“Well, he is. He’s being ridiculous. How dare he accuse you . . .” She put her hand over her mouth.
Gwen watched the stranger assess her even more closely. “So I take it you are the woman I’m looking for,” he said, his voice void of emotion.
Gwen nodded. “I am Gwendolyn Gallatin, and yes, I was married to Harvey Bishop. But my sister is right. Harvey told us he had no living family.”
“Well, he lied,” the man replied. “Not surprising, but that’s beside the point. We have some business to deal with. Just the two of us.”
“You’ll deal with all of us or none of us,” Lacy stated firmly. She stepped between Gwen and the stranger, and Beth did likewise.
“That’s right,” Beth said. “We would hardly allow our sister to be subjected to such a rude and vulgar man by herself. Why, you might take some kind of liberty with her, for all we know.”
The man smiled at this, and Gwen felt her knees go weak at the way his features took on an amused—almost mischievous—look.
“Is there a problem, girls?” Joe interjected. “You look like a pack of mama bears defendin’ their cub. What’s got you hidin’ behind your sisters, Miss Gwen?”
“This man, that’s what,” Lacy said. “He’s causing a conflagration of emotions inside of me.”
Joe frowned and rubbed his chin. “That don’t sound good, Miss Lacy.”
“This man claims to be the brother of my sister’s deceased husband,” Beth added. “He’s mean-tempered and . . . well . . . he’s just plain mean.”
“Stranger, I didn’t reckon you to be a problem for these ladies, or I’d never have brought you to them.”
“I don’t intend to be a problem for them,” the man replied. “On my mother’s behalf, I’ve come here on business.”
“Harvey’s mother is still alive?” Gwen questioned. She felt a growing confusion. Harvey had told her his mother was dead. He had regaled her with sweet stories of his mother’s kindness and the joy he’d known before she’d passed away. She bit her lip and forced her eyes to meet those of the stranger.
“Our mother is very much alive, I assure you.” This time the man’s tone had softened. He seemed to understand that Gwen was just as confused as he was.
“Can we discuss this further over some grub, ladies? I have a schedule to keep, and I’m fallin’ behind.” Joe raised his eyebrows in a hopeful gesture.
“Come on in,” Gwen said, moving to the door. “We’ll have food on the table in two minutes. Beth, Lacy—come help me. Joe, show our guest to the table.”
“Sure thing, Miss Gwen.”
The girls headed into the kitchen while Joe and the stranger could be heard talking in the dining room.
“What in the world do you suppose he’s after?” Lacy asked in a whisper. The dining room and kitchen were open to each other in one great room, and Gwen knew Lacy didn’t intend to be overheard.
“I have no idea. I’m just as stunned as you two,” Gwen said as she sliced pieces of ham for sandwiches. “I suppose, however, we shall soon find out. Mr. Bishop hardly seems the type to be refused. Beth, please stir the stew and make sure it’s warm enough.” Beth nodded and immediately went to work.
“You aren’t going to let him stay here, are you?” Lacy asked in disbelief.
“I suppose we really haven’t a choice. He’s come all this way,” Gwen said. She positioned the ham on a plate and then began to slice cheese from a large wedge.
“But he obviously hates us—especially you,” Beth said, testing the stew. “He would make a perfect villain in one of my books. He’s got beady eyes.”
“I thought you said he was dashing, with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen,” Gwen said, amusement in her tone. She drew a deep breath. “His eyes are quite beautiful and very blue.” She cut two more pieces of ham, then put aside the knife. “You mustn’t be too hard on him. He obviously loved Harvey a great deal, so we have that in common. We simply have to convince him that I am neither a gold digger nor a killer.” She smiled at her sisters but inwardly felt as if the impossibility of her statement was a weight around her neck. How did one go about convincing a man unknown to them that he could trust them and believe their every word?
Beth and Lacy delivered the food to the table while Gwen brought the coffeepot. She poured Joe a cup and watched him take a large gulp before setting the mug back down.
