by Jodi Thomas
“While you’re gone I’ll go next door and introduce myself to the maid. Maybe I can learn something. You’d be surprised what women in the same trade tell each other.”
Rose laughed. “Good luck. I’ve never been able to get more than a few words out of the woman.”
As she stood, Rose noticed Hallie wrapped the remaining sandwiches in a napkin. “If you don’t mind taking Stitch these extras. I’d hate to see them go to waste.”
Pulling on her coat, Rose took the napkin. She’d just learned something new about Hallie Smith. No matter what else the woman was, she was kind.
One step out the door, Rose collided with a tall figure blocking her path. He stumbled backward, surprised by her attack, and she lost her footing trying to slow. They both seemed to be dancing an odd scarecrow kind of movement a moment before both tumbled to within inches of the wide stairway.
She yelped in fear as the stranger stood, pulling her up with him. The napkin of sandwiches went flying across the steps.
“Pardon me,” she said as she looked up into cold gray eyes. “I wasn’t watching where . . .” She recognized the man.
“You again,” he said without loosening his grip. “Are you aware, miss, that you might be a danger both to yourself and others?”
“You don’t look too damaged.” Rose resented the fact that this stranger, who’d helped her yesterday when she’d arrived, might think she was normally clumsy. Though what he thought was of little matter to her, she reminded herself. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”
“I might ask you the same question. Though it’s obvious you’re stealing food.”
He picked up one of the little snacks and, to her shock, ate it. “Not bad, but if you can afford a suite, surely you can pay for your food.”
“I did pay for it and stop eating my tea sandwiches. What are you doing hanging around outside my door? I should call the management.”
“Not a bad idea, miss. Maybe one of us should switch rooms.” He held up his key and pointed to the door next to hers. “Since I was the one attacked, I’ll ask to be reassigned.”
“Good.”
She made it three steps before someone below shouted, “Rose!”
A vision in furs and silk rushed up the stairs. “Oh, Rose, I’m so glad you’re here. I just couldn’t wait any longer to see you even though my future husband seems to have a hundred things for me to do before the wedding.”
Rose heard something in her friend’s voice that didn’t ring true. A note of panic or fear, or maybe just pre-wedding nerves.
With sudden emotion, Victoria whispered, “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been unable to come.”
Rose hugged Victoria Chamberlain. She tried to smile, but the feeling that something was off center was still there. Tori’s smile was too bright, her hug too tight. As always she was dressed to perfection, but for a woman declaring her joy over her dearest friend’s appearance, she didn’t even meet Rose’s gaze.
The possibility that she was the only one who didn’t know that she was in a play haunted Rose. Something was wrong with Victoria.
Rose almost laughed. According to her family, something was always wrong with Victoria. But there were shadows beneath Tori’s pale blue eyes and she clung too tightly to Rose’s arm.
She reminded Rose of a woman near panic.
Victoria continued her act. “I see you’ve met Killian O’Toole, our honorable circuit judge for this district. August’s friend couldn’t make it back from Washington in time for the wedding and he talked Killian into standing up with him as best man. Isn’t that grand?”
Rose looked at the tall man dressed in black. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find him mixed up in this mess. The gray-eyed man bothered her. He seemed almost stoop-shouldered from the bundle of secrets he carried. Killian O’Toole appeared to be as tall as her driver Stitch, but his frame was far slimmer. She doubted Killian could protect himself much less anyone else.
When she noticed his confusion, she couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t another bit player cast in this production. The poor man must have hit his head in the fall because he just stared at Victoria as if all the rest of the world had faded to black. “I agreed to stand with August Myers before I knew who he planned to marry. I had no idea it was you, Miss Chamberlain.”
His confession was whispered. Victoria didn’t seem to hear it, but Rose had. She couldn’t read the man, but she suspected that if he’d known who the bride was he might not have been a part of the wedding party.
Victoria grabbed his arm and pressed against him. “I wanted to surprise you.” She laughed as she moved him along like some giant puppet. “Killian, you must join us for lunch. You’re going to love my very dearest friend, Rose McMurray.”
Rose stared straight at the silent man, but her words were for Victoria. “He’s already eaten.”
“Nonsense, he has to join us. My father is getting us a table and August promised to stop by if he can. He’s covering a very important trial so he won’t be able to stay long before his train leaves for Dallas. He says the news doesn’t stop for weddings, so he must work.”
Without another word they moved down the stairs and into the dining room. Rose knew it wouldn’t be worth arguing over. Victoria always got her way. Even if the thin man had wanted to run, he wouldn’t have had a chance with Tori clinging to his arm in what looked like a death grip, and Rose felt just as trapped.
As they walked to the table, Rose heard Tori whisper to Killian, “Give my father time. He never likes anyone at first, but I know eventually he’ll warm up to you.”
Then, as if tossing out an old toy, Tori shoved Killian toward Rose and ran to hug her father.
Killian stood staring at Victoria. It was Rose’s turn to help him along. She locked arms with him and tugged him forward. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
Killian didn’t take his eyes off Victoria. “Yes, she is. Even more beautiful than I remember.” He finally seemed to notice Rose and added, “You both are. She told me about you writing her from your ranch. I think you mean a great deal to her.”
