“What’s more, I always dreamed of marrying someone like him and living out West.”
Emily noted the faraway glimmer in Iris’s eyes. “Rein in that imagination, cowgirl. Jake Edgerton is too much man for you.”
“Why do you say that?” Iris pouted. “Am I really as bony as fine china, like Granny keeps saying?”
“No, no . . . ” Emily didn’t mean it that way. It was just that Jake’s kind of woman would be one who . . . who . . . could get barreled into the street during a barroom brawl and live to tell about it?
Perish the thought! True, she’d fancied herself in love with him once when she was tomboy, a mere child really. But nothing had endeared him to her since. Besides, much of her memories of him were tainted by what happened after he left.
“I really can’t help it, Em. I wish I had curves like you do.”
“Now, Iris, you know as well as I do that ladies are created in all different shapes and sizes. I take after my father’s side of the family, and the Sundberg women tend to fill out their bodices and have an easy time of childbirth.” Emily felt a blush coming on. “At least that’s what Besta told me.” Emily had no firsthand experience there, of course. “Likewise, there’s no point in me trying to fashion my body after yours. You’re a good two inches taller, and you’re slender, like a graceful willow.”
“A graceful willow.” A pleased expression drifted over Iris’s face.. “Yes, that’s me.”
Emily smiled, glad to have appeased her dear friend. A moment later she stifled a moan as she forced her hurting body to crawl beneath the bedcovers. Next she reached for the book on the nightstand. “Sometimes I envy you too, Iris, especially when we go dress shopping. You have a much easier time of it.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Iris smoothed her white nightgown over her knees.
“Back to Jake . . . ” Emily wanted to squelch her friend’s interest in him. Iris would only get her heart shattered like Mr. Fransmuller’s plate window. “He’s one step up from an outlaw.”
“He’s a deputy marshal and that’s the opposite of an outlaw.”
“It takes one to catch one.” Emily opened her book. “Just remember that!”
CHAPTER 4
EMILY WILLED HER hand to bring the porcelain cup to her lips despite the pain the simple action incurred. Every muscle and sinew felt the effects of the hit she took yesterday. Both knees were black and blue, her elbows scraped, and the bruise on her face had spread from her cheekbone to her jaw and resembled a permanent dirt mark. Thanks a lot, Jake!
Carol Schmidt sent her a curious glance and reached for a second helping of fried potatoes. “Are you feeling all right today, Emily?”
“Feeling fine.”
Carol’s brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you get that bruise on your face?” She smoothed the napkin across her ample lap.
“Oh . . . a nasty spill.” Emily sent a glance in Iris’s direction.
“That’s right. Granny and I were there when it happened.”
“Hmm . . . ” Carol chewed, her pudgy cheeks bulging, then swallowed. The woman enjoyed a good piece of gossip as much as her second, sometimes third helpings at mealtime.
But Emily refused to say more to her and the other four women seated around the table. Iris had been sworn to secrecy. However, as they read from the Friday morning edition of the newspaper, they, along with everyone in Manitowoc, were sure to find out the most embarrassing details.
Martha Martin began reading the society column aloud. It detailed tonight’s Memorial Day Dance. Emily shifted in her chair, and her stiff muscles protested the movement.
“Let’s all go together.” Sarah Jenkins sat up a bit straighter and smiled at her idea.
“Fine by me.” Iris gave a careless shrug. “Although I’m meeting someone special there. He asked me to save him a dance.”
“Who?” The ladies spoke in unison and all leaned forward over their plates.
“He’s just visiting our fair town because his grandfather died. I thought his coming to the dance tonight might cheer him up.”
“Who? Who?”
Emily thought the women sounded like overeager hoot owls, for heaven’s sake!
“His name is Jake Edgerton. He’s a deputy US marshal from Montana.”
“Goodness! I just read about him here in the newspaper!” Martha flipped back a page.
