Honoring Her Heart

by Amelia C. Adams

  Mary felt like some kind of royalty, the way everyone was fawning over her. Patty sat back with a smirk, as though she was enjoying the spectacle. The food was delicious, as was the tea, but Mary had never felt comfortable being the center of attention, and this was no different.

  “That was wonderful,” she told Regina when the woman came around to ask her opinion. “Thank you so much. We do need to get going, though—and I truly don’t mean for you all to help. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “Nonsense,” Regina said again. “You simply must take Toria with you—her husband writes up the ledger nicely and will do your math correctly, but I don’t think he’s the one you want helping you choose out your clothes. And if Toria’s going, the rest of us must too—why should she have all the fun?”

  Regina’s logic was a little flawed, but Mary decided not to argue. Clearly, these women were excited to help, and perhaps it wouldn’t be as terrible as she was imagining.

  Ariadne stayed behind to keep an eye on the shop, rocking little Edward in her arms, and the other ladies trailed down the street behind Mary. She felt like a mother duck leading her babies to water.

  Once they reached the mercantile, Toria took over. “You must look at this blouse,” she said, pressing it into Mary’s hands. “When it came in the other day, I knew it was meant for someone special—wouldn’t it look wonderful on her, ladies?”

  The women nodded in agreement. “With this skirt,” Hannah Wheeler added, holding it up.

  Mary fingered the material. It was so soft, and the shades of green and yellow reminded her of the drive she’d taken with Christopher the day before. Everything in the mountains had been verdant and kissed with sunlight.

  “And here’s some pink,” Patty said, laying a dress across Mary’s arm.

  Within just a few minutes, the women chose out four lovely things for Mary to wear, and they’d also helped her gather up the kitchen staples she knew she needed. Mr. Jackson dutifully recorded everything in the ledger, and he promised to have everything delivered later that afternoon.

  “Am I too brazen to be making all these changes at once?” Mary asked Seffi Morgan. She’d always admired the woman’s down-to-earth approach to life, and as Seffi was a widow too, she would know how things ought to be.

  Seffi patted her arm. “Not one bit, my dear. Life is to be enjoyed, not endured. It’s so good to see you embracing it again.”

  Regina made Mary promise that she’d come to tea again the following week, and gave Patty the charge of making sure it happened.

  “Now, wasn’t that nice?” Patty asked as they walked back toward the dress shop.

  “You know, it really was. I should have taken them up on their invitation a long time ago.”

  Patty shook her head. “Someday, you’ll learn to listen to me the first dozen times I tell you something. Women need the companionship of women—it’s been that way since the dawn of time.”

  “But I’ve had you. Who needs other friends when I already have the perfect one right here?”

  “You do make a good point, but I might not always be here. You need other friends too.”

  Mary raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to go somewhere, Patty?”

  “No. I’m just speaking in general terms.”

  Mary still felt that Patty wasn’t telling her everything, but she wouldn’t push the issue. Patty would talk when she was ready, and she wouldn’t do it a moment sooner.

  They picked up the dress from the shop. Shortly after they arrived back at the house, their order from the mercantile was delivered, and Patty set to work hanging up the new clothes. “This one will need to be taken in a bit,” she said, holding up a pretty blue dress with pink sprigged flowers. “That’s the trouble with ready made—they’re never quite perfect. They do save time, though.”

  “Hmmm,” Mary said in agreement, only half listening. She’d draped her gown across her bed and was studying it. The workmanship was impeccable, and she couldn’t stop marveling over the embroidered flowers along the hem. Patty came up beside her and grinned.

  “You’ll look like a queen,” she said. “But you’ll be a hungry queen if we don’t get some dinner on.”

  “Dinner? Oh, yes. That’s a good idea.” Mary left the dress behind with reluctance and followed Patty downstairs. It would be another two hours until it was time to get ready for the dance—she just hoped she could wait that long.

