Lightning and Lawmen

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Lightning and Lawmen Page 5

by Shanna Hatfield


  Delilah had always been accepted in the upper circles of society because of her father’s military career, but she’d never had close friends. Not the type she’d seen among her peers. Perhaps it was the fact she much preferred to share her most intimate thoughts with the flowers and birds in her garden than with a fickle member of her own species.

  The sound of footsteps drew her from her musings as Edwin and the deputy walked into the room with both boxes full of trash. They carried them outside and dumped them on the still burning pile in the backyard before returning to the kitchen.

  “I best be on my way,” Dugan said, brushing his hands on the legs of his denims as he smiled at Delilah.

  “Would you like to stay for a glass of lemonade, Deputy? Mrs. Greenfield made it and it’s quite delicious.” Delilah held a glass out toward him.

  “I should be getting back to the office, but I don’t reckon another minute will make much difference.” He glanced down at his hands then over at the kitchen sink. “May I?”

  “Of course,” Delilah said, motioning for him to use the sink. She located a clean towel in a box Hattie had brought over and handed one to him.

  After he dried his hands, he took the glass from her. When his fingers brushed over hers, she nearly dropped the glass. Thankfully, he already had a firm grip on it.

  He gave her a probing look then tipped back the glass and drank the lemonade in one long breath. Delilah couldn’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down with each swallow until he drained the last drop and handed the glass back to her.

  “Thank you, Miss Robbins. If you have any more trouble with unwanted wildlife, of the four or two-legged variety, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir. Your assistance is greatly appreciated,” she said, following as the deputy strode down the hall to the front door.

  He nodded once to her, pushed open the screen door, then settled his hat back on his head before he jogged down the porch steps and made his way into the center of town.

  “Nice young chap, that Dugan is,” Edwin said from beside her, making her draw in a startled breath.

  “So it seems,” she said, spinning around and rushing back to the work of setting the house to rights.

  Chapter Four

  “Take this and spend the day doing nothing, Lila,” Ross said, sliding four five-dollar gold pieces across the table to her. “You’ve more than earned a day off. Wander around town, buy yourself a new hat, or just sit in the sunshine and read today.”

  Delilah and her father were alone in Hattie and Edwin’s dining room, lingering over cups of perfectly brewed tea after partaking of a generous, delicious breakfast. They’d been in town five days and Delilah had spent every one of them at the house, cleaning. She’d given the floors a coat of wax the previous evening, right after she’d finished polishing the windows until they gleamed.

  The meteorologist’s house had gone from a filthy wreck to an immaculately clean abode. Surprisingly, they only had to paint one room and replace a portion of wallpaper in the front bedroom. A few loose hinges and one broken window were simple enough to repair. With the sparse furniture left at the house, they could move in Monday, giving the smell of paint and floor wax plenty of time to fade.

  Her hands were red and sore from all the work of cleaning and scrubbing, but she’d enjoyed the physical labor after spending a week on the train west.

  Although she didn’t like to idly squander her days, she had wanted to explore Baker City and visit several shops.

  “Go on, honey. Take the money and enjoy yourself.” Ross took a long drink of his tea then leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you’d like to visit Mrs. MacGregor’s dress shop or stop in at Mr. Miller’s Mercantile. Both are excellent places to shop. In fact, I met Mr. MacGregor yesterday when I stopped to purchase lumber to finish the repairs at the weather station. He invited us to join him and his wife for dinner next Monday.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely, Papa. I’ll look forward to seeing their home. It’s that beautiful place located behind the lumberyard isn’t it?”

  Ross nodded his head. “Yes, that’s correct.” He grinned at her. “If I know you at all, my darling daughter, what you’re interested in seeing isn’t the house as much as the flowers and gardens. You’ve no doubt heard it’s the prettiest place in town, next to Hattie and Edwin’s lovely yard.”

  Delilah’s eyes snapped with amusement. “You would not be entirely wrong in your assessment, Papa.”

