He’d heard their cruel words, thank goodness, but had he seen her response? Regardless, she was glad for his presence and took a step toward him. It wasn’t close enough for his liking, evidently, because his hand reached for her, his fingers wrapping securely around her upper arm as he pulled her behind him protectively before he continued dressing down the three women.
“Lucy Banks,” he barked at the next in line. “Your pa would be appalled that you were a party to this. As the preacher for our community, he teaches kindness to others, not vitriol and hate. And I dare say Luther Pritchard, who is also an upstanding, churchgoing man, wouldn’t think much of his intended behaving in such a way.”
Heath’s attention moved to the last of her assailants, although the pretty redhead was really only guilty of having poor taste in friends.
Wisteria almost felt sorry for the girl, having felt the heat of Heath’s accusatory glare before, as well as the bite of one of his reckoning at the woodshed type of lectures, but these young women needed to be called on for their behavior. She wasn’t about to stop her brother-in-law in the midst of a set-down, and one in her defense, at that.
“As for you, Marcy Jean.” His voice reflected his disappointment as he turned to the last of the three. “What would Russell have to say about all this?”
“Please, don’t tell him. I didn’t say anything mean, Mr. Jackson, except for calling Lucy fat.”
Lucy gasped once more at the slight. Wisteria found the girl’s guile too amusing to keep from laughing and tried to choke it back. Not entirely successful, she felt Heath’s fingers tighten in warning.
“That may be so, Marcy,” he went on scolding. “All the same, if it was my wife behaving in such a manner, I’d want to know. Furthermore, you didn’t do anything to stop them, did you? Three on one is hardly fair odds. How would you feel if three women you didn’t know accosted you in a dress shop and said horrible things about you and your precious little girl?”
“I wouldn’t like it,” she declared, frowning at her friends. “Not one little bit!” She frowned for a moment, looking first at Heath before her gaze, now shiny with a mist of unshed tears, shifted to Wisteria. “I’m sorry I didn’t take up for you and your baby. I’m a terrible person.”
“No, Marcy,” Wisteria replied softly, “you just need to find a better set of friends.”
“You be sure to tell Russell what went on here, Marcy Jean,” Heath advised in a softer, but still very authoritative tone.
She nodded as the tears overflowed. She then whirled and ran out of the shop, Lucy following more slowly in her wake. That left Frannie all on her own. Except when Wisteria looked back at her as the dress shop door clicked shut, she didn’t appear the least bit remorseful. Even Heath’s angry regard directed solely at her didn’t make her flinch.
“I’d tell your mother about what went on here today, Miss Winthrop, but I doubt it would do any good.”
“I’ll tell her, Mr. Jackson, and if she doesn’t take a switch to this nasty girl’s tail, she can find another seamstress.” The newest voice entering the fray belonged to Minerva Mayhew, who stood in front of the curtained doorway that led to the fitting room in the back of her store. Wisteria didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, but she hoped fervently that she hadn’t heard all of Frannie’s ugly remarks.
“But Mrs. Mayhew,” Frannie whined in alarm, “you’re the only seamstress between here and Cheyenne.”
Sure, the threat of losing her dressmaker gets her attention, selfish girl.
“I am well aware of that, missy. As such, I have the luxury to be selective about the women I welcome into my shop.”
“You wouldn’t! Mama is your friend.”
“Hardly. She’s as mean-spirited as you are, Frannie. I merely tolerate her, but no more. Believe you me, it won’t be a hardship to turn away your business. The milliner and the boot and glove maker will feel the same way after a word from me. So I suggest you stop your malicious ways. Spreading lies and gossip all over town about good people like Mrs. Jackson has to stop this instant. In fact, you owe her an apology, here and now.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Then you can find someone else to take in your bodice seams.” She stared pointedly at Frannie’s chest as she said it. “And your mama can find someone else to let hers out.”
