With a wave, she disappeared back into her room to change and fix her hair and makeup. Within the hour, she was on her way downstairs, with her parents following her so they could open the store.
Outside, she used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she meandered down the walk, passing the post office. Slipping into the library, she saw Prissy gathering her purse. "Is everything set?"
Prissy nodded. "Yep. Mama's got a pink frosted cake, sandwiches, Saratoga chips, and lemonade waiting for us." She joined her, and they both stepped back out into the sunshine. "Now the hard part begins—getting Janice to the diner."
"I know. We may just have to drag her. " Valerie shook her head as she thought of the conscientious schoolmarm, who was no doubt spending Saturday the way she always did: cleaning the school house and writing lesson plans. Despite her and Prissy's frequent invitations to lunch and Society meetings, Janice spent most of her time at the school.
Prissy spoke up as they crossed Founder's Avenue and made their way toward the schoolhouse. "You know, Janice is a damn good teacher, but she's got to have fun sometimes."
Valerie chuckled. "She's going to be awfully mad at us for interrupting her work."
Prissy waved her off. "It's Saturday, for Pete's sake, and it's her birthday. Woman's gotta take a day off now and again."
They crossed behind Doc Wilkins' clinic to reach the schoolhouse, and just like any time she passed the small log structure, a chill went down Valerie's spine. She shook it off as best she could, keeping her face impartial so Prissy wouldn't see her discomfort.
At the schoolhouse, they found the door propped open. Janice was inside, moving between the rows of desks with a whisk-broom. Upon their entrance, she glanced up, but didn't cease her sweeping. "Hey Val, Prissy. What are y'all doing here?" She paused for a moment, brushing at the perspiration on her forehead with the back of her hand. "Don't tell me you came to help me clean the schoolhouse."
Valerie shook her head. "We've come to take you to brunch at Ruby's." She lingered outside the door, knowing how irritated Janice would get if they tracked dirt inside while she was cleaning.
With a shake of her head, Janice resumed her sweeping. "I can't. I've got to finish getting this place clean, then I have..."
Prissy interrupted her. "We know, we know, you have lesson plans. It's Saturday, and the students won't be back until Monday." Arms folded over her chest, Prissy leveled a hard gaze on Janice. "So come on to the diner before we drag you out."
Valerie watched in amusement as her two friends stared each other down, each waiting for the other to admit defeat. Finally, Janice sighed. "Fine. But I need to be back here before it gets late, so I can finish up before the sun goes down."
Prissy laced her arm through Janice's and led her outside. "Sure, sure. Now let's go."
The trio walked up the road until they entered Ruby's Diner. As soon as they swung the door open, Janice's students and friends jumped out and yelled, "Surprise!"
The look on Janice's face was one of true surprise, and that pleased Valerie. It hadn't been easy to coordinate the party, since children were notoriously bad at keeping secrets. Somehow, they'd gotten it done, and seeing Janice's watery smile made it worth every bit of trouble she'd gone to.
Janice reached into her skirt pocket for a handkerchief, and dabbed at her eyes. "Thank you all so much for doing this for me. When I moved here in the spring, I had no idea you folks would be so welcoming."
Adam, Janice's nephew, ran up to his aunt. He was clutching a handful of wildflowers, which he handed up to her. "Happy Birthday Auntie Janice."
As Valerie and the others looked on, Janice stooped to kiss the boy's chubby cheek, then took the flowers he offered. "Thank you very much, Adam. You're just as sweet as sugar."
Adam's wide smile touched Valerie's heart so much, she had to hold back tears. Adam was such a wonderful little child. If she could have a son, she'd want one just as darling. Looking at him now, however, only served as a cold, brittle reminder that she would never know the joys of motherhood.
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. This day was about Janice, and she vowed not to spend it brooding in the corner.
With that in mind, she made her way over to the birthday girl to give her a tight hug. As she accepted Janice's thanks for her part in organizing the party, her eyes drifted toward the diner's door.
