Blair looked out through the greenery surrounding the porch and toward the white corner of the Taggert mansion. “I deeply and sincerely hate that house,” she said with feeling. “If Houston hadn’t wanted to see it so badly, we wouldn’t have changed places, and I wouldn’t have spent the night with Leander and, now, if she didn’t want that house so much, she wouldn’t be considering marrying that barbarian.”
“Blair, you should rest this afternoon. Read some of the books you brought, and let us worry about Houston. By the way, where is Lee? Why didn’t he bring you home?”
Blair stood. “I think I will rest. I didn’t get much sleep last night. And Lee will probably be by in a while to pick up the carriage. Under no circumstances do I want to see him.”
Opal hesitated a moment before she agreed. “I’ll send Susan up with a tray. You rest, dear, because, if I know this town, tomorrow will be hectic. Just as soon as everyone hears about your marriage to Lee and Houston’s to that man, I’m sure…Oh my, I don’t even like to think about it.”
Blair didn’t want to either and, gratefully, she went to the sanctity of her room, where she stayed for the rest of the day.
Monday was worse than Blair ever imagined it could be. Breakfast was dreadful. Gates kept yelling, his mouth stuffed with food, that Blair had ruined her sister’s life. Since Blair tended to agree with him, it was difficult to defend herself. Opal kept crying, while Houston managed to look faraway, as if she weren’t hearing any of it.
After breakfast, people began to arrive in droves—wagonloads of them bearing food and flimsy excuses as to why they were there. It’d been so long since she’d lived in a small town that she was appalled at how nosy the people were. There didn’t seem to be anything that they considered none of their business. Paramount was the answer to why Lee was now marrying Blair. And they were very curious about Taggert, asking Houston thousands of questions about him and what his house was like.
At eleven, Blair went into the house, to put away one of the numerous pies that someone had brought, and managed to slip out the back door without anyone seeing her. She practically ran the two miles to the train station and she felt, with every step, that she was getting closer to freedom. When Alan came, he would be able to straighten out the entire mess, and then Houston would be able to marry Leander and Blair could return home.
Impatiently, she waited for the train to pull into the station and when it did, at last, she thought the steam would never clear. But through the mist, she saw him and began to run with the train, following him until he could jump off and take her in his arms.
She didn’t care that the people of Chandler watched them, or that they thought that she was engaged to another man—all that mattered was that she was with Alan again.
“What a wonderful welcome,” he said, holding her close.
She pulled back to look at him. He was still as handsome as she remembered, still with his blond-haired, blue-eyed wholesome good looks, a few inches taller than she was.
She had started to say something when she saw that his attention was directed to something over her shoulder. She turned quickly—but not quickly enough.
Leander deftly slipped his arm about her waist and managed to pull her to him and away from Alan in one motion. “So, you must be Alan,” he said smoothly, with a warm smile. “I’ve heard so much about you. Of course, there aren’t many secrets between lovers, are there, sweetheart?”
“Release me!” she said under her breath while trying to smile at the look of puzzlement on Alan’s face. While shoving an elbow in Lee’s ribs, she told Alan, “May I introduce my sister’s fiancé? This is Leander Westfield. And this is Alan Hunter, my—.”
Lee cut her words off by squeezing her ribs with his hand, and even three sharp elbowings in his side didn’t make him release her. He extended his hand to Alan. “Excuse Blair, won’t you? She’s a little excited today at getting to see an old and dear friend. I am her intended. She and I are to be married in two weeks, actually less than that now, isn’t it, dear? Just a few short days and you will become Mrs. Leander Westfield. I know the anticipation is making you a bit nervous and forgetful, but let’s not give your friend the wrong impression.” He smiled angelically at Alan.
“This isn’t the way it seems,” Blair began. “This man is crazy, and he has some very strange ideas.” With one big push, she managed to move away from Lee. “Alan, let’s go somewhere and talk. I have a great deal to tell you.”
Alan looked up at Lee, who was several inches taller than he. “I think we do need to talk.” He held his arm out to her. “Shall we go?” He looked over his shoulder at Lee. “You may carry my bags, young man.”
Lee successfully pushed himself between the couple. “I would generally take great delight in carrying the bags of a friend of my wife-to-be, but today I have a little problem. Yesterday, I had to walk four miles in new shoes, and my feet are too blistered to endure any extra weight. My doctor has insisted that I put no stress on them. Come along, Blair, we’ll meet your little friend at the carriage.”
“You beast!” Blair spat up at him as he pulled her toward the carriage. “And just what doctor would prescribe an asinine remedy like that?”
“Dr. Westfield at your service,” he said, as he helped her into the carriage.
“That’s an unusual horse,” Alan said as he threw his bags in the back, referring to the appaloosa that pulled Lee’s carriage.
“The only one in this area,” Lee said proudly. “Wherever I go, people can see that horse and recognize it, so if they need help, they can find me.”
“What kind of help?” Alan asked, as he climbed into the carriage.
“I’m a doctor,” Lee answered, as he cracked the whip over the horse and sent the buggy flying before Alan was fully seated next to Blair.
It was a hair-raising ride that Lee took them on, and the citizens of Chandler, thinking he was on an emergency case, moved out of his way. He halted in front of the house he’d bought for Houston.
“I thought this would be a good place to talk.”
Blair’s eyes widened. She hadn’t seen the house since the night she and Lee’
d…“I need to talk to Alan, not you, and definitely not here.”
“The scene of the crime, so to speak? Well, I guess we could go to Miss Emily’s Tea Shop. She has a private room.”