Stetsons, Spring and Wedding Rings

by Jillian Hart

  At that moment Travis stepped out of Holt’s General Store carrying a bundle wrapped in brown paper. Brynn couldn’t read the expression on his face, couldn’t imagine where his thoughts might lie. All she knew was that she’d had quite enough of him manipulating her life, dictating where she could go. True, the plan he’d come up with left no one in Harmony to speculate that she was actually in custody, under the watchful eye of a Pinkerton detective, and perhaps she should have been grateful. But she wasn’t. She’d had quite enough of Travis having his way on things.

  The women walked over, their gazes darting from Brynn to Travis and back again. She could only imagine what they were thinking: how good the two of them looked together; what a perfect couple they made; when the wedding would be.

  “We’ve come to a decision,” Mrs. Kimball announced as the women stopped in front of Brynn and Travis. “We’re going to have a bake sale after church services on Sunday to raise money for the Ladies’ Social Club.”

  “Reverend Harrison has to agree to it, of course,” Mrs. Stanton pointed out.

  “But we’re certain he will,” Mrs. Prescott added. “I’m going to talk to the reverend this afternoon.”

  “And I’m going to head up the fund-raising,” Mrs. Stanton said.

  “We’d like you to be in charge of decorating the social club,” Mrs. Kimball said.

  “We loved your idea about the wall colors,” Mrs. Prescott told her, nodding wisely.

  “You’re the best suited for the job,” Mrs. Stanton said. “After all, you have extensive knowledge of the very latest in home decorating tips from your aunt’s book.”

  “You simply must do this,” Mrs. Kimball told her.

  Brynn was flattered by the offer. No one had ever asked her to take on such a big project. Her mind raced with all sorts of ideas for filling the meeting room with everything necessary for a warm, welcoming spot.

  Then another idea came to her. If she was busy with the social club, she could more easily avoid Travis—and the temptation of kissing him in public buildings.

  “I’d be delighted to head up the project,” Brynn told them.

  All the women smiled and nodded their approval.

  “Excellent,” Mrs. Kimball declared. “We’ll go over all the details after the fund-raiser on Sunday.”

  “In the meantime, go ahead and get started,” Mrs. Stanton said.

  “No need in waiting,” Mrs. Prescott agreed.

  “Get started?” Brynn asked. “How? If there’s no funds yet—”

  “With the cleaning,” Mrs. Prescott said.

  Brynn’s eyes widened. “You mean that I should clean that entire building…myself?”

  Mrs. Kimball chuckled gently. “No, of course not. We’ll find you some help. There are lots of strong men in Harmony who’ll gladly help out with such a good cause.”

  “No need for that,” Travis said. “I’ll get some men together and get that building cleaned up myself, as long as Miss O’Keefe is there to make sure it’s all done perfectly.”

  “Wonderful!” Mrs. Kimball declared.

  Chapter Eight

  Brynn read her aunt’s letter once again, hoping, for some silly reason, that the words might somehow change. They didn’t.

  Pete had delivered the letter to her this morning while she ate breakfast in the hotel dining room. Getting a letter from Aunt Sadie felt odd. So much had happened here in Harmony, Brynn felt very disconnected from her aunt.

  Aunt Sadie didn’t feel the same, however. In her letter, which had been penned by her secretary, she instructed Brynn to return to Hayden immediately. Aunt Sadie was worried over her, concerned that her trip to Harmony had taken longer than expected. Even though Brynn had telegrammed her right away, notifying her of the delay—no mention that she was awaiting a hearing before the circuit judge, of course—her aunt was concerned about her. Now she insisted that Brynn take the next train back to Hayden.

  The other troubling news Aunt Sadie had shared was that she still wasn’t well enough to continue the tour. Brynn knew that her aunt occasionally suffered from crippling headaches, with effects that sometimes lingered for weeks. This one seemed worse than usual. Aunt Sadie’s secretary had written to the towns where she was scheduled to speak and explained the situation.

  Everyone understood, she reported.