Emily’s hand began to tremble, but she managed to set down her teacup before it spilled. In the newspaper! That means Poppa would learn about the incident before she could tell him.
“I read the article earlier,” Martha said. “Seems the good deputy apprehended a fugitive wanted in four counties.”
“That’s right.” A look of pride enhanced Iris’s pointed features.
Emily couldn’t believe her friend had succumbed so quickly. Jake obviously had a certain effect on females.
Martha began reading the article, and Emily stared at the linen napkin in her lap. Her stomach cramped with each word. “‘Deputy Edgerton recognized the fugitive and followed him into Mr. Helmut Fransmuller’s restaurant and saloon. He engaged the wanted man in a game of poker and caught him cheating. A fight ensued, during which Mr. Fransmuller’s front window was broken, but the deputy got his man. Sheriff Smith handcuffed the fugitive and escorted him to jail.’” Martha looked up at Iris. “And you say this same deputy asked you to save him a dance?”
“Yes.” Iris blushed. “We met yesterday, shortly after that incident you just read about occurred. I’d just come out of—”
“Excuse me, Iris.” Emily’s gaze slid to Martha. “Is that all the newspaper had to say?”
“Yes, would you care to read it for yourself?”
“No, thank you. I just wondered.” Relief poured over Emily. Her name hadn’t been mentioned. Andy would never know. Poppa wouldn’t find out!
“Anyway,” Iris continued, “I was properly introduced to Deputy Edgerton, and we had a conversation.” Her eyelashes fluttered, magnified by her thick lenses. “When I mentioned the Memorial Day Dance, he said I must save a dance for him.”
Awed sighs were followed by soft giggles.
Emily stared at Iris, and when she caught her friend’s eye, she gave a subtle shake of her head. Iris ignored the implied warning. Apparently she’d taken nothing Emily said last night to heart.
Emily excused herself from the table and stood, determining not to moan when her body only grudgingly cooperated. “I need to go to school today and finish cleaning out my classroom for the summer.” But first she’d indulge in a hot bath and soak her sore muscles. With a parting smile at the ladies, she added, “Have yourselves a good day.”
They didn’t seem to hear but began peppering Iris with questions about her deputy.
Turning toward the stairwell, Emily silently wished the best for her dear friend—but an odd little niggle inside seemed to warn that the worst was yet to come.
Clanging church bells signaled the noon hour as Jake walked out of the hotel. He pushed his hat onto his head, squinted into the sunshine—and then proceeded to crash into a pedestrian. A female. He grabbed her arm so she wouldn’t lose her balance.
“’Scuse me, Miss.” All at once recognition set in. He smiled. “Why, Miss Sundberg.” He politely dipped the rim of his hat. “We meet again.”
She pushed his arm away and glanced around quickly as if making sure no one had seen their collision. A quick assessment of his own told Jake no one took a particular notice of it.
“Will you please stop running in to me?” She adjusted the fashionable hat that cantilevered over her face.
“It was an accident, Em. I didn’t set out to run you over or embarrass you.”
“Then what are you doing, lurking around the hotel?”
“Not lurking. I checked in yesterday afternoon.” Jake saw the questions in her eyes. “It’s a long story.”
“Then I have no time to listen. Sorry.” She jerked her chin and tugged on the hem of her blouse, str
aightening it. Jake noticed how nicely it complemented her shapely figure. She caught his appreciative stare and glowered at him.
Jake cleared his throat. “Where you off to on this beautiful day?”
“I have some work to do at school. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Mind if I walk along?”
“Yes!”
“Good thing it’s a free country.” He grinned. She obviously didn’t want his company; however, Jake had something to say to her. “Please, Em? I need to talk with you.”
She sighed. “Oh, I suppose.”
He gave a grateful dip of his head.
They walked a few paces during which Jake heard the distant but incessant hammering from the shipyards. Wagons and buggies rumbled by on the paved street. Didn’t have any of those in Fallon, Montana. Only dirt roads and cow trails there. He had to admit it was nice not to eat plumes of dust as you made your way down the walk. Then two men rode by on bicycles. Now there was a sight!
