The Engagement Bargain Page 18

  She accepted his offering and swiped at her eyes, then gave a delicate sniffle. “What about that little boy’s parents? He doesn’t appear any healthier than those kittens.”

  “I don’t know much. The father is a drinker. He has a bad temper. The mother is little more than a shadow. She’s lost two babies to stillbirth. I think she’s too worn down.”

  Her chin tilted into a determined set, as though she’d come to a decision about a problem he hadn’t known existed. “That’s who I fight for. That’s who I’m trying to save. That’s who I’m trying to give a voice.”

  Something they had in common. He stayed in Cimarron Springs because of the small differences he made each day. For Jasper. For Triple A. For the animals that provided labor and even those that simply provided companionship. Except nothing he did would ever amount to much or make a great difference. He was content with his contribution. He trusted in the Bible. He trusted that those who had faith in the small things would also have faith in the large ones.

  Anna needed a much larger stage. She deserved a larger stage. He ran his thumb around the curve of her ear and cupped her neck, hair and shoulder. This was a woman who needed a fight, who needed a cause.

  He’d been lying to himself, clutching onto a hope that didn’t exist. He’d been lying because a part of him wanted her near. He admired her, he liked her. The feelings she invoked were a far cry from those he’d felt for Mary Louise. Those had been insignificant and childish by comparison. He finally understood love. He finally understood loss.

  “You already make a difference,” he said. “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

  She smiled, and the last vestiges of his doubts faded. Everyone lost their way once in a while, and Anna had lost hers. He’d be doing her a great disservice if he didn’t set her back on the path she’d chosen, the path that brought her joy and gave her life meaning.

  Too bad he’d done a poor job of protecting himself in the process. He’d done the one thing he’d promised himself he’d avoid. He was falling for a girl who could never love him in return.

  “You make a difference to everyone you meet, whether you know it or not.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the pounding on the door, Anna raised her head from the floorboard she was vigorously sanding. Her hair was piled atop her head and covered with a handkerchief. Dirt streaked her hands and arms. She’d only planned on scrubbing a stain in the corner, but the task had grown. Once one part of the floor shone, the other parts appeared even duller.

  While the structure was sound and Mr. Stuart had assured them the roof didn’t leak, the inside had been neglected. A family of mice had taken up residence in the kitchen cupboard, and they’d had to relocate a Lark’s nest built over the back door. The evidence of the birds was a touch harder to remove.

  She sat back on her heels and surveyed her work. She’d sanded the floors in the entry by hand, and they were ready for a fresh coat of lemon oil.

  The pounding sounded once more, and she pushed off her knee and stood. She hoped her visitor didn’t stay long because there was too much work to be done and she wasn’t exactly dressed for company.

  She opened the door to a beaming Mrs. McCoy. “Thought I’d better check up on you since I’m going to be your mother-in-law.”

  This certainly didn’t bode well for the floor waxing.

  Anna gaped. She was going to strangle Caleb if this web tangled any further. “But you know the truth, right? Caleb...uh...your son promised me he’d tell you.”

  “Of course, dear.” Mrs. McCoy leaned closer. “I’m playing along.”

  The woman bustled past her and set her basket on the counter, then busied herself with removing jars and wrapped parcels from its interior.

  “Really,” Mrs. McCoy said. “I wish I’d made up the rumor myself. It’s quite romantic.”

  “I’m not certain romantic is the term I’d use.”

  Anna was thinking more along of the lines of harebrained or ill conceived.

  “You and Caleb and your whirlwind courtship. How you’re fixing up your house so Izetta will be all settled before the two of you get married. You’ve gained the admiration of the whole town.”

  “But it’s not true.” How had such a simple bargain spun out of control? “Any of it.”

  “Well if it were true then it would be news, wouldn’t it? News is boring. Filled with all sorts of facts and figures. We’re talking about gossip.”

  Right now, Anna would much prefer a weather report. Something simple and boring and not all connected to her. “You’re not even a bit alarmed by any of this? I hadn’t expected such a furor.”

  “Don’t you worry. This will all blow over soon. With any luck, there’ll be another dead body off the five-fifteen train. Not that I wish ill on anyone. I mean to say that something else will take the place of this rumor. Are you feeling better this morning? You looked a might peaked the other day. Course that was probably all the fuss at the train station and the bustle of settling into a new town. We’ve had our share of excitement here in Cimarron Springs, but that dead fellow was a new one. Well, mostly new.”

  Pressing a hand against her head to still the spinning caused by her unexpected visitor, Anna said, “I’m feeling much better. I tire more easily than I used to.”

  “That’s to be expected, I’d imagine. Never been shot myself, though.” Mrs. McCoy appeared thoughtful, as though searching her memory, ensuring she hadn’t taken a bullet at some point. “This engagement gives us the excuse to get to know one another. I’m absolutely fascinated by your work, my dear. Jo has done nothing but sing your praises for the last year. You’ve made an admirer out of Tony, as well. She’s all set for a protest during the presidential election. That’s next Tuesday. Or is it a week from next Tuesday? My, but doesn’t time scoot by?”

