by Kit Morgan
“… I know, I know, that becoming a mail-order bride isn’t half bad. But will that really make him back off?”
Katie stopped dusting. “I don’t know. I’m afraid that after Jace speaks with them my parents will disown me and I’ll never see them again.”
“Your husband isn’t going to browbeat your father, is he?”
Katie turned to her. “If Papa threatens me, he might. Don’t get me wrong – Jace is a good man, but he won’t put up with bullying.”
“Well, at least you know you’re well-protected.” Beryl said lamely. But she understood what Katie was saying. It was the one thing no one wanted to happen, despite Katie’s father being an overbearing despot.
“Want to help me do some inventory?” Katie asked.
Beryl nodded, glad for a change of subject. “Maybe I’ll find a book I like.”
“The romance novels are over there.” Katie pointed with the feather duster.
She laughed. “You know me so well.”
Katie smiled as she headed back to the front counter. “I need my clipboard and pencil – I’ll be right back. We can start in the history section.”
Beryl sighed and turned to the nearest wall of books, perusing the spines while she waited. She thought of Ephraim, Mayor Vander, Katie’s father. Had they suffered a verbal explosion yet? Were they able to calm the man down? Good heavens, did his blood pressure give him a heart attack? No – if that were the case, someone would have come to fetch Katie …
They spent the next hour doing inventory, a mindless task that Beryl enjoyed. It was nice not to have to think about much for a while. But she began to worry when no one came back to the bookshop to inform them of Katie’s father. “What time are you off today?”
Katie looked up from her clipboard. “When the professor returns. Probably after lunch.”
Beryl glanced at the front of the shop and back. “Aren’t you wondering what’s happening?”
“No, I know exactly what’s happening. My father is blustering and bellowing at people he knows won’t fight back. Mayor Vander is trying to pacify him, and I wish him all the luck in the world. Ephraim is working very hard not to hit my father. This is who they are.”
Beryl couldn’t help but chuckle. “I shouldn’t laugh, Especially not about your father.”
“Why not? It is funny – when it’s happening to someone else. And it’s why he’s so good in business. He’ll also try to impress Mayor Vander, simply because he’s the mayor, and to figure out what Ephraim’s made of simply because he’s supposed to marry you.”
“What?” Beryl said as her face screwed up. “Please don’t take offense, but why does your father care?”
“You are my friend, after all.” Katie smiled at Beryl. “And he’s almost as stubborn as you.”
Beryl laughed. “So does that mean he’s more bark than bite?”
Katie nodded. “Sometimes. He can be ruthless in business, and this whole thing about marrying me off to Ronald only makes sense if …” She hung her head.
“Katie?” Beryl touched her arm. “Is something wrong?”
Katie looked at her. “I think my parents might have money troubles. Why else would he be so desperate?”
“Have you asked them?”
“I’d have to ask my father. I doubt he’d tell my mother anything.”
“If he is in trouble financially and needs a union between Ronald and yourself, and Ronald doesn’t know you’re married …”
“He could ruin my family. He’s perfectly capable of it – he might be a bore, but he’s not stupid. Or ethical.”
Hadn’t she already wondered about this? Yes. But to hear Katie say it made it all too real. “Your father’s desperate to survive,” she said more to herself than Katie.
“It would explain a lot. I know what my father’s like, I’ll be the first to tell anyone, but I’ve never seen him like this.”
Beryl spied a chair and sat. She was suddenly weary, the tension in her shoulders tightening. “What will you do?”
Katie shrugged. “The only thing I can do. I’m married to Jace. I’m not leaving Independence to marry someone else. That would be illegal, immoral … and silly.”
“And if your father loses his business? If Ronald ruins him?”
Katie’s eyes misted with tears.
Beryl stood and hugged Katie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I feel so helpless, Beryl,” she said against her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help them.” She drew away from the embrace. “Ronald could ruin my parents financially and socially. They’d never be able to show their face in Denver again.”
