Where Wildflowers Bloom: A Novel (31 page)

“Won’t take but a minute—when I’m ready.”

She recognized the steely tone. Further persuasion would be wasted.

“I do have something you might like to hear,” he said, drawing a page from another stack. “I remembered this today.”

After clearing his throat, he read, “When my sister Charlotte Anne was twenty, she worried so much about her spinster status that she accepted a proposal from a prosperous farmer, in spite of her affection for a local blacksmith. Our family opposed the match, knowing she didn’t love her intended, but she was determined to see herself married and settled in a fine home. But as fate or providence would have it, several days before the unfortunate event was to take place she—”

A loud hissing sound erupted, followed by a noxious odor. Faith dashed toward the source of the smell, which could only be the kitchen.

Amy followed at her heels. “Oh my word. The soup.” She plunked Sophia on the floor next to the pantry door and wrapped her hands in a towel, then lifted a kettle onto the worktable. Black liquid smoked on the stovetop and around the lids.

Amy sent Faith an agonized look. “I thought pea soup would be an easy supper, so we could spend more time on your dress. Now see what happened. I’ll be half the night scrubbing.”

“We’ll work on it together as soon as the stove cools.”

“But it wasn’t your doing.”

“You’re helping me with my dress. Why shouldn’t I lend a hand out here?” Faith sniffed at what was left of the kettle’s contents. “Doesn’t smell too scorched. This will be fine for supper.” She felt relieved at the interruption of Grandpa’s morality tale, wondering whether he really had a sister named Charlotte Anne. He’d never mentioned her before.

Later that evening, Faith stood in her bedroom while Amy slipped the pale green and gray shot silk dress over her head. In the lamplight, the colors appeared iridescent, shimmering like moonlight on water.

Amy sighed. “What lovely fabric. I’ve never sewn anything so fine.”

“Rosemary convinced me to make this selection. I don’t think it’s going to be practical for pioneer life.” She stroked the skirt, secretly thankful for her friend’s persuasion. If Royal succeeded in his plans to command a western fort, perhaps there’d be dances or parties where she could wear the gown.

When Amy had the rear panels arranged, she led Faith to the pier glass and handed her a small mirror. “How do you like the train?”

Faith held the mirror so she could see her back. A long swath of silk swept from the neckline to trail on the floor behind the hem. She sucked in a breath. “I don’t recognize myself. You’ve done splendid work. Have you ever considered becoming a dressmaker?”

“I like to sew. I don’t know that anybody’d want me to make their dresses. What do I know about fashion?” She brushed a hand across her plain over-dyed black frock.

“You could learn. I’ll bring home some
Godey’s
and
Peterson’s
magazines tomorrow.” She turned around and surveyed the front of her gown, appreciating the simple lines.

“Rosemary said I should make bows for the front, maybe from dark green ribbon. Here, here, and here.” Amy tapped places where pins marked future buttons.

“It’s fine the way it is.” Faith bit her lip. The closer the date loomed, the less she felt like celebrating. Bows would be a festive touch she preferred to avoid.

F
aith slowed her steps as she neared the livery on Saturday morning. Curt deserved to hear about Cassie’s discovery. She hoped for an opportunity to talk to him without Mr. Ripley listening, but when she didn’t see him in the corral, she knew her hopes were in vain.

Sighing, she lifted her skirt over her boot tops and walked through the door, her eyes seeking Curt.

“He’s up there,” Mr. Ripley said, bounding out of his office and pointing at the loft. A forkful of fragrant hay dropped into a bin inside one of the stalls, confirming the man’s statement. “Saxon! You got a special visitor.”

Faith cringed. He made it sound like the governor’s lady had come to call.

Curt’s shoulder muscles strained at the fabric of his shirt as he descended the ladder. She averted her eyes, ashamed of the direction her thoughts were taking.

“Rip told me you were here last night. Must be something important.” His voice held a note of curiosity.

She noticed Mr. Ripley lingering nearby. “I have news you’ll be pleased to hear. Would you be able to step outside for a moment?”

“Go ahead, Saxon. Take all the time you need.” Curt’s employer sent a broad wink in her direction.

Curt took her arm and guided her to a shaded area on the west side of the building. His eyes studied her face as though he were memorizing her features. “Last night, Rosemary told me about Cassie’s discovery. Is that your news?” His tone was guarded.

Faith hoped her disappointment didn’t show. “Yes,” she said, deflated. “I wanted to tell you myself. I should have realized Rosemary would be even more excited than I am.”

