by Janice Hanna
“W–what?” She pulled her hand away and her eyes grew wide.
Gil couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, the look on your face! I wish I had a photograph. It’s priceless.”
“Well—you—but—you said—and it was so—”
“Rude.” He grinned, but just as quickly feelings of shame washed over him. “I was just teasing, Lottie. About the fellas, I mean. Truth be told, I’m a little worried that some fella is going to sweep in here and steal you away. Then what will I do?” He suddenly felt sad— genuinely sad. “Promise me you’ll never leave Estes Park.”
“I—I can’t promise that.”
“Are you saying you’re thinking of going…like your sister?” Panic wriggled its way down his spine at the very idea.
“Well, no, but if Mama says I should stay with Winifred in Denver next spring, what choice will I have?”
“All the choice in the world. Talk to your pa. He’ll understand. He’s a rational man. You can’t go anywhere, Lottie. I—I need you.” More than he dared say. “This whole melodrama thing is more than I can handle on my own. And now the pie parlor…it’s going to be a lot of work.”
“I’m sure it will pay off in the end. It’s going to be great, Gil. And your mama was beside herself. Did you see the smile on her face?”
“I did.”
“It’s funny that she accused you of eating in her kitchen last night.” Lottie giggled.
He lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper, “Speaking of which, do you think she’s on to us? Do you think she realizes what we’re really up to here?”
Lottie drew so close, he could feel her breath warm on his cheek. “I don’t know,” she whispered in response. “But we’d better be careful. And sneaky.”
“Sneaky.” He stared into Lottie’s beautiful face, his heart now thumping madly. “Yes. Sneaky.”
In that moment, Gilbert Parker was struck with the craziest notion. Where it came from, he couldn’t say. But the closer he drew to Lottie’s face, the more the idea latched on. Finally unable to control the incessant pounding in his heart, he did the only thing that made sense under the circumstances.
He kissed her.
TWELVE
A LOVE TO DIE FOR
All over town, folks are coming up with suggestions for titles for the upcoming melodrama. So far we’ve heard from several of our local men with titles like Chaos Behind the Curtain and Egg on His Face in Estes. Nice try, fellas, but our story has a strong romantic thread, so we’re hoping for something the ladies will appreciate too. Our world-famous actresses are trying their hands at the title. Just yesterday Fanny McAlister suggested A Love to Die For. We will continue to ponder this title—and many more—as the rehearsals continue. In the meantime, grab your sweetie and c’mon out to Parker Lodge, where you can enjoy a home-cooked meal from our new chef, Jeb Otis. —Your friends at Parker Lodge
GILBERT TOOK A GIANT STEP back from Lottie, stunned at what he’d just done. Stunned, and a little horrified. Whatever had possessed him?
Lottie stepped back as well, her loose blond curls framing her now-red cheeks. “G–Gil?” Her giggles filled the room. She said his name again, a smile lighting her face.
“Lottie, I…” He tried to make sense out of what had just happened. He’d never before thought about kissing her. He’d been swept away by some unseen force, no doubt. But what could he do about it now? “I’m so sorry.”
“S–sorry?” The smile on her face faded at once. “You’re sorry?”
“Well, you know what I mean. I shouldn’t have done that. I— I didn’t plan it.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She giggled and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “That’s what makes it all so lovely.”
“Still, I…” He stopped talking when his mother entered the room, singing “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” She stopped cold when she saw them. “Well, what have we here? Are you two in cahoots against me or something?”
“W–what?” Gilbert took a step back. “No. Of course not.”
She gave them a strange look. “I leave the room for a minute and you take to whispering?”
No point in arousing suspicions. Things were awkward enough already. “Oh, we were just talking.”
“Mm-hmm.” She pointed at Lottie. “That would explain why she’s blushing.”
“Am I?” Lottie felt her cheeks and smiled. “Is it warm in here?”
“Could be.” Gilbert’s mother grinned. “Someone turn on the oven while I was out? I get the feeling the temperature went up while I was away.”
“I—I don’t think so.” Gilbert shrugged and tried to play innocent. Oh, how he longed to back up the clock, to make the last two minutes of his life go away. In one fell swoop, his emotions had gotten the better of him and he’d managed to confuse both Lottie and his mother. Not that he could do anything about it now.
“Well, I guess I’d better get to work.” He led the way out of the room and Lottie followed closely behind. She reached to slip her fingers through his, and he struggled to know what to do to discourage her without hurting her feelings. Turning to face her, he released a slow breath. “I’m really sorry about what just happened, Lottie.”
“You are?” Wrinkles appeared around her beautiful green eyes.
“Yes. No. I mean, do you understand what I’m saying?” He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, of course, but he needed time to think things through.
Apparently so did Lottie. She turned on her heel and ran toward the door, muttering something about how she needed to go home to fetch her script. Why she needed her script at seven thirty in the morning was beyond him. Unless perhaps it contained some sort of clue for what was coming next. Right now…well, right now he had absolutely no idea where things were headed.
* * * * *
LOTTIE RAN ALL THE WAY HOME, her heart in her throat. Her emotions vacillated between extreme joy and genuine confusion. When she reached the road leading to her house, she paused for breath. Turning in silly circles, she chanted, “He kissed me…he kissed me!”
