True Heart's Desire

by Caroline Fyffe

  He nodded. “Yep. But I like now better because I can talk—out loud.”

  Henry chuckled, then nodded to Santiago Alvarado and his father, owners of the Spanish Trail Cantina, as they approached the door.

  The strong resemblance between father and son had the attorney wondering what his own son would look like. If that were to ever happen, he’d be a much older father, since he was already forty-five. Still, he was in excellent shape for his years. He didn’t have a foot in the grave just yet.

  He glanced at Johnny. Would a child like an older pa? Nowadays, if you reached fifty-five, you were lucky. But Elizabeth had him feeling young, like a spirited colt. Had him thinking things he shouldn’t. An embarrassing blush crept up his face. How he’d hate for anyone to be able to read his thoughts. He’d been in love once, with the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Her painful rejection was the impetus that had marked his destiny. To outrun his pain, he’d applied for admission to Brown University in Rhode Island. Law school and Eden had followed.

  Henry hoisted Johnny into his arms. “Look! Here come the bride and groom.”

  Johnny bounced with exhilaration, making Henry believe anything was possible. “And the rest of ’em too.” The boy pulled his gaze back to Henry’s face. “Soon we’ll be eatin’!”

  “That’s right, son, soon we will.” Patience, he reminded himself, was a virtue.

  I can’t rush a woman like Elizabeth. I’ll know the right time, and when I ask her to marry me, she’ll say yes.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Indecision warred inside Rhett. When his brother was alive, Shawn had actually mentioned Mademoiselle de Sells. The place had made a reputation with their succulent beef, savory sauces, and delicate pastries, so much so that word had traveled all the way to San Francisco. Amazing that an establishment that tiny was able to survive in such a place as Eden. But Mademoiselle de Sells had. The French restaurant would profit from the same boom of newcomers Rhett was counting on to get his place off the ground.

  Today was the perfect opportunity to try them out. Not that his clientele would be the same as theirs, at least, not all the time, but he still had an obligation to be thoughtful about the new venture if he wanted the place he’d open in Shawn’s memory to be a success. Their mother, rest her soul, had been a scullery maid, and from the moment Shawn was old enough to help in the kitchen, he had loved to cook. He’d badger her to let him try out recipes and then scribble the results of his experiments in a gravy-and-cream-spotted notebook, one that Rhett now kept close. He’d always been eager to eat whatever his little brother made, but Rhett never had the desire to create. That skill he’d have to acquire, and if he was going to compete in this town, it wouldn’t hurt to see how a restaurant as successful as Mademoiselle de Sells pulled it off.

  On the other hand, if he went to the restaurant now, Miss Brinkman—Lavinia—would corner him. That was a given. Then he’d be obliged to clear his conscience. He’d have to make good on his self-imposed promise and tell her he was not who she believed him to be. Was it worth the risk of causing a scene at her sister’s wedding reception? He didn’t think so. Best to steer clear of everyone for now and try the restaurant later.

  With the decision made, and a faithful Dallas by his side, he turned from the alleyway and doubled back through the guests and made for the hotel. He walked briskly, confident in his choice. He had his trunk to collect from the boardwalk, and he needed to see about getting a room. By now, someone should be working, since the wedding was over. Maybe even someone who could rustle him up some grub—for Dallas too. Nothing fancy, just something hot and filling to dispel the aches in their bellies.

  Now that he wasn’t rushing to make the ceremony in time, he took time to examine his new town. Poor Fred’s Saloon was open and doing a fine business. The wedding hadn’t hampered their day. There was a store advertising drugs and other tinctures that doubled as a telegraph office, a stage office, and a mercantile that also displayed a lawyer’s shingle by the side steps leading to the upper floor. He stopped. Read the sign. “Henry Glass, Attorney at Law.” Then he spun around.

  Across from the good-size hotel sat the broken-down building he’d inquired about and would buy if everything went smoothly. Between the peeling paint and the sun-bleached letters, the sign read “Hungry Lizard Café.”

  With a name like that, no wonder the place went out of business.

