“Morning, Lena. Where did you get that dress?”
“Made it a couple of years ago. I was going to Denver for a few days.” She came down the steps and took Nathan’s arm. No one paid them any attention as they walked down the street. People were getting used to seeing them together. Maybe too used to seeing them. A couple of Lena’s regular clients seemed to feel that way. Nathan had found out they weren’t clients any more.
Her hazel eyes had their usual effect on his pulse as she looked up at him. “Quiet night?”
“Average. Bruce Allen, Drew Holland, and Mark James.” Bruce hadn’t learned much from the poker game. He was still a magnet for bad company.
On the other hand, Lena’s ‘friend’ Hank had caused no more trouble since the night of his encounter with Nathan. Maybe he’d learned something, or maybe it was just that his hand was still sore.
They passed the same poster Nathan had walked by earlier. He knew Lena wouldn’t be working the night of the dance. Under pressure from the town council, the saloon always closed early that night. It didn’t make much sense for either of them to spend the evening alone. “Got plans for that evening?”
After an awkward few seconds, Lena looked at Nathan out of the corner of her eye. “No.”
Nathan said nothing more about it until they were seated at their table at Mrs. Grant’s. Along with the table she kept in the dining room for her boarders, Harriet had three smaller tables in another room for drop-ins. This morning, Nathan and Lena were the only customers in the ‘restaurant’.
“I won’t be going to the dance, either. I’ll have to be around town keeping an eye on things, but there’s no reason you can’t come over to the office for the evening. I’ll be in and out. Don’t see much point in you sitting in your room alone.”
Lena stirred some sugar into her coffee, taking her time before she answered. “I don’t think so.”
Nathan put on a teasing smile. He’d never seen her back down from a challenge. “How’s that different than having breakfast here?”
Holding her cup in both hands, Lena leaned on her elbows and looked him in the eye. “It’s different. We’re friends, Nate. Let’s keep it that way. You’re going to ruin my business at this rate, which is probably just what you have in mind. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
Nathan said nothing more. He didn’t have to. Lena refused to show it, but he knew he got under her skin.
“Did you see Jake Montrose when he left Neil’s last night?” she asked a bit too carelessly as they finished their breakfast. “You should have locked him up, too. He probably would have appreciated it. He wouldn’t have dared go home to Mama in that condition.”
Nathan downed the last of his coffee. “No, I didn’t see him. He must have found a place to go. I’ve told the Montroses what he’s up to, but they’re deaf and blind where Jake’s concerned. I’ve got a stack of paperwork waiting. See you later.”
He paid his bill and left. Lena would never let him pay hers. She’d made that clear the first time he tried. He knew she’d linger over her coffee until she was sure he was back in his office before returning to Neil’s.
Oh, he got to her, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
The last week before the concert went by in a blur for Beth, between getting her dress finished, drilling the performers, and painting backdrops – the only painting she was getting done. Of course, regular daily chores went on as well.
“You’re going to run yourself into the ground,” Trey told her one evening when they were sitting out on the doorstep after supper. As the evenings grew gentler and longer, it had become their favorite place to relax at the end of the day.
Beth laughed, then sighed. “I’m fine. I’ll slow down once it’s over. I’m enjoying it all, but it’ll be nice to get back to my own work for a change.”
“Is everyone behaving themselves?”
“Yes, they are. The girls actually know their lines, and the boys are getting close. You should see Jack Barron as Mr. Winkle. He must be black and blue from tumbling around at the rehearsals. Holly’s got her two songs down cold. She can’t come to the rehearsals, but she practices when she’s here. We finished my dress yesterday.”
Trey shook his head. “Beth, when we get around to having an election, I think you should run for mayor of Wallace Flats. You’d have things running like clockwork.”
“No, thank you. I’ve done my bit for the community for a while. Why don’t you run?”
“Me? No. I figure you’re a better general than I am.”
Beth looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to take that as a compliment. Otherwise, I’d have to assume you’re saying I’m bossy.”
Trey grinned. “Mark Twain says, ‘It’s better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you’re a fool, than to open it and remove all doubt.’ One of these days, I’ll remember that before I open my mouth instead of after.” He pressed a quick kiss to Beth’s mouth.
She tried for crispness and failed. “You’d better.”
Trey rose and headed for the barn to check on Eve.
Beth sat there while the twilight deepened, with Trey’s taste still on her lips. He’d asked her once if she thought she could live in a house like his for the rest of her life. The question no longer brought up thoughts of what she’d be giving up if she stayed. Now, Beth questioned what she’d be losing if she left.
After a few more hectic days, the only thing left to be done for the concert was to fasten the painted backdrops to wooden frames, which had to wait until the platform was complete. That didn’t happen until the morning of the concert itself. Beth drove into town after breakfast to hold a last rehearsal. Trey would ride in later, unless Eve chose today to have her foal and he had to stay with her.
Jack Barron and his friends had managed to come up with performers for the other roles in their Pickwick scene, by methods Beth chose not to probe. She’d painted a winter scene for them, and a dark cavern backdrop for the girls on the paper the Bakers donated. As the boys nailed the backdrops to their frames, Beth prayed that the evening wouldn’t be windy. At least there was no threat of rain.