Her thoughts rushed backward to that moment, that glorious moment. In that instant, as his lips touched hers, everything she’d longed for, every dream she’d dreamed, every daisy petal she’d plucked, was fulfilled.
But why had he apologized? Was he sorry he’d kissed her, or just embarrassed?
Surely just embarrassed.
Oh, but how wonderful that moment had been! How unexpected. How totally blissful. In all the years she’d dreamed of their first kiss, it had never been so perfect. She giggled, realizing he’d kissed her in his mother’s kitchen. As she relived the moment once again, she picked up her pace and tried to figure out why, for the life of her, she’d made such a mad dash for home. Wouldn’t it make more sense to go back and kiss him again?
Laughter wriggled its way out once more as she imagined what that would be like and how, from this point on, she would be able to kiss him again and again.
By the time she reached the house, Lottie had forced herself to calm down. No point in arousing suspicions with Mama. No doubt she would have enough to say even without this latest news.
Sure enough, her mother met her in the front hall, her brow wrinkled. “Lottie? I thought you were working today.”
“I am, Mama, but I realized I left my script at home.”
Her mother studied herself in the front hall mirror as she donned a green satin hat. “I thought rehearsals were at night. Why rush home now?” She tied the hat sash then glanced Lottie’s way.
Lottie did her best to still her racing heart. “Oh, well, there’s a lot to do today and I was afraid I’d forget. Decided I’d better get the script before the ladies finished their breakfast.” She forced a smile.
“The ladies. Humph.”
Lottie cringed. She hadn’t counted on another nasty encounter with Mama, not on a day when she’d just been kissed. She’d rather grab her mother by the hand, tell her the good news, then dance around the foyer together in celebra
tion of the fact that, finally, Gilbert Parker had come to his senses.
Not that Mama would consider it good news. Her view of the Parkers had clearly changed now that the actresses had arrived.
“Lottie, I asked you a question.” Her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I was lost in my thoughts.”
“Yes, I can see that. But it’s an important question, one that warrants an answer. I have a right to know—what goes on over there at that lodge?”
“What goes on?” She raked her fingers through her curls. “What do you mean?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Her mother’s stern gaze in the mirror did nothing to control Lottie’s nerves.
“Mama, I don’t. If you mean how do I spend my days, I spend them working.” When I’m not kissing Gilbert Parker. “I help Mrs. Parker tend to the rooms and do the laundry. I also work with Flossie—a really nice lady from Atlantic City who’s helped me a lot with the melodrama script. In the evenings, of course, we have rehearsals. I’m directing the play.”
“So you’ve said.” Her mother gave her hat a satisfied pat. “But I sense there’s more to your story.”
“More to my story?”
Her mother turned to face her. “Lottie, it’s time to tell me the truth. I deserve to know what’s really happening over there.”
“I–I’ve told you the truth—as much as I know of it, anyway.” Well, except the part about being kissed, but this probably isn’t the time.
“You don’t find it suspicious that nearly a dozen women were brought into town and have been boarded in the same place for an extended period of time? You don’t find it equally as odd that the town’s men are suddenly making daily trips over to the lodge to visit these women?”
Lottie felt the blood drain from her face. “Mama!” She eased her way into the large, overstuffed chair. “Mama, the things that you and Mrs. Baker have implied about those wonderful ladies…it’s awful. You must know how wrong you are.”
“What’s wrong is their actions,” her mother said. “And that’s why the Women’s League plans to see it stopped. We won’t rest until those ladies head back out of town where they belong.”
“But, Mama! You have to realize how important this show is to the Parker family. They’re…” She wanted to add “in bad shape financially” but didn’t want to give her mother more to gossip about. Looked like she had plenty already.
“I wish you would just forget about that play, Lottie-Lou,” her mother said. “It pains me to see my daughter link arms with people of ill repute. No telling what sort of evil behaviors will rub off on you.”
Lottie gazed at her mother, astounded. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And they’re not women of ill repute. Why, many of those ladies are the finest, kindest people I’ve ever met.”
Her mother muttered something under her breath. “If I thought your father would back me up, I would insist you stop working with that Parker family until they’ve shut down that—that…” She released a breath. “Anyway, until those women have packed their bags and vacated the premises.”
All the joy of the morning fizzled out of Lottie as she stared into her mother’s angry eyes. Funny how one person could change her mood so drastically.
“I have to get my script, Mama.” She turned toward the stairs.
“Althea and I are meeting for breakfast at the Elkhorn, so I won’t be here when you come back down,” her mother said. “Her nephew is due to arrive later today, and we have a lot to discuss.”
“I see.”
Just two words, but they were all Lottie could muster.
She trudged up the stairs, her heart as heavy as lead. She felt the sting of tears but brushed them away. Nothing—not even Mama— could ruin a morning as lovely as this one.
Moments later, with script in hand, she headed back down the stairs. True to her word, Mama had disappeared. Not that Lottie minded. She didn’t have it in her to face another confrontation. When she saw her father on the front porch, she cringed. Would he scold her as well?
