“But what will I tell people?” She appeared to be considering it, but worry still creased her forehead.
“Just say they’re visiting from out of town. Right now, that’s the truth. You don’t know any more than that, and who knows? They may be telling the truth about trying to find a relative. You can question them more after you get home tonight. Taking them for ice cream might be just what you need to gain their trust.”
She nodded. “I think I will. You’re sure you don’t mind them coming with us?”
Andrew drew in a short breath. All this time he’d been trying to help Margaret solve her immediate problem, not stopping to think how it would impact the rest of their evening. He’d so looked forward to some time alone with Margaret, and now they’d have two youngsters with them. “I’m sure.” He decided with a rush and knew he’d made a good choice when the last vestiges of worry fell away from her pretty face.
She touched his arm, and her smile reached her eyes. “Thank you. We’d better let them know, and I need to change into something a little nicer than this.” She ran her hand down the front of her long cotton skirt. “It’s not really suited to a social gathering. I’ll just need a minute.”
“Of course.” He stood and walked her to the cabin, his heart lighter than it had been minutes before. We, he thought. She could just as easily have relegated him to the outside of the circle, but she’d included him in the next step. Children or not, he was taking Margaret Garvey to the ice-cream social, and nothing would mar this evening.
Margaret walked beside Andrew with her heart pounding against her rib cage, and not just due to her attraction to Andrew. Not that she didn’t like him—that was part of the problem. She did, and she wasn’t sure what to do with her feelings after finding her father’s letter. Andrew had been kind and attentive, but no more so than any man who’d made a promise to look after another man’s daughter. She’d been hurt by Nathaniel in the past, and she’d have to guard her heart from future injury by Andrew, as well.
Then there was the problem of Nathaniel Cooper. Her emotions had been topsy-turvy since her eyes had met his that Sunday morning in church. He’d probably attend the ice-cream social. She gave herself a hard mental shake. What did it matter if he did, for goodness’ sake? He wasn’t part of her life anymore. She’d simply treat him as she would any old acquaintance and move on with her life.
She hazarded a peek at Andrew, who’d fallen silent. She couldn’t blame him. Her answers had been short and distracted—certainly not what they should be for a young woman being escorted on her first outing with a young man. Then there were the children—another spoke in the wheel of her already complicated life. Not for a minute did she believe they were simply hunting for a relative. They were runaways, frightened of something in their past.
Joel and Samantha lagged behind. Samantha’s voice broke the silence. “Can’t we stay at your house alone? We won’t be no trouble there, I promise.”
Margaret expelled a soft sigh. They’d already had this discussion at her cabin, and she thought they’d settled it. She turned to glance over her shoulder. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t feel good about doing that. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a small group of townspeople, and you’ll have a good time. Joel, Mr. Gibbs said you can visit Buck tomorrow if you’d like.”
The boy’s face brightened, and he quickened his step. “Is Buck comin’ today? Can I play with him there?”
Samantha answered before Margaret had a chance. “No, dogs don’t eat ice cream. Or do they, Miss Margaret?”
Margaret tried to hide her delight at the more familiar use of her name. The girl had been standoffish for the past forty-eight hours, but it appeared she was starting to relax. “I don’t know. Cats like cream and milk, and I imagine they’d like melted ice cream, so maybe a dog would too. But Mr. Gibbs said Buck isn’t friendly with strangers, so I imagine he’ll leave him at home.”
The boy’s face fell, and his feet dragged. “Aw, shucks. He was friendly to me. I could a’kept him happy.”
Andrew slowed his pace and allowed the two children to catch up. “I’ll bet you could, Joel.” He paused a beat. “Did you have a dog at your last home?”
“Naw. Mrs. St…”
Samantha jabbed him in the side with her elbow.
“Ouch.” He rubbed the spot on his side and frowned. “What’d you do that for, Sammie? I was just going to tell ’em about where we lived.”
Samantha stopped on the trail and grabbed his arm, bringing him to a halt, her loud, sibilant whisper still reaching Margaret’s ears. “We’re not answering any questions, Joel. I told you that before. Not about where we used to live, or anything.”