In stepped the handsome sheriff, and her heart fluttered in her chest like a butterfly in a jar. It seemed no matter where she went, there was no escape from his overwhelming, masculine presence.
**
Noah entered the diner and removed his Stetson, taking in the festive scene. Gregory Simmons, his deputy, followed close behind.
"Lots of people turned out," Gregory commented as he tucked his hat under his arm and ran a hand through his ruddy brown hair. Tall and tan with honest brown eyes, and bearing the European features of his ancestors, Greg always checked his appearance whenever he entered into the company of women.
"I'm not surprised. Miss Smart in an excellent teacher." Intending to offer his well wishes, Noah searched the gathering until he found the schoolmarm, She was easy to spot by the crisp white blouse and black skirt she favored. Standing next to her was none other than Valerie Ridgeway. She was draped in yet another of her fashionable ensembles, this one a rich shade of green. The traveling costume, with its jet buttons running diagonally down the bodice, and black piping around the gathered skirt, accentuated the feminine curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, and the flare of her hips.
As if she could feel him watching her, she swung her gaze his way. Momentary surprise flashed across her face, but she composed herself, letting her expression become flat and impassive.
Gregory's voice cut into his thoughts. "I know you're not eying Miss Ridgeway, Noah. She's a shrew, and colored to boot."
Noah smiled. "I don't care that she's colored, she's a beauty. And even a shrew can be tamed by the right man—haven't you read any Shakespeare?"
Gregory chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. "No. But if you think you're going to bust that bronco, be my guest. It's your funeral." His face reddened with mirth as more chuckles spilled out.
Not one to back down from a challenge, Noah met Gregory's eyes. He wasn't lacking motivation to go after Valerie, as he'd always found her her enchanting. Greg's prodding, however, gave him a convenient excuse to approach her at the present moment. "Don't worry. When I make her mine, I'll be sure to give you a few tips." That said, he strode away from his friend toward the spot where Janice and Valerie were standing.
At his approach, the schoolmarm offered a small, shy smile. "Thank you for coming, Sheriff."
Noah bowed. "It's my pleasure. You're a pillar of this community, and I just wanted to extend my well wishes. Happy birthday, Miss Smart." He grasped her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it briefly before releasing it.
In response to his gesture, Janice's caramel cheeks filled with bright red coloring. "I'm much obliged, Sheriff."
Valerie cleared her throat, as if she were put out by the attention he was paying to Janice. "Hello to you, too, Sheriff."
"Miss Valerie." He reached for her hand, and she snatched it away.
"A simple hello will suffice." Valerie's pursed lips conveyed annoyance, but her brown eyes conveyed something else altogether.
Noah enjoyed watching her squirm. "Whatever you say, my lady."
One of Janice's young charges rushed over. The small girl's exuberance was impossible to ignore as she bounced up and down on her toes. "Miss Smart! Miss Smart! Come see my present I brought for you!"
Janice smiled down at the child. "Alright, Agnes. Calm down." She looked to Noah and Valerie. "Excuse me. I must see this gift before she bursts." She grasped the child's hand and let herself be led away.
Valerie appeared to be scanning the room, possibly for an escape route. "Well, Sheriff, it's been lovely..."
Noah reached for her hand again, this time catching
her off guard. The moment his flesh connected with hers, a sensation shot through him. Her small hand seemed fashioned to be cradled in his own. "It doesn't have to end so soon, Miss Valerie."
This time, she didn't pull away from him. Instead, she fixed those fiery brown eyes on him. "Sheriff, what are you about?"
He held her gaze, letting her know that he wouldn't be put off by her attitude. "Word is that no man besides your papa ever finds himself in your good graces."
She rolled her eyes. "Even if that's the case, what concern is it of yours?"
"It is true. I've seen it with my own eyes." He continued to hold her hand, but didn't draw her near. He didn't want the gossips talking about them, and if he swept her into his arms as he desired to do, word would be out before suppertime.
She let out a long sigh. "I still don't see what you are getting at. Get on with it."
