“It’s low, but not too low,” Elizabeth offered, coming up behind her and taking the glass from her hand.
When she faced the mirror fully, she looked up. It was beautiful. She’d never seen anything like it. Her whole life she’d worn baggy gray or brown high-necked dresses. Dresses designed to diminish a woman’s looks, to lower her ability to tempt a man from the straight and narrow. But if Clint saw her in this dress…
Oh heavens, she wanted him to see her in this dress that seemed to capture the light and reflect it in flattering shimmers over her skin. This dress that fit her like a glove and made her look sensuously curved rather than fat. This dress that made her hair blonder, her eyes bluer. This dress that made her look like a woman who should be on his arm.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Pearl shook her head and handed Jenna back her glass.
“A dress can only enhance what’s already there.” She adjusted the seam under her left arm. “And you’ve always had a lot to work with.”
“I’m not beautiful.”
“Clint told Asa you were,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“When?”
“The first time he saw you outside the mercantile.”
“That was a long time ago. How would you know?”
“Because he’s been watching you ever since, and Asa never lies.”
You were always meant to be mine.
She tried to get used to the expanse of neckline, tracing it with her finger, imagining Clint’s reaction if she did it in front of him. He would love it if it were in the privacy of their bedroom, but at a social?
“I can’t wear this.”
“You have to wear that,” Dorothy countered. “You have to wear that dress to the social, and you have to smile and dance and have the time of your life with every man who asks you to dance.”
“Why?”
“Because the only way to get a man to face what he’s feeling is to give him a taste of what he might lose.”
“You want me to trick Clint?”
“New brides,” Millicent muttered.
“Think of it more as opening his eyes,” Pearl suggested.
Jenna recalled the honesty and emotion in Clint’s dark eyes as he held her through her fears. The tenderness of his touch. The surety in his voice as he said, “I see you, Sunshine.” And she saw him too. His pride. His honor. His need.
“No.”
“It’s the quickest means to an end,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“That doesn’t make it right.” Hurting Clint would never be right.
“Doesn’t make it wrong, either,” Millicent put in. “Just another path to where you want to go.”
“It would upset him.” Jenna had had a belly full of people taking her down paths that her instincts said were wrong.
“Won’t be the first time he’s been upset,” Mara offered. “And it would only be for a minute.”
“I won’t do that to him.” A minute would be too long to inflict that type of pain on someone.
“Well damn,” Millicent muttered. “Now we’ll have to use the boring backup plan.”
“What’s that?”
“Just walk up and flat-out ask the man if he loves you.”
Jenna took a sip of the foul whiskey, shuddering as the taste filled her mouth. Maybe wearing the dress wasn’t such a bad idea.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jenna blinked as she stepped out of the dress shop into the bright sunlight.
Bri turned her face into her neck and whimpered. Jenna pulled the little one’s bonnet down to shield her eyes even as she pulled the thick blanket up higher over her head against the biting cold.
“I think winter will be cold this year,” Mara said, waiting by the edge of the wooden walk so they could head over to the bakery.
“It sure feels like it,” Jenna hurried to catch up, “but no matter what, Clint’s house will be a lot warmer than my previous ones.”
“Clint had that place sealed six ways to Sunday after he bought it.”
Jenna patted Bri’s back. She was overdue for her nap and beginning to fuss.
“He’s like that.”
Mara cast her a sidelong glance. “I think it was more than that.”
“Oh.”
“Said he didn’t like the thought of his wife freezing.”
“I forgot about the great wife hunt.”
She’d deliberately put it as far from her mind as possible.
“I think he had someone specific in mind.”
“Oh.”
Mara gave her a shove on her arm. “You silly.”
“I was married!”
“We were all painfully aware of that. Especially whenever Clint would see you shivering about town in that old cloak, and Hennesey would be in that saloon gambling and drinking. There were times when Cougar worried that Clint would lose it.”
“Clint hates injustice.”
“Clint hated not having the right to protect you,” Mara said, pulling up short as the barber/dentist shop door swung opened. A man stumbled out, holding his jaw. He nodded to them both, winced, and stepped off the walkway.
“I’m so glad my teeth are good.” Jenna followed his uneven walk as he crossed the frozen, rutted street.
“You and me both,” Mara echoed her shudder. “But if that was an attempt to change the subject, it’s not working.”
“I wasn’t trying to change the subject.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Frankly,” Mara continued down the walk, rubbing her hands together against the chill, “we were all surprised when Clint didn’t start courting you the day after Hennesey died.”
“That wouldn’t have been proper.”
“I’ve never known Clint to be overly concerned with propriety when he wanted something.” Mara held her hair out of her face.
Neither had Jenna, truth be told.
Mara reached over and tucked the blanket under Bri’s shoulder, making a face at the little girl as she did. When she straightened, her expression was completely serious.
“And he wanted you, Jenna. Don’t ever doubt that.”
He wanted you. The words echoed in Jenna’s head, giving birth to that hope that battled common sense.
“Wanting isn’t loving.”
“To a McKinnely it is,” Mara said that with the certainty of a preacher declaring sin.
“There are things you don’t know that affect Clint’s feelings.”