  “There’s our dream, boy,” he said aloud to Dallas. “Maybe the inside is better.”

  Excitement flushed inside as he took in the structure, followed by a dull pain he was used to experiencing whenever happiness tried to intervene on his guilt. Knowing construction better than cooking, he took in the bones of the dwelling with welcome anticipation of the job to come. Since he’d been old enough to hold a hammer, he’d followed after his father, hungry to learn everything he could about building. Boards crisscrossed the front door, barring entry. The front porch, with its drooping overhang, needed to be pulled off completely and replaced. Shutters dangled at odd angles, and window glass was broken out. But the place had a second story. A space he’d make into a home. The fit couldn’t be better.

  A lot of work.

  Penance.

  The rehabilitation would take a lot of energy and even more money. Looking at the Hungry Lizard now, Rhett wondered if he had enough of either, or if he’d lost his mind. Was such a challenge impossible? Would Shawn really want him to take this on?

  “Hungry Lizard. Closed when I was five.”

  Rhett turned to a strapping young man striding his way.

  Dallas watched his approach and then ducked his head when the kid reached down to pet him.

  “About fifteen years ago?” Rhett asked, doing some fast mental calculations. “Why hasn’t anyone opened the place back up since? Can’t be all that bad.”

  The youth’s amber-brown eyes snapped with humor. “Not fifteen. Nine.” He thrust out his hand. “Cash Dawson. Sheriff’s son. I’m fourteen years old.”

  This kid’s fourteen? They grow ’em big in Eden.

  “Rhett Laughlin. Just in from San Francisco. I’m looking to settle. Start a business.”

  Cash’s eyebrows rose. “The café?”

  “Maybe. I heard about a vacant building on the main street of Eden,” he said, looking Cash in the eye. “Location is everything. Are there other eateries in town?”

  “There’s a few places over in the alley shops, but not set up as restaurants—more like open shells just waiting to be made into something. Of course, there’s Mademoiselle de Sells, our most famous establishment, as well as the hotel café across the street.” He glanced at the Hungry Lizard. “You’re right about the location. Stage stops right here almost every day.”

  “I know. I just got off.”

  Cash chuckled.

  The boy had strong arms and a powerful chest. He wasn’t as tall as Rhett, but a few years would take care of that. His face and skin glowed with the exuberance of youth and the wonder of what was around the next corner, the next day, the next relationship. Looking into his face, his eyes, Rhett couldn’t help but see Shawn. His brother had been all that and more. Until, at only twenty-two, he’d been cut off in his prime.

  Rhett refused to allow his guilt to take over now, or his sorrow. They’d only keep him from moving forward.

  “How come the place is still vacant? Is there something I don’t know?”

  “Ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?”

  Cash shrugged. “Maybe not ghosts, but surely a ghost. Or the talk of one. That’s why no one from around here has reopened the place in years. Ask anyone. They’ll tell ya.”

  Ghosts didn’t frighten Rhett. He’d been living with one for months. Thing was, he didn’t ever want to be free of him.

  My brother.

  I’m sorry.

  “You’re not at the wedding?” Rhett said, surprised. What young kid passes up a free meal? None I’ve ever known. He took another look down the empty street. �
�Seems everyone’s there except for the drunks in the saloon. The town feels empty. Why not you?”

  Cash looked around too. His eyebrow played upward. He pulled a flask out of his pants pocket just far enough for Rhett to see. “I’m going back soon.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Want a swig?”

  Rhett’s mouth watered, but he shook his head, a pain jabbing his heart. “No, thanks. Don’t touch the stuff much anymore . . .”

  “Suit yourself. You won’t say anythin’? My pa doesn’t stand for me drinkin’. Says I’m too young.”

  You are. Rhett shook his head. “Lips are sealed.” He drew his fingers across his mouth. “I’m interested in seeing the inside of the café as soon as I can locate Henry Glass.”

  A group of riders passed in the street, a mite dusty and worn, but they didn’t look like outlaws. And definitely not wedding goers. As a matter of fact, the way their eyes searched the near-deserted town made Rhett take notice. What’re they looking for?

