A snag he hadn’t anticipated. It wouldn’t be prudent for the women to return home tipsy, with the scent of whiskey on their breaths—not after he’d given his word. His plans for a packed house on Saturday night might be ruined.
“What’re we gonna do, Hunter?” Kendall’s voice shook with fear.
“One thing we’re not going to do is anger all the men of Logan Meadows. I’ll take care of this. Show me to the woman, Philomena.”
Hunter hunkered down to speak quietly to the portly woman. “My waitress said you asked for something a bit stronger than coffee. I’m sorry, but today we’re not serving spirits.”
Her mouth pulled down. “No? Why not? Isn’t this a saloon?” her voice rang out. “My man drinks whiskey here all the time. I want equal rights!” She punctuated the end of her sentence with a stomp of her sturdy black boot on the wooden floor.
A murmur went around the room and Hunter knew if he didn’t do something quickly they’d have a mutiny on their hands. He just didn’t know what he should do.
“Hush up!” Violet called. “Don’t make trouble fer my grandson!”
Philomena appeared at his back with the cookie tray.
He stood and looked around. “Didn’t think you’d want something other than coffee or tea. We didn’t order extra whiskey for today, so we don’t have enough to serve.” Sort of true. And your men would have my hide if I did. “Let’s see how the afternoon goes, and we’ll know better for the next show. I’m sorry—but that’s the best I can do.”
He snatched the tray from Philomena and held it out. “Cookie?”
The hefty woman muttered angrily, then patted her moist forehead with a handkerchief she’d withdrawn from her bag. “I can’t believe this!” she went on, a scowl plastered on her face. “Women always get the short end of the stick.”
Tabitha stood, directing a look his way. “May I please speak, Mr. Wade?”
Relieved, Hunter nodded.
“Ladies, let’s not ruin this fine chance Mr. Wade and Mr. Martin have presented us. I, for one, do not care to imbibe in anything stronger than a cup of coffee with my cookie. Your husbands and brothers are just waiting for any excuse to nix future shows. Let’s not give them reason to do so. After today’s performance, I’m sure Mr. Wade and Mr. Martin will appraise the situation and in the future be better equipped to serve us. As long as there is a next time. It all depends on us.”
The crowd of women sat quietly, listening to Tabitha, their faces thoughtful. Some nodded, while others remained skeptical.
“I wonder who they will bring in next. A poet? Or perhaps a small play? Think about it. There are unlimited possibilities, if we don’t ruin them before they get started.”
“Why don’t you bring a poet or play into your shop, Tabitha?” a woman asked from the last row of chairs. “Like you do for the reading?”
“For one, I don’t have this kind of space.” She waved her arm around. “And for another, I can’t afford such an endeavor. You don’t think a professional singer like Miss Bastianelli travels around for free, do you? I’m sure Mr. Wade and Mr. Martin are paying her a pretty penny to perform in the Bright Nugget. And giving us a showing for free is very generous! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m grateful they have. If I had any menfolk in my family, I’d make sure they made the performance on Saturday night.”
She looked at him and smiled, making a flash of gratitude laced with more than abundant desire snake down his spine.
“Oh, you would, would you?” an unfamiliar voice rang out from the doorway.
Hunter turned to see a tall woman who resembled Tabitha herself. Roberta Brown stood at her side.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
At first, Tabitha thought she was seeing things. It had been just over a year since she’d seen her mother, and having her suddenly appear in Logan Meadows, in the Bright Nugget no less, was just too much to believe. Tabitha’s joy over her mother’s sudden appearance was squelched the moment their gazes collided.
Her mother took a step forward, followed by Aunt Roberta. “Tabitha!” she barked out. “What on earth are you doing? Are you now a spokesperson for this . . . this . . . vile den of sin?”
All the women who’d been listening to Tabitha speak the moment before, looked from her mother to her, their heads moving in unison, waiting to see how she would respond.
“No, Mother, I’m not a spokesperson for the Bright Nugget. I just want everyone to realize what we stand to lose if they make a fuss after our first step of progress as women!”
