Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) (30 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

T
abitha jerked around when somebody tapped on her window. Susanna stood waiting, a basket over her arm. Ready for some company after her semiquiet Sunday, Tabitha hurried to unlock the door.

“Happy Monday morning,” Susanna said, her face full of questions. “I was thrilled to see your shades rolled up even if it’s only eight. I haven’t gotten a chance to speak with you alone since the wedding.” She glanced around. “Is Hunter here?”

“No. He was gone when I got up. The place was warm and he’d made a pot of coffee.”

Susanna came in and closed the door. “Very nice. How is married life treating you? Do you have any questions?” She searched Tabitha’s face so long Tabitha knew her cheeks must be red from their tingling warmth. “Well?”

“You’re still a newlywed, Susanna. If I had questions, I’d ask Hannah, or Brenna, or Jessie.” What else could she say? Her friends might not like the bargain she’d struck with her groom.

Susanna winked. “Believe me, you most certainly
can
ask me as well. But—I can see you’re too shy to talk right now. All things in their time.” She looked around, smiled. “Come with me over to the sheriff’s office. This business with Rock Springs has Albert on edge. He left for the office without eating. I want to drop this by.”

“I’m surprised you’re not already at the restaurant.”

“I traded shifts with Roberta, so she opened for me. Nate’s been struggling with some of his schooling, so I wanted to help him study for a test today.”

Girl time sounded good. Tabitha could get back to poster making after she took a little walk, even if it was just next door. “I’d like that. Let me get my shawl from upstairs.”

A minute later, Albert looked up from his desk when she and Susanna stepped through the door. He smiled and stood, circling his desk to greet his wife with a kiss. He gave Tabitha a smile and a nod.

“I’m glad you stopped in,” Albert said, his voice serious. “Telegram arrived this morning. Thom and I need to go to Rock Springs. Tensions have boiled over with the whites and Chinese. A man’s been killed. Sheriff over there doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold off a full-fledged riot, but would like to try. He’s calling in as much law enforcement as he can.”

“Albert,” Susanna said, placing the basket of food on his desk to take his arm as if that would keep him safe. “I don’t like the sound of that. Do you have to go? It’s so dangerous.”

Tabitha didn’t like the sound of it either. Men dying for nothing. Why couldn’t the locals and the migrants all just get along?

“I’m sorry, darlin’, but I do. It’s my job. Thom’s, too. We’ll be as careful as we can. Don’t know when we’ll be back, though. I hope in a day or two.”

Thom came through the door.

“We all set?” Albert asked.

Thom nodded.

Susanna slipped into Albert’s arms and laid her head on his chest.

“It’ll be fine, honey. I’ll send a telegram as soon as I can if we’re going to be longer.” His hands rubbed up and down her back, and Tabitha couldn’t help but feel warmth behind her eyes herself.

Albert and Thom were so brave to go off, knowing what might lie ahead. And poor Susanna and Hannah. Tabitha didn’t know how they could stand having their men in such danger. Hunter entered her mind, and the rumors about his past. The gunslinging and killing. That
couldn’t
be true. She didn’t believe a word, and nothing anyone could say would change her mind.

Tabitha returned to her shop to find her mother standing at the locked door. “Mother?”

“Good morning, Tabitha.”

Alarm bells went off when she saw her mother’s carpetbag sitting on the ground by her feet. “Good morning,” she responded, wondering what that might mean. Was her mother finally giving up and heading back to New York?

“I’ve come for a visit. Do you have time?”

It was still only nine. A visit? Perhaps to say goodbye. “Yes, a whole hour before I open. Come in and we can talk. Have you eaten?”

“Oh, yes. Hours ago.”

Sneaking another peek at the bag, Tabitha unlocked the door and went inside, holding it for her mother to follow. “I’ll stoke the fire and put water on for tea.”

“Actually, daughter, there’s something I need to request from you. I’d like to get it out of the way first. So I can relax.”

Tabitha halted in her tracks. Slowly turned around. She hadn’t seen her mother since Sunday morning when Hunter had spoken to her from the stairway. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if I could stay with you for a day or two.”

She’s not going home?
“Why?”

Her mother’s face crumpled. She looked away and her nostrils flared. “I can’t stay with Roberta any longer. We don’t see eye to eye on anything. She challenges everything I say. It’s not good for either of us. You have an extra bedroom. I’d be ever so grateful if I could have a nice visit with my only child.”

Stunned, Tabitha thought of the extra room laden with all of Hunter’s belongings. “What about Uncle Frank? He has a guest room.”