  “He’s at the reception. The mayor, Mr. Dodge, can help you too. Or my pa. What’re ya putting in?”

  “Restaurant.”

  The kid had the audacity to laugh. “Really? You don’t strike me as the type, you know, that likes to spend time in a kitchen.”

  Astute. Didn’t strike Rhett either. “Looks can be deceiving.” Or not.

  Cash withdrew the flask, unscrewed the cap, and took a drink, wiping his mouth with his sleeve when he was finished.

  Rhett blinked and looked away. Not the road the kid should be traveling.

  Cash winked. “I best get back to the reception before I’m missed. I don’t want them to run out of food before I have a chance to fill my belly.” He turned to leave but swiftly turned back. “If you need a hand fixing her up, I’m your man. I work at the livery, but I can usually get time off. Just as long as I get the stalls mucked out every day and do the other chores.”

  “Sorry. I don’t need help.” I refuse to be responsible for anyone else. From now on, it’s just little ol’ me—and Dallas. Shawn paid for my stupidity. I don’t aim to forget that.

  “Just so you know,” Cash went on as if he hadn’t heard, “I have experience working with tools. Just point me in the right direction and I can handle any job.”

  The way he said it made Rhett think every boy in these parts grew up with a hammer in his hands. Not so in San Francisco. Most boys with little education went down to the docks when they were old enough and strong enough. Sometimes opportunities turned up on ships as deckhands or laborers. His ma would never let him sail, but once she’d passed on, his pa had given his blessing, and Rhett had shipped out twice. Once as a deckhand to Italy on a cargo passenger ship and once on a fishing boat to Alaska. The fishing trip had cured his desire to sail ever again. Fishing was cold, dangerous, never-ending drudgery. Pitched overboard by a stormy sea, a distracted sailor could disappear forever. His little brother hadn’t liked him being gone for months at a time either. After that, Rhett had put his wanderlust aside—until now.

  Cash shrugged. “You might change your mind when you see inside. If you do, you know where to find me.” He gave a wide smile. “And by the way, I like your dog.”

  Rhett watched Cash stride away, a cocky tilt to his shoulders. The kid took another quick swig from his flask and was soon gone. That pa would know he’d been drinking the first time Cash opened his mouth. Rhett felt a smirk lighten his mood. He’d been young once, carefree and full of life, but those years felt like a lifetime ago.

  The group of riders that had passed by before came back around and reined up in front of the saloon. The tallest made eye contact and Rhett gave an obligatory nod, not wanting any kind of trouble. He was done with trouble. He’d keep his nose clean and walk a straight line. That’s all a man could do. The other two men dismounted, then lifted their stirrups and loosened their girths, as if they’d been on the trail awhile.

  Intent on minding his own business, he turned away.

  Across the street, at the hotel, he noted his trunk on the boardwalk. Everything I have in the world. He took one step in that direction—

  And caught sight of Miss Lavinia Brinkman, in the lavender gown he’d so recently helped her settle into, marching his way. She was still too far away to see her expression, but he got the distinct impression she was angry. She was flanked by two of her sisters; a woman he’d never seen before; Henry Glass, the attorney; and a tall, serious fella who looked amazingly like Cash.

  The sheriff.

  Several locks of hair that had been up before now bounced loosely around Lavinia’s face. Even with the distance between them, he could hear the tap tap tap of her heels.

  No way she could know the truth, could she? He hadn’t yet told anyone. But there was no doubt under the sun she was coming for him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dr. Laughlin!”

  The note of determination in Lavinia’s voice made Dallas surge to his feet.

  She and her group were still fifteen feet away. With an urge to put off the inevitable a little while longer, Rhett glanced wistfully at the hotel entry but made no attempt to move. He had to face the music sooner or later. And by the look of Lavinia’s expression, the orchestra was just about to start.

  The group stopped in front of him. Bright red flags colored Lavinia’s cheeks. Her chest rose and fell, making the material of her dress swell out with each breath. He remembered how she’d dragged him up the hotel stairs. She was used to getting her way.

