by Chula Stone
“They do tend to stick together, don’t they? I’m more of a mind to find one worth cutting out of the herd and getting on her own, but I’ll admit, there are worse ways of starting off a conversation. Can’t hurt to consider all my options before I make a choice. I think I’ll head back in the tent.” Shep ducked into the shady space while Slingo remained outside to talk to one of the parade officials.
The sides of the canvas tent were rolled up half way to provide some ventilation, but the day warranted no other measures against the heat. The worst of the summer was over and the pastures were lush now that the rains had begun. Soon it would be time to think of heading back to Bumchuck and his job. His mind wandered as he looked for an apple pie like the one Slingo was polishing off.
“You don’t want that one,” the lady behind the table told him confidentially, keeping her voice down so that only he could hear. “She’s married.”
Shep looked up. That wasn’t just any lady. It was Pinkie, and to Shep that meant trouble without a doubt. Just his luck that the lady who had waited on Slingo was nowhere in sight. He had half a mind to make some excuse and skedaddle, but then again, the advice she seemed to be offering might prove useful. “Which one do I want then?” Shep mumbled.
“You know who I’m going to recommend.” Pinkie shot a pointed look at a large selection of the most attractive and lavishly decorated cakes in the tent. “Though really, at this point, I’ve given up. If you won’t even give Treli a second look, that’s your loss.”
“Thank heaven for that!” Shep was indeed relieved. “I mean, just look at all those cakes! What is she trying to do? Make a spectacle of herself? That girl won’t be satisfied until she has every man in town ready to walk on hot coals for her!”
“Now, hold on a minute,” Pinkie retorted hotly. “I was the one who made her bring all those cakes and I told her they’d better be good advertising for the café or she’d be washing all the dishes by herself for a month. She did me proud, so don’t you go blaming her! I don’t mind her casting out some bait to catch a husband, but I have a business to run. The more men who get a taste for what my café can produce, the better I’ll like it. I’m hoping married ones will get the idea of coming by after work and taking home a treat for the missus. The single ones will drop by for a glimpse of Treli and I’m hoping they’ll spend a little of their coin at my establishment before going over to the saloon and blowing the rest.”
“So, will you at least tell me where the married ladies’ offerings are so I can avoid them?”
“Hmm, let me think. Here, I’ve got it.” Pinkie pulled a few plates from one table and switched around several from another before she stood back. Motioning with her hand, she indicated two and a half tables full of home-baked delights. “These are the ones from the married ladies. The rest are made by available girls.”
Shep felt a pang of regret as he forced his eye to skip over those confections made by Treli. They were the best looking of the lot on the table holding cakes and pies made by single girls but they were off limits, he told himself sternly. Whenever he had met the little firebrand that was his boss’s wife’s cousin, she had let him know in no uncertain terms that he would be wasting his time trying to court her so he had forced himself to look elsewhere. But there were plenty of other plates with tempting creations. Some were good old-fashioned cakes that Shep could tell would be filling if uninspiring. Others were delicate little cookies he knew he would inhale in one minute and then be left wanting. Would the ladies who baked them leave him wanting as well? Only one way to find out.
“There. That one.” He pointed to a pan of brownies with white sugar on top.
“Betty Farmer,” Pinkie noted as she handed Shep his selection and accepted his money. “She works as a by-the-day housekeeper all over town. You could do worse.” She looked him up and down with an appraising eye. “But she could do better. You be nice to her, or I’ll hear about it.”
“I’ll be nice,” Shep said defensively. “When am I not nice?”
“You told Slingo that you’d seen Drina in town the morning you brought the alpacas,” Pinkie replied. “That was definitely not nice.”
“If she got in trouble, it was her own fault, and yours too. Y’all had been told to stay on the ranch. But are you really going to keep bringing up that old news? She got over her mad long since. Why hasn’t Treli?” The words were out before Shep knew where they came from. He hastily tried to recover. “I mean, why haven’t you?”
