Authors: Johanna Lindsey
T
IFFANY HAD NO IDEA
what the gunfighter was insinuating about Hunter, but she had no trouble recognizing that he suspected she was lying about having a fiancé. She felt like laughing because, ironically, she was being completely truthful in that regard. Jennifer had a fiancé and so did she! She pretended to take offense at his even broaching a matter this personal with her. Quickening her step and walking away from him sufficed to let him know that. She hoped. While she’d have no difficulty upbraiding anyone else for such impertinence, she wouldn’t tempt fate and do so with a man who reeked of danger.
But there was no getting rid of Degan Grant. He followed close behind her, though he did wait outside when she entered the hotel. After she asked the clerk where she could find her friend Anna Weston, she got her annoyance under control before she knocked on Anna’s door. Unfortunately, it came right back with the first thing Anna said to her.
“You’ve come to your senses? I knew you would.”
“I’m just visiting to let you know how wonderfully my plan is going.”
“You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
Of course she was, but she didn’t intend to complain to Anna, so she avoided answering and said, “I’ve already learned a lot. There’s still bad blood between the Callahans and my family. That truce they have is tenuous at best. I have a feeling it won’t take much at all to break it. And there are some miners who might be trying to stir things up in that regard.”
“From the Harding Mine?”
“How did you know?”
“I met a Harding executive last night in the hotel’s dining room, a Mr. Harris. He seemed like a nice gentleman. His boss owns mines in Montana and elsewhere. It’s Mr. Harris’s job to travel between them to solve problems and make sure each mine is producing as expected.”
“I doubt the Nashart mine has turned out as expected for them.” Tiffany explained briefly what she knew about it. “If you should see Mr. Harris again, maybe you can find out what his boss plans to do, now that they aren’t getting access to all of the copper they came here for. But I don’t have much time in town today, so let’s talk while I look for a local seamstress.”
“That would be Mrs. Martin. I asked the clerk downstairs. You wouldn’t have found her otherwise because she doesn’t have a shop, just works out of her home. I can show you where it is.”
When they left the hotel, Degan was waiting for them. Tiffany knew it would be rude not to introduce Anna to Degan, but when she made the introductions, she only referred to Anna as a friend from the train trip and Degan as a worker at the Callahan ranch. She hurried Anna along when she saw how uncomfortable the gunslinger made Anna.
“Who
is
he?”
“I told you, he works at the ranch and he’s my escort today. You don’t have to whisper, he’s not following us that closely.”
Anna glanced back to make sure of that before she said, “Why haven’t you said anything about your fiancé yet? You have met him, haven’t you? Oh, and were they very annoyed when you told them you wouldn’t cook for them?”
Tiffany mumbled, “I’m going to cook.”
“You? In a kitchen?”
“Don’t make it sound so ridiculous.”
“But you don’t know how!”
“I intend to learn.”
Tiffany held up the book she’d purchased, then quickly stuffed it back into her reticule before Anna could see how thin it was. She couldn’t help wondering how much information it could contain if she could fit it in her purse. But she’d definitely surprised Anna.
“You’re really going to do this? I was sure you would have given up this notion of impersonating a housekeeper by now and demand to be taken to your father’s ranch.”
Anna might view her as a spoiled, pampered rich girl who’d never lifted a hand to help herself, but she was failing to take into account Tiffany’s stubbornness. “I’m not quitting and I
will
learn to cook. Besides, whether I hate my job or not, it’s still better than meeting my father.”
Anna shook her head sadly. “Is it really?”
Oh, God, Tiffany suddenly felt the urge to cry. She’d thought she was done with tears on
his
account. She glanced away without answering, concentrating on keeping the tears at bay. They had already turned onto a side street with small
houses on both sides, yet another stable farther down, and a quaint church at the end of the street.
Anna opened the fence gate at the second house they came to, then glanced behind them once more, apparently to make sure Degan was still maintaining a discreet distance, before she said, “You still haven’t mentioned Hunter Callahan.”
This
subject definitely quelled the urge to cry. “Because I’ve already found out that he’s a philanderer. He’s even trying to seduce me.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means he likes you.”
