At first Kirsty paid it no heed. But then, Kirsty froze when she heard her name being spoken. She turned, listening to the speakers. She didn't recognize the voices. Both sounded young and conspiratorial.
"Apparently he stayed at the MacAnliss homestead earlier this week," one woman's voice murmured. "And he was there for the whole night." There was a long pause, and then the woman repeated in an obviously disapproving tone of voice: "The whole night."
Kirsty heard the other woman gasp. "He didn't!" The woman sighed heavily. "And he slept there?"
"That's what I heard," the first woman said.
"Oh, my. That is quite shocking," the other said. "And she was alone?
"Her cousin was in town the whole night. At Marjorie's place." came the confirmation. "Miss MacAnliss was all alone."
Kirsty's pulse quickened and she felt her cheeks flame with heat. There was a long pause. Kirsty could only imagine the expressions on the faces of the two women. If they knew Kirsty was on the other side of the shelving they might not be so eager to enjoy their gossip.
"But Mr Kincaid has children, doesn't he?"
"He does. He's staying at Miss Hannigan's boardinghouse. For the moment. They say he's come back to live in Inspiration for the good of the children. You know he left under a cloud a few years ago."
"Someone told me he was always making trouble. A real wild one."
Kirsty's jaw tightened at the unfair and inaccurate description of Logan. She controlled the impulse to go racing around the shelves and confront the women.
"We'll see what happens. If you ask me, I think it's quite scandalous. Mr Kincaid and Miss MacAnliss used to be close friends when they were young." A long pause. "I don't think I need say another word."
Kirsty heard one of the women emit a loud, heavy sigh. More disapproval. The women lowered their voices and started to move away, their steps slow and steady on the wooden floorboards.
Kirsty felt her legs weaken. She leaned back against the shelf and curled her fingers around its edge, trying to steady herself. Obviously the women hadn't known Kirsty had been standing only a few feet away. Kirsty's heart was pounding furiously. She tried to drag in a deep breath to steady her nerves but found her chest was tight. She felt light-headed. For a few moments, she listened to the women's footsteps, and their casual conversation about what they should buy. She forced herself to remain standing, out of sight, at the back of the store.
Kirsty was seized by the impulse to go after the two women and demand an explanation. But, if she did that, she knew she'd probably say something she'd regret. Her Scottish temper might get the better of her, she told herself. Gossip, always unwelcome, couldn't be stopped. It was a vice to which too many people succumbed. Even in a town like Inspiration. If she made a scene in the mercantile, that would just make things worse.
The women had been talking about her and Logan. There was no denying that. And they were suggesting something inappropriate might have taken place while Logan had stayed at the homestead. It was that simple.
Kirsty groaned quietly. This was terrible. Once talk like this started, there would be no stopping it. Before she knew it, her reputation would be affected. She'd seen it happen before. Once, she'd heard of a couple who'd gotten stranded alone in an abandoned stagecoach station not far from town. Someone from town had found them and it hadn't taken long for tongues to start wagging. Then, to stop the rumors and restore honor, the man in question had married the woman. After that, the couple had left Inspiration for good, declaring they wanted to make a new start to their married life together.
Kirsty frowned. Would the whole town soon be talking about her and Logan in the same terms? Kirsty tried to swallow but found it impossible. She felt faint. Her mind filled with warring thoughts about Logan and herself. And the children. She struggled to make sense of it all, but had to concede temporary defeat. All she wanted was to get out of the store. But first the women would have to leave.
She stood by the shelf for a short while, holding on tight until, finally, she heard the door open and close. Everything was quiet again. She was sure the two women had left.
Making her way to the counter, she peered at Mr Murchison. He looked oblivious to it all. Clearly, he hadn't heard what had been said. Gathering up the bags containing her purchases, Kirsty headed outside. She glanced up and down the boardwalk for any sign of the two women, but didn't see anyone nearby. Piling her bags on the back of the buckboard, she started to make her way around to the seat and was about to step up when she heard her name being spoken.
"Kirsty."
It was Logan's voice.
CHAPTER TEN
Logan peered at Kirsty's pale features. Something was wrong. Kirsty looked worried.
