“I’m very busy, Detective Latemar. If you have nothing to add, I’ll be going.”
He casually slid before the door, blocking her exit. “My mother passed away two weeks ago.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss, but that has nothing to do with me.”
“She lived in Wichita. I came home for the funeral. I knew you borrowed a train ticket, but I lost the trail. I saw your name in the papers. An encounter with outlaws. Did a little checking in Wichita. Found your name and your transfer.”
“Here I am, Detective Latemar.” She splayed her hands. “If you don’t have any new information, I’ll be going.”
“I said I hadn’t made an arrest.” He grasped his lapels and leaned against the closed doors. “I didn’t say anything about new information.”
She wasn’t falling for his bait. “Goodbye, Detective Latemar.”
“Nice dress you’re wearing. Special occasion?”
“I was married this morning. If you don’t mind, I have guests waiting.”
There was no use hiding. He’d find out the truth sooner or later.
“I’m happy for you. I truly am. I discovered quite a bit about your husband. Don’t think I’d have liked him if we’d met. Some people get what’s coming to them. But you, you I like, Mrs...”
“Halloway.”
“You I like, Mrs. Halloway. I’m not here to hurt you, but I think you might have some information that could be useful to me. Since I was only three hours away, I figured I’d visit you in person and search your memory.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Did your husband ever mention a man named Fairfax?”
“No.”
“He was having an affair with his wife.”
The sting barely registered. “My husband had many affairs. I chose not to keep track of them.”
“Did Mrs. Fairfax ever contact you?”
“Never.” Voices sounded in the lobby. “I can’t stay long. I’ll be missed.”
He moved away from the door. “Yes. Your wedding day.”
She paused beside him. “I don’t want my husband to know about this.”
“I’m in town for a few days. If something comes to mind, I’ll be staying at The Cattleman.”
“I want to help you. Truly. But I don’t know anything.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Mrs. Halloway. I’m here to help you.”
She threw back her shoulders. “My husband wants to run for mayor of this town. How well do you think he’ll be received if the local newspaper discovers that his new wife was once a suspect in her late husband’s murder?”
“Politics is a tricky bedfellow.”
“Then you understand.”
“The best way to clear your name is by catching the true killer.”
“That’s your job, isn’t it? You’ve questioned me. You’ve splashed my name across the front pages of the Philadelphia newspaper. Your investigation drove me from town. If I knew who killed my husband, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”
He retrieved a letter from his pocket. “Do you recognize this handwriting?”
She tossed a cursory glance in the direction of the handwriting. “That’s Edward’s.”
“He sent this letter to Mrs. Fairfax. He was severing his relationship with her.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“A woman scorned. The classic motives are always the most universal.”
“I don’t recognize the name. I don’t remember ever meeting the woman. Where is she now?”
“That’s the thing. She’s disappeared, Mrs. Halloway. You see, your husband’s letter wasn’t very gentle. He’d decided to focus his attention on his wife. On you.”
“He was lying. He was like any other man trying to escape a difficult situation. He was lying to get himself out of a tight corner.”
“According to her friends in Philadelphia, Mrs. Fairfax was acting rather agitated in the weeks before she vanished.” He pinned her with his direct gaze. “If she’s still after revenge, she may come for you.”
“Why? She has no reason to come after me. Especially if she killed Edward.”
“I learned a long time ago that logic never applies to the human heart, Mrs. Halloway. Tell your husband what happened in Philadelphia. Soon.”
Her ears buzzed, and her vision blurred. “No. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t believe you’re deliberately concealing something. I think you may have a vital piece of information, and you don’t realize the importance. It could be anything. A name your late husband mentioned in passing, perhaps. An item in his possession that seemed out of place. You assisted him at his law practice. Perhaps you overheard something. Something that didn’t seem important at the time.”
“I saved nothing of Edward’s. Nothing. His family wasn’t very welcoming of me after you named me as a suspect. The debtors took everything of value after he died. I donated his clothing and personal items to charity. I gave him a Christian burial, and I left God to pass judgment. I can’t help you, and you’ll only harm me if you stay. You said you liked me, so go. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”
“Think about what I’ve said, Mrs. Halloway.”
“Anyone who knew Edward knew that I meant nothing to him. There’s no reason for anyone to harm me. I have to go now. I have guests.”
“Then let me be the first to offer you my congratulations.”
“Thank you, Detective Latemar.” She touched her stomach. She had the future of her family to consider. She had to be strong. For Russ. For her child. “I know you’re driven. I know you won’t stop until you solve the case, but if you approach me again, I’ll have you arrested for harassment. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She stepped from the room and pivoted on her heel. The detective remained standing just beyond the threshold. She slid the doors closed and turned her back on him.