Pinkie rolled her eyes but refused to answer. “Betty is working at the quilt booth. If you hurry you can talk to her before the crowds get any worse and she gets too busy to fool with you.”
Before he left, Shep felt compelled to turn around. “I had no idea Mrs. Drina would get in trouble, you know. I’m no snitch and I would never cause problems between a man and his wife. I have nothing but admiration for Mrs. Drina or you either.”
“And I know the chill between you and Treli isn’t your fault,” Pinkie admitted on a sigh. “So go flirt with Betty for a while and see what you think.”
Shep followed her advice with a lighter heart. He wanted to leave town, if indeed he found it was time to move on, with no ill feelings between him and the wives of his good friends the Sloan brothers. The quilt booth was several stalls down from the bake sale tent, but Shep found it, not by sight but by following sounds of an altercation. Not surprisingly, Treli was in the thick of things, making her voice heard and her presence felt as she always did.
“Betty made a lot of things for the bake sale, Mr. Branson. Just because you bought one of them doesn’t mean you have the right to take liberties.” Treli’s hiss didn’t carry far over the crowd, but Shep could distinguish the words as he approached.
The girl behind the booth turned out to be a cheerful looking brunette, with laughing eyes and a face that could make a man want to tuck a napkin under his chin and dig in. The only problem was, Shep couldn’t help comparing her to her excitable friend who always induced in him a desire to not only dig in, but feast for days. “Treli, don’t take on so. Mr. Branson didn’t mean anything by it. It’s tradition for the men to thank the ladies for their baked goods.”
Treli took another step out from the table. Shep noted she was putting herself squarely between Branson and Betty. “I didn’t hear any thanking going on. I heard insults.”
“He compared me to a pan of brownies. If you haven’t noticed, my hair is dark, like a brownie.” Betty held up a lock of her long hair.
Finally, Branson spoke up. Shep had been wondering when he would, knowing the blowhard lawyer couldn’t keep his mouth closed for long. “And a sweeter confection I can’t imagine. Betty doesn’t mind a bit of teasing. Her mother works for my uncle’s family, so we’re old acquaintances. We understand each other, don’t we, dear girl? It’s how things are done, Treli. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about it. Run along and let the grown-ups talk.”
Shep shouldn’t have felt offended by the words. He’d heard worse in his life in the Army. Much worse. It wasn’t the words themselves. It was the man’s condescending tone and insufferable way of looking at the women, as if they were both beneath his notice. Treli’s wit and spirit probably intimidated the man, or he wouldn’t have needed to risk insulting a relation of one of his firm’s best clients, but Betty was from a poor family and obviously fair game to him. Shep found himself pulling Treli out of the way and taking her place before he had formulated a clear plan of attack.
Treli seemed to have no such problem. “Who invited you to interfere?”
“Treli, would you like to introduce us to your friend?” Betty smiled with relief and held out a hand to Shep.
“He’s no friend of mine,” Treli barked. “No more than this specimen is.” Here she indicated Bailey Branson with a wave of her hand and a sneer Shep thought might unravel one of the knitted blankets on display with the quilts.
“Bart Shepard, Miss. Folks call me Shep. I’m working out on the Frogle
g for the Sloan brothers.”
“And you can have her after I’m done with her,” Branson murmured close to his ear. “I saw her first.” Out loud, he continued, “Treli will have her little jokes, but really, Betty, when are you finished in this booth? Or maybe Treli can take over for you. I’d like to show you a good time today.”
Shep felt like wiping his ears out after hearing the slimy way Branson addressed the girls. Betty apparently wasn’t as naïve as Shep had feared or as compliant as Branson assumed. Bristling visibly, the young lady answered stiffly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse that gracious invitation, Mr. Branson.”
Treli chimed in, her indignation radiating through every word. “Of course you refuse. Why are you bothering to be polite to this brute?”
