A Promise to Believe in (6 page)

“I hate the fact that Rafe has brought in prostitutes,” Beth said, stretching to look out the kitchen window. She knew even though there was still plenty of light, it wouldn’t be long before the cowboys started whooping it up at the saloon. Several had already arrived and were no doubt starting their night of entertainment.

“The alcohol was bad enough, but now this,” Gwen replied as she pulled two perfectly roasted chickens from the oven. “I wonder if Mr. Bishop likes chicken. I never thought to ask.”

“I think you’ve done more than enough by allowing him to rent a room,” Lacy interjected as she stomped across the kitchen on her way out the back. “I think you should have sent him elsewhere.”

“Look, I don’t want him here any more than you do,” Gwen replied. She put the chicken aside and checked the vegetables that were simmering on the stove. Beth watched her sister’s meticulous attention to detail as she mixed in just a pinch of this and that. “I figure,” Gwen continued, “it’s best to allow him to be here, state his business, and then see him on his way. Otherwise, he might think we have something to hide.”

Lacy frowned as she picked up two water buckets. Beth was quite certain that none of this set well with her younger sister. “Yes, but he doesn’t want to talk with all of us present, which makes me think
he’s
the one with something to hide. He’s remained in his room all afternoon. I’m certain he’ll seek you out this evening.”

Gwen put her spoon aside. “Then perhaps you and Beth should make yourselves scarce. I might as well talk to him and send him on his way.”

Beth frowned. “How can we even be sure he
is
Harvey’s brother? He looks nothing like him.”

“He acts nothing like him, either. Harvey was always so sweet,” Lacy added.

“Why should he lie about that?” Gwen asked. “It’s not like Harvey had any wealth or hit it rich in the mines. Perhaps Mr. Bishop thinks that he did come into a fortune, but we can easily show him otherwise. And if he doesn’t believe us, we can point him to Virginia City and Norris. They can certainly vouch for the fact that Pa and Harvey never made much more in gold than saw us through from day to day. If Pa hadn’t sold his claim, we wouldn’t have even had the money to get started here. It’s not like we’re living a life of ease.”

“I doubt that means anything to Mr. Bishop. He’s obviously after something here. We just need to find out what that might be,” Beth reasoned. She checked the two dried apple pies and noted they were cool. “Should I take these over to Rafe?”

Gwen shook her head. “Let him come for them. I’ve seen several rough-looking characters make their way over there already. No sense putting ourselves in danger. If he happens to forget, we can always get Simon or Nick to take them.”

Beth nodded and went back to tending her biscuit dough. “I’ll get these in the oven if the chicken is done.”

“It is. Go right ahead. Lacy, please get the water, then see that the table is set. Don’t forget that Jerry and Patience Shepard are joining us for supper.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean Deputy Shepard is coming, as well,” Lacy said with obvious contempt in her tone.

“I don’t know if he is or not, but you might as well set an extra place just in case he does.”

Muttering, Lacy took herself out the back door while Beth straightened after placing the biscuits in the oven. She looked at her older sister and couldn’t help but feel a sense of protection. Gwen had seen them through so many bad situations and had tried her best to be a mother to Beth and Lacy, even though she wasn’t that much older than either of her siblings. Beth loved her for trying, though, and would have given her life to protect Gwen.

It seemed strange that it was just the three of them now. Pa had always been there for them, even if his wild dreams had taken them all over the country. Gwen was always encouraging Beth, who really only wanted to settle down in one place and stop all the travel.

Someday, we’ll stop moving,
Gwen had once assured Beth.
One day, we’ll have a real home.
And while the Gallatin House wasn’t exactly a real home, it was the closest Beth had known since her mother died, and she didn’t want to leave.

“Maybe Mr. Bishop thinks Harvey owned part of this establishment,” Gwen said rather absentmindedly. She was now endeavoring to make coffee and had just put in twice as much as needed when Beth managed to stop her.

“Why don’t you let me see to this,” she more stated than questioned. “I know Pa said not to make the coffee too weak, but this strength would even cause Pa to reconsider his declaration.”