"Fine." He leaned in, and said the next words for her ears only. "I intend to be the man who captures your heart. I am going to court you, woo you, and win you." As he spoke, he could feel her hand trembling inside his. Enjoying the feeling of power, he continued. "Prepare yourself, Miss Valerie."
That drew a gasp from her lips. Pleased with himself, he released her hand and slipped away from her without another word.
He located Gregory near the table, sipping a tumbler of lemonade. He joined his buddy there. "Greg. Why don't you take a look at Miss Valerie now."
They both looked and found her standing in the same spot, looking rather confounded.
Gregory looked impressed. "You got her attention, yes. But let's see how far you can really take this thing. If you can convince her to court you in the next two weeks, I'll take all of your weekend patrols for a month."
"You sound very confident that I'll fail, but I accept." He folded his arms across his chest, squaring off to let Gregory know he wasn't intimidated.
"Folks will talk, you know." Greg held his gaze.
He didn't flinch. "I don't give a damn."
"Don't you want to know what you'll owe me if you fail?"
Noah shook his head. "There's no need. I won't fail." He moved toward the door, and perched his beige Stetson back atop his head. "See you after my afternoon patrol." Not looking back, but pretty sure of Gregory's expression anyway, he swung the door open and strode out into the early afternoon sunshine.
CHAPTER 4
As the cool of evening set in, Valerie pushed her potatoes and meatloaf around her plate. Ever since her encounter with the sheriff, her stomach had been filled with flapping butterflies. Though she loved her mother's well seasoned meatloaf, tonight she had about as much of an appetite as a picky toddler.
Her father, Bernard, had retired to the parlor with his pipe and a book of Tennyson poems, so only she and her mother remained at the table.
"What's the matter, cupcake?" Doris eyed her with concern. "I've never known you to turn down my meatloaf."
With a long sigh, she put her fork down. "I'm sorry, Mama. It's not your food—it's as delicious as always."
Doris didn't press, she simply watched and waited, as was her way.
"I have a bit of an odd problem." She looked down in her lap, wondering how her mother would react to what she was about to say. "The sheriff has made a rather insistent declaration to court me."
In response, Doris broke into a bright smile and clapped her hands together. "Problem? This is a blessing! It's just what we've been waiting for!"
Valerie's head dropped even lower between her shoulders. "We both know it's not that simple."
The unspoken truth passed between them, and Doris' exuberance cooled. "Valerie, I know you feel badly about not being able to carry, but that's not all there is to a marriage."
She cringed as the pain of her situation stung her once again. "I know, Mama. But the men around here don't seem to care much about anything else. They all want a woman who can bear them strong sons." She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. "They want a whole woman, Mama. A real woman."
Doris rose from her seat and circled the table. Leaning low, she wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "You are as much woman as me, or Prissy, or any other female in this town, and don't you forget it. I know this is difficult for you, but I think you should give Sheriff Rogers a chance."
She let herself be enfolded in her mother's embrace, and let the tears fall. "I just don't want to be hurt again. Remember Rupert Barnes?" He was the last man she'd courted far enough to let him know of her condition, and he'd turned tail and ran for the hills so fast he'd left a trail of smoke behind him.
Doris tightened her hold. "Oh, come now. We both know the sheriff is nothing like that spineless Rupert character. His mama had such a hold on him, I'm surprised she didn't lead him about on a leash." She stood, whipped out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, and wiped her daughter's tear streaked face. "Don't run him off, Valerie. He may be just the man you need."
She nodded, doing her best to accept her mother's words. Doris had given her sound advice her entire life, and Valerie knew she had her best interests in mind. There was no good reason not to take her mother's advice—only her own fear held her back.
She drew a deep breath, filling her lungs to calm her frazzled nerves. "Alright, Mama. I promise I'll give him a chance."
Doris smiled and squeezed her cheek. "I'm glad to hear it, cupcake. Now are you going to eat?"
Valerie nodded and picked up her fork. She was almost thirty, and talking to her mother always made her feel better. "Yes. I've gotten my appetite back, thanks to you."