Wisteria gasped right along with Frannie. Mrs. Mayhew had not only drawn attention to the girl’s lack of endowments, but had called her mother fat in front of Heath. Unable to stop the mirth from bubbling up inside of her, she covered her mouth with both hands in a valiant effort to contain it. It didn’t stop the laughter that shook her slight frame, however, and Frannie noticed.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” she screeched, stomping her foot.
“I think we’re through here,” Heath cut in sharply. “We’re obviously not getting anywhere, Mrs. Mayhew, so you may as well save your breath. Frannie is apparently just as bullheaded as her mother.” His lip curled as he addressed the red-faced, fuming young woman. “Let me give you some advice, young lady, which I sincerely hope you’ll take to heart. If you ever anticipate marrying a decent man in this town, you’ll need to curb your malicious tongue and spiteful ways. Otherwise, you’ve a long, lonely, miserable life ahead of you. I promise you that.”
“I don’t need advice,” she squawked, “especially coming from a Jackson, or a seamstress.” The last bit she threw at Mrs. Mayhew with a sneer. “When I tell all my friends about my mistreatment in your shop, they’ll stay away in droves.” Her already red cheeks turned crimson when she was angry, as did the tip of her nose, which was a look not becoming in the least. Eyes filled with hatred, she glared at Wisteria one more time before she also spun on her heel and fled the shop.
“What an awful young woman,” Wisteria exclaimed. “Is there nothing we can do to keep her from spreading gossip about your dress shop, ma’am? I wouldn’t want to see her lies hurt your business.”
“Pshaw, honey. Frannie Winthrop’s friends can be counted on one hand, less three fingers. You met the extent of her circle just now. Her mother isn’t much better, a bully of the highest order, that woman is.”
Wisteria’s shoulders slumped, not having realized how tensely she’d been holding them until that moment. “I don’t know what I would have done if you two weren’t here to help me, you especially, Heath.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “With that Colt .45 holstered to your leg, I think you would have done just fine on your own, honey. Although I’ll admit to being afraid Mrs. Mayhew wouldn’t have been able to get Frannie’s blood out of those taffeta gowns on the rack behind you, so I thought it best to intervene before you plugged her full of lead.”
Heat suffused her face. “I was hoping you didn’t see that.”
“It was hard to miss, and I’m guessing by the look on your face, my brother doesn’t have the first clue that you came to town packing iron.”
“Um… It’s never actually come up in conversation. So no, he doesn’t.”
“If it was Jenny, I’d want to know.” He looked down at her, his eyes bearing the same glint of warning that Luke’s often did. “I’ll tell you what, little sister. I’ll leave you to break that news to Luke.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I’m trusting you to follow through. Can I do that?”
“I promise to tell him the minute I see him.”
“Then that’s good enough for me. Thank Mrs. Mayhew for her help and we’ll go find your husband.”
Having forgotten the woman’s presence, she turned to her now with a chagrined smile. “I’m sorry for the ruckus, ma’am, can’t thank you enough for your help. I think the threat of losing her dressmaker scared Frannie more than Heath’s glares.”
“I noticed that too, the selfish girl. But I welcome a reason to turn her away. I’ve been trying to find a good way to give those Winthrop women the boot for a while now. Not only are they mean, they’re behind on their accounts. So, if you
think about it, you’ve really done me a favor.”
“I doubt that, but I appreciate you saying so.”
The older woman smiled, her cheeks flushed with obvious enjoyment at the bit of excitement. As she turned to go, she stopped and called, “Oh, Heath—”
“Ma’am?”
“Tell your mother I have the yard goods and patterns she ordered for her new curtains. Or, I could send them with you.”
“I’ll tell her. That way you’ll be able to retell this tale in person when she comes to fetch them herself.”
She laughed, shaking her head at his teasing, which was as good as the truth.
“Goodbye then,” Heath said with an affectionate smile, his hand—which hadn’t ever left Wisteria’s arm—guiding her to the door. As he opened it and handed her through, Wisteria glanced up at him. “I don’t suppose Frannie knew Mrs. Mayhew was such a good friend of your mother’s.”
“No, I don’t suppose she did,” he replied with a wink.