Rose couldn’t lie. “In truth, I doubt I’m her best friend. We’ve only seen each other once since our school days.”
He turned his attention to her. “I think, Miss McMurray, that you are her only friend. I’ve never heard her mention another.”
“You know her well?”
“I met her a few years ago when I was called to Austin. I found her crying on a hidden bench in the back of an old cemetery. I thought she was beautiful then, but here, now, is something different. It’s like she’s an ivory angel and not real flesh and blood.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve seen her like this once before. Most women shine when they’ve been polished, but Tori—she sparkles. It’s like she’s playing the role of queen and we’re all peasants.”
There it was again, Rose thought, a feeling that all was not as it seemed. Part of her wanted to yell for everyone to stop pretending they were living some kind of adventure. Rose didn’t like adventure. She liked order.
“You know her fiancé?”
“I’ve meet him a few times when I visited Austin. Apparently I’m the only person he knows in this area who’s willing to fill in for the best man. I was shocked when he asked me. He said all of his friends couldn’t spare the time off and his bride had insisted the wedding be in Fort Worth.”
“Why?”
Killian shrugged. “I have no idea. In fact I didn’t even know she was the bride August wrote about. I think it was pure luck that a big trial is going on in Dallas—otherwise he would have had to travel from Austin.”
Rose glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall of the dining room. A mixture of rain and snow was splattering against the glass. “Probably she wanted it here because of the weather.”
He looked from the windows to her. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
As she and Killian neared the table, he
seemed to straighten back into the cold, polite stranger she’d met before.
While Victoria listened to her father, Killian O’Toole leaned down close to Rose’s ear. “Tell me, Miss McMurray, does the major bite? I swear every time he looks in my direction I hear him growl.”
She fought down a giggle. “Yes, I think he does.” Deciding she might like this best man, she added, “Can we start over? I’m Rose, and don’t count on me to know much about anyone here.”
He took her hand. “I’m Killian, and if possible, I know even less about what’s going on.” He lifted his wine. “I think I’ll give up trying to figure out anything and just drink.”
Rose wished she’d had time to ask more, but suddenly Major Chamberlain drew all her attention. His time in the military must have taught him to bully and bluff his way through life as though everyone were under his command. Rose had never been sure she even liked the man. Talking to him had always seemed more like being interrogated than conversation. He professed his beliefs as if he had his name on a book in the Bible.
“How is your family, Rose?” He snapped the question to her.
“Fine.” She didn’t want to say more, but he pushed.
“Your father? He still running that huge ranch?”
“Yes.”
“I hear about your uncle now and then. The famous Texas Ranger who went into law. Very unusual for a half-breed.”
Rose wasn’t sure that was a question so she said nothing, but a smile tickled at the corner of her lip. If the McMurrays heard the major call Travis a half-breed, they’d probably take turns beating him to death. The three brothers considered themselves double blessed by being both Irish and Apache.
The major continued, “Times are good finally. The McMurrays must be making the money. Of course, with all the kids running around, it probably costs a fortune just to outfit the clan, or should I say tribe.”
He waited, as if expecting her to give him an accounting. In truth, he barely knew her family. Her papa met him once when he’d picked up Emily and her from school at the same time the major collected his daughter. Teagan McMurray had said very little to him. Papa Teagan seldom talked to people he liked and was usually silent to those he didn’t.
Killian lifted his glass, drawing the major’s attention. “I’ve heard of your family, miss. A fine family of heroes and statesmen.”
The major frowned, but Rose smiled at the thin man. He’d willingly saved her by drawing fire.
Victoria quickly pulled her father back her direction and rattled all the way through lunch, first with plans of the wedding and then all about how dear Rose was to her.
Rose tried to smile. She even felt a little guilty about thinking so rarely of a woman who apparently claimed she loved her like a sister. She thought of all the crises she and Emily had helped Victoria through, but she couldn’t think of one time Tori had saved her, or even tried to cheer her up. Yet she couldn’t deny Tori had a kind of magic surrounding her. She lived life in her own kind of world and looked at things differently than anyone Rose had ever known.
Halfway through dinner, the major was called away on business, leaving Rose alone with Killian and Tori. Before Rose could think of anything to say, Victoria touched her arm. “I know you have a fitting so I’ll meet you upstairs in a few minutes.”
She stood like a queen and walked out of the dining room behind her father.
Killian had stood when Victoria rose, but she hadn’t even looked his direction. Rose watched as he almost ran toward the garden door, straight out into the rain.
Left sitting alone at the table filled with half-eaten lunch plates and half-empty wineglasses, Rose decided it was going to be a long week until the wedding.
Chapter 7
Sunday
Second Avenue
Abe noticed Killian sitting out front of his mercantile as he restocked his shelves on the only day the store was closed. Killian never came for a visit in the afternoon. The weather had turned colder, but Abe doubted either of them would mind as long as they had a cup of coffee in their hands. So he poured two mugs, put on his coat, and stepped outside.
