He gave her his slow, sweet smile, full of heat and conviction. “Ahuh. Don’t have much choice in the matter, now, do I?”
Lifting her tearstained, woebegone face from the damp handkerchief, Letty stared. “You’re taking his side? Oh, Paul! I thought I could count on you, at least!”
“Now, don’t go lookin’ like you’ve lost your last friend on earth. I realize I’m outnumbered against you two ladies—and my male views may not count for much, anyway—but you’ll get through this, Letty, and things will eventually turn out all right.”
She sniffled, jerked back a sob, and re-applied the handkerchief. “So you—s-s-s-say.”
“So I know. One of life’s lessons, Letty, and I’m givin’ it to you for free. How’s that coffee?”
“T-T-Terrible.”
“Paul, dearest, you know how putrid the stuff tastes. Don’t you ever wash that pot?”
Grinning sheepishly, he scratched his head as if perplexed. “Funny, Doc said the same thing. If you didn’t want me to give the girl some coffee, then why did you order me to do it?”
She flashed him a small secretive smile. “To keep you occupied. And it wasn’t an order.”
“Ahuh. Coulda fooled me. You feelin’ a mite better, Letty?”
“I suppose.”
Molly hiked up her skirts to perch her luscious bottom on the edge of Paul’s desk—an inappropriate maneuver she never would have attempted in the presence of others. “What are you going to do?” she asked her sister tenderly.
“I’m not sure,” came an answer all the more poignant for being so forlorn. “At this point, I don’t even know where Reese and I stand, betrothal-wise. But I can tell you this.” Here her voice gathered strength and resolution, as she pulled herself erect. “I am not about to seek out that—that miserable varmint, wherever he is or whatever he is doing. He will have to come to me!”
Chapter Eleven
IT WAS A STUNNING AUTUMN afternoon two days later, with just a nip of coolness in the air, when Ben and Camellia returned from Manifest. Judging by their expressions, as they trotted into town, it was either a remarkably successful trip or one holding particular significance. Camellia’s face shone with radiance, and Ben wore a look of almost smug satisfaction. Business travel, or belated honeymoon?
Ben parked in the sycamore’s welcome shade long enough to escort his bride inside their home, and to haul in their valises and what-nots (Camellia’s luggage, in particular, strained even his mighty muscles, though he refused to admit it). A quick trip to see Abel Norton, settle the horse and buggy, and pay the bill, and he could tramp back to the house which had never held such pleasure and contentment as now, with his wife moved in.
Within no time at all, word swept round through the family, and those close to being family, that the couple were back in, apparently, fine fettle.
Molly was the first to arrive, trailing Paul, who had left his two deputies in charge at the jail, behind her. Paul, looking rather sheepish at the notion of serving as someone’s errand boy, was carrying a large covered pan of roast beef and vegetables, procured from the Sarsaparilla for the benefit of all who would gather at the Forrester homestead this evening.
Next came Hannah, striding along in her second-best dress of pinstripes and primness. She had thoughtfully stopped at the bakery for cornbread muffins and a box full of magnificent chocolate layer cake. Always sure to offer a warm welcome to weary travelers and hungry guests, alike.
The doctor ambled in shortly after. Much earlier, he had been called to a cabin on the outskirts of town, where consultation was needed for a patient running an unexplained high fever and suffering from headache. Gabe, in considering all possibilities, could not rule out diphtheria. To be on the safe side, he had quarantined the young man; and everyone, including himself, had washed thoroughly with a solution of diluted carbolic acid. He had arrived back at the office to wash again and change his clothing from the skin out.
Last to arrive was Letitia, who had separated from her sister long enough to fetch two bottles of fruit wine from the mercantile. All the while doing her best to avoid running into, or even catching glimpse of from a distance, her former suitor. Not to worry—no single sighting anywhere. Apparently Reese Barclay had disappeared off the face of the earth. Was she relieved—or disappointed?
So, aside from Letty’s downcast mood, which she did her best to put aside for benefit of the occasion, it was a merry group who assembled in the Forrester downstairs. Cool enough to warrant a fire on the hearth, where the cavorting flames, occasional snap of burning wood, and fragrant, pungent scent added to the ambiance. It was certainly a party atmosphere.
Glasses were poured full of the delicious light wine and lifted high in toasts: to the prodigals’ safe return, to the coming marriage of Paul and Molly, to the happiness and settlement of the growing Burton clan. Then the males went for the stronger stuff—namely Ben’s favorite bourbon, retrieved from the study—while the ladies prepared a supper that was, happily, already prepared. It but needed dishing up, with plates and napkins put out and chairs pulled together.
“What exactly did you get done, down at your new store?” Gabriel, digging into the pot roast, wanted to know.
“Wanna pass that platter over this way, Gabe, or are you gonna hog the whole meal yourself?”
Time away had dulled neither Ben’s drollery nor his opinion of the doctor’s prodigious appetite. “Well, now, first thing was inspection, makin’ sure everything had gotten done to the buildin’ that I’d asked for, and some changes made.”
“And were they?”
“Nope.”
“They were,” put in Camellia, with a twinkle, “after Ben threw a perfectly horrible temper tantrum.”
“I did no such thing,” he said placidly.