“You won’t tell Kane? I’m quite sure he won’t be understanding in the least.”
“I’m sure that’s an understatement. No, I won’t tell him if you swear to only deliver potatoes and not get involved with the unions. And about this seditious magazine you women want to start—.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek to cut him off. “Thank you so much, Edan. You are a true friend. Now I must go dress for my wedding.” Before he could speak, she was at the door, but paused, her hand on the knob. “What did you mean about Kane’s connection to the Fentons?”
“I thought you knew. Jacob Fenton’s younger sister, Charity, was Kane’s mother.”
“No,” she said softly. “I didn’t know.” She left the room.
Houston was in her bedroom only minutes when Sarah Oakley said, as she held out Houston’s wedding dress, “I just saw the oddest thing.”
“What was that?”
“I thought it was Kane in the garden wearing his old clothes, but instead it was a boy who looks like him.”
“Ian,” Houston said with a smile. “He did come.”
“If there’s anything left of him,” Nina said, looking over the rail. “Two of the Randolph boys and Meredith’s two brothers started laughing at him and your Ian attacked them.”
Houston’s head came up. “Four against one?”
“At least that many. Now they’ve gone behind a tree and I can’t see them.”
Houston took her hands off the wedding dress Sarah was still holding and went to the window. “Where are they now?”
“There,” Nina pointed. “See the commotion in the shrubs? That’s one heck of a fight going on.”
Leaning far out the window, Houston surveyed the garden area. Most of the scene was hidden from the house by trees.
“I’ll send someone to stop the fight,” Sarah was saying.
“And humiliate a Taggert?” Houston said, going to the closet. “Not on your life.” She again pulled on her dark blue satin dressing gown.
“What in the world are you planning, Houston?” Sarah gasped.
“I am going to stop a fight and save a Taggert from a fate worse than death: humiliation. There’s no one in the back.”
“Just a few dozen waiters and guests and . . . ” Nina said.
“Houston, dear, aren’t there some fireworks downstairs? If someone were to light them it would create a diversion,” Opal said softly. She knew from experience that it was useless to tell her daughter that she needed to get dressed. Not when one of her girls wore that expression.
“I’m on my way,” Nina called, running out the door as Houston put her foot out the window and onto the rose trellis.
The east lawn was alive with the explosive noise of fireworks, with early guests all looking that way, as Houston made her way diagonally across the stretch of west lawn and into the trees.
Deep in the shade of a grove of black walnut trees, Ian Taggert uselessly fought the four stout boys on top of him.
“Stop that!” Houston said in her sternest voice.
Not one boy paid her the least attention.
She moved into the flailing arms and legs, grabbed an ear and pulled. Jeff Randolph came up swinging but stopped when he saw Houston. She motioned him to stand back while she went after George and Alex Lechner, pulling up both boys by their ears.
Only Steve Randolph remained on top of Ian and when Houston touched Steve’s ear, he came up flying, an uncomprehending mass of rage. The three boys standing in the background gasped when Steve sent a fist sailing toward Houston’s jaw. She ducked and, seeing no other way, decked young Steven with a right. Months of handling a four-horse wagon had given her quite a bit of strength in her arms.
For a moment, no one could move as Steve slowly fell across Ian’s legs.
Houston recovered first. “Steve!” she said, kneeling, slapping the boy’s face. “Are you all right?”