Betty took a step back, drawing her friend with her behind the table. Shep could just barely make out her comments. “Because that man is a big shot in this town and if he gets crossways with me or my family, he could make life hard for us. Like he said, my mother works for his family. And I clean the offices of several prominent lawyers not to mention city officials. All those folks are thick as thieves with the Bransons. Not everybody has rich relatives like you do, Treli. Please! I appreciate your efforts, but I can’t afford to offend him like you can.”
Shep watched Treli’s face go pale and then flush to a bright pink, like a sunset painted on a cloudy sky. “I’m sorry. I never thought of that,” she murmured back quickly. She gave Branson a shaky, awkward smile.
“Well, start now,” Shep interrupted in a private aside. Aloud, he announced, “Sorry, Branson, but I don’t think I heard you right. You didn’t mean to insult anybody, did you? In fact, to show that there’s no ill will, why don’t we all go for a bowl of ice cream after Miss Betty here is done with her shift. If we all go together, there’ll be no problem. All nice and proper.”
Betty shot him a grateful glance. “Sure. That would be wonderful, Mr. Shepard. Treli, you can come, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can,” Treli agreed readily.
Shep’s heart gave an unaccountable leap as he saw the gratitude in her eyes as well. He tamped it down quickly. If Treli hadn’t shot her mouth off to Branson, they wouldn’t be in this fix in the first place. “That’s agreed then. When is your shift over?”
Scowling, Bailey cleared his throat. “A bowl of ice cream? That’s not anything like what I had in mind.”
“If you’re too busy, we’ll understand,” Shep assured him, trying not to sound too eager. “Our simple country pleasures must sound awfully boring to you.”
Treli, obviously not understanding what Shep was trying to do, bridled visibly. “If we’re so boring, maybe you’re the one who’s too busy to go for ice cream.”
Shep glared at Treli. “I want to go! It was my idea. I just thought that”
“Betty and I are very interesting company, no matter what we’re doing!” Treli interrupted.
Shep’s glare redoubled until he felt his glance might scorch the girl’s hair. “I never said you.”
“Treli, please!” Betty begged. “Mr. Shepard, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. This is all my fault.”
“Now, see what you’ve done?” Treli demanded hotly. “You’ve upset Betty.”
“I’m not upset!” Betty’s denial gave the lie to her words. “It’s just that with all this ruckus, nobody is going to even look at these quilts. Now, I’ll be done in an hour. Please come back then, whoever wants to go for ice cream.” She made shooing motions with her hands. Shep noticed Treli mirroring those motions, as if she meant to stay.
“That means you, too, Miss Treli.” He took her by the arm and headed away from the quilt booth.
“Would you let go of me?” Treli tried to jerk away from Shep but he held her fast.
Bailey strode up to her other side and offered his arm. “Can I help you, Miss Treli?”
Shep expected Treli to twist around and hiss at Bailey. Instead, she turned a sickly sweet smile on him. “Now that you mention it, I would like a little sophisticated company.”
Shep dropped her arm as if it was electrified. The little brat, changing her mind like that! He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but there she was, fawning and simpering over that dandy. Well, she could have him!
He watched as they went off arm in arm while he circled around nodding to various acquaintances and even flirting with the girls he had previously discounted. Lucy Smith wasn’t so bad. That giggle of hers would grow on him in time. And Mitsy Parkingham’s complaints could be seen as astute observations. She would keep him on his toes… or drive him to the saloon. He should really take another look at Marcy Donavan. She wouldn’t drive a man to drink… or anything else for that matter. The only danger her husband would face would be that of forgetting she existed. That won’t happen to any man who catches Treli. What a firecracker! He shut his eyes and shook his head hoping to clear it.
“You’ll knock something loose in there if you’re not careful.” Dug down in the mine of his treacherous thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Pinkie walking up beside him. She took his arm and pulled him away from the water trough he had perched on. “What’s got you in such a brown study?”
He related to her what had happened at the quilt booth, ending with the query that had been uppermost in his mind since Treli had walked off on Bailey’s arm. “Why would she go off with the likes of him?”
