Lanterns and Lace

Chapter 10

“Papa?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Where’s Aunt Jenny?”

“She’s at the boardinghouse.”

“Why?” Rebecca peered wide-eyed through heavily veiled lashes.

“Because she’s not sick anymore and doesn’t need my care.” Grant played with a soft brown strand of her freshly washed and dried hair. It reminded him of silk—soft and priceless.

“What’s boardinghouse?”

“It’s a place for people to stay when they are away from home.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes people travel so far that they can’t get back home to sleep in their own beds.” He gently eased a stubborn tangle through his fingertips.

“Why?”

Grant kissed the top of her head. “Rebecca, you ask more questions than your papa can answer. Do you want to see more of Aunt Jenny?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, little one. Tomorrow, if you take a good nap for Mimi, I’ll take you with me to visit Aunt Jenny. Maybe she will go with us to church and dinner at Grandma and Grandpa’s again on Sunday.”

“I will. Promise. ‘Cause I don’t want to be ugly for you and Aunt Jenny. I wanna be sweet.”

“I know you do. Right now you need a good night’s sleep. Let’s say your prayers before Mimi comes in to kiss you good night.”

Grant kneeled with Rebecca at her bedside. Together they folded their hands and closed their eyes. “Heavenly Father,” he began.

“Heabenly Father.” Her tiny voice must surely echo across heaven’s portals.

“Thank you for this day.”

“Thank you for this day.”

“Be with me this night.”

“Be with me this night.”

“And guide me through tomorrow.”

“And guide me through ‘morrow.”

“God bless—”

“Papa, I know this part,” she whispered, her eyes clenched shut. “God bless Papa, Mimi, Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Morgan, Aunt Casey . . .”

He listened to Rebecca name each member of the family, knowing the longer she prayed, the more it delayed her inevitable bedtime. As she continued with each family member’s name, including a stray dog that she’d suddenly grown quite fond of, he thanked God for the precious treasure entrusted to him.

“And bless Aunt Jenny,” Rebecca said.

“Very good.” He lifted her up into his arms and drew her close. “Now into bed you go.”

“Becca not tired.” She yawned.

“Oh?”

“A little,” she said. “Papa?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

He kissed her forehead. “And I love you.” Grant heard Mimi’s footsteps in the hallway. “Ah, and here’s Mimi. Good night, little one.”

“G’night.” In the shadows of the dimly lit room, he saw snatches of Jenny in his little girl’s tiny features. It caught him off guard, and guilt needled at him for some of the things he’d been thinking about the woman. He needed to do better by her.

I’m a big part of the problem. I consistently look for shortcomings in Jenny rather than seeking out her finer points. He vowed to try harder, no matter how angry she made him.

Tomorrow he’d take Rebecca to visit her at the boardinghouse. Tomorrow he’d list all the good characteristics about Jenny Martin. Tomorrow he’d discover a more positive attitude about the present set of circumstances. Grant wished tomorrow were Saturday so he could relieve his frustrations through hard work at the ranch.

Life had been a whole lot easier before Jenny came into the picture—and Aubrey Turner. After much prayer and observation of Jenny, Grant now believed she didn’t know Turner, and that indicated a real problem. A man who followed a woman across the country and lied about his relationship with her meant danger. Grant sighed. And why did she buy a revolver? Another stop tomorrow would be Ben’s office to see if Turner was wanted by the law. And while he was out, he should pose the same question to Morgan.

*****

Jenny awakened early the following morning with a dull headache. A number of items needed to be handled today, one of which was to find someone who could show her how to operate the revolver. The Wild West had taken on a whole new meaning and certainly more than what the dime novels portrayed. Mother and Father had no idea she read such shameful literature along with her favorite Jane Austen.

The thought of meeting Aubrey at breakfast nearly stopped her from leaving her room, but she was famished after picking through supper the night before. She’d wakened early and hoped Aubrey slept late.

The enticing smells of a delightful breakfast wafted up the stairs and into her room. She quickly dressed and hurried down to the dining area. Instead of meeting Aubrey, she spotted Morgan sipping coffee and reading through a stack of papers.

I surely hope those aren’t Grant’s adoption papers.

But her stomach rumbled louder than the alarm sounding in her head.

She seated herself at the only table available, which happened to be to Morgan’s right. She requested scrambled eggs, bacon, a biscuit, and tea from Mrs. Snyder, and the moment she finished ordering breakfast, Morgan turned her way.

“Morning, Miss Martin. How are you doing this fine day?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“We all enjoyed your visit on Sunday. I hope you plan to join us in the near future.”

She smiled. What a perfect gentleman when he and the rest of the Andrews family were most likely scheming how to run her out of town. “I’m considering the invitation.” She turned her attention to a table of rowdy cowboy types and frowned.

“This is not Cleveland, Ohio,” Morgan said.

“I’m becoming more and more convinced of that, Mr. Andrews.”

He gathered up the papers before him. “I was just rereading the adoption papers for Rebecca.” Morgan smiled. “Everything is in order.”

