Liz Ireland (5 page)

He was more disturbed by the thought that for a prospective daddy Ellie might have already decided on Parker.

The doctor came again later in the day, but as far as Ellie could tell, he didn’t even intend to look in on Roy; instead, he and Parker and Ike sat on the front stoop for a while, braving the still-blustery wind for some privacy.

She wondered if they were discussing her. After all, her arrival at the home of three bachelors was bound to have caused talk in town. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Staying under the same roof with three men probably wasn’t going to endear her to Paradise society when she finally decided to settle in on her own. She’d noticed a nice-looking hotel in town; then again, she couldn’t afford to stay in it.

Which was too bad, because it would be a relief to get away from the tension she felt here. She’d thought today might be easier, but the problem of living a lie was harder. She could have sworn Parker and Ike were eyeing her curiously this morning—but that was probably just because they’d been discussing the scene in Roy’s bedroom last night. Maybe there was even doubt in their minds about what she and Roy had been doing.

And then there was Roy himself. Roy, who she felt oddly compelled to help, since she had been the cause
of his accident. The trouble was, every time she went near him, she felt quivery and nervous under his gaze. It was as if he could see right through her.

All those questions he’d asked about her fictitious husband! She’d thought she’d die of mortification. Why hadn’t she anticipated someone would ask her about how her husband died? Having invented her status as a widow, she should have been ready for those questions. Unfortunately, when the inevitable inquiry had come, all she’d been able to do was stutter out a story. How was she going to keep track of all the falsehoods she’d built around herself?

When Ike came in, she followed him into the kitchen. “What is it, Ike? Has there been talk in town?”

Ike’s wide-eyed expression indicated the affirmative. “Boy-howdy, has there! That town is abuzz with gossip.”

“About me?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

Ike laughed. “Good lord, no. What would they say about you?”

She shrugged. “Nothing, I guess…except that I’m a stranger.”

“Well the lady that’s the talk of the town right now ain’t no stranger, that’s for dang sure. She’s Roy and Parker’s ma!”

Ellie stared at him as he took a drink of cold coffee from the pot left on the stove this morning. “I don’t understand.”

“Mrs. McMillan—Mrs. Dotrice, she is now—left Paradise when Roy and Parker were just boys. Seems she didn’t take a shine to our Nebraska winters or something like that. Plus there wasn’t much here back then but buffalos and Indians. Not to mention all the white settlers lived in dugouts underground, like prairie
dogs. This wasn’t such a bustling place back then as it is now.”

Ellie wondered what Ike would make of Mulberry Street in Manhattan, where new immigrants were packed into tenements like pickles in a barrel. “And their mother’s been gone all this time?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hasn’t seen her sons in upwards of twenty years. And not only that, she’s been remarried and widowed again to a man in Philadelphia, Doc says. Parker’s going back to town this evening to see her.”

“What about Roy?”

Ike’s face was an unreadable mask. “Parker doesn’t think Roy’s in any condition to see his ma.”

It’s true the trip would probably be painful for him, but didn’t he deserve to visit with his only living parent as much as Parker? She frowned. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I wouldn’t worry my head about it none, Ellie. The McMillan boys have their own ways, and I’ve decided it’s best just to say ‘to each his own.”’

She crossed her arms, vaguely dissatisfied with that answer. “Still, it seems strange. Poor Roy.”

Ike laughed. “He sure doesn’t like to be sick. That’s a fact.”

Guilt swallowed her. “I feel so terrible about the accident. I’ve been trying all day to make amends, but…”

The farmhand shook his head. “Don’t you worry. Nobody’s blaming you for what happened.”

She let out a sigh.

“You’re just gettin’ restless here, I’ll bet. Tell you what. Tomorrow I’ve got to go into town. So if’n you want to come along and take in the sights, it would be pure pleasure for me to have you along.”

Ellie was grateful for the invitation. She needed to
find out what kind of opportunity there would be in town for a widow with a baby. “Yes, I think I will go with you. Thank you for offering.”

