Forever Angels

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  "Harumph," Doc Calder said. "I don't think you're going to have to worry about that. I'll probably have to wade through every eligible male in town to claim a dance with you."

  They heard the front door of the office open and Stone turned away abruptly. "That's probably Flower," he said as he strode out of the room.

  Tess glanced away from the door in time to see a worried look on Doc Calder's face as he stared after Stone.

  "Is something wrong, Doctor?" she asked. "Stone seems fully recovered from the snakebite. Isn't he?"

  "It's not that, Tess. He's fine. It's...look, Tess. Stone hasn't been in town for a while, and there's been some changes he ought to be aware of. I brought him out a newspaper one day, but I don't think he took time to read it. He laid it on the porch while I looked at his leg, and I saw that darned dog carrying it off as I left."

  "So that's how that paper got scattered all over the barn," Tess said. "Flower gathered it up and we put it in the kindling box. It was pretty well chewed up."

  "Well, I should have talked to him about it. But he was in such a damned surly mood...."

  Flower came through the door, with Stone behind her. She hurried over to the examining table where Tess lay, her eyes twinkling with delight.

  "Is your cast off?" she asked. "Oh, it is. Good. Pa's got a present for you."

  Stone handed her the brown paper wrapped package and tucked his hands into his pockets. "Flower picked them out," he said with a shrug. "Hope you like them."

  Tess untied the string and laid the paper back to reveal a pair of ivory slippers, almost the same shade as her dress. "They're beautiful," she said with a brilliant smile aimed at Stone. "Thank you so much."

  The door on the outer office slammed open and a voice called, "Doc! Doc Calder! You here? Harry's gone and broke his arm!"

  "Dang it," Doc grumbled. "You'd think they could behave themselves for one day and let me enjoy the social, too." Muttering under his breath, Doc left the room.

  "We better get out of the way," Tess said as she swung her legs from the table.

  "Try your slippers on first," Stone demanded. He picked up one and knelt to put it on Tess's foot. The dainty slipper fit perfectly, and he leaned back on his heels, a satisfied smile on his face.

  "It feels nice, Stone," Tess said. "But I better wear my tennies until the dancing starts. I brought my other one with me."

  Tess handed him the Reebok she hadn't worn since she landed in Oklahoma and Stone sighed in compliance as he removed the slipper. His thumb slid across her soft instep and Tess giggled.

  "Don't," she said. "You know I'm ticklish."

  Doc Calder appeared at the door. "Sorry, folks. But I need the table for Harry."

  Stone held the Reebok out and Tess wiggled her foot into it, allowing him to tie the laces. She slid from the table and took a tentative step or two, while Stone stood ready to steady her if she wavered.

  "Hum. I think it's going to be fine," Tess murmured. "Come on. We better get out of Doc's way."

  Outside the doctor's office, Tess paused as Stone took her elbow to lead her to the wagon. "Would you mind if I looked around town for an hour or so, Stone? I can walk out to the church in a while."

  "I guess Flower could stay with you. I probably need to get out there and see if they need some help setting up tables or something."

  "Flower wants to visit with her friends. I'll be perfectly all right for pity sakes. I just want to do a little window shopping."

  "Well, don't go around the saloons," Stone ordered. "You stay in this end of town."

  "Yes sir, boss." Tess snapped him a perky salute, and Stone couldn't suppress his grin.

  "Yeah, sure," he muttered. "Boss. Huh." He gallantly turned to Flower and took her arm. "I guess I'll just escort this pretty miss to the picnic instead."

  Flower dropped him a slight curtsy before she took his extended arm and moved toward the wagon. "Just until Tess comes out, Pa," she agreed. "And you better not bid on my picnic dinner. It's the one with the pink ribbon that matches my dress."

  "And just who do you have in mind to share that supper with?" Stone asked with a frown after he lifted Flower onto the wagon seat.

  Tess gave Flower a wave and hurried down the walkway toward where they had passed the general store on their drive to the doctor's office. She hoped whichever young man Flower had in mind had the courage to stand up to the glower on Stone's face as he bid on Flower's picnic dinner. She bit back a laugh. And she bet that Stone and Rain would share her own basket within a few feet of whoever that lucky young man turned out to be.