  But she didn’t appear to be angry. A warm curiosity shone from eyes he remembered all too well. Her sisters—Katie, he recalled, and Emma—sidled in on one side, the unknown woman on the other. The men stood behind as if keeping watch. A gust of wind caught the edges of Lavinia’s hem, ruffling the garment and pushing the fabric against her slender legs. Another feature he was unlikely to forget.

  “I thought you were coming to the reception, Dr. Laughlin? I’ve told just about everyone how you so gallantly jumped into service as soon as you stepped off the stagecoach. My eye is so much better. I can never thank you enough. But I’m disappointed that you seem inclined to turn down our offer . . .”

  Oh boy.

  She wasn’t here to dress him down, but to bring him back to the party.

  “Everyone is so thrilled to have you here at last. You see, we used to have an unscrupulous doctor. He was a liar, and, not only that, tried to scare me and my sisters out of town by doing horrible things. Even had Katie kidnapped.” She closed her eyes momentarily at the bad memory. And then her gaze strayed to a sheer rock wall that jutted up from the road on the other side of the hotel.

  He winced. I should have told her after the wedding. Now the people of Eden will think I hoodwinked her. What had happened to that lying doctor? Had they run him out of town? Was that about to be his fate?

  He had to handle the situation carefully. With her standing before him wasn’t the best time to think the possibilities through.

  “I’d like to clear something up, Miss Brinkman, if you don’t mind, before—”

  She glanced around and smiled. “There’ll be plenty of time for questions after I make introductions, Dr. Laughlin.”

  One of the fellows that had ridden into town leaned his forearms onto the saloon’s railing, enjoying the show. Annoyed at being watched, Rhett frowned in his direction. “I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say first.” She went to say something else, but he stopped her with his palm. “Please. It’s important.”

  Her smile vanished.

  Annoyance etched the sheriff’s face as well as the other fellow’s.

  “Very well,” she said. “If you must.”

  “I must.” Gathering his courage, he took one last look around the group and then opened his mouth. “Brace yourself for a shock. I’m not the doctor Eden was expecting. I have no idea what happened to him. I didn’t see any signs of a medical person along my route here. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Now shut up and give her a chance to respon
d.

  “So you’ve picked Eden on your own? Well, a little competition can be healthy. We’re growing, and reason says we may need two doctors.”

  She’s a stubborn one. “I’m not the doctor, or even a doctor. I’m not a doctor at all.”

  She took a stumbling step back. Katie, the youngest Brinkman, steadied her sister with a hand to her back, and Emma scowled.

  Lavinia cocked her head, her lips drawn into a frown. “W-what in the world are you saying, Dr. Laugh . . . ?”

  There was little doubt she wished the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Her creamy complexion had gone white and now was turning a deep shade of red. He’d never met anyone before who so openly wore their feelings on their sleeve.

  Henry Glass straightened. He’d held back before, perhaps waiting to be introduced, but now came forward, his face a stony mask of anger. “I think you’d better explain yourself.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m no doctor. Never said I was. In Miss Brinkman’s moment of need, she mistook me for the doctor you were expecting. The one who I assume is scheduled to arrive today; at least, that’s what I can make out from snippets of conversation I’ve heard.”

  Lavinia gasped.

  Her sisters crowded closer. The older woman Rhett didn’t know, but had seen at the wedding, withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her forehead. “But you and Miss Brinkman were the only two people in her room, actually, in the whole hotel,” she said, panic lacing her tone. “I, ah, well . . .”

  “Alone at her bidding, ma’am. Please remember that. She dragged me into her room against my will. What was I supposed to do? Fight off this snippet of a girl who was walking around in her robe with her eyes clenched closed?”

  Lavinia gasped again.

  He slid a look at her, worried how she’d take the next thing he was about to say. With the look on the men’s faces, he had no choice. Action was needed to avert a worse situation. “To tell you the truth, I was a tiny bit fearful she was touched in the head.” Maybe that was going a little too far, but he had wondered at first about her sanity.