Texas Mail Order Bride (22 page)

Cooper lay on his side with one hand propped under his head, studying Delta's face. To what did he owe the impact she'd made, not only in his life, but in those of Battle Creek's citizens?

This woman of vision, who'd grown up with so little, had given selflessly to everyone who touched her life. She'd endeared herself to this town in a huge way.

He couldn't answer for the rest, only for himself. He didn't deserve her. If he tried for the next fifty or a hundred years, he could never repay the trust and faith and love she'd shown.

Damn. He wished he could tell her he loved her.

He truly did love her. No question about that. But what good did it do to say the words if he couldn't offer the lifetime commitment that went with it? It wasn't fair to her.

Dear God! It would destroy his soul if he had to walk away from her or she from him.

He rose and leaned to kiss her closed eyelids that hid her thoughts. “You are indeed a woman of vision, you know. What an accurate name for your women's club. I'm so very proud of you and all you've accomplished. And in such a short time, no less. You took this town by storm and we haven't been the same.”

Delta opened her eyes and cupped his jaw. “I asked for nothing except a chance.”

“Darlin', your dream became everyone's.”

They talked more about her plans: the seed lending library and putting Abner Winchell in charge of it, the people who might apply for the school teaching position, and her desire to do something with the hotel.

“I've spoken with Mr. Lexington, but he's shown no inclination to fix up the Lexington Arms. That man frustrates me to no end,” Delta spewed.

“Where there's a will, there's a way. Have you thought about asking to become a partner? If you were part owner, he'd be less likely to turn down money for renovations. Two things I know about Lexington: he's miserly and he has his pride.”

“I've thought about that. I need to take it slow, though, like you suggested. If I go waving my money around and trying to buy up all the businesses in town, it'll only anger folks. I want them to be involved and feel pride of ownership in Battle Creek as a whole.”

Cooper tweaked her nose. “When did you get to be so smart?”

“Since you showed me the error of my ways?” Delta grinned.

It seemed ages ago since they'd argued over the women's club and shared that hug at Jenny's insistence. It had changed his life.

“And here I thought you weren't listening. You'll figure something out. I have faith in you.” Cooper lay back and wrapped his arms around Delta's soft curves. She laid her head on his chest. His heart swelled with contentment. “I could get spoiled very easily.”

“Me too.”

“Although the urge is strong to rush out to your new ranch, promise me you'll stay away. At least for now. It's too dangerous with Early running loose.”

“You don't know how hard it will be.”

“Promise,” he insisted.

“All right. I won't go out there.”

They slept at last. The predawn hours came much too soon. Cooper woke, remembering he'd told Rand and Brett to meet him at daybreak. He lifted Delta's hand from where it was splayed across his chest and eased out of bed. The respite hadn't been near long enough. As he dressed and buckled his gun belt, he resolved to try harder to find Early.

This would end. One way or another.

***

Delta opened her eyes and looked for Cooper. But he was gone. In fact, there was nothing except a few wrinkled bed sheets to indicate he'd even been there.

More stolen moments.

More sidestepping any talk of the future.

And more lonely days and nights ahead.

Throwing back the quilt, she rose and got ready to face the challenges that would come. She had several things on her agenda before lunch.

Four hours later, she located Abner Winchell sitting on his usual bench outside the hotel. Smiling, she sat down beside him. “How are you today, Mr. Winchell?”

“Right smart, I reckon. Been waitin' to see if'n you changed your mind 'bout things.”

“If you're talking about the seed library, no, I haven't. You would be the perfect one for the job. We need someone with your knowledge. I hear you had a farm before the war and kept your acres in cotton and tobacco. I hope you'll accept my offer.”

Abner squinted. “Does it pay?”

“I'm afraid it doesn't. But you'd do this town a great service. In addition, you'd get to spend your days talking to all sorts of folks. The seed library could become the hub this town revolves around. Please say yes.”

“Where would we put it? I'll need some space so I can organize the seeds. In the war, they put me in charge of the bullets and food.”