Logan advanced toward Kirsty. "Do you need some help?"
Kirsty paused by the side of the buckboard. Lifting a hand, she fussed nervously with some loose locks of her hair. "No. I'm fine, Logan," she replied abruptly.
Logan thought Kirsty looked beautiful in her green, lace-edged gown and matching bonnet. More than beautiful, he corrected himself. Stunning. But one thing marred her overall loveliness, Kirsty's usually porcelain-pure cheeks were flushed pink, as if she'd been in a hurry. Or perhaps she'd just received some bad news, he told himself.
"Are you leaving?" Logan asked.
"I just came into town to buy some supplies," she explained.
Logan glanced at the back of the buckboard and saw the bags piled there. "You've been buying plenty of stuff, I see."
"Just a few things we need." Her eyes shifted hesitantly from side to side. Two women walked past Logan on the boardwalk. For a long moment, Kirsty stared, wide-eyed at the two women who both ignored Kirsty. He wondered why she'd react like that to a couple of passersby.
An idea flashed into Logan's mind. "I was on my way to the bank. Would you like to accompany me?"
"The bank?" Kirsty exclaimed sharply.
"I thought maybe you and I could talk a little before you head back home. I can tell what I've been up to since Monday."
Kirsty grasped the side of the buckboard seat. "I'm afraid I can't, Logan. Thank you for the offer, but I really need to be getting home." Kirsty lifted a booted foot onto the side of the buckboard and prepared to lift herself up onto the seat.
"The children will be starting school next Monday," he blurted out, desperate to get her to delay her departure.
Kirsty paused and gazed at him. "They will? That's wonderful news. Miss Chalmers has quite a reputation." Suddenly, Kirsty's face flushed bright red. "I mean. She's an excellent teacher. Or so I've heard."
Logan frowned, puzzling why Kirsty's face had turned as red as a freshly picked apple at the mention of reputation. "Is everything okay, Kirsty?" Logan asked moving closer to her.
She peered at him. Now that he was close enough to touch her, Logan saw the troubled expression in Kirsty's eyes. "Of course everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?" she replied, her voice quivering slightly with emotion.
He furrowed his brows and gazed steadily at Kirsty. "I've known you long enough to tell when something's bothering you. There's no problems at the homestead, is there?"
Kirsty dragged in a deep breath and shook her head. "Really, Logan. You needn't concern yourself about me."
Logan took one step closer to Kirsty. He spoke in a quiet voice. "But I do concern myself about you, Kirsty. We've been friends a long time. It's only natural I'd be concerned about you."
Her brows rose. "Friends?"
Logan drew in a deep breath, sensing his pulse begin to race now that he was so close to Kirsty. He nodded his head. "I like to think we can still look out for each other." He quirked a brow. "Don't you agree?" he murmured.
Kirsty's mouth opened, almost as if she'd been shocked by the directness of his words. She smiled warmly, masking her reaction with visible effort. "I do," she said and nodded. Her eyes shifted nervously again. She hoisted herself up onto the buckboard seat and grabbed the reins. "I really have to go, L
ogan."
Logan felt a heaviness sinking in his chest. Sighing, he admitted defeat, stepping back from the buckboard. "Sure, Kirsty," he said gruffly.
He stepped back up onto the boardwalk and watched as Kirsty maneuvered the buckboard to face southward. She smiled tentatively at Logan. "It's been nice seeing you," she declared. In spite of the fact that she was leaving, Logan told himself that she had sounded like she had meant that.
Logan nodded wordlessly. He touched the front brim of his gray Stetson. "Some other time."
Kirsty nodded, gave him one last smile and then flicked the reins. The buckboard raced off down Main Street. Logan watched the buckboard for a few moments, then turned, shaking his head. Some things never changed, he told himself. Kirsty MacAnliss could still drive him crazy.
Logan headed northward along the boardwalk. Touching the thick wad jammed into the inside pocket of his jacket, he reminded himself he still had to pay a visit to the bank. As he walked, he tried to figure out what had just happened. Kirsty had been hiding something from him. He could feel it in his bones. He knew her well enough to know that all wasn't well with Kirsty. She was worried. More than that. She looked petrified. As if she'd had a scare. But she'd done her best to keep whatever it was to herself.
