Parker nodded. “Far as I know.”
Ike’s smile faded as he registered their expressions. “Oh. See, I saw Roy headed toward Ed’s and I wondered…” He looked at the washtub in the middle of the kitchen, as if it might hold some answers, then hazarded a glance up at Ellie.
Her face turned pink; she wanted to run and hide. “I finished the wash, but I’m afraid I didn’t have time to empty the tub….”
For some reason, having left the dirty water there made her feel all the more miserable. As if she would always be leaving messes too big for herself to clean up.
Ike jumped in before she could dissolve into a puddle of self-pity. “Don’t bother your head about it, Ellie,” he said kindly. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, Ike. I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry for!”
Which only drove home the fact that he’d missed out on the last hour’s drama. Ike picked up the tub as if it weighed nothing at all and hauled it outside.
When he was gone, Parker cleared his throat and reached hesitantly into his pockets. “Roy gave me something for you….”
For a moment, Ellie’s heart picked up. Had Roy written her a note? Even if it was a letter berating her again, she still wouldn’t have minded. Perversely, she savored the idea of hearing more from him, of finding out that it wasn’t so easy for him to dismiss her from his heart.
She ran over to Parker like a kid hoping for Christmas candy—only when she held out her hand, he placed twenty dollars in it.
She looked at the bills and felt as though the blood were draining out of her, leaving ice water in her veins.
Money? For some reason, it was the last thing she had expected from him!
“He must be desperate for me to leave.”
Of course he was; while she was in his house he wouldn’t live there. She nodded, seeing how selfish she was to think that she could even stay there another day. And she didn’t want to. It’s just everything had happened so quickly, she hadn’t thought about the future….
“I’ll go tonight,” she promised.
Parker shook his head furiously. “No, Ellie. Wait.”
“Wait for what? For morning?”
“No, I meant…”
She smiled, understanding. He thought she could stay indefinitely, hoping Roy would come around. “You know as well as I that he won’t change his mind.”
Ike came in through the back door again, more quietly this time. Ellie looked up at him and forced a smile.
“Could you take me into town, Ike?”
“Now?”
Parker interceded. “Not now, Ellie—wait till morning, at least.”
The two men stared at her. If she insisted, they would do as she asked. But Ike looked exhausted after his day—none of them had even had supper, she remembered—and Parker just didn’t appear inclined to help her leave the farm at all.
She sighed. “All right. In the morning then.”
Taking his cue from Parker, Ike even looked reluctant to do that. But he finally nodded. “All right, Ellie. You just say when.”
“Thank you, Ike.”
She smiled, feeling as if she would burst into tears if she stayed in the kitchen with these two kind men for another minute. She slapped Roy’s twenty dollars on the table and left them quickly.
In her wake, Ike and Parker fixed and ate their late meal in mournful silence.
A night spent tossing and turning—in Roy’s bed, of all places—didn’t make Ellie feel any better, but it firmed up her resolve. She didn’t have enough money to get back to New York, much less start a life there. So she would just have to swallow the last shreds of her pride, accept Roy’s money, and stay in Paradise. Seeing Roy again from time to time would just be the price she would pay for what she’d done.
She still burned with humiliation. For the second time in as many months, she was being bundled up and thrown away like old fish bones in newspaper, but this time she had only herself to blame. How long would it take her to learn that she couldn’t dream that her life would suddenly transform into a magnificent fairy-tale ending? For her baby’s sake, if not her own, she needed to start being more realistic.
And to women like her, that meant getting a job.
She loaded up her bags and went out into the parlor to face Parker and Ike. She’d turned down Ike’s offer of breakfast already. She didn’t think she would ever eat again.
In the parlor, Ike was waiting for her, his hat in his hand.
She breathed a sigh of relief that things were moving quickly. She looked around for Parker. She couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. “Where’s Parker?”
Ike’s face was almost beet-red. “He’s, um, out.”
She glanced around, confused. “Is he in the barn?”
“He went out for a walk because I told him I wanted to speak to you,” Ike blurted out. “Privatelike.”
Ellie shifted uncomfortably, uncertain where this was all leading. “What’s wrong, Ike?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong, ma’am—I mean miss.”
So…he’d heard the story.
Ike hesitated, then beat his hat against his leg. After a moment of fidgeting and twisting, he glanced up at her shyly. “What I mean to say is, I was wondering if you would marry me.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped.
“If you would do me the honor,” Ike added in a rush.
For a moment, she was purely speechless.
Now that the question was out in the open, Ike appeared a little panicky. “Don’t worry, Ellie, I’m not fool enough to think you might love me or anything like that. Heck, that’d be akin to a doe fallin’ for a leathery old steer.”
“Oh, Ike, it wouldn’t be like that at all!”
He craned his head. “But you see, I like you real well. I guess you’re the finest lady I’ve ever known since my mama, and it don’t matter to me none where you came from or what you did. You might not be a lady, but you always treated me like a prince. I know you didn’t mean no harm.”
A lump built in her throat.