Ike blushed with satisfaction that she’d accepted his offer, which made her think perhaps she was just being overly suspicious when she’d feared Parker and Ike had been eyeing her strangely. If they had been looking at her in a way that was peculiar, perhaps it was because they weren’t accustomed to having a woman in the house. That was a logical explanation, wasn’t it?

Feeling better, she decided she needed to make herself useful. She wasn’t used to being idle.

But of course, she didn’t want to make herself
too
useful. That’s how things had gone so impossibly awry the night before—her inability not to bustle about like a maid. But surely she could manage a few chores without raising any eyebrows.

She looked at the fresh-scrubbed kitchen cleaned by Parker just that morning and sighed. No work to be done here. When she went out into the parlor, she was further disturbed by the lack of untidiness there, too. She sighed, wondering what to do next, and decided it had been too long since she had checked on Roy—a prospect that made her heart skip irregularly.

Fear. That’s what caused that odd racing sensation in her pulse at the thought of seeing Roy. Parker had warned her that Roy was suspicious of women, and the man had certainly proved himself to be more meddlesome than his younger brother. His appearance in her room last night was indication enough of his distrust of her.

Then again, there was something else in the way that he looked at her, especially when he didn’t think she was watching him, that also made her wary. It was that look of masculine curiosity she’d been on
the receiving end of on more than one occasion. Foremost in her mind among those times was the moment she’d first caught slick, handsome Percy Sternhagen’s eye.

She didn’t need any more attention of that nature from men in this lifetime!

And yet there was something about Roy that seemed very different from Percy. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Certainly his probing blue eyes made her jittery in the same way—noodle-kneed and breathless.

But it was a small house and she couldn’t avoid him forever. She went back to the kitchen, heated some coffee, and fixed a tray. When she rapped on his door, which had of course been Parker’s door before she had arrived and sent the whole house topsy-turvy, her knock was met by his gruff voice.

As she entered the room, Roy, standing by his bed, met her with an expression that didn’t ooze happiness at seeing her again. In fact, after a quick glance, he seemed to try to be avoiding looking at her at all.

“I’m not an invalid, you know,” he grumbled.

She smiled in spite of his grumpy attitude. Better by far to be around a cranky man than a randy one. “The doctor said you’re to stay in bed for a bit. I don’t want you to dehydrate.”

“Slim chance that could happen with you infusing me with liquids every hour.”

She set the tray down and frowned. “You’re welcome.”

His pout made him look almost like a little boy. “I mean, thank you.”

She laughed, and it seemed to her that when she did, a glimmer of attraction flared in his blue eyes. Something fluttered deep inside her, giving her the urge to giggle or prance like a foolish schoolgirl.

She fisted her hands and asked, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

He grinned, and immediately she felt her mistake. Would she ever stop acting like a domestic? For years she had dreamed of escaping servitude, and now she couldn’t seem to stop speaking like an upstairs maid.

“I’m the one who should be bringing you coffee. You’re a guest, remember?”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “So much has happened…I’m afraid I’ve been more of an irritant than a visitor.”

He stared at her a long while, until she felt her cheeks blushing under his scrutiny. She should never have come into this room….

“Do you know what surprises me most about you, Ellie?”

Her gaze couldn’t seem to pull away from his blue eyes. Funny, that eyes so like Parker’s could affect her in a completely different way. “No.” Her voice came out weak, breathy.

“You’re so much the opposite of the grand lady I expected.”

Her blush deepened still, and belatedly she did try to draw herself up as if she were that grand lady he’d expected. If only she weren’t so small!

He laughed and picked up the coffee cup she’d brought him. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m not disappointed. In fact, I was sort of dreading having a snooty old dame around the house. You aren’t like that at all.”

“Thank you.” She attempted to walk past him, but he caught her arm and she spun, ending up closer to him than ever. Close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his chest, see his afternoon growth of beard along his strong jaw. Close enough
that she could imagine how it would feel if he bent down and touched his lips to hers.

