Jane Bonander (19 page)

Axel reddened. “My… um … horse is around back.”

“I see.” He really didn’t. His deputy had always been a nervous kid, but today he was more skittish than usual.

Perhaps he should have told Vern about the possibility of Thief River getting a railroad. Unfortunately, he’d learned that Vern was as gossipy as an old woman. It wasn’t wise to tell him something that might have no truth to it at all.

S
itting at a back table in a Eureka bar, Jackson sipped gut-ripping black coffee while his father nursed a beer. Their trip had been enlightening.

“So,” Nathan began, “right here in this very bar, your banker, Mr. Frost, has lost nearly a quarter of a million dollars.”

And Jackson had learned the names of the other regulars in the game. He’d memorized them: Barny Wilson, a local merchant; Howard Spellman, a rancher; Cleb Hartman, a farmer down near Thief River; and Joseph Kincaid, the local newspaperman.

Nathan swore and shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone dropping that kind of money. Hell, might just as well toss it down a shithouse hole.”

Jackson’s smile was dry. He’d known a couple of mercenaries over the years who’d had a similar problem. Unable to get their gambling hunger under control, they had found themselves constantly broke, always sniffing around for another way to make money, merely to lose it again. One of them had told him it was the possibility of winning big that egged him on. There was always that chance, he’d said. Jackson never understood the lure.

“Well, even though I still don’t have proof, I can guess that’s where all my money went,” Jackson answered, resigned. “It isn’t hard to figure that if Frost somehow discovered there was to be a railroad built through some pastureland, it would give him the opportunity to cash in.”

“Yeah,” Nathan answered with a harsh laugh. “And turn around, only to lose it all again.”

Jackson feared that he would never see his daughter’s money again. “I’ve somehow got to prove that Frost took it. That won’t be easy.”

“You can do it,” his father said. “Now, however, I think you’d better hightail it home. In a few days you’ll be a married man.”

Nervousness ate at Jackson’s insides. “You sure you can leave the ranch again so soon? You know I want you there, but—”

“We wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world. Anyway,” his father added, a sly smile spreading across his face, “your mother would never forgive me if she couldn’t be there.”

Jackson wished he felt the same enthusiasm. He knew Libby didn’t. Maybe things would change once they were married. He could only hope.

The first rain of the season spattered the windows as Libby studied her reflection in the mirror. How fitting that it should rain on her wedding day. She lifted an eyebrow, seeing the irony in it. Catching Mahalia’s gaze of approval as it wandered over her gown, she said, “You did a wonderful job on my dress, Mahalia.”

Mahalia stood behind her, her arms crossed over her ample chest. “I did, didn’t I? It just needs a few more little tucks, and it’ll be done.”

Libby smoothed her palms over the magnolia silk. Gone were the geegaws, the roses, the frippery, and the bustle. The gown fit with sheathlike closeness. The lace Mahalia had so callously ripped from the hem was now stitched to the puffed sleeves, creating snug bands that came to a V just below her wrists. Another piece made a high collar. The bustle had been transformed into a graceful train.

Though modest with its high neckline and long sleeves, the gown was provocative and breathtaking.

“It’s lovely, Mahalia. Thank you.” Too lovely to waste on a day she’d come to dread, she decided.

But it was too late for regrets. Jackson’s family had returned the night before. Libby’s dress was done, the flowers were arranged, the guests had begun to arrive, and there was enough food for an army.

On a wistful sigh, Libby carefully removed the gown and threw on a wrapper, then sat at the dressing table to fix her hair.

“I’m gonna take the dress downstairs and finish it up. I also gotta see to it that the eats is ready for the reception. Chloe Ann and Corey’s mama are helpin’ me with that.” Mahalia chuckled. “Them two is gettin’ along real good.”

On a smile, Libby responded, “Chloe Ann and Corey have become quite a couple, haven’t they?”

Mahalia made a sound in her throat. “Yes, indeed. And unlike you and Mistah Wolfe, them two is like lovebirds. A body would think it was them that was gettin’ married instead of you two.”

Their affection for each other was evident to everyone. In some ways, Libby envied them. To fall in love without the anguish she was going through would certainly make life a lot simpler.

“They have no obstacles between them, Mahalia, and they’re very much in love.”

“I think Mistah Wolfe’s feelin’s for you go deeper than you think, honey.”