Her mother’s lips wobbled and she cast her gaze to the floor. “Please don’t ask me to go there. He mentioned that he’d recently had an infestation of mice, more than his cats could contain. You know how I can’t abide those critters. My skin crawls just thinking about them.”

“What about the El Dorado? The rooms are beautiful. I know you’d be very comfortable.”

“I knew I should have went there first and not bothered you.”

“It’s because of Hunter. We’re just married.”

Her mother walked to the window chair and lowered herself down. “I guess I won’t be too humiliated to stay in the hotel even when everyone knows my daughter has a perfectly fine guest room. I understand, Tabitha. I do. And I don’t hold it against you at all.”

Tabitha’s mind warred with reality and guilt. It wasn’t right to ask this of Hunter. Not after all he’d already done for her. Sacrificed for her. Her mother’s shoulders began to quiver. She was getting on in age. “How long would you be staying?”

“Just a handful of days. Since there isn’t anything I can do now that you’ve gone and married that mountain man, I’ll be leaving at the end of the week.”

What to do? In the large scheme of things, it was only a few days, and then she’d be gone. Maybe they could make up, mend their relationship. That was doubtful, but Tabitha would like to try. It was the right thing to do. She just prayed Hunter would see it the same.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

H
unter dipped the last bar glass into the rinse water and set it upside down on a dishrag that looked as if it could use a good scrubbing. He straightened. Stretched his aching back muscles, then dried his hands. Three men stood at the bar and two occupied one table. Dichelle had brought in a boatload of men Saturday night, and he and Kendall had cleared a hundred and fifty-eight dollars after all was said and done. Tonight was a different story. No spillover whatsoever. Perhaps growing the Bright Nugget’s earning ability was a losing battle. Or maybe he was just tired. He’d stayed away from Storybook Lodge all day. Soon, though, he’d have to face Tabitha. She’d see the difference in him. She’d be able to tell that he longed to hold her again, kiss her lips. His troubling thoughts about his new wife had him skeptical he’d ever again find firm footing.

Kendall clomped down the stairs. “Morning!”

“You loco? It’s after supper,” Buckskin shouted back.

Kendall stopped at the bottom of the stairs and rubbed a hand over his face, clearing away the sleep cobwebs. “That all-day nap sure felt good. I highly recommend it to everyone.” He smiled at Hunter. “I guess having a partner has a few advantages.”

Going to the end of the bar, Hunter untied his apron and set the wadded cloth on the top of the countertop. He reached for his coat but didn’t put it on for the short walk home. “Good night, gentlemen.”
I wonder if there’ll be supper of any kind to speak of? We never discussed any topics of importance.
He gave a mental shrug.
If not, I guess my earnings can buy another meal at the Silky Hen.

“Good night, lover boy,” Clyde replied. “Sleep tight.”

Buckskin laughed and slapped his leg. He picked up his empty glass in anticipation of the change in shift. Hunter had asked Kendall not to keep feeding Buckskin and Clyde until they were cross-eyed drunk, but Hunter had the sneaking suspicion Kendall did whatever he wanted when he wasn’t around.

“Hold up,” Kendall called when he was about to leave. He hurried over.

“What is it, Kendall, I’m tired.”

Kendall stared at him for a long time.

“You got something to say, say it.”

The bartender cleared his throat, then began softly so no one else could hear. “It ain’t been so bad having a partner. The boon last Saturday night was due to you thinkin’ it up.”

“And my hard work.”

He nodded. “That’s right. And now, today, I haven’t had time off like that since I don’t remember when . . .”

“Do you have a point you’re trying to make here, Kendall, or is this some way to keep me—”

The man’s mouth flattened out. “What I’m trying to say is I’m sorry.”

Hunter pulled back. What was this about? “What are you talking about?”

“I,” he began, then looked at the floor. “I spread some lies about you. When you first come to town and I was fit to be tied. I told a few loose lips around town that you were a gunman, a killer. I’d sent a telegram to Soda Springs, to my friend, but he said you had a reputation of being hard, but fair. That men were scared of you because you were fast, but he didn’t know of any wrongdoing.”

And now everything makes sense. The looks. The apprehension.

“Say something, will ya?”

“Nothin’ to say, Kendall,” he responded slowly. He set his hand on Kendall’s shoulder, and smiled into the bartender’s remorse-etched face. “People will have to judge me for themselves. Decide what to believe. Don’t lose too much sleep over it. What’s done is done.”

It took less than a minute to reach Storybook Lodge. The shades were pulled and the signs were turned or brought in an hour ago. He thought back to the morning when he’d first come by, helping Miss Hoity-Toity out with the heavy sign. Her smile had done funny things to his insides even then. His comments had turned her face a pretty pink. He should have turned tail and run for the hills. Things sure would be a lot easier.

