by Bella Bowen
The woman laughed, rinsed her little brush, and laid it down. “I do see your point, my dear, but I think you're wrong. You improve by the day, but you may not be able to see it.” She brushed her hands together and signaled for one of the staff to come collect their things. “What you need is a comparison to what you sounded like when you arrived. I think you'll be surprised.”
Molly rinsed her brush quickly so the maid could take it. “A comparison?”
Mrs. Carnegie held out a hand to her. “Come. We'll take a ride into town. I need some new ribbon for a hat I have in mind.”
~ ~ ~
The journey to Sage River was painfully slow and silent.
Mrs. Carnegie was distracted with her own thoughts and Molly tried not to stare at the woman's forehead where it puckered. Instead, she looked straight ahead and watched for the town she remembered vaguely from a month before. Her heart beat a little harder the closer the buggy got. She glanced sideways and realized Mrs. Carnegie looked a bit anxious as well. And that made her wonder if the woman was easily excited by new ribbons, or if there was another reason she'd jumped at the excuse to take Molly to town.
Looking back, it wasn't like Mrs. Carnegie to stop her painting and move on, cheerfully, to any other task. Usually, the woman disliked having her painting peace interrupted.
They entered town from the south where two men were working to fill low spots in the road. Both men stopped, smiled and tipped their hats as the buggy passed. Molly suspected her companion would get the same response from everyone in town. There was something about her that put one in mind of a queen riding through her kingdom.
The women folk on the walkways paused and waved.
Mrs. Carnegie lifted her hand. “Wave to them, Molly. They're not just waving to me, you know.”
Molly did as she was told. Two little boys ran alongside the buggy, grinning up at her. At her. Not at Mrs. Carnegie, whom they could also see clearly over the low edge of the buggy.
Molly smiled and gave the boys a wink. They giggled and ran away.
“Why do they give a fig about me?” she asked.
The woman gave her a knowing smile. “Because of how you hold yourself. People see you as you see yourself, my dear. I often glance at the top of your head, you know—to see if you've left your little book up there.”
Molly laughed lightly, and accepted the compliment with a nod. But she was convinced she was simply basking in the glow of respect aimed at her companion.
The space before the mercantile was filled with wagons, so the woman pulled the buggy over in front of the sheriff's office. She grinned at Molly when men appeared to either side of the conveyance to hand them down.
“Thank you, sir,” Molly said and took the man's hand. He gave her a wrinkled smile and escorted her to the top of the boardwalk. She inclined her head. He tipped his hat and walked away, still smiling.
Mrs. Carnegie was deposited next to her and she thanked her escort in the same manner.
“I'm still not convinced, ma'am. If I'd have come into town alone…”
“You would have been treated exactly the same, my dear. Not only are the people of Sage River respectful to all my brides and staff, they are also protective. What I hoped you might notice is how much more respect you command compared to the day you first arrived.” She frowned and bit her lip. “I think it would be helpful if I bent a rule here. I usually don’t allow any of my brides to be unattended in town, but I’m afraid your judgment will never be clear while you’re standing next to me.” She waved her arm in a wide arc that encompassed the whole town. “Sage River is yours, Molly. Walk around. Watch the people. Speak to them, so you can see that a careful, articulate tongue implies not a slow wit, but wisdom. We’ll meet in an hour at Mrs. Kennedy’s for lunch.”
“Mrs. Kennedy’s?”
“The hotel with the blue doors and shutters.” The woman pointed down the street, then patted Molly’s trembling hand. “You’ll be fine, Molly. You can’t get lost on Main Street.” Then, instead of heading for the mercantile and the ribbons, Mrs. Carnegie slipped inside the sheriff’s office and closed the door behind her.
Molly wasn’t about to shy away from a challenge, so she lifted her chin, determined to look folks in the eye, and started down the boardwalk. Without her famous companion, no one was going to notice Molly unless she got in their way, and she would soon be able to prove it.
CHAPTER SIX
Samuel got himself tucked away in a room in the Kennedy Hotel on a Tuesday. He'd be allowed to meet the ladies from Diamond Springs at a private dance the following evening. So with a day to squander, he pulled a chair over to the window, pulled up the lower sash, and settled in to watch the people of Sage River do what they did while the autumn air filled the room with the smell of crisp leaves and cool pine needles.
The hotel was located directly across the street from the saloon, so he figured he had a front row seat to any excitement that might go on in the little town. It didn't take him long, however, to realize he was wrong.
Folks up and down the far side of the street stopped to stare at something on his side of the street. Men doffed their hats. Children stopped their foolishness. And women put their heads together and nodded. Whatever, or whoever, was making their way down the boardwalk, he was missing it. He tried to content himself with watching the faces on the opposite side of the road, but their antics only made him more intrigued by the mystery that was, at that moment, passing beneath him. He leaned out the window, however the little pent roof blocked his view.
But since he was already on his feet...
He grabbed up the key to his room, locked the door behind him, and hurried down the carpeted stairs, grateful his hurried steps were muffled. In the lobby, he scooted the key to a surprised Mrs. Kennedy, then took long fast strides out the door.