“I’m beginning to see how powerful the Jackson clan really is.”
“And we take care of our own.”
“You certainly did that.” She tilted her head further back, marveling over how the Jackson men were not only powerful, but also very tall. A little smile played upon his handsome face. A sudden thought made her own dim briefly.
He noticed. “Something wrong?”
“Why the change of heart?”
“About what?”
“About me. I got the impression you didn’t like me much.”
That stopped him in his tracks, which brought her to a halt as well.
“I never disliked you, Wisteria. I saw a young woman down on her luck and mixed up with some rough characters, even if one was your brother. This made me cautious.”
“It didn’t help that I ran, lied to you, and kept a terrible secret.”
“I’d hardly call Micah terrible, honey. I’m fond of the little mite and am rather enjoying being an uncle. Between him and Will, I’m getting a lot of practice for when my own son comes along in the near future.”
She ignored his attempt to lighten the mood. “I didn’t mean Micah was terrible. I meant that Luke being a father was terrible.” When he shot her a look of surprise, she sputtered, “No, that’s not right either.” His expression had turned patently amused and she tried restating her point one more time. “I was trying to say that my keeping him a secret was the terrible part.”
“Wisteria, I understand what you were saying and I’m sorry for teasing. I also regret being so harsh with you in the past and for making you feel like I thought less of you, but Luke—”
“Is your little brother and you wanted to protect him from big bad ole me.”
“Yeah, you’re so big and scary, I was afraid for him.” His teasing grin faded. “In truth, we’re family now. I hope you can forgive me for acting like a horse’s ass and that we can move beyond our rather contentious beginning.”
“I’d like that, Heath. I admire the way you stick up for Luke and your family. And with the way you defended me with Frannie and her friends, it made me feel like I was family too.”
He grinned. Wrapping his long arm around her shoulders, he drew her in tight against his side in a half bear hug. “I’m happy to be your big brother, honey, and I want you to remember, if I’m not around, you have Aaron to turn to, as well as pa. Any of us will come to your defense in a minute. You’ve got a whole passel of Jacksons ready to love and support you and Micah, but most of all, Wisteria, you have Luke. He’s a good man and you can depend on him to protect you with his life, and that’s not just his brother saying so. It’s the God’s honest truth.”
“I’m so lucky to have you all. Even so, if we don’t stop being sappy, I’m going to burst into tears right here in the middle of Main Street and give people more than they already have to talk about.”
“We can’t have that. All those tears might rust that Peacemaker on your ankle.”
She looked up at him and caught his grin, prompting a big one of her own.
“What has the two of you looking happier than pigs in sh—uh, mud?”
Heath laughed while Wisteria giggled, knowing full well what he’d started to say. “Nice save, little brother.”
Luke’s mouth kicked up on one side as he shrugged, glancing from a very amused Heath to his grinning wife.
“I’m sorry I was late, darlin’. There was a mix-up in my order at the mill. Heath was loaded and heading out, so I asked that he come and fetch you so you didn’t have to wait and wonder.”
“That was thoughtful.” Her eyes lifted to Heath with a smile. “I’m ever so glad that you did.”
“It gave me and your pretty bride a chance to get better acquainted. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” Wisteria agreed with an impish grin. “In fact, he was giving me pointers on how to handle nasty heifers with mean streaks.”
When Heath burst into laughter, Luke gave him a skeptical look.
“Since when are you an expert on heifers? Mares, maybe, what with you always rushing off to the stables and leaving me and pa with the cow breeding.”
“Since forever. You don’t know the half of what I know about mean, nasty heifers.”
It was Wisteria’s turn to laugh. As she did, Luke caught her hand and tugged her out from under Heath’s arm and right into his, not stopping his back and forth with his brother.
“Am I missing something here?” he demanded. “We’ve worked on that ranch together for over ten years and before that on the farm back east. I know as much if not more than you. Barely a minute went by when we weren’t in rock-throwing distance from each other.”
“And he did that on occasion, Wisteria, beware.”
