Eleanora (The Widows 0f Wildcat Ridge Book 8)

by Pam Crooks

  He cupped her face and kissed her. Fast and hard.

  “Your scavenger hunt,” he said, lifting his head. “I’ve got an idea for it.”

  She blinked. “You do?”

  “It’ll be perfect.”

  Still wide-eyed, she nodded, as if she understood. Except she didn’t, and how could she? He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.

  They walked together toward the kitchen. “Fix me a ham sandwich, my sweet, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Chapter 16

  July 4, 1884

  “Going to be a beautiful day for a celebration,” Reed said, his voice full of cheer as he took Eleanora’s pan of rhubarb cobbler, still warm from the oven and covered with a towel, and put it into a basket. “The sun’s shining, the sky’s blue, folks are out and about all over town.”

  “And we’re not,” Eleanora said. Her morning had started well before dawn, and she’d been as busy as a hen in a barnyard ever since. “The festivities are going to start soon. We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry.”

  “We have plenty of time. The scavenger hunt ends at two o’clock. Not even noon yet.”

  Reed was right, but that didn’t make her feel any less harried.

  “Tessa!” Eleanora strode briskly toward the back door and found her daughter sitting on the step, trying to tie a narrow strip of red fabric around her cat’s neck. Since Tessa hadn’t mastered tying a bow yet, the feline had lost her patience, mewling and squirming in protest. Which only took longer. “Tessa, come on. We have to go.”

  “Can we bring Mrs. Cat?” she asked, her little fingers fumbling between holding the animal and maneuvering the fabric to do what she wanted it to do.

  “We may not. There’ll be too many people there, and you’ll only lose her.” She sighed. “Here, let me do that.”

  Bending, she made quick work of the bow, and Mrs. Cat bounded away to rejoin her kittens. Tessa grinned.

  “She looks pretty, Mama. She has a red bow, and I have a red bow, too.” She touched her hair, for once unbraided, as if to make sure the bow was still there.

  “You’re both very pretty, aren’t you?” Eleanora took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

  “Uh-huh. But I’m prettier than a cat is.”

  “Well, she isn’t going to a Fourth of July celebration, and you are, so she doesn’t get to dress up like you do.”

  Indeed, her daughter looked happy and dashing in her bright blue dress with white buttons. Adding a red ribbon was the final touch for a patriotic gathering. The fun event broke up the monotony of their days in a hotel. No wonder Tessa was excited.

  Eleanora had decided to be festive, too. She refused to wear her depressing widow’s weeds any longer and chose a summer dress in deep maroon. The change from black was uplifting, to say the least. After today, she hoped the rest of the widows would feel the same way, that they’d realize their lives had taken a turn for the better, and it was time to put the sadness of the past winter behind them.

  “Are we going to eat there?” Tessa asked.

  “Yes,” Eleanora said for the dozenth time. “We’re going to a picnic, remember?”

  She gathered up her small satchel with its precious contents and met Reed waiting outside with the basket of cobbler. All the hotel guests had left for the celebration, and she didn’t think twice about leaving without someone to watch the front desk. Her days were numbered at the Crane Hotel, anyway. Thanks to the crisp one-hundred dollar bill tucked safely in her bureau drawer, she wouldn’t be manipulated by Mortimer Crane much longer.

  But, instead of turning right toward the churchyard northwest of Front Street, Reed guided her toward the right, toward town.

  “How about taking the long way around?” he asked, his dark-as-pennies eyes twinkling down at her.

  “How did you guess?” she asked.

  “Figured you’d want to gather intelligence on the way there.”

  With Tessa skipping ahead, Eleanora fell into step with him. Holding the satchel close, she pulled on her black gloves.

  “You’ve come to know me quite well lately, haven’t you?” she murmured.

  “Hope there’ll be a day soon when I’ll know you even better,” he murmured back, pressing a kiss to her temple.

  Eleanora’s blood surged from his low, provocative tone. Her mind filled with the implications of his veiled promise, renewing her questions of what their future held. Would they share it together? Or would these past weeks prove to be only a fond memory between them after he left for Washington, D.C.?