  “That’s very brave of Tony.”

  Here was another example in her arsenal. Tony had taken up the cause. After only a brief conversation, she’d set about staging a protest. Small gestures built into something bigger than all of them.

  “You’ll find things are different out here in the country,” Mrs. McCoy stated. “Women’s rights are a matter of necessity. When there are only two of you doing the work, sometimes you both wear the pants on the farm. And I mean that quite literally, my dear.”

  Another knock sounded.

  Mrs. McCoy shooed her away. “Don’t mind me. Go and answer that. I thought I saw your friend Izetta working on the lilac bush out behind the house.”

  “It’s overtaken the roses.”

  “Lilacs are aggressive that way. They’d be a weed if they didn’t smell so sweet in the spring. My mother always kept a tincture of lilac water on her dressing table. To this day, the smell brings back memories of her. What were we talking about?”

  “Izetta,” Anna prompted. Mrs. McCoy had an endearing way of sliding off topic.

  “Oh, yes. I wanted to ask her about the Harvest Social. You’ll be coming, won’t you?”

  “I don’t know. When it is? I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.”

  “Next Monday. Or is it a week from next Monday? It’s around the corner, anyway. Certainly you’ll be here that long.”

  The knock at the door grew more insistent.

  “Oh, and call me Edith.” Mrs. McCoy hustled into the kitchen. “Don’t let me keep you. Seems like I’ve come on visiting day.”

  Anna patted her scarf-covered hair. Leaving a card and observing calling hours were obviously not customs of Cimarron Springs.

  She returned to the door and discovered Caleb on the porch holding a bunch of flowers. Her heart beat an odd rat-a-tat-tat in her chest.

  She whipped off her scarf and smoothed her hair.

  “I thought you’d like an update on my unexpected guests,” he spoke cheerful
ly. “You’ll be happy to know the two kittens are fit and feisty.”

  Her cheeks warmed at his thoughtfulness. “I admit I was a touch worried. They had quite a traumatic time of it.”

  “I believe I’ve found them a new home and names, as well.”

  “You work quickly,” she said.

  “I had to visit the Elder ranch, and Jasper had already told them about our heroic rescue. They were immediately adopted by Hazel and named Viola and Sebastian.”

  “A Shakespeare reference. I must meet this young Hazel one day.”

  “I hope you do.”

  Had she imagined the note of longing in his voice? Glancing down at her dirt-streaked apron, she sighed. Was there any chance he’d simply leave and let her freshen up?

  “A job well done,” she said.

  “Your handkerchief played a pivotal role.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “In any event, thank you for keeping me apprised.”

  “I brought you a housewarming gift.” He handed her the bunch of purple asters. “There isn’t much selection this time of year.”

  He doffed his hat and ducked beneath the low door, crowding into the entry. Why hadn’t she considered he’d visit this morning? Why had she worn her most unbecoming dress? Why was she fretting about something so mundane, so entirely feminine and frivolous?

  Anna clutched the flowers against her chest and gazed into his emerald-green eyes. My, but he had the most beautiful eyes. Even that first time she’d met him, with all the commotion, she’d been entranced by those eyes. The allure hadn’t faded.

  He stared at her expectantly, and she started. “Do come in. And thank you, they’re quite lovely. Your timing is fortunate. Your mother is here. She’s around back talking with Izetta.”

  Caleb grimaced. “She’s probably escaping the boys. All Maxwell talks about these days is the dead body.”

  “Apparently he’s the only one interested in something as mundane as a murder. Everyone else is discussing our engagement.”

  “Don’t blame me.” He quirked an eyebrow. “You’d think a dead man was more interesting than an engagement.”

  “One would suppose.”

  “Our plan of saying and doing nothing has been wildly successful. If we never spoke again they’d probably have us married by spring.”

  “I’m developing a worry over the future of mankind.”

  Anna stepped aside and placed the flowers in a pitcher of water on the dining room table, fanning the blooms.

  She returned and accepted his hat, absently running her hand along the worry spot on the brim, then hung it on the hook near the door. “You must tell me more about this Harvest Festival. When you spoke of the social in Kansas City, I had assumed you were exaggerating.”

  “I never exaggerate. However, I do sometimes lie outright.”

  Anna laughed in spite of herself. “You are incorrigible.”

  Her carefully constructed walls were eroding by the moment. Why hadn’t nature granted him with pale blue eyes? Or boring brown? Or dismal gray? No. He’d been given the eyes of a charmer. Worse yet, he didn’t even know his own attraction. A dash of arrogance might have blunted his hold on her.

  “You already know about the shucking bee and barn dance,” he said. “It’s a bit of a marriage market, as well. A lot of the ranchers and farmers don’t get to town very often, and it’s a good chance to check out the local stock.”

  “The local stock? Isn’t that a bit crude?”

  “Sorry.” He had the grace to blush. “That’s what it feels like, though.”

  “Will you be attending?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it. There’s a whole bevy of McCoy cousins there. If I didn’t go, they’d never let me live it down. It’s practically a family reunion.”