Ike shrugged. “I’m just a crusty old farmhand, Ellie, and I’m sure I always would be a bachelor, exceptin’ I can’t think of drivin’ you into Paradise and maybe you catching a train and then my not knowin’ what’ll become of you and that little baby.”
Last night she had cried until her head ached. Cried until she thought she’d dried up every drop of moisture in her. But now, amazingly, she felt new tears sting her eyes.
As the tears streamed down her cheeks, Ike looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I didn’t intend to set you off.”
She shook her head. “These aren’t tears of unhappiness, or self-pity. Just gratefulness.” She took his hands. “You are a prince, Ike. That’s the nicest gesture anyone’s ever made me.”
He cocked his head doubtfully. “Then your answer’s yes?”
She dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “No, Ike. My answer’s no.”
At the look of relief that came over his face, she had to laugh. “And don’t worry about my getting on a train and not knowing what’s become of me. I’m staying in Paradise, so you’ll know.”
A wide grin broke out across his face. “That’s wonderful, Ellie.”
Seeing how relieved he was when she turned him down only made her all the more grateful to him for offering her marriage in the first place.
“I’m glad you’re stayin’ in Paradise, Ellie. This town could use a few of you.”
She chuckled. “Really? I’m not certain it’s ready for just one of me.” She let go of his hands and leaned back on her heels. “But whether it’s ready or not, are you ready to drive me there? I swear that’s all I really need.”
He nodded and put his hat on. “Sure enough. I’ll go get the horses hitched.”
After he was gone, Ellie took a last turn about the house, checking that she hadn’t left anything, fighting the melancholy that filled her as she looked at the familiar surroundings tha
t she would in all likelihood never see again. Polly, the kitten, was batting a toy she’d made for him—an old sock stuffed with straw—around the rug. She remembered Roy presenting her with the kitten, the joy she’d felt, and now felt a stab of pain at having to leave him behind.
But the kitty might not be welcome where she was going. She would just have to ask Ike to make sure Polly was given his corn mush every day, and a few leftover tidbits from the table at night.
When she finally pushed open the front door, she was surprised to find she was stepping out into a day that reminded her of springtime. Sitting on the old weathered rocker on the porch, apparently enjoying the break in the weather, was Parker.
He smiled at her. “I gather from Ike that you’re not in a marrying mood today.”
She shook her head. “Poor Ike. He was ready to give up all his freedom just for me.”
“It’s not such a bad trade-off.”
“I couldn’t do that to him.”
His brow cocked humorously. “Well then…would you consider doing it to me?”
She was stunned. Everybody, it seemed, was willing to marry her except the man she truly wanted! “Oh, Parker. You know it would never work. I’m in love with Roy and you…well, I have a feeling that there’s a certain someone in Paradise who you’d rather spend the rest of your life with.”
“Actually, I was just thinking we could get engaged. That would do just as well.”
She let out a gasp of surprise, then laughed. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Well…for one thing, people aren’t above wanting something they can’t have. Roy included.”
“Oh, no.” She flapped her arms in front of her to let him know she wanted no part of trying to lure Roy back into her life. “I’ve caused enough trouble around here, Parker. My days of deception are over.”
“It wouldn’t be a real deception.”
Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “And here you were lecturing me just last night on how you couldn’t allow your brother to be misled!”
He leaned back and grinned. “It’s not just my brother I’m trying to fool.”
Clara Trilby came to mind again, and she suddenly understood. “You’d like to use me as your bait to catch a sweetheart?”
Parker grinned. “You make it sound awfully cold and calculating.”
“It is!”
He laughed. “Maybe. But you know the saying, to catch a mouse you have to build a better mousetrap.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Parker.” And she genuinely was. She owed Parker so much, she would have done anything for him…almost. But this she couldn’t do—she was going to be on the up-and-up from now on. No doing anything that Roy could interpret as duplicitous.
Not that she was trying to impress Roy—an impossible task in any case. She just didn’t want to sink any more in his esteem.
“You won’t help me?”
“I’m through pretending. I just came crashing down from seventh heaven like Icarus with his wax wings, remember? From now on, my feet are going to be treading on solid ground.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
She smiled. “But of course, you’re free to visit me as much as you like. I can’t be responsible for how other people interpret your visits.”
His brows raised with interest.
“You would be in full view of everyone at the mercantile,” she promised him.
“You mean you’re going to try to get a job there?”
She shook her head. “Next door. You might have to ask your mother for permission to call on me.”
The news brought Parker to his feet. “That’s wonderful.”
“It will be if your mother will give me a job. But I think she will.” She opened her purse to check on the money she’d taken from the table last night after everyone had gone to sleep. “You see, I’ve decided to put Roy’s money to good use and offer myself to Isabel as an apprentice. Do you think he’ll be pleased?”
Parker grinned. “I think he’ll be livid.”
“Good.”
She straightened her shoulders, silently gratified by the prospect of still being able to get under Roy McMillan’s skin.
Chapter Fourteen
God, it felt good to be back at the Lalapalooza!
