Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02]

by Harvest Moon

  “Mr. David Alexander?” the saleslady asked.

  “Yes,” Tessa answered.

  “You can get him one of each if you like,” she confided, “but his favorite flavor is peppermint.” She tapped the pencil against the jar full of peppermint sticks, then lifted the lid as Coalie reached in and pulled out a handful of candy.

  The older woman introduced herself as she handed Tessa a paper bag. “I’m Lorna Taylor. I’m a friend of Mr. Alexander’s. You must be visiting the ranch?”

  “No, ma’am.” Tessa shook her head. She didn’t look up, but busied herself stuffing with the candy into the brown sack.

  “Oh, well, excuse my prying. I’m pleased to meet you anyway, Miss…?”

  “Roarke,” Tessa said. “Tessa Roarke. I’m pleased to meet you, too. And this is Coalie.” She put her arm around Coalie’s shoulders and pulled him forward a bit to greet the nice lady.

  “I’ve seen you before.” Lorna peered through her glasses at Coalie. “You were in here yesterday shopping with Mr. Alexander.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Coalie confirmed, pleased she’d remembered.

  Lorna drew in a breath. “Then you must be…” She looked at Tessa, then toward the ladies’ corner where Mrs. Jeffers gossiped with the women. She took Tessa by the arm and steered her in the opposite direction, away from the conversation. “Never mind.” She smiled brightly at Tessa and Coalie as she reached into her apron pocket for the pad and pencil. “Now, my dears, what can I get for you?”

  “Flour, sugar, coffee.” Tessa reeled off the necessary items.

  Lorna wrote it all down. “Ten pounds of flour, ten pounds of sugar, five pounds of coffee…”

  “And canned goods.” Tessa glanced at Coalie. “And maybe some bacon and ham.”

  “Don’t forget tea,” Coalie reminded her.

  ‘Tea.” Tessa moved away from Lorna toward the display of teas in the ladies’ corner. “Do you have East India tea? I don’t much care for coffee.”

  “We’ll save the tea for last,” Lorna said hurriedly. “Now, what else?” she asked, steering Tessa back.

  “Horsemeat.” Tessa started to explain, but Lorna interrupted.

  “I know,” she whispered conspiratorially. “For the cat.”

  “Lorna!” A small, frail-looking woman in a day dress of dark blue wool trimmed in black velvet excused herself from the group of admiring women and called to the saleslady once again. “Lorna, what else did Mr. Alexander buy yesterday for that creature from the Satin Slipper?” She slipped away from the women to get a better view of her employee. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were waiting on a customer.” She glanced at Tessa as she apologized for the interruption, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I won’t keep you, Lorna. I can see you’re busy, but I was telling Mrs. Riner about Mr. Alexander’s hasty visit yesterday afternoon. I was warning her not to be too shocked when that murderess appears in court wearing one of the dresses she made for the store. But I couldn’t remember which dress he bought.” Margaret Jeffers glanced back to her group of ladies. “I told them you would know, since you waited on him. He even bought a complete set of unmentionables, didn’t he? He took a long time choosing the dress. Awfully picky, if you ask me, when you consider it was for a saloon woman. Which dress did he finally buy?”

  “I really am busy at the moment, Mrs. Jeffers.” Lorna grabbed Tessa’s elbow and stepped back. “I’m filling an order. A very large order.”

  “Wait a minute. It’ll come back to me.” Margaret Jeffers stared at her employee, then at the customer standing by her side.

  “He bought a green calico,” Tessa interrupted.

  “That’s right.” Margaret snapped her fingers and turned to look at Amelia Riner. “He bought a calico. A green calico just like the one this young lady is weari—” She gasped. She studied Tessa, taking in her appearance from the top of her bonnet, which had graced the millinery section of her store until yesterday afternoon, to the tips of Tessa’s black leather shoes. Shoes that had come to Jeffers Mercantile by way of Chicago.

  “Just like the dress I’m wearing?” Tessa said. “It is the one I’m wearing.”

  “Get out!” Mrs. Jeffers spat the words at Tessa. “Get out, you…you saloon trash! How dare you darken the door of a reputable establishment?”

