Whirlwind (22 page)

Daniel decided they would see to another task once Millicent completed her inventory. Though the telegraph office was a mere stone’s throw away, it would make for a pleasant stroll. They could go together and get some fresh air. That might help cool her temper a bit, too.

Or so he thought. As they walked down the boardwalk, Daniel realized once again his bride wasn’t at all like his first wife. Millicent was neither biddable nor predictable. He could say something about the necessity of adherence to schedule, but she’d worked with remarkable speed to tally the number of cans of every conceivable fruit and vegetable. Surely that meant she’d taken his lesson to heart. “I discovered last evening why there aren’t any men’s shoes in the store. See Matteo’s place just to the left? He specializes in custom leatherwork—boots for men and boys, saddles, and the like.”

Millicent gave him a sideways glance.

“His carrying saddles and boots is to our advantage. Those items take up significant space.”

She gave him a tiny nod as he opened the door to the telegraph office. “Good day, Clicky!”

Alarmed, Daniel asked, “Have you met?”

“Your son introduced us.” Clicky grinned. “How may I help you?”

“Sending out orders to stock the store.” Daniel handed over the papers.

Scanning the first slip, Clicky pulled the pencil from behind his ear. “I need blue jeans something awful. Stauffer, Toomel, a couple of cowboys on the Forsaken ranch, and me all wear the same size. Do you mind if I add on another two pair to this order just for myself?”

“Please do.” Millicent broke into a smile. “It was kind of you to inform us that the store needs to stock more in that size. In addition to the two pair for yourself, please add on another pair. We’re happy to take requests, Clicky. Is there anything else you’d like?”

“Just the jeans, thanks.”

She’s turned chatty again—proof that she indulged in a childish snit. I can’t conduct business if I have to mollycoddle her
. The one extra pair of jeans would suffice, but Daniel decided to make a point. “Make that three additional pair, Clicky.”

“Good, good.” Clicky was already looking at the next sheet of paper. His head shot up. “Dan, you have shovels and rakes and such on here.”

“From the fine gardens I’ve seen, I’ll need to supply gardening implements.”

Clicky grimaced. “Since Orville took over the feedstore, he’s started selling shovels, hoes, rakes, and spades there. We all figured he’d arranged that with you; but he didn’t, did he?”

More betrayal. Daniel jutted his chin toward the orders. “Send off the orders as they’re written with the exception of those items. I’ll be back later with the next batch and tell you what I’ve determined.”

Millicent arranged the spices alphabetically. They made more sense that way—or did they? What was the difference between black pepper and cayenne pepper? Peering around the corner, she established that Daniel was busy taking stock of the rifles, guns, and ammunition. Good. Well, maybe not good. After how he’d discovered Orville had double-crossed him again, Daniel had ample cause to be livid.
Lord, don’t let him do anything rash
. The best thing she could do was keep her husband busy. She’d been upset earlier, but all that faded in light of what they’d learned. Her husband needed her support. If he ran out of things to do on his list, she’d started thinking of things she could add.

Back to the spices. Peppers. A little twist, and the top of one tin came open. Brick red?! Cayenne pepper was brick red and it smelled . . . she took a whiff and her eyes started to water. Texans could enjoy that vile spice—she’d gladly do with ordinary black pepper. Unless it wasn’t the same as what they’d had back in England. Millicent opened that tin, as well.

One sniff and she started sneezing.

“God bless you.”

“Thank—
chooo!
—you.” Closing the tin, she started to laugh at herself. She should have expected to—A brace of three more sneezes tore from her.

“Bless you. Here.” Daniel appeared holding a dipper of water and a handkerchief. “You’ve worked too hard and are taking ill.”

“Stacking spices wouldn’t overtax a toddler.” She accepted the water, took a sip, and held the dipper up for him to have the rest. “I am sick at heart, though. You turned the other cheek when Orville cheated you regarding the store. We’ve not spoken of it, and I’ll not say anything of it again—but the truth was plain. There’s nothing more shameful than for a man to betray his own family. Learning that he’s trying to steal part of the business that he sold to you—it’s enough to crack a heart of stone.”

Daniel’s brows furrowed. He took the handkerchief and pressed it to her nose. “It’s over and done with. There’s no use in becoming so distraught. Come sit down.” Millicent tried to take the handkerchief, but he nudged her hand away. “You’ve worked yourself straight into a nosebleed.”

Nosebleed?
The cayenne!
Nervous giggles spilled out of her. “It’s nothing, I assure you.” She grabbed the hanky, dabbed away the evidence, and presented her face again. “See? Now back to the important matter. You’re a man of integrity; your cousin is nothing but a scoundrel. It must have been terrible, learning the truth. But as the Bible says, the truth will set you free. Sooner or later others will see him for what he is. In the meantime, I’m steadfast on your side.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is! What kind of wife do you take me for?” She held up a hand. “Don’t answer that.”
Not after the way I behaved earlier.
She ticked off others on her fingers. “You have me, Isabelle, Mrs. Orion, and Clicky, but most of all, you have God. So don’t be disheartened.”

“Stop fretting, wife. From his conduct, I’d surmise Orville isn’t walking with the Lord. He’s a man to be pitied. So how are you doing with the spices?”

She flashed him a smile. “They took my breath away.”

Daniel forced a chuckle as he walked off.

After she finished the spices, Millicent consulted her list and let out a sigh of relief. Soaps, laundry soap, toiletries—she knew about those. Walking toward that area in the store, Orville’s betrayal still weighed heavy on her heart. “Daniel? Are you going to just let Orville sell the rakes, hoes, and shovels?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to let him do.”