“But how could he do that?”
“He’d find a way. I know he would. And if not him, then he’d have his father take care of it.”
“Charles Finch?” Beryl said in surprise. “I’ve never heard anything bad about him.”
Katie wiped her tears. “That’s because you haven’t heard everything.”
Beryl blanched. She never gave such things a second thought. No one would dare threaten her own father – the Branson name was known nationwide – but Bertram Haverdash’s position was more fragile. He was a small fish in a large pond of upper-class businessmen who did quite well for themselves, but giants like C.J. Branson ruled the business ocean. “I think the first thing to do is find out what trouble if any your father is in.”
“Yes, but how do I go about that?” Katie pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose. “I’m afraid it will only upset him. You know how proud he is.”
“Pride and stubbornness is a bad combination.”
Katie laughed. “You ought to know.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true. It’s one of the reasons I’m here, remember?”
Katie laughed again and put her arm around Beryl. “Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure out a way to find out.”
“And you’re sure your mother won’t know a thing?”
“You know what a worrywart she is. And Father’s pride won’t let him admit weakness to his wife. He’s not about to tell her. But I’d hate to see her find out from the gossips first.”
“You could inform him that he needs to speak with her. Maybe that’s how you can bring it up.”
Katie headed for the front of the shop. “I can try, but will he listen?” She set her clipboard on the counter. “Now let’s go look at some romance novels.”
Beryl followed Katie to another part of the bookshop. This whole affair was getting more complicated by the day.
She finished helping Katie do inventory, bought a romance novel, then went to Gruber’s, picked up a light lunch for both of them and brought it back to the shop. By the time Professor Hamilton returned it was almost three o’clock, so she went back to the hotel and took a nap.
She was woken by a knock on the door and went to answer it. “Oh, dear me,” Petunia said as she entered. “I can’t decide what to wear tonight to the mayor’s dinner.”
Beryl rubbed her tired eyes. “I don’t think it’s a formal affair. I’m sure whatever you have is fine.”
“Oh, no – this is a mayor. It doesn’t matter how small the town, child, we’re still dining with the elite.”
“Mmph … how about your yellow afternoon dress?”
“Oh, my, yes!” Petunia smiled. “You know I’d forgotten all about that one.” She looked at Beryl’s day dress, now wrinkled from a fitful sleep. “Please tell me you’re not wearing that.”
Beryl looked at her attire, then her reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. She looked a mess. “No, I plan to change.”
“But what will you wear, dear?” Petunia persisted.
With a sigh Beryl turned toward the armoire where she’d hung her clothes. “I’m sure my green afternoon dress will be fine.”
“The light green one with the pretty ruffles?”
“Yes, that one …” Beryl yawned. “Pardon me.”
“It’s quite all right dear. Poor Bertram won’t be much better when he wakes up.”
Beryl cocked her head. “How long has he been asleep?”
“Hours. Dr. Stone, your betrothed, gave him some laudanum to calm his nerves.”
Beryl covered her mouth to hide her smile. No wonder she and Katie hadn’t seen her father the rest of the day. “I’m sure he’ll feel refreshed when he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up, you mean,” Petunia giggled nervously. “My heavens, I haven’t seen him sleep this soundly in months.”
Beryl thought a moment. “Oh?” She closed the door. “Petunia, is he all right?”
“You mean his blood pressure? Well, our physician in Denver tells him to be careful …”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Are things all right … with the two of you?”
The older woman gasped. “Just what are you implying, young lady?”
Great. She should have worded that differently. “I mean, is everything all right with business and … life?”
“Well, other than this debacle with our Katie marrying a country sheriff, everything’s fine.”
“And you don’t think Ronald Finch will be upset that she married Sheriff Diamond?”
Petunia froze, her mouth half-open. Uh-oh … “Mrs. Haverdash?”