She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself against such terrible thoughts. Hadn’t her experience in the linen closet with Percy taught her anything?

“I should go.” But when she backed up, her knees hit the back of Roy’s bed.

He steadied her from tripping with his one hand, and she realized suddenly how strong he was. Though he was just slightly taller than Percy, hard work—something Percy had never become acquainted with—had made his body strong, almost formidable.

“Why?”

She swallowed past the sandy dryness in her throat. “I shouldn’t be in your…” Somehow, the word
bedroom
died in her throat, and so she just skipped over it. “Because, look, you’re on your feet, when you should be lying in…”

He grinned. “Bed.”

She nodded; perspiration beaded around her face. Her brow felt fiery hot, despite the fact that it was quite chilly in the house. He lifted a hand to touch a tendril of her hair—a gesture she remembered Percy making.

At that startling thought, she jumped back, accidentally hitting his arm with her hand. Coffee flew from his cup across his bedcovers. “Oh!” she cried, watching the liquid radiate a stain across the worn linens. “I’m so sorry!”

Roy frowned. “Never mind.”

She backed quickly away, toward the door, toward escape. What had he been doing, touching her like that? Putting his hand to her hair wasn’t just a friendly gesture! Had he been sincerely moved to do so, or was this just a more elaborate attempt to unmask her? Was there something about her that invited men to
behave forwardly with her—or was he merely trying to see if she was the kind of woman who could be toyed with?

In other words, not a lady.

She redoubled her efforts to be a lady—the kind he was so surprised she didn’t resemble—and drew herself up proudly, bugging her eyes much in the manner of her old employer, Louisa Sternhagen. No one would have ever caressed
her
hair!

“I’ll get fresh linens for you,” she said.

He looked annoyed. With himself, or with her?

Before she could discover the answer, she fled the room, returning minutes later with fresh bedcovers. “I hope these will do,” she said, suddenly remembering that she was being maidish again. Louisa Sternhagen had probably never made a bed in her life. At that thought, she blinked innocently at Roy. “Do you know what to do with these?”

He was still scowling. “You mean you don’t?”

She almost laughed. How wonderful it would be if she didn’t! “Well…not exactly.”

His lips twisted into a wry grin. “I guess you wouldn’t. Well don’t worry. I’ll do it.”

She smiled back at him as if there couldn’t be too much starch in her drawers. “I’m sooo sorry, Roy. I seem always to be making a nuisance of myself.”

“That’s all right.” But he didn’t look like it was. His thwarted caress didn’t appear to sit well with him.

“I know!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Tomorrow Ike’s taking me into town. I’m going to bring you back a surprise.”

He looked at her doubtfully. “What for?”

She laughed. “For fun, because you’re sick, and because I’m such a bumbler, causing you to break your toe and have coffee in your sheets.”

It would certainly make more sense to simply assuage
her guilt for Roy’s troubles with a present rather than trying to wait on him, which wasn’t helping him or helping her maintain her ladylike facade. But if she gave him a small gift, perhaps she would appear gracious and they could let the whole matter drop. And she might be able to stop dreaming of being locked in a linen closet with Roy.

What could she get him, she wondered? What would she find in Paradise to offer him?

He seemed to be wondering the same thing. That glint was back in his eyes again. “I haven’t received a surprise present since I was a boy.”

She smiled, and this time managed to stay a safe distance away from him as she headed for the door. “Then I’ll have to make sure it’s an especially nice surprise, won’t I?”

I
ke dropped Ellie off at the mercantile in Paradise without a word of warning as to the attention she might receive. Now as she browsed through the store, curious gazes tracked her movements as closely as a cat tracking the movements of a mouse.

Apparently her arrival at the McMillan house had become widely known and raised as much speculation as she had feared. Having so many eyes focused on her made her apprehensive. In New York, strangers were the rule, not the exception. She hadn’t really deliberated on the steps required to insert herself into a smaller community; the steady stares made her realize, however, suddenly and with force, that her dreams of plopping herself into the middle of Paradise without any fuss were, like all her dreams, overly fanciful.

