by Gina Welborn
“Mother? Father?”
“In here,” came Geddes’s voice from the dining room.
Luanne glanced at the grandfather clock in the hallway. Had they started the meal without her? She hurried into the dining room, surprised to see it empty save for her brother. Geddes sat with his chair angled and holding the newspaper up before him like he always did before supper because he was too tired in the mornings to read it. Four place settings had been set, instead of the usual six. Strange.
“Smells like Mother and Yancey are frying ham,” she said, taking her usual seat across from him. Her stomach growled as she perused the bowls of green beans, pickled beets, corn muffins, and roasted potatoes. “Mmm-mmm-mmm. This all looks good. Where is Father?”
“You sound awfully chipper for someone who slammed the door a few moments ago.” Geddes looked over his paper and studied her for a long moment. “Actually it’s only Yancey who’s cooking. Mother and Father left an hour ago to have dinner with the Pawlikowskis.” He must have noticed her frown of confusion, because he added, “Did you forget they were going?”
Luanne grimaced. That was today, wasn’t it? She grabbed the pitcher of lemonade and filled her goblet. “I’ve spent three days listening to lectures on teaching. I’ve had other things on my mind.”
“I bet you have.” With a sly grin, he returned his attention to the paper.
“Geddes, what is that supposed to mean?”
“Personal Culture for Teachers outside the Classroom,” he murmured. “Fascinating lecture, wasn’t it?”
Luanne winced.
The kitchen door opened.
Yancey, with a food-stained apron over her calico dress, strolled in carrying a platter of ham that didn’t look or smell burnt. Her gaze shifted around the room. She sat the platter on the table. “Where’s Roy?”
Luanne looked from sibling to sibling, both of whom gave her pointed stares that conveyed a silent yet obvious well, tell us where he is. “Why are you asking me?” she said, feeling a bit of annoyance at their implication—no, assumption—that she would know exactly where Roy was. She wasn’t his wife.
Yancey and Geddes exchanged glances, then looked back at her with that same well, tell us where he is look.
Luanne growled under her breath. Only three more days of convincing Roy—and everyone else—that she viewed him as a brother when, in reality, she was never more aware of his presence in a room, never more distracted by his smile, never more enchanted by how he interacted with her students. She could only imagine he would be as attentive with his own children. At the thought of him with a child of his own—
She didn’t need to be daydreaming about Roy being a father. Or a husband.
Certainly not her husband.
Despite how warm her cheeks felt, she held her head high. “He’s probably outside talking with Mrs. Hollenbeck.”
That seemed to mollify Geddes, who turned back to his paper, and Yancey, who turned her attention to the food on the table.
The front door opened, then closed.
Luanne grabbed her napkin and laid it across the lap of her blue calico dress. “Speaking of the devil.”
“About time,” Geddes put in.
“Ack! I forgot the butter.” Yancey dashed back to the kitchen.
Roy entered the dining room. His eyes immediately found hers, and he gave her a mischievous half smile, causing her heart to squeeze in panic.
Luanne looked away, her cheeks surely turning pink. Three days. That was how long she had to endure, and then he would leave. She could manage. She could.
Instead of taking his usual seat next to Geddes, Roy strolled to Luanne’s side of the table, grabbed the back of Yancey’s chair, scooted it closer to Luanne’s, and then sat in clear disregard for propriety. “Anything interesting in the news?” he said with such casualness, even though the side of his foot was touching hers.
Good heavens, what was he doing? The question choked in Luanne’s throat. Should she move her foot? Would it seem rude?
Geddes folded the paper closed, looked across the table, and clearly unfazed by what he saw, spoke matter-of-factly. “Looks like the missing brothel girl drowned in Spokane Creek. They found part of her scarf caught on a rock. Deputy McCall stopped by earlier, looking for you. He’s determined to find the girl’s body. He thinks an aerial view of the creek where her scarf was found may help.” He handed the paper to Roy, who took it. “If you have time in the morning to take Mac up, he’d appreciate it.”
“I certainly can.”
As Roy read the article, Luanne drew her legs under the chair, crossing them at the ankles. She eyed the space between his chair and hers. How was she to put distance between them without drawing attention to the lack of distance between them?
“Doesn’t make sense why she tried to cross,” Roy said in amazement. “Even I know that current is too strong for a person to wade through.”
“Could be she was trying to escape something,” Geddes suggested.
“Or someone.” When no one responded, Luanne looked up to see both men watching her. “What brothel owner would let part of his income run away?”
Yancey bolted into the room, then stopped abruptly, her gaze shifting back and forth between Roy and Luanne. She grinned broadly. “About time.” She placed the butter dish next to Geddes, then took Roy’s usual seat. “Roy, will you ask the blessing?”
Luanne bowed her head and clasped her hands together in her lap.
Roy’s hand rested on hers.
Her breath caught, eyes flew open. She sat there frozen, her heart pounding frantically in her chest as he prayed. First his chair. Now this? Why?
“Amen,” came from Roy, Geddes, and Yancey in unison.