“Bullshit.” Mara stopped and turned, her fingers on Jenna’s cloak, catching her arm, forcing her to stop and look at her.
“Clint and Cougar are as close as brothers, share the same values, and have that McKinnely tenacity to a fault so I know, absolutely know, there is nothing in your past, present, or future that can ever turn that man from your side.”
“Cougar loves you.”
“And Clint loves you.” There wasn’t a smidgeon of doubt in her tone. “I know everyone’s been giving you well-meaning advice and I’m probably no more welcome than the rest, but my guess is that whatever kept Clint from claiming you immediately, is the same thing holding him back from saying that he loves you.”
An interesting theory but so damned unlikely.
“He could just not love me.” Jenna stepped to the left as the mercantile door jangled a warning. Mara stepped right with her, chin coming up in a way that screamed stubborn.
“He loves you.”
She wanted to believe that so damned much.
“Mrs. Hennesey,” a woman’s voice interrupted. “Could I have a moment?”
Jenna had heard that cold, controlled voice too many times not to tense as it came from behind her. Meetings with the mayor’s wife were never pleasant. Today, when her nerves were stretched tight and her stomach nauseated, promised to be worse than usual.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Salisbury.” She turned, nodding to the taller, well-dressed woman standing just outside the mercantile door.
“Afternoon Shirley.” Mara nodded, demonstr
ating none of Jenna’s instinctive deference. “And that would be Mrs. McKinnely now.”
“So I heard.” With a nod so slight it didn’t even disturb the garish bird perched in the turned-up brim of her lavish hat, Shirley acknowledged Mara. The sniff that punctuated the remark conveyed as strongly as the bitter lines beside her thin mouth just how she felt about Jenna’s marriage. “I hope you don’t expect to immediately become part of our community just because you married Clint McKinnely.”
Jenna’s stomach churned acid. She hated confrontations like this. Bri, sensing her tension began to whimper. Her “Of course not” was drowned out by Mara’s “She’s already part of our community”.
“Hardly.” The look Shirley shot Mara contained more venom than politeness. “And if you continue to be seen in her company, you may find your own tenuous position threatened.”
Jenna closed her eyes briefly against the waves of hostility battering them. She tried to edge between Mara and the woman, to deflect some of her anger. It was a waste of effort. While she’d heard tell of Mara’s temper, she’d never actually believed the tiny woman capable of even a harsh word. She’d been wrong.
With an “Excuse me” that had Jenna blinking twice at its coldness, Mara stepped in front of her. She didn’t stop there, either. She went two steps further, until the hem of her fashionable green dress pushed aside the hem of Shirley’s matronly navy blue one.
“Did you just threaten me?” The question was asked in a flat monotone that was eerily calm for all the energy it contained. Jenna wasn’t surprised when Shirley inched toward the edge of the walk. Mara was a very scary woman when riled. And she was riled. Her cinnamon colored eyes seemed to glow in her tight face as she matched Shirley step for step. “Did you?”
“I merely pointed out the facts.”
“Mara, it’s okay.” Jenna touched Mara’s arm while trying to gently bounce Bri from her own bad mood.
“Like hell it is.” Mara’s chin came up and her shoulders squared. She never took her eyes off of Shirley. “Let me point out a few facts of my own, Mrs. Salisbury. Jenna is a McKinnely. We are thrilled to have her in the family and any slight against her is a slight against us all.”
“All, meaning you?” Shirley sneered, disdain dripping from every pore. “A whore from the most notorious whorehouse in the territory? I’m supposed to worry about offending you?”
The twitch in Mara’s fingers gave away the fact that the shot had found its mark, and the panic in Jenna’s stomach solidified to a hard knot of anger that exploded outward in violent driving waves.
“How dare you say something so filthy?”
“It’s the truth and no amount of whitewashing will remove the stench.” Shirley didn’t even blink.
Mara leapt forward. Jenna caught her arm and shoved her behind her, advancing on Shirley, fury battling with reason.
“You vindictive, evil woman. You are so twisted with jealousy that you think you’re entitled to spew your venom everywhere.” Jenna stepped closer, forcing the woman back, for once glad of her size. “But you’re not. It’s not okay at all. I’ve let you spew on me for years because I felt sorry for you, always trying to put the best face forward when you had to be so unhappy the way your husband treated you, and because, quite frankly, I thought I was somehow deserving. But you will not,” she shoved her face in Shirley’s, so close that she could see the fine grains of powder she used on her complexion, “ever say a word against me or mine again.”
“Or what?” Shirley snapped, not totally backing down.
She was never so glad for her years with Jack. One thing she knew was how to deliver a threat. She lowered her voice, settled her weight onto her feet, and smiled the coldest smile she knew how to imitate. “Or I’ll use every evil, twisted, painful torture my dead husband taught me to make you scream with regret.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Shirley took another step back.
“She’s daring all kinds of things lately, Shirley,” Mara offered, “so I wouldn’t bet your health on that.”
Bri’s whimpers turned to wails. Shirley cut the baby a hate-filled glance.
“It shouldn’t have been you,” she whispered.
“What?”
