A Vote of Confidence

by Hatcher, Robin Lee

  Mother, even though you have said you never want to set eyes on Bethlehem Springs again, I hope you will make an exception for my wedding. Cleo would so very much like to spend some time with you too. Please don’t disappoint us.

  Morgan’s father and mother are both deceased, but he has a younger sister, Daphne, who has come from Boston for the summer. Dad and Cleo both think the world of Morgan and have already made him a member of our family.

  Dad is in good health. Cleo is the same as ever. And I am well too.

  If you can come, please send me a telegram rather than a letter. It will reach me so much sooner. You can stay with me in my home, which is small, or with Dad and Cleo at the ranch. Or if you would rather, Morgan would make you welcome to stay with him and Daphne.

  Please do come.

  With much love,

  Your daughter, Guinevere

  THIRTY-ONE

  A half hour after the swearing in ceremony concluded, Morgan leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and watched as Gwen ran her gloved fingertips over the surface of the large desk.

  Didn’t most mayors in America have gray beards and round bellies? Obviously the voters of Bethlehem Springs had better taste when choosing who would serve them. Just look at Gwen. She was more beautiful in that rose-colored dress and the matching wide-brimmed hat than he had seen her look before — and that was saying something.

  “Well, Madam Mayor. What do you think of your new office?”

  She lifted a somewhat bewildered gaze in his direction. “It’s a little surreal, isn’t it? I keep thinking I’ll wake up and find this whole thing has been a dream.”

  “It’s all real, Gwen.” He pushed off the doorjamb, closed the door with his foot, and crossed the room to take her in his arms. “And so is the love I feel for you.”

  “Good sir.” She tilted her head back to look at him. “Are you trying to influence city hall?”

  “Indeed, madam, I am.” He kissed her, something he’d wanted to do earlier but couldn’t with so many people around.

  All too soon, she pulled back from his embrace. “I’m expecting Mayor Hopkins any moment. He and I must discuss some matters before he leaves Bethlehem Springs.”

  “He’s leaving town that soon?”

  “Yes, for medical treatment at a hospital in Chicago.” She removed her hat and placed it on a bookcase beneath one of the windows. “I don’t know how long our meeting will last.”

  “Would you like me to come for you later?”

  She shook her head. “It’s hard to know when I’ll be finished.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Don’t worry about me. I’ll walk home when I’m through here.”

  “All right, then.” He leaned in to kiss her again. “Don’t shake things up too much on your first day in office.”

  Her laughter stayed with him long after he’d left the municipal building.

  It was nearing six in the evening by the time Gwen closed the thick law book on her desk. Her head swam with numbers and laws and rules and expectations and requests. What a day.

  Outside the open window in her office, the promise of evening had begun to spread shadows over the town. Music, laughter, and voices could be heard coming from the direction of the High Horse Saloon, located about a block away. If Idaho became a dry state, the High Horse would be forced to close its doors. Gwen had never been involved in the temperance movement, but she had to believe public drunkenness would become a thing of the past if Prohibition was enacted. That would be a relief to everyone.

  The air was still and unusually hot, which didn’t make for a pleasant walk home. By the time Gwen reached her gate, her dress was clinging to her, sticky with perspiration. What she wanted before dinner was a cool bath and something cold to drink.

  She was almost to the steps when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. There was someone on her porch. Maybe Morgan had —

  “Guinevere, at last.”

  Gwen drew in a breath. “Mother?”

  “Yes, dear. Believe it or not, I have come.”

  Gwen hurried up the steps and embraced her mother. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?”

  “I packed my bags the day I got your letter. I couldn’t let you plan a wedding without me. It will be difficult enough, living as you do in the middle of nowhere, to have a proper ceremony.”

  “Bethlehem Springs is not in the middle of nowhere, Mother, and we have churches and ministers who perform wedding ceremonies all the time.”

  “Mmm.”

  Gwen felt tension tightening her shoulders. “How long have you been waiting?”

  “Only an hour or so.”

  “If I’d known, I would have left my office and come straight home.” She thought longingly of the cool bath she’d planned to take. That would have to wait. “Today was the inauguration. I’m the mayor now.”

  “So I was told by the nice gentleman who gave me directions to your house.”

  “Aren’t you the littlest bit pleased for me?” Gwen hated the pleading note she heard in her voice.

  “I suppose if it’s what you want, Guinevere, then I’m glad.”

  She wished Morgan were with her. She wished she could see him smile at her as he had earlier in the day, could hear him tell her he was proud of her.

  “But I want to hear about your intended. How on earth did Morgan McKinley end up here? And now he’s engaged to you. There are young women on two continents who wanted to do what you have done.”

  “Shall we go inside, Mother? There’s no need for us to remain standing on the porch. And you must be hungry after your journey.”

  “No, I do not want to go inside and I am not hungry.” Her mother took hold of Gwen’s arm and drew her to the chairs on the porch. “Now sit down and answer my question.”