Gwen only then seemed to notice what she’d done. “Oh no! I’m sorry. It’s just . . . well . . . that man has me so flustered.”

“I know,” Beth replied sympathetically. “Do you have any idea what he might be looking for?”

“None at all. You know how it was when Harvey came to us. He had that battered-up suitcase with his only change of clothes and little else. If Mr. Bishop thinks he had something of value, he’s much mistaken.”

“Could he maybe just need information?”

Gwen met Beth’s eyes. “There’s precious little of that, as well. After all, if what Mr. Bishop is telling us is true, then Harvey fabricated a great deal. Any information I could offer would be tainted by that.”

A knock sounded on the front door and was soon followed by a woman’s voice calling out in greeting.

“It’s Mrs. Shepard,” Beth declared. “You go ahead. I’ll take care of everything here. Lacy will be back in just a shake, and we’ll finish off the table.”

As Gwen exited the room, Lacy came through carrying heavy buckets of steaming water. “I’m going to have Nick look at those cart wheels. They’re getting looser all the time. I think I spilled more water than I managed to get back with.”

“Just pour it in the sink. The hot water will soak the pans nicely while we have our supper.” Beth placed the two roasted chickens on platters, then poured the drippings into a large cast-iron skillet and began to make gravy.

“I was thinking of having a soak out there later,” Lacy said as she managed the buckets. “Want to join me?”

“I don’t think it’d be a good time to do it. You know there are a lot of rowdies over at Rafe’s.”

“We can lock the gate. Pa built a high enough fence that no one is going to get much of a look. And if they do, we have our swimming clothes.”

“I know, but it’s still a risk. It’s always harder to keep the hot springs private when the saloon is busy. Let’s wait for a nice evening when there aren’t so many strangers around. For now, we really need the table set. The Shepards just got here a few minutes ago.”

“Oh goodness, I completely forgot about the table.” Lacy finished pouring the water in the sink before hurrying to the cupboard for the dishes.

“Look what Patience has brought us,” Gwen said as she entered the kitchen with the woman close on her heels.

“Butter and more cream!” Beth declared as she spied the items in her sister’s arms.

Patience, an attractive woman in her mid-forties, smiled. “I knew you could use it. I’d rather sell it to you than take it elsewhere. At least here I know it will be used for proper meals. I’d hate to tell you what Dave said he caught them doing with it at the saloon.”

Beth’s eyes widened as thoughts of her dime novels came to mind. Had she ever read about butter and cream being illicitly used?

“No, I think it best we not know,” Gwen commented as she put the items away. “We need more ice,” she said as she closed the icebox door. “I miss the times when we can just store it outside.”

“Yes, but then you’d have to cut more wood and worry about keeping the house warm enough for guests,” Patience reminded.

Beth thought Patience Shepard one of the few women she’d most like to pattern herself after. It was said that the mother of three had come from a wealthy eastern family who all but shunned her when she married beneath her social standing. Over the years, however, her parents had apparently seen fit to forgive her enough to take in Patience’s two youngest children—daughters who longed for civilization and finishing school. It had been hard for Mrs. Shepard to lose both her daughters at once, but they had made such a fuss, there seemed no other option. Even their father decided it would be in everyone’s best interest. The girls left for finishing school the previous fall and only recently sent a letter home indicating their intention to remain with their grandparents.

Beth poured the bubbling gravy into a gravy boat. “Have you heard anything from the girls?” She looked up to catch Patience’s frown and wished she’d refrained from bringing up the reminder of their absence.

“No. I expect a letter from my parents most anytime. They’ll tell me all the reasons why the girls should stay, and I’ll have little say in the matter. I suppose it’s their revenge for my leaving the way I did.”

Gwen put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “That’s nonsense. What parent would seek revenge on their child?”

Patience drew a deep breath. “Mine would. They were so bitter at my marrying Jerry and moving west. They didn’t approve when he was an accountant, but then when he turned rancher, that completely put us at odds. He might as well have announced that he was setting up a brothel.”

“He’s such a sweet man,” Beth said. “So gentle in spirit, and smart, too. He runs that ranch in better order than ten men with twice his experience.”

