by Stacy Henrie
“Was she older or younger than you?”
“Younger by a year. But she still loved to best me in chess.” He smiled at the memory of Liza’s grin—not so unlike Maggy’s of moments ago—when she was victorious at a game. “She was most competitive when it came to our education, though. She wanted to learn and know all of the subjects her brothers did.”
They reached a stream and both allowed their horses to drink. “And did she learn those things?” Maggy asked, with a note of what sounded like more than curiosity.
“Not as well as she would have liked.” Edward kicked at a clump of grass, remembering the times he’d found Liza crying in frustration that she couldn’t go to school like he and their brothers had. “Our parents were adamant she learn the things other well-bred ladies learned, which didn’t include commerce or politics or science. I did give her my school texts whenever I could.”
He turned to look at Maggy. Her auburn hair glowed in the sunlight, but her blue-eyed gaze still appeared troubled. “It was not my intent to insult your desire to win, Maggy. I simply recognized in you the same spirit of competition I saw in my sister.”
“Is she still in England? Your sister?”
Sadness rose inside him at the question. “No. She passed away when she was fifteen.”
“Oh.” She glanced his way, her expression one of surprise and compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that, Edward. Were you...were you two close?”
He dipped his chin in a nod. “Quite close. She might have been younger in age, but she possessed the wisdom of someone much older. At times, she was more a mother to me than our own.”
Maggy faced the stream and nearby mountains, an almost wistful expression on her face.
“Do you have siblings?”
Shaking her head, she folded her arms. He recognized the telltale sign of her nervousness, of a need to protect herself. It reminded Edward of a horse they’d broken last year—one he’d been more than happy to buy, especially after learning the animal had been mistreated by its previous owner. At first, the horse had acted much like Maggy, stubborn and strong-willed and unwilling to let Edward or McCall get too close.
“It was just me and my pa,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “My mother died when I was a girl.”
He sensed she didn’t want his sympathy, so he changed the subject. “You ride quite well.”
“For a woman?” she countered, though her posture had relaxed and her blue eyes now sparked with amusement.
Edward chuckled. “For anyone. And I mean that.”
“I know you do.” She spoke so softly again he almost missed her response.
This simple statement of trust—in him and his word—struck him hard in the chest. He might have known her less than twenty-four hours, and yet, Edward had quickly realized Maggy did not trust lightly. But, in some ways, she seemed to trust him already. That revelation felt like a rare gift, something he didn’t want to take for granted.
“Would you like to see the precise spot I stood when I chose where I wanted my ranch?”
Maggy lifted her head and blinked as if she’d been deep in thought. “Is it close by?”
“Just to the right of that rise,” Edward said, pointing in the direction of the mountains.
Her lips tilted slightly upward. “Lead the way.”
He gathered Napoleon’s reins and mounted. Maggy did the same with Persimmon. After crossing the stream, he rode past the rise to a waist-high stack of rocks. He hadn’t visited this spot in more than a year, and feelings of nostalgia swept through him as he turned Napoleon beside the rock mound to face north.
“I’d heard there was good grazing near the Big Horn Mountains, so after Mrs. Harvey and I arrived in Sheridan, I rented a horse and rode this way.” He rested his arm on the saddle horn. “When I reached this spot, I stopped to gauge how far I’d ridden and that’s when I saw that.” He gestured at the fertile hills and distant stand of trees along the river where he’d built his ranch.
Maggy gazed in the direction of the Running W. “It’s beautiful, Edward.”
“I placed this marker here to commemorate the moment.”
She stared down at the rocks. “You stacked these rocks?”
“I did,” he responded firmly, though he was beginning to feel a bit foolish. He’d never shown another person this spot or the rock mound he’d created. “My ancestors were known to have erected stone monuments throughout Britain.” He shrugged. “I suppose I thought it might be fitting to do the same in my new homeland.”
She tipped her head, her gaze intent on his face. Could she read his past as well as he thought he was beginning to read hers?
“I think it’s fitting,” she said before turning away. “What about that fence? Did you put that up as a monument, too?”
It took a moment for her question to register in his mind. “Fence? What fence?”
“There between those trees.” Maggy pointed a short ways off. “I spotted some fence posts as we rode past.”
His confusion gave way to instant suspicion and concern. “I don’t recall seeing a fence around here, at least not when I last visited this spot. There are no other ranches this far south.”
“I’d like to check it out.”
He didn’t argue. The apprehension roiling in his gut was prodding him to investigate, too. Guiding his horse after Maggy’s, he followed her toward the stand of trees. There, to his astonishment, stood a fenced circle.
Frowning, Edward dismounted and walked toward the nearest post. Maggy did the same. “It’s a corral, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, though it’s been hastily constructed.” He motioned to the crude branches and logs that made up the fence. “What’s it doing here?”
He traversed the fence line, searching for a clue as to the structure’s purpose or ownership. Maggy circled the corral in the opposite direction. On the far side, Edward stopped to think. Why would someone build a corral way out here? And why would they need to gather horses so far from any ranch? He rested his forearms on the top rung of the fence.
