by Merry Farmer
He scowled. “What do you know about me signing documents?”
She sighed and shook her head. “More than you do, son. More than you do.”
Before he could ask more questions, she hurried on, muttering to herself. Rupert watched her go, then stared at the pencil in his hand. It was an ordinary pencil, short from use, and whittled at the end to make the lead sharp. He shook his head and thought about throwing it away, but something stopped him. Instead, he shoved it into his pocket and marched off of the station platform. There was nothing he could do about the situation now. Bonnie was gone. She’d abandoned him again. And Lord help him, he had a wedding to go to.
It was a unique kind of torture to drag himself back to his cottage. Even after just one night, it felt emptier without Bonnie. He struggled through the motions of dressing in his finest suit and grooming himself to look presentable. If anyone other than Dmitri and Zelle were getting married, he would have climbed back into bed, pulled the covers up, and ignored them. But Dmitri had become a good friend, and the Carpenters were almost like family. There was nothing he could do but put on a happy face—or at least not one that would frighten away small children and give old ladies apoplexy—and attend the dang wedding.
Thoughts of Bonnie plagued him throughout the entire service. Had he done something wrong? Was there anything he could have done differently? But no, he’d done the only things he could. For those few, scintillating hours, he thought he’d succeeded where he didn’t even know he was trying. They were magical in bed together. But she’d left, just up and gone. He didn’t know which was worse, the fact that she’d gone or that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
His heart was sinking lower by the moment after the ceremony ended. Another blissfully happy couple, and where was he? Still alone. He did his best to at least pretend to be happy for his friends as he, Gordon, Max, and Skipper stood in a cluster by the refreshment table after the wedding. His mind was a thousand miles away. Or, not a thousand, but at least a hundred. How far was it to Haskell anyhow?
“…not going to get much of anywhere with these two.”
Max’s muttering to Skipper jerked Rupert out of this thoughts. “What?”
“Never mind,” Max chuckled. He nodded across the yard to where the bride and groom stood. “These two sad sacks are all yours, Skip.”
Without further explanation, Max marched off, shaking his head and chuckling. Rupert was thoroughly confused. “What’s gotten into him?”
Skipper was having a hard time containing his laughter. “Who, Max or Gordon?”
“Gordon?” Rupert turned to his other friend, only to find him gazing raptly out over the crowd of wedding guests. He didn’t seem to hear Rupert’s question. Talk about being a thousand miles away.
“Gordy? Ahoy, man!”
Gordon shook himself and turned back to Rupert and Skipper. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at something for so long that Max gave up on us and wandered off to poke fun at Dmitri,” Skipper told him. “Although, I’ve got to admit that Dmitri’s pretty easy to tease these days, walking around with that stupid grin on his face all the time.”
Gordon and Rupert both shifted to look across the yard to where Max had approached Dmitri. “Aye,” Gordon had to agree. “He’s been like a cat in the cream since his Zelle agreed t’ marry him, hasn’t he?”
Max and Dmitri were laughing heartily now. For some reason, that only made Rupert’s heart ache more acutely. It didn’t seem right that anyone else should be happy when he was so miserable. Still, he tried to look and sound upbeat.
“Frankly, I’m impressed he waited this long,” he said so quietly that the other two leaned in to hear him.
Gordon snorted. “Have ye met Doc Carpenter? The man can hold his own in a fight, despite bein’, what, near fifty, I figure?”
“Good point!” Skipper laughed. “I wouldn’t want him angry at me. Marrying an orphan suddenly sounds appealing!”
Rupert forced himself to laugh at the joke, but underneath, he felt as though he was either going to explode or simply poof into dust. Skipper was a lucky man to still be single. Marriage could be wonderful, but it was far and away the most painful thing a man could do if it didn’t work out right.
Skipper wasn’t done teasing. “How about it, Rupert? You’ve been looking distracted lately, ever since that pretty Miss Bonnie Horner from Haskell showed up.” He elbowed Rupert in the ribs. “Want me to ask around to see if she’s got a father as scary as Doc Carpenter?”
Scowling, Rupert took a step backward. “She doesn’t. Trust me.” He’d never met Bonnie’s father, and never wanted to. He didn’t think much of a man who would disown his daughter just because she ran off to be a mail-order bride.
The thought struck Rupert. Bonnie had a history of running when things got tough. Maybe she did that because she just wanted someone to run after her. Maybe she ran so that she could be caught.
“Where is she anyhow, Rupert? Wasn’t she supposed to come to the wedding with you?” Skipper pushed on, evidently not sensing Rupert’s mood.
“She left,” Rupert grumbled.
“Uh-oh, trouble aloft?”
“Ye mean that ye let her get away?” Gordon added. “She was a bonny one, all right…what kind of man lets a woman like that slip out o’ his arms, an’ not chase after her?”
It would have been easier if his friend had slapped him. Rupert turned his scowl toward Gordon, and Skip made a noise suspiciously like laughter and answered, “A right scallywag, that’s who.”
“I think I get your point, gentlemen,” Rupert said through clenched teeth. His patience for the conversation, for everything in his life, was fast approaching its end.