“I’m glad you stopped by.” His expression warmed. “It’s nice to know you’re interested in my welfare.”

Faith dared to place a hand on his arm. “Of course I am. You said a long time ago that you wanted to be my friend. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed. You know that. If Baxter happened by at this moment, do you think he’d be pleased to see us together?”

“No.” She let her hand fall to her side.

He took a step toward the front of the livery, then turned to face her. “You’d better go.” His jaw was set in a tight line.

Faith fought the impulse to run after him when he entered the building. He didn’t look back. The memory of the tale Grandpa read last night entered her mind.

How did Charlotte Anne’s life turn out? Did she marry to attain her goal of a fine home, or did she follow her heart?

Torn, she directed her steps toward town. Royal had promised to take her for a buggy ride after church tomorrow. When they were together, his charm had the effect of casting a spell over her. She wasn’t plagued by indecision. At least, not much.

As she approached the jailhouse, she saw Sheriff Cooper untie his horse from the hitching rail and swing into the saddle. He tipped his hat to her and rode south on Court Street. Faith hurried toward the mercantile, eager to tell Rosemary what she’d seen.

Mr. Grisbee met her outside the locked doors. “Got bad news, Miss Faith. Someone tried to break in to the store last night.”

“How do you know?” Her gaze swept the storefront. “Nothing’s disturbed.”

“Not here. In the alley.”

“Did you tell Sheriff Cooper?”

“Haven’t had time. Only been here a couple minutes.”

“I just saw him ride away. Maybe we can stop him.” Faith whirled and dashed to the corner, but the sheriff had apparently turned on the street fronting the railroad tracks and ridden out of sight.

She stomped back to Mr. Grisbee, anger rising in her throat. “I’ve had enough of this. If the sheriff won’t stop the thieves, I’ll do it myself.”

“Now, calm down.” His faded blue eyes filled with concern. “We got no more idea who to arrest than Cooper does. Anyways, all that happened last night is some ax marks cleaved in the door. I’ll show you.” He shuffled to the corner of the mercantile and followed the gravel path to the alley. Faith matched her steps to his slow pace.

Morning sun angled between the buildings, lighting the alleyway but leaving the storeroom door shaded. Faith clamped her teeth together at the sight of raw wood chips on the ground. Half a dozen gashes stood in pale contrast to the weathered exterior around the door frame.

“That door would’ve been chopped open if’n you wasn’t using that bolt.”

“Why do you suppose he didn’t finish?” She studied the damage. “A wooden bar wouldn’t stop an ax.”

“Likely making too much noise. We’re a stone’s throw from the jailhouse.”

“But Sheriff Cooper doesn’t
sleep
there. Who would hear?”

Mr. Grisbee spread his hands. “I’m just an old teamster. Don’t expect me to think like a thief.”

Faith chuckled and linked her arm through the older man’s. She’d come to depend on Mr. Grisbee’s watchful care. She’d miss him when she left. “Let’s open the store. We’ll talk to the sheriff when he returns.”

The back door of the adjoining business creaked open. Mr. Simpkins poked his head out of the newspaper office. “Thought I heard voices. Something wrong out here?”

Faith released Mr. Grisbee’s arm and planted her hands on her hips. “Just a robbery attempt is all.” She didn’t care if he printed the story. Maybe it would spur Sheriff Cooper to try harder.

The editor whipped a notebook from his pocket and hustled toward them, whistling when he saw the damage. “Thought I heard something last night.” He pointed at the stairs that led to his living quarters above the
Noble Springs Observer
. “My bedroom’s behind that corner window up there.”

“Did you see anyone?” Faith’s voice rose to an excited pitch.

He shook his head. “I opened the window and looked out, but it’s black as coal down here once the sun sets. The noise stopped, though.”

Faith and Mr. Grisbee exchanged a knowing glance. “You’re the reason he didn’t break in,” Faith said. “Thank you.”

Mr. Simpkins slipped a pencil from behind his ear. “This’ll be in today’s paper. It’s early enough to make room on the front page.”

“As long as you’re writing the story, be sure to tell the whole thing. The mercantile’s been plagued with trouble for three months. I can’t get the sheriff to take me seriously.”

The editor’s eyes brightened. “Start at the beginning.”

Sheriff Cooper marched into the mercantile late Saturday afternoon. He waved the
Noble Springs Observer
at Faith. “Did you tell Simpkins I’m not helping you solve the robberies?”