“Good as usual, Miss Gwen.”
“Thanks, Joe.” She topped off his cup, then moved to the other man. “Mr. Bishop, would you care for coffee?”
He looked at the table rather than meet her gaze. “Coffee is fine.”
Gwen poured him a cup, then motioned for Beth to bring the cream and sugar. It was a routine they were all quite familiar with. Meanwhile, Joe began to pile his plate with food.
“Ain’t no one got better grub than you girls.”
“I didn’t realize you’d be coming through, Joe. I can fix something else if this isn’t enough. I do have pie, as well.”
“No need to fix anything else, Miss Gwen. There ain’t time. I’ve gotta push on. Just pack me up a couple of pieces of that pie, and I’ll eat them on the road.” He looked at the other man and back to the girls. “I just wanna know one thing.”
Gwen looked at the older man. “And what would that be?”
“You lettin’ this man stay, or do I take him with me?”
Gwen looked at Harvey’s brother as the man raised his eyes to hers. Something told Gwen that this man wouldn’t be forced to go with anyone. He wasn’t a city dandy to be pushed around. She could see in his eyes that he was a man of decision and determination.
“He can stay, Joe. He has business here, just as he’s said. Maybe stop back by for him on your way through.”
“What kind of business, if I might ask?” Rafe questioned, standing just inside the dining room.
Gwen frowned. “What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”
“I was hoping to buy a pie or two. You got any for sale?”
“I’ll have some this evening. Right now I’m down to my last one. Come back around five.”
Rafe nodded and looked at Bishop. “So what is it that brings you to town, stranger?”
“I hardly see that as any concern to you.”
“Well, sure it is. You’re a customer, and customers are always my business,” Rafe said with a big grin. “My saloon is just next door. If you’re staying here, you’ll want to know that, because these little ladies don’t serve spirits. They’re temptress women.”
“Although I’m sure these women can be tempting, do you actually mean temperance women?” Bishop asked.
Beth was snorting a giggle under her breath. Rafe was not happy to be corrected but held his temper. “What I mean is they don’t agree with alcohol of any kind.”
“That suits me quite well, for I myself am a temperance man,” Bishop replied. He looked at Joe and added, “I have my horse. You needn’t worry about coming back for me, now that I am familiar with the trail to Salt Lake.” His expression seemed to darken as he muttered, “Hoc volo, sic iubeo; sit pro ratione voluntas.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Lacy questioned.
“It’s been my experience that men who have to hide behind foreign words do so because they have nothing of import to say,” Beth said, sticking her nose in the air as if greatly offended.
The man smiled. “It’s Latin and means, ‘This is what I want, such are my orders: my desire is reason enough.’ ” He fixed his gaze on Gwen. “In other words, I’ll leave when I have what I came for.”
To Gwen, his statement sounded more like a threat than mere comment. What have you come for? She couldn’t imagine that she could offer him anything that would satisfy or justify a trip of this great length. Still, something deep within told her that everything in her life was about to change yet again. The curse was working its tiresome strategies against her. There was nothing to do but endure and hope for a painless conclusion. Unfortunately, Mr. Bish
op didn’t look like the painless type.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I hate the fact that Rafe has brought in prostitutes,” Beth said, stretching to look out the kitchen window. She knew even though there was still plenty of light, it wouldn’t be long before the cowboys started whooping it up at the saloon. Several had already arrived and were no doubt starting their night of entertainment.
“The alcohol was bad enough, but now this,” Gwen replied as she pulled two perfectly roasted chickens from the oven. “I wonder if Mr. Bishop likes chicken. I never thought to ask.”
“I think you’ve done more than enough by allowing him to rent a room,” Lacy interjected as she stomped across the kitchen on her way out the back. “I think you should have sent him elsewhere.”
“Look, I don’t want him here any more than you do,” Gwen replied. She put the chicken aside and checked the vegetables that were simmering on the stove. Beth watched her sister’s meticulous attention to detail as she mixed in just a pinch of this and that. “I figure,” Gwen continued, “it’s best to allow him to be here, state his business, and then see him on his way. Otherwise, he might think we have something to hide.”
