Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) (31 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

T
om pre-presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open window in a p-pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined,” Hunter read softly, his back aching from sitting on the high stool next to Tabitha, as he bent forward.

His wife sat at his side, looking at her own book, while he read quietly aloud, so as not to wake her mother. When he’d balked at reading aloud, she’d said it was good practice to hear his own voice as well as let his mouth form the unfamiliar words. He wondered how she knew so much about reading, but he
was
getting better, so he dare not argue. From her wide selection of books, she came up with a heck of a lot of facts he’d never heard. Best not to question her unless he wanted to be proven wrong.

He smiled inwardly. There were a few things he could teach her, if she were so inclined. He lifted his palm to his cheek as if the sting of her slap had just happened. Unfortunately, he knew exactly where his wife stood on such matters.

“I guess I shouldn’t have chosen this book,” she whispered, leaning in close, her light scent distracting his concentration. “I forgot about all the slang and hyphenated words. I can choose another if you’d like. Something that will flow more easily.”

“What? And give this up now?” Hunter lifted his head, pretending horror, all the while taking in her soft beauty, alight with the conviction to help. “After I’ve struggled through three whole chapters? Nothin’ doing. Besides, I want to know what happens. The story has caught my interest.”

“All right. Other than the chopped-up dialect, you’re doing a fine job. I must say, I’ve enjoyed listening to you.” She glanced to the darkened town just past her rolled-down shades. “Logan Meadows sure is quiet tonight.”

“Yeah, no gunshots from the saloon.”

“Which makes me very happy.”

He cocked a brow. “I know it does, Miss Hoity-Toity. I could go over and shoot off my Colt since Albert is away. That would liven things up a bit.”

She laughed. “You’re teasing, I know.”

“Guess I am.”

She didn’t flinch when he reached over and fingered a wisp of her hair that had fallen into her face. It hurt that she thought him a killer. He didn’t care about anyone else—let them think what they would. It was her opinion that mattered. “I learned something tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Kendall confessed to me that he’d slandered my name. He’s sorry now, and I’ve forgiven him, just didn’t want you to—”

Her eyes widened. She knew exactly what he was referring to. “Kendall! I felt in my heart those rumors were false.” She swallowed and glanced away for a moment, then slowly turned back to his gaze. “I’ll admit at first, I didn’t know what to think exactly, but as time went on I knew they couldn’t be true. I should have told you right away.”

Her sincerity healed a part of the wound. “Yes, you should have.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m just glad the truth came out.” The warm stew had made him drowsy. Her mother slept on in the chair by the window. He looked at the clock. Seven twenty-five. With the little sleep he’d gotten the night before, the soft bed was sounding better than ever. Too bad he didn’t have a soft bed to his name anymore.

Hunter yawned, stretched back, and rubbed a hand across his face. What on earth was Tabitha going to do with him tonight? It wasn’t right to ask him to sleep on the floor. Not after all he’d sacrificed for her.

“Oh, my,” a wobbly voice said.

Mother.
Tabitha glanced over. Her mother’s eyes were open and she was watching them with a curious expression.

“I must have fallen asleep,” she admitted.

“You did,” Tabitha said. “Over an hour ago. It’s almost seven thirty.”

“Then I shall turn in.” She grimaced as she tried to raise her head off the back of the cushion. “Ow . . . I’m as stiff as an old scarecrow. This knee is getting worse with each passing year.”

Without being asked, Hunter stood and went over to the chair. He held out both his hands. Her mother hesitated for a couple of heartbeats, and then placed her own inside of his. Tabitha watched in stunned silence. Waiting patiently until her mother was stable on her feet, Hunter helped her climb the stairs to her bedroom.

“Good night, Tabitha,” she called. “Sweet dreams.”

Sadness at hearing the old sentiment made Tabitha drop her gaze back to her book. “Good night, Mother,” she called back. “You sleep well, too.”

Her mother’s familiar chuckle floated down the staircase. Hunter must have said something. In a moment he was back.

“That was kind of you.”

“What?”

He honestly didn’t seem to know. “You helping my mother after the trouble she’s caused.”

He shrugged. “Holding a grudge only hurts the grudge holder.”

“Thorp?”

He nodded. “I’m mighty tired myself. Have you decided where I’m going to sleep? I could take a blanket to Win’s hayloft. I don’t mind.”

“I can’t ask that of you! It’s October. Besides, someone might see you. That would be pretty difficult to explain away.”

“Well? What else do you have in mind?”

“I’ve read lots of stories where unmarried couples roll up a blanket and put it between them to separate the—”

“Roll up a blanket? That’s ridiculous. That wouldn’t stop an amorous prairie dog. It certainly wouldn’t stop me.”

The way his gaze lingered on her lips had her thinking of the kiss. The second kiss. The one last night at the shivaree. The kiss that had brought a barrage of wayward thoughts, and even tingles in places she didn’t know she had. “No? Well, then, I’ll take my chair in the corner of my bedroom. It’s very comfortable. Then you can have the bed.”

