by Kit Morgan
“My parents … they’re leaving tomorrow.”
Mrs. Stone approached the counter. “And you’re upset. Oh, I’m sure they’ll visit again soon.”
“Katie, this is Ephraim’s mother,” Beryl said.
Katie forced a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Did they say when they’d be coming back for a visit?” Beryl asked.
“Papa said he’s never coming back. I either go with them and abandon Jace, or …”
“What?! He can’t be serious!” But Beryl knew he was.
“Well, that’s not very sporting of them, I must say,” Mrs. Stone said.
“No, it’s not,” Katie agreed. “But that’s my father.”
Beryl hugged her. “He’ll come around.”
“No. He won’t.”
“Come now, child. No parent can stay separated from their offspring for long,” said Mrs. Stone. “In time he’ll want to see you.”
“Maybe so,” Katie said, “but he’s so stubborn, he won’t do it.”
“I’m sorry to hear this,” Beryl said. “Does Jace know?”
“I haven’t told him yet. After you left to go have tea at the Vanders’, my parents accompanied me here. They told me on the way, then left me at the door.”
“Didn’t you mother have anything to say?” Beryl asked.
“You know my mother,” Katie said. “She won’t contradict him.”
Beryl gave her another hug. “I’m so sorry.” Her heart broke for Katie. This was the one thing they were trying to avoid. Why did Mr. Haverdash have to be such a fool?
“You poor child,” Mrs. Stone said. “I’m afraid I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know heartbreak when I see it.”
Katie looked at her. “I tried. I really did.”
“Yes, you did,” Beryl said. “And Jace did too. You and I both know he wasn’t about to let your father take you back to Denver without him going with you.”
“I know. Now Father’s trying to force me to go by giving me an ultimatum.”
“My word,” Mrs. Stone said.
Katie wiped her tears. “I’m sorry, Beryl. You have a guest. Forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Beryl said gently. “We’ll figure something out.” She drew away from Katie and looked at her. “Better?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
“I’m glad I was able to come, despite how I got here.” She joined Mrs. Stone on the other side of the counter. “I’m sure you wish to find Mr. Stone.”
“He’s probably waiting for me back at the hotel.” Mrs. Stone went around the counter and pulled Katie into her arms. “Don’t worry, my dear. We parents sometimes don’t realize what our children do for us. Your father will see one day.”
“I hope so,” Katie said. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Stone stepped back. “You’re welcome.” She turned to Beryl. “We should go.”
Beryl took a last look at Katie, smiled, then headed for the door. “I’ll be at the hotel.”
“Thank you,” Katie said.
Beryl went outside, her heart in her throat. She hated seeing her friend like this.
Mrs. Stone touched her shoulder. “Why don’t we go into the café first and have some coffee?”
Beryl nodded. She was at a loss as to what to do for poor Katie.
Inside the café they took a seat, gave Darcy their order, then sat quietly. “You can’t fix the whole world, my dear,” Mrs. Stone said, breaking the silence.
Beryl sighed. “Why not?”
Mrs. Stone laughed. “You weren’t made to rescue everyone. Just a few. Remember that.”
“But …”
“No, my dear, I’ve seen this before. My sister Apple would set out to help everyone that needed helping if she could. Her heart is too big for her own good. But something else drives you, I think.”
Beryl rolled her eyes. “Does it show that much?”
She nodded. “It does.”
Darcy brought their coffee. “Will there be anything else?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Stone said. “Have you any pie?”
“Yes, ma’am. We have cherry and apple.”
“Oh, lovely. Might I have a slice of the cherry?”
Darcy nodded.
“Make that two,” Beryl said.
“Two slices of cherry.” Darcy glanced at the door, turned and left.
“Is she expecting someone?” Mrs. Stone asked.
“Always,” Beryl said. But she didn’t have time to think about that now. Besides, it wasn’t her business – Katie was. Ephraim was. And now, Ephraim’s mother. Just a few.