They reached the corner. Emily’s aunt’s shop was across the street. Jake watched several ladies point and gaze into the large front window.
“Your aunt does a good business, eh?”
Emily glanced at the shop and then at him. “Yes, Tante Agnes does quite well. Bestamor owned Sundbergs’ Creations up until about five years ago.”
“Oh, and speaking of . . . I saw your grandma last night. Still quite spry for a woman her age.”
Emily stopped, her foot poised over the edge of the walk. “You saw Bestamor?”
“That’s right. I stopped in to tell your father about what happened yesterday. He insisted that I come to dinner, which worked out for me. I wanted to pick up a few more things at Granddad’s place.”
“Wait. What did you just say?” Emily gave him such a fierce look that Jake considered taking a step backward. “You told Poppa?”
Jake fought off a grin. He’d known hardened criminals who couldn’t make him pause like Emily Sundberg did just now.
“How could you?”
“Calm down, Em. I merely wanted him to hear it from me.” He suddenly glimpsed the bruise on her cheek and cringed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I’m truly sorry.”
She tipped her head, curiosity replacing anger. “What was Poppa’s reaction?”
Jake felt somewhat insulted that his apology went ignored. “He was concerned, of course, but he and your mother have agreed to respect your independence.”
“Really?” Emily’s features softened, and her eyes turned as blue as his view of Lake Michigan over her right shoulder. “Poppa said that?”
“Well, not in so many words, but that’s what I got out of it.”
“My goodness!” A smile slowly worked its way up her pretty pink lips. “My parents finally respect me as a grown woman.”
Jake noted that she sure was a lot prettier now, wearing that friendly smile, than moments before. Over the years he’d made countless foes, but for some odd reason he didn’t want Emily Sundberg to be one of them.
He offered his arm as they crossed the thoroughfare, and Emily surprised him by threading her hand around his elbow.
“What a relief . . . and I suppose I should thank you for breaking the news to Poppa so I didn’t have to tell him about it—or worse, have him hear it from a stranger.”
“My thoughts exactly—and you’re welcome.”
She sent a glance skyward. “For your information, I had planned to go over to the shipping office this afternoon and tell Poppa. He’s usually in town on Fridays.”
As they strolled down the next block, Jake politely nodded to a cluster of men talking outside a store. He overheard one fellow grumble something about the price of hog feed.
“I was equally as relieved to see that my name wasn’t mentioned in the newspaper.”
Jake smiled at Em’s sweet babbling.
“But you’re certainly a hero.”
“Hardly. Just doing my job.”
Emily didn’t reply, and they walked along in silence for half a block. He wondered what went on inside her pretty head—and that surprised him. Normally he didn’t care what a woman thought unless she happened to be his older sister or the female had something to do with a man he was tracking. But Emily was different, and he realized right then that she’d always occupied a special place in his heart.
She stopped short, and Jake did also. After giving her a curious look, he followed her gaze across the next thoroughfare to a group of four men, sitting on a weathered bench in a corner park. Behind them children played ball and chased each other while women sat idly by, talking or knitting.
One man in particular caught his attention. “Well, what do you know? There’s Andy Anderson. I’d recognize him anywhere!”
Jake slowly brought his gaze to Emily and realized this was no coincidence. He chuckled. “You come here often?”
“Almost every day.”
The fact she admitted it surprised Jake. “So how far out of the way do you come?”
“A few blocks while school was in session. I’d take a walk instead of eating lunch. Today I went out of my way because . . . ”
“Because of the dance tonight.” Jake released a long, slow whistle.
Sounded like Emily had serious feelings for Andy. He recalled what Iris Hopper told him—about how Andy didn’t pay Emily any special attention. Unbelievable. Jake removed his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. A man should feel lucky to win Emily Sundberg’s affection.