  She didn’t know.

  Did he?

  He still hadn’t given her any assurances one way or the other, and she could hardly dwell on the uncertainties, besides. Not today, not now. The scavenger hunt consumed her. The coming two hours would prove its success—or its failure.

  “Posters look good,” Reed said, slowing with her to view one of many they’d hung throughout Wildcat Ridge.

  Seeing them again, this time in broad daylight, she had to agree. Grace had kindly stayed with Tessa while Reed accompanied Eleanora in the pre-dawn hours to distribute special stones tied with clues and to hang the scavenger hunt directions in every visible place they could think of, with no one to see them in the dark. Surely, the posters would stir excitement, wouldn’t they? Encourage each widow to play along?

  **

  To the Widows of Wildcat Ridge

  Look for a stone wrapped in red, white or blue.

  Look for your name and number, too.

  At the July 4th celebration, find your place in line.

  And you’ll soon learn your prize will be special and fine.

  **

  “You did a wonderful job writing the poem,” she said, patting his arm in appreciation.

  “Enjoyed doing it.”

  They approached the mayor’s office, and the stone still sitting on the windowsill stirred up her worry. It was just what she was afraid of. Unclaimed stones. They were the whole purpose of the scavenger hunt for the widows, and if they didn’t know to play, the hunt would fall apart.

  Hester had given her the scraps left over from the red, white and blue bunting. She knew only that Eleanora needed them for the scavenger hunt, and surely, she’d recognized that strip of blue tied around the stone, holding its special scrap of paper in place? Wouldn’t she think to pick it up and investigate?

  “Maybe she missed it,” Reed said, frowning.

  “How could she? She comes to her office every day, and the stone is in plain view. She has the most important puzzle piece of all. What are we going to do if she doesn’t play along?”

  “Not much we can do. We don’t want to give the secret away, do we?” His arm encircled her in a quick hug. “It’ll work out. You’ll see.”

  Eleanora sighed. They continued their walk toward Chestnut Street and around to Pine Street, which took them directly to the churchyard. At least, they hadn’t found any more patriotic-looking stones, which assured her tremendously the widows had found them. Indeed, by the time Eleanora and Reed joined the growing crowd, several of the women rushed toward her, chattering in their excited puzzlement.

  “Eleanora, I’m so intrigued,” Garnet said, holding her stone in her hand. “What does it all mean?”

  “You’ll see.” Eleanora smiled.

  “I’m number twenty-seven,” said Hazelann Pitts, with her. “How many numbers are there?”

  Eleanora’s smile broadened. “I’m not saying.”

  “Well, isn’t she a sly one?” Thalia Plunkett said. “I’m number eleven, and I have no idea what that means, either.”

  “Two o’clock,” Reed said, taking Eleanora’s elbow and pulling her away. “You’ll find out then, ladies.”

  Leaving them to chatter like magpies, he found a place to sit in front of the stage, adorned with Hester’s colorful, eye-catching bunting. They’d barely settled on their chairs before Priscilla Heartsell recited an opening prayer in her father’s place. He�
��d been the preacher before being killed in the explosions, and she asked God to protect and preserve the union, with a confidence that would’ve made him proud.

  Judge Owen Vaile took the stage after her and read the “Declaration of Independence,” his tone a solemnity fitting for the importance of the day. Everyone stood and clapped, whereupon he invited them to help themselves to lunch.

  Reed and Eleanora joined the throng weaving toward tables set up in neat rows and covered with colorful tablecloths. Another row of tables held platters of cold roasted chicken and beef, boiled rabbit, baked beans, fresh and canned fruit, eggs and pickles, assorted breads and plenty of desserts if stomachs had room. Eleanora added her cobbler to the mouth-watering spread. She couldn’t remember a time when Wildcat Ridge had as much food prepared and displayed in one place like this before.

  Finally, the time arrived to announce the results of her scavenger hunt. After sending Tessa off to play with Joey and Hyacinth, Eleanora took her satchel and headed with Reed over to a lone table. Earlier that morning, he’d propped a tall easel and board beside it. Grace was already there, seated and waiting for them.