He scuffed his toe in the dirt and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Aw, golly. I plumb forgot. I’m sorry.” He raised hopeful eyes to hers. “Can I tell them we didn’t have a dog?”
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, but that’s it. It’s nobody else’s business where we came from or what we’re doing.” She stared at Andrew and Margaret, who’d stopped a little ways ahead, and raised her voice. “We’re beholden to you for your help and hospitality, but we can’t be telling you nothing.”
Andrew took a step toward her and reached out his hand, then dropped his arm to his side when Samantha pulled away. “Why not? Miss Margaret is trying to help you. Can’t you trust her?”
Samantha stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. “No sir. Can’t trust no one. We dasn’t. Sorry, ma’am, no disrespect meant, but we won’t go back.”
Margaret took a step closer to the pair. “Did you run away from your last home?”
The long braid whipped around her shoulders at the hard shake of her head. “I ain’t saying, but I’m not going to let anyone hurt my brother, no matter what.”
Andrew’s brows rose and he glanced at Margaret, then back at Samantha. “Did someone hurt you or your brother? If so, we might be able to help.”
The girl shook her head. “No one can help. I’m not saying another word about it, and I’d be beholden to you if you didn’t pry.”
Margaret sighed, but nodded. “I’ll try to respect your wishes, Samantha, but I can’t stand back and do nothing if I find you’re in danger.”
“We’re not. So do we have to go inside at this ice-cream society, or whatever you call it, or can Joel and I sit outside and wait for you?”
Joel dropped the wood knot he’d been examining and snapped to attention. “Aww, Sammie, I want to go! Please, Sammie! I ain’t never had ice cream.” He clutched her arm and looked down at her with eyes that pleaded.
“All right. I don’t think we should, but we’ll go this one time.” Samantha rounded on Margaret and Andrew and dropped her voice. “But I’ll ask you not to be talking about us to folks. Don’t want people whispering things, or snooping. If anyone asks, just tell ’em we’re on the way to our great-aunt’s house.”
Margaret cast a look at Andrew. “Remember, it’s only normal for people to be curious about strangers who come to our little town.”
“Can’t you just tell them we’re kin? You won’t be saying we’ve run away or anything, will you?” Her dark eyes widened, and moisture gathered in the corners, threatening to spill over.
Margaret hesitated, her heart doing a dance with her honesty, and each trouncing on the other’s toes as her eyes continued to stare into the big brown ones of the slender girl looking up at her. What had this child gone through in her short thirteen years of life? All she’d been willing to share was that her parents were dead and that she was seeking some unknown relatives that could live somewhere in Oregon.
She glanced at Joel, who’d gone back to studying the knot he’d found on the trail as soon as Samantha had assured him his ice cream was safe. The boy’s appearance belied his sweet nature. Not that he would scare anyone, but standing near five-foot-seven inches tall, he was as big and nearly as husky as some men, and as simpleminded as a six-year-old. How long had his younger sister watched over him a
nd what kind of toll had it taken on the girl’s emotions? Sure, some girls were working full-time at thirteen to help support their family, but the responsibility for Joel’s care must be just as difficult. She’d have had to grow up pretty fast if her parents had been dead for more than a couple of years. No wonder she seemed wise beyond her years and afraid to trust.
Margaret made a quick decision. “I won’t lie about it, but I’ll do my best to steer the conversation away from anything that might embarrass you. All I ask is that you try to trust me, Samantha. I want to help you, but it’s going to be hard if you can’t be honest with me.”
Samantha gave a half shrug and dropped her gaze to the path, then raised her eyes and met Margaret’s. “I’ll try. I can’t promise how much I can tell you, but I won’t lie to you, either.”
“Fair enough. Now let’s go have some fun and see how much ice cream we can eat, shall we?” Margaret looped her arm through Samantha’s and reached out her hand for Joel. He eagerly placed his large palm over hers and squeezed, then extended his other toward Andrew, who gripped it and grinned at the boy. It was nice to see Joel happy and excited. They’d probably had little opportunity in their short lives for much celebrating.