Soon the food circled the table.
While Roy was no longer touching any part of her, Luanne could still feel his warmth. She could still sense the touch of his skin on hers, could still feel the closeness of his hip to hers. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him eat. He would never know how his touch had affected her. Or what she felt when he looked at her. Or how often he invaded her thoughts.
Luanne breathed deep and returned her focus to the meal. Three more days. She could endure.
“Hey, Lu,” Geddes put in, “Father and I were talking earlier today about the Ladies Aid Society starting an apprenticeship program. We figure there are enough business owners in Helena without children of their own who will want to pass along their skills to a younger generation of workers.”
Yancey cut her slice of ham. “The world will always need blacksmiths, seamstresses, and apothecaries.”
Luanne absently nudged the food around on her plate. This time the ache in her heart had nothing to do with Roy.
Angeline Rhoads
Ida Quimby
Johnny O’Brian
Neither of the girls would have turned to prostitution if she’d have done a better job teaching them about the myriad opportunities available for employment. Nor would Johnny have joined the gang if he’d had a decent job. Helping her students find jobs—
She looked to Geddes. “That’s a wonderful idea! I will talk to the Ladies Aid Society. In fact, next summer, I will offer tutoring for any girl or boy who wishes to take the teaching certificate exam.”
Roy laid down his knife and forked a wedge of ham. Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? Annoyance? Certainly it wasn’t delight. “Don’t you think you’re already on enough committees? Perhaps it would be wise to limit yourself to one or two causes, instead of five or six.” His tone was polite even if his words weren’t.
Her siblings’ mouths gaped open.
First he sat next to her as if they were courting. Now he was imposing his opinion on what she should or shouldn’t do. He wasn’t her husband. He had no say over her life. If she said nothing in response—well, he would presume she was accepting of his behavior.
He had no claim on her. None.
She turned to face Roy. “Might we have a word in the pa
rlor?” she said, and paid no mind to how sharp she sounded.
Without giving him a chance to respond, she slapped her napkin, tossed it onto the table, and strolled out of the dining room, across the front foyer, and into the parlor. She stopped abruptly and grimaced. Where was she supposed to sit? Despite the condition of the parlor, in here they’d be far enough away to have a private conversation, yet not alone in a closed-off room.
Roy stepped inside the parlor, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. He shoved it in his back pocket, then stopped in front of her. “Have I offended you in some way, Miss Palmer?”
“Yes, you have.” Her voice was too loud, too passionate to dampen. “Your behavior is unsettling.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” He leaned in close and smiled all smug and lively. “I was going for flirtatious, but unsettling will do.”
Luanne blinked. She opened her mouth but then, unable to think of a suitable retort, closed it. What had gotten into him? He was watching her intently. Oh, she’d caught him studying her before. Numerous times, actually. This was different. He seemed . . . unhesitant. Confident. No, it was something more intense, more predatory. He wanted her.
Her pulse leaped.
Luanne took a step back and bumped into a chair. “Umm, I should—we should—”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Roy stepped forward, his head dipping toward hers, his gaze dropping to her lips.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. “You shouldn’t—”
“Shouldn’t?” He drew back, enough for her to see desire in his eyes. “I have to. I love you, Luanne. I don’t know what else to do to get your attention.”
“Oh, Roy.” Luanne touched his cheek. “You’ve had my attention for weeks.”
He captured her hand and drew her fingers toward his lips. At the last instant, he turned her hand and pressed a warm kiss into her wrist, sending a shiver of pleasure and an unmistakable desire for more down her spine. “I love you, Luanne Palmer.”
His declaration was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. Beyond all she’d ever dreamed. And she’d dreamed. Wished. Hoped. This, though, this was beyond it all. Roy Bennett loved her. He loved her, wanted a home, a family, a future with her, here in Helena. With her.
Chapter Nine
Roy inhaled the sweet scent of lilacs. Precious, wonderful Luanne! Her response to his kiss filled him with a plethora of emotions: joy, protectiveness, wonder, victory, reverence, and desire. And those were just the ones he could name.
Speaking of names, Mrs. Roy Bennett had a nice ring to it. Which meant he’d better buy a ring to put on that left hand of hers so Professor Tate and every other man in the world knew she’d been claimed.
Roy twirled an errant blond curl around his finger. “What are you doing after school tomorrow?”
“School!” Luanne pushed away, breaking his hold around her waist. She put a hand to her chest. “My contract.”
“Hey, what’s going on in there?” Geddes’s voice shook with . . . what? Alarm? Laughter?
Luanne’s face faded to the same white as the dust covers over the furniture pushed into the center of the room. Roy took her hand and tugged her to the side farthest away from the dining room. He removed a sheet from the settee and pulled it a few feet away from the pile so they could sit. He took Luanne’s hand again and drew her down next to him. Cognizant of listening ears, he lowered his voice so only Luanne could hear. “These past few weeks have been . . . incredible. I came to Helena to recover; I never expected to fall in love.” He smiled with pure joy. “I even fell in love with those students of yours.”