She sauntered along the displays as casually as she could, concentrating on the wares before her. Staring at the vast assortment of goods, however, just made her come to the depressing realization that even the simplest trinket was beyond her means. What kind of surprise could she buy Roy? In playing the part of a grand lady, she’d forgotten she still had a pauper’s
pocketbook. She had so little money, and what little she had she couldn’t afford to waste.

She needed to find a direction; a job. But where in this town would she find a place for herself? As she and Ike had driven through town, she had seen no establishment that might need workers, except for the hotel, and the prospect of working there made her heart sag with dread. In her heart of hearts she had hoped to finally escape domestic servitude, but it appeared that she was even going to descend a rung on the ladder. All the years she’d worked in private homes, she’d heard derisive whispers from other servants about women who worked in hotels. According to some, it was akin to working in a brothel.

But if a position as a hotel maid was all that was open to her here, she would simply have to harden her resolve and set to it. A glare from a young blond woman behind the notions counter speeded Ellie’s exit from the store, and she hurried down the sidewalk, her head bent into the cold wind, in the direction of the hotel.

Her heart felt as heavy as a solid chunk of iron. A maid.
That
would be a surprise for Roy—a surprise to all of them. How was she going to explain this sudden change in her circumstances? Even after the hint of her distressed financial circumstances she’d given Roy, the descent from fine lady to chambermaid was going to be a little difficult for her to explain without revealing that she had been a liar from the moment she first put pen to paper to correspond with Parker.

Oh, why hadn’t she simply confessed her situation when she stepped off the train? Everything would have been so much simpler!

By eastern standards, the Paradise Hotel was no Waldorf-Astoria, but Ellie was impressed as she
looked up at the two-story Italianate structure. Its red brick stood out from the rest of the town, which was mostly composed of wood buildings. She crossed the threshold anxiously, and found herself staring around an oak-panelled lobby in the center of which hung a large, elegant chandelier. Comfortable couches covered in plush red velvet stood next to marble-topped tables, and a large mahogany grandfather clock chimed the hour in the corner. Paradise, indeed!

For the first time, Ellie felt a little excitement at the prospect of working here. Having such fine surroundings would be a comfort, at least.

She walked up to the front desk, where a middle-aged man sat reading a newspaper—though he couldn’t have been too absorbed, because he quickly put the paper aside when she walked up.

“Help you?” he asked in a friendly voice. “Are you staying in town?”

“N-no…” She felt suddenly awkward. “I’m staying with friends.”

He squinted at her through his spectacles more critically. “I see. You’re the McMillan’s visitor.”

She nodded. “Actually, I came here to inquire after a position.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“A job,” she elaborated.

Twisting his lips, the man reached forward, slapped his palm against a bell whose abrupt jangle nearly scared Ellie out of her wits, then returned to his newspaper. “Wait right there,” he said without looking back up at her.

Ellie stood awkwardly in front of the counter, waiting for she knew not what. Then, suddenly, a tall, dark-haired woman wearing a severe black silk dress appeared before her. The woman had small eyes and a long nose, and her expression was pinched.

The man gestured toward Ellie, and the woman in black looked her up and down with such disdain that Ellie wondered how in heaven’s name she was going to get through the ordeal of speaking to this woman. “Yes?”

She had expected a few pleasantries, but since she saw there would be no beating around the bush at all, she replied simply, “I was looking for a job. I was wondering if you might need a serving girl or a maid.”

Lips that were already downturned puckered at her in further displeasure. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie took a deep breath, sorely wishing that she were a foot taller so that this steely matron couldn’t look down her pointy nose at her. “But mightn’t you need more help sometime in the future?”

“I can’t predict the future,” the clipped voice replied.