This made Patience smile. “Some days he makes enough mess for ten men. Between him, Dave, and the hands, I have more than enough to do, but I miss my girls.”

“Speaking of Dave,” Gwen said, glancing toward the dining room, “will he be joining us?”

“No. He told me he’d be busy.”

“Table’s set,” Lacy announced. “You want me to put some of the food out?”

“Yes,” Gwen replied. “Go ahead.”

Beth was already pulling the biscuits from the oven. “Don’t forget the mashed potatoes in the warming bin,” she called after Lacy.

Hank Bishop sat down to the table of strangers and nodded toward the only other man at the table. He extended his hand. “Hank Bishop,” he told the man.

“Jerry Shepard. Glad to meet you, Hank.” They shook hands. “Where are you from?”

“Back East,” Hank replied.

“I might have guessed. Patience and I were once from Springfield, Massachusetts.”

“I know the area,” Hank admitted. He offered nothing more. He knew they expected him to mention where he’d come from, but at this time he saw no need to.

“Jerry, would you offer the blessing?” Gwen asked.

They all bowed their heads as the man began to pray. Hank watched them in fascination. He hadn’t prayed in years—not since he’d been a young teen. He marveled at the casual way the woman referred to the older man. Seemed everyone out here just called each other by their given names.

“Amen.”

A murmuring of
amen
s followed. Did they somehow suppose that it blessed the food even more if they added their approval to the prayer?

“Hank, this is my wife, Patience. Our son, Dave, is one of the sheriff deputies in the area, and we have two daughters who are living in Springfield with their grandparents.”

Hank nodded. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Again, he could tell by the look of expectation on the faces around him that they waited for him to be more forthcoming with his background. And again, he disappointed them.

“And are you also in the business of the law, Mr. Shepard?”

“Call me Jerry. Everyone does. No time for formalities out here. We’re all far too dependent on each other to stand on social dictates. But in answer to your question, no. I ranch and raise a few head of dairy cows. Patience also has a nice number of chickens. In fact, we raised the birds that grace the table tonight. Sure smells good, Gwen.”

“Thanks. You might as well carve,” she instructed.

Jerry quickly went to work while Patience took a turn at asking Hank questions. “So what brings you to these parts, Hank?”

He clenched his jaw momentarily—a bad habit he had when trying to analyze a situation’s importance. “I had some family business.” He smiled ever so slightly and changed the subject. “I must say, this part of the country is quite beautiful. I took the train to Salt Lake City. I didn’t think much of the passing territories west of the Mississippi, but this valley has tremendous merit. What crops do they grow here?”

Patience smiled. Hank surmised she didn’t even realize she’d been refocused on a different line of conversation.

“Wheat and barley, mostly,” Patience replied.

“But not corn,” Jerry added. “There just isn’t good enough land or enough time to grow decent corn. Potatoes do quite well, however.”

“Yes. They grow very well in my garden.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Gwen declared. “I’ve tried for two years. I must not have your green thumb or talent for tilling.”

“Perhaps the mineral content in the ground create an inhospitable base for such things.”

“The mineral content?” Lacy asked, staring hard at Hank. “What has that got to do with it?”

Hank shrugged. “With the hot springs here, I thought perhaps the ground might have a higher concentration of minerals, such as sodiums and sulfates. Such materials can often aid or interfere with the growth patterns in a variety of vegetation. I propose that it might very well be the mineral content in the soil that impedes your sister’s efforts rather than some failing in her ability.”

“Oh,” Lacy said, clearly not expecting the depth of his answer.

“Are we too late for supper?” Nick asked as he and Simon snuck in from the kitchen.

Gwen laughed and took the matter in good nature. “Not at all. Lacy, please get another place setting. Since Dave isn’t joining us, we just need one more.”

Hank noted the ease in which she handled the matter. His own mother had held many a dinner party, and the care and meticulous effort that went into each event always took more time and staging than the party itself. Apparently in the West, things were done on a more casual basis.

Simon and Nick each took a seat while Lacy retrieved another setting. “You boys want coffee?” she asked as she positioned a plate and silverware in front of Simon.