With the exception of the curtains, Ariadne loved everything Regina had chosen. They picked a new curtain pattern together and then they were off to the mercantile, eating slices of bread with jam as they walked. Regina had added some other things to the list as well—some nails or hooks for their dresses until they could build a proper closet, a wash basin for the corner of their room, a bucket for carrying water, and several other little items that she’d never considered went into housekeeping. And then when they started cooking, they’d need even more . . . She was starting to realize the reverend’s wisdom in helping them establish a line of credit.
Toria pulled out some order forms and began to fill them out, showing her appreciation for choices the sisters had made. “Oh, those are darling teacups,” she said when she reached that part of the order. “I can’t wait to sit in your shop and drink from one of these.”
“And there are matching plates for the cakes,” Ariadne pointed out. “Our stove is just big enough to bake those, but we’d like to know a price on a larger unit so we can save up for one.” She would be the one in charge of making the cakes. Regina wouldn’t know the difference between a flour sifter and an Easter bonnet.
Toria flipped through another catalog and found what they were looking for, and Regina noted the price. It was so difficult to make plans when they didn’t know how much profit to expect, but she supposed that was just part of their new adventure.
The door to the store opened just as Toria was adding up Regina’s total, and she glanced up and smiled. “Oh, hello, Jake. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Regina felt her spine stiffen. Toria couldn’t mean Jake Honeycutt—surely there were other Jakes in town. But then she heard his voice. “I came in with Mr. Clark on an errand and thought I’d stop in. You still have some ready-made shirts available?”
“I sure do. I moved them over next to the fabric table.”
“Thanks.”
Regina heard his footsteps going back farther in the store, and she released the breath she’d been holding.
Toria leaned across the counter. “What’s the matter, Regina? I thought you and Jake were on friendly terms, the way he requested that tick for you.”
“I’m not sure what sort of terms we’re on,” Regina replied. “All I know is that I’ve never met a more stubborn man in all my life.” She might be willing to admit that she’d been partially at fault for their spat, but that didn’t remove him from the equation at all.
Toria chuckled. “We’ve all got some stubbornness in us, haven’t we?”
“We do, and some were given a more generous helping.”
Ariadne’s mouth was twitching, and Regina was not amused to see how hard her sister had to fight not to smile.
“And she thinks this is all so very delightful,” Regina continued, nodding toward Ariadne. “She’s been forbidden to speak of it—otherwise, she’d be teasing me even now.”
“Well, I haven’t been forbidden,” Toria said with a smile of her own. “I think you and Jake would make a wonderful couple.”
Regina felt her face turn bright red, and she whipped her head around to make sure Mr. Honeycutt wasn’t standing right there. “We would not,” she whispered. “We don’t even like each other.”
“I doubt that very much,” Toria replied. “Now, here’s the total for your order. Would you like to open an account here at the store?”
Regina looked at the slip. It was certainly a great deal of money, as she’d ordered tables and chairs and tablecloths and paint as well as the dishes, but it was very close to what she’d calculated the night before. “I’ll pay now,” she said. “An account is a good idea, but I’d like this portion of our business to be paid for upfront.”
“I believe that’s wise,” Toria replied.
Regina counted out the correct amount and passed it across the counter, then bid Toria a good day and all but dragged Ariadne out of the store. She wasn’t sure if she did or did not want to run into Jake Honeycutt that day, and she didn’t want to be forced into a decision by still being inside when he came up to the counter.
***
Jake and Mr. Clark had parted ways for a moment so Mr. Clark could speak to the blacksmith about some repairs to a metal chain and so Jake could buy a shirt. Jake had actually chosen out two shirts, feeling just a bit extravagant, but realizing they were needed, and his package was safely stowed in Butternut’s saddlebags. Now they were seated across from KC Murray’s desk, and the man was listening to the story of their findings.
“This doesn’t sound like the cases I dealt with before,” KC said when they were finished, “but I’ll certainly look into it. It doesn’t sit right with me that we have another group or an individual who wants to do the ranchers harm. It hurts the whole community to hurt the ranchers.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Clark said. “We keep a good number of these people fed on our beef—it’s a selfish act to tamper with our fence line.”