Pinkie’s ready answer surprised Shep. “For the same reason that Bailey wanted to take her: because it annoyed you.”
“What? Why would they want to annoy me?”
“Oh, Shep, no wonder you’re still single. But there’s hope for you yet if things happened just now as you say they did.” She worried her lip, a crafty look in her eyes. “Treli doesn’t like Bailey. She was just mad at you because you were looking after Betty.”
“But Betty needed looking after. Treli herself was trying to protect her from Bailey’s advances.”
“Of course, she was.”
“So why shouldn’t I?” Why was talking to women so confusing? Shep’s exasperation made his voice a bit louder than it should have been.
Pinkie answered all the more softly. “Of course you should.”
“Then why is she mad at me? That makes no kind of sense at all.”
Pinkie smiled that baffling smile of hers, the one that had always sent Shep ducking for cover when he was a boy, knowing that trouble couldn’t be far behind and grateful that this lady was Vince’s to deal with. “I never said it made sense.”
“But—”
“Just take it as fact and go from there. This is the best thing that’s happened all summer. I had all but given up.” Pinkie’s grin widened.
“On what?”
“On you and Treli getting together.” The twinkle in Pinkie’s eye had Shep almost wincing.
“Getting together? With her? But she’s the most bull-headed, contrary, ornery creature I’ve ever met!”
“Granted.” Pinkie was practically laughing now.
“Then why would I want to… and what makes you think she might…?” Shep gave up, unable to go on, unwilling to let it go, and unaccountably joining in Pinkie’s mirth.
“Why should I spell it out for you?”
“Because I asked. Don’t you think I deserve credit for even trying to understand females?”
Pinkie gave him a reluctant grin. “Treli is a girl with spirit and fire. That’s why you like her. I saw you talking to Marcy. Lovely girl that she is, you were about to fall asleep on your feet after just five minutes. She’s not the girl for you. And Treli’s been squired about town by half a dozen cowboys, but not a one has come back for a second try. And why is that? Because she’s too much for them. Nope, just like I knew from the first time I heard you talking together, you two are perfectly suited. She’ll need someone to tell her ‘no’ when she’s wrong, but help her along when she’s right.”
“And what about me? What about what I need?”
Pinkie
drew back. “A hot meal at the end of a long day, a sweet smile to ease your care and a ready mind to help you through life’s troubles. What more does a man need?”
“An open heart, Miss Pinkie. She’s about as welcoming as a runaway train. No man can stop her.”
“Don’t try. Just slow her down long enough to board.”
Shep considered for a moment. “That’ll be a job in itself.”
“It’ll take time. And patience. And you being here. I’ve heard Vince and Slingo talking about you returning to the Bum Steer. You can’t do that.”
“Maybe I should go back to Bumchuck. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“That might work, but I wouldn’t bet on it. With a girl like Treli, if you leave, you’re likely to find on your return that the train has jumped the track. She’s got no roots in this town. Now that my children are all in school and her leg is healed, she could go back to Mr. Gabor and the circus at any time.”
“Her leg?”
“That’s why she’s with us here in Merriview, Shep. About six months ago, Treli was in an accident with the circus. It was the height of traveling season and Mr. Gabor knew she wouldn’t heal right riding around in a wagon every few nights. They were camped not too far from here so we went and got her.”
“That was a while back. Surely her leg healed up a long time ago,” Shep put in.
“It did indeed, but as she was healing, she helped me with my little ones. They all got so attached, it was easy to get her to stay in the area, but she refused to just live with us without a job to do. Once she was strong enough, I persuaded her to help me at the café, always half expecting for her to announce any day that she was leaving to return to the circus.”
“She wants to go back to that kind of life?” Shep deflated like a leaky hot air balloon, his spirits descending to Earth with a thump. “Town or country, I’ve thought about, but traveling like they do… That’s not for me.”
“She’s never said one way or the other to me, actually. Whenever it comes up, the kids get upset, so we don’t talk about it in front of them. She’s taken to town life, though. I think she’d be happy.”
