Silver Mist

by Raine Cantrell

  “Anne! We’re not goin’ to walk off as if you two are strangers.”

  “Don’t interfere,” she warned him, gazing at Dara as if she intended to do just that.

  Patting his wife’s hand, Jake then removed it from his arm. “Service won’t start for a few minutes, and Jesse is waving me over. Why don’t you two have a visit and settle what’s between you.”

  “Jake Vario, don’t you dare go off and leave me.”

  He adjusted the fit of his gunbelt, calling Dara’s attention to it, and her gaze met his with shock.

  “To service?” Dara questioned, knowing she didn’t need to explain more to Jake.

  “I’m not alone, Dara. Take a look around. But first, you and Anne need to remember you’re best friends. Talk to each other.”

  Anne glared after her husband, and Dara wasn’t sure what to say. Truth be told, she hadn’t given much thought to what would happen here today because of her decision not to marry Clay. Thoughts and feelings for Eden had consumed her, and suddenly she needed to talk to Anne, with whom she had shared so much.

  “Please, Anne, don’t let what happened with Clay come between us. Jake is right, we were—are—best friends. I’ve missed you.”

  “You hurt him terribly, Dara. Why did you do it?” she pleaded.

  “Clay and I never wanted the same things, Anne. He’s a fine man and will make someone else a good husband, but he refused to understand that I needed—no, wanted to share the work of building a home with him. Am I wrong,” Dara whispered in a strained voice, “to want what you and Jake have? Your marriage is … Jake loves you. He shares his thoughts and feelings, his past and plans with you.”

  “And I suppose that Eden McQuade does all those things? You’re a fool, Dara. You made my brother a laughingstock in Rainly by leaving him for that low-down woman killer!”

  “Anne!” Dara was so shocked that she swayed where she stood. Shaking her head, she couldn’t believe Anne had said that or that she was standing there, ready to do battle by the light in her blue eyes, if Dara dared to deny it.

  Before Dara could think what to say, Anne grabbed her arm, pulling her farther from the crowd so no one could overhear them. “I’m telling you this to warn you because we are friends, Dara. How much do you know about him? Did he tell you where he came from? Or why he had to leave? Pay me some mind, Dara, his trouble with Lucio Suarez goes way back. It didn’t start here over phosphate mining.”

  “I don’t believe you. I won’t stand here and listen to you malign a man who has been kindness itself to me and my family!”

  “You’d better or you’ll find yourself like a pea in a hot skillet. Lucio came to town the same day I returned from Ocala—”

  “I know that, Anne.”

  “Did you know he asked questions about Eden Mc­Quade? Only he didn’t call him that. He said his name was Silver.”

  “It’s just a name people tagged on him because he had a knack of finding rich silver veins.”

  “Is that what he told you?” Anne was shaking, but pushed away Dara’s hand. “You think Eden McQuade is perfect, don’t you? And I suppose you fooled yourself into thinking he’s in love with you, too! Well, ask him, Dara. Ask him if he was mixed up in a woman’s killing in Hamilton, Nevada.”

  With a dawning awareness, Anne studied Dara’s stricken eyes. “I know you think I said all this to hurt you, but I didn’t, Dara. And if you won’t believe me, ask Jake. They were friends long before either of them came here.”

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.

  “No, I wish I were, but I’m not. Jake admitted that he knew Eden when…” Anne bit her lip, hesitant to reveal more. “We fight a lot,” she blurted out, needing to tell someone. Angry as she was with Dara for what she had done to her brother, she had carried her own fears alone too long. At Dara’s coaxing, she walked a ways with her, feeling the need to talk. “Jake leaves me alone. Every night, right after supper, he dons his gun and supposedly takes a last walk through town. He doesn’t come home until late.”

  Slipping a comforting arm around her friend’s waist, Dara struggled to reassure her. “Jake loves you and he takes his job seriously. I remember his telling me that Rainly wasn’t going to be a lawless town. With all that’s happened in the last few weeks, his job must take more time. He should have listened to Early and put on another officer to help him.”

  “It’s not that. Jake goes over to see that Mallory woman!”

  “Are you listening to some fool’s gossip? Jake would never—”

  “You don’t understand! I’ve been tired all the time, and I’m sick every morning. I can’t cook what he likes, or I get sick at night. I haven’t … we can’t … well, you being single and all, I can’t say.”