  Brynn paused outside the express office, staring at the gold letters painted on the window. She had to tell her aunt something—

  other than the truth, of course. The only thing worse than being a suspected jewel thief was having her family find out about it.

  So there was nothing to do but lie.

  Travis popped into Brynn’s head as she recalled his suggestion that Aunt Sadie include a chapter in an upcoming book on telling the perfect lie. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Brynn pulled her shoulders up straighter. There was nothing left to do but go inside and send Aunt Sadie a telegram telling her how desperately she was needed here in Harmony. Of course, it wouldn’t be a complete lie, Brynn told herself. After all, she was heading up the Ladies’ Social Club project. Still, it brought little comfort to Brynn, especially since she had Aunt Sadie to thank for getting her away from Richmond.

  “Good afternoon, Miss O’Keefe,” a man said.

  She turned and saw Hiram Smith on the boardwalk. He smiled pleasantly and tipped his hat.

  “Good afternoon to you.” She smiled in return, genuinely pleased to see him. He looked like a gentleman, just as he had on the train ride from Hayden, well turned out in a fine-looking suit and carefully knotted cravat. She’d seen no one in Harmony who looked so nice.

  “May I say, Miss O’Keefe, that you are a welcome sight in this town,” Hiram said, his smile widening a bit.

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Smith,” she said. “It’s more than kind of you to say so.”

  “May I inquire about your aunt?” Hiram asked. “I hope her health has improved.”

  Brynn had explained to Hiram on the train from Hayden that Aunt Sadie was too ill to continue her tour. She was surprised that he’d remembered, and pleased that he’d asked.

  “She’s still not well,” Brynn said.

  “And unable to continue her tour?” he asked, then shook his head. “That puts you in quite a predicament, I’d say, having to forge ahead with the lectures on your own.”

  “Actually, I’ll be staying here in Harmony for a while longer.

  The ladies in town have all been very kind,” Brynn reported.

  “Your lecture was well received, I understand. I wish I’d known the time and date earlier. I’d have attended.”

  “I’m afraid you’d have been quite bored,” Brynn said.

  “I doubt that. I’ve heard ladies mention it all over town as I’ve called on them,” he said, nodding to the sample case he carried.

  “I certainly hope you and your fabrics are being well received, also,” she said.

  “I believe I have you to thank for that, Miss O’Keefe. Every woman in town is anxious to present a perfect home,” Hiram said.

  He paused for a moment, then said, “Perhaps you’ll allow me the honor of calling on you? I assume you’re staying at the Harmony Hotel?”

  “Yes, I’m at the hotel,” she said, but wasn’t sure how to answer his other question.

  How nice to be called on by a gentleman—or at least someone who didn’t suspect her of a crime. But thanks to Travis’s announcement that he was courting her, being seen with Hiram might start tongues wagging, and that was the very last thing she wanted.

  “Please think it over,” Hiram said, and she was pleased he hadn’t pushed her for an answer.

  “Good day, Miss O’Keefe.” He tipped his hat respectfully, as a gentleman would, and walked away.

  Brynn watched him for a moment, then warmth rippled up her neck. She turned and saw Travis across the street watching her.

  “Everything’s set,” Olivia said to Brynn in a low voice.

  “Looks as if w
e’ll have a good turnout.”

  Around them the church was nearly full, as the townsfolk settled into the pews, awaiting the start of the Sunday service.

  Today was the fund-raiser for the Ladies’ Social Club and, from the looks of things, the women of Harmony had done a good job getting the word out.

  Olivia and Rafe had stopped by the Harmony Hotel this morning and asked Brynn to walk to the service with them. She appreciated seeing their friendly faces.

  Olivia leaned forward, gazing at the people seated in their pew.

  “I don’t see Mrs. Stanton, do you?” she asked.

  Brynn looked around the room but didn’t see her, either. She was more surprised that she hadn’t spotted Travis among the congregation. Nor had he been outside her hotel this morning, or on her walk to the church. He’d accompanied her through the streets of Harmony or watched her from nearby every time she’d set foot out of her hotel.