“If you hadn’t interfered, whored your way into his bed, played on his sympathy, Clint would have married my Rebecca.”
“Is that what this is all about? You thought Clint was interested in Rebecca?” Jenna blinked, pulling back a step as the pieces fell into place.
“You stole him from her.”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” she said over Bri’s wails. “They never would have been happy.” Jenna shook her head, the anger draining from her as understanding took its place.
“At least she wouldn’t have stuck him with that filthy brat.”
The rage surged free from deep inside Jenna, welling out of nowhere, years of swallowing it back just giving it more force, coloring her vision red, and giving her strength that she didn’t know she had. With a hard push, Jenna sent the woman toppling backward off the raised walk straight into the horse trough. The cracking of ice punctuated Shirley’s shriek as water splashed over the sides of the rough wood and closed over her head.
Mara’s “Damn” drifted through the red haze surrounding her as Jenna stepped down to the trough where Shirley floundered on her back, her teeth already chattering from the frigid cold. With her free hand, she pulled the older woman’s face clear of the dirty water. Powder ran off her face in pale streaks as Jenna held her suspended.
“If you ever say a word against my children again, I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”
“And when she gets done with you, it’ll be my turn.” The swish of Mara’s skirts preceded her step into view. Sunlight glinted off the knife she held in her hand.
Shirley tore her gaze from Jenna’s to the knife in Mara’s hand and back to Jenna’s face. Her pale face grew paler, blue mixing with the white. Her mouth opened and closed twice, and then she started to scream. Loud, earsplitting shrieks that grated. Jenna let her drop back into the water, and turned away, feeling shaky as the fury slowly subsided. Looking around, she noted townsperson after townsperson staring, their expressions in various stages of shock.
Her knees grew weak, and she started to shake.
“Well, one thing’s for sure, we’re going to be either heroes or villains in everyone’s eyes by the end of the day,” Mara muttered as she grabbed Jenna’s elbow and hurried her out of the crowd.
“Heroes?”
“Don’t you fall apart on me now,” Mara ordered as Jenna stumbled. “There are a lot of people who would love to have the courage to dunk that old bitch.”
“Oh God, I pushed the mayor’s wife into the horse trough!” The realization of what she’d done began to sink in.
“Yes. You did.”
“I need to sit down.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. Her hand was shaking. Her whole body was shaking with the enormity of the potential consequences.
“Not right now you don’t,” Mara said, casting a glance over her shoulder.
“Oh God, Clint is going to hate me.” Jenna followed the trajectory of her gaze. A crowd was gathered in front of the mercantile and from the gesturing, it was an angry one.
“Considering the woman called your daughter filthy and a brat, you’re not the one he’s going to hate.”
“I’d better go apologize.” Jenna tugged against Mara’s grip. Mara dug in her heels and hauled Jenna along.
“What we’d better do is get ourselves to the livery and then home to our husbands.”
“Is Cougar going to be mad at you because of me?” Jenna didn’t need another person suffering because of her.
Mara shook her head and laughed. “He’ll probably want to know why we didn’t hold her under longer.”
“I didn’t even know I had a temper.”
“Well, you do, and as a witness to what you’re like when you get going, I’d say a pretty fierce one.”
“The truth is good.” Mara steadied her as she tripped in a rut.
“He’ll be angry.”
“And that’s a damn impressive man to get riled. The mayor is going to wish he’d sent his wife back East like he planned last spring.”
“He’s not going to be happy with me either.”
“No doubt we’ll both get the full lecture about not endangering ourselves,” Mara said as they darted around a wagon. She tugged harder on Jenna’s arm, jostling Bri, who hiccupped mid-cry and then paused to see if she liked the new sensation.
“I’ll give you a hint,” Mara grunted as she hopped a frozen puddle. “If you start undoing buttons about halfway through, they lose steam fast.”
Jenna smiled. She couldn’t help it. She could just see the irrepressible Mara using feminine wiles against her big husband to get out of a lecture.
“I might try that.”
The glance Mara cut her was wry. “Since you’ve got a heck of a lot more ammunition in your pack than I do, you might get away with only having to listen to a quarter of the lecture.”
Jenna wasn’t sure about that. Her foot twisted in a rut and her leg gave out. She fell, pulling Mara off balance as she did. Bri, contrary as always, gurgled with laughter as they landed in a pile of skirts.
“You ladies ought to learn to take advantage of the alleys.”
Jenna froze. She knew that voice…that tone. She slowly looked up. Sunlight flashing off Mark’s badge streaked her vision.
“Jenna Hennesey, you need to come with me.”
Every nightmare she’d suppressed suddenly screamed for recognition, stealing her breath and her strength until alI she could do was sit there on the ground in a cold sweat, pinned by memories that were no longer willing to be denied.
Mara scrambled to her feet, and glared at Mark. “That’s Jenna McKinnely and she’s not going anywhere with you.”
“The mayor appointed me deputy while the sheriff is gone, so that pretty much means she goes where I say.”
It wasn’t what Mark said, but more the way he said it that sent chills down Jenna’s spine. Mark could be very unpredictable—to the point that she’d often questioned his sanity. It wasn’t wise to provoke him the way Mara was doing.
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