The closest ranch was his, and yet, he didn’t use this spot—hadn’t even paid attention to its existence before today.
“Edward, come look at this.”
He turned to find Maggy peering at something on the ground a few feet away. When he walked over, he saw it was the blackened remains of a fire. A large rock sat beside the cold ashes, its surface burnt, as well. Almost as if...
“They’re changing the horse brands,” he and Maggy exclaimed at the same time.
A clear picture of what had likely transpired formed inside his head, and with it came a wave of anger. “Whoever built this must have been planning to release some of my horses the other day. Somehow they hid them while my men were on the hunt, then the culprits rounded up the horses and brought them here to change the brands.” He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh.
“If that’s true,” Maggy said, her voice calm but confident, her blue gaze steely, “and we can prove it, we can have them arrested for horse rustling.”
Edward stalked back to his horse, his hat choked between his fingers. He was barely aware of Maggy behind him. “That’s the trouble,” he half growled as he smacked his hat back on his head and climbed into the saddle. “We can’t prove anything right now.”
Glancing at Maggy, who surprisingly kept silent as she mounted her horse, he realized he’d allowed himself to be caught up in her vivacity and company. They were business partners of sorts and temporarily engaged to one another, but he had to keep his focus on the weightier matters at hand. His ranch was on the line, and it was time to redouble his efforts to save it.
* * *
Maggy saw little of Edward the next three days, except for at meals. Even then, their conversation didn’t flow with the same easy banter as it had during their buggy ride or when they’d g
one riding the other day. Any talk revolved around the ranch and if either of them had observed anything new. Edward seemed intent on throwing himself into his ranch duties, so Maggy had turned her focus outside the Running W. She’d driven into town to collect the royal blue dress and one other gown Ms. Glasen had also completed and made a point to drive around the streets of Sheridan—as if she really were Edward’s fiancée, driven by nothing more than simple curiosity to explore the town she would eventually call home.
She also rode back to the hidden corral to search for more clues, but she didn’t find any. Mostly she felt bored and useless, feelings she despised. She wanted to make more headway on Edward’s case, and for that reason, she was more than ready for her debut dinner at the Sheridan Inn.
By Saturday evening, though, her stomach felt so twisted in knots that she didn’t think she would be able to eat a thing. She asked Mrs. Harvey to help with her hair, and the housekeeper kindly agreed. Maggy wore the royal blue gown. From her trunk, she even unearthed a strand of faux pearls.
“You look lovely, Maggy,” Mrs. Harvey declared as she stepped back from finishing Maggy’s hair.
Maggy couldn’t see much of herself in the handheld mirror the housekeeper had brought to the guest house, but she was still grateful for the compliment. “Thank you, Mrs. Harvey.”
“I mean it, love. See for yourself, in the bureau mirror there.” With a smile, the older woman nudged her arm.
Pushing out a sigh, Maggy stood, fisted her train in one hand and moved to the mirror. The woman looking back at her tonight couldn’t possibly be the same one who’d arrived here five days ago. This woman’s hair and eyes glowed against the backdrop of the bright blue dress. Her cheekbones appeared prominent, elegant even, with the way her hair had been swept up off her face and neck.
Mrs. Harvey came to stand behind her. “Everyone’ll be in awe of Mr. Kent’s fiancée.”
The reminder of what part she must play well tonight tightened her middle with fresh tension. You can do this, Maggy. This is only temporary. You are engaged to Edward, and now you look like someone he would choose.
A knock at the door set her heart racing. It was likely just Edward. Why was she blushing then, like a girl about to see her beau?
Lifting her chin in defiance of her nerves, she strode to the door and threw it open. “I just need to collect my gloves, then I’ll be ready.”
“Very good.” His gray eyes widened as he gazed at her. Was it her brusque manner or something displeasing about her attire?
She snatched her gloves off the bed and put them on, thanked Mrs. Harvey once more, then marched out the door. “I know it’s a bright color for an evening gown,” she said as she passed Edward, “but you didn’t like my pale ones. And for this situation, I do want to make an impression.”
“Maggy.” He took her by the elbow and tugged her gently backward. “You will definitely make an impression.”
Was he teasing her? She couldn’t tell, especially with her arm cupped warmly in his grip. “I can change into something more subdued—”
“And by impression...” He leaned close, his mouth quirked up at the corners. “I meant a rather stunning one.”
She blinked, suddenly realizing how handsome he looked in his white bow tie and shirt and dark suit. “So the dress is fine?”
“The dress is fine.” He chuckled as he released her. “Shall we?” He motioned to where the buggy and horse stood waiting.
Forcing a pert smile, she nodded. “Time for the show.”
Edward helped her into the buggy, and she was grateful for the assistance. She wouldn’t be able to maneuver on her own in the long evening dress. Thankfully this “disguise” wasn’t what she normally had to wear for all of her missions. Though, she did have to admit, the fabric and cut of the gown were more comfortable than her older ones.
The drive to Sheridan seemed to take twice as long as normal, especially with neither of them saying much. All of sudden, though, the inn loomed before them. Maggy swallowed hard, grateful the lace at her throat wasn’t constricting. In spite of her long sleeves, she still shivered as she eyed the three-story white building with its dormer windows and long porch.