  Tessa stood her ground. She could feel the flush of blood staining her face and it made her fighting mad. She had no reason to feel embarrassed, no reason to hang her head or run and hide from the looks of horror on the faces of the gently bred ladies in the store. She was innocent; she hadn’t killed Arnie Mason, and respectable or not, working in a saloon to put food on the table and a roof over her head wasn’t a crime. It was honest labor, nothing to be ashamed of. Tessa stayed where she was and looked Margaret Jeffers straight in the eye. “This reputable establishment is open to the public.” She handed the bag of candy to Coalie. “I’m a customer. Mr. Alexander asked me to come here and get what I needed. He said to put everything on his account.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.” Margaret Jeffers was indignant. “I don’t sell my goods to riffraff.” She reached for the bag of candy.

  Coalie stepped back.

  “Riffraff?” Tessa’s face grew even redder. She took a step forward, her fists clenched at her sides. “You think an important lawyer like David Alexander is riffraff?”

  “He is if he associates with you. Riffraff.” Mrs. Jeffers advanced. “The lot of you. Saloon girls, no-good painted hussies, and half-breed Indians.” She bared her teeth in a smug, superior smile as Tessa took another step.

  “Mr. Alexander said—”

  “This store doesn’t belong to David Alexander. It belongs to me. And I want you out of it. Immediately.”

  “You won’t put my supplies on his account?”

  “No, I will not.”

  “Then I’ll pay with cash money.” Tessa walked to where David’s jacket hung near the door, removed the bills, and waved them. “I’ve got plenty.” She allowed Mrs. Jeffers to see the denominations of the bills. “And I’m willing to pay for everything I buy. Today.”

  The store owner hesitated for the barest second, but stiffened her resolve at the sound of the collective gasp coming from the ladies’ corner. “Your money isn’t good in this store. It’s dirty money.”

  Tessa nodded, then reached for Coalie’s hand. “It’s your loss.” She put the money back in her pocket. “Come on, Coalie. She’s not interested in our business.” Tessa looked down and met Margaret Jeffers’s steely gaze. “We don’t want to darken the door of a struggling little mercantile when we can send to Chicago for all the supplies we want.” Tessa looked Margaret Jeffers in the eye. “It isn’t as if we don’t have money.”

  Coalie thrust the bag of candy sticks into Tessa’s hands. “I don’t want ’em. They have better candy in Chicago.”

  Tessa turned her back on Mrs. Jeffers and walked to the coat tree. She removed Coalie’s hat and coat and handed them to him, then pulled David’s heavy coat from the hook and slipped it on. She glanced back at Lorna Taylor, then walked over and placed the paper bag in Lorna’s hands. “Thank you.”

  Lorna smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “Not in my store she isn’t.” Mrs. Jeffers rounded on her employee. “And neither will you be if you continue to associate with the likes of her.”

  Tessa opened the door. “Don’t let her bully you, Miss Taylor,” she advised.

  “Bully?” Margaret shrieked.

  “Yes, bully,” Tessa repeated. “That’s what you do to Miss Taylor, and that’s what you are—a small-minded bully. It’s a pleasure not to do business with you.”

  Lorna Taylor couldn’t hide her smile of pleasure at the look on Margaret’s face.

  Seeing it, Margaret Jeffers pointed a finger at her employee. “If you take her side, you’re fired.”

  Tessa looked at Lorna. “There are other jobs. Better jobs.”

  “Like the Satin Slipper?” Margaret Jeffe
rs offered.

  “Maybe,” Tessa said.

  “She’ll find herself there,” Margaret warned. “If she continues to associate with you and David Alexander.”

  “Well,” Tessa said to Margaret, “it can’t be any worse than working for a bully like you. The hours are long, and the place is loud, but the class of people there is much better. Saloons don’t cater to snobs.”

  Tessa took a dollar bill from her pocket, then walked over to Margaret Jeffers, opened her hand, and let the bill fall to the floor at Margaret’s feet. “Here’s a dollar for your time and two candy sticks.” With that parting shot, Tessa and Coalie left Jeffers’s Mercantile.

  Shaking with reaction, Tessa held back her sobs until she was halfway down the street, then burst into angry tears. She wanted to run to the depot and buy tickets for the first train heading out of Peaceable. She wanted to run away again, but she’d given David her word and she’d keep it even if it killed her.