She wasn’t afraid of him any longer. She even trusted that he’d find the killer. She didn’t care either way. What was done was done. He was her past.
Russ was her future.
* * *
The afternoon of the fund-raiser, Russ felt as though he no longer recognized his normally calm, cool and collected wife. She spun around the house, a whirling dervish of chaotic energy.
She thrust a basket into his hands. “Can you load this in the wagon?”
“Yes. Is there anything else you’d like loaded?”
“All the boxes on the porch.”
“Done.”
She paused, slightly breathless, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. “Already?”
“Yes.” He placed his free hand on her shoulder. “Relax. Everything is going to go splendidly. The weather is perfect. The planning committee has done an impeccable job. The fund-raiser is going to be a raging success.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I know so. Now relax and enjoy the party. We’d best go, or we’ll be late.”
“Late?” she exclaimed. “What time is it?”
“Time to leave.” He took her hand and led her gently but urgently toward the door. “You’re going to give yourself an apoplexy.”
She took a deep, gusty breath. “This is the first time I’m going to meet many of your friends and business associates. I want everything to be perfect.”
“And everything will be perfect. Don’t worry.”
Though he worried about her health, he enjoyed seeing the fire of excitement in her brilliant green eyes. The first hesitant steps of their marriage were progressing quite nicely, though he always sensed she was holding something back from him, keeping something just out of his reach.
He d
id his best to erase whatever sad memories she had of her first husband. He encouraged her hobbies and sought her opinions—even her passion for seeds and gardening was contagious. He’d come to appreciate the miracle of growth from the tiny seedlings.
Though he’d always admired her looks, something about her had changed. “You look more beautiful every day.”
She blushed becomingly. “I already had to let out the waist of this dress.”
He pressed his hand against her stomach, marveling at the even greater miracle of life. “When will you feel the baby move?”
“Leah said between four and five months.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “We’d best be going.”
He brushed the spot with his fingers. She was growing bolder each day, and he liked the change.
She stepped onto the porch and spun around. “The wagon is gone!”
“I delivered everything earlier. Half the town is already crowded outside the new library. There’s no room for another wagon. We can walk the distance if you’re up to it.” He dangled the basket on one arm and held out the other to Anna.
She hooked her arm through his. “I’d enjoy a walk.”
They made their way toward the town. Before they’d reached Eden Street, they were already rubbing elbows with jostling crowds of people.
Beside him, Anna’s grin was wide and infectious. “The whole town has turned out!”
“Yes,” he agreed. A gentleman and his wife approached them, two young girls in tow. The man caught his eye in recognition. Russ drew Anna aside, and the man and his family joined them. “Anna, I’d like you to meet Noah and Grace Burgess and their daughters, Abigail and Jane.”
Noah Burgess wasn’t overly tall, but he was solidly built with wavy blond hair that seemed a little long and piercing blue eyes. Scars from a burn he’d gotten in the war covered part of his face, disappearing beneath his shirt. His wife was petite and delicate with wavy dark brown hair and red highlights that caught the afternoon sun and golden-brown eyes. The girls were seven-year-old twin replicas of their mother.
After the round of introductions was made, Russ added, “Along with Will and Daniel, Noah is one of the town founders.”
Noah brushed off the title with a self-effacing gesture of his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Halloway. Thanks for all your hard work on the fund-raiser. I keep up with the town council, and they’re quite impressed with you.”
Anna drew up taller. “Thank you. It’s been a pleasure.”
The two families separated, and Russ used his superior height to navigate them through the throng. By the time they reached the library, an enormous crowd had formed on the front lawn. From the makeshift stage, Reverend Taggart gave a blessing, and Tomasina opened the festivities with a rousing speech that had everyone in peals of laughter.
The redhead stepped aside, and a group of Shawnee and Seneca Indians in full tribal costume appeared. Each of the groups performed a ceremonial dance to the delight of the crowd.
Russ directed Anna’s attention to a group of people beside the stage. “Looks like Minnie and Millie have found love.”
The two girls were talking and giggling with two men. Three children sat on the grass at their feet.
“Who are they?”
“The dark-haired man holding the banjo is Freddie Simms, and that’s his brother, Billy. Billy is a widower who owns a ranch on the outside of town. Those are his kids, Dwight, Frank and Jenny.”
Judging from the smitten looks passing between the brothers and the cousins, there’d be two more marriages before long.
Anna giggled herself. “I can’t believe those two are going to marry brothers. Could anything be more perfect?”
“I hope the Simms brothers are prepared,” he said. “Come along, we’d best deliver this basket to the barbeque.” They passed a gentleman with a striking brunette clinging to his arm. “That’s Buck Hanley and Molly Delaney. Buck was the sheriff in town before he left the job to open his own business. Molly had her eye on Seth before Marigold.”