  ***

  “I’ve got a man watching the train station, and Arthur Jameson has been asked to contact us immediately if Wells sends a telegram,” Ranse said, motioning to the newspaper laid out on his desk.

  Christopher studied the ad. It had come out perfectly, exactly what he and Wendell had discussed.

  Seeking Thomas Wells formerly of Creede to conclude business transaction. Buyer interested in property at good profit margin. Contact W.T. to confirm approval of sale by Aug. 30th or forfeit percentage.

  That would certainly get Wells’ attention.

  “Mr. Carroll contacted the larger newspapers in the area and asked them to run it as well,” Christopher said, leaning back in his chair. “If Wells is still around, he’ll see this.”

  “Or not,” Ranse replied.

  Christopher shook his head. “Why are you so determined to think negatively about this? It’s our one remaining shot, our final idea. Beyond this, all that’s left is going from house to house, looking in closets and under beds to see where Wells is hiding.”

  “So you do have another idea after this one,” Ranse said with a smirk, but then grew serious again. “I don’t mean to be the wet blanket in this plan. I just hesitate to get my hopes up because we’ve been down this road so many times.”

  “I understand. Believe me, I do.” Christopher exhaled. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to something, Ranse, and I’d like to run it past you, if you have a minute.”

  “Of course.”

  Christopher glanced toward the window, trying to organize his thoughts into words. “I’m going to retire,” he said at length. “This will be my last case—and if we fail, I won’t be pursuing the next clues, whatever those might be.”

  Ranse looked stunned. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he replied. “You’ve been with the Mounties for so long, I assumed you’d always wear the red.”

  “I have been with them for a long time—I’ve devoted my life to them. But I’m getting older, and I’m worn out. I’m not as eager and fresh as I once was, and I’m afraid that I’m missing important pieces of information because of that fatigue. It’s time for me to hand the case to someone else.”

  Ranse nodded. “I understand, but you’ll be missed—you’ve been the man a lot of us have looked up to over the years.”

  “I appreciate that, Ranse. And with good men like you still steering the ship, I know we’re in good hands.” Christopher chuckled. “Now I just need to convince you to move to Canada so you can take my place with the Mounties.”

  “No, I think I’m best off on this side of the border. Those gentle Canadians wouldn’t know what to do with a rough-and-tumble American like me.”

  Christopher came to his feet. “I’m not expecting Wells to react this quickly, considering that the ad only appeared today, but let me know if anything happens. I’ll be at the Tivoli Ballroom all evening.”

  Ranse grinned. “Taking some well-deserved time off?”

  “Yes. And there’s a certain lady who needs some time off as well.”

  Chapter Nine

  When Marigold descended the staircase, one hand clutching the rail and the other hand holding her skirts out of the way, Christopher almost couldn’t breathe. When was the last time he’d been so utterly enchanted? He couldn’t remember—perhaps never. He’d been besotted with the fiancée of his youth, and she had indeed been a beauty, but Marigold possessed the loveliness bestowed by the passing of years and the development of wisdom.

  “You’ve rendered me speechless,” he said when she reached the bottom step. />
  She smiled, and his heart made a wild leap. None of his questions were questions anymore—he knew exactly what he should do, and now it was only a matter of putting everything into place.

  He held out the tiny bouquet of flowers he’d acquired on his way home.

  “Marigolds,” she said with another smile.

  “I thought you might like them.”

  “I do. Thank you, Christopher. The night hasn’t even begun, but I already feel as though I’ve had a wonderful time.”

  “Well, you just keep on feeling that way.” Patty appeared at Marigold’s elbow and took the flowers. “I’ll just set these in some water.”

  Christopher had rented a buggy from the livery stable, and he helped Marigold take her seat before he walked around and climbed into his. “It’s been a while since I’ve attended an event like this,” he said as he flicked the lines. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m awkward and say all the wrong things.”

  Marigold smiled. “I was just about to tell you the same. I suppose we’ll be awkward together.”