  * * *

  “Thanks, Sheriff.” David closed the front door of the sheriff’s office and stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk. He took his watch out of his pocket and opened the cover. There was plenty of time to meet the doc at the funeral parlor before he joined Tessa and Coalie at the mercantile. David wanted a last look at Arnie Mason’s corpse. Something about it nagged at his brain, tugged at his consciousness, just out of reach. It was a shame Dr. McMurphy was visiting his sister-in-law in Virginia. David trusted Kevin McMurphy’s expertise and his sound judgment. David only hoped Doc Turner knew half as much.

  Inhaling deeply, David closed the watch, dropped it back into his waistcoat pocket, then raised his arms above his head, stretching the aches out of his large body. He was over six feet tall and he’d spent far too many hours hunched over a desk. He turned to his right and caught a glimpse of green out of the corner of his eye. Tessa and Coalie were sitting quietly on a wooden bench outside the sheriff’s office.

  Lowering his arms, David approached them. “Finished so soon?” he asked.

  Tessa didn’t look up, and Coalie merely shrugged in greeting.

  “I thought you’d have a dozen or so packages for me to carry,” David teased. “Or…oh, no, don’t tell me. You’re having a wagon deliver the supplies.”

  “Not exactly.” Tessa’s voice had an edge to it.

  A quiver of alarm shot up David’s spine. “Tessa? Is something wrong?”

  “Not anymore,” she answered brightly.

  “You did go to Jeffers’s Mercantile?”

  “We went,” Tessa replied, “but we didn’t find anything we really needed. Or wanted.” Still she didn’t look up to meet his gaze.

  “At Jeffers’s Mercantile? You’ve got to be kidding. They carry everything that anyone could possibly need.”

  “Not for me.”

  “What about flour, sugar, and tea?” David studied Tessa. “You did get that, didn’t you? Coalie?” David glanced at the boy squirming on the wooden bench.

  “Tell him.” Coalie nudged Tessa in the arm.

  “What is it?” The quiver of alarm grew into something more. A heavy feeling settled in David’s chest.

  “The ladies at the mercantile are probably still in shock because Coalie and I dared to darken the door of a reputable establishment.” The angry words burst from Tessa’s lips. “That woman wouldn’t put our purchases on your account, nor would she take our money. It wasn’t good enough for her. She says it’s dirty…just like us.” Tessa’s small frame quivered with anger.

  “Lorna said that?” David couldn’t believe his ears.

  “No,” Tessa told him. “Not Lorna. The other one. Mrs. Jeffers. She called us riffraff and ordered us to leave her store, as if we weren’t good enough to shop there.” She raised her chin a notch higher.

  David bent down in front of her. He touched Tessa’s chin with one finger, lowering the angle a bit so he could see the militant expression masking the vulnerability in her eyes.

  “What did you say?” he asked Tessa.

  “I told Mrs. Jeffers I didn’t want to shop at her mercantile. I had money enough to order my supplies from Chicago…”

  “Chicago?” David interrupted. “Couldn’t you think of someplace closer?”

  “I was angry,” Tessa told him.

  “I can tell.” David found it hard to keep a straight face. He’d have paid money to see Tessa face off with Margaret Jeffers.

  “Do you want to know what happened or not?” Tessa demanded.

  “I wouldn’t miss this retelling for anything.”

  Tessa eyed him suspiciously. “Then quit interrupting.”

  “I’m sorry.” David almost laughed, but quickly coughed to cover it up. “Please continue.”

  She repeated the confrontation almost word for word, then ended her recitation with a flourish. “I told her we could order supplies from Chicago, then I told her that the Satin Slipper catered to a better class of people than the ones in her store. And then, I dropped a dollar on the floor in front of her and left.” Tessa glared at David, waiting for his reaction.

  She didn’t have to wait long. One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile before he burst into laughter.

  “It wasn’t funny,” Tessa informed him.

  David sat down on the bench and laughed until his ribs ached. “Oh, contessa, I can just see Margaret Jeffers’s face when you told her the Satin Slipper had a better class of customers.”