“I didn’t say I was going to take advantage of you. I said a rolled-up blanket wouldn’t stop me if I wanted to—” He clamped his mouth closed. “Go get yourself ready for bed, and put up the blockade if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll undress after you’re safely tucked away under the covers. You can trust me. You have
nothing
to worry about.”

He made it sound like taking advantage of her was the very last thing he’d ever want. Hurt, she headed to the back door. Taking a lantern, she used the privy, then proceeded up the stairs. How had everything gotten so mixed up? She went quietly past her mother’s room and then to the armoire on the far wall, still chilled from being outside. Pulling out both her extra blankets, she dropped them on her bed. She was twenty-nine years old and more than a little curious about the marriage act. If Hunter was still interested in her, he would have said something when they’d gotten married. Wouldn’t he? Surely, he wasn’t that insecure about being turned down again, not at his age. Nothing had been the same since the slap. It was almost as if he’d been expecting it.

Confused, and riddled with wanton desires, she stripped out of her dress and donned her nightgown. As quickly as she could in the chilly room, she rolled up the extra blankets, placed them down the center of the bed, and crawled under the quilts, the cold sheet chilling her further.

Tired from a long day on her feet, Daisy removed her apron, her muscles aching from leaning over the sink at the Silky Hen. She stretched and then arched her back.

“I didn’t think we’d ever finish up,” Susanna said, watching her over her shoulder as she spread out the coals of the stove. “Thank you for doing the majority of the pots and pans. I promise I’ll do them all tomorrow.”

Daisy smiled. “That’s no problem. I’m taking my dirty apron, and the others in the hamper, over to the Lings. Does yours need washing?”

Susanna stood and inspected her apron. “No, ma’am. It’s good for another day. You sure you want to go over now? It’s dark. And besides, the front door will be locked.”

“It’s not that I want to, but there aren’t any clean aprons left. Hannah dropped off five last week. They should be ready. The Lings don’t mind if I use the back door.”

“Daisy . . .”

“It’s just across the street.” She unfolded her normally white apron, which was spotted with gravy. “I can’t wear this another day. It’s disgraceful. We need clean and fresh for the morning. I’m waitressing.”

Susanna’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Won’t take more than four minutes. From there I’ll go home. Is Win coming to walk you home since Albert’s away?”

Susanna nodded. “You come back and he’ll walk you as well.”

“That’s silly. I’m just behind the hotel, you’re much farther away down the street and across the bridge. Stop worrying.”

The two women went to the front door, Daisy’s hands filled with soiled aprons and a few tablecloths. Susanna watched her cross the street. A warm glow shone from inside the laundry house. When Daisy got to the alley, she turned and waved her friend back inside. From where she was, she heard the click of the restaurant’s front lock.

She pushed ahead in the darkened alley. Light from Main Street illumined the passage halfway through. Fifteen feet past the end was the Lings’ shanty, a light burning inside. Bao would be home putting Lan to bed, but Tap would still be hard at work, and maybe Jake’s mother as well. Daisy hadn’t met the woman, but as each day passed, and as her lonesomeness at missing Jake mounted, she’d wondered if she should arrange a chance.

With a breath of relief, she rounded the corner of the brick building and pulled open the back door. A mouse, or something else, skittered away from under Daisy’s foot, causing Daisy to yelp in fright.

Mr. Ling jerked up from his ironing board. The woman who must be Jake’s mother scrambled to her feet from the wash tub where she’d been working.

Tap Ling started her way. “Miss Daisy! You hurt?”

Embarrassed, Daisy came forward. “No, I’m sorry. A mouse startled me.” She glanced at Jake’s mother. “I have the dirty laundry and wondered if I could pick up the clean. We don’t have anything for tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I will show—”

“I know where they are, Mr. Ling,” the woman said. “I put them away this morning. Please follow me, miss.”

Mr. Ling nodded and went back to his ironing.

At a table of folded linen, Jake’s mother took the dirty linen from Daisy and replaced them with a stack of tablecloths topped with several aprons. They were all nicely pressed.

“This should be all of it,” she said. Strands of hair had come loose from her bun and wafted in front of her face.

Compassion moved through Daisy. “I’m Daisy,” she said, not knowing if Jake had said anything to her about them.

“I know. I’ve seen you come and go in the restaurant across the street. You’re Jake’s girl.”

They stood silently in the dim interior for several awkward moments.

“That’s right.” No one had spoken outright about the horrible way she’d treated Jake, but Daisy had put the pieces together. “I love Jake. I’ll take good care of him.”

She nodded, and in the shadowy room, Daisy thought she saw the woman’s lips pull down in sorrow. The heart was capable of so much love and so much pain, and yet Daisy didn’t have the words to bridge the expanse between the two. Instead, she turned with the linens, eager to be home. “Thank you.”

The back door in the dark room squeaked closed. Daisy darted her gaze to see Mr. Ling still at his work, then over to Jake’s mother. “Did you see somebody go out the door?”