  There was no use resisting. Elizabeth Arlington could be as stubborn as either of her daughters. Gwen might as well tell her what she wanted to know. “Morgan is building a health resort just north of town. He came to Idaho over a year ago.”

  “He’s been living here all this time? And you never mentioned it once in your letters?”

  “I had no reason to mention him. I didn’t know him.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “You should have known I’d be interested. His family is held in esteem on both sides of t he Atlantic. In their day, the McKinley family hosted presidents and kings.” She shook her head. “And to think you almost settled for that Bryant Hudson fellow.”

  I almost settled for him? Gwen pressed her lips together, swallowing a retort. Her brief engagement to Bryant was her mother’s doing, not hers. How could her mother forget that?

  “Oh, my. I can tell you. My friends are green with envy since I told them who you are engaged to marry. What an achievement!”

  “It’s not an achievement, Mother. I didn’t ensnare him or win him. We fell in love.”

  “Love.” Her mother waved a hand, as if brushing away a pesky fly. “A woman is far better served finding a husband who can give her a comfortable life and a secure future. Love can come later, if at all. Women who fall in love first are only asking for heartache. You will regret it if you go into marriage floating on some silly cloud of emotions. You mark my words.”

  About an hour after they’d eaten dinner together, Morgan rapped on the door to his sister’s room. “Daphne? May I come in?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m decent.”

  He opened the door. “I thought I’d go over to Gwen’s for a while. See how her first day in office went. Care to come along?”

  “No, thank you.” She pointed to the open journal on the small desk. “I’m writing down some thoughts. Besides, you don’t need me along. I’m sure you’d like to be alone with your fiancée.”

  “Gwen and I want you to know you’re always welcome, whatever we’re doing.”

  Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Not always.”

  He couldn’t argue with her. S
he was right. He would like some time alone with Gwen. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. He wanted —

  “And before you ask me if I’m sure, yes, I’m sure. You go on and enjoy the evening. Like I said, I’m busy with my writing. I won’t even know you’re gone.”

  “Mother wrote faithfully in her journals all the years that I remember. It’s good one of us picked up the habit.”

  Daphne smiled. “I enjoy it. Writing has become a part of me, I guess.” She flicked her fingers at him. “Now go on before I lose my train of thought entirely.”

  This time Morgan didn’t hesitate. With a nod, he backed into the hall, closing the door as he went. Minutes later, he was in his motorcar and driving toward Gwen’s home.

  He’d thought of Gwen so often since he left her alone in the mayor’s office that morning. Had the day gone well for her? Was she loving the work or hating it? Had there been a spare moment in her day when she’d thought of him too?

  No matter what, he was certain she’d given her all. That was the way Gwen did everything. At least that was his opinion. Admittedly, he was biased.

  He turned onto Wallula and braked to a stop in front of her white fence. He hopped over the side of the car and strode up her walk. The front door was open, probably in hopes a breeze would blow through. Beyond the screen he heard two women’s voices. Someone had beaten him here. Whoever it was, Morgan would run her off in a hurry.

  He peered through the screen as he rapped on the doorjamb. “Gwen, it’s me. I came to hear about your first day in office.”

  A heartbeat later, Gwen appeared in the doorway to her bedroom. “Morgan,” she whispered. She didn’t look glad to see him.

  “Do you have a visitor?” He stepped inside, made uncertain by Gwen’s expression. “I thought I heard another voice.”

  “You did.” A woman — a stranger to him — appeared in the bedroom doorway, smiling broadly. “I’m Elizabeth Arlington. And you must be Morgan McKinley.” She moved toward him, her right arm outstretched. “What a pleasure it is to meet you, dear boy.”

  Morgan’s first impression of Gwen’s mother was that she was an undeniably handsome woman. However, he saw little resemblance to her daughters. Elizabeth’s hair was auburn rather than blonde, and her eyes were a watery green instead of blue. Perhaps Gwen had the same chin and Cleo the same nose.

  He shook hands with his future mother-in-law. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Arlington. I assure you.”

  “I could not believe it when I received Guinevere’s letter, telling me of her engagement to you. But Mr. McKinley, I cannot fathom why you chose to move to this godforsaken town when you have such beautiful family estates in the East. Surely that would be a more appropriate place for you and Guinevere to live and raise a family.”

  Obviously Elizabeth Arlington knew more than just his name. He’d wager she knew his entire history and the extent of the McKinley fortune as well. That would explain her haste to reach this town she so despised. He wasn’t completely surprised. Gwen had given him some warning about her mother. And of course he’d known other women like Elizabeth Arlington.

  His gaze returned to Gwen. Her internal conflict was written in her eyes. The Gwen he knew best — the one who wasn’t afraid to run for mayor, the one who could stand up to the disapproval of her neighbors and who could live independently — had disappeared from view.

  Elizabeth clapped her hands. “But now I am here and we can begin to plan a proper wedding.”