Her eyes grew watery and her chin trembled. With a sudden indrawn breath, she turned away. “I never expected . . . this . . . with you. I signed a contract for the entire year. I—” She chuckled, but it sounded more panicked than humorous. “How can I possibly . . . ?”
“Leave in the middle of your contract?” Roy supplied the rest of her sentence. “Easy. You marry me and get on the train Monday afternoon—after I formally talk to your father, of course.”
“Leave?”
“Wives usually join their husbands on the honeymoon.” He grinned, attempting to make light of the intense longing the words marry and honeymoon stirred in his soul.
By the look on Luanne’s face, those two words stirred very different emotions in her. “But this is my home. How can you ask me to leave?”
“Because, in case you missed it, I’m asking you to marry me.” He squeezed her hands. “I know the timing is a little sudden, and maybe you want a big shindig for a wedding, but I’m hoping that a honeymoon that takes us around the world will make up for—”
She withdrew her hands, putting a stop to the rest of his sentence. “I’m not going anywhere. I made a promise to work through the end of next August. We’ll have to put off any formal courtship until then.”
Although it wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped to engender with a marriage proposal, at least she hadn’t said no. “But that’s eleven months from now.” Roy scratched his forehead. “I’m contracted to write a piece about the Canadian Pacific Railway joining up transcontinental lines in Craigellachie, British Columbia, on November first. And, with any luck, the editor of the National Review will offer me the job at his magazine this Saturday after the balloon race. I received a telegram yesterday that he’s planning to come, which is a pretty good indication he plans to hire me.”
“That’s perfect!” With a bright smile, Luanne regripped his hands. “After you finish with your job in Canada, you can settle down here and start your new job, whether with the National Review or—”
“Settle down?” Roy sat back, his fingers disengaging from hers. “Here in Helena?”
“But, of course. My family and friends are here. My charity work is here.” The smile on her face faded a degree. “My whole life is here.”
Roy stared at her, his eyes and ears raging battle. The woman he wanted to make his whole life sat beside him, but her lips spoke words proving she didn’t understand him at all. “The job with the National Review requires me to travel all over the world. I thought you wanted to come with me. I mean . . .” He trailed off at her pinched expression. “Don’t you want to travel and see the world?”
She clenched her hands together, the knuckles white. “I thought you were ready to settle down. You said as much the other night at dinner.”
“What?” Roy wracked his brain. “I never said any such thing.”
Luanne stood and edged sideways, putting distance between them. “Yes, you did. You said you’d come to think of Marcus Merryfield as a son, and that you didn’t want to say good-bye to him.”
Roy jumped to his feet. “But it didn’t mean I was planning on giving up my entire career all of a sudden.” Especially not for a kid who’d just received a scholarship so he could leave Helena.
Luanne’s blue eyes filled with tears. “So . . . nothing is more important to you than your career?”
Roy exhaled, trying to gather himself. He was so much better when he had time to formulate words—to write them down, cross them out, and revise until what was written conveyed exactly what he meant.
“What about family? Friends? Don’t they matter?” Luanne fired off the questions before giving him enough time to answer the first one.
Why did women do that?
Roy drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Of course family and friends matter, and I have both.”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “Your parents are in Denver. The last time you saw them was at your younger sister’s wedding. . . two years ago! You’ve been in Helena for nine weeks, and the only friend you have is the one you already had the day you arrived. As much as you want to believe friends and family matter to you, your life says something far different. Your career matters most.”
“Well, you said you didn’t really have any more friends now that all your contemporaries were married and busy with babies.” The wince of pain on Luanne’s face made Roy feel
like a complete cad. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”
“Like what?” She stepped behind the couch, creating a barrier between them. “Like I’m a spinster past all hope of a home and family of my own?” Accusation laced her words.
Roy grinned, remembering how she’d shivered in response to his kiss. Thank you, Mrs. Hollenbeck, for that wonderful suggestion. “I think we just proved you’re no spinster.”
“You think this is funny?” She pressed her hands against her stomach. “I’ve violated my teaching contract in every way that matters, and you think it’s funny?”
“Of course not.” He moved behind the couch and reached for her. She jerked away. Roy dropped his hands to his sides, the fingers balling into fists. “I don’t think anything about this is funny. I was smiling at how much I enjoyed kissing your wrist. How much I’d like to kiss you properly.”
She put up a hand to ward him off. “I can’t kiss you ever again. Oh . . . heavens, what have I done? If this gets out, I’ll be ruined. I’ll lose my teaching position and be kicked out of the Ladies Aid Society and—”
“For heaven’s sake, Luanne. It was just your wrist, and my intentions toward you are honorable.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You make me sound like some lecherous villain in a melodrama.”
“A melodrama?” She held her mouth open for a long moment. “I think I’d better leave.” Yet she stood there like she was waiting for something.
What?
He remembered Mrs. Hollenbeck saying that women dropped hints instead of saying things outright, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what Luanne was trying to say with her silence.
She nodded her head slowly. “What we do speaks more loudly than what we say. I wish you all the best in your career.”