“You call this progress?” Aunt Roberta bit out. She looked through the women until she spotted her daughter. “Hannah, you come along with Tabitha right this moment. No self-respecting woman would be caught dead in here. We’re leaving at once!”
A grumble went around the room.
Hannah bolted to her feet with an expression Tabitha knew all too well. Her cousin was ready to do battle. Quickly, Tabitha raised her hand, squelching Hannah’s snappy comeback. This was her war to fight.
“Mother, Aunt Roberta, where we go to watch a singer perform does not determine what kind of women we are.” She was amazed at how steady her words sounded despite the torturous quakes that rocked her insides. Growing up, she’d never been very good at going up against her mother. Seemed things hadn’t changed a bit. “If you’d like to come take a seat, I believe the show is ready to begin.”
“I do not wish to take a seat! You are leaving with me this instant and returning to New York where your father and I can keep an eye on you! Giving you your freedom has only brought you trouble—and now shame.”
Tabitha almost laughed. This crazy conversation might be funny if it weren’t playing out in front of the majority of the women who lived in this town. Embarrassment that Hunter had to witness such a scene was the most disturbing of all. Since her talk with Dichelle on Wednesday, he’d pervaded her thoughts. She felt more than saw him move to her side.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Mother. I’m my own woman. You can’t make me do something against my will.”
A soft round of applause broke out, bringing a fresh surge of humiliation to Tabitha and a frown to her mother’s lips.
Her mother, used to winning all her arguments with her husband, and a majority with Tabitha, straightened to her full height, her back straight, her chin jutted. Once she set her mind on something, there was no changing it. “I most certainly can! You’re my daughter. I gave you life. Mr. Brackstead has yet to marry. He’s forgiven you for running off, and will go ahead and marry you even though you embarrassed him fully three years ago with your outright refusal. He’s a good match for you, Tabitha! Established and strong. You’re twenty-nine! Hardly the girl you once were, so stop this foolishness this instant!” She sighed heavily, her hands gripped at her sides. “I’ve purchased your train ticket and Frank has agreed to handle your shop until somebody buys it. You’re a spinster, honey. I didn’t intend to be mean, but I didn’t expect to find you speaking on the behalf of a tavern.” She shook her head as if in shame. “Your options have evaporated away just like your youth that you so foolishly wasted in libraries, bookstores, and reading in your room!”
Tabitha couldn’t believe this was happening. Mortification paralyzed her tongue. She’d never live this down. She could hear Hunter beside her, his breathing shivering with anger.
Her mother took a step forward, her hand outstretched. “I love you, Tabitha. That’s the only reason why I even considered making the grueling trip here. I only want what’s best. Be assured, I will not leave Logan Meadows without you by my side.”
How could anyone be so heartless! Her mother, besmirching her in front of everyone? She’d done just fine since moving here. Her mother was delusional to think otherwise. Tabitha felt her back straighten and could hardly hear for the blood pounding in her ears.
“You’re wrong! I’ve made a good life here in Logan Meadows. I’ll never return to New York. I’ve built my shop.
I’ve handled my own finances. And if you must know, I’m not a spinster anymore! Or soon not to be; I’m-I’m—engaged!”
“What?” Aunt Roberta cried.
“Yes, Mr. Wade and I are getting married. We were saving the surprise until after the show today, but now it’s out.”
At her side, Hunter sputtered out a surprised cough. It felt as if the floor had given way and she was tumbling uncontrollably into a black bottomless pit she’d never crawl out of. Why had her mother wrecked everything? She couldn’t look at Hunter, or anyone else for that matter.
“No!” her mother barked. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m totally serious, Mother! You couldn’t have planned this visit any better. You’ll be here for the wedding—tomorrow.”
Her mother inhaled sharply and Aunt Roberta had to grasp her arm to keep her from sinking to the floor.
Tabitha glanced at Hunter and was taken aback by the anger in his eyes. He was furious with her for trapping him, but his noble nature wouldn’t let him expose her falsehood. For that, she was grateful.