  “No, I don’t see her,” Brynn whispered back. “Wait. That might be her seated—”

  “Oh, I see her,” Olivia said.

  “Shh,” Rafe said softly, and nodded toward the front of the church where the service was beginning.

  Miss Marshall seated herself at the piano and began playing

  “Amazing Grace” as Reverend Harrison stepped through the doorway near the altar, clutching his Bible. The choir filed in after him, the congregation came to its feet and everyone began to sing.

  Where was Travis? Brynn wondered as she sang along with everyone else. Why hadn’t she seen him this morning?

  Her spirits lifted a little as it occurred to her that perhaps he’d left town, called away to investigate something more important than her. Did that mean she could leave Harmony?

  Then, just as quickly, her thoughts shifted and a wave of dread pressed down on her. What if Travis was investigating another case? Could he possibly be in danger? Had something happened to him? Had he been shot, injured—or worse?

  A thousand thoughts jetted through Brynn’s mind, all of them alarming. What if something dreadful happened to Travis? What if she never saw him again?

  She would ask Rafe, as soon as the service was over. He was the town sheriff, plus Travis’s friend. He’d know, surely.

  Brynn said a silent prayer for his safety and turned her attention to the hymn, then gasped as she spotted Travis singing in the choir. She blinked, thinking her worry over him had played a trick with her mind, then looked again. But no. It was Travis.

  He stood with the choir of four men and six women, easy to spot, since he was so tall. Dressed in a white shirt and wearing a string tie, he held the hymnal and raised his voice in song along with everyone else.

  Stunned, Brynn could only stare. She’d known Travis as a Pinkerton detective, a strong, decisive man upholding the law, sometimes on his own terms. She hadn’t expected this side of him existed.

  The service passed in a blur for Brynn, and when the reverend gave the closing prayer and urged the congregation to attend the fund-raiser to take place at the adjoining fellowship hall, she moved out of the church along with everyone else.

  While children played on the lawn and men gathered to talk, the women went inside the fellowship hall to prepare the food.

  Later, desserts would be sold and the mayor would address the townsfolk, asking for donations for the social club.

  Brynn watched with a stab of envy as Olivia and Rafe parted company at the steps to the fellowship hall. They lingered for a moment just looking deeply into each other’s eyes, before Olivia went inside. Brynn’s heart ached a little, seeing the two of them so much in love.

  Then Travis caught her eye and that little ache disappeared.

  In its place was—well, she didn’t know just what it was but it wrapped around her like two warm arms.

  She smiled and walked toward him, unable to stop herself.

  “You surprised me,” she said, gazing up at him. “I had no idea you sang in the choir.”

  “Whenever I’m in town,” he told her, as if it were the most ordinary of things, the answer he gave anyone who asked. But then he paused, as if he saw her in a different light, and said,

  “Advice from my pa.”

  “He was a lawman, too,” she said, remembering.

  Travis nodded. “He told me that dealing with outlaws and criminals all the time could affect a man. He didn’t let that happen to him and he didn’t want it to happen to me. He said I should go to church every Sunday so I wouldn’t forget there are good people in the world.”

  “What wonderful advice,” Brynn said. “I’m sure I’d enjoy meeting your father.”

  “He’d get a kick out of you,” Travis said.

  They stood at the steps for a moment, just looked at each other, then both seemed to realize what they were doing.

  “I’d better get inside,” Brynn said.

  Travis nodded. She expected him to move on but he didn’t.

  He stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her until she was safely inside the fellowship hall. But instead of finding his gesture annoying, as she might have before, it pleased her.

  “Get the biscuits, would you?” Olivia asked, breezing past her and handing her an apron.

  “Certainly,” Brynn called, looping it over her head.

  Around her the women of Harmony moved quickly and efficiently, getting the tables prepared and the food ready to serve. They talked and laughed. A hum of excitement filled the room, quickly enveloping Brynn, making her feel as if she were a part of it all.