  A smile broke through the stern set of Tessa’s lips. She glanced at David, saw the humor mirrored in his dark eyes and the lines of mirth bracketing his mouth, and started to laugh with him.

  David laughed until he couldn’t laugh any longer. Then he sat watching Tessa. He was angry at the women in town and ashamed of the way they’d treated her, but he was proud of Tessa. Proud of the way she’d behaved. David knew how it felt to be ostracized. He knew how much it hurt. Reaching out, he took Tessa’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “My mother always says it’s better to laugh at your woes than to cry,” David explained. “I hope she’s right.”

  Tessa smiled up at him, liking the feel of his strong hand holding hers. “I feel better now.”

  “Tessa, I’m sorry you had to go through that ordeal,” David murmured. “I sent you to the mercantile because I knew Lorna would be there. I thought she’d take care of you. I don’t know why she stood by and let Margaret Jeffers throw you out of the store.” David let go of Tessa’s hand, stood up, and began to pace, his frustration evident in every step.

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Tessa said, feeling a little sad now that David had let go of her hand. “She tried, but Mrs. Jeffers—”

  “Come on.” David reached down and grabbed Tessa’s elbow.

  “Where are we going?” Tessa asked, though she was pretty sure she knew.

  “Back to the mercantile.”

  “Not me.” Tessa held back. “I said my piece. I’ve had enough.”

  David paid no attention. “We’re going back to Jeffers’s and buy those supplies you wanted.”

  “No.” Tessa pulled against him. She knew she was being cowardly, but she was tired of confrontation. She knew she should march back in there at David Alexander’s side and demand that she be treated like any other paying customer, but not today. Not this time. “Please. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters,” David said, but he stopped tugging on Tessa’s arm and looked at her face. She’d laughed, but she was laughing through tears. And right now she looked tired, tired of fighting. David recognized the feeling. He’d been there himself once or twice. She needed time to herself. Time to regroup. David abruptly let go of her arm. “Come on,” he urged, his voice soft, gentle. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “Thanks,” Tessa said as she walked between them, Coalie on one side, David Alexander on the other.

  “Don’t thank me,” David warned. “I’ve got to get to the undertaker’s in a few minutes, but as soon as I finish there I’m going to Jeffers’s Mercantile and have a talk wi
th Margaret Jeffers myself.”

  “Take your time at the undertaker’s. Mrs. Jeffers’ll probably need some time to recover before she talks to you.” Looking up at David, Tessa giggled. “She was in shock when we left,” she warned him. “But, you know, it was almost worth it just to see the look on her face when I compared her store to the Satin Slipper.”

  Chapter Eight

  The crowd at Jeffers’s Mercantile was even thicker than before. Word of Margaret Jeffers’s confrontation with the murdering little saloon girl had traveled like wildfire. Nearly half the people in town jammed into the store to listen to the details while they waited for David Alexander’s arrival. Everyone knew he was coming. It was simply a matter of time.

  Down the street, Lee Kincaid lounged by the entrance of the funeral parlor, his hat pulled low over his eyes, concealing his face. He’d gone on the pretense of paying his respects to Arnie Mason, but he was lying in wait for David. Lee intended to waylay him before David had the chance to make a fool of himself in front of the townspeople, twelve of whom would be jurors at Tessa’s trial.

  Lee heard about the incident at the store almost as soon as it happened. He’d gone in to pick up a few personal items minutes after Tessa left and heard six or seven versions of the encounter from at least that many women. Women who gossiped in the ladies’ corner. Lee knew they’d drawn the right conclusion. It wouldn’t be long before David Alexander showed up to defend Tessa’s honor. David was nothing if not straightforward.

  Lee waited patiently. He heard the brisk steps of Doc Turner as they passed him and headed toward the buggy parked in front of the undertaker’s. Lee raised the brim of his hat a fraction, then peeked through the window. David was coming down the stairs. Lee waited until the front door opened.

  “What the hell?” David blurted out as someone grabbed hold of his arm.

  “Shut up,” Lee muttered, pulling David away from the doorway to the side of the building, away from prying eyes. “You took long enough,” Lee told him. “I’ve been waiting nearly half an hour.” He let go of David’s coat sleeve and, turning to face him, pushed his hat back away from his face.