Her heartbeat pulsed faster as Edward helped her from the buggy. There were a number of carriages parked out front and a few guests seated in the porch chairs, but Maggy saw no other nicely dressed couples.
“Are we late?” she whispered when Edward offered her his arm.
He glanced around. “A few minutes perhaps.”
“Oh.” Her legs felt stiff as if she’d been riding in the buggy for a hundred miles instead of seven. “All right then.”
Edward didn’t move. Instead Maggy watched him shut his eyes and realized he was praying. It wasn’t the first time she’d observed him doing so. He’d prayed before each meal she’d shared with him. And yet, unlike the other times, she didn’t feel uncomfortable now—she felt marginally better.
A few seconds later, he squared his shoulders and guided her through the front door of the inn. Maggy found the inside of the building as tasteful and clean as the outside. Edward steered her past the desk, nodding a greeting to the clerk stationed there. Since he was busy speaking with some hotel guests, he simply nodded back, but his eyes went wide with shock when he saw Maggy. An unfamiliar desire to giggle rose inside her at the man’s bug-eyed look.
Outside the dining room door, Edward paused again. “Ready?” he asked.
She pulled in a calming breath and lifted her chin. “Ready.”
“Then here we go, Miss Worthwright,” he murmured with a smile.
Releasing her arm, he placed his hand on the small of her back and directed her into the room. The murmur of conversation at the different tables ceased. Even one of the waiters across the room stopped mid-stride, a tray in hand. Every pair of eyes turned toward her and Edward.
Maggy’s hands felt clammy inside her gloves and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears it sounded like cannon shot in the near-silent room. She might have stood there staring back at all those people forever if Edward hadn’t nudged her forward with a whispered, “We can do this.”
The confident words and his firm but comforting touch on her back propelled Maggy into action. She smiled brightly and swept toward the first table. “Good evening,” she said with regal poise as she nodded to those seated there. “I’m so sorry we’re late.”
The silence in the room snapped as conversation and the clatter of cutlery filled the space once more. The waiter rushed forward with his food.
“Kent.” A man with a long mustache rose from his chair at the first table. “Who’s your enchanting guest?”
Edward reached out to shake the man’s hand, then turned to her. “Miss Worthwright, may I introduce Sid Winchester?”
Maggy wanted to applaud him. Her name rolled effortlessly, almost tenderly, off his tongue. Perhaps it had been wise for Edward to officially ask her to be his fiancée after all.
Though she was sizing Winchester up, she feigned a pleasant demeanor as she held out her hand, fingers down. The rancher looked unsure of what to do, so he simply shook her fingers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winchester.”
“You, too.” He released her to sit back down and motioned to the woman on his left. “This is my wife, Lola.”
The introductions continued, then Edward led her to the next table and the next. At each, she smiled, shook hands, and committed to memory which wives went with which ranchers. Her mouth was beginning to feel sore from all the smiling by the time they reached the head table where two empty chairs stood.
“We’ll be eating with the Druitts,” Edward murmured in her ear as they moved forward.
“Excellent. I’m starving.”
His lips twitched with a concealed smile. “Miss Worthwright,” he said, when they reached the table. “This is Nevil
Druitt.”
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Druitt.”
“Miss Worthwright,” the older rancher boomed, rising. “So good to meet you at last.” Maggy shook his hand. “May I introduce my wife, Dolphina?”
Eagerly Maggy studied the older woman. She wasn’t a great beauty with her sagging chin and graying hair, but unlike the other women Maggy had met tonight, Dophina Druitt had a commanding air about her. Her dress was in the latest style and her green-eyed gaze appeared sharp and observant.
“How do you do?” Maggy said. “So pleased to meet more friends of my dear Edward’s.” She linked her arm with his and leaned into him.
Mrs. Druitt gave an imperial nod. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Worthwright. Do have a seat.”
Edward helped her into her chair, then took the one beside her. “Quite a press this evening, isn’t there?” Almost right away, the waiter brought their food and Maggy began to eat.
“Yes, quite a crowd,” Mrs. Druitt said as she glanced at Maggy. “I think everyone was eager to meet your intended, Mr. Kent. I must say, I almost didn’t believe Nevil here when he told me the news. None of us had the faintest idea you were courting.”
Lifting his fork, Edward shot the woman a tight smile. “I wished to keep it private until things were official.”
“And you certainly did.” Mrs. Druitt turned to Maggy next. “However did you come to know Mr. Kent? Why, I daresay he’s never left the area since he arrived here, save to buy those horses of his.”
Maggy pressed her napkin to her lips, her heart drumming anew. Mrs. Druitt wouldn’t be easily put off by the simple explanation they’d given others. “Another gentleman I highly respect became acquainted with Edward and recommended the two of us meet.” She glanced at Edward and smiled fully. “I’ll certainly be forever grateful that he did. I came to see right away that Edward is kind, hardworking and ever so patient.”
Having taken a drink, Edward began to cough. Maggy suspected he was trying not to laugh.
“Are you all right, darling?” she asked, leaning toward him.