  “It’s time, Ellie.” She smiled and rubbed her hands together.

  Eleanora blew out a breath. “I know.”

  “What are you so worried about? It’s going to be fun.”

  “That’s what I keep telling her,” Reed said wryly, taking his place by the easel, his eye on the group of widows already strolling toward them, their stones in their hands.

  “I just want everything to be perfect.” Eleanora opened the satchel and pulled out its contents—papers, pencil, envelopes—and handed them all to Grace. “You remember what to do?”

  “Of course.”

  Grace had always been good at record-keeping, and since she hadn’t lost a husband to the explosions and wasn’t entitled to Mortimer Crane’s settlement, Eleanora and Reed took her into their confidence. Grace had sworn herself to secrecy. Besides the three of them, no one else knew about the terms of the scavenger hunt or its forty-seven prizes.

  Grace picked up the pencil and arranged the papers in front of her. “I’m ready. The widows have arrived.”

  Indeed, they had, and it wasn’t even two o’clock yet.

  Which didn’t matter a bit. Eleanora mingled among them, checking the numbers inscribed on the square piece of paper previously tied to their stones then helping the women stand in proper order in the line.

  Reed took each widow’s clue and tacked it to the easel’s board, starting with the first and adding the second beside it. Grace marked their names off her list and handed them an envelope, giving them strict instructions not to open it until they were allowed.

  One after the other, the widows presented their squares to Reed for display, until the puzzle took shape. The widows huddled around the easel, their envelopes gripped in their hands, murmuring and exclaiming and expressing wonderment at the meaning of it all.

  In seemingly no time, the puzzle was complete, except for one piece. A hole left toward the bottom. The single most important piece that gave the entire scavenger hunt its meaning.

  Eleanora nibbled on her lip in disappointment. Having to explain to them the meaning of the puzzle would be, well, unbearably anti-climactic.

  Reed winked, as if to assure her it was all right.

  The widows fell silent. Their gazes moved from the easel to Reed and Eleanora and back again, their expectation palpable.

  Left with no choice, Eleanora had to explain, and she took a breath...

  “Eleanora? Eleanora!”

  She swung around toward the voice. Reed and the others did, too. Hester hurried toward them, holding her skirt up with one hand and her stone high in the air with the other.

  “Am I too late?” their mayor asked, winded.

  A slow smile formed on Eleanora’s lips, a smile which widened and erupted into laughter. “No. No, you’re not.”

  She took Hester’s stone and gave it to Reed, who, with great showmanship, untied the strip of fabric and attached the final square of paper bearing Mortimer Crane’s signature to the board.

  “What is this about, Eleanora? I’ve been looking all over town for the stone with my name on it. Why, imagine my surprise to find it was under my nose the whole time.” She huffed. “It certainly proved to be quite the hunt for—”

  She halted. Leaned in closer.

  Each widow did, too, like a hive of bees on a honeycomb, forcing those in the back of the huddle to stand up on tiptoe to see, too.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Hester asked, jaw lagging. “Has Mortimer Crane agreed to a settlement for us?”

  “Yes!” Eleanora squealed and couldn’t contain herself any longer. She waved her arms in the air and jumped up and down. “Can you believe it? Open your envelopes, ladies. Open them, open them!”

  A great tearing of paper ensued, followed immediately by shocked gasps and screams. Envelopes fluttered to the ground, but each fist clung to its one-hundred dollar bill.

  “How did you ever do it?”

  “One hundred dollars? To keep?”

  “Mortimer Crane did this?”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “I never thought it would happen!”

  Voices converged into a melee of noise and questions that Eleanora couldn’t even begin to sort out. The women engulfed her with their hugs and shrieks, their thanks fervent, their joy unrivaled.

  Grinning, too, Reed shook hands with a pleased-looking Judge Vaile, watching nearby. Tessa, unconcerned with what had just happened, tugged on her Aunt Grace’s skirt to show how Mrs. Cat, still wearing the red strip of fabric around her neck, followed her all the way to church because she wanted to have fun at the celebration, too.