She maintained her composure. “Sometimes the best environment for a child is a moral decision, not a legal one.”

He stood. “I agree with you wholeheartedly, but in this instance the two are the same.”

Jenny watched him walk away. She would not let a single Andrews spoil her day, her plans, or her future.

At the general store, Mr. Kahler was not in sight. Disappointment settled in at the possibility of not having anyone show her how to use the revolver. A young woman with strawberry blond hair arranged the shelves behind the register.

“Is Mr. Kahler available?” Jenny said.

“No, ma’am. He’ll be here in about an hour. Would you like to leave a message for him?” The young woman gasped and took a step back.

“Is something wrong? Are you ill?”

The woman shook her head. “No. I’m fine. You look like someone I used to know. A good friend who died.”

Could this be Ellen, Jessica’s friend? Jenny’s heart pounded faster. “Do you mean Jessica Martin?”

“Yes. Are you by any chance Jenny?”

“I am. Are you Ellen?”

The woman’s eyes grew larger, and it was then Jenny noticed a splash of peach-colored freckles across her nose. Surely this adorable young woman had not been a . . .

The woman responded by moving closer and hugging Jenny. “I thought I’d seen a ghost. The resemblance is remarkable.”

“I’ve been told that.”

“I know you came by to see Mr. Kahler, but is there anything I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so.” She tilted her head. “Is there a time when you and I can talk about Jessica?”

“I’d love to.” Ellen paused. “Let me think a moment. I’m getting married in a little over a week, and there are many preparations yet to be completed.”

“Congratulations. We can meet after your wedding.”

Ellen shook her head. “I don’t want to wait that long. I’m free on Thursday afternoon after one o’clock when I finish here.”

“I’m at the boardinghouse. Shall we meet there?”

“Perfect. If you like, we can walk to where I live.”

Jenny thought her blood must surely have frozen in her veins. Did Ellen still live in the—

“I live with a widow near the outskirts of town.”

Jenny hoped she’d disguised her initial reaction. “Sounds lovely.” She bid the young woman good-bye and walked back into the sunshine.

Convinced her day had taken a definite turn for the better, Jenny decided to forgo asking Mr. Kahler about how to use the Smith & Wesson Pocket .32. She smiled. She actually remembered what it was called, even though she had no idea what the .32 meant. But the revolver fit nicely inside her reticule. In any event, Jenny feared Ellen might inform Grant she’d purchased the weapon, since they were apparently friends. For now she’d go on back to the boardinghouse and look at the revolver very closely. Perhaps she could figure out how to load and fire it without any help. Pulling the trigger shouldn’t be a problem, but aiming presented definite challenges. Suddenly, she perked. Mr. Snyder might show her how to use it.

What a splendid idea. And on Thursday afternoon she’d learn more about Jessica. Maybe, just maybe, Jessica may have told Ellen that Jenny would be a good mother for her child. Those words should satisfy Grant and his family. Then she wouldn’t appear as an unscrupulous woman who didn’t care about her niece.

A peculiar sensation warmed her from her toes to her head. The idea of Grant viewing her as a compassionate, caring woman mattered very much. But why?

*****

Ellen watched Jenny cross the dusty street and step onto the boardwalk leading toward the boardinghouse. In her haste, she failed to see a man on horseback, but he stopped for her to pass. Jenny’s mind must be on other matters.

She and Jessica looked so much alike, the same dark hair and huge eyes in a petite body—and extremely beautiful. The unique resemblance almost frightened her, as though the two women shared more than sisterhood. And little Rebecca was but a miniature version of both women. Three peas in a pod. Unfortunately, Jessica possessed a few characteristics that she hoped never surfaced in either Rebecca or Jenny.

Why had Jenny decided to come after all this time? Jessica had said one day her sister would find her way to Kahlerville, but Ellen hadn’t expected it. In fact, she’d given up. Surely this visit wasn’t to cause problems for Grant. He loved Rebecca. His every word and action regarding the child proved it.

With their short conversation, Ellen didn’t view Jenny as the troublemaker type, but Ellen recalled Jessica’s stubborn and rebellious nature. As much as Ellen cared for Jessica and referred to her as a good friend, she had had her difficult moments.

Ellen shook her head, certain she was conjuring up needless notions. Suddenly, she remembered something Mr. Kahler had said: A young woman, a newcomer to Kahlerville, had purchased a revolver. How odd when we have a good sheriff in our quiet little town.

Ellen rubbed her palms together. She must simply pray Jenny had good intentions for this visit, but the prayer didn’t stop the incessant pounding of her heart.

*****

Grant entered the boardinghouse lobby with Rebecca in tow. She wore a huge green bow in her dark curls and a matching green and white pinafore dress. But her smile was the most captivating. At least for her papa. He greeted Harold Snyder.

“Would you check to see if Miss Jenny Martin is seeing visitors?”

Harold lifted a brow and leaned on the registration desk. “The last time you asked me that, she wasn’t happy. I want to keep my patrons on my good side.”

Grant grinned and pointed down at Rebecca. “Please tell her that Doc Andrews and Rebecca request her presence.”

