Marnie (Pendleton Petticoats Book 4)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Hall tree,” Ilsa answered, glancing over the table. She set butter in the center and smiled as Tony hurried down the stairs and seated her. Lars returned to the kitchen, buttoning his shirt, and seated Marnie.

  The four of them enjoyed a lively conversation while they ate. Both men complimented Marnie on her cooking, especially when they ate the pudding she prepared.

  Tony volunteered to wash the dishes so Ilsa and Marnie could get back to the dress project right after Ilsa nursed a hungry Laila.

  Lars reclaimed the rest of his clothes and put his hat on his head. “Walk me outside,” he said, taking Marnie’s hand in his.

  She nodded her head and accompanied him out the door and down the front walk.

  He stopped before they reached the street and squeezed her hand. “Call the restaurant when you’re finished and I’ll walk you back to your room.”

  Marnie looked out at the street where a few wagons rolled by in the quiet neighborhood. “That’s not necessary. I’m sure you’re tired after a busy day.”

  “I’ve got some paperwork I need to complete so I’ll be up anyway. Just call when you’re ready.” Lars wanted so badly to kiss her but managed to take a few steps away from her. Something about Marnie seemed different this evening, but he couldn’t say what exactly. It wasn’t that he discovered she could cook. It wasn’t that she’d risk the wrath of Miss Clementine to help his sister. There was something else, something just beyond his comprehension, but he planned to figure it out soon.

  “Goodbye, Lars.”

  “Remember to call me.”

  Marnie didn’t say anything as she hurried back down the walk and up the front steps to the house.

  He still hadn’t heard from her three hours later and realized the telephone office was closed for the night. Wanting to check on her for himself, he decided to go to Ilsa’s before he went to Miss Clementine’s, in case she was still at his sister’s house. Not even bothering to put on his hat or jacket, he fastened his gun belt around his hips and rushed out the back door of the restaurant.

  It was dark out, the sun having set an hour earlier, so he walked along the sidewalk, lit by gas lamps instead of cutting through the two alleys he would normally take in a shortcut to Ilsa’s house.

  Lights blazed in the front room as he strolled up the walk, although the rest of the house was dark. Quietly letting himself in, he looked in the parlor and found Ilsa asleep in her rocking chair with Laila dozing in her cradle while Marnie bent over the dress, stitching so fast her fingers seemed to fly.

  A floorboard squeaked as Lars stepped into the room. Marnie glanced up at him and smiled. She placed her index finger to her lips and motioned for him to remain silent. Cautiously setting aside the dress, she rose and walked across the room.

  She took his hand, leading him down the hall to the kitchen then flicked a switch. Ilsa and Tony recently had electric lights installed in the house and Lars thought the convenience was quite handy. Ilsa had also installed electric lights in her shop and Caterina mentioned having them installed in the restaurant as soon as the street project wrapped up.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered, pouring two cups of coffee and motioning for him to take a seat at the table.

  “You didn’t call so I came to check on you,” he said, feeling like a fussy mother hen. The women in his life, from tiny Laila to the beautiful one staring at him over the rim of her coffee cup, had him tied in so many knots he could hardly think straight.

  “I’m fine. I should finish the dress in another hour or so. It will need a final pressing, but we can do that in the morning.” Marnie rolled her neck and then her shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness created from working so intently on the dress the last several hours. “I thought I’d sleep on the sofa when I get done so I can help Ilsa pack the gown for shipment in the morning. I should have called to let you know I planned to stay here, but didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “You’ve got me plenty disturbed,” Lars mumbled as he rose from the table and stepped behind Marnie’s chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began kneading away the knots.

  “Mmm. You’re very good at that.” Her voice was even more mellow than usual and the sound of it made blood rush through Lars and heat pool in his belly. He had no business touching her like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not when she relaxed beneath his hands and he could feel the knots loosen. She’d labored for hours for his sister, cooked them all dinner, and even now worked while his family slept.