  Whatever his apprehensions might have been, Christopher didn’t feel awkward in the slightest when he took Marigold in his arms and twirled her around the dance floor. Instead, he felt transformed, as though they were both no longer themselves, but living in a dream world where criminals didn’t exist and everyone was surrounded by music and laughter and gaiety. The orchestra was especially fine, and he closed his eyes and immersed himself in what it felt like to hold this woman near him.

  When the music came to an end, he let her go reluctantly, and they walked over to enjoy some refreshments together.

  “As hard as you tried to keep the tongues from wagging on Sunday, they’re certainly wagging now,” Marigold said with amusement. “I don’t think anyone’s taken their eyes off us since we arrived. They’re too curious.”

  “Funny—I haven’t noticed any of the other guests at this party. I’ve only noticed you.”

  When she blushed, the pink of her cheeks was accentuated by the red tones in her dress, making the effect even more lovely. “You’d better be careful, Mr. Hoffman, or you’ll make me vain.”

  “Would that be such a bad thing? I daresay, it would be the first time in your life that you’ve ever felt that way, but you’ve had reason to for years.”

  She took a sip of punch, then set her cup back in its saucer. “There you go again, trying to turn my head.”

  “Is it working?”

  “I think it’s working a little too well.”

  “Too well? Is there such a thing?”

  “Not on a night like this.” She smiled brightly. “Another dance, good sir?”

  “Of course.”

  They joined the twirling of skirts out on the floor. Marigold’s feet were just as light, but her heart seemed heavy, and Christopher was becoming concerned. What had happened to change her countenance from joy to sorrow?

  Whatever it was, he knew the time was approaching when he would need to tell her the truth about who he was and what he was doing in Creede. He couldn’t push forward with his plans until that conversation had taken place, and yet he dreaded it. She had placed so much trust in him, and he wasn’t sure how she would accept the knowledge that he had lied to her, even if it was for a very good reason.

  At the conclusion of that dance, he led her over to a small alcove and fetched her some cake, but he wasn’t hungry. He needed to speak with her, but he couldn’t—not in such a public place.

  “You asked me a question a few minutes ago,” she said, putting her own half-eaten cake to the side. “You asked if it was possible for my head to be turned too much. Yes, it can, and I’m afraid it will be. Christopher, what are we doing? We’re not young anymore—we can’t afford to spend our time entertaining weekend dalliances. Why are we here together? What does this mean?” She took a deep breath and rushed on. “I realize I’m being too forward by asking—I should be more patient and see how things develop between us, but you won’t be here much longer, and I don’t want to get entangled . . .”

  Christopher reached out and took her hand. “You’re not being too forward,” he said gently. “You have every right to ask, and every right to be curious.” He paused. “The fact of the matter is, I need to speak with you about something, and until I do, I can’t promise you anything.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and now it was his turn to rush. “No, no, it’s nothing bad—I’m not married and I don’t have a backyard full of skeletons, but I can’t tell you what it is until we’re someplace more private. I will tell you one thing, though.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Did he dare say the words? What if he was the forward one now? “I love you, Marigold, and I mean that truly.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yes, I certainly do. You’ve caught me completely off guard—imagine my surprise to walk up the steps of a boarding house and see one of God’s most perfect creations standing there. I thought I was renting a room, not losing my heart, but here we are.” He gave her hand a small squeeze, then reluctantly let it go.

  She sat there quietly, not responding, and he wondered if he’d ruined their chances by blurting out his feelings the way he had. “I’m scared of what you need to tell me,” she said at last. “I don’t want to be shocked or scared or disappointed. I just want this lovely fantasy to continue forever.” She motioned out toward the party. “This night truly couldn’t be any more magical, and I’m worried that everything will be shattered.”

  “Why don’t we go for a drive and talk, and then come back?” Christopher suggested. “Let’s clear the air so we can enjoy the rest of our evening. If my news is too troubling for you, I’ll take you home instead.”