“I thought Sadie had her eye on Seth.”
“Everyone loved Seth.”
She tugged on his sleeve. “Not everyone.”
His heart did a little flip. “Speaking of Sadie, there she is now.”
The buxom lady strode toward them on the arm of a fellow holding a camera box hitched over his shoulder.
“Anna, have you met Walter Kerr? He’s the town photographer.” As Russ introduced them, he felt Anna stiffen beside him. “Is there something wrong?” But she merely shook her head.
Walter adjusted the enormous camera box on his shoulder. “If you like, I can take your picture. A belated wedding photo.”
Sensing something amiss with Anna, Russ said, “Maybe later.”
When the couple dissolved into the crowd, Russ turned to Anna. “Is everything all right?”
Anna squeezed his arm to her chest. “Everything is fine. Let’s watch the canoe races after we drop off the basket.”
The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. Russ worried about Anna, but she appeared to be energized rather than fatigued by all the activity. There was a strength contest where men took turns pounding spikes into a mock railroad tie, and crossing signs directed the crowds. Different stations had been set up, and Anna had her ticket punched at the ‘Omaha’ stop before moving to the next town on the transcontinental railroad line.
As the sun set low on the horizon, the stage was taken by the band, including banjo player, Freddie Simms. When the band struck up a slow tune, Russ took Anna’s hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Yes,” she replied, her voice slightly breathless.
He spun her gently to the dance floor. “I like the new dress.”
She’d donned a peach calico dress with lace at the sleeves and collar. “Hannah Johnson is the seamstress. She’s quite good.”
He pressed her closer, his hand around her back, his other hand clasping hers. With her close like this, the scent of the rosewater rinse she used on her hair teased his senses. This morning, she’d brushed it out before the stove, and the sight had caught him unaware. He’d lingered in the doorway, longing to feel the silky tresses beneath his fingers. He’d scooted into the shadows before she’d caught him staring.
She hadn’t married her late husband because she loved him. He hadn’t been kind to her, that much Russ knew.
She stumbled, and he righted their steps.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never had much of a chance to dance.”
“Not even when you were married?”
“Especially when I was married,” she said, her tone filled with bitterness.
Another thought occurred to him, and he halted on the dance floor. “Did he hit you?”
“No.” She glanced around. “Keep dancing. People are watching us.”
A weight dropped inside him, a spiraling downward sensation. The tight knot in his chest eased somewhat. Unbearably relieved, he forced his feet into the familiar pattern, concentrating on the feel of polished cotton beneath his fingertips. He needed to know what happened with her husband if he was ever going to break the barriers standing between them. He knew that with a sudden clarity.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to know.”
“Why? What does it matter now?”
Russ guided them toward a quiet part of the dance floor. “I always feel as though you’re hiding something. As though you’re keeping a part of yourself hidden from me.”
“You know everything to know about me. I’m from Philadelphia. I have a sister. I’m a widow. I’m going to have a baby.”
“We’re going to have a baby. We’re a family now.”
She smiled. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that.”
“Why are you always surprised when I’m kind? I’d never hurt you or the baby. You know
that, don’t you?”
Straining away, she glanced over her shoulder. “I know.”
“Then what happened to you? You’re not the girl I knew.” Something twisted in his chest. “I thought I could be patient. I thought I could wait months and even years for a glimpse of that girl, but I was wrong. There’s a part of you that’s closed off to me, and I want to know why. Is it because of what happened with me and Charlotte?”
“No,” she replied, her voice thick. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“I’m trying to do everything right. Tell me what I’m doing wrong, and I’ll fix it. I promise.”
The desperation in her voice shattered something inside him. “You don’t have to fix anything. Not for me.”
They’d made their way to the side of the dance floor, and she broke away from him, pacing the darkness between the stage and the side of the new library. “Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“In what?”
“In me.”
“How can you even ask that?”
“I thought we were having a nice time.” She pressed a fist against her mouth. “Why do you want to know about him? I don’t want him to be a part of our lives.”
“He is part of our lives, as long as you let him be. I know he’s here, between us. You tiptoe around me like you’re afraid of me, and I’ve done nothing. I’ve done nothing to make you feel that way.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.
“But you don’t trust me.”
She rubbed her palms together. “Have you changed your mind?”
He scratched his head and turned in a frustrated circle. “About what?”
“About me.”
“No.” He caught her shoulders. “Of course not. Where did you get that idea?”
“The way you were talking just now. I’m trying, really I am. I shouldn’t have worked on the fund-raiser. I didn’t realize how much time it would it take. I’m not as tired anymore either. You’ll see everything will be different.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and her voice sounded tight when she added, “It’s not you. I promise.”
“Then what can I do differently?” He was desperate to reach her.
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