece from her hand, turning it over. “How do you know it was yours?”
“We had half a dozen Walthams. If you’ll look on the back, you’ll see the number 405315 stamped into the silver. Miss Saxon brought me my record book this morning. That’s one of our watches, without a doubt.” She took a small leather-bound volume from the sofa cushion and opened it to a marked page. “Here’s the proof.”
“Supposing you’re right, what do you want me to do about it?”
Did she have to tell him how to do his job? “I’m sure one of the brawlers you arrested on Independence Day lost this. It got kicked under our quilt during the fight. You’ve got them both in jail. All you have to do is determine which one is the thief.” She leaned back, unable to keep a smile of satisfaction from her lips. “I told you Mr. Saxon was innocent.”
The sheriff’s face flushed. He held up two fingers. “One. The men are no longer in custody.” A finger went down. “Two. This doesn’t prove Saxon’s innocence, or the other man’s guilt, for that matter.” He closed his fist.
Faith felt the air whoosh from her lungs. “Did you record the names of the men when you arrested them?”
“Of course. It’s the law.”
“Then can you go after them? At least ask questions?”
Grandpa stirred in his chair. “Speaking of the law, judges don’t look too kindly on incompetence. Maybe you need to put some effort into this.”
Amy looked from Grandpa to the sheriff, her face a picture of confusion. “The store was robbed clear back in May. I remember how kind Miss Faith was to me at the time, in spite of her losses.” She inclined her head in Sheriff Cooper’s direction. “I hope you solve this soon. I’m afraid to step outdoors alone with such men running loose.”
Lowering her eyes, Faith hid her amusement. Amy wasn’t a bit afraid.
The sheriff drew himself up to his full height and smoothed his moustache. “Don’t fret, ma’am. I have a good idea where to find these fellows.” Turning to Faith, he added, “I’ll be back soon with a report.”
After he left, she squeezed Amy’s hand. “I think he’s smitten.”
“I don’t care about that.” She frowned. “Maybe now he’ll stop acting like a lazy hound and get after those varmints. I think it’s terrible he blames Curt.”
“Yes. So do I.” Her voice sounded flat. She’d been thrilled when the watch turned up, but they were no closer to catching the thief. She doubted the sheriff planned to arrest anyone. His focus seemed to be on impressing Amy.
Faith surveyed the exterior of Lindberg’s Mercantile from her seat in Curt’s buggy. She sighed with pleasure. “It’s good to be back. Everything looks the same.”
Curt grinned at her. “You were only at home for two weeks.”
“I missed being here—the customers, the activity, mornings with Rosemary.”
“She missed you too.” He propped her crutches against the hitching rail and clasped her around the waist, swinging her to the boardwalk.
“Well, this is a pretty picture,” said a familiar voice.
She swiveled in the direction of the sound. Her face flushed. “Royal. When did you return?”
He strode toward them. “Not a moment too soon, it seems.” His gaze swept over the crutches and back to Faith. “You’re hurt.”
She leaned on the rail while she fitted the crutch pads under her arms. “I sprained my ankle. This is my first day back at the store. I can’t walk far, so Curt offered to bring me in his buggy. He had to close the livery in order to help me.” Faith knew she was babbling. Stepping forward, she crutched toward the entrance, hoping to end the awkward moment.
“Very good of you, Saxon.” Royal sprang ahead and opened the door for her with a flourish.
Faith turned, hoping the apology in her eyes would be apparent to Curt. “Thank you.”
“No trouble.” Curt climbed into the buggy. “Got to be getting back. I’ll be here at five to take you home.”
“Faith will travel home with me.” Royal growled the words.
Curt glanced between them. “As you wish.” He flicked the reins over the horse’s back. Dust sprayed from the wheels as the buggy sped down the road.
Tears stung Faith’s eyes. Of all the times for Royal to appear. Five more minutes and she’d have been in the store and Curt would have been on his way to the livery. He didn’t deserve the other man’s jealousy, yet she recognized how the scene must have looked to Royal when he first saw them.
Rosemary sent Faith a welcoming smile when she crossed the threshold, then her eyes widened when Royal entered behind her. “Mr. Baxter. What a surprise. We thought you to be in Jefferson City.”
“I returned this morning and came directly here.” He placed a possessive hand on Faith’s shoulder. “She’s promised me an answer to a very important question.”
Faith felt her pulse throb in her throat. The memory of the knife brawl returned. She thought of Grandpa, visiting the cemetery to grieve the loss of most of his family. She was all he had left. It was her responsibility to take him somewhere where peace would overcome his pain.