Harold scratched a whiskered jaw. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Grant walked with Rebecca to the entrance of the dining room. Lester Hillman sat at a table with Aubrey Turner. Two of his least favorite people. From the contented look on Lester’s face, he was very pleased with himself.

“Thank you for your business,” Lester said. “I’m sure you’ll be happy with our bank’s services.”

Turner nodded. “And I appreciate your organizing a little card game. Thursday night will be fine.”

Grant whirled back around and led Rebecca to the parlor area across the hallway. Definitely not the conversation he wanted his daughter to hear. So the man is a gambler. Another excellent trait. Some folks had no problem with gambling, but Grant had seen too many families suffer because a man parted with his money at the poker tables instead of taking care of those who needed him. He helped Rebecca get seated on an overstuffed chair and smooth out her dress. A few moments later Jenny descended the stairway with Harold right behind her.

“Aunt Jenny.” Rebecca jumped from the chair and raced into the woman’s arms.

A twinge of jealousy stabbed at his heart.

“Rebecca, how good to see you.” Jenny bent to the little girl’s side and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Mimi said I was a prin . . . prin . . .” She glanced up at Grant.

“Princess.”

Rebecca’s shoulders lifted, and she nodded. “Yes, that’s it.”

“You are indeed a princess.” Jenny laughed lightly, then lifted her gaze to Grant. “Thank you. This means so much to me.”

The warmth from her eyes nearly took his breath away. And this second response to her made him more furious than the first. He must be working too hard. His normal methodical life had gotten beyond his control.

“Is there a reason for you to visit me?” she said.

“We want you to go to chuhch with us again,” Rebecca said.

Jenny moistened her lips. “I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Grant wondered how Jenny would talk her way out of this one. For a moment he felt sorry for her. His Rebecca practiced the art of tenacity.

“Please,” the little girl said. “I’ll be very good for you.”

Jenny laughed. “Does it mean that much to you?”

Rebecca nodded.

“All right. One more time.”

Grant swallowed a bit of humor. In the next breath, he remembered how having Jenny seated beside him this past Sunday had caused his mind to wander. “Would you like to take a stroll?” Perspiration dampened his back.

Jenny took Rebecca’s hand into hers. “I’d love to.”

“Oh, goodie.” Rebecca slipped her other hand into Grant’s. “This is how me, Papa, and Mimi take walks.”

Grant avoided glancing in Jenny’s direction. Anyone seeing the three of them together would jump to more conclusions than the clucking tongues last Sunday in church. He’d most likely read about it in the weekly Kahlerville Sun under the society column.

“Jenny, wait, please.”

The irritating voice of Aubrey Turner splattered on Grant like walking under a tree full of blackbirds.

She turned to face him but didn’t release Rebecca’s hand.

“Did you forget?” Turner said.

Confusion passed over her face. “Forget what?”

“Our stroll through town.” He smiled at Grant and patted Rebecca on the head, right atop her perfectly tied hair ribbon.

“We had nothing arranged.”

He laughed lightly. “You are so much like Jessica. She had problems remembering our special times, too.”

It didn’t matter that Jenny had chosen him and Rebecca over Turner. Grant simply wanted to be free of both of them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your plans,” Grant said. “We can do this another time.”

“Absolutely not.” Jenny’s eyes blazed, and crimson rose from the neck of her high-collared white blouse. “Mr. Turner, we did not have anything arranged, and I do not appreciate the claims that we did.” She met Grant’s gaze. “Shall we continue?”

“Then will you join me for the evening meal?” Turner said. “I am determined to have you accept my marriage proposal.” He nodded at Grant. “We could provide a fine home for Jessica’s daughter.”

Grant fought the urge to lay a fist alongside Turner’s face and toss him into a pile of horse manure. “You, sir, will never be a part of my daughter’s life.” He swallowed hard and took in the man’s tan suit, white gloves, and ruffled shirt. He belonged back East or, better yet, on a leaky riverboat.

“I see you aren’t in agreement with Jenny’s plans.” He turned to Jenny. “Dinner at seven?”

“No, thank you,” Jenny said and walked to the door.

“You do not have to alter your plans for us,” Grant said once they were outside.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “We had no such arrangement. I loathe the man, but he insists upon making these outlandish statements and humiliating me.”

Turner’s lying about his dealings with Jenny stamped upon Grant’s mind. “Why does he do this?”

“I don’t know, but I’m beginning to feel frightened.” She shook her head. “It’s as though he’s trying to convince me that I’ve lost my senses.”

Maybe she was telling the truth. “Allow me to contact the sheriff and my brother on your behalf.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary. I believe he’s harmless, just persistent.”

“Someone who is harmless doesn’t follow a woman across the country.”

“I can handle Mr. Turner. I know exactly what to do.”

Can you? From the lines etched on her brow, he wondered if she spoke too rashly. Kahlerville had been birthed in the wilds with desperate men riding into town at whim. Grant’s precious daughter and a bit of a woman were no match for a potentially dangerous man.