“Oh, Mr. Winchell, I didn't know you were experienced.”

His big, toothless grin stretched from ear to ear. “I won't tell if'n you won't. And call me Abner.”

Delta shook Abner's hand. “Deal. I was thinking we might set the library up in the abandoned feed store. It will be perfect. When we decide to stock the store, the seeds will fit right in.”

“That place is a wreck. Rats in it as big as my crutch.” He shuddered. “I hate rats.”

“I assure you, we'll get rid of them when we fix it up.” Along with all the other buildings. All of a sudden, the enormity of what she'd tackled settled like a ton of bricks on her shoulders. Whatever had she thought? That it would be easy? That she'd need no time for eating and sleeping? Or making love to Cooper?

“Then I reckon you got yourself a seed man.”

“Thank you, Abner. I'm glad you agreed to do it.”

Leaving Abner to his daily routine of watching the town, Delta paid a visit to Mr. Lexington. She found him at the Three Roses Café eating lunch. She recognized the same three-piece suit he always wore and his thick head of brown hair that stuck out in all directions like the quills of a porcupine. The thought crossed her mind that he might not own a comb. He frowned when he saw her headed his way.

“Hello, sir, may I join you?” She pulled out a chair at his table before he could reply. “I'd love to have a word with you.”

“I've already told you the answer is no.”

“I was hoping you'd reconsider.” Delta put her napkin in her lap and asked the waiter for a cup of bean soup.

“Well, I haven't, and I would appreciate it if you'd let me eat my lunch in peace.” He speared a bite of ham. “You women think you can railroad a man into doing what you want. Well, I've dug in my heels. Stay clear of my hotel.”

“Would you consider selling it?”

“It's not for sale,” he snapped. “If you want a hotel, build your own. You can afford it, I hear.”

Sudden sadness washed over her. If she followed his suggestion, it would only put him out of business. She didn't want that. Besides, then they'd have a bigger problem. The Lexington Arms would be vacant and a bigger eyesore than when it'd been operational.

“Are you married, by chance, Mr. Lexington?”

“Not anymore. She up and ran off with a traveling medicine show and I said good riddance.”

“Then you're still married, in my way of thinking.”

“Got one of those divorces, if it's any of your business,” he snapped.

“I'm so sorry.” Her soup came and she dipped her spoon into it. “Mr. Lexington, did you know your face has high color when you're upset? You really should watch that. It's bad for your health to get your temper up.”

“Oh…oh…don't you worry about that,” he spluttered.

Delta's brain whirled as an idea took root. It might be just the thing. Hurrying to finish her soup, she paid and left.

The next stop was Granny Ketchum's. The old lady was all smiles when she opened the door to see Delta.

“Oh, you're a sight for these poor eyes. Just this very morning when I was talking to my cat I told him that I sure would like to see you.” Granny moved aside to let Delta enter.

She kissed Granny's cheek and hugged her. “I've missed you. How have you been?”

“Feeling pretty puny these days, but I ain't one to complain.” Granny dropped into a chair and Delta took the one beside her.

“I feared you might be sick. Anything I can do?”

“Naw, I'm able to sit up and take nourishment.”

A grin curved Delta's lips. Though she was in Texas now, that saying was pretty universal. “I'm glad to hear it. Granny, I need your help.”

The woman leaned over to pat Delta's hand. “Jus' tell me what you need.”

“First, I should tell you that I figured out that you and Mr. Quigley wrote the letters to me pretending to be Cooper.”

“Oh dear.” Color rose to Granny's face. “You mad?”

“No. In fact, I should thank you. Those letters changed my life in so many ways. I owe you a debt of thanks. But that's not exactly why I'm here. I need help with George Lexington.”

She told Granny about how stubborn he was and at cross-purposes with Delta and her vision for the hotel. “I have this idea. I want to get him married. A wife could do wonders in helping us solve our problem.”

Granny chuckled. “You, my dear, are devious. Almost as much as me an' Quigley. A wife could be just the solution. Let her work her charms on ol' Lexington to get him to bend.”