  Inside the store, Tess subdued her curiosity at the jumble of goods lining the shelves and floor. Only small paths led between the multitude of objects, which included everything from new saddles and harness to a shelf of bonnets and even a rod filled with dresses in one corner. She made her way to the counter where a huge cash register sat, and peered through the glass top protecting a few of the more expensive items the store proprietor stocked.

  "Can I help you, Miss?"

  Tess glanced up to see a tall, lanky man come in from the rear of the store, wiping his hands on a stained apron.

  "I don't know," Tess replied. She glanced down again through the dusty counter glass. "I see you stock some jewelry. I was wondering if you also buy pieces that women no longer have a use for."

  "Sometimes," the storekeeper told her. "Depends on what you have you want to get rid of. By the way, I'm Sid. Don't remember seeing you around here before."

  "Tess Foster," Tess responded as she held out her hand. The storekeeper took it in a firm grasp and Tess liked the honest look in his eyes and the fact that he dropped her hand as soon as he squeezed it once. His red hair reminded her of Freddy, and for a second she found herself wondering if Freddy had gotten in trouble when she came up missing on the mountain.

  Tess shook the thought aside and pulled the diamond ring from the reticule Flower had loaned her. She'd already made up her mind not to feel guilty about selling the ring Robert had given her. After all, it wasn't a family heirloom or anything. Robert had commissioned it from Tiffany's.

  The storekeeper picked up a jewelry glass to study the ring stones and whistled under his breath. "Well, now, Miss Foster, I'm afraid I don't do a large enough business here to offer you what this is worth. I might could give you a little something on it and take it on consignment. Then if someone buys it, we could settle up."

  "How much would you ask for it?"

  "It's gotta be worth at least a thousand," he said. "Them small stones're emeralds, you know. Not worth as much as that diamond. Ain't never seen one that big — even the one the banker's wife's so proud of. And I'll bet she might buy this, but she's gone to Oklahoma City to visit her sister for a few days. Soon as she gets back and sets her eyes on this, though, her husband won't have no rest until she gets it."

  Tess didn't know exactly how much Robert had paid for the ring, but she had seen a similar one at Tiffany's for over fifteen thousand dollars. She had to remember, though, that money was worth a lot more in this time period. It probably took the storekeeper several years to make even a thousand dollars.

  "I could go a hundred on it now," the storekeeper mused. "Not today, though. Have to wait until the bank's open again on Monday and transfer it to your account. You got one set up at the bank?"

  "No. Could you take care of that for me, too? I'm staying with Mr. Chisum, and we'll be going back to the ranch after the dance. In fact, why don't you just deposit the money in Stone's account? I'll be able to get it if I need it. I would like to have a few dollars today, though, if it's convenient."

  The storekeeper pushed a button on the cash register and the bottom drawer flew open with a clang. He studied the drawer for a moment, then looked up at Tess. "Probably could let you have thirty dollars. You want it in cash or credit?"

  "How about ten in credit and twenty cash?" Tess replied with a smile.

  After Sid nodded his agreement, Tess picked out a bonn
et for Flower that cost two dollars and a new hunting knife for Rain that was slightly less. It took her longer to decide on Stone's gift, but she finally chose a turquoise studed bolo tie, which Sid informed her had been handmade by an old Indian man, who sold his creations through the store. It seemed a bargain at five dollars, and she loved the intricate silver design that held the turquoise in place.

  She expended the remainder of her credit on a small bottle of perfume for herself, and dabbed a drop behind each ear before Sid tied her purchases up and handed them to her, along with a twenty dollar gold piece.

  "Thank you so much," Tess murmured.

  "Now you come see me the next time you get in town," Sid said. "I'm almost sure that ring will be sold by then."

  "Just put the money in Stone's account if it's necessary," Tess informed him.

  Tess left the store, holding her purchases by the string Sid had wrapped around them, and headed across the street. She hoped the newspaper office hadn't closed on Saturday. Surely not. They would want someone to cover the social and write it up.