Oh, that it were true, Libby thought, swallowing a sigh. “What makes you say that?”

“I see him watchin’ you. When you come into a room, his eyes follow you like they was magnetized.”

A flutter of hope. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Which was a lie, if she thought about it. Each time they saw each other, she felt something and sensed he felt it, too. Hah! It was probably their mutual animosity. After she’d informed him they wouldn’t share a bed, he’d made it quite clear that he wouldn’t try to change her mind.

“I can’t believe you ain’t noticed, honey.”

“Mahalia, you don’t know the half of it. Just … leave it alone.”

Mahalia expelled a long, noisy sigh on her way to the door. “If you say so. I just don’t understand you white folk. Always mincin’ around, never sayin’ what you mean, expectin’ everyone to read your minds. Lordy, I don’t know how y’all get anythin’ done, much less get together long enough to have yourselves babies.”

Libby’s stomach fluttered at the mention of babies. She’d often thought about his comment regarding the possibility of her being pregnant, but she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on it. She was too uncertain of her feelings.

“If you see Dawn, send her in, will you?”

“I guess I can do that,” Mahalia answered as she disappeared into the hallway.

Libby was brushing her hair when her daughter sprinted into the room, already dressed for the ceremony. She stopped at the dressing table, her expression rapt.

“Oh, Mama, I saw the dress, and you’re going to be so beautiful.”

“Thank you, dear.” Beautiful was not how she felt, however. “As soon as I fix my hair, you can have a seat and I’ll fix yours.” She glanced at Dawn’s thick braids. “We should do something special with it today.”

Dawn began unbraiding her hair. “With combs, maybe?”

“I should think so. And I’ll make a special coronet out of my miniature chrysanthemums.”

Libby studied her daughter in the mirror. She’d made her frock from delicate pink dotted swiss. The dress was the first grown-up gown Dawn had ever owned, although the puffy sleeves and ruffles added a youthful touch.

Libby swallowed a wistful sigh. Her little girl was growing up. Her hips had begun to fill out and her waist was tiny. When had this happened?

Dawn watched as Libby brushed her hair.

“Mama?”

Libby met her daughter’s gaze. “Yes?”

“When will I get to go visit Grandmama and Grandpapa?”

The invasion had begun, Libby realized, tugging wisps of hair from Dawn’s temples, letting them flutter about her face. From the beginning she’d felt coerced, and this was why. It wasn’t reasonable to feel so jealous. It would be different if the Wolfes were selfish and uncaring people.

“I thought your father would have that all arranged.” The words came out sounding petty, though she hadn’t meant them to. Had she?

“He said I had to ask you.”

That was some consolation. “Well, maybe Chloe Ann can help you get ahead in your schoolwork.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dawn agreed. “Miss Chloe Ann said it would be all right, as long as I was caught up before I left.”

Libby stopped a smile. “It seems you have it all figured out.”

“Papa said the two of you could take me up there, next week, maybe.”

Libby experienced an odd sensation in her stomach. “Oh, I don’t think I could leave the rooming house unattended, dear.”

“But Mahalia will be here, and Uncle Corey has offered to stay and help.”

Feeling cornered and frantic, Libby said, “How can your father leave the jail?”

“Mr. Roberts said he could come in and give the deputy a hand for a few days. Oh, Mama, please say yes!”

So Jackson had made certain there were no loopholes for her to wiggle through. “Why can’t your father take you there?”

“Because I want it to be the first thing we do as a family.”

Libby wound Dawn’s hair into a chignon, fastened it, then added a circle of pink mums. She tried to quell her panic. As reluctant as she’d been to marry the man, she hadn’t foreseen any of the stumbling blocks outside of Jackson himself. But as Dawn prattled on, she realized that her daughter expected far more of this union than she had even been willing to think about.

Her gaze went to the window; the storm hadn’t let up. Of all days for it to rain. She hated to think it was an omen, but the thought occurred to her anyway. Fortunately, she’d decided to have the ceremony in the large downstairs parlor. There would be no trudging through the mud to the church.

She finished Dawn’s hair. “There. You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Dawn stood and preened at her reflection. “Do you want me to get your dress?”

Libby’s stomach clenched. This was it. No reprieves. Unless Jackson decided to fly the coop, he would become her husband. “That would be lovely, dear.”