Tabitha looked up from the kitchen when he stepped inside. She was stirring something on the stove.

“Beef stew,” she said, a nervous smile on her lips.

It annoyed Hunter that he could read her expressions so well.

“Hungry?”

“I am,” he replied, unstrapping his gun belt and laying the weapon on the small table by the front door. He stared at the Colt for several long moments, understanding Roberta’s narrow-eyed gaze in the bookstore. She would have made sure her niece had heard the juicy news about him, Hunter had no doubt. He started for the stairs still holding his coat.

Tabitha hurried over and extracted the garment from his grasp. “I’ll take that for you.”

“No need. I can do—”

“You go sit by the window and I’ll serve up your supper just as soon as I get back. I’m sure your feet must be tired, standing all day in the saloon.” When he hesitated, she gave his arm a nudge. “Go on, Hunter. I’ll be right down.”

Feeling the hair on the back of his neck prickle, he glanced up.

Halfway down the staircase, Marigold eyed him warily. Seeing her expression, he felt the same. He looked back at Tabitha.

“It’s only for a few days. You don’t mind, do you?”

What did Tabitha do with my belongings in the extra bedroom?

He felt his ire raise its ugly head, but Tabitha’s beseeching gaze kept him quiet.

“Mr. Wade. Home from a long day of salooning?”

Again, his gaze snared his wife’s.

“Mother, please keep your comments to yourself, unless they’re nice.”

“What’s not nice about what I said?”

Without another word, Hunter went to the one and only comfortable chair in the room, but as he was about to sit, he realized he should save it for Tabitha’s mother. He turned and went to Tabitha’s desk, pulled out her straight-backed chair, and sat. Marigold followed him and took the flowered chair with a satisfied grin.

“Ah, this is enjoyable,” she said. “I’ll have a chance to get to know my son-in-law. I didn’t think that was going to happen. How are you, Hunter? May I call you that?”

He nodded. “You can call me anything you like. Is Marigold fine with you? Or do you prefer Mother?”

“Anything at all. I’m just pleased to be here.”

That’s a switch.

She smiled.

He accepted a large bowl of stew from Tabitha, and held it on his lap until she’d served her mother. When she went back for her own, he realized there wasn’t a chair for her. Standing, he went to the stool Nate had used and slid it through his legs.

“No, Hunter, you needn’t—”

“This is fine. You sit at your desk. Tomorrow I’ll see what I might be able to rig up for a small table.”

They ate in silence, after which he followed Tabitha into the kitchen to help with the dishes. “What did you do with my belongings?” he asked quietly as her mother dozed in the chair.

“After the decision was made that she would stay, I sent her to the mercantile for a few things for supper. Thank goodness I own an extra set of sheets. I’ve never changed a bed so quickly in my life. Don’t be angry with me, Hunter. Please.”

“I just don’t understand why she’s here. I thought she couldn’t stand me. I’d think this was the last place she’d want to stay.”

“She and my aunt can’t get along for more than a few days at a time.”

“What about your uncle? Wouldn’t she be more comfortable there?”

“She won’t stay with Uncle Frank, because he’s having some problems with mice. She all but broke down when I suggested the hotel. I can promise you I tried to avoid this. For your sake . . .”
For our sake.
“Hunter?”

“When you put it like that, I guess a few days won’t hurt. What about tonight?”

A stain rose up in her cheeks. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get—”

“We’re pretty well there, Miss Hoity-Toity. You better start thinking. That note we wrote to the preacher won’t be worth squat after one week. This whole charade has gotten involved.”

The warm stew had mellowed him considerably. His crankiness was replaced with a feeling of home. The evening sounds of the night. How pretty Tabitha looked with her hands in a dishpan of water and wisps of her hair stuck to her moist forehead. Even with Marigold out in the chair snoring away like she were sawing a wood pile, reminding him of Clyde, there was something special about tonight.

Finished wiping down the boards, Tabitha folded the dish towel she’d used to dry her hands and set it in its place. What were they going to do to pass the time until it was time to turn in?

“How about if you help me with a little of my reading?”

Her eyes widened, and a smile blossomed on her lips. “Wonderful. Do you know where your book is?”

“Somewhere with my belongings.”

“Then it’s in my room now. Wait here and I’ll get it.”

Hunter quietly brought the stool over to the desk thinking how awkward it was going to be on the stool while trying to sound out words, but they didn’t have much choice. The only other chair was occupied by her mother, or they could go upstairs and sit together on the bed. He wasn’t going to chance that with all these warm family feelings rumbling around in his chest. No sir, not at the moment.