  He chuckled and then finished his tea. After setting the cup back on the saucer, he rose to his feet then bent down and kissed her on top of the head. “I mean it, Lila. Give yourself a lazy day. I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll have some other project you want to tackle at the house.”

  “The whole fence needs to either be repaired or replaced before I can begin working on that atrocious yard. And we must get the ground ready for planting. It appears we’ll have an early spring and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to get a head start on my flowers.”

  Ross walked over to the dining room doorway then turned to look back at her. “As soon as I finish the repairs at the weather station, I’ll see about the fence. If all goes well, I should have things in ship-shape order by tomorrow at the latest.”

  “Mr. Sutler’s blatant disregard of proper care of both the house and the weather station equipment is deplorable. With the huge hole in the weather station wall, it’s a wonder the equipment wasn’t either stolen or ruined completely.” Delilah didn’t know how she’d hold her tongue if she ever encountered Eugene Sutler. Perhaps it was best he was rumored to have fled the area after supposedly robbing a miner.

  “At any rate, it’s a good thing we got here when we did. Even with the challenges we faced upon arriving, I can at least get the weather report sent on time each day.”

  “That is nothing short of a miracle considering the derelict state of the instruments at the weather station. I’m so glad the home office has agreed to send updated instruments and equipment. When will it be here?”

  “It should arrive by the end of next week, if they got it all loaded on yesterday’s train.” Ross gave her a fatherly look. “Enjoy your day, sweetheart. I’ll see you back here for dinner.”

  “Yes, Papa. Have a good day. As you predicted, it’s another beautiful, sunny day.” Delilah smiled as he winked at her and left the room.

  In no rush, she took her time finishing her tea then loaded her dishes and her father’s on a tray Hattie had left on a sideboard and carried it to the kitchen.

  “Goodness, you didn’t need to bring in the dishes,” Hattie said, taking the tray from her and setting it on the counter near the large sink.

  “It was no trouble at all. Thank you for another wonderful meal. If we stay here much longer, I’ll have to let out the seams in my gowns.”

  Hattie slipped a hand around Delilah’s narrow waist. “I doubt that, Delilah. You work too hard to let any extra weight settle on you. What do you have planned to do today? Edwin and I should be free to help for a while this morning.”

  Delilah settled her arm around Hattie’s shoulders and gave the woman a hug. Although Delilah was taller than average for a woman, she was still far shorter than most men she’d encountered in town. It seemed Baker City had more than its share of powerfully built, rugged, tall men.

  “Papa has ordered me to spend a day doing nothing. Since I’m eager to explore the shops here in town, I’ve decided to follow his instructions, this time.”

  Hattie grinned as she set dishes into a sink full of hot, soapy water. “That’s wonderful. You should definitely visit Maggie’s dress shop, and the mercantile. Oh, and you might enjoy the Crystal Palace, it has such lovely dishes and things. There’s a store near the newspaper office that sells a variety of household linens. You might find some suitable curtains there, or at least the fabric to create them. If you work up an appetite while you’re shopping, the bakery close to the park makes the best sweet rolls and biscuits… er, cookies.”
Hattie grinned at her. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to calling them cookies.”

  “Whatever you call them, the sour cream ones you made yesterday were the best I’ve ever had.” Delilah gave Hattie another quick hug. “I’ll clear the rest of the dishes off the table then help you dry.”

  “No. I won’t hear of it. You do as your father said and relax today. You’ve been helping in the evenings and I appreciate it, but I assure you it isn’t necessary.”

  Delilah picked up the now empty tray and took a step toward the dining room. “You and Edwin have helped us since we arrived, so it’s only fair we help you in return. Isn’t that the neighborly thing to do?”

  Hattie looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she grinned and nodded her head. “I suppose it is, dear. If you bring the rest of the breakfast dishes, that would be appreciated, but I’ll see to washing and drying them.”

  It only took a few moments for Delilah to carry the remaining dishes into the kitchen then Hattie shooed her up the back stairs, telling her to get on with her day of leisure.