“Please wait a moment,” Faith said in her sweetest voice. “I’m assisting Mrs. Raines here with her purchase.” She unrolled a bolt of red calico, patterned with yellow flowers. Lifting the shears, she asked, “You said six yards, is that correct?”

Mrs. Raines nodded, then glared at the sheriff. “I think it’s disgraceful when a defenseless young woman has to turn to the community for help with her dilemma. What did we elect you for?”

His face outshone the red calico. He slapped the paper down next to Mrs. Raines and pointed to the second paragraph of the front-page story. “Citizens are asked to report any suspicious sightings to the editor of this paper,” he read in a voice tight with anger. “A vigilante committee will be formed to carry out justice in the absence of proper law enforcement.” He paused and drew several breaths. “Vigilante committee? You’re suggesting anarchy.”

Unperturbed, Faith folded Mrs. Raines’s fabric. “That will be thirty cents, please.”

She waited while the woman tucked her purchase into a carryall and left the store, then raised her eyes to meet the sheriff’s infuriated gaze. “Mr. Simpkins added the part about vigilantes. I pray things won’t come to that point.” She replaced the bolt of fabric on a shelf, aware of the sheriff steaming behind her like a kettle on the boil. “By the way, I noticed you riding out of town early this morning. Were you by any chance verifying Miss Haddon’s discovery?”

He snatched the newspaper from the countertop. “No. But rest assured, I will. Soon.”

The bell over the door jangled for several extra seconds when he slammed out of the mercantile.

“Whoo-ee,” Mr. Grisbee called from the entrance to the storeroom. “Simpkins sure lit a fire in Cooper’s tail feathers.”

Faith snickered at the image. “It needed to be done.” Then she sobered. “I do think Mr. Simpkins shouldn’t have mentioned using vigilantes, though. There’s been enough trouble in these hills without starting more.”

“Likely you’ll be gone before things come to such a pass.” Mr. Grisbee dropped the curtain. She heard him throw the bolt locking the rear entrance.

By leaving, she was locking herself away from Noble Springs’s future. The thought left her feeling bereft.

On Sunday, Royal guided the buggy under a canopy of white oaks overlooking Pioneer Lake. He jumped out to assist Faith.

“You’ve haven’t said two words since we left your house. I’m glad I’m not marrying a chatterbox.” He chuckled and took her hand. “Shall we stroll to the water’s edge?”

She gazed up at her fiancé’s handsome face. He’d removed his hat, and his black hair shone with spice-scented oil.

When he caught her eye, he smiled and squeezed her hand. “Ten more days. Before you know it, we’ll be leaving this stodgy town for Oregon. That is, once your grandpappy gets those papers signed.” He cleared his throat. “Gil Allen was asking me about them yesterday. If you wait too long, he may change his mind. There’s other properties available, you know.”

Faith removed her hand from his. “I’ve told you before. I have no control over when my grandfather decides to sign. You know how hard this is for him.”
And for me.
She blinked with surprise when the unbidden thought crossed her mind.

Royal led her to a fallen log and brushed leaves from the bark, then patted the cleared space. “Let’s sit and watch the ducks.” Near the edge of the lake, orange-billed waterfowl paddled in small groups. A light breeze blew from the water.

She untied her bonnet to capture the cooler air, fanning herself and sinking gratefully onto the curved surface of the log. “It’s pleasant here.”

“This is nothing compared to the lakes we’ll see in the west. I’m told some of them are miles wide.”

“So I understand.”

He moved closer to her side, slipping an arm around her waist. “I figure this Tuesday wouldn’t be too soon to start moving our supplies to Hartfield. Our wagon’s waiting. I’ll come for the first load when you close the store.”

“Tuesday,” she repeated in a faint voice.

“I have other plans for Monday,” he said, apparently misinterpreting her hesitation. “The fellow who built the wagon is getting a mite testy at having to wait for his money.”

Faith lifted her eyebrows. “You said you’d paid him.” Did he expect her grandfather to supply the means for the entire journey?

“He wouldn’t start work without cash up front.” Royal dropped a kiss on her head. “I told him we’d have the rest sometime in August.”

She slid away, leaving a gap between them. “You presumed on my grandfather’s funds? Is that why you want to marry me?” Her throat constricted. Did his choice of her over other available girls depend on who had the most money? She blinked back tears at her foolish vanity.

“Not at all.” Royal stood and drew her to her feet. Once she was standing, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. His warm breath sent tingles through her body. “I want to marry you for you.” She felt his lips shape the words on her skin. “I can’t imagine life in Oregon with anyone else.” His mouth sought hers.