Royal bent his head close to her ear. “What have you decided?” His warm breath slid over her neck.
She gripped the hand pieces on her crutches. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll marry you.”
27
Royal whooped and swung Faith into the air. Her crutches bounced against a counter and clattered onto the wood floor. With his hands tight around her waist he kissed her, then
set her back on her feet, supporting her with one arm.
Dazed, she glanced at Rosemary in time to see her shocked expression replaced with a polite smile.
“How wonderful for both of you.” Her friend advanced, hands extended, smile fixed in place. “I wish you every happiness. I’ll help all I can with your wedding plans.”
The suddenness of the decision left Faith with nothing to say. She hadn’t thought ahead to wedding plans. Most girls dreamed about the day they’d say “I do.” And here she was, speechless.
Royal came to her rescue. “We haven’t discussed exact plans. I can promise you we won’t have a lengthy engagement. Summer’s winding down and we need to start west as soon as possible.”
At the promise of the trip west, Faith relaxed against his side. She’d done the right thing.
“I must leave you for now. When I fetch you this evening, we’ll talk to your grandpappy.” He gave her waist a squeeze. “Tomorrow we’ll go to the bank and—”
The bell over the door jingled. Marguerite sashayed in, followed by Nelda. “I thought I saw your beautiful stallion tied to the rail outside,” Marguerite said to Royal in a syrupy voice. She paused when she noticed his arm around Faith. She batted her eyelashes. “Excuse me. It appears I’ve interrupted something.”
Faith lifted her chin. “May I help you with a purchase? My fiancé was just leaving.”
“Your . . . fiancé?” Nelda blinked at them, mouth agape.
Marguerite tried for a smile. “My goodness, you’re full of surprises, Major Baxter.”
Royal swept Faith’s crutches from the floor and handed them to her. “I’ll come for you at five.” He dropped a light peck on her cheek before bowing in Marguerite’s direction and striding through the door.
Nelda wandered across the room to the fabric counter and fingered a bolt of peacock blue velvet.
Her companion broke the silence. “I hadn’t heard of your engagement. When did all this take place?” Spots of pink tinged her cheeks.
“This morning, just before you came in.”
“Well, that explains how he could be in Hartfield last week with another girl. Nelda saw them when she was visiting her aunt.”
“I’m afraid she was mistaken.” Faith moved toward Marguerite, her crutches thumping in time with the pounding of her heart. “Royal’s been in Jefferson City.”
Nelda turned, raising a pale eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do. Now, how much of this velvet would you like?”
She backed away from the counter. “None. I was just looking.”
“And you, Marguerite? Some lace, perhaps?”
She shook her head. “I only stopped in to say hello to your . . . fiancé.”
After they left, Faith’s shoulders drooped. If anyone else but Nelda had spread the gossip, she might have believed the story. Still, the thought wouldn’t quite leave her mind. He said he was going to Jefferson City, but she had no way of knowing that’s where he went.
Rosemary patted Faith’s arm. “Don’t let them upset this happy day. You know they’re jealous.”
“If I weren’t trying to keep from falling over these sticks, I’d hug you.”
“We’ll need to get in all the hugs we can.” Tears brimmed in Rosemary’s eyes. “You’ll be gone before summer’s out.”
Faith’s smile disappeared. “I know,” she murmured. “I’m trying not to think about leaving you behind.”
Curt paused inside one of the stalls, a scoop of oats in one hand. A shadowy figure stood in the entrance to the stable. “Anyone here? I’m in need of a carriage.”
The voice couldn’t belong to anyone other than Baxter. Curt dumped the oats into a trough. “Be right with you,” he called. He trudged the length of the stable at a dilatory pace.
Baxter drummed his fingers against the door of the little room Rip used for an office. “I don’t have all day. It’s almost five, and I promised to fetch my fiancée home.” He smirked. “I’ll be renting a carriage from you for a few weeks, until after the wedding.”
Ice raced through Curt’s veins. “Fiancée? Wedding?” He cursed himself for sounding like a parrot.
“Your friend Faith Lindberg has accepted my proposal. Once we’re wed, we plan to take her old grandpappy and head for Oregon.”
The words struck Curt with the force of a blow. “Congratulations. She’s a fine girl. You’re blessed.” His voice sounded as tight as a wagon spring.
“Blessed, or lucky. Whatever you want to call it.”
“I’ll bring the phaeton up for you. Likely you want the best.”
“I’m a little stretched right now, what with supplying for the journey and all. A plain buggy’s fine. Do you have weekly rates?”
Curt ground his teeth. “We do. Paid in advance.”