  Gwen closed her eyes. If only the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She never should have mentioned Morgan’s name in her letter. If her mother had thought she was marrying a man of humble means, she might not have come for the wedding at all. But Gwen had wanted her here. Just not like this.

  Another knock sounded at the door, and she looked to see who it was, glad for any intrusion.

  Fagan Doyle stood on the other side of the screen. “Morgan, I need to speak with you.”

  “W hat is it? ” Morgan pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch. “Trouble?”

  Fagan lowered his voice, but not enough that Gwen couldn’t hear him. “One of the guards found dynamite not far from the bathhouse. In the forest just below it.”

  “Dynamite?”

  “I’m thinking someone brought it there with plans to use it. Maybe he got scared away by one of the guards. Maybe it was left there until a better opportunity.”

  “It’s escalating.”

  “Aye, it is that.”

  Gwen moved toward the door. “What’s escalating?”

  “Someone doesn’t want the spa to get finished.” Morgan looked at her through the screen. “We’ve had a few cases of vandalism, but until now it hasn’t put anyone in danger. It’s just cost us time and money.” His jaw clenched. “This is different.” He faced Fagan again. “Carter’s gone too far this time.”

  “Carter?” Gwen pushed open the screen door. “Harrison Carter?”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped outside. “You think he has something to do with the vandalism. But why?”

  “He’s made it clear he doesn’t think the spa will be good for the town.”

  “I know that. But it doesn’t mean he would destroy property or try to dynamite the spa. That’s absurd. Where is your proof? You can’t accuse him without proof of some kind.”

  Morgan’s gaze was hard as it met hers. “He’s a dangerous man, Gwen.”

  “Oh, Morgan. I know you don’t like him. He isn’t my favorite person either. But dangerous?”

  “I can’t explain it. It’s something I feel in my gut. Carter’s failed to buy me out or force me out so far, and now he’s getting desperate. There’s no telling what he might do next.” Morgan took hold of her shoulders. “Steer clear of him, Gwen.”

  “How am I to do that? He and I will be working together on — ”

  Morgan’s fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Stay away from him. Stay home if you must. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “I’m the mayor.” Anger sparked inside her, and she jerked free of his grasp. “I intend to do my job.”

  “And I’m telling you it isn’t safe. I want you to stay at home until I can make sure you are.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. She was the mayor. She had duties and obligations. And because he suspected Harrison Carter of some misdeed, Morgan now expected her to ignore those duties — because he said so. What gave him that right? She didn’t need his protection. She certainly didn’t need him to tell her what she could or could not do.

  “I think you and Mr. Doyle should go,” she said softly. “It sounds like you have important things to do.”

  “Gwen — ”

  “Just go. I need to get Mother settled in for the night. She’s exhausted from her journey, and I’m feeling tired myself. It’s been a full day.”

  “All right. We’ll go. But promise me you’ll — ”

  “Please go, Morgan. I’m too tired to argue with you.”

  “I didn’t mean for us to argue.”

  He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her cheek to him at the last moment.

  “Good night, Morgan.”

  Gwen was right, of course. Morgan had no proof that Harrison Carter had been behind any of the troubles they’d experienced at New Hope. He’d had his suspicions almost from the start, but without proof, there hadn’t been anything to say or do. Besides, he’d thought once Harrison saw the spa succeeding, once he saw it bringing prosperity and progress to the town, he would give up, go away, leave things alone.

  He didn’t think so anymore. Everything in Morgan said that not only was Carter behind these troubles, but his desperation to force Morgan out had made him dangerous. Why couldn’t Gwen see that?

  THIRTY-TWO

  Gwen arose after a torturous, sleepless night on the cot in her small office, her mind made up. She would break her engagement. They weren’t even married and Morgan expected her to obey him. How
much worse might it be after they wed? No, breaking the engagement was the only thing she could do. She could take care of herself. She’d lived on her own for more than seven years now. She would be happy to continue living alone in the future.

  Happy? Well, perhaps not happy. Maybe content was the better word. She would be content. The ache in her heart would ease with time.

  She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her dressing gown and made her way to the kitchen to prepare coffee and was surprised to see that her mother was up and seated at the table.

  “Good morning, Mother. I didn’t expect to see you up this early.” She filled the coffeepot with water. “Did you sleep well?”

  “No, my dear, I did not. Your bed is rather uncomfortable. I’m sure that the beds at the McKinley home are of better quality. Perhaps I should do as you suggested in your letter and go to stay with Mr. McKinley and his sister.”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea, Mother.” She turned to face the table. “I… I’m calling off the wedding.”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m not going to marry Morgan after all. I thought about it all night long, and I realize I can’t go through with it.”

  “Good heavens, Guinevere! You’ll never have an opportunity to marry a man like Morgan McKinley again. You are not exactly in your prime, you know. Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away?”

  Her heart was shattering into a million pieces. Wasn’t that proof enough that she knew what she was throwing away?

  “Now you listen to me, young lady. I will not — ”