Maybe she didn't trust him, after all. Perhaps, once again, he was fooling himself. Just like he'd done so many times before he'd left Inspiration. He and Kirsty MacAnliss weren't close. If she was so determined to hold back from telling him things, well maybe he would be better keeping his distance from her.
Arriving at the bank, he pushed open the glass-paneled door and stepped inside. Logan ran his gaze around the interior. In the corner was a half-opened door, revealing an office. Logan saw a silver-haired man sitting behind a desk in that room. A wooden counter stretched half the length of the main room. A metal-barred grill atop the counter separated the front of the room from its rear. Behind it stood an eager-faced, blonde-haired young man, peering expectantly at Logan through an opening.
The young man smiled at Logan. "Good morning, sir."
Logan strode up to the counter. Reaching into his jacket, he drew out a thickly stuffed envelope. "I'd like to open an account," he declared.
Logan heard chair legs scraping against wooden floorboards. The man from the office emerged and made his way with brisk steps behind the counter, taking up position alongside the teller. "You'd like to open a new account, sir?" the man asked. Logan assumed this must be the manager.
When Logan nodded, the man extended his hand through the gap in the grill. Logan took the hand and shook it firmly. Holding up the envelope, he released the man's hand and said: "I aim to buy a house in town. And this is how I'll be paying for it."
The man's brows rose. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Mr Leroy Baum. And you are?"
"Logan Kincaid."
Baum's brows furrowed. "Kincaid. We used to have a Kincaid family in town."
"That would be mine," Logan confirmed.
Baum's expression brightened. "Indeed. Then I take it you are returning to town, Mr Kincaid."
Logan nodded. "Settling down. I have two children, so I'll be looking to buy a good-sized house. Either that, or a plot of land so I can build a place of my own. I'll need all the space I can get." He laughed quietly. "The children like to run around a bit, you understand."
Baum's eyes widened. "You're certainly a man who knows what he wants," Baum observed. "Is there a Mrs Kincaid?"
Logan drew in a sharp breath. Even though he'd prepared himself for such a question, actually hearing someone ask it was a whole different thing. "I've adopted the children," he explained. "They were my brother's children. Sadly, he passed away recently."
Baum's features softened. "I am sorry to hear that." Baum seemed uneasy about the personal turn in the conversation. He gestured toward the office. "Please. Follow me to the office. We can finalize all the details and open your account."
Logan followed Baum into the office and flopped down on the leather-covered seat and watched Baum ease down onto his high-backed chair. For the next fifteen minutes, Logan watched as Baum filled in forms in response to Logan's answer to the bank manager's questions. Eventually, it came time to count out the money. After that was done, Baum deposited it in the safe. Logan watched carefully as Baum closed and locked the heavy-looking safe door. At least now, he wouldn't have to worry about being robbed of his money, Logan told himself. Although, out on the frontier, banks did get robbed, Logan was confident that Inspiration was safer than most places.
Logan declined the celebratory drink offered by Baum. Drinking alcohol had been something Logan's father had been dead-set against. Logan had followed his father's lead. Even when he'd been working the ranches and homesteads, Logan had always stayed well away from men who drank heavily. He figured it didn't make for a good life.
Logan followed Baum out to the bank's main office. A customer was closing the door as Logan made his way to the counter.
"Mrs Neely wants an appointment with you, sir," the young man behind the counter said.
"I'll fix that, Lucas," Baum said.
"Can I leave early today, sir?" the man asked.
Baum peered sternly at the man. "Don't tell me you have another meeting with that young lady. What's her name?"
"Abby MacAnliss, sir," the man replied.
Logan peered at the man behind the counter. "You mean the cousin of Kirsty who owns the homestead south of town?"
Lucas squinted at Logan. "Why, yes. Do you know Abby and Kirsty?"
Logan tipped up the front brim if his hat. "I sure do. I was out there the other day on my way into town. Kirsty and I go way back. We went to school together."
"You did?" Lucas asked. He walked out from behind the counter and extended his hand to Logan. "Lucas Bradford is the name," he announced.