More than a few surprised gasps were followed by soft, embarrassed murmurs. Then whispers behind hands above wide, shocked eyes. The crowd looked from him to her and then her mother and aunt still standing at the door. If the town was looking for fodder, she’d just filled their troughs for years to come.
Mrs. Hollyhock clapped her hands together in delight. At least someone is happy.
Hunter remained quiet, strong, and resolute at her side, and that alone gave her courage. The depth of what he was doing for her by going along with her outrageous falsehood, even for a few minutes until she could figure out how to fix the mess she’d just made, was astounding. He’d delivered babies, helped widows, saved Violet from a stampeding Clementine and her from an angry skunk. Who knew how many countless other times he’d rushed in to the rescue. His character was to stand up for the downtrodden—and that was exactly how she felt after her mother’s brazen attack. Of course, really going through with it wasn’t an option. After tonight, when things calmed down, she’d tell her mother the truth and send her home. Then Tabitha would live the rest of her days here in semi-shame for making up such an outrageous lie.
Hunter laid his arm across her shoulders. “I guess the secret is out, Tabby,” he said with a crooked smile, his voice deeper than she’d ever heard it. When she looked up, he looped a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “Personally, I’m glad. I’ve had a difficult time keeping the good news quiet.”
Her mother’s face went deadly white. “Tell me you’re not really meant to marry this Western ruffian. This saloon owner . . . This, this . . . You’ve been raised properly. Think about the consequences. You have a perfectly good suitor waiting for your return . . .” Her voice trailed away.
Tabitha felt a moment of pity for her mother. Her ashen face stark against the dark wooden wall of the saloon brought a round of disappointment that Tabitha couldn’t be what her mother wanted.
She turned to Hunter, a tangle of emotions inside. “You best go on with the show, Hunter,” she said softly, only for his ears. “If I don’t leave with her, she won’t go either. All the women will be disappointed.”
He searched her eyes. He didn’t look angry, he looked concerned. “You sure?”
She nodded and turned, but he caught her arm. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yes, we’ll talk later,” she replied, knowing at that time he’d decline, and she’d have to admit her wrongdoing. At least he’d saved her the embarrassment of doing so in front of everyone.
Kendall loudly cleared his throat.
Before she knew what he was up to, Hunter kissed her cheek. “Okay, I’ll see you directly after the show. In the bookstore.”
Hunter looked over and smiled at her mother, a look of devilment behind his grin. “You sure you’d not like to hear Miss Bastianelli, Mother? She puts on a good show.”
Her mother’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water, no sound coming forth. Tabitha realized she’d never before had a handsome man doing battle for her. Just like a novel—a love story, that always ended well. Too bad reality would turn out much differently.
CHAPTER FIFTY
For Hunter, the women’s show went by in the blink of an eye. The hefty woman made no more trouble about the whiskey, and the talk quieted down as soon as Tabitha left with her mother and aunt.
As always, Dichelle gave a wonderful performance that kept the ladies spellbound for almost forty minutes. Her clear voice resonated around the room as Farley accompanied her on the piano. The height of the ceiling acted to amplify her voice. Along with her singing, the women seemed fascinated with her red velvet gown, covered in rhinestones and pearls. Hunter had seen this one before, as well as most of her wardrobe. He’d helped her buy a few gewgaws in Soda Springs. He felt protective over her, and would just as soon see her fall in love with a good man and stop her traveling. But to her, that was a death sentence.
Dichelle gave one more deep bow, turned, and elegantly descended the stairs to the delight of the spectators. Seemed she’d won the crowd over as Hunter knew she would.
“That was beautiful!” Jessie gushed, her face still alight in wonder. “I’ve never heard such a beautiful voice. You’re brilliant. I wish Sarah had been here to hear you. She loves to sing. You would be an inspiration to her.”
“Yes,” Brenna agreed. “As well as my girls.”
“They’s too young to come into a saloon,” Mrs. Hollyhock scolded. “But that don’t mean they can’t hear Miss Dichelle sing them a little song someplace else.” She gazed expectantly at the singer.