“Please, call me Petunia. After all, when you and that nice Dr. Stone get married and my Bertram escorts you down the aisle, I’ll feel like we’ll be practically family.”
“What?”
“I heard Bertram tell Dr. Stone he plans on walking you down the aisle when we were in his office.”
Beryl stiffened. “What?!”
“I do so love weddings!” Petunia grinned. “I can’t wait to attend yours!” She glanced around the room. “My heavens, I never asked – did you bring a dress?”
“Oh, good grief,” Beryl said under her breath. “Petunia, I have no idea when Dr. Stone and I will get married, or if we will. We might not suit.”
“But of course you will, dear. I’ve seen the way the man looks at you. Trust me, you’ll be married before the week is out. Now I really must go – I want to visit Katie while Bertram’s still asleep. Then I’ll barely have time to get dressed for dinner. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Beryl fought back a sigh. “Of course.”
“Thank you so much, dear. Now I must be off.” She opened the door. “Goodbye!”
As soon as she was gone, Beryl sighed in frustration. It seemed she was getting nowhere. But at least Katie had another day of peace. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Or for that matter, tonight at the Vanders’?
She shuddered, went to the armoire and pulled out the green dress. She studied the ruffles around the collar and sleeves and wondered if Ephraim would like it, then laid it across the bed and sat. “Does it matter if he likes it? I’m not marrying him.”
This whole trip was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for. It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t actually like Mr. Stone, but she did. She feared that spending more time with him would only make those feelings grow. Heartache was the last thing she needed right now – she had to concentrate on Katie and help her with her parents.
Should she try to get a hold of her own parents? If anyone could put a stop to whatever underhandedness Ronald Finch might concoct, it would be C.J. Branson. But by the time she got word to him, it could be too late.
Beryl fell against the mattress and sighed again. Things were a lot messier now, and it was beginning to look like they wouldn’t work out the way she’d hoped.
Chapter Nine
The Vanders’ home was the biggest in town, the yard bordered by a white picket fence. Beryl studied it as she and the Haverdashes went through. She noted the gate post where Katie told her a bullet hit and did her best not to grimace. She’d learned more about what happened to Katie over lunch in the bookshop earlier. Maybe it was another reason she felt so tired.
“What a lovely home,” Petunia said. “Why, it’s as big as our house, dear.”
Mr. Haverdash looked over the structure, harrumphed and continued up the walk to the door. “I’d like to know why your young man didn’t escort us here.”
“We made no such arrangements,” she said.
“Harrumph!” He banged the knocker against the door.
They didn’t wait long before a butler answered. “Yes?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Haverdash and company,” Mr. Haverdash said sourly.
Beryl was surprised he’d been as quiet as he had since leaving the hotel. Maybe he was starting to realize what a fool he’d been making of himself with all his bellowing. That, or Ephraim had put him in his place. Speaking of which, where was he? She looked over her shoulder at the gate just before going inside. There was still no sign of him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Haverdash,” the butler announced as he led them into a large parlor.
“Welcome!” Mayor Vander boomed. “Come in!”
A petite old woman got out a chair and smiled as Beryl approached. “Why, hello!” she chirped. “It’s so wonderful to meet you.” She went straight to Petunia and took her hands into her own. “I want to hear all about your trip and what’s been going on in Denver!”
Mayor Vander turned to her. “Since when are you interested in what goes on in Denver?”
“Since now. For Heaven’s sake, Horace, I finally get a chance to gossip with an outsider who isn’t here as a mail-order bride and you have to question why?”
He glanced at Mr. Haverdash. “Yes. For one, Denver is hardly a foreign country.”
Mrs. Vander made a face. “It might as well be.”
Beryl did her best not to laugh as the mayor turned to Mr. Haverdash. “Lemonade?”
“Right here, Mayor Vander.” Beryl turned to see a maid carrying a tray of glasses over.
“My, what great service,” Petunia grinned. “You barely mentioned it.”