Lacy frowned as she picked up two water buckets. Beth was quite certain that none of this set well with her younger sister. “Yes, but he doesn’t want to talk with all of us present, which makes me think he’s the one with something to hide. He’s remained in his room all afternoon. I’m certain he’ll seek you out this evening.”
Gwen put her spoon aside. “Then perhaps you and Beth should make yourselves scarce. I might as well talk to him and send him on his way.”
Beth frowned. “How can we even be sure he is Harvey’s brother? He looks nothing like him.”
“He acts nothing like him, either. Harvey was always so sweet,” Lacy added.
“Why should he lie about that?” Gwen asked. “It’s not like Harvey had any wealth or hit it rich in the mines. Perhaps Mr. Bishop thinks that he did come into a fortune, but we can easily show him otherwise. And if he doesn’t believe us, we can point him to Virginia City and Norris. They can certainly vouch for the fact that Pa and Harvey never made much more in gold than saw us through from day to day. If Pa hadn’t sold his claim, we wouldn’t have even had the money to get started here. It’s not like we’re living a life of ease.”
“I doubt that means anything to Mr. Bishop. He’s obviously after something here. We just need to find out what that might be,” Beth reasoned. She checked the two dried apple pies and noted they were cool. “Should I take these over to Rafe?”
Gwen shook her head. “Let him come for them. I’ve seen several rough-looking characters make their way over there already. No sense putting ourselves in danger. If he happens to forget, we can always get Simon or Nick to take them.”
Beth nodded and went back to tending her biscuit dough. “I’ll get these in the oven if the chicken is done.”
“It is. Go right ahead. Lacy, please get the water, then see that the table is set. Don’t forget that Jerry and Patience Shepard are joining us for supper.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean Deputy Shepard is coming, as well,” Lacy said with obvious contempt in her tone.
“I don’t know if he is or not, but you might as well set an extra place just in case he does.”
Muttering, Lacy took herself out the back door while Beth straightened after placing the biscuits in the oven. She looked at her older sister and couldn’t help but feel a sense of protection. Gwen had seen them through so many bad situations and had tried her best to be a mother to Beth and Lacy, even though she wasn’t that much older than either of her siblings. Beth loved her for trying, though, and would have given her life to protect Gwen.
It seemed strange that it was just the three of them now. Pa had always been there for them, even if his wild dreams had taken them all over the country. Gwen was always encouraging Beth, who really only wanted to settle down in one place and stop all the travel.
Someday, we’ll stop moving, Gwen had once assured Beth. One day, we’ll have a real home. And while the Gallatin House wasn’t exactly a real home, it was the closest Beth had known since her mother died, and she didn’t want to leave.
“Maybe Mr. Bishop thinks Harvey owned part of this establishment,” Gwen said rather absentmindedly. She was now endeavoring to make coffee and had just put in twice as much as needed when Beth managed to stop her.
“Why don’t you let me see to this,” she more stated than questioned. “I know Pa said not to make the coffee too weak, but this strength would even cause Pa to reconsider his declaration.”
Gwen only then seemed to notice what she’d done. “Oh no! I’m sorry. It’s just . . . well . . . that man has me so flustered.”
“I know,” Beth replied sympathetically. “Do you have any idea what he might be looking for?”
“None at all. You know how it was when Harvey came to us. He had that battered-up suitcase with his only change of clothes and little else. If Mr. Bishop thinks he had something of value, he’s much mistaken.”
“Could he maybe just need information?”
Gwen met Beth’s eyes. “There’s precious little of that, as well. After all, if what Mr. Bishop is telling us is true, then Harvey fabricated a great deal. Any information I could offer would be tainted by that.”
A knock sounded on the front door and was soon followed by a woman’s voice calling out in greeting.