“Keeping a guard is a good idea, and I’ll do some riding around and asking questions. You haven’t been able to tell if any animals are missing?”
“We have a thousand head, so keeping an actual count is tricky, but the fence wasn’t damaged enough to have let one through,” Mr. Clark replied.
“Our guess is that they did just enough so that when they come back, they’d only have to cut a few lines to set the cattle free,” Jake added. “But I doubt any were taken this time.”
KC nodded. “Your theory is likely correct. Sounds like they plan to bring several men with them when they come back, so you’d best stay on alert.”
“On the other hand . . .”
Both men turned and look at Jake. He felt a little out of place speaking up like this, but he hated jumping to conclusions when there could be other explanations. “Seems like we should also be thinking about a prankster, someone who just wanted to cause a little trouble without doing any real harm. He may never be back out our way again.”
“Possible, but I’d rather see you prepared than not,” KC said, and Mr. Clark nodded.
Jake was fine with preparation as long as they’d looked at the other angles as well. He wondered for a split second if Susie had noticed anything while she’d been hanging out at the ranch, but he pushed that thought to the side as soon as he had it. He was not going to hunt down an imaginary angel to ask for advice on something she may or may not have seen.
KC promised to ride out to the ranch the next day, and they shook hands and exited his office.
When Jake stepped outside, he noticed Regina and Ariadne across the street. Ariadne had a smile on her face, but Regina most certainly did not. She took a step forward, then back, then another forward, almost like she was doing some sort of dance there on the road. Then he realized she was trying to decide if she should cross the street. He decided to put her out of her misery and crossed it himself.
“Morning, Miss Regina, Miss Ariadne.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Nice blue sky today.”
“Isn’t it, though? I said to myself, ‘That’s certainly a nice blue sky,’” Ariadne replied. “Oh, look! There’s . . . a person . . . I should go say hello to. Please excuse me.” She bustled off as quickly as her many skirts would let her, leaving Regina and Jake in privacy—well, as private as two people could get on the street in the middle of Creede.
“Good morning, Mr. Honeycutt,” Regina said. “It’s very kind of you to say hello.”
“You looked as though you wanted to speak with me.”
“Did I? I can’t imagine how I gave that impression.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Might have had something to do with the way you started across the street three or four times before stopping yourself.”
“Was I doing that? It must have been unconsciously done, I assure you.”
There it was again—that little arrogant streak she had. He didn’t know why it irked him so much, but it certainly did. She must have used that little tilt of her head to get her way when she was a little girl, and it worked, so she kept it up.
“I suppose it was my mistake. I’ll leave you to your day, then.” He touched his hat again and turned to go.
“Mr. Honeycutt?”
He turned back. “Yes?”
She glanced down at the ground, then back up. “I did want to say something.”
“And what might that be?” He was in no mood to make this easy for her. Perhaps he wasn’t having the kindest feelings that morning, but at least he was being honest with himself about it.
“Thank you for asking Toria about the mattress tick. That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Well, I knew from overhearing that those take a bit of maneuvering from the attic storeroom, so I thought I’d just give it a little nudge. Wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to me. And I’d also like to thank you for helping us yesterday on the canyon road. It was a dangerous situation, and I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along.” She paused. “Why did you come along? Did we keep you from an errand?”
There was no way for Jake to reply to that. He couldn’t tell her about angels with blonde braids and fishing poles—how could he expect her to believe it when he didn’t believe it himself? “No need to worry about it,” he said at last. “You didn’t make me late for anything.”
She looked at him as though waiting for more, but she’d be waiting a long time. He’d said all he meant to.
“Please know that we appreciated it a great deal.” She inclined her head and then moved to step away.
Jake was going to let her go, but the words escaped before he knew they were going to. “Why do you do that, Miss Regina?”
“Why do I do what?”
“Just when things start getting real, you turn all formal, like you’re putting up a wall. What are you trying to protect yourself from?”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “I’m not aware that I do any such thing,” she said.
“Well, I’m here to tell you that you do, and it’s downright infuriating. I’m just trying to get to know you, and you keep shutting down with that fake elegance of yours.”