Roy gazed around the old barroom with its polished oak bar, the long fancy mirror and girly picture above it—holdovers from the good old frontier days, when the world was populated mostly with homesteaders and soldiers, with no women to offend. He swivelled on his stool and took in the old familiar tables, where a few men were starting up card games and talking excitedly about the capture of the Dalton Gang a few weeks back in Coffeyville, Kansas, not leaving out gruesome details.
The outlaw talk warmed his spirits. That’s what men should be concerned with—poker and shootouts and crop yields. Not women. The only female in the place was Flouncy, a regular here, who was flirting with Jim Campbell. Jim seemed more intent on cards and vigilante massacres at the moment than buying Flouncy a drink, and Roy could understand the sentiment. He was so grateful to be back in a world of rotgut liquor and gambling and the real spirit of male camaraderie, his eyes felt almost misty.
Or maybe he was tearing up because he wasn’t used to the tobacco smoke….
He tossed down a glass of whiskey and smiled to himself. One week without that woman—he didn’t dare think her name—and he was fine. Just fine. He was back at home, back in his comfortable room in the house, back to his old routines. Ike was driving him crazy, Parker was moaning again—Roy couldn’t have been happier.
Except, of course, if that woman had done the decent thing and cleared out of Paradise.
But of course, being the pain-in-the-neck creature that she was, she hadn’t. Instead, she’d chosen the place where, next to his own house, he would have wanted her least. His mother’s!
It probably never occurred to her to consider how he might feel knowing that she was right there in Paradise all the time, and that he couldn’t even go to the mercantile anymore without having to worry about bumping into her, which he was determined not to do if he could help it. But a woman who would go to the lengths that she did to trick a man would never think about going to the same lengths to make amends.
It wasn’t as if he’d been asking for much.
He just wanted her gone.
And while he was at it, he wanted her out of his memory. He wondered if drink could remedy that problem.
The bartender wiped up a spill nearby. “Another whiskey, Carl,” Roy said.
Carl, a redhead who was so tall and skinny he practically had to double over to pour a drink, nodded. “Makin’ up for lost time, Roy? We haven’t seen you for a while.”
They’d missed him! “Good to be back, Carl. Just leave the bottle.”
He poured himself a big one and felt it burn its way right past the place that had been hurting. His idiotic heart.
The drink warmed and relaxed him, so much so that he fought against a wave of sleepiness. He remembered that he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in over a week; even in his old soft bed, the mattress he’d been missing all those weeks, he’d been tossing and turning, restless.
Some nights as he lay awake, he wondered whether Ellie was blinking up at a dark ceiling, too, remembering their kisses and murmured words of love. Whether she could remember playing chase through the bare orchard, and laughing themselves silly when he’d caught her. He hadn’t ever laughed like that before, certainly not with a woman.
He sucked his glass dry and hung his head.
Parker had warned him that it would be awful not knowing what happened to Ellie when she left Paradise…but then she hadn’t left. And it was still awful.
Now he had a pain in his chest and a thorn in his side. His own mother had taken her in, so it felt as if the two of them had ganged up on him. If Ellie had left, maybe he would have been able to forget her. At least he wouldn’t have to tiptoe around his own town, worried about turnin
g the next corner. He wouldn’t have to fret about the talk that would erupt when Ellie had her baby. He wouldn’t have to see that baby, either, while inevitably he would if she stayed here.
His glass slopped over, making a small crash as it crashed against oak. Roy jolted back to awareness, shrugging sheepishly at Carl as he uprighted the tumbler.
“You better take it easy,” the barkeep advised.
Roy forced a smile. “Slippery fingers—I guess that’s my trouble.”
Someone snickered behind him. “Or slippery women.”
Stiffening, Roy swivelled around on his stool and found himself squinting at Jim Campbell. He was seated with a few other top hands who’d come to town to start their Saturday night a little early. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jim grinned. “I guess you’d know.”
Roy jutted out his chin stubbornly. “No, I don’t.”
A friend of Jim’s piped up, “Heck, everybody in town’s talking about that woman your mama’s taken in. A hen can’t hide her eggs forever, you know.”
To have Ellie be the subject of barroom gossip got his blood fired up. The legs of his stool scraped angrily against the rough floor as he got to his feet. “So? Haven’t you ever heard of a woman having a baby before? Nothing wrong in that.”
“Nope,” Jim agreed. “But it’s not the baby everyone’s talkin’ about so much as the lack of a husband.”
“She’s a widow.”
That assertion was met by a hearty round of guffaws.
“C’mon, Roy. She’s no more a widow than she’s the rich lady everybody was sayin’ she was a couple of weeks ago. A rich lady who begged for jobs at the hotel?”
Roy’s face turned red. She’d tried to get a job at the hotel? Had the whole world known more about Ellie than he had?
Someone else chimed in, “Heck, I’d bet my next payday that she’s no more an heiress than Flouncy here.”
Flouncy tossed her dyed red hair back and struck a snooty pose, bringing hoots and jeers from the men around her.
Roy’s blood boiled.
“C’mon, boys,” the saloon girl said with a wink, “won’t somebody spare a drink for a poor widder woman?”
Liz Ireland Page 19