“Nothing soothes the soul like pie,” Mrs. Stone said. “At least where I come from.”
“If that’s the case, Katie should have two slices about now.”
Mrs. Stone smiled. “She’s not the only one. You have a lot on your mind, I can tell. You want to help your friend, you have to handle my son’s growing affections for you and decide if you can live in a little town like this as opposed to the lifestyle you’ve had all these years.” She took another sip of coffee. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Beryl closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re right.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, enjoying the warmth. Despite the hot day, she was suddenly chilly. “You know, I prayed Katie’s parents would be leaving town without her. I guess my prayer’s been answered, but …”
“Now, don’t go blaming yourself. They’re not your parents. Speaking of which, when do you expect them?”
“I don’t.”
“What?”
“They were in Europe at last check. I had to send the telegram to Father’s office. His secretary Mr. Schwab would relay it to him.”
“I see. So you could be married before they can get here.”
“I suppose, unless …” She looked at her. “I’m not sure if Ephraim and I …”
Mrs. Stone smiled. “Of course you will. I know my son.”
Beryl’s eyebrows rose.
Mrs. Stone laughed. “Oh, I can tell he’s smitten. Thank Heaven we got here in time.”
Now Beryl gasped.
“To see you wed, my dear, not to separate you. Besides, all we can do is advise our son. He’s a grown man – he’ll do as he wishes.”
Beryl wanted to hug the woman. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Stone shrugged as Darcy brought their pie. “Oh, look, how lovely.”
Darcy set the plates on the table. “Do you need anything else?”
Beryl noticed she still wasn’t as chipper as before. Don’t go there. She’s not your problem. “No, Darcy, thanks.”
Darcy gave them a weak smile and went back to the kitchen.
“My, is everyone around here melancholy today?” Mrs. Stone asked.
“No, Darcy is just … well, let’s enjoy our pie.”
“Capital idea, dear.” Mrs. Stone took a bite. “I’d very much like to meet your parents. I never got much of a chance when they were in Clear Creek all those years ago. But I’m sure Levi and I will get around to it one day.”
The café door opened. Darcy darted out of the kitchen with a smile, but it quickly vanished. “Good afternoon. You can sit anywhere.” She turned back to get the coffee pot.
Beryl shook her head. The poor girl had it bad. She glanced at the door to see who had entered – and almost choked.
“What is it, dear?” Mrs. Stone asked.
Beryl couldn’t speak at first.
“My goodness, you’re white as a sheet!” Mrs. Stone said, alarmed. “What’s wrong?” She turned in her chair to see what had Beryl so flummoxed. “Oh, my heavens!”
Beryl finally found her voice and stood. “Father, Mother … what are you doing here?”
“You have quite the little practice, son.” Levi Stone picked up a book off the desk and leafed through it. “Doc Drake would be proud of you.”
“I know,” Ephraim said. “He writes now and then. Are they well?”
“Oh, you know Bowen – nothing gets him down. He and Elsie are fine. His son Theron and his wife Leora are visiting soon. It’s the talk of the town.” He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Do you suppose the women are done with tea?”
“One never knows when it’s at the Vanders’. We could get some iced tea or coffee at the café, maybe a piece of pie. By the time we’re done, Mother and Beryl should be returning to the hotel.”
“I could do with some pie,” his father agreed. “Let’s go.”
Ephraim locked up. He and his father had a long chat, and a good one.
“Well,” his father said, “are you going to ask me?”
“For what?”
“For my blessing. I’m surprised you didn’t bring it up earlier.”
Ephraim stopped. “Oh, um …”
“Don’t tell me it’s too early for that. I know you too well. You’ve made up your mind.”
Ephraim sighed. There was no use fighting it. “Do I have it?”
He smiled. “If she makes you happy and loves you, of course. Is she from a good family?”
Ephraim shrugged as they set off again. “Well enough. But her family hasn’t been foremost on my mind. I know I’ll meet them eventually. I just hope they’re nothing like Katie’s.”