  Tying the apron strings behind her, Brynn stole another look outside. Travis stood with a group of men, talking. Yet he wasn’t still. His head moved from side to side, his gaze darted relentlessly, taking in everything and everyone around him. He missed nothing. Travis would never be caught unprepared, Brynn knew.

  Just as she turned back inside, Hiram Smith bounced up the steps and stopped in front of her, giving her a start.

  “Good afternoon, Miss O’Keefe,” he said.

  He wore a fine suit, well turned out as a gentleman should be, and tipped his hat.

  She touched her hand to her chest and drew in a quick breath.

  “Good gracious, you startled me.”

  “My sincere apology,” he said, and offered a slight bow.

  “Might I have a word with you?”

  Brynn glanced back at the other women who were hard at work, expecting her to join them, when Hiram spoke again.

  “It concerns the fund-raiser,” he said. “I’d like to make a donation.”

  “How kind of you—”

  He pressed his finger to his lips, silencing her.

  “I’d like to keep this between the two of us,” he said, lowering his voice. He eased a little closer. “You see, Miss O’Keefe, I don’t want the good folks of Harmony to get the idea that, with my donation, I expect anyone to buy my fabrics in return. As a salesman and a representative of my company, I wouldn’t want it to appear that I’m attempting to ingratiate myself with anyone or take advantage of a worthy cause.”

  “I doubt anyone would think that,” she said. “I’m sure they would appreciate your generosity.”

  Hiram shook his head. “My experience has been otherwise, and I don’t dare take a chance.”

  Brynn considered his words for a moment. A man whose livelihood depended on public perception had to be careful what he did. Hadn’t she learned that herself the hard way back in Richmond?

  “I’ll fetch Mrs. Kimball,” Brynn said. “She’ll be happy to accept your donation.”

  “I’d rather give it to you personally,” he said and smiled. “You understand my situation more than anyone here. Perhaps we could arrange a time when I could meet with you? Would tomorrow morning be convenient?”

  “I’ll be at the Ladies’ Social Club meeting room all day. We’re starting on the renovations,” she said. “I doubt I’ll be finished until suppertime.”

  “Sounds like an ambitious day,” Hiram said with a hint of admiratio
n in his voice.

  “I’m sure I’ll be exhausted by then,” Brynn agreed.

  “I’ll come by the social club just before suppertime,” Hiram said. “You’ll wait there for me, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will,” she said and smiled. “The project desperately needs your donation.”

  He smiled politely, tipped his hat and blended into the crowd in the churchyard.

  Brynn watched him go, thinking how different he was from the other men in Harmony, in manners as well as dress. She’d known from that first day on the train that he was quite a gentleman. Now she knew he was generous to a fault, also.

  Her home in Richmond flashed in her mind. Papa had expected her to marry a gentleman—one he’d selected himself.

  Brynn had been in agreement and, if not for her blunder, might have expected a marriage proposal in a few months.

  Her gaze wandered to Travis.

  Richmond seemed so far away, her life there such a long time ago.

  Travis kept to the shadows. He’d been a lawman too long to advertise his position late at night. He didn’t expect trouble, but old habits died hard, even on the rear balcony of the Harmony Hotel.

  The town had quieted for the night. Travis had sat in the hotel lobby until all the guests had retired to their rooms for the evening, and he’d made sure one particular guest was among them. Brynn.

  It was hard seeing her disappear up the stairs and into her room, especially after the day they’d shared at church. Brynn had made herself a part of the community with an ease he hadn’t expected from a woman raised in the East who lectured on the importance of achieving perfection in all phases of one’s life. He’d listened to the reading she’d done from her aunt’s book on the church lawn this afternoon. Her voice was soft and sweet, tantalizing. He imagined having her all to himself, her whispering to him, her breath caressing his ear, in the most private of moments.

  They’d eaten together, seated side by side at the trestle table, surrounded by friends. Everyone had accepted his story that he was courting her so no one questioned his attentiveness. It was a ploy he found easier and easier to pull off. Especially when he was close to her, taking in her scent, watching her delicate movements and imagining so much more.