He burst out into a dusty cloud. A noisesome wagon rolled by with its wobbly wheels kicking dust up into the bright midday air. He needn't have hurried, however, because every nose in town was turned in the same direction, assuring him that whatever oddity he was searching for could never have gotten away from him.
He was taller than most, but with so many hats, he was forced to rise onto his toes for a better view. And still he couldn't tell what they were all looking at. If he were a uneasy man, he might have thought the town had all conspired to drive him batty, that they were watching nothing in particular just to see if he could be teased out of his hotel room. Then a child darted across the street in the same direction of all those pointing noses. He only needed to follow that child.
Indomitable, he set off along the boardwalk to his right. Weaving through the crowd that milled around the mercantile proved futile and he stepped down to the street in order to get by. The road wound around the side of the large mercantile building. No more boardwalk.
He looked around for the boy in a clean white shirt. A fast-walking father hauled the child back to the other side of the street. There were no noses left to follow. Everyone seemed suddenly content to go on about their business.
But what had they been watching?
That wary feeling came back again, making him eschew asking anyone what the hubbub had been about. He worried he was over reacting, trying to drum up excitement where there was none. But he wasn't quite ready to go back to the hotel room.
He hurried out of the street to allow a wagon to pass. It pulled up before a set of wide doors on the side of the mercantile and an older man came out to help the driver unload a full bed of heavy wooden cases. Samuel joined other passersby, including an enormous man who had to stand a whole head above Samuel's hat. Together, they stood in a line to pass the boxes into the storehouse.
“Much obliged.” The driver handed him a heavy box.
“Not at all,” Samuel answered.
The man snuck a look at him with every box he passed down and Samuel waited for him to explain why.
Another box changed hands. “You one of those bridegrooms?”
; Samuel passed the box along and realized the other men were watching him, waiting for his answer.
“Might be.” He couldn't help smiling.
The man to his right frowned. “What d'ya mean, might be?”
Samuel laughed. “Well, I can't say for sure until I set eyes on the ladies, can I? And the dance isn't until tomorrow.”
The driver grimaced and shook his head, then cleared his face of all signs of emotion before anyone else had a chance to see. But for the life of him, Samuel didn't understand what he'd done wrong.
He passed the last box on and took a step back. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. The driver winced on his behalf and hurried into the storehouse without a word.
Samuel turned to see who dared lay hand to an armed stranger.
It was the giant. No wonder the hand was so heavy. And it dawned on Samuel that this man was likely the oddity that had captured the attention of at least half the town.
“You don’t have to wait until tomorrow,” the big man said. “One of the ladies is just there.”
The large hand moved from Samuel’s shoulder to point farther down the way where a woman in a wide-brimmed, yellow hat walked away from them with a small following of children shadowing her. She paused and turned sharply, catching the little ones at her game and capturing Samuel’s heart in the same second.
“Take my advice, friend,” the big man continued. “Don’t let anyone in this town hear you say a woman like that isn’t good enough for you.”
Samuel’s gaze jerked away from the angel and followed a path up a massive chest to the big man’s sly smile. “Never,” he promised.
The large fellow laughed and moved on. Samuel’s attention flew back to the woman in yellow, but she’d moved on as well. All he could see of her was the back of her hat and the stately swing of her skirts as she passed around the corner of the large town hall.
He followed like a puppy.
~ ~ ~
On the north side of the town hall, Samuel found the woman walking sedately past the tanner and saddlery. She passed by the door without going inside. Next was the Cart Wright. Apparently she had no business to conduct there either. At the end of the walkway, she stopped and looked to her right. A small sign on a post said the blacksmith’s lay north, up the small incline. Before her lay the better portion of the stock yard, though it looked all but abandoned.
The woman spun around and headed back toward him before he could think to disguise what he was doing. Though the children had followed her around for a bit, it was only Samuel still followed.
He removed his hat and nodded.
She stopped cold with ten good feet between them.
It wasn't as if they were alone. At least a hundred eyes were watching them, he was sure. But she didn’t seem to realize that and eyed him like a rattler she’d just stumbled upon.
He smiled. “I guess you caught me, Miss.”
She smiled slightly, but looked no less cautious.
“My name's Samuel Craighton. If you're from Diamond Springs, I expect we'll be seeing each other tomorrow, at the dance.”
She swallowed hard. “Possibly.”
He couldn't help gulping in the sight of her like a man fresh out of the dessert. She was that beautiful. Her hair was the color of the cinnamon spices Rosie always spilled about when she was baking. The bulk of it was tucked up under the hat, but thick drapes of it hung halfway down her neck. Her eyes were dark. Her gaze direct. Intelligent…but not full of pride.
If none of the other potential bridegrooms had seen her yet, he wanted to find a way to stake a claim to her. Surely they weren’t all like this! But how was he, a stranger, to tell the woman such a thing without scaring the devil out of her?
He considered stepping closer, but she was as alert as a downwind deer. Though he couldn't see her legs, he wouldn't be surprised if she was bracing to run if necessary. He needed to get her somewhere she'd feel safe.