  Tess glanced at the next window beside the newspaper office as she climbed the two steps to the walkway on the other side of the street, and stopped to study the gilt letters on the pane. A law office. Hum. The shade was drawn, though — the attorney was probably at the social.

  A second later she pushed open the door to the newspaper office and a small, gray-haired woman looked up from the desk where she sat.

  "Can I help you?" the woman asked.

  "I'd like to look at some of your back issues, if I could," Tess explained.

  "Of course. Come on back and I'll show you where they are."

  ***

  Chapter 22

  Tess collapsed on one of the benches lining the wall and waved off the friendly young cowboy's offer to fetch her a glass of punch after their dance. Instead, she'd been thinking of sneaking out to the wagon and snitching a piece of leftover chicken from the picnic basket. Though she had been so stuffed after the mid-afternoon feast that she'd had to loosen her remodeled belt a notch, she now felt like she could eat twice as much all over again.

  Must be the unaccustomed exercise, she guessed, though she surely enjoyed every dance — especially the old-fashioned hill dances she had loved back in West Virginia. A time or two she had stumbled and disorganized a square of eight. However her partners good-naturedly reformed their square and set off together. Soon her ears harkened once again to the square dance caller's cadence, and she flipped her skirt and doe-see-doe'd with the best of the women.

  She glanced across the room and saw several men setting up a row of tables. Good. The people were finally getting ready for the evening meal Flower had told her their leftovers would contribute to. Her stomach had evidently adjusted to the three full meals a day she and Flower prepared, since for the last hour it had been grumbling off and on, reminding her it was well past the usual supper hour.

  Oh, no! Tess groaned under her breath.

  Tillie Peterson was making her way through the crowd, her corseted bosom preceding the rest of her, parting the sea of bodies like the prow of a battleship. Indeed, she looked sort of like a battleship in her gray silk gown. No mistaking her objective — those pale eyes gazing out from the folds of flesh in her face were centered on Tess.

  Tess straightened in her chair and forced a smile to her lips. She'd be darned if she'd give in to the impulse to pull her ivory gown up an inch over her breasts.

  "Hello, Tillie," Tess greeted. "I understand your Ladies' Guild planned this social. I've been wanting to tell you how much I'm enjoying it."

  "Why, thank you, Tess. I'll be sure and pass your kind words on to the other ladies. I'm glad to see that your ankle's healed. You don't seem to have missed a dance this evening."

  For just a second, Tess thought she caught a hint of hurt in Tillie's voice and the surge of sympathy for the chubby woman surprised her. She had noticed that Tillie stood with the same group of women against the wall during most of the dances. Once she had seen Tillie dancing with an elderly man, though. And wonder of wonders, after the first dance of the evening — the only one Tess had shared with Stone — Stone had crossed the room after he left Tess and led Tillie onto the floor.

  "I...um...I hope you truly are enjoying yourself, Tess," Tillie said as Tess fumbled in her mind for something else to say. "Uh...no one has...uh...."

  "To be truthful," Tess admitted, "a couple of the women sort of sniffed and pulled their skirts aside when I came too near. I assume they're part of the group scandalized because I'm staying out at Stone's, instead of agreeing to move into the boarding house here in town."

  Tillie's reaction surprised Tess further. She wrung her pudgy hands and and murmured a quiet "oh, dear," in a soft voice.

  But Tillie seemed to think better of pursuing the bent their conversation was taking.

  "That is a very lovely gown," she said. "Did you make it?"

  "No. Well, sort of," Tess replied. "Rose Brown made the initial dress. I altered it a tad."

  "Oh, then you sew!" Tillie said eagerly. "I was wondering when I saw your dress. I never learned. When I was growing up in Texas, there was always plenty of money for dressmakers. Now, though — out here...well, Rose is the only person those of us who can't sew for themselves has to make our clothing."

  "Surely you can order through a catalog or something. And I saw some dresses on a rack at the general store."