  Not caring one iota about propriety, Lars sat down at the table and pulled Marnie onto his lap.

  She stared up at him with a storm of emotions brewing in her eyes. In her current state, she didn’t think it was a good idea to be alone with him like this, held in his powerful arms with his tempting mouth mere inches from her own.

  “What are you doing?” Marnie couldn’t help it when her eyes locked with his and she fell into his hot blue gaze.

  “Holding you.”

  “I know that.” Marnie’s smile lifted the corners of her mouth and made her eyes sparkle. “Why?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “I suppose that should be reason enough.” Marnie released a sigh.

  Lars couldn’t tell if it was from contentment or frustration. Unwilling to state the reasons he wanted — needed — to hold her, he placed a kiss on her neck then worked his way around to her lips.

  As he captured her delectable mouth with his, he forgot everything but Marnie, how right it felt to hold her and kiss her, to love her.

  “Lars,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Hmm.” He nipped at her lower lip.

  “I need to tell you something. Something important.”

  “What’s that?” He shifted his attention to worrying her earlobe, careful not to disturb the eardrop hanging there.

  “I’m quitting.”

  He brought his head up and stared at Marnie. “Quitting?”

  “Miss Clementine’s, all of it. Ilsa talked me into working for her. I’ll move into the apartment above her shop.” Marnie waited for her news to sink in. It only took a second before Lars let out a whoop. She clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shh! You’ll wake up everyone and Ilsa needs the rest.”

  “Sorry,” Lars whispered, hugging her tightly to him. “You couldn’t have given me any better news. What made you change your mind?”

  You.

  “Today, seeing how much Ilsa needs help was eye-opening. After attending church with you Easter Sunday, I understand what you said about not everyone in town holding my past against me. Thank you for that, Lars.”

  “Most people are much more forgiving than you realize. Give people a chance and they often surprise you.”

  The only thing Marnie could have said that would have made him any happier would have been a declaration of her feelings for him. That could never be, so he’d settle for her giving up her work at the brothel. “Do you need help telling Clementine and packing your things?”

  “I’ll tell her, but if you wouldn’t mind helping move my things, I’d certainly appreciate it.” Marnie had already packed all her belongings in her mind half a dozen times as she stitched away the hours that evening. She figured she’d need half a dozen boxes and one trunk. Ilsa said she could borrow anything of hers she needed to make the move.

  “Just tell me what time to show up and my arms and back are all yours.”

  Marnie somehow refrained from telling him she wanted not only his arms and back, but all of him to be hers for the rest of her life. It was on her tongue to blurt out how much he’d come to mean to her, how much she admired him, respected him, wanted him, loved him.

  Holding back the words she so desperately wanted to say, she instead nodded her head and rose to her feet. “You go home and rest while I finish this dress.”

  “I could keep you company while you work.” Lars forked his fingers through his hair, wishing Marnie would say yes.

  Watch
ing the trail his fingers left through his rich, caramel-colored hair, Marnie shook her head. “If you stay, it’s likely I won’t get anything else done. Go home, sugar. Get some sleep.” She turned and walked down the hall, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Read this.”

  Kade tossed a telegram on the table where Lars sat eating breakfast.

  While Lars read the message, Kade stepped across the restaurant’s kitchen to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. Caterina caught a bowl of oatmeal before Ben could dump it on the floor while Brett obliterated his toast into a pile of crumbs.

  “If this is true, they should be heading our direction soon.”

  “That’s what I think.” Kade lifted a muffin from the basket on the table and sliced it in half, spreading butter on both sides before taking a bite.

  The telegram let them know the Bowman Gang had been on a spree south of Pendleton. They’d held up two Idaho banks, in Weiser and Payette, shot a man in Payette on their way out of town, then crossed into Oregon to hold up a stage just outside of Ontario. The missive stated the outlaws wore bandanas over their faces, dressed in nondescript clothing, and rode similar sorrel horses, making it impossible to identify them.

