As if sensing what Misty was thinking, Mrs. Mills turned toward the doorway. “Ah! What excellent timing. I’ve a few things to speak to my son about. You will excuse me, will you not, my dear?”
“Surely, Mrs. Mills,” Misty said as pleasantly as she could, watching the woman depart with a mixture of regret and irritation. She understood that Mrs. Mills would want the best for her son, and she was only a maid. Yet it seemed Mrs. Mills had invited her solely to have a chance to jab at her with veiled insults all night. What was the point in such an undertaking?
Their encounter did affirm one thing. Olivia indeed had thought she was just a scullery maid, one who likely would have made mistakes all the evening, and Misty had a sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Mills had counted on it when she had invited her in the first place.
Chapter 11
Indiana made her way back to Misty’s side. “What happened? I could see you looked distressed.”
“We were civil with one another,” Misty assured her friend, wanting to put the whole thing behind her as quickly as possible. The situation between her and Mrs. Mills was what it was. She did not want to spoil the evening by voicing her suspicions. “Please do not dwell on it. Everything is fine.”
Indiana did not look convinced, but she kept her thoughts on the matter to herself. To Misty’s relief, Indiana soon provided a distraction by pointing out various members of the town. Misty could not even begin to imagine trying to keep up at a ball in a larger city.
“That one over there is the town deputy.” Indiana nudged Misty to point out a rather large man. The man seemed to favor one leg as he walked, nothing overly obvious at a glance.
“How did he get that limp?” Misty asked, as her imagination started to run away from her. A fight with a bandit? A stampede maybe?
“He shot himself in the foot.” Indiana was so matter of fact that Misty was sure that she meant it figuratively. However, as she was about to ask for details, Indiana elaborated. “According to my husband, he was showing off some fancy twirling and whatnot with his pistol, and he did not have the safety on when he holstered it. Bang.”
Misty looked at her with a dubious expression. “Surely that has to be a rumor. They couldn’t possibly keep someone who would shoot himself in the foot in charge of the law?
Indiana shrugged, “Honestly, there were worse in leadership back in the city.”
Misty could not argue with that. The city political structure was rife with favoritism and incompetence. But at least here, it seemed to be a little less of the case. Or that’s what she hoped. It was still too early to know for certain.
Indiana pointed out a few more figures from the town, but it was like trying to catch mist. The names and faces simply refused to stick in her mind. Trying to learn a whole mob at once was an exercise in futility, but at least it distracted from more troubling thoughts.
Misty’s attention suddenly turned to one person in particular milling in the crowd. The gentleman was dressed in a fine suit that looked like it was custom fit just for him. He cut such a handsome figure, she could not help but stare.
Cody was always a handsome man. She had been attracted to him since he made his appearance in the city. Tonight, he could have been mistaken for a prince, or a young duke at the very least. He was dressed in a fine suit, every button and buckle shining with perfection. He could have come straight out of a fairy tale, if she believed in such things.
The prince in question seemed intent upon finding someone. He studied the crowd with a creased brow as he made his way around the groups, speaking or sampling the various foods available on perfect little silver platters. She felt a small pang of disappointment as his eyes passed over her. Someone else was on his mind at the moment, perhaps. A guest of Olivia’s? A friend? She knew she was not the only person he would need to spend time with tonight. Still, she could not hold back a childish twinge of jealousy over who might command his attention at this moment. Misty was torn between trying to catch his eye, and letting him hunt down the person he was seeking. Then their eyes finally met.
Cody stood frozen, scarcely seeming to notice the other guests as they brushed by him. He gazed at her from head to foot. She felt her face warm at the lingering stare as he assessed her.
Indiana smiled as she looked from Misty to Cody and back again. “I am going to find my husband.”
Misty felt a small wave of panic as Indiana excused herself. It was all she could do not to grasp her friend by the arm and hold her in place. She had held her own when she encountered Olivia, but she felt far from ready to be left unsupervised in the middle of a place like this, especially with a dashing man that seemed at a loss for words at her appearance.
Yet even as she turned to ask her friend to linger a moment more, Indiana had already disappeared into the crowd. She glanced back at Cody with a shy smile.
Cody regained his senses and quickly made his way toward her. “Miss Misty, I do apologize. I intended to meet you at the door, but I ran late getting here, I am afraid. Have you been here long?”
“Not so long.” Misty shook her head. He smiled, his shoulders relaxing at her denial.
“I shall make it up to you nevertheless. A gentleman should never leave a lady, especially one as lovely as you, waiting. I am surprised that no one tried to steal you away in my tardiness.”
Misty smiled at the exaggerated compliment. She did not think herself to be nearly so intriguing, especially in this company, but it was still nice to hear, especially from him.
“You were lucky,” she said with a smile, playing into the game just a little. “They didn’t have time to notice before you got here.”
“Then they must be blind. I scarcely recognized you. For a moment I thought you were one of Mother’s guests from out of town.” He brow furrowed slightly in remembrance as he regarded her. “Speaking of such—have you and my mother crossed paths tonight?”
Misty felt her smile become a little more strained at the mention, but she did her best to look nonchalant at the mention of his mother. “We had a brief chat, yes.”