“Do you?” Skip was either trying to provoke Rupert into doing something or provoke himself into a black eye. “I feel like I need to spell these things out for you. After all, I am the more intelligent, and better looking, one in this partnership, you know.”
“That’s enough,” Rupert growled.
Something in the crowd of wedding guests caught Gordon’s eyes, and he mentally left the conversation, even though he continued to stand right there. Skipper noticed and took advantage of their relative seclusion.
“Matey, I’ve known you too long to think that whatever that argument you had with Miss Bonnie Horner was casual.”
“Shut up, Skipper.”
Skip shook his head. “I don’t think you need me to shut up.”
“Really, I do.”
“Is that why the two of you disappeared from the party last night so early?”
Rupert’s face burned with…not shame, exactly. He’d been caught, though. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “None of your business,” he grumbled.
“Rupert!” It was such a shock to hear Skipper call him by his name so forcefully that Rupert stood straighter. Skipper had his full attention, and he knew it. “I understand that whatever is going on here, you don’t want to tell me about it. That’s fine. I respect that.”
“It’s not that I—”
“But—” Skipper cut him off, raising a hand. “I’m not going to stand here and watch you make a mistake. And whatever you say, I have this feeling you are indeed about to make a mistake.”
Rupert’s mouth was open to reply, but he snapped it shut again. Beside them, as if coming out of a daze and falling into another one, Gordon nodded, thrust his hands into his pockets, and wandered away in the direction of Briar Jorgenson, of all people. More than anything, Rupert wanted to make a comment about that to direct his and Skip’s conversation away from his problems, but Skipper wasn’t having it.
“Now.” Skipper shifted his weight to his other leg. “Where is Miss Bonnie this morning?”
As badly as Rupert wanted to lie and say he didn’t know and didn’t care, he couldn’t lie to Skipper. They’d gone through too much and come too far together. “She left.”
“Left?”
“She was gone this morning when
I woke up.” Let Skip make of that what he would.
The understanding in his friend’s eyes said he grasped the basics of what had happened last night. “Without explanation?”
Rupert hesitated. “She left a note saying she was sorry.”
Skipper blinked. “That’s it?”
“She…” Rupert winced and rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to take a long drink of the “special” lemonade he held, but he wasn’t sure his stomach could take it at that point. “She has a whole life back in Haskell. She owns a…business.” Skipper didn’t need to know what kind.
“Plenty of women own businesses.” Skipper shrugged. “I don’t see how that would stop the two of you from pursuing things. Especially since…” He looked instantly uncomfortable. “She spent the night at your place?”
And now his best friend probably thought he was a cad too. How could he explain that he and Bonnie should be celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary, that technically there was nothing sinful about the two of them tumbling through paradise.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to explain. Skipper shook his head. “Tell me truthfully. Did you know Miss Bonnie more than casually before she showed up at The Gingerbread Man the other day?”
“Yes.” He hoped Skipper wasn’t looking for a more elaborate answer than that.
“Do you love her?” Skip asked the question in an almost brotherly voice.
It took Rupert several seconds of swallowing down memories and fighting off emotions that ran as deep as the sea before he could say, “Yes.” He took a long swig of his lemonade as soon as he did.
Skipper waited until he was done before saying, “Then it’s obvious what you have to do.”
“What do I have to do?” Rupert’s stomach churned. He knew the answer.
Skip grinned. “You have to go after her, matey. You have to go win her back.”
Rupert frowned. “It isn’t going to work. She made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want me. She’s choosing her…her business over me.”
Skipper shrugged. “Who says she can’t have both?”
“I can’t just leave Everland when we’re in the middle of building those new cottages, not to mention the renovations on the old bank,” Rupert argued.
“Yes, you can. We’re a partnership, remember?” He thumped Rupert on the arm with his free hand. “I’ll stick around so you can go off and win your lady.”
Rupert had serious doubts as to whether it was possible to win Bonnie, but the fact that Skipper would keep a lid on things while he tried, that he was willing to give Rupert the time to go after a dream…
“I don’t see John Henry at the party,” Skipper added, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I bet he’s at the station. He’d probably know when the next train to Haskell comes through. There might even be one tonight.”
Whatever resistance Rupert had was fading fast. Haskell wasn’t that far away. He could hop a train and zip over there, if only to demand answers from Bonnie. At the very least, she needed to explain to him why she left without saying goodbye. He’d settle for a good, solid explanation as to why—
Who was he kidding? He wanted her back and he wanted her now.
“Thanks, Skip.”
He thrust his half-empty lemonade cup into Skip’s hands, then turned and darted away from the reception, dodging everyone who tried to stop him or pull him into conversation. As he reached the edge of the churchyard, be broke into a jog. That jog became a run as he neared Everland’s train station. By the time he reached the ticket window, he was running so fast that he skidded to a halt.
“John! John!” he called into to the office. “When’s the next train to Haskell?”
John Henry was eating his supper at the station’s desk, but he got up with a smile—as if he knew what was going on—and checked the train schedule. His smile turned into a slight frown. “Looks like the next one isn’t until tomorrow morning.”