  “Their pattern is to hit three or four places at once then lay low for a few months. This is what we’ve been waiting for. If Umatilla County is their base of operations like we suspect, they’ll all wander back to their homes here, although I doubt any of them will ride in together,” Lars said, taking a drink of hot coffee.

  “At least we’ve got one less gang member to worry about if the report is true. Sounds like one of the outlaws died in the shootout that took place when they robbed the stage and a second one was reportedly shot.” Kade grabbed Brett before he took a dive headfirst out of his highchair. “Careful, son,” Kade cautioned the boy, lifting him to sit on his lap.

  “Go wif you, Daddy?” Brett plucked at the star pinned to Kade’s vest.

  “Not today, Brett. Daddy is busy with work,” Caterina said, lifting Ben out of the highchair after she wiped his hands and face.

  He climbed up on Kade’s other leg and the two boys stared at their father. “Pease, Daddy. Go wif you?”

  “Sorry, boys, but you’ll have to stay here and help Mama today.” Kade smiled at his sons, not wanting them to dissolve into tears. Brett got a little teary-eyed but Ben nodded his head solemnly. “If you behave, though, I’ll take you for a ride on Pete later, okay?”

  “Ride Pete? Ride horsey?” Ben and Brett both perked up at the thought of riding Kade’s horse. “We be good.”

  Caterina laughed as she cleaned up the boys’ breakfast mess. “Promises, promises. I’d be happy if they could make it through one day without terrorizing poor Rufus, spilling something sticky all over the floor, or leaving dirty handprints on my clean table linens.”

  Lars chuckled and Kade shook his head at the boys. “You two mind your mama and be on your best behavior. You hear me?”

  Two little heads nodded up and down.

  “We better get going. We’ve got just a few days to finalize our strategy and prepare for their return.” Kade finished his coffee and grabbed another muffin while Lars carried his plate and cup to the sink.

  “Thank you for another fine breakfast, Caterina. It’s always appreciated.” Lars tipped his head respectfully then picked up the Stetson he’d left by the door, settling it on his head.

  Indulgently, she smiled at him. “You know you’re always welcome at the table. You are family, after all, and even if you weren’t I’d feed you anyway just for your nice manners and handsome smile.”

  Lars grinned and stepped outside, giving Kade a private moment to say goodbye to his sons and wife before they went to the sheriff’s office where they continued to make plans for bringing in the Bowman Gang.

  In the three weeks she’d been working for Ilsa, Marnie hadn’t once missed being at Miss Clementine’s. She did miss Gertie and Lewis, but she didn’t regret her choice to leave the brothel.

  For the most part, she’d been accepted in town as a talented seamstress who recently moved into the apartment above Ilsa’s store and went to work for the woman. Everyone knew Ilsa had her hands full with the shop and baby Laila.

  Very few people tied Marnie to her former work. Those at church who might have made the connection were men who wouldn’t want it known they frequented Miss Clementine’s business. If they did recognize her, they refrained from making any remarks. There were still a few gossiping women in town who knew who she was and shunned her at every opportunity, but Marnie ignored them and went on with her head held high. She’d spoken several times with Pastor Whitting and attended church regularly.

  Gifted with a second chance at life, she planned to make the most of it. The only thing that could make life sweeter would be if Lars would stop by the shop for a visit. She hadn’t seen him for days but she knew he and Kade were both deeply involved in bringing down the Bowman Gang.

  As she sent up a quick prayer for their safety, Marnie heard the bell above Ilsa’s shop door jangle. She set the scissors she’d been using to cut out a dress on the worktable and pasted on a pleasant smile before entering the front room.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Hill,” Marnie greeted the town’s most eligible yet unwed banker, Grant Hill, as he escorted an older woman into the shop. She genuinely liked the man. Handsome, kind and friendly, he would make some woman a wonderful husband, just not her. “May I help you with something?”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Jones.” Grant smiled at her then glanced down at the woman who gazed around Ilsa’s shop with her nose lifted high in the air.