“Is everything all right?” he asked, concern apparent on his face. “I shall talk to her.”
“No!” Misty said quickly, then gave a reassuring smile. “Thank you, but this is something we have to work out for ourselves.”
As much as Misty would love to have him ride to the rescue, she did not want to come between him and his mother. When it came down to it, Olivia would not accept her until she was ready to, if ever. Never was a very distinct possibility, and a worrisome one at that.
“Please tell me if things become too much,” he continued. I know she can be set in her ways.”
Misty shook her head. “Please, let us get used to each other at our own pace.”
Cody gave a brief nod, but Misty had no doubt he was not convinced. It made her ponder what he heard from his mother when Misty was not around to hear. He acted as if he’d had a struggle of his own to deal with in that matter.
They both paused as the music changed to a slow waltz. Cody tilted his head slightly to listen to the tune, and a smile spread on his face as he reached out a hand toward her. “I shall leave the matter in your capable hands. In the, meantime however, may I have this dance?”
Misty could not find an argument for that. She smiled as she reached out and placed her hand into his palm. He gently wrapped his strong fingers around her small hand and led her to the dance floor.
* * *
“You look lovely tonight.” he said, as they glided along the dance floor. The song had faded into another, or perhaps it was a third. She’d lost track somewhere along the line. He guided their steps masterfully, his hand resting gently but firmly on the small of her back. It was a comforting feeling. The crowds around them seemed further away. The voices were a faint drone just outside their corner of existence.
Misty wished that she could just stay here forever, stepping softly to the music in his arms. She had never felt so at peace as in this moment. Every
thing suddenly seemed a distant memory, her troubles with Mrs. Mills, getting accustomed to a new town, the ball—everything seemed so trivial compared to here and now.
“You dance beautifully.” Cody gazed down into her eyes.
She could stare into his eyes all day, given the chance. They were so warm, so kind. He pulled her in a little closer, and she rested her head softly against his chest as they moved. She knew the music should have drowned it out, but she could swear that she could hear his heart beat. A steady, soothing drum beneath the strings and flutes of a quartet in the back of the room.
All too soon the song ended. She was sorely tempted to pretend not to notice, and Cody seemed to feel likewise. They simply lingered in the dance floor in each other’s embrace, waiting for a new song that did not come. A few eyes watched them as they stood there almost past the time of propriety.
Eventually, they parted and walked from the dance floor arm in arm. Misty stole a glance at the handsome man at her side. Was this all a dream? If it were, it would kill her to wake up from it. She wanted to savor the moment forever.
“I am happy that you accepted the invitation. It was on such short notice, that I half feared that you would not make it.”
“Only half afraid?” she teased as he kissed the back of her hand, letting his thumb run across the knuckles of her fingers before reluctantly letting her go. She instantly missed the warmth of his touch, restraining an urge to rest her hand back in his a moment more. That brazen act would certainly go well past propriety.
“Perhaps more than half,” he admitted with a kindly smile. “Yet I am happy to be right. You are brightening up a monotonous night.”
She smiled, not bothering to deny the exaggeration. She never imagined that she would be so happy to be in such a position. Who knew a ball could have such a deep impact on someone?
“Allow me get you a refreshment,” he said with his charming smile, excusing himself once more. She suppressed a sigh as she watched him go, half tempted to grab him by the coat sleeve and follow him into the crowd. She managed to hold back her childish impulse, surprised at how many such impulses she had this evening.
Misty gazed over the crowd, seeing it in a new light after the dance. She could not help but feel a little closer to the town at that moment. She even found herself hoping that it would be home to her before long.
Maybe at the next ball I will be Mrs. Cody Mills. Misty shook her head at herself. She was never one to give into her fantasies. Until she had responded to his letter, she had never entertained such thoughts so brazenly! Maybe that was a good thing.
Misty froze as she saw a lady in the crowd glaring at her intently. But before she could get a good look at the person, she disappeared into the crowd like a ghost. Misty felt an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Chapter 12
Misty stood in front of Rosamund’s opulent home, noting once again at how beautiful it looked from the outside. It almost looked like a small palace, its large pillars holding it upright as the sun gleamed off the home’s many windows.
“Good afternoon, my lady. Miss Swire has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. May I show you to her at once?” the kind, raspy voice asked.
“Yes, thank you,” Misty replied, nodding slightly as she flashed a smile.
With that, she was headed toward uncertainty, a place that looked warm and welcoming, but she knew the person behind it all was anything but. As the butler opened the front door, Misty followed behind closely, amazed at how the magnificence of the interior far succeeded the exterior.
“This way, my lady,” he said.
They walked slowly down a long hallway, its olive tiles paving the way like colored bricks with patterns etched into them. The walls were a beige color, with a decorative finish that showcased beautiful, vibrant flowers throughout the long corridor. Several portraits hung on those walls, most likely portraying the lineage of Rosamund’s family.
One of the portraits was a painting of an older, refined woman from years past. She and Rosamund looked alike in some ways, but the smile on the old woman’s face seemed more sincere than any Misty had seen on Rosamund’s face since she arrived in Wyoming. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped moving, entirely captured by the image of the woman.