“Yes, our Betsy’s a wonder,” Mayor Vander said proudly. “Anticipates my every whim!”
Betsy the maid arched an eyebrow at him. “Mm-hmm.” She offered glasses to Mrs. Haverdash and Mrs. Vander first, then the men and finally Beryl. She looked her over, smiled and nodded.
“Something wrong?” Beryl asked.
“No. Just seeing who caught Doc Stone’s eye, that’s all.” She turned around. “Will there be anything else, Mrs. Vander?”
“No, Betsy. Call us when dinner’s ready.”
Betsy nodded and left.
“My, you have a lovely home,” Petunia said.
Beryl turned from the others and pretended to take interest in the portrait of a young blond man, a dark-haired woman and a small boy. Her cheeks were hot and she had an odd tingly feeling. Why on Earth would the maid say such a thing? Unless …
“So when’s the big day, young lady?” Mayor Vander bellowed. “Mercy can’t wait to lend a helping hand.”
Beryl turned in time to see Mrs. Vander’s grin. “It’s true!” she said. “My friends and I would love to help.”
Petunia clapped. “Did you hear that, dear? Isn’t that nice of Mrs. Vander and her friends?”
Beryl smiled weakly. “How lovely.” She turned back to the painting.
“That’s our boy Garrett and his wife Ammy,” Mrs. Vander explained. “And that’s young Fletcher on Garrett’s knee. He lives with us, you know.”
“Fletcher?” Beryl said as she turned. “Fletcher who married Sophie Baxter?”
“Yes, that’s right – do you know her?”
“No, but Eph … Mr. Stone told me about them.”
“Yes, she was his mail-order bride.”
Beryl’s eyebrows rose. But Ephraim said she came to marry someone named Munson, and only ended up marrying Fletcher after Munson was …
There was a knock at the door, and the butler appeared out of nowhere to answer it. “That must be Dr. Stone,” Mercy said.
“He’s late,” Mr. Haverdash huffed.
“Well he is a doctor,” Mrs. Vander said. “W
ho knows where he’s been or what he’s been doing.? Accidents don’t run on a schedule, you know.”
Beryl snorted and covered her mouth.
Mr. Haverdash glared at her. “Be that as it may, he should’ve sent word if he’d be late.”
“He’s hardly late,” Beryl said. “We’ve only arrived ourselves.”
“Doctor Stone,” the butler announced as Ephraim entered.
Ephraim eyed him. “Been practicing, Cecil?”
The butler grinned. “Do I sound distinguished enough?”
Ephraim laughed and patted him on the back. “You’re perfect.”
The butler stood to attention, cleared his throat, turned on his heel and left.
Betsy appeared with a glass of lemonade for Ephraim, smiling at him as she handed him the glass. “Doc Stone.”
“Thank you, Betsy.”
She turned, gave Beryl an exaggerated wink, then took off. Beryl stared after her. What was that about? Other than the obvious.
Ephraim greeted the others, then came to her. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She blushed and looked him over. He wore a dark suit with a string tie and his hair looked like he hadn’t worn a hat. He also smelled nice, like he just took a bath.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, no.” She looked away. Drat, he’d caught her staring. “Nothing.”
He smiled. “You were so quiet; for a moment, I thought you were someplace else.”
She blushed again. “No, just … thinking.” She glanced at Mr. Haverdash and back. “How was your day?”
He did the same. “Interesting. That is one stubborn man.”
“Indeed he is.” She looked at him and smiled. “He told me he wishes to accompany me down the aisle on our wedding day.”
“Oh, that,” Ephraim said with a hint of a smile. “Mayor Vander kept asking about the wedding. That’s just how he is. You should’ve seen what he put poor Fletcher and Sophie through.”
“About that … I thought Sophie came to marry a Mr. Munson.”
He smiled again. “Yes, but you can’t tell Mercy and Horace that. They think she came to marry Fletcher. Or at least that’s what they let everyone believe. You never know with those two.”