  Finally, before the widows had fully dispersed, Reed pulled Eleanora aside.

  “I have another surprise for you, my sweet,” he murmured. “Come on. Let’s go for a ride.”

  Chapter 17

  Eleanora hadn’t been on the road leading to her cabin since she’d buried Darvin. So much had changed from that awful day when Mortimer Crane forced her to move to his hotel. The gray skies, the dreary, leafless trees and brown grasses of winter had been a fitting departure.

  But now? Her gaze clung to the beautiful greens and delicate shades of color from a profusion of wildflowers. Birds sang their merry tunes in the cottonwoods, and the crisp, clean scent of ponderosa pines filled her senses. Summer and sunshine transformed her home and reminded her how much she’d missed it and why she loved the country, most of all.

  “Did we used to live out here, Mama?” Tessa asked, looking bemused.

  Seated between Reed and Eleanor on the wagon seat, she cuddled Mrs. Cat, who had fallen fast asleep within minutes after they’d boarded the rig Reed had borrowed from Jasper Jones, the livery’s owner.

  “We did. Do you remember how you used to play and have so much fun?”

  Tessa nodded. “But I remember how our cabin was broke more.”

  “Hmm. Yes. That wasn’t good, was it?”

  “No. That’s why we had to move to the hotel, huh? ’Cuz we had to be safe.”

  “That’s right.”

  Eleanora shared a knowing glance with Reed. Leaving their cabin had been difficult, but Tessa accepted the move more readily with the explanation Eleanora gave her. Part of it was true, at least. The mine explosions damaged the structure, but Eleanora would’ve found a way to stay there if not forced out by Crane’s blackmail.

  “Would you like to live here again, Tessa?” Reed asked, looking relaxed with the reins in his fists and his feet spread on the floor board.

  His question startled Eleanora; before she could ask what he meant, he drove up and parked in front of the place. She could only stare at the changes. The yard had been well-trimmed, the cabin didn’t tilt a bit anymore and oh, it had new windows and flowers and...

  She swung her gaze toward him, but he’d already dropped to the ground, turning to take Tessa and swin
g her down, too, cat and all. He came around for her next, and once she’d dismounted, his hands lingered on her waist.

  “This is what you’ve been doing all along, isn’t it?” she said softly, her palms against his chest. “You’ve been repairing my home.”

  “Would’ve been a shame to just let it go.”

  She could barely comprehend his generosity. “Why would you, Reed? How did you manage it? I mean, it must’ve been difficult.”

  “Cuddy helped. He’s a hard worker and a fount of knowledge, besides.”

  “Cuddy.” She shook her head in amazement.

  “He’s probably here somewhere.” Reed turned. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

  He appeared then, from around the back of the cabin, looking the same as always with his scruffy beard and wide-brimmed hat. Seeing them, he stopped short. Blinked. And stood a little taller.

  Dirt caked both knees, as if he’d been working in the garden. Wiping his hands on each leg of his denims, he drew closer. He’d been such a good friend to Darvin, to her and Tessa, from the time they first met, and she’d missed him. Until now, she hadn’t known how much. Tears rose up and stung.

  In the next moment, he bundled her against him and hugged her tight.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Eleanora,” he said gruffly. “Been too long.” He stepped back and looked her over. “You’ve gotten even prettier since I seen you last, and don’t go denyin’ it.”

  She laughed. “All right. I won’t.” There was so much to say, so much to thank him for. Where could she begin? “Reed told me what you’ve done for us. I never expected it of you. Of anyone, for that matter.”

  Cuddy’s bushy-browed glance darted to Reed. “Everything?”

  He nodded. “It was you who rode out to the King 2 Mine, wasn’t it?”

  “I ain’t gonna tell you it wasn’t.” He squared his shoulders. “Crane needed the scare after all he’d done.”

  “It worked, you know. He signed the agreement,” Reed said.

  “That so?” Cuddy narrowed an eye. “Settled out of court, you mean?”