“There you are,” said a familiar voice.
Misty turned, her heart falling as she saw Rosamund. “I’m so sorry, Miss Swire. I didn’t see you there.”
“Oh, there’s no reason to apologize,” Rosamund said, an exaggerated smile creasing her lips. “I see you are admiring this particular painting. This was my great grandmother. She is said to have ruled this family with an iron fist for decades. Of course the men will never admit to such a thing,” she added, laughing loudly at her own remark.
Misty smiled out of courtesy, but she must have left her sense of humor at home, because nothing about Rosamund seemed funny to her in the slightest. Rosamund stood there beside Misty, talking to her as if they were friends, but Misty knew otherwise. There had to be a reason that she was invited.
“Shall we retire to the parlor for tea and cakes?” Rosamund asked, still smiling brightly.
“That would be splendid,” Misty said with a forced smile. It was a tiresome game to pretend to be so happy all the time, but it was a routine to which she had grown accustomed.
Rosamund now stood at the end of the hallway, only a few feet away from the portrait of her great grandmother. She motioned for Misty to enter as the butler walked by, and then walked toward a setting of chairs.
Misty sat in the chair opposite of Rosamund, placing her purse on the floor beside her. She was unable to keep her eyes from wandering around the room. The far end was lined with two pillars at its entrance, while a large, beautiful fireplace stood front and center on the wall. “This is quite lovely,” she said.
“Thank you,” Rosamund said “I just wanted to meet with you to welcome you to town. Are you finding it suitable?”
“Yes, it is much different to San Francisco, but a refreshing change of scenery nonetheless.”
On the table sat a small tray of cakes. They were small, square-shaped pastries with four smaller squares on them which alternated between red and white.
“You must try one,” Rosamund said.
Misty wondered what Rosamund was up to. She knew the woman had her heart set on Cody and that Cody’s mother was encouraging the match. Cody had told her so at the ball. And while she trusted Cody completely, she did not trust Miss Rosamund Swire, not one little bit. Still, the woman was hardly likely to poison her, so she reached out for a cake.
The cakes, however, were set on a table out of her reach. Rosamund picked up a single cake already deposited on a fine porcelain plate and extended it to Misty. As Misty touched the plate, it fell to the ground. It was clear to Misty that Rosamund had deliberately dropped the plate
“Would you call for a maid?” Rosamund asked. “The bell is on the wall just outside the parlor.”
Misty swallowed hard. What was Rosamund up to? There was a bell next to Rosamund, after all. Still, Misty could hardly point that out, so she walked out of the room to ring the bell for the maid.
Misty returned and was about to take her seat, when Rosamund stood up abruptly. “Our meeting is over. I do have another pressing appointment.”
“Thank you for your invitation.”
“My pleasure, my pleasure entirely,” Rosamund said, looking smug and pleased with herself. “Carson will show you out.”
Misty was unsure what to make of such an odd encounter. Misty picked up her purse and followed Carson to the door. She was increasingly anxious. Something about the entire meeting had felt wrong, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on the reason. Perhaps it was nothing, she thought.
Chapter 13
Even hours after she had returned to Indiana and Morgan’s ranch, Misty’s mind was still clouded with thoughts about her meeting with Rosamund. It hadn’t gone quite how she had expected it to, but the abrup
t ending was what filled her with the most concern. She could not figure out precisely why her stomach felt like it was in knots, but one thing was clear: something didn’t seem right.
Shrugging off the odd sensation, Misty spent a pleasant morning with Indiana. When there was a heavy knock at the door, both women exchanged glances.
“Who could that be?” Indiana asked, before crossing the room. She soon returned with a tall, burly gentleman behind her. He wore a dark brown vest and a large, wide-brimmed hat atop his sandy hair. It wasn’t until they were upon her that Misty noticed the shiny, star-shaped badge that was tacked to his lapel. Was that the sheriff?
“Is something wrong?” Misty asked. At once, the most awful feeling of foreboding overwhelmed her.
Indiana nodded, crossing her arms as she stood there, presumably to hide her trembling hands. “This is Sheriff Baker. He needs to speak with you about something.”
Misty swallowed hard as her throat tightened. She had an uneasy feeling that the man’s sudden arrival did not bode well for her
“Let us sit in the drawing room to discuss this matter, if you’d like, Sheriff,” Indiana said.
Misty wondered why the law had come to good friend’s home.
After they had taken their seats in the drawing room, Indiana spoke first. “Sheriff, I’m not quite sure why you’ve come all this way, but if there is anything that I can do to assist you, please just let me know.”
“Well, there is something you can do,” he said, clearing his throat as he leaned forward in the chair. “Miss Fields, can you tell me where you were today? Any place other than this ranch?”
Misty paused for a moment, thinking carefully about where she had gone that day—but it didn’t take long for the thought of Rosamund to pop back into her mind. That woman’s house had been the only stop she had made all day. “I only left the ranch for a short time earlier. I met with an acquaintance at her house in town, but I have not been anywhere else.”
Misty's True Love (Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 2) Page 6