Logan shook Lucas's hand. The man was tall, but not wide-shouldered. He looked like he was used to spending time at a desk rather than on the back of a horse. But there was a kindly expression in the man's eyes which Logan found strangely endearing. "Are you and Abby good friends?" Logan asked.
Lucas glanced at Baum and hesitated. "I guess you could say that." Lucas appeared suddenly nervous about something. Logan wondered what was causing the man to shift on his heels. Then Lucas smiled at Logan. "The truth is I'm hoping to make Abby my wife." Lucas stated the words with obvious pride.
Logan schooled his features, trying not to betray his surprise. "That's good news," Logan just about managed to say. "You say you're hoping. Haven't you proposed yet?"
Lucas shook his head. "I'll be doing that as soon as I can work up the courage."
"Tush, Lucas," Baum exclaimed good-naturedly. "If you reckon Miss MacAnliss is willing to accept your offer of matrimony, then there's no sense holding back. Just ask her." Baum grinned at Logan. "What do you think, Mr Kincaid. They do say love conquers all."
"It sure does," Logan replied. He patted Lucas on the arm. "I think Mr Baum is right. There's no sense in waiting. Strike while the iron's hot."
Lucas seemed delighted by the advice from both men. Straightening his shoulders, he drew in a deep breath. "I think you're both right." Now he really seemed to be warming to the idea. All his previous reservations had vanished. Lucas glanced from Logan to Baum. "You men just might have given me the push I needed."
"Glad to be of help," Logan said. Then he quickly bid the men farewell and made his way out to the boardwalk. Knowing he had to get back to the boardinghouse, Logan crossed Main Street and headed south. As he walked, he reflected on what he'd learned back at the bank.
If Abby married Lucas, that meant only one thing. Kirsty would have to look after the homestead on her own. Alone. Undoubtedly, Abby would move into town to live with Lucas. Logan couldn't see Lucas moving out to the MacAnliss homestead. Logan wondered if Kirsty knew about Abby's imminent proposal of marriage. And, if Abby did accept, it would all probably happen quickly. Logan knew that marriages out in Montana usually took place qui
ckly. It wasn't like out east where courtships and engagements could last for months. Out here, folks married without waiting too long.
Kirsty faced the prospect of spending the rest of her days running the homestead all on her own. Thinking about that made Logan frown. He asked himself if she wanted that kind of life for herself. Logan didn't doubt that Kirsty was strong enough to do the work needed to keep the homestead going. But was she also willing to live a solitary life out there? Logan didn't have an answer to that question.
Logan turned into the street and saw the Hannigan boardinghouse in the distance. As he made his way up the street, he realized that Kirsty's earlier distress might have something to do with what he'd learned at the bank. If so, he asked himself what he could do to help her. Frustratingly, he couldn't immediately think of anything.
But, one thing was for sure. Kirsty was still his friend. And now she was facing a crisis. Logan resolved to think of something he could do to help her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sun was beginning to set behind the forest when Abby returned to the homestead from her visit into town. Abby had gone into town in the mid-afternoon. She'd been gone a long time. Kirsty had started to worry. But now that Abby was back, Kirsty could relax.
Kirsty saw the buckboard barreling quickly down the trail. The buckboard rocked from side to side, but Kirsty knew Abby could keep it on the trail. Abby was leaning forward and holding on tightly to the reins. As she watched her cousin returning, Kirsty was glad that Abby had made it back before sundown.
Kirsty stood up from the bench on the porch, rested her hands against her hips, and ran her gaze across the vivid pink colors spreading, feather-like across the vast, dark-blue sky. She sighed contentedly at the vision of beauty which God had laid out on this evening. She felt delight sweep through her as she gazed upon the glorious vista. These were her favorite moments of the day. A chance to reflect on what had happened. To savor where the Lord had placed her. The express gratitude to Him in quiet prayer. It was her habit to sit out on the porch every evening and feel the simple, plain joy of being with her Lord. No matter how tired she felt at the end of a day, taking the time to be in His presence always lifted her spirits. This evening had been no exception.
The Cowboy’s Frontier Courtship Page 6