  Marnie continued smiling at Grant, stifling her uncharitable thoughts about the snobbish woman. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Splendid, actually.” Grant took a step closer to Marnie. “The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the air is warm, the wind isn’t blowing, and I get to end the afternoon by conversing with one of the loveliest women in town.”

  “Grant, dear, tone down the flattery,” the woman said, thoroughly observing Marnie. “I am Imogene Hill, Grant’s mother. I just arrived in town the day before yesterday.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Marnie said, tilting her head politely. “That is an exceptional gown you’re wearing.”

  Mrs. Hill appeared pleased by Marnie’s comment and ran her hand down the front of her mauve dress, highlighted with too much lace, too many flowers, and too many flounces for a woman of Mrs. Hill’s short stature and wide girth.

  Marnie hadn’t lied, though. The gown was exceptionally ugly, exceptionally overdone, and exceptionally unsightly.

  Grant must have sensed the direction of her thoughts because he gave her a wink and grinned as he stood behind his mother.

  Swallowing back a laugh, Marnie smiled at the woman as she looked at some of the gowns Ilsa had on display, along with a selection of hats. “Is there something in particular that garners your interest?”

  “Mother wants a new hat.” Grant pointed to the atrocity perched on his mother’s head and violently shook his own while the woman’s back was turned.

  “We have several hats available for purchase, or you can place a special order, although it will take a few weeks for us to complete it,” Marnie said, walking to the hat display and choosing a white felt hat. Artfully decorated with mauve silk roses, a gray plume, and white tulle, it seemed perfect for Mrs. Hill. After lifting the hat from a stand, she held it out to the woman. “I believe you’ll find this to be a perfect complement to your gown.”

  Mrs. Hill gave her another long glance, considering if Marnie possessed the necessary skills and talents to make recommendations she would accept. “You do appear to be one of the most stylishly attired girls I’ve seen since I set foot in this uncivilized town where my son insists on residing.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Marnie wondered what the persnickety Mrs. Hill would say if she knew Marnie�
��s former profession.

  Grant was fully aware of what Marnie had been. Although he wasn’t the type to be found in a house of ill repute availing himself of the services offered, he did handle Miss Clementine’s financial investments. Marnie had gone to him when she’d saved enough money to open an account because she knew he was trustworthy and would treat her respectably. He’d been gracious when she stopped by the bank the previous week to make a deposit from the money she made selling her working girl wardrobe to some of the harlots in town.

  “Would you care to try this hat?” Marnie motioned toward a mirror set up by the hat display.

  “I believe I would.” Mrs. Hill marched over to the mirror and unpinned the hat she wore, accepting the hat Marnie held out to her. She set it on her head, yanked it down in the back and glared in the mirror.

  “May I, ma’am?” Marnie asked, stepping close to the woman.

  Mrs. Hill nodded her head and watched in the mirror as Marnie repositioned the hat in a much more flattering placement then gently secured it with a hatpin.

  “Isn’t that lovely?” Marnie asked, hoping Grant would agree.

  “You must wear that home, Mother. It’s quite the most becoming hat I’ve ever seen on you.” Grant spoke the truth since all of his mother’s hats were hideous.

  “Isn’t that sweet of you, dear.” Mrs. Hill beamed at Grant then turned to Marnie. “I’ll take it. Do you have any other suggestions? I have a new lavender gown and hoped to find a hat to go with it.”

  “I have just the thing. If you don’t mind waiting a moment, it’s in the back.” Marnie hurried to the workroom to pick up a hat she’d completed the previous evening. Cream satin braid she hand-stitched over a mushroom wire base featured lavender and cream plumes, lavender polka-dot netting, and lavender silk roses.

  Returning to the front of the store, Marnie hid a smile as Mrs. Hill continued to preen in front of the mirror while Grant lounged against a display case full of gloves and beaded bags.