The Rancher's Temporary Engagement
Page 13
Maggy cast a glance at the table where Lavina and her husband sat with her parents. “Are you two close?”
“Somewhat,” Vienna admitted. “Lavina is three years older than me. I did enjoy her company for about a year before she married and moved away.” She studied her plate as she added, “It wasn’t so easy living on the Druitt ranch once she was gone.”
Maggy could believe that. “Do you enjoy riding as much as your cousin does?”
“Not really. I like gardening and working with my hands.” Vienna’s expression blossomed as she spoke of what she loved doing. “I can ride, but it isn’t something I enjoy doing as much as other things. What about you? Do you enjoy riding?”
The recollection of racing Edward made Maggy smile. “Yes, very much.”
“Are there other things you enjoy, as well?”
Maggy pushed at the remaining food on her plate with her fork as she tried to think how best to word her answer. “I also like to...work out riddles...and solve puzzles.”
“That’s an unusual talent,” Vienna said.
She heard Edward cough as if covering a laugh. “Very unusual indeed.” He spoke low enough that Maggy was certain she alone heard him.
“So I’ve been told,” she replied, glancing at Edward. He coughed again and she hurried to smother her own laughter by taking another bite.
Feeling someone watching her, she looked up to find Howe scowling in her direction. Maggy met his surly look with a strong one of her own. She wouldn’t be intimidated by him or any other man ever again.
If only she could share some of that strength with Vienna...
She glanced at the young woman again and felt renewed determination rise inside her. As long as she was here, she would do all she could to help not only Edward but Vienna, too.
* * *
Edward led Maggy out the front door of the inn. The sun had set, leaving the sky a purplish blue. The dinner had gone well—except for the tense moment between Maggy and Howe. Edward had been upset by the other rancher’s condescending tone and words, but he’d been equally as angry at the others seated at their table who’d simply let Howe carry on in such a rude fashion.
“You and Vienna seem to get along well,” he said as they stepped off the porch.
Maggy smiled. “We do.” After a moment, she added in a subdued voice, “She reminds me a bit of myself at that age.”
“Now you’re jesting,” he said with a chuckle.
Her expression instantly changed from open to steely. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, because...” He stopped walking and glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “I don’t think two women could be more different. Vienna is shy and often timid. And you...” He waved a hand at her, trying to convey what seemed so obvious to him.
Maggy’s eyebrows rose haughtily. “I’m what, Edward?”
“You aren’t shy or timid,” he countered with a hint of annoyance. Surely she knew what he meant. “You’re strong and determined and you met Howe’s insolence with poise.”
He started forward, only to be tugged back when Maggy didn’t move. “You thought I handled his behavior with poise?” The uncertainty and hopefulness in her tone erased his irritation.
“Yes, Maggy, you did.” He covered her hand where it lay against his sleeve. “I couldn’t have been more proud.”
Her cheeks filled with an attractive blush. “Thank you...for saying so.” She began walking toward the buggy, pulling him along this time. “You’re right in a way about Vienna and me. I’m not like her—not now. But there was a time when I was far more like her than you may realize.”
“Really?” He cut a glance at her, still not able to imagine Maggy as anything close to shy or timid. Except... Moments of observation, which he hadn’t thought about for some time, floated through his mind. Times when she’d looked vulnerable or frightened, such as the first time he touched her hand. “Will you tell me why?”
Her pause felt heavy with unvoiced thoughts and possibly painful recollections. “Not yet. Maybe one of these days.”
He didn’t know how many more of these days they would have, but he sensed it was better not to point that out. Things felt comfortable and familiar between them tonight, and he didn’t want to disrupt that with more questions or reminders about their time together ending.
“Did you conclude anything new this evening?” he asked, when they stopped beside the buggy.
Maggy brightened as she did whenever she talked about investigating. He recalled what she’d shared with Vienna, about liking to work out riddles and solve puzzles, and smiled. Of course she hadn’t been able to tell the other young woman that she was a detective, but he’d thought her explanation amusing and fitting.
“I think we can safely rule out the Kitts,” she said quietly. “Both of them seem too caught up in romance and each other to do anything nefarious. I agree with your conclusion about the Prestons, as well. They’re naturally sullen about everything and everyone but with no particular vendettas or enemies.”
He nodded in agreement. “And the Howes?”
“If Howe is a coconspirator, I doubt that Vienna would know it. Even if she did, she wouldn’t share or question it.”
“Why not?”
Maggy peered at something in the distance. “Please just trust me on this one.”
“All right,” he said without hesitation. Over the twelve days that had passed since Maggy’s arrival at the ranch, he truly had come to trust her, her skills, and her judgment. He saw no reason to begin doubting any of those now.
He went to hand her up onto the seat, but she didn’t move. Instead she stood staring at the horse.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing with her free hand. “There’s something tucked into the horse’s bridle.”
The white slip of paper was familiar and had the power to make Edward’s jaw tighten. “I believe I can guess.”