No, in his usual fashion, he swept her into his arms and planted a kiss in her curls. “Well, g’mornin’ Lottie-Lou. I thought you were working over at the lodge today.”
“I am. I’m headed back there now.” She held up her script. “Just had to come home to fetch this.”
“Ah. I see.” His eyebrows elevated in mock villainous style. “The infamous melodrama.” A chuckle followed. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“That you’re directing a melodrama for the stage while your mama and Althea Baker have decided to write a real-life one.”
“The mess with the Women’s League, you mean?”
“Is there anything else?” He grinned. “Don’t worry, sweet stuff. This will blow over. I feel sure of it.”
“Mama’s really gone overboard this time, Pa. Have you heard what she’s saying about the women staying at the lodge? She’s stirred up a lot of trouble, and none of it is true.”
“I’ve heard.” He squared his shoulders. “And trust me, I’ve done my part to convince her she’s wrong, but she won’t hear of it. You know how she is when she gets her mind made up. To her way of thinking, the whole thing smells of sin and corruption.”
Lottie shook her head. “How did it come to this? We just wanted to have a simple little theatrical to raise money for the lodge. Bringing in real actresses seemed like a magnificent idea at the time, and I have to say I’m more convinced now than ever. I wish you could’ve seen them at rehearsal last night, Pa. They’re amazing. So good that they almost make the fellas look like they can act too.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Almost. Anyway, we’re blessed to have them.”
“No doubt.” He turned to wave at Dave, the ranch’s foreman. “Though, I can’t believe they stayed after getting such a cold reception at church yesterday.”
“Not only have they decided to stay, they know about the Parkers’ financial woes and want to do all they can to help.” Lottie’s eyes misted over. “See what I mean? They’re such wonderful women, and they’re being unfairly judged.”
“Sounds like it,” he said. “But let’s go back to what you said about the Parkers’ financial woes.” He paused and gave her a penetrating gaze. “They’re really in trouble?”
“Yes, Pa. It’s been a struggle since Mr. Parker passed away. Keeping the lodge open, I mean.”
He headed toward Dave, who continued to wave from the east pasture. “It will kill Gilbert to have to shut that place down. It was his father’s dream for as long as I can remember.”
Lottie followed on her father’s heels. “Yes, I know. And that’s why I’ve been working so hard to help them come up with ways to bring in money. Don’t you see? When they hurt, I hurt.” She paused. “I hope you don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, but I almost look at the Parkers as family. Now that Winifred is gone to Denver, I find myself more and more drawn to Gilbert’s family. I mean you and Mama no disrespect. Honest and true. But I enjoy—”
“Helping folks out.” Her father slipped his arm over her shoulders. “That’s such an admirable trait, Lottie-Lou. Have I told you how very proud I am?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “But would you mind telling Mama? She thinks I’m a—a…”
“A what?”
Lottie wanted to use the word madame but didn’t dare. “A person who brought unsavory women to town,” she said at last. And if she knew I let Gilbert kiss me, she’d probably question my reputation even more.
Her father slowed his pace. “Honey, I’m sure the Lord will show us His true purpose for those women being in Estes Park. I feel pretty sure it has nothing to do with a play. If what Phineas and some of the other men have said is true, they’re here as potential brides. You know he’s been calling them wedding belles, don’t you?”
Lottie gasped, horrified at what he’d heard. “Pa, it’s not really like that. I mean, it sort of is, but not r
eally. The fellas thought maybe if they brought women to town, some of them might end up finding brides in the batch, but it’s not like these are arranged marriages or anything like that. I’m no marriage broker, trust me. If I were, I would’ve landed myself a husband by now.”
He chuckled. “Don’t go marrying yourself off. I’ve already lost one daughter to Denver. Don’t want to lose my last remaining child to a husband. Not just yet, anyway.”
He continued walking and Lottie trudged along behind him. “Pa, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” He flung open the gate to the pasture and stepped inside. “What do you need to know?”
“Are you ashamed of me?”
“Ashamed?” He glanced her way, eyes wide. “Whatever makes you ask a question like that, Lottie?”
She stepped inside the gate and he closed it behind them. “I don’t know. I just wonder if you think I’m an embarrassment to the family in some way.”
“I could never be embarrassed by you. You’re my little girl. I’m proud of you.”
“Wish everyone felt that way,” she mumbled.
Her father grabbed his gloves from a nearby fence post then pressed them on and gestured to Dave, who worked just a few yards away, branding the cows. The stark smell of burning flesh permeated the air as, one by one, the hot brand hit the backside of each animal.
She remained rooted in place as her father joined Dave. “What do you think of the new brand, sweet stuff?” her father called out from the corral. He pointed to the brand on a cow’s rump. “We’re expanding the business, so we need a newer, more modern brand. Folks from here to Texas will know they’re eating Sanders’ beef.” A broad smile followed.
“That’s nice, Pa.” She sighed. Clearly, he didn’t get the point, or he wouldn’t be talking about cows right now.
Her gaze landed on a cow with a brown patch across its left side. Something about it gave her reason to pause. She squinted, trying to figure out why she suddenly felt ill at ease looking at it.