There was one good thing about being so wholeheartedly dismissed, Ellie thought as she made her way back out onto the sidewalk. At least she hadn’t had to confess to being pregnant, which she surely would have if the hotel manager had shown the slightest interest in hiring her.

But that was a cold comfort, and one that still left her with a mighty problem. How was she to earn her bread and support her child?

She was walking back to the mercantile to meet Ike when she was suddenly stopped by a friendly voice. “Oh! I was hoping to run into you!”

Startled, Ellie looked up and found herself gazing into a pair of familiar blue eyes. Only, the woman before her was completely unknown to her. “I beg your pardon?”

The woman’s lips turned up in a whimsical smile.
“Yes, I forgot you wouldn’t know me at all. I’m Isabel Dotrice.”

This simple statement apparently was meant to clear up all confusion, but Ellie gaped at her in continued ignorance.

The woman laughed. “Roy and Parker’s mother.”

“Oh!” Ellie peered into the older woman’s beautiful face with renewed interest. No wonder the eyes had seemed so familiar! They were Roy and Parker’s exactly, as were her height and proud bearing. Her figure was slender and elegant, her dress tailored like something out of a French ladies’ magazine. Isabel had perfectly straight white teeth that she flashed in a beaming smile, beautiful red cheeks and dark brown hair with just a hint of gray peeping out from under her stylish hat. Ellie might have thought she was in a dream, so incongruous was Roy’s mother’s graceful appearance on the dusty windswept street. It was like meeting a swan in a chicken coop.

“I saw you at the train depot my first day here,” Isabel explained, easing into conversation as easily as if they were old friends instead of complete strangers. “Then, through the window of the mercantile, I saw you again. My dear, what a fuss you created!”

Ellie remembered Ike telling her that Isabel herself had created quite a bit of gossip; she wondered if the woman knew that. “I just came from the store, where everyone was staring. Apparently the fuss hasn’t died down a bit.” She frowned. “And just now, at the hotel, I met the strangest woman.”

Isabel leaned closer and lowered her voice. “A pinched old crow of a woman?”

Ellie nodded. “Yes, exactly!”

Isabel laughed. “That’s Tilda Archer. Don’t pay her any mind. She’s Munsie Warner’s married sister—oh, but you wouldn’t know who Munsie is, either.”
Laughter bubbled from her lips. “Well, for that matter, I barely know them myself. Only the two sisters have been here forever and are both very stern types. Tilda made the mistake of marrying and forced her husband to build the hotel to keep him occupied. But mostly it keeps her occupied, I believe. I know she disapproves of me because I’m a divorcée.”

Ellie nodded, suddenly understanding. If word had gotten out that she was a stranger staying at the McMillan farm…no telling what a town moralist might make of that situation!

Isabel laughed again. “Well it’s a small world here—these poor people have little enough to talk about. Indeed, I count myself among the curious horde now, too, because you’ve been on my mind often since I’ve taken up citizenship in Paradise.”

“Oh, goodness, I don’t see why—”

“I thought perhaps you might be engaged to one of my sons,” Isabel interrupted brusquely, “but last night Parker informed me that wasn’t the case.”

“N-no,” she stammered, blushing furiously. “Of course not!”

The older woman pursed her lips pleasantly. “Pity. Of course, a woman can’t be in any hurry to be a grandmother, but I thought you would do very well for one of my boys.”

Ellie was astonished. The woman hardly knew her! And did her comment about grandmotherhood indicate she knew about Ellie’s condition? She was flustered almost beyond speech.

How could the woman possibly know what kind of woman would “do” for either Roy or Parker, especially since she hadn’t even spoken to Roy since her return from an absence of over twenty years?

Ellie’s mind fastened on this last fact for a moment,
and when she saw Ike’s wagon driving toward the mercantile, she suddenly had an idea.

Others might say that Roy was in no condition for a visit from his mother, but wouldn’t the best judge of his readiness be Roy himself?

“Are you ready for your surprise?”