Rupert wanted to shout in frustration. But behind that burst was a growing sense of rightness and purpose. “I’ll take one ticket,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Tomorrow morning was a long time to wait, but the hours between now and then would give him time to prepare a few things. He needed to pack for a long trip, because he wasn’t going to leave Haskell until he and Bonnie had sorted things out, once and for all.
Chapter 7
“Haskell! Haskell station!”
Bonnie jolted from her hazy half-sleep, her head pressed up against the train window as the porter—one she didn’t know this time—called out her destination. She shifted across the seat toward the aisle and pushed herself to stand. Every muscle in her body groaned in protest. Some were sore from the unusual activities she’d engaged in with too much abandon the night before. The rest were just plumb worn out.
She was getting older. Her back protested as she reached for her carpetbag on the rack above her seat. Older but in no way wiser. Her heart thudded in her chest like a great, wet blanket every time her thoughts drifted back to the low-down, rotten, shady thing she’d just done. She was wrong to have left Rupert without a word, wrong not to have sat down and explained things to him, wrong, wrong, wrong. But what could she have done?
Nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing that would have made the situation any better. In fact, she thought as she slogged her way up to the front of the train car near the door, by trying to do anything at all, she’d only made matters infinitely worse.
“Haskell!” the porter called one last time as the train’s whistle blew and its brakes screeched. “Haskell station! We’ll be stopping for half an hour, if you want to get out and stretch your legs.”
Some other time, Bonnie would have considered putting in a plug for any single men in need of a little company coming up to her place. Heaven knew she should wrangle up some business. Sick as it made her, the girls would need to carry more responsibility for making the money the Place needed to keep its doors open once Rex found out the truth. The train lurched to a stop in perfect timing with the wave of nausea that hit her with thoughts of Rex. She’d be lucky if he let her keep her Place. She’d be lucky if he didn’t murder her.
“Welcome back, Miss Bonnie.” The bright, smiling face of Athos Strong met Bonnie as she stepped down from the train. Always sunny since his marriage to Elspeth earlier that summer, Athos rushed to give her a hand as she descended the last big step to the station platform. “Did you have a good trip?”
Bonnie answered with a wry laugh. “Not even close.”
Still smiling, Athos said, “I’m sorry to hear that. We’re certainly glad to have you home, though.”
Of all things, that little slice of kindness cut straight to Bonnie’s heart. She squeezed Athos’s hand before letting go. “It’s good to be home.”
That much was true, at least. Haskell had become her home in so many ways in the last few years. Far more than the sad patch she’d grown up on in West Virginia, and infinitely more than Denver. The very thought of Denver made her already touchy stomach churn more.
“Morning, Bonnie.” Sheriff Trey Knighton touched the brim of his hat and nodded to her as their paths crossed near the juncture of Main Street and Station Street. “Where’ve you been?”
“Everland,” she answered. There was no need to make up stories when she was on her home turf.
“Interesting place, Everland.” Trey nodded. “There’s more trees there than any place in Wyoming that I’ve seen.”
“There are.” She hadn’t really noticed, but that seemed the right response. “You have yourself a good day, Trey.”
“You too.”
They both moved on. It wasn’t anywhere close to the sort of balm she needed for her soul, but kind words and familiar, smiling faces were starting to loosen the knots in her back. She nodded to her neighbors as she made her way up Main Street to her Place. Even the folks who routinely turned their noses up at her seemed a comfort in their predictability.
“Bonnie, you’re back!” P
earl burst with enthusiasm as soon as Bonnie walked through the front door.
“Bonnie! It’s Bonnie!” several of the others called out.
Bonnie’s brow flew up as she shut the front door behind her. Where most people would have expected to see a lurid display of carnality upon entering a self-professed whorehouse, Bonnie was met with nothing more than a somewhat extravagantly-decorated home. The Place must not have been opened for business, even at that late hour of the afternoon, because instead of wearing low-cut tops, corsets in vivid colors, and skirts hiked up to show shapely calves, almost all of the girls wore what they called their “normal” clothes. Modest sleeves, simple cuts, and subdued colors were the order of the day. Della even wore one of the high collars that were becoming so popular with the respectable set.
“What’s going on here?” Bonnie set her carpetbag on the hall table and moved into the large main room. It was decorated with crepe paper streamers and flowers. A cake and a bowl of punch sat on the table where the girls usually played cards with guests. A festive air filled the room.
“It’s Samantha’s going away party,” Pearl explained. She took Bonnie’s arm and led her deeper into the room. “She’s all set to head off to England on tonight’s train.”
In a flash, the gloom of all Bonnie’s personal problems shifted to the side, making way for guilt over forgetting something so important in the life of one of her girls. “Samantha.” She opened her arms and crossed the rest of the room to give the shy girl with a heart-shaped face and long, chestnut braid a hug. “I’m so glad I could make it back in time.”
“Me too.” Samantha hugged her in return as if it was the last hug they would ever share. “Oh, Miss Bonnie, I’m so excited.”
“I’ll bet.” Bonnie held Samantha at arm’s length and studied her. “You look downright pretty, my dear.”
“I don’t need to look pretty to be an upstairs maid,” Samantha laughed. A second later, tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Miss Bonnie, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me.” She started to sniff and weep.