  Impatience and anger warred in Dara’s eyes. They stopped off to the side of the church, away from everyone.

  “You can’t say?” she repeated. “You accuse a man of killing a woman, tell me your husband is involved with that hussy, and you can’t say!”

  “We haven’t made love in weeks!”

  “Anne!” Dara blushed clear up to the roots of her hair. It was the pained expression on her friend’s face that made Dara hug her close, murmuring soothing sounds, for she didn’t know what to say. “Have you thought of asking Jake for the truth?”

  “I can’t. He’s changed, Dara. I don’t know how to explain it to you, but there’s a hardness he’s walled himself behind.” Freeing herself from Dara’s hold, Anne stepped back. “Folks are going inside for service. We’d better join them. But Dara, don’t forget what I said about Eden McQuade.”

  Dara let her go, but stood a few moments by herself. She couldn’t tell Anne that she would never believe such a lie about Eden. There was so much gentleness in him. And even if he did threaten every moral fiber of her being with his sensual assaults, she knew he would never force or hurt her. It was up to a woman to govern a man’s desire, and while she knew she had allowed him liberties beyond what was proper, there wasn’t a time when he hadn’t, at her least show of reluctance, stopped. No, she would not believe Eden capable of murdering a woman. Anne was wrong to think her a fool. Every man had the capacity for violence—she had seen enough changes in Rainly to understand that—but Eden could no more kill a woman than she could … could march into the Gilded Lily!

  Whoever spread such a rumor lied to Anne. With a cynical twist of mind that she didn’t even realize she had, Dara wondered if Anne told her this out of revenge for Clay.

  She slipped into church, standing behind those milling in the back, trying to peer over their shoulders to find a single seat. The light touch of a fingertip toying with the soft hairs at her nape made her turn around.

  The blistering heat of Eden’s sensual smile met her gaze. “You look surprised to see me here, darlin’.”

  “I hoped you would be.”

  “Turn around, love, or folks’ll stare.” Rubbing her sensitive neck, he whispered, “You’ll have to tell me which box lunch is yours, ’cause no one’s having the pleasure of sharing you but me.”

  His possessive tone was matched by his hand curving around her waist. Dara lifted startled eyes, ready to warn him against such a bold move, but he was looking over her head. Following his gaze, she tensed. Clay and her brother Pierce were staring directly at them. There was a promise of fury in Clay’s look, and Dara instinctively leaned back against Eden, not out of fear for herself but to protect him. Clay’s threats spun out from her memory … You dare go anywhere McQuade is, talk to him, smile at him, or so much as glance his way, and I’ll kill him.”

  Dara wanted to run. If Anne told Clay what she believed about Eden, Clay would use it against him. She tried to reassure herself that no one would believe a preacher’s son could commit such an act, but she didn’t doubt that Clay would.

  “Easy, darlin’, or you’ll have me out the back door. I’m just as eager as you to be alone, but you’ve been trying to get
me here since the first day I met you. While I’ve no taste for repenting old pleasures, I’d solicit sin for you.”

  Dara believed his outrageous statement. But she didn’t know that Eden would dare to do just as he pleased without regard for the consequences until his hand at the small of her back gently urged her forward down the aisle till they stopped alongside Miss Loretta’s pew. Then, with that heart-stopping smile, Eden guided Dara into the empty place next to her.

  “Yore a bold one, McQuade,” Miss Loretta whispered.

  “Why, thank you, ma’am. Let’s pray the good Lord spread that enlightenment to others of this here fine congregation.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Now, Pierce, Edward Junior jus’ bid two dollars on this here fine wooden box. You gonna let him have it?”

  Caroline Halput blushed becomingly at Pierce’s side. Beneath the concealing folds of her blue gown, she gripped his hand tightly.

  “Two fifty,” he called out, glaring at the lanky youth who thought his father’s bank could buy him anything. For a moment he thought Edward Junior was going to up the price, but Caroline smiled up at him when the reverend said, “Sold.”