Samantha pressed close to Margaret’s side and gripped her hand. Margaret smiled, pleased she seemed as anxious as her brother to attend, but a glance at the girl caused her heart to plummet. Samantha’s pinched, anxious face peered out from under her arm.
Chapter Fifteen
Nathaniel stood on the outskirts of the milling people hovering around the tables inside the Methodist church that still doubled as the community gathering place for socials, weddings, and such. He didn’t care as much for the ice cream as he did watching and listening. Two things interested him today—seeing if Margaret appeared on the arm of Andrew Browning, and listening for any whispers that might give him clues to Martin Jenkins’ demise. The doctor had confirmed that a hard blow to the man’s head had caused his death, and it was doubtful it came from his fall.
He’d been instructed by his boss to contact the sheriff of Multnomah County, and the man was due to stop by any day. That was one of the drawbacks to a mill-owned town—there was no local law enforcement, no mayor, no city council—just the man or company who owned the land that the mill and houses sat on. Oftentimes that man didn’t care a whit about what went on in his town, as long as it didn’t interfere with his money-making venture. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case with Mr. Palmer, or his company. He had a reputation as a caring man who looked out for his business as well as his workers, both at the lower Bridal Veil planer mill and the upper Palmer sawmill, as well.
So Nathaniel would keep his ears tuned for any careless words dropped that might implicate one of the men, and keep an especially sharp eye on Andrew Browning and Donnie Williams, both prime suspects in his estimation. His inclination was to lean toward Browning, but his innate fairness warned him that could be due to Margaret’s apparent interest in the man.
A young, fair-haired woman passed by and glanced at him with a smile, then drew to a stop. “Aren’t you Nathaniel Cooper? You used to live here a number of years back?”
Her face looked only vaguely familiar. He searched for a name but came up empty. “Yes, ma’am, that I would be.”
“I’m Clara White, a friend of Margaret Garvey’s.” Dimples touched the corner of her cheeks when she smiled, and her eyes lit with warm mirth.
He gave a small bow and returned her smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Do you know if Miss Garvey is attending tonight?” As soon as the words escaped, he wished he could yank them back. What a fool he was, still pining over a woman who’d lost interest in him years ago.
“I believe she is.” She glanced over his shoulder. “In fact, here she is now.” She raised her hand and beckoned. “Margaret, Andrew, come over for a moment?”
Nathaniel stifled a groan and closed his eyes, then squared his shoulders and turned. His heart missed a couple of beats as he caught sight of Margaret gliding across the floor toward them, her dark blue skirt swaying from trim hips. Her red gold hair was drawn back at the nape of her neck and curls lay across her shoulder. She wore a white blouse with pearl buttons up the front, trimmed lavishly with lace at the throat and wrists and down the front on each side of the buttons. She looked even more beautiful than she had the Sunday he’d seen her at church. Then his gaze traveled back to her face, and the expression he saw gave him a start. There was no smile, no light in her eyes, and it seemed as though all the color had drained from her cheeks.
Clara took a quick step forward and hugged Margaret, whispering something in her ear. Margaret shook her head and avoided Nathaniel’s gaze, saying something in a low voice to the young woman who linked arms and walked beside her.
Nathaniel suddenly noticed her small entourage. Andrew Browning walked to Margaret’s left, and two teenage children were close behind. The girl was slight and still wearing short skirts, with the boy a little taller than Margaret and huskily built, his dark hair nearly covered with a hat. None of the trio smiled, and Nathaniel glimpsed Clara White looking from Margaret to Andrew. He didn’t care to be the subject of gossip, whatever the case. He’d get through the next few minutes and head back home.
He extended his hand toward Andrew. “Browning, good to see you again.”
Andrew gripped the other man’s calloused hand, giving it a firm shake. “Same to you. Have you met Miss Garvey?” Andrew turned toward Margaret and smiled.
Nathaniel forced a smile. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure. We knew one another some years ago, when I resided in Bridal Veil.” He extended his hand. “How do you do, Miss Garvey? You’re looking well.”