“Sheriff Diamond’s wife?”
“Yes. That poor woman …”
They walked in silence until they reached the café. Ephraim spied Mr. Markhel’s huge black Andalusian tied to the hitching post outside. This meant that if Darcy was at work, she’d be happy. Maybe he should have a word with Mr. Markhel. He’d have to tell him he was turning down his offer anyway.
They stepped into the café and saw the scene before them. “What the …?” Ephraim whispered. Darcy stood off to one side, coffee pot in hand. Beryl was standing next to his mother, who was in an animated conversation with a beautiful dark-haired woman … in Italian? Another older man was off to one side, talking to Beryl and looking annoyed.
“What’s going on?” his father asked. “Fina?” He headed over, and Ephraim followed. “Is everything all right?”
Beryl looked at Ephraim. “Oh, thank Heaven.”
The man turned around. “This is the boy?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Father?” Ephraim cried. He glanced at the dark-haired woman and back. “Your mother, I take it?”
Beryl nodded, eyes downcast.
Ephraim turned to his own mother, who stood, jaw set, as Beryl’s mother kept spouting off in her own tongue. He looked at Beryl. “What’s happened?”
“We did.”
“Young man,” Beryl’s father said. “I’d like to have a word with you.”
“Father, please,” Beryl took him by the arm. “Not now.”
Ephraim glanced between them, noticed Mr. Markhel in his usual corner watching with interest, then turned to Beryl. “Are you all right?”
“What do you mean, is she all right?” her father snapped.
Ephraim slowly turned to face him, his jaw as set as his mother’s. “Mr. Branson, I presume.”
“Yes, and you must be Mr. Stone.”
“I am.” He offered him a hand.
Mr. Branson stared at it. “I’ll just say what I have to say, young man. You cannot marry my daughter.”
Ephraim’s heart stopped. He opened his mouth to take a breath and couldn’t.
“Ephraim?” Beryl said with alarm. “Ephraim, what’s wrong?”
“He’s as shocked as we are!” Mrs. Stone said. “The very idea of coming here and telling this poor girl she can’t marry the man she loves!”
Ephraim’s eyebrows rose as he finally got some air.
His father patted him on the back. “It’s the shock.” He walked over to Mr. Branson. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“I was informed my daughter plans to marry,” Mr. Branson said.
“What?” Beryl exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything about marriage in my message!”
“No, you didn’t.” Her father looked past her at Mr. Markhel. “But I have ways of finding things out.”
Ephraim slowly turned and glared at the big man. “What the …”
Mr. Markhel stood and left the corner. Darcy remained frozen.
“Markhel, what’s going on?” Ephraim demanded.
“Mr. Branson and I have done … business in the past.”
Beryl gaped at him. “You have? Did … did you contact my father too?”
“Never mind about that,” her father said. “You’re coming back to Baltimore with us.”
“I am not!” She planted her feet.
“Do not argue with me, young lady. I don’t know what got into that foolish head of yours to make you come all the way out here. I’m just glad your mother and I got here in time.”
Beryl looked helplessly at Ephraim. He met her gaze, nodded and turned to her father. “She came as my mail-order bride.”
Mr. Branson’s eyes flashed. “That makes this so much worse.”
“What are you talking about?” Beryl said. “I wanted to come!”
“Did you? Or did you come because of Katie?”
Ephraim knew he had her there. He’d have to calm everyone down and fast. But one piece didn’t quite fit. He gave Mr. Markhel a hard stare. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to join your organization.”
The big man sighed. “I had a feeling. Nevertheless, you cannot marry Miss Branson.”
Ephraim’s eyes went wide. “What? Who are you to tell me who I can or cannot marry?”
Mr. Markhel stood to his full height. “I am not the one to question on such matters.”
“Of course not, because it’s none of your business!”
“Please, let’s not get in a shouting match,” Beryl said.