“Afternoon, O’Toole.” Abe handed his friend a cup of coffee, then nodded toward the empty space next to him on the bench. “Afternoon, Shawn. Nice day for a visit.”
Killian growled. “Don’t talk to either of us. One of us is an idiot and the other is dumb enough to hang around and be his brother.”
Abe knew better than to laugh. “Long morning, I’m guessing. You start drinking early for some reason?” Killian liked to drink; it seemed his balm for all the loneliness in his life, but he usually didn’t start until dark. “You want to talk about it?”
“No. Just knowing I’m a fool is fact enough.” He laced his coffee with whiskey and offered Abe the bottle. “And I didn’t start early. I started last night and haven’t quit.”
Abe shook his head as he fought down a smile. “Good. Since you don’t want to discuss whatever’s got your goat, how about we talk about me? I took your brother’s advice.”
“What advice?” Killian straightened slightly out of his self-pity.
“I did just like he said. I grabbed a woman and kissed her.”
“What’d she do?”
“She kissed me back.”
Killian sobered a bit and stared at Abe. “The schoolteacher really did that?”
“I didn’t say it was the schoolteacher.”
“You didn’t have to.” Killian shook his head. “I’ve watched you moon over her for years. You really got the nerve to kiss her? You really did it? How? When?”
“Yesterday and I told her not to come back in the storage room unless she wanted more.” Abe grinned. “She came back.”
They leaned back and drank their coffee, both amazed at the possibility of what might happen next. Finally, Abe broke the silence. “You think I should ask her to marry me? Or maybe I should be asking your dead brother since he steered me right the last time.”
“No,” Killian said after a long pause in thought. “You’ll frighten her. If she lived through the shock of you grabbing her and kissing her—twice—there’s no telling how much more her heart can take.”
“So you think I should go slow?”
“Hell, no. Abe, if you go any slower, you’ll probably be using the same flowers for your wedding and your funeral.”
Abe frowned. “Then what do I do?”
“Shawn says you should kiss her every time she comes back, only be more demanding every time. Show her who’s boss.”
“I don’t think so. First, I already know who’s boss—she is. We only kiss when she comes back. I don’t have any say over when. And second, I think your brother may be a little out of his depth. How many women did he know before the war?”
“None that he ever mentioned, but remember he was right about grabbing her and just kissing her.”
Abe still didn’t look convinced. “Well, ask him how long I should wait to ask her to marry me.”
Killian was silent for a while, then answered, “Before any kid who’d call you Pa comes along.” He leaned his head back bumping it hard on the window frame behind the bench. “But you got to give me some time before you ask her. I don’t think I could take being best man twice in one year. This first one may kill me.”
“What first one?” Abe frowned. “And what makes you think I was going to ask you to stand up with me?”
Killian rubbed his head. Finally, he answered, “You’d ask me because I’m your only friend.”
Abe agreed, never one to argue the obvious.
“As for being best man, I said I’d help out a guy from Austin I barely know. He’s a half-crazy newspaperman who’s always shouting wild ideas about relocating the South down in South America and how the Confederacy may rise again any day. After a few drinks I only listened to every tenth word or so. To tell the truth, I didn’t think he’d even remembered my name until he asked me a week ago to stand up with him. This morning I found out that
he’s marrying a woman whose hand I was once brave enough to ask for. And, before you ask, I was stone cold sober at the time.”
“She turned you down?”
“No, her father did.” He swore. “Apparently they both said yes to this nut with a pen in his hand. We were all supposed to meet here in Fort Worth yesterday, but the guy took a turn at Dallas so he could cover some big trial going on. So I’m stuck in that Grand Hotel across the alley with the bridesmaid and the bride. To top it all off, Shawn hasn’t shown up for hours. He thinks I should try talking to the bride, maybe make one last plea for my case. Or maybe I should run. Her father didn’t even meet me, but he sent a man to threaten me if I ever tried to see her again. I’m too much a coward to do either. If I talk to her, she’ll just tell me why this newspaperman is a better choice than me, and if I run I won’t ever see her again. I’m in hell.”
Abe shook his head. “You’re right, Killian. You are a fool and you shouldn’t talk about your problems. We should have stayed on mine. To tell the truth, I don’t blame your dead brother for not speaking to you. I swear, Killian, your problem makes my brain hurt.”
Abe decided not to bother the ghost with any questions either. Who knows, he might be as drunk as his brother.
There seemed no solution to O’Toole’s mess, and all Abe wanted to do was kiss the teacher again.
Smiling to himself, Abe let his thoughts wander down that road. He’d liked the way she’d felt against him. He wouldn’t mind doing that again as long as she was willing.
“Well?” Killian broke into Abe’s daydreams. “Any advice for me other than stay drunk until the wedding is over?”
Abe gave it a shot. “Yeah. Grab her and kiss her. What have you got to lose?”
Both men laughed, knowing that the world was no longer ruled with logic.
They finished off the coffee and talked about how cold it was getting. Abe never asked details about the bride-to-be and Killian never offered any. The shopkeeper might have his nightmares to live with, but he had a feeling Killian had his own share of demons to fight.