Planting a brief kiss on her forehead, Doris left Valerie alone in the kitchen. In the silence, she finished the savory meatloaf and buttery potatoes, and considered a future as Mrs. Noah Rogers. What would it be like to be the wife of a lawman? She supposed he'd work long hours, and be called away from home at a moment's notice. A man like him would require a truly dedicated wife, one who could deal with the constant demands others would place on his time.
Of course, she might never get that far with him. He had to be the kind of man who could accept her inability to give him babies. She didn't know how he would react to the news, but she would eventually have to tell him. If he turned out to be the kind of man who could accept her barrenness, she'd be as faithful and loving a wife as he could ever dream of.
The sheriff was a handsome man; she'd have to be either oblivious or blind not to see that. That muscular build, the brilliant blue eyes, and the golden blond hair that just grazed his jawline added up to a picture of rugged male beauty. Being his wife would no doubt make her the envy of every sighted woman between here and Boston.
If he turned away from her, though, she didn't think she would ever get over it. Another rejection would likely do her in, and cause her to give up on the idea of marriage, and settle into life as a spinster.
She washed her plate in the basin, and placed it back in the rack with its kin. Her mind still reeling with all the possibilities of a relationship with the sheriff, she wandered down the hall toward her bedroom.
**
Fanning his hand of cards in front of himself, Noah wanted to groan. Instead, he kept his face impassive. Part of the art of poker was being able to maintain the perfect bluff, and he'd perfected his over the years since he'd first learned the game as a hotheaded youth. Just because his hand wasn't worth a pile of horse pies, didn't mean his buddies had to know.
Around the table in the Crazy Eights saloon sat his regular poker mates—Roderick Emerson, the town's main architect, Thaddeus Stern, the only child of the Mayor and his wife, and Ricardo Benigno, the Spanish sea captain turned farmer. The men alternated with two others, Gregory, and young Uriah Stevens, whose mother Eulah served as the town's undertaker, but there were always four of them present at the table for every game.
It was nearing four o'clock, the time they usually ended things so they could clear out before the undesirables moved in. After five, the place would be swimming wi
th lumber workers, farmers, and day laborers who often imbibed too much, and well-dressed card sharps out to separate folks from their hard earned money.
This was the last hand, and Noah was determined to make his friends think he had the best hand a man could get. With all the confidence of someone holding a full house, he scooped up a handful of chips and pushed them toward the center of the table. "I'm in for forty dollars."
Thaddeus, the youngest man present, gave the same wide-eyed look he always displayed when he was being outgunned at the card table. His tell made his decision obvious even before he spoke the words. "I fold."
All eyes turned to Rod Emerson, who casually smoked his pipe as if he hadn't a care in the world. With the cards fanned in his right hand, he slipped the pipe from his lips with his left, just long enough to say, "I'm in." He scuttled his chips toward the pile.
Ricardo, his eyes narrowed as if deep in thought, pursed his lips. "Hmmm. The sea is a harsh mistress, but the hand of fate can be even harsher."
Noah glanced his way. "I'm assuming you fold, Captain?"
Running a broad hand through his dark, wavy hair, Ricardo sighed and laid his cards down. "I'm out, gentleman."
Rod Emerson removed his pipe from his lips, setting it on the table. He lay his cards face down on the table, and hooked his thumbs behind his red suspenders, gliding them up and down. "It's just you and me, Sheriff. Ready to show your hand?"
Recognizing Rod's attempt at intimidating him, Noah gave him a half smile. "Why not show yours first, Emerson?" He leaned back in the chair, propping his boots up on the table. "I got nothing but time."
Rod cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Well, when a hands this good, I don't need to rush to show it." He sat back as well, and folded his big arms across his chest.
Noah shook his head, never taking his eyes off his opponent. "Sounds to me like you're full of bluster. Why don't you just admit defeat now, before I go home with more of your coin that I'm already about to take?"
Loving the Lawman (Roses of Ridgeway) Page 3