The door opened and Mr. Haverdash stepped in, his wife right behind. He took one look at the group, drew his own conclusions and laughed.
Ephraim rolled his eyes. This was the last thing they needed right now.
Chapter Eighteen
Beryl stared at her parents, mortified. They’d come into the café, took one look at her and demanded to know what she was doing in Independence, as if Mr. Haverdash hadn’t told them already. Who knew what else he said in his message? How did they get here so fast?
“Ber-ber,” her mother said, using her nickname. “You will come with us. We are taking you home.” She held out her hand.
Beryl stared at her. “I can’t, Mama. I can’t.”
Her mother looked at her father, who sighed. “We … cannot allow this. I’ll explain later.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll need to explain now,” Ephraim said.
“Yes, I think our children deserve an explanation,” Mr. Stone agreed. “We were just as shocked to find out our son got a mail-order bride as you are, but we came to support them, not tear them apart.”
“You do not know the situation,” Beryl’s father said.
Mrs. Stone gasped. “Is she betrothed to another?” She looked at Beryl. “Are you?”
“No, of course not.” She spun to her parents. “Unless … oh no, you didn’t arrange a marriage with someone and not tell me about it, did you?”
Mr. Haverdash cackled in delight as he led his wife to the table Mr. Markhel had occupied earlier. “Coffee, girl,” he snapped at Darcy.
Mr. Markhel turned to him and growled.
“What’s the matter with him?” Mrs. Stone asked.
“Which one?” Ephraim quipped.
“Never mind,” Beryl’s father said. “We must resolve this.”
“I agree,” Beryl said. She took Ephraim’s hand. “We’re getting married.”
Her father took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Beryl, there are things your mother and I haven’t told you …”
She gasped. “You did arrange a marriage! Oh Father, how could you?”
“We didn’t. It’s just that …” Mr. Branson glanced at everyone. “We can’t talk
here.”
“Is our son not good enough for her?” Mrs. Stone asked.
Beryl blanched and shook her head. Ephraim hadn’t recognized who her parents were yet and, miracle of miracles, Mr. Haverdash hadn’t said a word. He was too busy cackling in the corner. Maybe he thought Ephraim already knew.
“That has nothing to with it,” Mr. Branson said.
“Then why are you so opposed to them getting married?” snapped Mrs. Stone.
Beryl watched her father raise his eyebrows at Mr. Markhel, as if to say, help me out here! But what did he have to do with any of it? Wait … if Mr. Markhel was some sort of Pinkerton detective, was he hired to keep an eye on her? No, that didn’t make sense either.
Ephraim took her hand and squeezed it. “Mr. Branson, Mrs. Branson, I know I haven’t known your daughter long. So I’ll just say it. I love her. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone.”
Beryl stared at him as her heart melted. “Ephraim …”
He smiled warmly. “It’s true. I really do.”
Her entire body and soul responded. She felt more connected to him than ever before. “And I you …”
“What?!” her mother cried. “No, Ber-ber! He is not for you!”
“But he is, Mother. I can’t explain why, but I can’t leave him.”
Her father facepalmed. “Oh, Rufi, where did we go wrong?”
Mr. Haverdash sipped at the coffee Darcy brought. “Daughters are not for the faint of heart, Branson. Take my word for it.”
His hand slid down his face. “Bertram Haverdash, is that you?”
“It is. And you’ve got your hands full, haven’t you?”
Her father sighed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Oh, don’t be so sure.” Mr. Haverdash stood and took a few steps toward them. “I’m not foolish enough to say I’m a better man than you; I don’t come close to what you’re worth. But believe me, if these two are as in love as they say they are, they won’t be swayed. I’ve tried and failed. My Katie loves that sheriff of hers and he loves her. Trust me, I’ve spent days trying to convince her otherwise.”
Beryl looked at him. “Yes, and now you’re leaving Katie and she’ll never see you again.”