The Engagement Charade

by Karen Kirst

  “Um, sure, William. I’ll just drop this cider off with my folks first.”

  William grinned. “I’ll walk with you.”

  Alexander watched them leave. The lad chattered and gestured, eliciting laughter from his dance partner. Sally’s disappointment over Ben would soon fade, he was certain.

  His spirits somewhat lighter, he purchased the drinks he’d promised and spent the next half hour listening to Margaret regale Ellie with tales from the past. Afterward, they escorted Ellie home and returned to the café. He bid his sister good-night.

  She paused in the entrance to her room. “Alex?”

  “Yes?”

  “Who were those people you and Ellie were avoiding?”

  “You noticed that?”

  “Are they the reason you concocted this scheme?”

  He sighed, hating to see the worry in her eyes. “Her in-laws’ goal is to control her and ultimately steal the affections of their grandchild.”

  “That’s horrible.” Her fingers dug into the doorjamb. “I’m glad she has you.”

  “See to it that you don’t concoct silly daydreams, sis. This arrangement of ours is temporary. Ellie and I are in agreement on this.”

  “Would it be so terrible to have someone special in your life again?” she queried earnestly.

  That was the wrinkle... Ellie was special. One of a kind. After spending time with her and getting to know her, he was becoming attached. A foolish mistake.

  “I had my chance.”

  “You act as if you don’t deserve to be happy again.”

  “I don’t,” he scoffed.

  “But—”

  “Good night, Margaret.”

  Spinning on his heel, he retreated to his bedroom, not about to argue the matter.

  * * *

  Ellie was thrilled to see Sally the next morning. Flo shared in her happiness. Sally was part of the Plum Café family, and her absence, however brief, had been difficult in many ways. Alexander had informed Ellie that after today, she was to resume her former schedule. Unwilling to mar his good mood, she chose to delay that particular battle.

  Margaret didn’t make an appearance until midmorning. She descended the stairs in a casual state, her muslin dress cut in simple lines and her sleek raven hair pulled back in a low bun.

  “Good morning.” Ellie looked up from the pie dough she was rolling out. “You’re looking refreshed.”

  “Can you believe the time? I’m so embarrassed. I promise this isn’t typical. I’m no slugabed.”

  “You deserved to sleep in after your long journey.” Dusting the flour from her hands, Ellie retrieved the plate from the warming box and set it on the opposite table. “I promised Alexander I’d see you fed. Do you prefer coffee or tea?”

  Joining her at the stoves, Margaret plucked a kettle from the rear. “Tea. And I’ll prepare it myself.” She cocked her head. “Alex isn’t here?”

  Ellie gathered the tea tin, sugar and milk. “He left as soon as the morning session was over. Said our stores of meat are getting low, so he went hunting.”

  “I see.”

  Margaret had obviously expected to spend time with her brother. Ellie wondered why he’d chosen to leave but hadn’t pressed. She’d sensed he needed a hefty dose of solitude.

  “Don’t worry, he won’t be gone the entire day. In the meantime, you could browse the shops.” She chose a teacup and saucer painted with lavender sprigs. “There aren’t many. However, the ones we do have offer quality merchandise.”

  Waiting for the water to boil, Margaret crossed her arms and nodded in consideration. “On the way in, we passed a photography studio. I was surprised to see one in a town this size.”

  “Kate O’Malley operates that. Originally from New York, she’s the wife of a local furniture-maker, Josh O’Malley. I haven’t personally had any photographs taken, but she has a good reputation.”

  “Alex looks so different in his business attire. I wonder if he’d agree to have his portrait done so I can show Thomas and the others.”

  “I don’t see why not.” Ellie returned to her pie dough and the small mound of pumpkins waiting to be sliced.

  “Seeing as he refuses to come home, even for a visit, I suppose a portrait is the next best thing.”

  “I’m sorry, Margaret. I know how much having him at your wedding means to you.”

  Margaret carried her teacup across the room, careful not to spill it. Settling in a chair, she ran her fingers over the silverware. “I knew he probably wouldn’t agree. Texas holds too many painful memories for him.” Clouds passed over her face, and her eyes were haunted by memories, the same memories that tormented Alexander. “A part of me feared coming here and seeing him. He left home a broken man, and his correspondence in the intervening years didn’t inspire hope that he’d healed. I’m still a bit dazed by what I’ve found. He’s almost completely restored to the Alex I know and love.” She swallowed hard. “I believe I can thank you for that.”

  * * *

  Her rolling pin ceased rotating. “Me?”

  “I realize I don’t know much about you. Nor am I privy to the exact nature of your relationship with my brother. However, I’m deeply grateful.”

  “Margaret, I can’t take the credit. Alexander has had to work through his grief in his own way. I simply happened to be around when he started taking interest in life again.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said gently, “and I don’t think you do, either.”

  Troubled, Ellie left her dough and washed her hands. “I wonder what’s been keeping Flo? She went to fetch a couple jars of pickled okra to serve with the noon meal. I’ll check on her.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you by my plain speaking.”

  “You didn’t.” Nodding to her untouched plate, she said, “Enjoy your meal.”