  In her room, Delilah changed from the simple calico gown she’d donned earlier into one of her favorite day dresses. Made of cream brocaded silk, the skirt and matching jacket were embroidered with bouquets of lavender, pink, and yellow flowers. A wide lapel turned back and fastened with loops of fabric at the shoulders. A six-inch peplum festooned the back of the jacket while the front dipped into a narrow point at her waist. An airy lavender chiffon shirtwaist provided a perfect complement to the ensemble and looked particularly striking with the hat bedecked with lavender and cream silk roses she fastened on her head.

  Delilah tugged on a pair of cream gloves, picked up her reticule and dropped in the coins from her father, then tucked a lacy handkerchief up her sleeve before she gave herself one last glance in the mirror. “That will do quite well,” she muttered then sailed out of her room and down the front stairs.

  “Have a wonderful day, Hattie,” she called down the hall before she opened the front door and breezed down the porch steps and across the walk to the sidewalk.

  Delilah snapped open a parasol and held it over her head although she would have much preferred to bask in the sunshine. She might have left the parasol behind, but she felt it was important to make a good impression in town today. It was one thing to roll up the sleeves of a worn calico dress and work until her hands were chapped when no one would see her, but it was something else altogether when she wanted to represent the Robbins family in a good light. She’d long ago learned what she did when she was out and about in society reflected back on her father.

  The moments when prying eyes watched her every move, she behaved like the epitome of a lady. However, it was when no one was watching that she had the most fun. She’d have to put those days behind her, or at least on hold, until they were settled into the cottage, as she was coming to think of the meteorologist’s house. The design was quite charming in spite of the lack of care it had been given the last few years. By the time, she was finished decorating it and turning it into a home, it would be a lovely haven she and Papa could enjoy at the end of the day.

  Although she and her father had agreed to wait at least two weeks before deciding if they’d stay in Baker City, she knew they’d make it their permanent home. Papa fairly danced with excitement each morning, anticipating the work before him. She hadn’t seen him that engaged in his work for years. For that reason alone, she’d give up everything she loved in Washington, D.C. and accept Baker City as their new home.

  Delilah made her way to the main street of town and strolled unhurried past several shops. Eventually, she crossed the street and stood outside Maggie MacGregor’s dress shop, admiring the displays in the windows. An exquisite teal gown caught her eye. The fabric featured cream-colored feathers while the lace on the bodice and edging the sleeves was extraordinary.

  Determined to at least take a closer look, she snapped her parasol shut, opened the door, and stepped inside the shop. A bell jangled overhead, announcing her arrival.

  “Good morning,” a friendly voice called before a beautiful dark-haired woman stepped out of the back into the showroom. “How may I be of service to you today?”

  “Good morning,” Delilah said, returning the woman’s smile. “Are you Mrs. MacGregor?”

  The woman nodded her head. “I am. You must be new in town. I haven’t seen you before or noticed anyone wearing that lovely gown. Is that a Worth?”

  Delilah glanced down at her dress. “It is. My papa gave it to me for my birthday.”

  “It’s splendid and features such beautiful colors for spring.” Mrs. MacGregor walked in a circle around Delilah. “One of my friends has a few Worth gowns, and also several created by Madame Beauchamp.”

  Delilah’s eyes widened. “She’s impossible to get an appointment with. Your friend must be someone very special.”

  The shop owner grinned. “She is special, but not because of the gowns.” The woman’s smile widened. “By chance, would you be Miss Robbins? My husband mentioned meeting your father and inviting you both to supper on Monday.”

  “Yes, I’m Miss Robbins, but I hope you’ll call me Delilah.”

  “Only if you promise to call me Maggie.” The woman placed a gentle hand on her arm.

  “Maggie it is,” Delilah said, liking the affable woman. “I’ve heard you have a lovely home and gardens. I can hardly wait to see them.”