Releasing her hand, he pulled the note from its perch. He unfolded the paper, already certain he’d find some ominous message written there.
“What does it say?” Maggy moved closer and peeked over his shoulder.
He didn’t recognize the handwriting, but the words were every bit as threatening as they’d been on the other notes.
When are you going take a hint, Brit? You aren’t wanted here. And if you don’t start heeding the warnings you’ve been given already, you risk not only your ranch and your horses but your fiancée, too.
“A new note,” Maggy declared.
The excitement in her voice grated on his darkening mood. “That isn’t something to celebrate, Maggy,” he said, turning to face her. “They’re trying to threaten you, too.”
“I know, but I’m not afraid.” Her blue eyes glowed with resolve. “And this is a significant clue, Edward.”
He fisted the note, even though he knew they’d need if for reference later. “How is it significant?”
“Because whoever placed it there arrived after we did or at least waited until we were inside the inn before leaving the note.” She paused as if waiting for him to say something, but Edward wasn’t sure how to reply. “If it was left by another rancher,” she continued when he remained silent, “and I firmly believe it was, then he must have come into dinner after you and I did.”
Edward rubbed at his chin with his other hand. “The only one who arrived after we did was... Howe.”
“Yes,” Maggy said with a smile.
Smiling wasn’t what he wanted to do right now. He wanted to find Howe and land a good punch to the arrogant rancher’s face. It had been years since Edward had tussled with his brothers, but he remembered enough that he felt certain he could hold his own.
“I’m going back in there and confronting him.” He fell back a step, the muscles in his jaw clenched tighter. “He already offended you once
. I won’t stand by and let him threaten you, too.”
The enthusiasm on her face drained away. “No, Edward, please don’t.” As if she feared her words wouldn’t be enough to stop him—and he wasn’t sure they would have been—she placed her hand against his chest, her blue eyes entreating him to stay. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me and my honor, but we don’t have solid proof.”
“But you just said—”
She hurried to add, “I know what I said and I stand by it. I firmly believe it was Howe who left the note. But we don’t want to reveal how much we know just yet. We’re much closer to solving the mystery with this clue, but we need evidence, not just accusations.”
He wanted to argue with her, and he still wanted to show Howe exactly what he thought of him by using a good right jab. But Edward knew deep down that Maggy was right. They needed hard facts.
“Fine.” He let his shoulders slump. “I won’t get into fisticuffs with Howe.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “You would get into fisticuffs for me?”
He sensed she meant it in a teasing way, but he couldn’t bring himself to jest about something he felt strongly about. “Yes, Maggy.” He placed his hand over hers where it still rested near his heart—just as it had the other day when they’d stumbled into each other. “I would.”
Her eyes widened as she regarded him. A longing to show her precisely how he felt about her—with a firm kiss—filled him to near distraction. But it wouldn’t be right. She wasn’t staying and he wasn’t sure there was much left of his heart to give to anyone.
“Let’s head home then,” he said after clearing his throat.
Maggy nodded, her earlier fervor replaced by somber determination. And a slight bit of disappointment? He shook his head as he helped her onto the seat. He was likely reading into things.
After they were both settled in the buggy and he drove away from the inn, he kept hearing her question repeat inside his head—you would get into fisticuffs for me?
He’d been honest when he’d told her that he would. It wasn’t solely about protecting her honor from boars like Howe, either. He would protect Maggy, too, as long as she would let him.
Chapter Eleven
Maggy had been at the ranch for almost four weeks now, and she could finally admit she didn’t mind attending services on Sundays. There were still long minutes when she found it hard to concentrate, but the same restless boy sat in front of them each week, and she entertained them both by winking at him whenever he turned around.
The pastor had also said something this morning that she’d been mulling over ever since. In his sermon, he’d told the congregation that God loved them and knew them by name. He’d quoted a scripture in Romans and reminded them they were each His child and that made them enough.
Maggy decided to look up the verse after church, but only when Edward was out talking with McCall. She didn’t want him to know yet that she’d been reading the Bible in short snatches the last couple weeks whenever she had a private moment. While she trusted Edward not to tease her about it, matters of faith and how much her father and Jeb had affected those still felt too private to share.
Tracing her finger beneath the words, she read the verse softly to herself. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.
She’d believed that as a child, before her mother’s death, but did she still? It was hard to imagine a loving Father who thought her good enough to be His child when her own father hadn’t. And neither had Jeb.
The pastor seemed so sure, though, and so had her mother. Even Edward, who’d lost a sister to death, believed in a loving God—Maggy could tell each time he prayed. So what helped them continue on in faith?
She lowered her gaze back to the open page of the Bible and decided to keep reading where she’d left off. There were other verses she read that she liked, but nothing else resonated with her until she reached the last two verses of the chapter.
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Her heart began to race but not in a frightening way. She read the words through a second time, then a third. If nothing could separate her from God’s love, including any other creature, then why had she felt abandoned by Him for so many years?