  Once outside, Ellie tried to push the conversation out of her head. Of course she wasn’t responsible for Alexander’s renewed interest in his café and the people in his life. The fact that their relationship had undergone changes—from long-suffering boss and pushy employee to friends—at around the same time was a coincidence.

  Friends who kissed each other? a pesky voice pressed.

  Resolutely not reliving those fleeting, wondrous moments in his arms, Ellie entered the alley between the café and post office, to the side of the building beneath which there was a cellar built into the ground. While the terrain in this area didn’t allow for many root cellars, the café’s former owner, Mrs. Greene, had insisted upon having one. Fortunately, this end of Main Street was level and Mrs. Greene got her wish. It was a nice convenience, especially considering there wasn’t a stream close enough to support a spring house.

  The double slat doors to the cellar were propped open. Ellie peered inside. All she could see were the earth walls and narrow steps descending into darkness.

  “Flo? Are you down there?”

  Silence greeted her. Strange. Glancing about, she saw no sign of the older woman. On the far end of the alley, pedestrians along the boardwalk were few and far between. She studied the cellar again. What if Flo had swooned? She’d complained of a headache that morning.

  Well, there was nothing for it. Ellie held tight to the railing as she awkwardly maneuvered the stairs. A cobweb snagged in her hair, and with a shudder, she batted it away.

  “Hope there wasn’t a spider connected to that web,” she muttered.

  She called for Flo again and got no response. At the bottom of the steps, she advanced into the cellar, nose wrinkling at the still, musty air. Crude shelving crowded with jars of preserved fruits and vegetables lined both walls. Ellie wasn’t claustrophobic, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed dark, tight spaces. Edging deeper into the cellar, she peered around the corner to the wardrobe-sized spot where
barrels were stored.

  Her fellow employee wasn’t down here. She must’ve gotten hailed by a friend and sidetracked from her task.

  Ellie was turning around when the cellar doors slapped closed and the slide of the latch scratched over wood.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She froze. Complete and utter darkness entombed her.

  Seconds passed as her mind tried to sort what had just happened. A rustling in the corner spurred her forward. Arms stretched straight in front of her, she shuffled in the direction of the stairs. Not being able to see anything was unnerving. Ellie refused to dwell on the many creepy critters who called this hole in the ground home.

  “Hello?” she shouted. “Is anyone out there?”

  By the time she located the stairs, her heart was pounding, her neck was damp with sweat and her stomach muscles were stretched tight. The baby flipped and kicked. A response to her heightened emotions, perhaps?

  She wanted to dash up to the opening but didn’t dare. Being trapped alone was one thing, being injured with no one the wiser was quite another. Forcing herself to go slow, she encountered multiple rough places on the railing and would likely have splinters to show for her misadventure.

  Had Flo returned and, thinking the cellar empty, closed the doors? Where then were the okra jars? Ellie didn’t recall seeing any on the ground outside, and it didn’t make sense that she’d carry an armful to visit with a friend.

  Reaching the top at last, she pounded on the sturdy wood with one fist while steadying herself with the other. No amount of pounding or hollering yielded results. The longer she stood there, the harder it was to remain calm. The thought that this had been a purposeful act nagged at her. But who would do such a thing? A group of kids out for a laugh? Or one of Nolan’s family members?

  She dismissed Ralph immediately. He was sympathetic to her plight. Howard wasn’t a likely culprit, either, which left Gladys and Nadine. Those two wouldn’t think twice about pulling a prank such as this.

  The rustling in the corner sounded again. Closer this time. Images of rats the size of her boot bombarded her. Her scalp prickled. Ellie brushed her hand over her neck, certain she’d encounter an insect.

  Her legs were growing tired trying to balance on the thin step. Her stomach felt hard and heavy.

  She started beating at the doors, taking turns with her fists as they were growing sore.

  Margaret would come looking for her, right? How long would she linger over her breakfast? Maybe she’d sit there and drink the entire kettle’s worth of tea. Maybe Sally had come in the kitchen and engaged her in a lengthy conversation about Texas and her upcoming wedding.

  They could talk for hours.

  “Can anyone hear me?” she yelled again, her throat scratchy. “Why can’t you hear me?” A sob snatched her voice away.

  Her knees threatened to give out. Carefully, slowly, she returned to the base, sank onto the bottom step and blanked her mind to the possibility of snakes in addition to every other creature she’d imagined. She concentrated on good things, like the huskiness of Alexander’s laugh and the endless blue of his eyes when he’d been about to kiss her.

  Ellie wouldn’t give in to the fear. If the Jamesons were indeed behind this, she wasn’t about to let her enemy succeed in their purpose.

  * * *

  He’d forgotten a key item in his quest for venison—ammunition. Who in their right mind took weapons without ammunition? Heaving a sigh, Alexander opened the door and halted on the threshold. The scene in his kitchen was like something out of a tragic play.

  His heart climbed into his throat as he noted the very real fright in his sister’s eyes. Sally’s complexion matched their new snow-white aprons. Flo’s mouth was thinned into a barely-there line. And at the center of the group was the woman who’d dominated his thoughts for weeks.