Later, the saloon started humming as people from the outlying homesteads made their way into town, businesses closed, and the townspeople joined the general celebration.
Beth spent the afternoon at John and Hannah’s, getting increasingly jittery. She knew a lot of her performers were more nervous than she was, which didn’t help at all.
Early in the afternoon, she’d seen Simon Grier slouch into the saloon. She hoped he’d be too far gone to move by the time the concert started. She hadn’t asked, but she didn’t think Holly had told her father she was taking part.
At twilight, people started to bring out chairs and assemble in front of the platform. Behind the blankets they’d strung up as a curtain, Beth marshaled the younger school children into rows and checked her watch. They should be starting, but the Masons’ three young ones hadn’t appeared and Mrs. Mason would be offended if they began without them – thank goodness, there they were now. Beth hurried them into their places and nodded at Reverend Baxter, the master of ceremonies.
Neil had flatly refused to close the saloon that early, and a shouted obscenity carried clearly from his porch to the stage during one of the children’s songs. Beth’s face burned behind the curtain. Then, Spencer Hall got up and played through a set of fiddle tunes that ranged from haunting slow airs to jigs and reels. Beth forgot her nerves as she listened. Spencer had real music in him.
Holly was next on the program. As she stepped to the front of the platform in her new green dress, Beth crossed her fingers. If this performance went badly, it might be enough to keep Holly from trying again.
By the lake where droops the willow
Long time ago,
Where the rock threw back the billow,
Whiter than snow…
Holly’s voice grew stronger and steadier as she settled into the Copeland ballad. Scanni
ng the crowd, Beth saw appreciation on most faces and a little astonishment on some. Holly was singing well.
Her second song was a lively one that she had found in a book of Mrs. Henderson’s.
My love has gone to France
To seek his fortune in advance,
If he comes home there’s but a chance…
I’ll sell my rod, I’ll sell my reel,
I’ll sell my only spinning wheel,
To buy my love a sword of steel.
The audience began clapping to the song’s lilting beat. Spencer picked up his fiddle. Holly nodded to him and he joined her. When they finished the duet, the audience whistled and cheered. After a quick bow, Holly fled.
Beth met her backstage with a hug. “You’re going to have to learn to make an exit, Holly. You couldn’t have done better. Congratulations.”
A blush spread over Holly’s face. “Thanks. They did like it, didn’t they?”
Beth laughed. “They certainly did.”
There was a brief pause while the backdrop for the witch scene was lifted into place. With a moment to think, Beth realized two things. The first was that it was her birthday. She was twenty-four. It had slipped her mind in all the hurry and excitement of the day. The second was that Trey seemed to have forgotten it as well.
* * *
As soon as Beth left for town, Trey fetched her birthday present from the barn. Since buying the wood, he’d snatched a little time every day while Beth was occupied away from the barn, to work on the project – a carved frame for the picture of Cloud that she’d drawn the day of their first ride together, and of their first argument. He’d gotten Frank Baker to have the glass cut for him on a trip to Denver.
Beth likely thought Trey had forgotten that today was the day, that he didn’t care enough to remember. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d tried to tell her how he felt about her – hell, he tried after every kiss – but the words just wouldn’t come. When a man went to war as a boy, and then settled in a place where women were few and far between, he didn’t learn to say what a woman needed to hear. A problem, because he couldn’t expect Beth to wait much longer. Next spring? She’d be gone long before then if he didn’t speak his piece, didn’t tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
If only she weren’t so obviously meant for more than Trey could ever give her, with her talent, looks, and breeding. As much as he’d liked some of the planters’ daughters at home, and as much as they’d liked him, he wouldn’t have dreamed of proposing to any of them – and they wouldn’t have dreamed of accepting. Beth might not have money any longer, but that didn’t change the real differences between them.
When Trey finished with the picture, he headed out to take care of the barn work. He looked in on Eve first. She seemed uncomfortable, as Beth had noticed that morning. “You’ve had enough of feeling big and clumsy, haven’t you?” she’d said. “Be patient just a little longer. It’ll all be over soon.”
By the time Trey finished the chores, Eve had started pacing her stall. He put a hand on the mare’s side and felt a contraction ripple through her.
“You sure know how to pick your time, don’t you?” So much for the concert. Maybe the dance, too. He hated to disappoint Beth, especially today, but it couldn’t be helped. Resigned, Trey settled down to watch the birth.
* * *
By the time everything was ready onstage for the Macbeth dialogue, it was almost dark – perfect for the candlelit witch scene. Neil’s place had closed and the rowdies had dispersed until the dance, so things were quiet for the moment.
Beth had worried that the girls would get nervous and make the scene gruesome rather than eerie, but they didn’t. When Martha finished the piece with By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes, they got an honest round of applause. Then the set had to be changed for the boys’ scene, which finished the show.