  “Yes, please,” she replied. “I’d appreciate that.”

  They gathered their things and made their way to the entrance, where Christopher told the doorman they’d likely return in a little while. The cooler evening air was refreshing, and he pulled in a deep breath as they walked toward the buggy.

  Once they had driven down the road about a mile and were well and truly out of anyone’s earshot, Christopher slowed the buggy to barely a crawl and turned to Marigold. “Here,” he said, handing her the buggy whip.

  She took it, but looked confused. “Why are you giving this to me?”

  “It occurs to me that I’ve just brought a woman out onto a dark road all by ourselves without a chaperone. I have put my fate in your hands. If you feel the slightest bit insecure about our situation, you can tell the horse to move on, or you can use the whip on me if I become impertinent.”

  She smirked. “You’re inviting me to use this whip on you?”

  “Only if it’s necessary.”

  “Do you think it will be necessary?”

  “I don’t have any nefarious plans, but this is for your peace of mind.”

  “What if I wasn’t worried?”

  “Well, now you have something to back that up.”

  She shook her head, still smirking. “I’ll hold it, but I do trust you.”

  “Even though you don’t know my secret?”

  “You’re not a danger to me, Christopher. I trust you.”

  He was touched by her faith in him. He didn’t know if he’d done anything to deserve it, or if she just offered it willingly—it was probably the latter. There was nothing he could ever do that would be worthy of this woman.

  “That means a great deal to me,” he said after swallowing. He hadn’t expected to feel so emotional.

  “So, now that I’m properly armed, tell me what we’re doing out here in the dark with only our carriage lights for our guides,” she said.

  “When I arrived in town, I told you I was here to purchase some land, and that I would be meeting with Wendell Thurgood to arrange that purchase,” he said. “That was a lie.”

  “It was?”

  “Yes. I’m actually an undercover investigator with the North West Mounted Police, investigating the case of Thomas Wells. He’s been moving fro
m town to town carrying out real estate scams, and I’ve been tasked with bringing him in.”

  “You’re an investigator? On a case?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I knew Thomas Wells. He seemed like a very pleasant sort of man—well, until he suddenly wasn’t anymore. You say he’s been involved with real estate? Did he do anything to hurt the Thurgoods?”

  “He did get them wrapped up in somewhat of a pickle, but part of why I’m here is to help unwrap them. They’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, good. I like them so much—I’m glad you’re helping them.”

  Her voice sounded a little distant, and he wondered what she was thinking. “Are you all right, Marigold?”

  “Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine. I’m just a little surprised.” She paused again. “This means you’ll be leaving Creede once your case is wrapped up. You’ll have other responsibilities, other cases. This is why I didn’t want to get too involved, Christopher. Deep down, I knew this was too good to be true—I knew it couldn’t last forever.”

  Getting hit with the whip was a risk Christopher was willing to take. He reached out and stroked the side of her cheek. It was every bit as soft as he’d imagined it would be. “Not necessarily, Marigold. I brought you out here for two reasons—first, to tell you the truth of who I am, and secondly, to see what you’d think if I retired and made my home here in Creede.”

  “What? You’d . . . you’d retire and move here?” She looked utterly shocked.

  “Yes, I would. I’ve been thinking about retiring for a while now, but until I came here, I didn’t have anything else to live for beside work. I’d be a lonely old man rattling around a quiet house with maybe a cat or two, and the idea of that never appealed to me. But what if I retired and became a newlywed at the same time? Wouldn’t that be a much better way to spend the rest of my life?”

  “A newlywed?”

  “That’s right.” He smiled. She was adorable when she was confounded. “Marigold, you’re not the kind of woman I could leave behind. You’re the kind of woman I would marry and create a life with. If I were planning to stay with the Mounties, I’d invite you to move to Canada with me, but I do feel my time there is done, and I have nothing to tie me to Calgary. I would gladly come here and become part of your community and live in these beautiful mountains forever if you will give me the word and say that’s what you want too.”