Baxter counted out several coins, dropping them in Curt’s palm. “Things’ll be better once she sells that store. I’ll get the phaeton from you then.”
“Fine.” Curt placed the grain scoop at the edge of Rip’s desk and scribbled out a receipt. “The buggy you want is out back. Just give me a moment to get it ready.”
Baxter lifted a silver watch from his waistcoat pocket and clicked open the lid. “Make it quick. It’s almost five.”
“Nice watch.” Curt angled to get a closer look while keeping his tone noncommittal.
“Friend gave it to me.” He snapped the timepiece shut, tucking it out of sight. “You getting that buggy or not?”
After Baxter left, Curt grabbed the scoop and flung it against a wall. “Idiot! Why didn’t you tell her how you felt about her?”
Out of habit, he ran his fingers over the scar on his neck. When he lowered his arm, he brushed against the paper he’d carried in his pocket since Ethan gave it to him. He jerked it out. “Won’t need this now.” Crumpling the folded sheet into a ball, Curt sent it flying onto a pile of manure.
Faith perched at one end of the sofa. Royal fidgeted next to her while Grandpa sat with his hands on his knees, staring at both of them. The pain of betrayal shone in his eyes.
“What does it matter now?” he asked. “You want my blessing on something you’ve already decided. I’m disappointed in you, Faith.”
Pain coursed through her at his words. She bit her lip and said nothing.
Royal stood. “Please don’t blame your granddaughter. I took her by surprise this morning. I know I should have called on you first.” He fumbled in his coat pocket and removed a small cloth-covered bundle. “This belonged to my grandmother.” Unfolding the cloth, he showed a ring to Grandpa. “She told me to give it to someone special. With your permission, it will belong to Faith when we’re married.”
“I can hardly refuse now, can I? Faith always gets what she wants. She wants to marry you, fine. I won’t stand in your way.”
A jubilant expression crossed Royal’s face. “Thank you, sir.”
Faith rose, limped over to her grandfather, and kissed his cheek. “It’s for the best,” she whispered. “You’ll see.”
He blew out a weary sigh. “Time will tell.”
Royal took Faith’s left hand in his. “I want to see how the ring looks on you.” He slipped the gold band onto the fourth finger. The garnet and opal setting glowed in the light from the window.
She turned her hand from side to side, noticing colors flickering within the opal. The stone mirrored her heart. To one not wearing the ring, the colors looked like heat, but to her it was a cold fire.
As promised, Royal knocked on the Lindbergs’ door shortly before nine the next morning. When Faith answered, he looked at her in surprise. “No crutches?”
“I want to practice walking. My ankle needs to be stronger before we leave.”
“Good idea, but be careful.” He took her arm. “You could have a setback. We wouldn’t want that to happen.”
“Certainly not.”
When she was settled in the buggy, he flicked the reins over the horse’s back and they rolled into town. Royal cleared his t
hroat. “So, did you tell your grandpappy all our plans? Selling the mercantile, outfitting a wagon?”
Faith hunched her shoulders. “Not just yet. He’s a little upset right now.”
Royal slapped his hand on his leg. “Hang it! He’ll be upset if you don’t tell him. You heard him last night.”
She shrank from the anger in his voice. “He’s my grandfather. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond. They rode in silence until reaching the mercantile. With exaggerated courtesy, he helped her from the buggy and held her arm while she limped to the entrance. “Be ready at noon. I think we should speak to the banker today about the sale of the business.”
“Today?”
“Yes. The sooner the better. Don’t you want to get as far west as possible before winter sets in?”
She nodded.
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “See you at noon.”
Faith pushed open the door, surprised to see Rosemary talking to the salesman from Marblehead Gun Works. Bodie stood sniffing the man’s trouser leg.
Faith dismissed Royal from her mind and moved as quickly as she could toward the empty gun racks. “Mr. Jenner. I’m so glad to see you.” She gave him her biggest smile, thankful he’d returned after the debacle of his last visit.
Rosemary snapped her fingers at Bodie. The two of them moved toward the woodstove, where Mr. Grisbee sat whittling. Faith shook her head, amused. She’d had an audience the last time the salesman called. The only person missing was Mr. Slocum, who was probably patrolling the alleyway.
Mr. Jenner gestured at the wall. “I see no competitors have been here.”
“After your unfortunate visit in May, I felt it only right to place our order with you. We do have the funds to acquire a good shotgun and a Henry rifle.”
“Only one of each?” His voice squeaked.
“For now. Maybe two more next month.” After the work she and Curt had put into collecting bad debts, the thought of the firearms being replaced filled her with satisfaction. She’d tell Curt as soon as she saw him.