  The auction was almost over, and Dara waited tensely at Eden’s side. Clay had not bid on anyone’s basket. She prayed he wouldn’t think to humiliate both of them by bidding against Eden. She could feel the eyes of the congregation upon them. Few couples had moved off to find shady spots to enjoy the fruits of their purchases and indulge in the ritual innocent courting under parents’ watchful eyes.

  Pierce, having claimed Caroline’s box, returned to his place by Clay’s side, his features revealing anger at whatever Caroline said. But beyond offering Dara a sympathetic smile, Caroline remained with Pierce. Dara keenly felt her brother’s rejection when he failed to return her greeting.

  Harmon Ansel, the soft-spoken teacher, entered into a lively round of bidding with Harley Clare over Lara Saunders’s basket.

  “Jest watch that girl,” Miss Loretta ordered at Dara’s side, the tilt of her wide hat brim indicating Lara. “She’s as subtle as a train wreck, twitchin’ her tail like a handful of worms in a bed of hot ashes. Don’t pay her ma no min’ no how. All shy smiles for pore Harmon, an’ her hand’s a-clutchin’ Harley’s till he’s grinnin’ like a Yankee lawyah.”

  “Charity, Miss Loretta,” Eden chided.

  “Ah’ll give you charity enough to make a preachah lay his Bible down. Ah’m standin’ heah, Eden McQuade, lendin’ you the benefit of mah social standin’.”

  “Now, Miz Loretta,” Luther cautioned, “don’t be getting all het up. Eden here is right ’preciative.”

  “ ’Preceiative, huh? More’n likely this heah wicked smilin’ scoundrel is a-figurin’ on how he’s gettin’ rid of us aftah he buys Dara’s box lunch.”

  “Miss Loretta, you wound me layin’ such a calculated intent at my feet.”

  “Is that a fact? Well, boy, bettah I do than havin’ the tempahs waxin’ hot spill ovah.”

  Dara’s smile at their silly exchange faded with Miss Loretta’s reminder that Clay was still standing there, his eyes filled with warning. She refused to be drawn into a silent battle with him and kept her gaze on the long table where Reverend Speck stood, handing a grinning Harley change from his ten-dollar gold piece. Whispers and giggles followed Harley and Lara, more than one young man’s eyes filled with envy that Harley wouldn’t be eating a cold lunch under anyone’s watchful eye.

  Waiting with bated breath, Dara saw the reverend touch her basket and then lift one that she knew belonged to Roselee Kinnel. There wasn’t a sign of Matt, and she offered the young woman a consoling smile when Julian Tucker opened the bidding with one dollar. No one was more shocked than Roselee when a thick Irish brogue from in back of the crowd upped the bid to three dollars.

  Lonn Rogan elbowed his way to Roselee’s side. No one had expected the big Irishman to join them. So Luther said as they all turned to watch him. Dara’s gaze slipped beyond and noticed a cloud of dust south on Walnut Road leading to the church.

  “Yore brothah’s a fool, Dara. Lettin’ that sweet gal git her hopes high an’ disappointin’ her. ’Pears to me Flynn is right approvin’ of it, too.”

  And he was, slapping the big redheaded man on the back when he outbid Julian by five dollars for his daughter’s basket.

  Dara didn’t realize that she was gripping Eden’s arm until he leaned down to whisper, “I’ll make this short.”

  Reverend Speck trailed a bit of blue ribbon in his hand. “Gentlemen, this here is the last one. From the weight of it, I can guarantee you’ll be getting your money’s worth. So, who’s opening?”

  It seemed to Dara as if the crowd turned as one and stared. Eden’s voice rang clear, not overly loud, but boldly stating that he wouldn’t be outbid.

  “Twenty dollars.”

  Dara felt manipulated as she turned to Clay, others following, their looks speculative, their silence absolute.

  “And a right generous offer it is. Since we have no others, this is sold to Mr. McQuade.” Reverend Speck ignored the comments whispered to him by those closest. They had waited to see Clay make a stand, and he shooed them off as Eden stepped forward to claim Dara’s basket. He tucked two gold pieces into the reverend’s hands, disclaiming the man’s thanks.

  “I know you’ll use it for a worthy cause, Reverend. I wanted to thank you for not making Miss Owens a target of gossip by waiting for other bids.”

  “He wouldn’t have done it, you know. Clay’s a mighty prideful man.”