  Seated at the table closest to the stairs, Ellie’s hair was in disarray and her eyes huge in her face. Flo was bent over her, using tweezers on her palm. He felt her wince to the tips of his toes.

  He closed the door with more force than necessary. “What’s happened?”

  “Someone played a rotten trick on Ellie,” Flo answered, her jaw tight.

  Wringing her hands, Margaret met him in the middle of the room. “She was locked in the cellar, Alex.”

  He could literally feel the anger building inside him like a volcano ready to explode. His gaze locked on Ellie, he gritted, “For how long?”

  “About thirty minutes,” Margaret said, distraught. “I was eating breakfast and became engrossed in the newspaper. I lost track of time. I should’ve checked on her when she didn’t immediately return.”

  “It’s not your fault, Margaret.” Ellie finally spoke up.

  His stomach dropped to his toes. Her voice had a husky quality, which meant she’d yelled for quite some time in order to get someone’s attention. Bypassing Margaret, he walked over and looked down at her hands. One was still in Flo’s grasp, the other curled atop the table. They were bruised in places, pink and swollen in others. A single knuckle was busted.

  His blood thundered in his ears.

  “Alex.”

  He was going to ride to that cove and—

  “Alex, look at me.”

  Ellie’s soft demand drew his gaze to her face, somber but untouched.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your hands are a mess.” He took in the bottle of salve and gauze and the splinters Flo had already removed. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “No. The bruises will fade. I’m rattled more than anything.”

  Flo scowled. “This was planned, boss, I’m sure of it. I was about to go in the cellar when a pair of boys rushed up, begging for my help in catching their dog. They rolled out this sorry story designed to pull on my heartstrings. We searched up and down Main Street and along the riverbanks. Never did see a dog. When I came back, the cellar was locked up tight.”

  Margaret touched his sleeve. “Do you think it could be the work of her in-laws?”

  Flo pulled the tweezers away and lifted her head, and he could see her trying to work out the puzzle.

  Sally’s brows crashed together. “Why would they want to hurt Ellie?”

  Ellie sighed and briefly explained their strained relations, not making mention of the engagement. “They wouldn’t hurt me, but they’re not above trying to intimidate me.”

  “Now that you know,” Alexander said, “you can be on the lookout for these people. I don’t want them anywhere near Ellie.”

  Sally’s chin jutted. “You can count on us, Mr. Copeland.”

  “I won’t be duped a second time,” Flo added.

  “Thank you. Now, I’d like a moment alone with Ellie.” He held out his hand for the tweezers. “I’ll finish up. Sally, make a sign and hang it on the door. We’re closing for the rest of the day.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Consternation tugged at Ellie’s features as he dragged a chair close to her side. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I don’t want you cooking today.”

  “But I’ve already started pies. They’ll go to waste.”

  Margaret, who’d lingered nearby while the others disappeared into the dining room, offered her assistance.

  Alexander twisted on the seat. “Since when do you know how to bake pies?”

  Propping her hands on her hips, she sent him a long-suffering look. “Since I convinced Rosa to teach me. Lowell will expect to eat decent meals.”

  “Did she teach you how to make buñuelos?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. If you’re nice to me, I’ll make you a batch tomorrow.”

  “I’m always nice to you, Margaret.” He jerked his head toward the stairs. “Now go upstairs and ready a place for Ellie to lie down.” At he
r arched brow, he tacked on, “Please.”

  Her former anxiety no longer visible, she grinned. “My pleasure.”

  When she’d gone, he gently took hold of Ellie’s ravaged hand.

  “I don’t recall agreeing to a nap.”

  He lifted his head to meet her steady gaze. “After your ordeal, resting for a few hours would do you and the baby good.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep.”

  “Then read a book. I have plenty you can choose from.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, “Indulge me, please, Ellie. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight.”

  She closed her mouth and nodded. The urge to hold her seized him. Fighting it, he turned his attention to his task. He worked with care to remove the rest of the splinters and apply salve to her busted knuckle. As he pictured her in that dark, dank hole, scared and alone, his anger burned beneath the surface.

  “We have to tell Shane, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want you walking to and from June’s unescorted. I’ll accompany you.”

  “I’m sure you wish Ben and the others hadn’t been so helpful during your illness. Or that they’d chosen another winner of the town-wide cooking contest.”

  Alexander finished wrapping her hand in gauze. “Never.” One by one, he brought each of her hands to his mouth and brushed gentle kisses there. Tenderness flooded his hollowed-out heart, along with stronger, intense emotions he refused to examine. “My life is better because of you, Ellie.”

  Looking dazed, she blinked. “I’ve been nothing but a burden to you.”

  “You saved my café.”

  You saved me.

  The thought came unbidden. Shying away from the significance of those three words, he pushed to his feet. “Margaret will be finishing up. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  With a lingering look full of questions, Ellie stood. Together, they proceeded to his quarters. She hadn’t seen his private rooms before and made no effort to hide her curiosity. The previous owner had taken everything that gave a place personality—family portraits and paintings, figurines and knitted blankets—and left only the furniture and flowered curtains. Alexander caught her eyeing them.