“Goddamn!”
“Jessseeee,” Tori said as she poured coffee into her cup. She motioned toward Paul. “Language.”
“As if he’s never heard the word before,” he huffed.
“Not from his father’s lips.”
He turned to Paul. “Sorry, son. Your mother’s right. A gentleman doesn’t swear.”
Tori ignored the humorous look that passed between father and son. Even if they did use that language when she wasn’t around, she could pretend they didn’t.
“What I’d like to know is how the person who is feeding the newspaper this information knows almost more than we do. I’m assuming Hunter’s Emily is looking at divorce, but that’s just an educated guess for me.” He took a sip of his coffee. “And what does this mysterious circumstances mean? He was injured! Nothing mysterious about that.”
“Don’t they have to check their facts before they print them?” Paul asked.
“Unfortunately, no, they don’t have to. But an ethical journalist would. And since they haven’t flat out identified me as the ‘supporter,’ I can’t even make a case for libel.”
“How is Mr. Stubb’s campaign going?” Even at seventeen, Paul had always been way beyond his years. Being the oldest of four must have had something to do with that.
“Frankly, I need to spend more time campaigning for him. As soon as I finish the case I’m working on now, I’ve arranged to have my calendar cleared until the election.”
The sound of the doorbell interrupted them. “I’ll get it,” Paul said as he pushed his chair back.
“I’m assuming our life is about to get more chaotic with you running Franklin’s campaign?”
Jesse patted her hand. “I’m afraid so, darlin’. But I’m counting on all of you to help out. Especially my womenfolk, since Franklin is a widower with no children. I know you can all charm the voters.”
Tori laughed. “Just don’t put Ellie out as his representative. Some of her ideas are a bit provocative.”
“No worries there. The women will get the vote in Oklahoma as soon as statehood passes.”
“Ah, but that’s not all Ellie and her suffragette friends are fighting for these days.”
“Good grief, what do they want now? And I thought marriage and pending motherhood would calm that girl down, and she should—”
“Dad, there’s a telegram.” Paul held out the envelope to Jesse.
“Thanks.” Jesse took the missive and opened it. He frowned as he skimmed the words. Then his jaw dropped and it appeared all the blood had left his face as he looked at Tori. “Oh my God.”
Hunter felt a bit uncomfortable as he entered Millie’s dress shop. At leas
t there were no customers present, but he hoped Millie would be willing to help him out. After the fiasco of trying to bundle Emily away the other night, he’d been frantic trying to come up with a plan.
Emily’s driver no longer sat outside in the automobile while she visited shops. He accompanied her inside and stayed with her the entire time. He’d even seen him go into friends’ houses that Emily visited. How he explained his presence was a mystery, but that was not Hunter’s worry. He had to get Emily, even if he had to snatch her off the street with a gun pointed at the driver.
A petite woman with short dark curls framing her face came out from behind a curtain at the sound of the bell hanging over the front door. “May I help you?”
“Good afternoon, ma’am. I assume you are Millie?”
She offered a soft smile. “Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Hunter Henderson.”
“Ah. Mrs. Smith’s friend.” The twinkle in her eyes encouraged him. “Why don’t you come into the back area of my store? I was about to have a cup of tea since my next appointment isn’t for another half hour.”
“Thank you.” He followed her, feeling large and awkward in such a small, feminine place. The area behind the curtain was crammed with shelves of material. Bright colors, along with prints, stripes, and flowered fabrics almost hurt his eyes.
A Singer Sewing machine held a prominent place in the tiny area. Tins of ribbons and buttons sat open on shelves and tables. She waved him to a chair, which he took, wondering if the delicate piece would collapse under his weight.