  "Nothing ever fits right," Tillie said with a sigh. "Rose made this gown for me. I did have something a little more feminine in mind, but Rose convinced me that I'd only be emphasizing my larger figure. I didn't used to have that worry, you know. My dressmaker in Texas always said that I was a delight to fit."

  Tess eyed the gray gown critically. "There are a few things you could do, Tillie. For one thing, that color does absolutely nothing for you. Have you thought about maybe a soft violet? Your eyes have a touch of violet in the blue, and a gown that color would bring it out."

  "I used to love wearing violet," Tillie said. "But surely at my age...."

  "And what's that? Thirty?"

  "Thirty-two. And I've been married and widowed. After all, propriety says I should dress my status in life."

  "Propriety be damned," Tess said, feeling a stirring of liking for Tillie when the other woman giggled, then quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard Tess's language.

  "And," Tess continued, "those sleeves look awfully tight under your arms. I would think a looser fit in your bodice would be much more comfortable. A vee neckline, too, would be sort of...well, enticing. Different contours in a gown de-empathize things we women aren't completely satisfied with in our figures."

  "I read once in a fashion magazine that horizontal stripes sometimes flatter larger figures."

  "They do — not loud stripes, though."

  "Darn it, I wouldn't have to worry about trying to look good if I could just lose this extra weight," Tillie said in a forlorn voice. "I wish I knew what to do about it. I guess it comes with age."

  "Have you tried strictly limiting yourself to your three meals a day — no snacks and no desserts? And exercising? Walking's best at first, until you build up your stamina. Eventually you can work up into jogging. I always ran at least five miles every morning before I hurt my ankle."

  "Ran? Oh, my. What would people in town say if they saw me? Oh, I couldn't."

  "Seems to me it's none of their business, Tillie. And when they see the beautiful woman emerging that's hidden now beneath your excess weight, I'll bet you'll have a horde of women asking for your secret."

  "Do you really think so?" Tillie asked in a voice filled with wonder.

  "It won't happen overnight," Tess responded with a laugh. "Remember, it took you several years to put on that weight. It might take as long as a year for you to lose it. But think how much better you'll feel about yourself then."

  "I'll try it." Tillie's eyes took on a determined glint. "If I need to ask your advice from time to
time on how I'm doing, will that be all right, Tess?"

  "Of course."

  Tillie started to turn away, then stopped.

  "Thank you, Tess. I...I want to say one more thing. I'm president of the Ladies' Guild this year, but it's just because we rotate among ourselves. Being president doesn't mean you're the one who makes decisions in the Guild. It just means you're the one elected to carry out the decisions voted on, whether you agree with them or not. Propriety... at times, yes, propriety should be damned."

  With a rustle of yards of gray silk, Tillie swept away through the crowd again, leaving Tess to stare after her in consternation. Her final words could mean several things, and Tess wasn't about to let down her guard completely against Tillie Peterson. The other woman might show a spurt of independence now, but once back in the folds of the Guild, she would be expected to follow the rest of the sheep of the membership.

  She did miss the companionship of other women, though, Tess admitted to herself. A shared cup of coffee while they hashed over the past weekend's activities. A women-only night now and then at someone's apartment, complete with mud treatments for their faces and giggling sessions in front of the mirror as they tried out various hair styles. A good gossip over a bottle or two of wine — who's seeing who, and how on earth are we ever going to find a decent man among the bunch of losers asking us out.

  She'd missed that when she became engaged to Robert. Every free moment she could spare from her spiraling career path was spent with her fiance, attending social functions with the New York elite — and a lot of moments she really couldn't spare, too.

  But despite Tillie's tentative thrust of friendship, Tess couldn't bring herself to believe that she would find much in common with Clover Valley's women. They had already labeled her Stone's mistress.

  Her eyes searched the room for Stone until she saw him enter the schoolhouse door, with Rose clinging to his arm. The picnic basket he carried belonged to Rose — the same one Rose had brought with her from her cabin. Tess narrowed her eyes when the blonde pretended to stumble on an uneven spot on the pine floor and clung even tighter to Stone's arm as she giggled and looked up at Stone with fluttering eyelashes.