Repositioning his Stetson, Jake watched her, waiting for Emily to make the next move. But she stood stock-still.
“The sky ain’t gonna get much bluer today, Em.”
She sent him an annoyed glance.
He grinned. “And I don’t expect Andy gets all afternoon to eat lunch.”
She said nothing—did nothing.
“Em?”
“The men with whom Andy’s sitting today . . . well, I don’t appreciate their vulgarity.”
“Ah . . . ”
“Andy typically spends his lunch break with David Hansen, and then I don’t mind approaching him to say hello.”
“I see.” Jake’s heart bent for her. “How ’bout we approach those fellas together? That way I’ll get to say hello to Andy too. I told you yesterday that I hoped to see him again. My experience tells me those men will mind their manners if I accompany you.”
“You think so?” Emily gazed up at him, her eyes round and hopeful.
“Positive.” Jake clenched his fist, thinking he’d knock someone’s front teeth out if he treated her with anything less than respect.
They waited until two wagons noisily rattled past before stepping off the walk. Together they strode across the street, and Jake sized up the men and the situation. He doubted Emily was in any danger, not with additional women and children nearby. He did, however, catch the way they leered at Emily, elbowing each other, snickering. But when they caught sight of Jake and figured out he wasn’t merely passing by, they put on their best faces.
“Andy Anderson?”
He sat in the middle of his comrades. “That’s me.” Slowly he got to his feet and raised his chin. “Who are you?”
Jake held out his right hand. “Jake Edgerton.”
Andy’s thick brows dipped in a frown as he repeated the name. Seconds later his expression brightened. “Well, I’ll be! Jake!” Andy laughed and pumped his hand. “Good to see you again.” He turned to his friends. “Hey, boys, this here’s a friend of mine, Jake Edgerton.”
They muttered greetings, and Jake gave each one a polite nod, keenly aware that Andy hadn’t even glanced in Em’s direction yet.
“So how’ve you been, Jake? What are you doing in town? How long are you staying?”
“I’ve been getting along all right.” He glanced at his boots, feeling rueful. “I’m in Manitowoc for my granddad’s funeral.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. You’ve got my sympathies.”
“Appreciate ’em. I’ll head back home to Mo
ntana on the eight-fifteen train Wednesday morning.” He slid his gaze to Emily, wondering why he disliked the idea of leaving her. His feelings made no logical sense. He barely knew Em, and she obviously cared for someone else. What’s more, the jury was out on whether she even liked him.
Still . . .
“So you’ll be around for tonight’s Memorial Day Dance, eh?”
“Yeah, I’ll probably show up for a while since Granddad was a military veteran.”
“Great. Maybe we’ll find some time to catch up.”
“Maybe.” Jake nodded toward Emily. “Say, um, Andy, aren’t you going to say hello to Emily Sundberg?” He leaned forward. “She looks mighty fetching today, wouldn’t you say?”
Emily coyly lowered her head. A pretty pink blush stained her cheeks.
“Oh, right. Hi-ya, Em.”
“Hi, Andy.” She took two steps forward. “I wondered if—”
“Listen, Jake . . . ” Andy turned his shoulder away from Emily in obvious disinterest. “Me and the other fellas got some girls coming tonight from Two Rivers. Real girls, if you know what I mean.”
Jake understood.
“I can arrange to get one for you too.”
“No, thanks.” Jake watched Emily walk away with a defeated sag to her shoulders.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. I can get my own girl.” Jake started off after Emily.
“All right. See you tonight,” Andy called. “The first round of beer is on me.”
His friends cheered in the background.
Same old Andy. Always the big spender.
Jake easily caught up to Emily, slowed his stride, and fell into step beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She clipped each word.
Jake decided to let her be until they neared a two-story, cream-colored brick structure. The name, embossed in concrete above the main entrance, read Maple Street School.
“What do you see in him anyway, Em?”
Threads of Love Page 4