  “We look forward to having you and your father visit.” Maggie took a step closer to her. “Is there something I can help you with this morning, though? If you dropped in for a visit, I just made a pot of tea. Would you care for a cup?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I noticed your beautiful window displays the other day when we arrived in town, but today is the first day I’ve had free to explore any of the shops.” Delilah walked closer to the display window and pointed to the teal gown. “I’m in love with that dress. I have quite a fondness for our little feathered friends and the feathers painted on the fabric are so lovely.”

  “Then, by all means, you must try it on.” Maggie stepped into the display and began removing the dress from the mannequin.

  Delilah let her gaze rove around the shop, taking in Maggie’s amazing designs and quality merchandise. In addition to fine gowns and suits, she also had riding skirts, shirtwaists, and a few simple cotton dresses. One shelf on the far wall held an assortment of hats.

  “I admit I’m quite impressed with your selection,” Delilah said, walking over to the row of hats. She was pleased to see not a single one of them had any bird parts. The fashion of adorning a hat or gown with actual parts of a bird was ghastly.

  Many women in the social circles back home adored the trend, but Delilah hated it. She’d seen everything from homely gray swallows to beautiful bluebirds mounted on hats. Some designs used plumes or a few long feathers, but others mounted long pieces from the breasts of pigeons or peacocks, or the entire bird. She’d even witnessed birds attached to hats on wires and springs that permitted the head and wings to move in a bird-like manner.

  “Is there a milliner in town?” Delilah asked, glancing back at Maggie as she stepped out of the display with the dress over her arm.

  “No. We had one, but he left just before Christmas. He said he was tired of the cold and headed for California.” Maggie joined her at the hat display. “Millinery is not my first choice or best talent, but I keep a selection on hand.”

  “I’m so pleased to see you don’t subscribe to the current bird trend.”

  Maggie’s smile dropped. “I think it’s detestable what some milliners do to those poor birds. A few ostrich plumes remains the extent of what I’m willing to take from birds for a hat.”

  “With so many ostrich farms popping up to meet the demands of the fashion-conscious, I’m not quite as adamant about those particular plumes as some of the others.” Delilah fingered a delicate toque adorned with white netting, then turned to Maggie. “You really do have so many lovely thi
ngs here in your shop. How long have you been the proprietress?”

  While Maggie showed her to a fitting room and helped her try on the gown, she shared her story of coming to Baker City as a young bride and joining forces with Thane Jordan and Tully Barrett.

  “When my Daniel died, I don’t know what would have happened to me if it hadn’t been for Thane and Tully. They struck gold, gave me a third, and then Thane bought my share of the mine. I opened my store and spent a long time mourning my husband. Last year, Ian decided it was time I noticed he’d been in love with me since he moved to town a few years earlier. He was quite relentless in his pursuit.” Maggie’s gaze seemed far away and a soft smile curved her lips upward. “I’m quite glad he convinced me to start living again instead of just going through the motions.”

  “So you and Mr. MacGregor haven’t been married long?” Delilah asked, glancing in the mirror with a critical eye.

  “No, we wed in the summer, not long before Tully married Brianna.”

  “I look forward to meeting the sheriff and his wife upon their return to town. The deputies mentioned he’d be back soon.”

  “Yes, Brianna, Tully, and Sammy are due on today’s train. I hope they enjoyed the coast. Ian and I had a lovely time there last summer.” Maggie fussed with the pouf of a sleeve. “What do you think?”

  Delilah smoothed a hand down the front of the patterned silk skirt. The short, cropped jacket of the ensemble featured rich lace dyed to match the teal of the fabric while a satin sash in the same teal tone encircled her waist. The jacket topped a finely-made lace shirtwaist.

  “This lace is the finest I’ve ever seen,” she said, gently fingering a flower in the design.

  “It’s made locally, by Thane’s sister-in-law. Allie is the most talented lace maker I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Her work is flawless,” Delilah said, studying her image in the mirror again. She loved the color of the gown, the way it accented her figure, and, of course, the feathers in the design of the fabric. “I’m afraid to ask if I can afford this.”

 

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