“You’re missing the point. He doesn’t know I’m Tiffany Warren, so it means he’s cheating on me! And I also saw him flirting with one of the Callahan maids today in town.”
“Why do you sound so indignant about it? You haven’t ‘officially’ arrived yet. Did you really think he would remain celibate all these years? It’s what happens after the marriage that counts, not before—well, not before the couple even meets.”
Tiffany could see the logic in what Anna was saying, but logic had no place in the welter of emotions she was experiencing. It was almost as if she considered Hunter to be hers, when she didn’t want that at all!
“I wonder if your two months in Montana have even begun yet,” Anna added. “As long as you’re pretending to be someone other than yourself, no courtship can commence.”
“My mother stipulated that time period for
me
to decide if I want to marry Hunter, not for him to decide if he wants to marry me.”
“But how is he going to woo you if he doesn’t know it’s you?”
Tiffany didn’t want to answer that because her answer
would be she didn’t want to be wooed, at least not in Montana. Her goal was to go home to New York so she could live a normal life, the life she’d been raised to expect. But she did have one other goal she hadn’t completely thought through yet, so she didn’t want to mention that either. She wanted to hear both families’ views of the feud to see if she could find a way to defuse it without having to marry a cowboy. In that she was thinking of her brothers’ safety, not just the promise she’d made to her mother.
When she didn’t answer, Anna pointed out, “You don’t have to pretend with these people, you know. So you don’t want to stay with a father you don’t know. Fine. But the Callahans are expecting you, too. They’ll be pleased to have you under their roof. Having been betrothed to the eldest son your whole life, you’re practically like family already.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes. “That negates my plan of getting to know what they are really like.”
Tiffany put an end to the irritating conversation by knocking on the seamstress’s door. Agnes Martin was a sweet old lady who led them into her parlor and offered them tea. Tiffany was surprised to find that she already knew Anna.
“Have you decided to work for my husband, Miss Weston?” was the first thing Agnes said.
“I’m still thinking about it, ma’am,” Anna replied, then blushed when Tiffany gave her a questioning look.
“Good, he could really use the help and—”
A gasp from the hall drew their eyes to a young man holding a broom. He was a little taller than Tiffany, but she could tell from his face and his scrawny physique that he was a few years younger than she was.
The seamstress was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, Andy,
I know you wanted that job, but my husband is too old to teach someone his trade. Miss Weston is already an experienced carpenter.”
Embarrassed, Agnes excused herself and left the room to get the tea. Tiffany, incredulous, asked the maid, “How did
that
come about? You’ve only been here a day!”
Anna grinned. “I explored the town yesterday after you left. I was passing the furniture store and heard the hammering inside. I love the smell of fresh-cut wood and couldn’t resist going in. The Martins were both there and we started talking. The moment I mentioned my father is a carpenter and that he taught me a thing or two, the owner offered me a job.”
“You’re not actually considering it, are you?”
“Do you know how rare it is for a woman to get offered a job like that? It would never happen back East. So, yes, I am thinking about it. It would give me something to do until you come to your senses.”
As Agnes was returning with a tea tray, Tiffany heard her say to her helper as she passed him in the hallway, “I don’t have anything else for you to do today, Andy, after you finish up the sweeping. You can check with me again next week.”
Tiffany, mindful that Degan was waiting for her outside, told the seamstress what she needed and was taken to the back room where Agnes worked. Although she only wanted a few skirts and blouses, and nightgowns, measurements still had to be taken and materials selected. She was too impatient to look through Agnes’s design books though and simply told her to make something suitable for kitchen work and offered to pay her extra if she could finish the order in just a few days.
Then it occurred to her to ask, “Does that boy need a job?”
Agnes nodded. “Indeed he does. He even mucks out the
stable in exchange for feed for his horse and a bale of hay to sleep on. He’s tried to obtain more gainful employment everywhere in town, but he’s not experienced in anything other than odd jobs, and there aren’t even many of those around here. I’ve been letting him do some of my own chores because I feel sorry for him.”