A flow of thoughts, quiet yet penetrating in truth, entered her mind. It’s because I stopped looking like Mama told me to do. I stopped searching for Him, stopped praying to Him. He didn’t move or change...or stop loving me. She blinked back the sudden blur of tears in her eyes. I was the one who stepped away.
The beauty and peace that accompanied her realization lasted a few moments more before the old doubts and insecurities resurfaced to blot them out. See, you are worthless—you turned your back on God. These weren’t words Jeb had spoken to her, but she heard them inside her head in his caustic voice anyway.
Fear pecked mercilessly at the harmony she’d just experienced, freezing her in place on the sofa and tightening her lungs. Would she ever truly be free of the dread, of the feelings of worthlessness...
A thought surged forward in her mind, a reminder of what she’d told Vienna the other week about being of worth, of being somebody. It was what the pastor had also confidently declared during his sermon. And while Maggy might have stepped away from God, that didn’t make her worthless. Regretful, yes, but not worthless.
A tear broke loose and slipped down her cheek. Maggy brushed it away, embarrassed, even though no one was in the room. That was another travesty from her experiences with her father and Jeb. She could not bear to let anyone see her cry—tears had been a sign of weakness to them. And she’d wanted to be strong. To prove to them, to everyone, that she wasn’t weak.
“Is that what I’m doing?” she murmured out loud.
Was she trying to prove something to two men who weren’t even living on this earth anymore?
Maybe...in part.
She did love her job as a detective, though, and she was skilled at it. Did God see that? No sooner had she thought the question, then a feeling of warmth spread through her. It called to her memory an experience from her girlhood. She’d been caught outside in a rainstorm and was soaking wet when she arrived home. Her mother had her change into dry clothes before wrapping Maggy in a blanket and holding her on her lap. She’d felt cocooned in warmth and love that day. That was how she felt now.
After ensuring the house still echoed with quiet, she clasped her hands together and shut her eyes. “Heavenly Father...” It surprised her how easily she began her prayer, as if she hadn’t stopped petitioning Him years ago. “Thank You for helping me see things more clearly. I’m sorry for stepping away. There’s a lot I still don’t understand, but I want to learn. I’m grateful for this job and for the friends I’ve made.” She thought of Edward, Vienna and Mrs. Harvey, and even the nameless boy at church. “Please bless them. And bless me and Edward to solve his case. In the name of Thy Son. Amen.”
Maggy whipped her chin up, half expecting someone to be watching. There was no one in the open doorway, though, and she was still alone in the parlor. A relieved chuckle escaped her lips as she stood and put the Bible back in its designated spot.
She felt lighter and stronger and clearer in thought than she had in a long time. She wasn’t alone—and that knowledge in and of itself made her want to sing.
Smiling to herself, she strode outside into the sunshine. She’d heard Edward pray over his case, but after today, he wouldn’t be the only one doing so.
* * *
The following afternoon Maggy climbed onto the buggy seat to drive herself to another tea meeting, while Edward held the horse he’d hitched to the vehicle. “I’ll be
back in a few hours.”
“No rush,” he said. “I know how riveting these tea meetings can be.” His gray eyes were lit with humor.
This would be her fourth tea meeting with the wives’ club. She’d also attended an additional meeting at the inn the week before for those women assigned to decorate the city hall building for the upcoming summer ball. To Maggy’s relief, Vienna had also been assigned to the decorating committee, along with Matilda Kitt, whom Maggy had come to enjoy talking with, as well.
“Very funny,” she remarked, shaking her head in feigned annoyance. In truth, she loved bantering with Edward. And talking with him. And the way his gray eyes darkened with protectiveness whenever they talked about that last threatening note. She had no doubt he would’ve marched back into the inn that night two weeks ago and defended her against Howe if she hadn’t persuaded him to stop. “Thanks for hitching up the horse.”
“You’re welcome.” He let go of the animal’s bridle and stepped back. “See you in a few hours.”
She tapped the horse with the reins and waved to Edward as she drove past. No further action had been taken against the ranch since that last menacing note. And while Maggy itched to find more clues to solve the case and secure her promotion, she hadn’t minded the respite, either. There were moments—when she was reading in the parlor with Edward seated nearby, outlining his equestrian book, or Mrs. Harvey let her help with the cooking, or she, Vienna and Matilda got to talking—when she felt as if she really was Edward’s fiancée and not simply on a mission.
Guiding the horse and buggy down the drive and beneath the Running W’s arch, she realized how familiar and pleasant the sprawling land and tidy buildings had become to her. It would take time to adjust to living back in a city again, once she left here. The thought of leaving—Edward, the ranch and everything behind—tightened her throat with emotion, and she hurried to clear it away with a cough. She wasn’t finished here yet, so there was no need to prematurely dwell on the inevitable goodbyes.
The buggy wheels rattled over the stones of the bridge as Maggy drove over it. The sunshine had won out over the earlier cloudy skies, making her grateful for her hat. Though it was one of her new ones, it provided considerably more shade than the one she had worn when she’d traveled here.