“Sì! That’s true,” Dichelle replied. “I’d be more than happy to meet them sometime and sing a few songs.”
Hunter strode over to Philomena and Kendall. “You two hang around and smile until the women leave, I have to get over to the bookstore. Be sure to escort Dichelle to the hotel through the back door as soon as possible—before you let any men inside. There’re some out front on the boardwalk waiting to get in. We want to keep an illusion of mystery about our secret weapon. It’ll bring in more tickets. Don’t forget to retrieve the whiskey bottles out of the storeroom before you get busy.”
“Any more orders, sir?” Kendall asked. “Ain’t you coming back?”
“Just as soon as I can. But I don’t know what I’ll be walking into at Storybook Lodge.”
He went up a couple of steps to get everyone’s attention. “My partner and I would like to thank everyone for being brave enough to try something different. It’s been our pleasure having you. And now, I’m off . . .”
As he stepped away, someone called, “Go get her, Mr. Wade! Don’t let her mother run you off.”
“That’s my adopted grandson,” he heard Violet reply with pride as he went out the door. “When he sees something he wants, nothing stands in his way. No, sir. He knows his own mind.”
Laughter ripped around. “I’ll see what I can do, ladies,” he called back, feeling the heat in his face. “I won’t let you down.”
With only the sheriff’s office between the two buildings, Hunter was halfway to the bookstore when Albert stepped out of his office and stopped him. “So, how did it go?” he asked, a little of the sourness that had been in his voice when he’d first learned of the show still there.
The last thing Hunter wanted to do at this moment was stop and speak with Albert. “Everyone had a good time.” He glanced at the bookstore, then back at Albert. “You coming tomorrow night?”
“Thought I would, you know, keep an eye out so no one gets too drunk.”
“Good, I’ll see you then.”
He tried to move away but Albert caught his arm. “What’s the rush?”
He looked down at Albert’s hand on his arm. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Business with Tabitha. In the bookshop. I need to go.”
“Yeah, seems like big things are brewing over there. Saw her and Roberta, as well as Frank and some unkn
own woman going—”
“Her mother,” Hunter supplied.
Albert’s brows shot up, but he held his tongue. His hand fell away.
In three seconds, Hunter had crossed the alley between the buildings and pulled open the door. He stopped the second he saw Tabitha, her face red with anger, Frank Lloyd, a distressed expression on his face, and Mrs. Canterbury as well as Mrs. Brown, jabbering like two hungry crows fighting over corn.
“There he is!” Tabitha’s mother bit out. “How dare he walk in here as if he owns the place already. They aren’t married yet!”
Frank huffed out an exasperated breath. “It’s a store, Marigold, anyone can walk in.”
Hunter went to Tabitha’s side and took her cold hand into his own. “So what’s all this fuss about?” he said looking between the two women. “A twenty-nine-year-old woman is capable of making her own decisions.” He glanced at Tabitha, then leveled his gaze on the two sisters. “Especially this one. What’s the problem?” When neither woman answered, he looked to the banker. “Frank? You didn’t offer to sell Tabitha’s business out from under her, did you? Because if you did, I have a bone to pick with you. I don’t like the sound of that at all.” He tried to keep his tone pleasant, but that wasn’t happening today. Her mother was trying to railroad her home against her will. The Tabitha he knew would not stand for such treatment.
“Of course not,” Frank said. “I’m here to help. I’ll assist my niece any way I can.”
Hannah stepped through the door with Thom at her side. She gave Tabitha a meaningful look and then widened her eyes at her aunt. “Aunt Marigold,” she said stiffly. After the scene the woman had made in the saloon, her tone was none too friendly. “You should have stayed for the show. It was wonderful. You would have enjoyed yourself. You too, Mother.”
Roberta huffed and rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness I decided a letter wasn’t fast enough and sent a telegram begging Marigold to catch the next train out. All this talk of a wedding has my poor sister almost in vapors. And I don’t blame her in the least. I’m beside myself as well. I’m just wondering if Tabitha and Mr. Wade aren’t bluffing.”
Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) Page 25