“It's a lovely town,” he said. “But it looks like we've found the end of it.” He turned to the side and lifted his right elbow away from his body. “May I see you back? I promise, ma’am, I'll stay on my best behavior.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. He waited for her to come to him. Once she stood next to him, he looked pointedly at his elbow, still on offer. She gave her head a little shake. He dropped his arm back to his side and smiled brighter to tell her he took no offense.
In unison, they started walking back the way they'd come. He strode slow and steady. Still nervous, her steps were less regular than when she'd been walking alone. But after they passed the Tanner's again, she'd caught a rhythm.
“May I know your name?” He put his hands behind his back for lack of something better to do with them. “If that doesn’t go against some rule, that is.”
“Molly. Molly Brumley”
He frowned. “Oh, no. That won't do. You need to have an incredibly long name. How else can I hear more of your pretty voice?”
She bit her bottom lip, but he detected the hint of a smile. At least he'd amused her some. But he was bungling it badly.
“And where are you from?” He laid his fingers gently on her arm and stopped.
She stopped with him, curious.
“Please tell me you're from Mississippi, or somewhere with a lot of syllables. A long name, I beg you.” That earned him a grin and they began walking again. “Something like, the thriving metropolis of Allegheny Mississippi, population three hundred fifty thousand, seven hundred seventy-six. You don't need to be accurate about the population. Just make something up.”
She laughed then with a giggle as sweet as sugar taffy. But she stopped herself with a hand to her mouth, and she was back to biting her lip.
And just how was he to keep himself from staring at that poor misused lip? How was he to stop the idea from coming—that he might be tasting that lip in the near future. In fact, he might be taking that lip home with him!
A shoulder bumped soundly into his left side and nearly knocked him off his feet.
“Pardon me,” an older gentleman said, tipped his hat to the woman, then gave Samuel a sharp look before he went on his way.
Samuel laughed quietly and resumed walking. They crossed to the south and walked along the strip of shadow that ran along the side of the town hall.
“May I ask what amused you just now?” she asked.
He clasped his hands behind him again and leaned his head close so he could speak quietly. “I think your public has just reminded me that you still belong to them.”
She frowned. A delicate little bump rose between her lovely wing-like brows.
“My public?”
“Yes.” He looked around them and found a dozen men and women frowning his way. But when Miss Brumley followed suit, they all smiled at her.”
“Your public. You're one of the princesses of Sage River. They are your adoring people. And it looks as if you are well guarded from the likes of me.”
She smiled generously. “Oh? Should I be guarded against you, Mr. Craighton?”
He sighed deeply. “A beauty like you, Miss Brumley, should be guarded from all men. Young. Old.” The boy in the clean white shirt had eluded his father again and was chasing another boy down the street. His shirt was no longer white. “And that fellow there should be watched very carefully.”
They reached the corner again and with a raised brow, he asked which way. She pointed to the left, to the less-busy boardwalk in front of the mercantile, and they crossed.
He offered his hand to help her up the three little steps and was thrilled when she took it. Once on the boardwalk, however, she took her hand back again with the implied excuse of needing it to smooth her skirts. After they passed the large windows full of watchful faces, she stopped and looked him in the eye.
“I believe you're wrong, sir. I think these people only protect what they see as Mrs. Carnegie's investment. It has nothing to do with me.”
He doubted the red on her cheeks was due to th
e sun. After all, they were in Wyoming. And it was autumn. So Samuel could only assume the woman was genuinely humble, embarrassed by his compliment.
He snatched up her hand and pulled her farther down the walk, away from any ears that might be straining their way. She didn't resist, but he didn't pull her far, just up to an expanse of the hotel wall before the windows began. Then he let her have her hand back, but only after they were standing close.
“My dear, Miss Brumley. I'll confess something and I urge you to believe me.”
She swallowed cautiously, but she didn't look away.
“You could have been wearing rags today. No hat. No pretty frock. You could have been just another citizen of Sage River and you STILL would have drawn me to you like a puppy to a stick.”
She seemed shocked to hear such a thing—he was a little shocked himself to be saying it to a woman he just met—but at least she didn't roll her eyes.
He gave her his most charming smile, because he very much wanted her to think he was charming.
“Will I see you at the dance, Molly Brumley?”
She bit her lip again. All smiles were wiped away.
“I have to go,” she said. “I'm meeting Mrs. Carnegie at the hotel.”
Samuel cocked his head. “I'll let you go if you promise me a dance.”
Her smile returned. She side-stepped around him and headed for hotel entrance. A man opened the door for her, but she turned back before she stepped inside.
“Booneville, Prentiss County, Mississippi. Population two thousand twenty one.”
“Honest?”
She winked at him and disappeared.
Samuel imagined the look on her face if he walked inside after her. But he didn't want to spook her more than he already had, so he crossed the street to see if a meal could be had at the saloon.
A little while later, a barmaid set his steak down in front of him. “Is there anything else you need?”
Samuel smirked. “You wouldn't happen to know the population of Booneville, Mississippi, would you?”