Trey hadn’t appeared yet. The first reason that came to Beth’s mind was Eve. If it were another difficult foaling, he wouldn’t find anyone to help him. Maddy and Logan were in town, too. Beth put aside her worry and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. In a few minutes, the backdrop was up and lanterns hung around the platform. The curtains opened to reveal the skating pond with Mr. Pickwick and friends gathering.
With perfect timing, Jack flailed around as Mr. Winkle. His friend Hugh Johnson did Sam Weller almost as well as Trey. Then, Jack tripped and staggered into the corner of the backdrop. The frame collapsed and the whole contraption fell on top of the boys. The female characters at the side of the stage shrieked, then burst into gales of laughter. As a finale, Jack’s head pushed through the paper. The audience cheered and whistled. They sat through Reverend Baxter’s closing remarks more or less politely and dispersed, still chuckling, to come back in half an hour for the dance.
Beth, Reverend Baxter, and the boys cleared away the mess on the platform. Jack couldn’t have been happier. His performance would be remembered now for years instead of days. Beth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but eventually her sense of humor asserted itself. In spite of it all, she savored a sense of accomplishment. They’d made a few dollars for the church relief fund and she’d gotten to know almost every face in town. Now, if only Trey would show up.
Back at the Reeves’ house, Beth changed into her new blue dress for the dance. Through an open window, she heard Spencer tuning his fiddle. People started to gather again. She was beginning to panic when Trey and Cloud cantered up the street. Beth stepped outside to meet them.
Trey pulled his horse up, looked her over, and let out a low whistle.
Beth’s dress clung to her body down to the waist, then flared over her hips and fell in three graceful tiers to the floor. She’d been devoutly thankful when hoops went out. This softer look became her much better. The scooped neckline showed just a hint of cleavage, which brought a smile to Trey’s face. “So, this is the dress.”
Beth blushed. “Is it too revealing?”
His smile widened to a grin. “Is there such a thing?”
“Trey!”
He dismounted and gathered her in his arms. “Sorry I’m late, but Eve decided it was time for a party of her own.”
He wouldn’t be here if the foaling hadn’t gone well. Beth laughed with relief. “I thought that might have happened. Colt or filly?”
Trey gave her an exuberant kiss. “A bay colt with legs a mile long. Everything went like clockwork. How was the concert?”
“Memorable.” Beth told him about it a few minutes later, as they walked over to the square ahead of John and Hannah.
Spencer played the opening bars of The Ash Grove and the dance began. As they eased into the waltz, Beth looked up in surprise. Trey guided her as smoothly as if he’d been doing it all his life. “You’re good at this.”
“There were plenty of dances and parties at home. Happy birthday, Beth.”
So, he hadn’t forgotten. Beth moved closer and smiled up at him. “It’s the happiest one I’ve ever had.” Then she gave herself up to enjoyment of the night. She’d survived the concert, Eve had given birth safely, and Trey looked handsome and delightfully out of character in his charcoal broadcloth suit and cream brocade vest. She had never felt more like dancing.
* * *
Standing on the sidelines with Ben, Holly still glowed with excitement over the concert. Her energy made him feel shy. Holly had a toughness about her that scared Ben a little at times. After a few minutes, he worked up the courage to reach for her hand. “Your songs sounded great. Were you nervous?”
“A little at the beginning, but not for long. I was just happy that the audience was enjoying it.”
Holly’s gaze strayed to the stage, watching Spencer as he played. To Ben she seemed a million miles away, but then she turned and smiled at him. It gave him some nerve. “Would you like to dance?”
“Sure.”
As they joined the others, Ben’s father caught his eye and winked.
His mother rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, John, you’d think you were fifteen yourself,” Ben heard her say.
His father grinned and kissed her. “You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to grow up.”
* * *
To Lena, sitting in her room, the music sounded muted and dreamy, like a hazy memory of something that had happened a long time ago. She closed her window to shut it out.
She supposed Nathan would have given up expecting her at his office by now. He’d never said anything more about them spending the evening together, but the unspoken challenge had still been there. If she’d thought he’d read her absence as indifference, that would be fine, but she knew he wouldn’t. Maybe she should have gone to meet him after all.
He’d be out there unobtrusively watching the dance, keeping an eye open for trouble. He might be outside Neil’s place right now. Lena closed her curtains and pulled a dress from her wardrobe. The hem needed stitching in a couple of places.
It’s no good, Lena. You don’t know how to be the kind of woman he’s looking for. You don’t want to be that kind of woman. Time to move on.
The truth, plain and simple. Too bad the truth made her feel so rotten.
The tricky part would be getting out of town without Nathan catching her and probably throwing her in jail again. Lena had enough cash to live on for two or three months, so it made sense to head to Denver, but she didn’t like the thought of working in any of the places she knew there. For the first time, Lena considered finding another line of work. She could clerk in a store or wait tables. There had to be something.
Damn you to hell, Nathan Munroe.
Lena threw the dress on the bed and started stuffing clothes into a suitcase. Nate usually kept an eye on the stage when it came in, mostly to be aware of strangers coming into town. He wasn’t as concerned about passengers getting on. If she wore something he hadn’t seen and fixed her hair differently, she might have a chance…
To Capture the Sky (Choices of the Heart, book 2) Page 17