  “Pride is the never-failing vice of fools and makes a poor diet,” Eden stated, lifting Dara’s basket.

  When he returned to Dara’s side, taking her arm to lead her away from where most families sat beneath the shade trees, he looked around for a sign of where Clay was. He didn’t trust him not to cause Dara some embarrassment.

  “We could, if you like, darlin’, walk down the road a piece. You wouldn’t—”

  “Well! I nevah thought I’d see the day, Dara Owens. Your mothah would take to her bed findin’ you in the company of this heah man.”

  Dara paled under the baleful stare of Elvira Dinn. The blue plumes bobbed on her hat as she poked her folded parasol in Dara’s direction. Indignation flushed her face beet red.

  Eden started forward, but Dara stopped him. “Elvira, I—”

  “I can’t believe we God-fearing people are forced to attend church with men of his ilk! He owns a saloon, girl. Your fathah can’t know what you’re up to, disgardin’ a fine young man like Clay Wescott who offered marriage. We all know who’s the encouragin’ force behind your shockin’ act. Miss Loretta—”

  Dara’s face burned with shame, but her fury made her shake that Mrs. Dinn would make her denunciation so loudly that people stopped talking and were once again staring. Eden’s firm but warning grip on her arm both steadied and silenced the words trembling on her lips.

  “I believe, Mrs. Dinn,” he said with the full force of his most charming smile, “the Lord forgives all trespasses. Can you, standing upon his church’s ground, not find the same spirit?”

  “How dare you!” the matriarch drawled with a fulminating glance.

  “He dares, Elvira,” Miss Loretta interjected, drawing herself to an intimidating pose,” ’cause some of us know that you’ve got sour grapes to press since he’s taken his money ovah to Ocala.”

  “You jest wait until Thursday’s sewin’ circle, Loretta,” Elvira said in parting.

  “Eden, please,” Dara said as soon as the woman was out of hearing, “I want to leave.”

  “No, you don’t, miss. You stay right heah and face this down, or you’ll nevah have the chance. Now, Luther’s found us a right pretty spot ovah behind the church.” Linking her arm through Eden’s, Miss Loretta beamed her approval when he seconded her opinion.

  It wasn’t exactly what Eden had envisioned when he made the snap decision to come here. He knew what the
speculative glances meant, and he wanted no part of the commitment they implied between him and Dara. His consolation would have been time alone with her, but he could see no way to remove themselves without bringing Miss Loretta’s ire down upon them. Dara was shaken by what Elvira said, and when Matt rode up, Eden resigned himself to sharing her company.

  But Miss Loretta and Luther, having thoroughly enjoyed sampling Dara’s basket as well as their own, felt the two of them deserved some privacy, and with a last warning look that Miss Loretta was sure made clear to Eden that he wasn’t to move, they took themselves off to visit.

  Eden smiled, licking the last bit of honey fudge from his finger, while Matt tried to get his attention with jerky nods of his head that Eden should go off with him.

  Dara sat with her back against the tree, her eyes lowered to where she brushed crumbs from her lap, quiet as she had been for the past two hours.

  “For Pete’s sake, Matt,” Eden finally said in exasperation. “Say whatever it is that has you antsy.”

  “I can’t. Not here. I need to talk to you private like, Eden.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Stretched out on his back, his jacket folded for a pillow, Eden’s half-lidded eyes searched out the rising agitation in Matt’s face. He finally had a few minutes to speak to Dara, and Matt hadn’t the brains of a goose in a henhouse to take himself off somewhere else.

  Dara barely murmured in acknowledgment of Eden’s leaving to walk off with Matt a little ways. Elvira’s attack forced her to think about what she had done. She couldn’t counter it with saying that Eden, too, had offered marriage. Eden hadn’t offered anything beyond opening a door to sinful pleasures. Would her mother have been horrified by what she had done? It was another useless speculation, but it kept her from thinking about what Clay would do. She knew he wouldn’t have the day end with his public defeat at Eden’s hands going unanswered. Restless with the waiting, Dara came to her knees and began packing her basket. At the sound of Eden’s laughter, she glanced up once to where he stood with his arm companionably over Matt’s shoulders and saw Early beckon them to where he and several men sat passing a jug. Eden faced her, and she smiled, glad at least that most of the townsmen accepted him.