“It’s Mrs. Shepard,” Beth declared. “You go ahead. I’ll take care of everything here. Lacy will be back in just a shake, and we’ll finish off the table.”
As Gwen exited the room, Lacy came through carrying heavy buckets of steaming water. “I’m going to have Nick look at those cart wheels. They’re getting looser all the time. I think I spilled more water than I managed to get back with.”
“Just pour it in the sink. The hot water will soak the pans nicely while we have our supper.” Beth placed the two roasted chickens on platters, then poured the drippings into a large cast-iron skillet and began to make gravy.
“I was thinking of having a soak out there later,” Lacy said as she managed the buckets. “Want to join me?”
“I don’t think it’d be a good time to do it. You know there are a lot of rowdies over at Rafe’s.”
“We can lock the gate. Pa built a high enough fence that no one is going to get much of a look. And if they do, we have our swimming clothes.”
“I know, but it’s still a risk. It’s always harder to keep the hot springs private when the saloon is busy. Let’s wait for a nice evening when there aren’t so many strangers around. For now, we really need the table set. The Shepards just got here a few minutes ago.”
“Oh goodness, I completely forgot about the table.” Lacy finished pouring the water in the sink before hurrying to the cupboard for the dishes.
“Look what Patience has brought us,” Gwen said as she entered the kitchen with the woman close on her heels.
“Butter and more cream!” Beth declared as she spied the items in her sister’s arms.
Patience, an attractive woman in her mid-forties, smiled. “I knew you could use it. I’d rather sell it to you than take it elsewhere. At least here I know it will be used for proper meals. I’d hate to tell you what Dave said he caught them doing with it at the saloon.”
Beth’s eyes widened as thoughts of her dime novels came to mind. Had she ever read about butter and cream being illicitly used?
“No, I think it best we not know,” Gwen commented as she put the items away. “We need more ice,” she said as she closed the icebox door. “I miss the times when we can just store it outside.”
“Yes, but then you’d have to cut more wood and worry about keeping the house warm enough for guests,” Patience reminded.
Beth thought Patience Shepard one of the few women she’d most like to pattern herself after. It was said that the mother of three had come from a wealthy eastern family who all but shunned her when she married
beneath her social standing. Over the years, however, her parents had apparently seen fit to forgive her enough to take in Patience’s two youngest children—daughters who longed for civilization and finishing school. It had been hard for Mrs. Shepard to lose both her daughters at once, but they had made such a fuss, there seemed no other option. Even their father decided it would be in everyone’s best interest. The girls left for finishing school the previous fall and only recently sent a letter home indicating their intention to remain with their grandparents.
Beth poured the bubbling gravy into a gravy boat. “Have you heard anything from the girls?” She looked up to catch Patience’s frown and wished she’d refrained from bringing up the reminder of their absence.
“No. I expect a letter from my parents most anytime. They’ll tell me all the reasons why the girls should stay, and I’ll have little say in the matter. I suppose it’s their revenge for my leaving the way I did.”
Gwen put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “That’s nonsense. What parent would seek revenge on their child?”
Patience drew a deep breath. “Mine would. They were so bitter at my marrying Jerry and moving west. They didn’t approve when he was an accountant, but then when he turned rancher, that completely put us at odds. He might as well have announced that he was setting up a brothel.”
“He’s such a sweet man,” Beth said. “So gentle in spirit, and smart, too. He runs that ranch in better order than ten men with twice his experience.”
This made Patience smile. “Some days he makes enough mess for ten men. Between him, Dave, and the hands, I have more than enough to do, but I miss my girls.”
“Speaking of Dave,” Gwen said, glancing toward the dining room, “will he be joining us?”
“No. He told me he’d be busy.”
“Table’s set,” Lacy announced. “You want me to put some of the food out?”
“Yes,” Gwen replied. “Go ahead.”
Beth was already pulling the biscuits from the oven. “Don’t forget the mashed potatoes in the warming bin,” she called after Lacy.
A Promise to Believe In Page 4