“Fake? I beg your pardon?”
“That’s right—fake. Do you wanna know how I know it’s fake?” He took a step closer.
“How do you know it’s fake?”
“Because you’re angry right now, and it’s the realest you’ve been since we met!”
She took a step toward him. Now they were nearly toe to toe. “I used to think you were a gentleman. I’ve changed my mind.”
“If that’s the worst insult you can think of to throw at me, I’m perfectly fine with that.”
“Why are you so infuriating?”
“Why are you so pretty?”
Again, the words were out of his mouth before he knew it. He watched as the determination in her eyes flickered. He’d disarmed her, that was for sure, but he’d also disarmed himself because he’d just noticed that her arm was brushing his and he could smell her lavender soap, and he was more distracted than he had any right to be. He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Mr. Clark’s waiting for me. I’ve got to head back to the ranch.”
“Very well. Please be sure to stop by sometime. I believe we owe you some tea cake.”
He gave her a mock bow. “I would be delighted to ride my stallion up to your establishment and partake of whatever delights you’ve prepared for me.” When her jaw dropped open, he added, “See? Fake elegance. Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” He spun on his heel and crossed the street again, going to find Butternut, who never used double talk or tried to manipulate him. Horses were so much better than women.
Of course, horses didn’t smell like lavender soap, and they didn’t have kissable lips, and they didn’t blush when you complimented them.
And it would be very strange indeed if they did.
***
“Are you sure we’re doing this right?” Ariadne stepped back and looked at the section of wall she’d just painted. “I can still see the wood through it.”
“Toria said we’d likely have to put on two coats,” Regina replied.
Ariadne raised an eyebrow. “She wants us to wear two coats?”
Regina laughed. “We’re such a sorry bunch, aren’t we? I’m often surprised we even know how to dress ourselves without help. A coat of paint means a layer of paint. We’ll have to put on two layers.”
“Oh.” Ariadne rested her brush on top of the paint can and wiped her forehead with her wrist. “It would be nice if it wasn’t quite so hot outside.”
“I’d hoped that leaving the door open would help, but it doesn’t seem to be making a difference.” Regina set her brush down too. “And look at us—all dirty and covered in paint specks. What would Mother think if she could see us now?”
“She’d likely faint.” Ariadne leaned on the windowsill and looked at her sister. “So, when are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Regina tucked a lock of hair back up, knowing full well what Ariadne meant, but wanting to delay as long as possible.
“What you and Mr. Honeycutt talked about last night! I stepped around the corner of the building, thinking I’d still be able to hear you, and I couldn’t. It was the most disappointing moment of my entire life.”
“You certainly haven’t lived a very exciting life then.” Regina shook her head, amused. “I thanked him for asking after the mattress tick for us, I thanked him for saving us on the road to Bachelor, and he was annoying and rude. It wasn’t a very long conversation.”
“So, you were kind and gracious, and he was an uncouth beast?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“And you didn’t say anything provoking at all?”
Regina sighed. “What do you want me to say—that I poked him with a stick until he lost his temper? No such thing happened. I believe we were mistaken in him. We thought he was one thing, and he’s actually something else. We’re no stranger to that sort of duplicity.”
“I think the two of you are just being stubborn. Would it do you some sort of harm to admit that you shouldn’t have taken that buggy to Bachelor?”
Regina pressed her lips together. She’d been thinking about it all night, but that didn’t make it any easier. “I shouldn’t have taken the buggy, but I felt trapped, and I didn’t want to wait for another willing soul to come along like Mr. Honeycutt did that first day.”
“That was almost an admission—can you try again, but without the string of reasons with it?”
“Fine.” Regina pulled in a breath. “I shouldn’t have taken the buggy.”
“Excellent.” Ariadne clapped her hands. “I’m very proud of you.”
Regina picked up her paintbrush again. “There’s no need to congratulate me like I’m a toddler taking my first steps.”
“Oh, but you are. Your first steps toward overcoming your pride.”
“I’m not prideful!” Regina almost shook her paintbrush at her sister, but realized what a mess that would make, and stopped herself just in time. “I don’t know why you think so.”