“Absolutely. Would you know of a likely candidate?”

“We got a handful of replies from the newspaper ad for Cooper. One of them might travel here for the chance to marry up with the owner of a hotel.”

“I'm afraid we don't have time for a lot of letter writing. Perhaps you know of someone locally.”

“Well, the women 'round here have been picked over pretty good. But…Widow Sharp. Now there's a possibility. Not a blessed soul knows what she looks like, though, hiding behind that black veil like she does. Wore it when she got here an' it's still coverin' her face. She could have a big wart on the end of her nose, be missing her teeth, and cross-eyed for all we know.”

“She's a mystery, all right.” Delta's mind whirled. Could she talk the woman somehow into removing it?

“Those apple and cherry hand pies she sells to the Lily and Three Roses make your mouth water, so we know she can cook. A man likes a woman who can find her way around a kitchen.”

“When exactly did she move to town?”

“Let me see. Must've been about three years ago. It was along about the time I fell and busted my leg. Fact of the matter, I was laid up and missed all the excitement.”

“Oh my goodness. That sounds really painful. I'm sorry.”

Granny shrugged. “Things happen. It was an early wintry mornin' an' I stepped on a patch of ice. Went down like a sack of rocks.”

“Do you think that's what happened to cause Miss Winehouse to fall and break her heel?”

“Wouldn't be a bit surprised. Ice sure is slick.”

“Can you remember Widow Sharp's given name?”

Granny's forehead wrinkled in thought. “Cain't rightly recollect. Agatha? Agnes? Shoot, plumb forgot, ain't used it in so long. You might ask John Abercrombie. He might know.”

“Bless you, Granny.” Delta jumped up and hugged her. “I'll go ask him right now.” She had a good feeling about this, if only she could talk the widow into giving up her veil.

John glanced up and grinned when Delta entered the store. “About time you paid me a visit. Have good news. Emmylou has agreed to work for us. She starts tomorrow.”

“I'm so glad. Do you need me to help out today?”

“Nope, I can handle it. You need something?”

“Widow Sharp's given name. By chance, would you know it?”

“Sure do. She was my wife's best friend. Name's Clara.”

“How pretty. I'm just curious… Do you know why she wears that veil?”

“Nell swore me to secrecy. I promised not to breathe a word.”

Delta frowned. “It'll stay strictly between us. The answer will help me out with a problem.”

“I'm not one to betray a trust. I'm sorry.”

Resting her hand on his arm, Delta said quietly, “I understand. Could you tell me where Clara lives?”

“That's no secret.” He told her and she left.

The neat house had a white picket fence around it. Delicious smells wafting from inside told Delta the widow was making pies. She rapped on the door.

Clara Sharp answered the knock, wiping her hands on her apron. “Miss Dandridge, what a surprise.”

“Mrs. Sharp, I realize we barely know each other but I have something to discuss, if you can spare a moment of your time.”

“I hear congratulations are in order. The whole gossip mill is buzzing about your sudden windfall.”

“Thank you. I'm still getting used to it. May I come in? That is, if I'm not interrupting you.”

“I just finished taking the last of my pies out of the vat of grease. Please come in. I apologize for my lack of manners. And please…the name is Clara.”

The small parlor was handsomely furnished. The rich blues, golds, and browns blended together perfectly. A painting of a country garden added to the pleasant, warm atmosphere. Clara Sharp had the eye of an artist. And frankly it surprised Delta. She'd expected darkness from a woman who wore a veil even indoors.

Delta took a seat in a comfortable chair. “I came hoping you might accept an invitation to dine with me. I'd like to get better acquainted. All I know about you is that you make mouthwatering hand pies. They're out of this world.”

“Thank you for the compliment. You're too kind.”

When Clara's veil fluttered, Delta knew the woman had smiled.

“Tell me how you got started making them.”

“My mother told me about them. She got the idea to make them when President Franklin Pierce was in office. He called them fried pies and ate them very often.”

“We had something very similar in Georgia, only we called them crab lanterns. So your mother taught you to make them?”