She allowed him to grip her fingertips for only a second before tucking her hand behind her back. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. I was surprised you returned to our small town, after such a long absence.”
He narrowed his eyes, wondering at the words that seemed to hold a double meaning but were delivered in such a sweet tone. “I was offered a job here.” He turned his attention to the children lagging behind. “Are these friends of yours?”
“They are.” She held out her hand to the slender young girl. “This is Samantha McGavin and her brother, Joel. They’re visiting Bridal Veil for a while and staying with me.” She swung back toward Clara, who’d slipped to the back of the small group, and beckoned her forward. “You’ve met my friend, Clara White?”
Nathaniel nodded and smiled. “I had the pleasure.” He then glanced at the large boy and frowned. “With you? That seems a bit—unconventional.” His gaze traveled from her to Andrew and back. “Or at least—forgive me if I assumed…”
Margaret blushed and shook her head. “I’m single, Mr. Cooper. Mr. Browning and I are friends.”
Something passed across Andrew Browning’s face, then swiftly disappeared, but Nathaniel was sure he’d seen mild disappointment mirrored there for that brief moment.
Margaret slipped her arm through Clara’s again. “Can you join us?”
The young woman shook her head and squeezed Margaret’s hand. “I’m sorry, but not tonight. I was headed over to get a bowl of ice cream for Mama.” She inclined her head toward a wall where a diminutive woman wearing a black dress sat ramrod stiff in a hard-backed chair. “I don’t want her to tire. Maybe I’ll have a chance to visit with you a bit later.”
“I’d like that.” Margaret hugged her friend, then turned back toward Nathaniel. She grasped the dark blue fabric of her skirt and lifted it an inch or two from the floor and gave a slight curtsy. “You’ll have to excuse us, Mr. Cooper. The children are excited about the ice cream and I hate to make them wait.”
“Certainly, have a good evening.” He reached up and stroked his mustache as he watched Margaret walk away, then turned his attention to Andrew Browning’s rigid back and taut shoulders as he walked beside her. He grunted low in his chest. The man didn’t have anything to worry about on his account. Margaret wouldn’t give him the t
ime of day.
Chapter Sixteen
Andrew couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything around him. Nathaniel Cooper and Margaret had known one another years before? What kind of relationship had they enjoyed? He’d seen the interest in the other man’s eyes when he spoke to Margaret.
A large woman settled her bulk onto the bench beside Andrew and placed her bowl down with a thunk. “How do, Mr. Browning?”
Andrew tried not to sigh. Mrs. Hearn was a kind soul, but she loved knowing everyone’s business. “Doing well, and you?”
“Fair to middlin’.” She dipped her spoon into her bowl and took a large bite. “Hope I’m not disturbin’ you folks, but my feet are killin’ me and I need to sit for a spell.” She nodded across the table at Margaret. “Miss Garvey, you’re lookin’ mighty appealin’ this evening.”
Margaret’s eyes lit with pleasure. “Thank you, Mrs. Hearn. Did Arny or your mother come with you?”
“Nope. I left Mama restin’ in bed and Arny sittin’ at home on the front porch with his pipe between his teeth and his feet in a pot of hot water—he’s been tuckered out the past couple of days. Besides, gettin’ Arny someplace with this many people is about as hard as givin’ a bath to a bobcat.” She chuckled and scooped up a large spoon of ice cream. “Told him to go to bed early. Don’t want him comin’ down with the grippe.”
“No ma’am, that wouldn’t be good. I hope he feels better soon.”
Mrs. Hearn straightened her spine and swiveled toward Samantha. “Who’s this pretty little girl, Margaret? She kin of yours? Don’t believe I’ve seen her in town before.”
Samantha shrank in her seat and shot a look at Margaret.
“No, she and her brother, Joel, are friends of mine.” Margaret patted the young girl’s arm, and Samantha scooted over closer to her. “This is Samantha McGavin. They’re staying with me for a while.”
Love Finds You in Bridal Veil, Oregon Page 10