“Because it took you almost a full twenty-four hours to admit that you made a mistake. Isn’t that just a small bit prideful?”
Regina thought about it while she slapped paint on the next plank of wood. “I suppose,” she said at last.
“Two grand admissions in one day. This is quite historic.”
Regina would ignore that comment. It was for the best.
A moment later, a shadow fell across their threshold, and Regina turned her head to see who had come visiting. Her first thought was Mr. Honeycutt, and she didn’t know whether to be elated or infuriated. Instead, it was Archibald Grady, and she forced a smile.
“Hello, ladies,” he said, stepping inside. “I heard you’re joining our cadre of merchants, and I wanted to congratulate you. This is a fine place you’ve chosen.”
“Thank you,” Regina replied. “I’m sorry we don’t have time to visit, Mr. Grady, but as you can see, we’re very busy. Perhaps another time.”
“Another time is exactly why I’m here. Would the two of you allow me to escort you to dinner at the hotel tonight? I would like to do something to commemorate not only your arrival in town, but the opening of your shop.”
“Oh, that’s quite a shame.”
Regina turned at the sound of the new voice. A young woman had just entered, a shawl around her shoulders. “I’ve already invited them to dinner, and they said yes.”
Regina had no idea who this woman was, but she wasn’t about to contradict her. “That’s right, Mr. Grady. We already have plans for this evening.”
He looked back and forth between the two sisters. “Very well. Perhaps another time. Good day, Mrs. Jameson.” He nodded and left, and Regina was able to breathe more deeply when he was gone.
As soon as he was outside, Mrs. Jameson closed the door. “I hope you don’t mind my intervention, but that man . . .” She shuddered. “I had to do whatever it took to make him go away. I’m Beatrice, by the way. Welcome to Creede.”
“Thank you, Beatrice. And please, interfere as much as you like whenever Mr. Grady is concerned. I hardly know the man at all, but I don’t trust him one whit.”
“And you shouldn’t. He’s being investigated for several things right now—not the least of which is burning down Edwin’s restaurant. He’s slipperier than an eel.” She smiled. “But enough of him. Which of you is Ariadne, and which is Regina?”
The sisters identified themselves.
“And is it true that you drove a buggy halfway to Bachelor and got it stuck there in the middle of the road?”
“Well, that’s not exactly what happened,” Regina began, but Ariadne interrupted.
“Yes,” she said with no further information.
“But how did you know?” Regina asked.
“The wagon driver coming the other way stopped off at the saloon for a drink. He was spitting nails and told everyone he saw.”
Regina cringed. “So the whole town knows?”
“Pretty much. He didn’t know your names, but when he said two blonde women, well, it was easy enough to piece together.”
“I never meant to cause a problem,” Regina said. “It honestly never occurred to me that I would be.”
“Well, that’s a part of life, I believe,” Beatrice said. “I just wanted to give you my own special warning about that road, should you ever want to go out that way again. When I first moved here, I was with my parents, and we were coming from Bachelor to Creede. I had gotten out to walk, and my parents went over the edge of the ravine and were killed. It’s not something I can take lightly. Please, let a skilled driver take you. It’s not worth the risk. My father was an excellent driver, but he still wasn’t used to roads like this.”
“I’m so sorry you had to experience that,” Regina said, crossing the floor and touching Beatrice’s shoulder. “That must have been horrible. What an amazing coincidence that you weren’t in the wagon with them.”
A strange expression flickered across Beatrice’s face. “Or a miracle.”
“Oh, yes. Definitely a miracle.”
Beatrice blinked as if coming back from a memory. “I meant it when I said we’d like you to come for dinner. We live adjacent to the telegraph office—my husband operates the telegraph.”
“We’ve seen the sign,” Ariadne replied. “And I’m sure we’d both love to come—I’ve painted nearly both my arms right off and could use a break.”
“Wonderful. Don’t worry about dressing up on our account—if you’d like to come as you are and then get right back to work, we won’t be offended in the slightest. We’ve seen work clothes before.”
She asked them to come at six and then left, closing the door behind her again. “To keep out mosquitos,” she said with a wink, and the sisters laughed.