Roy sat in the rocking chair by the fire in Parker’s little room and looked up with pleasure when Ellie peeked in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she hadn’t stopped long enough even to remove her scarf. For some ridiculous reason, it pleased him that she would be in such a hurry to deliver a surprise to him. Or that she had remembered her promise at all.

Heaven knows he himself had thought of little else since hearing Ike’s wagon leave after breakfast. He sat up, smiled, and nodded.

“Close your eyes.”

Releasing a long-suffering sigh, he did as told. It was silly how excited he felt; like a kid on Christmas morning.

For a moment the only sound in the room was the sound of light footsteps and the swish of skirts. Had Ellie gotten herself a new dress? That would certainly be a welcome surprise in light of those drab outfits she’d been wearing!

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of violets in the air—an extraordinarily familiar smell. Roy’s breath hitched; his heart was racing before he could realize why. Hair on the back of his neck stood on end, heat flooded him, and his eyes flew open.

“Good lord!”

The words rushed out of his mouth. He could hardly believe his eyes. But it was
her;
there was no doubt in his mind about that. Seeing her was disconcerting,
as if she had just strolled casually out of the past. His mother: older, perhaps, but in a way even more beautiful than the boyish ideal he’d kept in his memory over the years. His mother: smiling at him as gently, as fondly, as if he were still a little boy toddling about their cavelike old soddy.

She clasped her hands together, her brow suddenly puckering in worry. “Roy, you hurt yourself! Are they taking good care of you now?”

The voice was so startling—and yet suddenly he realized that he’d seen this woman very recently. When? “Who do you mean by
they?
” he asked, unable to keep the petulance out of his tone. “
We’ve
both been taking care of ourselves for a good long while.”

She sent him a quizzical glance, jolting his memory.

“The railroad station!” he exclaimed.

She nodded and stepped closer; his scowl apparently stopped her in midstride, however. “Yes, that was me—and now I detect you’re mad at me for not saying something then. Don’t be, Roy. How could I introduce myself when you were so obviously keen on finding someone else?”

She tossed a glance back at Ellie standing silently in the doorway. Roy redirected his scowl at her now.
This
was her surprise? An awkward meeting with a woman he’d rather not have come in contact with for the rest of his life?

Catching his angry gaze, Ellie shrank back a step.

His mother made a
tsk
ing sound. “Roy, you always were a mopey lad. That hasn’t changed, I see.”

His head was spinning. She dared to sashay into his life after two decades’ absence and call him a
mopey lad?
Had she abandoned her children at tender ages only to appear twenty years later expecting a gay
reunion? She’d left himself and Parker motherless and later to be raised by bachelor uncles after their bitter heartbroken wreck of a father died, and now she worried that he would be angry because she didn’t say hello to him at the station? There were so many more important things to resent this woman for, the slight at the railroad station was a mere drop in the bucket!

“It’s a wonder you’ve got nerve enough to speak to me at all,” he gritted out.

At his venomous tone, she blinked. “You’re angry, aren’t you?”

Roy thought for a moment. The woman’s blithe tone indicated she hadn’t the slightest idea what she’d done, how her leaving had affected all of them. He wanted to choose his words carefully so she would realize that if she’d come here seeking an easy absolution, she was sorely mistaken. “The word
angry
couldn’t possibly contain what I feel concerning what you did.”

She nodded, absorbing his words, then her lips quirked up in memory. “You were always a serious boy, Roy. Such a grave outlook is rare in children, I think.”

“Maybe I was so serious because I learned at an early age how untrustworthy people could be—especially women.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps, but you were a solemn little boy long before I left you with your father. So somber, and yet no one could help loving you as much as if you were a laughing cherubic little thing!”

Her unflappability stunned him. If he hurled accusations, called her duplicitous and uncaring, vented all the rage in his heart at her, would it matter, or would all that rage slide off her like cracked egg oozing off a slick surface? What kind of metal was her
heart made of that the strongest, hottest words couldn’t make a dent in it?