“Is he reliable? Trustworthy?”
“Yes, and polite, too. He arrived in town a few weeks ago. Hails from Wisconsin. He’s not a drifter, but I expect he won’t be around any longer than it takes him to earn enough to move on. He’s just not having any luck with that. Do
you
have a job for him?”
“I might, for a couple of months at least—but not if he’s going to leave before he barely gets started.”
Agnes shrugged. “Ask him. He came West to find his father, has been going from town to town looking for him, but some steady work might convince him that earning more’n his next meal for a while might help him achieve his goal. Let me fetch him for you before he leaves, and you two can figure it out. Oh, and if you’re interested in marriage, keep our sheriff in mind. He’s a good man. We’d hate to lose him just because he’s hankering for a wife and can’t find one here.”
Tiffany was
not
going to reply to that gossipy tidbit, but Agnes didn’t seem to expect her to, and a few moments later the lanky teenage boy, broom still in hand, came in to meet her. He had freckles, sandy-brown hair, and brown eyes. Tiffany understood now why he was so skinny—he probably wasn’t getting a meal every day, much less three. But he was presentable, clean, and Agnes must have told him he was going to be offered a job because he looked so eager.
Tiffany smiled at him. “I’m Jennifer Fleming.”
“Andrew Buffalo, ma’am,” he offered bashfully.
“Well, Andrew, I’ve been hired to cook at a ranch near here and I need a kitchen helper. The job doesn’t require experience, just hard work and diligence. Are you interested?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Tiffany was nearly as excited as the boy appeared. She had accomplished all of her errands after all. So much for Degan’s and Hunter’s both scoffing at her intention to find a helper.
But before she celebrated a victory she had to learn more about Andrew. “I do require that you keep the job for two months at least—or as long as I do.” When the boy nodded, she continued, “So tell me a little about yourself. Mrs. Martin said you came West to look for your father. Do you have reason to think he’s in Montana Territory?”
“Well, the last place he wrote from is a ghost town now. But that was several years ago. Heard the land up here is rich with ore. Figured he would have heard it, too, so I thought I should at least check some of the bigger mining towns like Butte and Helena. Just haven’t earned my way that far West yet.”
“He stopped writing?”
“Yeah, after the last of us kids were grown. I finally figured out he wasn’t coming home. Him and my ma never did get along. She never expected him to come back.”
“So you don’t know if he struck it rich, or—or if he’s even still alive?”
Andrew shook his head. “I don’t think he’s dead, but I don’t think he’s trying to strike it rich anymore either. His last letter was full of despair, said he got claim-jumped, that it was too dangerous to go it alone anymore, so he was going to mine for someone else.”
That was so sad, and Andrew’s mission seemed next to impossible.
The West was just too big a place to find his father if he had no trail to follow.
“You haven’t thought of giving up and going home?”
He grinned. “Yeah, I think of it each time my belly growls. I take work when I can find it, long enough to save up enough to hit the next town. I’d really like to at least see my pa once more before I go home, maybe beat the tar out of him for leaving us for something that never did pan out. I don’t know. Each time I think I’ve had enough, I get the gumption to go on. It’s not as if I’m needed back home. My sisters are married and my ma is fine, she’s a hatmaker with her own shop. But maybe my pa needs me.”
“You’re a good son, Andrew,” Tiffany said with a smile. “If you’re agreeable to my terms, gather your belongings and meet me at the restaurant for lunch. It’s my last stop before we return to the ranch.”
He gave her a big smile and rushed out of there so fast she nearly laughed. She rejoined Anna in the parlor, so pleased with her success she had to share it. But mindful that Degan might soon be banging on the door, she invited the maid to lunch.
Anna declined. “Agnes already asked me to share hers. Besides, do you really want your employers asking me questions over lunch?”
Tiffany winced. “No, I’ll see you in a few days then when I pick up my work clothes.”
“No wincing and no complaints.
You
can end this charade at any time.”
Tiffany walked away in a huff, and when she stepped outside, it wasn’t Degan sitting on the porch steps waiting for her. Hunter had taken his place.