“Hmph,” came from between Luke’s closed lips. “At least we’re living at opposite ends of the spread and have a little space between us, fifty thousand acres to be precise.”
“Did you forget, little brother? My new house is going up on the hill behind yours. I believe Jenny could throw a rock and hit your barn.”
“Well, damn.”
“Luke. You’re not serious. I’ll love having Jenny so close.”
“I’m teasing, darlin’. I’ll like having her near, as well. Big brother here is a whole other story, however. He snores—loud. If they sleep with their windows up, we won’t have a minute of peace, and I worry that Micah might wake in the night scared it’s a grizzly bear instead of his uncle.”
Having seen this kind of joking and barb slinging amongst the brothers, Wisteria took it all in stride—even when they continued in this manner as the three of them walked down the boardwalk toward where the wagons were hitched. As she passed by a rotund, red-bearded man in a black hat, Wisteria recalled the other man from earlier. She began to furtively study each man they passed who wore a black Stetson. Had she been imagining a resemblance out of fear? How could Virgil have known she’d come to Laramie? Jarrett had never wanted to talk about his and Slim’s ill-conceived and disastrous silver mining scheme, so why would he have shared it with Virgil and Zeke?
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Luke asked. She glanced up, surprised they’d arrived at their wagon and that Heath had already pulled his own into the steady flow of traffic.
“Yes, why?”
“You seem distracted.”
“I have something to tell you that I don’t think you’re going to like.”
His dark brows gathered. “Do I need to be sitting down for this?”
“Perhaps.”
“What is it?”
“Can I tell you as we drive? I want to get home to Micah.”
“Are you stalling?”
“No, I’m getting uncomfortable.” She gestured to her swollen chest that truly was aching. She’d been away from Micah for several hours. In full understanding, Luke lifted her up on the seat without another word. He looked as though he were weighing and not liking the many possibilities as he came around and joined her on the bench, flicking the rein
s and setting the team in motion.
With his attention focused on maneuvering the full wagon in the teeming streets, they didn’t speak until they reached the less crowded west end of town on the road leading to the ranch.
“Okay, let’s hear it, but give it to me quickly,” he insisted, with a long drawn-out sigh. “All this speculation is killing me.”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re thinking. You make it sound like you’re taking medicine. Hoping to get it over with fast so you won’t mind the awful taste.”
“Now I know you’re stalling. Tell me.”
She took a deep breath, deciding it might be easier to show him, rather than tell. Propping the heel of her half boot on the toe board of the wagon, she pulling her skirt up to mid-calf.
Struck momentarily speechless, clearly not having expected this, he stared at the gun, which had been a gift from her papa the year before he died. She watched him on tenterhooks. His silence didn’t last long as his shocked gaze rose to her face.
“Criminy, woman! What are you doing wearing a six-gun?”
“Habit. I’ve worn a firearm since papa taught me to shoot when I was ten.”
“Jaysus,” he groaned, hanging his head. “A ten-year-old girl with a gun. What was he thinking?”
“We lived in rough places. Some worse than South Town, although not nearly as smelly.” She grimaced, remembering the stench well. “After ma passed, we moved around a lot. You know how dangerous traveling the roadway can be. Imagine fifteen years ago when it was more of a frontier than it is now. He wanted me to be able to protect myself.”
“I get that, but criminy, woman,” he repeated, “you’re not on the trail any longer.”
“No, though you keep telling me Laramie has some rough places and people, that there are outlaws and such. Besides, I know how to handle a gun, honey, or papa wouldn’t have given me this one when I was fifteen.”
Closing his eyes, he groaned yet again.
“Maybe I should stop talking.”
“Yeah, maybe, because I’m starting to feel sick.”
Yet, she didn’t stop, trying to make him understand. “His lessons helped me save Jenny when her vile uncle kidnapped her. And I can’t tell you how many times it came in handy while living in Denver. There was this time when I was five months along with Micah. I was coming home from work at The Inn when—”
Wild Wisteria Page 13