  “How many McCoys are there?”

  “As many as the County Cork in Ireland could send.”

  The twinkle in his eyes sent a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. “Where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thank you. I can’t stay long. I need to check on the Elder’s stallion again this afternoon. I thought I better check on my fiancée in the meantime.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I guess Mr. Reinhart was correct. We gave the town a puzzle, and they filled in the pieces.”

  Caleb hesitated. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Actually, she was rather enjoying the wonders of everyday living. She no longer felt as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She’d stepped away from the cause, and nothing had happened. They sky hadn’t fallen. The sun still set in the evenings.

  She’d been infused with the wonder of everyday beauty. Oddly enough, polishing the floor had given her the same sense of accomplishment as giving a speech. There was pride in a job well done, no matter what the job.

  She rested her hands on the back of her hips. “Admit the truth. If this was happening to someone else, we’d both find the situation terribly funny.”

  “Especially since half of Cimarron Springs knows who you are.” Caleb offered an abashed smile. “It’s the worst-kept secret in town, that’s for certain. All the McCoys know, the Elders know, Jo’s family knows, so that’s the Cains, as well.”

  “Is there anyone left?”

  “Not a lot.”

  “Should we simply tell everyone the truth?”

  “And ruin everyone’s fun? I don’t have the heart. The last excitement this town had was when Jo shot her husband.”

  “On purpose? I’ve never heard the whole story.”

  “Of course, on purpose,” he said, as though she’d asked a silly question.

  The answer didn’t seem as obvious as everyone around her assumed. “Did she mean to kill him?

  “Just wound him. If Jo had wanted him dead, he’d be dead.”

  The one part of the story she had no trouble believing. “That does sound exciting.”

  “Someone was holding the marshal hostage. Jo took the shot as a distraction, then John Elder killed the man.”

  “The same John Elder that married the widow whose husband hid his loot in a cave by Hackberry Creek?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I’m starting to like this town more and more.”

  “The past few years, there’s been a dry spell. Now there’s a dead body and a false engagement. You can’t beat that kind of excitement.”

  “I wouldn’t want to.”

  “How are you settling in, anyway?”

  “I’ve been invited to a quilting bee.”

  “I hope you can stitch better than Mary Louise.”

  Anna couldn’t hide her decidedly feminine emotions. She’d yet to meet this paragon, Mary Louise, but she took an unhealthy, an uncharacteristic, pride in the fact that she could sew.

  Before she could reply, yet another knock sounded on the door.

  Anna fumbled with strings on her apron. There was no use fighting the tide. She was going to host everyone in Cimarron Springs with her hair mussed wearing her oldest and most worn dress. “The knocking hasn’t stopped since this morning.”

  “Don’t expect the visitors to stop anytime soon. They usually allow you a day or two to get settled. After that they release the barrage.”

  “Exactly how long do you think this barrage will go on?”

  When her mother had moved townhouses in St. Louis, they’d received a basket of muffins from the neighbor on their right and a polite but firm note from the neighbor on their left informing them of her allergy to Russian sage, and could they please not plant any.

  “The visits will continue until everyone has satisfied their curiosity,” Caleb said.

  She caught sight of a streak of dirt on her forehead in the oval mirror hanging on the wall. “You m
ean to say, indefinitely?”

  “Indefinitely. Welcome to life in a small town.”

  The knock sounded again, and they both laughed. Caleb fanned his arm. “Please, don’t let me stop you from answering that.”

  She opened the door and gazed upon yet another, younger version of Caleb. The boy standing on her step was tall and gangly, his arms and legs equally proportioned. She supposed he’d eventually fill out and assume his older brother’s build. She cast a sidelong glance at Caleb. Lucky boy.

  “I’m Maxwell McCoy,” he said. “People call me Max.”

  “I had a feeling you were a McCoy. You and your brother and sister are remarkably similar in appearance.”

  “People say we look alike. But all the McCoys look alike. Except for ma. She has blond hair.” He scratched his head. “I guess it’s mostly gray now.”

  “We’ll stick with blond. Ladies don’t always like to be reminded of their age. Not that age denotes ability or worth. It’s simply the polite thing. Are you looking for your brother?”

  He appeared a touch bemused by her speech. “Nah. I came to meet you.”

  “That’s very nice.” Anna held out her hand for a perfunctory shake. “I’m Anna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Maxwell McCoy.” A violent blush colored his cheeks. “I said that before, didn’t I?”

  “Quite all right.”

  “Did you see the dead body? I tried asking Caleb about it, but he wouldn’t tell me. Tony said she got a good look, and he was waxy and pale. Is that true?”

  “Um. I suppose it must be correct. I only took a peek at his face. Mostly I only saw his hand.”

  “Was there any blood?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  The enthusiasm drained from his expression like air from an overfilled balloon. “No blood, huh? That’s what Tony said. I guess I’ll have to take her word on the rest.”

  “The rest of what?”

  “She said his eyes were all bugged out, like he’d been choked or something.”

  Max wrapped his hands around his throat and stuck out his tongue, making a strangling sound in his throat.