Dawn gave her a hug. “Oh, I’m so happy, Mama, this is the happiest day of my life. I’m going to write a story about it. But first I’m going to write in my journal.”

“That was a thoughtful gift from your uncle, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know how I got along without one” Dawn walked from the room, leaving Libby to question her sanity in going through with the charade.

She went to the window and watched the lacy filaments of the weeping willow tree sway in the wind. She and Jackson hadn’t talked about what would happen after this day. In fact, in the two weeks since she’d told him of her decision, they’d hardly spoken at all. It had been easier to avoid him than to be around him. Avoidance wasn’t entirely possible, of course, since he still took his meals at her table and slept under her roof.

More than once she’d found herself staring at the ceiling at midnight, wondering if he was asleep. Of course, even though they would be married, that part of their relationship wouldn’t change. No doubt she would still stare at the ceiling at midnight, wondering if he was sleeping.

Hearing a commotion downstairs, she left the window, tying her wrapper snugly around her. She hurried from her bedroom and raced down the stairs. Mahalia didn’t need any extra stress today.

She cringed. Bert and Burl stood at the kitchen door, guffawing so hard Libby feared one of them would choke.

“You worthless old fools,” Mahalia shrieked. “Help the girl catch them damned animals!”

Libby elbowed her way past the brothers just as Cyclops tore by, skidding on the polished floor.

“Lookit her skid!” Bert roared, slapping his knee.

Close in pursuit was a wet, dirty, muddy, stringy-looking Mumser.

Dawn squeezed past the men and raced from the room, her face pinched with panic. “Oh, Mama, I’m so sorry.” She ran after the animals, calling and scolding, in a frantic attempt to catch them.

Libby stared at Bert and Burl. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

The old coots wiped their eyes, attempting to muffle their laughter. “Sorry, Miz Liberty, but them animals is the best entertainment we’ve ever had ’round here.”

Libby gave them a scathing look, then stepped cautiously into the kitchen. Mahalia hadn’t stopped wailing. With a sinking feeling in her chest, Libby finally understood why.

Mahalia was on her hands and knees, bent over Libby’s wedding gown. She looked up, her face filled with anguished fury. “It’s them damned animals,” she wailed. “Look what they done to your dress! Just look!” On the perfect train that Mahalia had attached to the gown were smudged, muddy paw prints.

For some reason, seeing Mahalia in such distress made Libby calm. “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to pull Mahalia to her feet.

“Don’t worry? How can I not worry? Them damned animals has ruined everythin’!”

Libby lifted the dress onto the table and studied the muddy stains. “Did you throw away the roses?”

Mahalia huffed a weary sigh. “I shoulda. They was miserable lookin’. But they’re in my room, in a box on the sewin’ table.”

Libby retrieved them, fluffed them up to revive them, then returned with needle and thread. “We’ll simply hide the stains.” She wiped off the paw prints as best she could, then arranged the roses to cover them. “Actually, the extra weight will make the train flow better, don’t you think?” She glanced at Mahalia’s harried appearance. “You’d better get dressed. I’ll finish this.”

Mahalia clucked as she waddled to her room. “How you can be so calm is beyond me, honey.”

Libby drew in a shaky sigh. “It’s beyond me, too,” she whispered to herself.

“What’s going on in here?”

His rumbling baritone startled her. “Oh, it’s… it’s nothing. The animals tracked over my gown, that’s all.”

Jackson stood at her shoulder, his nearness causing a quickening in her stomach.

“Looks like quite a mess.”

Taking a deep breath, she briefly closed her eyes and pulled in his scent. As always, it made her heady, like a glass of wine. “It will be all right.”

“You!”

Mahalia stood in the doorway, fists on ample hips. “You,” she ordered, pointing a thick finger at Jackson, “get out of here. Go on, now. You ain’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He sounded contrite, but Libby knew that if she looked at him, she would see a twinkle in his eye. He squeezed her shoulder, then left the room.

Mahalia clucked. “Don’t you two know nothin’? It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride on her weddin’ day.”

“Oh, fine,” Libby murmured, as Mahalia marched back into her room. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

As Libby watched from the doorway, Dawn walked the short distance to the fireplace, where pots of mums graced the floor. Her gaze moved to Jackson, who beamed at his daughter. He winked, and Libby could imagine Dawn’s expression, for the look on his face caused her own heart to flutter.