Millicent wheeled around. “Orville can’t stop you from selling them, either, can he?”

“No.”

“So if yours are better quality and cost less . . .”

Daniel motioned toward the sparse supply presently in the store. “Those are nothing more than passable.” Tapping his pencil on a small leaflet, he stated, “I’m ordering the best.”

Millicent looked at the soap, then at her husband. “Daniel, counting bars of Pears and Ivory will have to wait. I have a wonderful idea!”

The rocker’s rhythm faltered, then stopped as Phineas rounded the corner and climbed the back steps to the veranda of the Stauffer farmhouse. Hectic color filled Annie’s cheeks, and she didn’t meet his eyes. Johnny’s lusty grunts and gulps from beneath the shawl explained why. In the six weeks since she’d had him, Annie had nursed her son up in her bedchamber whenever Phineas was around. Catching her unaware embarrassed her. Sweeping off his straw hat, Phineas let out a low whistle. “It’s hotter today than I expected. Far hotter.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about, Annie.” He walked up the steps. “You didn’t make it hot.” She apologized for the least little thing—even though it wasn’t her fault. Her husband had torn down her spirit to a distressing degree, but Phineas didn’t want to rob her of the privacy she’d sought when Jakob rescued her. Until recently, Phineas had had to act as if he knew nothing about how she’d been mistreated. Finally he felt free to give her the assurances he’d had to withhold. “Days like this make me grateful for a light breeze, the shade of the porch, and a tall glass of that sweet tea you and Hope always keep on hand.”

“I’ll get you—”

“No, I’ll get my own glass. Would you care for a glass, too?”

Her eyes went huge. “It is not done. The woman serves the man.”

Smoothing her shawl over her shoulder, Phineas gave her a tender smile. “You are serving a man, Annie—your sweet little man-child. I’d be a selfish wretch if I demanded a mother set aside her hungry babe to get me something I could easily fetch for myself.”

“You should not have to—”

“Ah, but Annie, I want to.” He longed to touch her. “I have no family, yet you have all welcomed me into your home and at your table. The very least I can do is make allowances for you to mother your son.” Running his fingers along the smooth oak arms of the chair, he grinned. “It is fitting—you suckling your son here. The night you gave birth to him, I sat in this very chair, praying to the heavenly Father to grant you His mercy and compassion. To have you here with Johnny now is God’s way to remind me He answered my prayer. Ja, He did—above and beyond all I could ever ask or think, because Johnny is the finest baby I’ve ever known.”

Annie drew in a sharp breath. “You cared for many babies before the orphan train brought you . . .”

“Ja, so I know. Almost two years I took care of babies. Our Johnny is beyond compare. Surely God has done a great work.” Johnny shifted beneath the shawl and snuffled. “Now I’m getting some tea. Would you like a glass, too?”

Her lips formed the word
please
but no sound came out.

“I’ll be right back.” The screen door slammed behind him, and he started toward the icebox.

Hope grabbed his hand, squeezed, and whispered, “Jakob told me you were wantin’ to court. I’m happy as a lamb over it.”

Footsteps sounded, so she raised her voice. “Hey there, Phineas. Can I get you something?”

“I’m grabbing some sweet tea for Annie and myself. Would you care for a glass?” He set another glass on the counter for her.

Emmy-Lou came in with a kitten under each arm. “Mama, Daddy said I could keep one kitty. He forgot about Aunt Annie’s baby. It isn’t fair if I get a kitty and Johnny doesn’t. He can have the boy kitty, and I can have the girl.”

Sitting on the floor, Hope pulled her daughter onto her lap. “We need to be sure animals go to good homes. Johnny’s just a baby. He could pull a kitten’s tail or poke out its eye without meaning to.”

“I wouldn’t let him, Mama.”

“We’d all be careful, but that’s not the only thing. You talk of fairness. You just had your birthday. Don’t you think Johnny should have to wait until his fifth birthday to have his very own kitten? That would be fair. Isn’t that right, Phineas?”

The rest of the litter was spoken for. Only one kitten didn’t yet have a home. Hope was being a good wife and backing up her husband’s decision. The least he could do was agree. He set down the pitcher. “That’s a fact.”

The screen door opened and Annie came in. She stared at the kittens. “They are brother and sister. The sister doesn’t want to go away. She feels safe with her brother. Happy.”

“It’s not the sister, Aunt Annie. I’ll keep her. It’s the brother that has to go away.”

Phineas strode over and picked up both kittens, which had started to frolic on Hope’s green skirts. “They were born in the barn, and I check on them first thing each morning and last thing before I go to bed at night. So helpless at first, and now look at them.” He chuckled as the all-white female climbed across his shirt and poked her nose between the buttons. The male kept trying to bite his fingers. “Sometimes a brother and sister are meant to stay together. You know, I think everyone else in Gooding was offered a kitten. I wasn’t. But I’m going to take one.”

“You are?!” Annie, Hope, and Emmy-Lou exclaimed in unison.

“Of course I am.” He handed the female back to Emmy-Lou, then picked up a glass of sweet tea and pressed it into Annie’s hand. He glanced at the kitten in his hand, then at the child in her arms. “In my heart, there’s lots of room to love a baby boy.”

Fawnhill Academy regrets to report Eberhardt children no longer in attendance.
Daniel crumpled the latest telegram in disgust.

The previous evening, Clicky had delivered a new telegram from the butler. Daniel hadn’t had the heart to show it to Millicent, even though it was intended for her.
Felicitations upon marriage. Personal assurances girls fine. Alastair.

The subterfuge and maneuvers obscured his ability to ensure the children’s welfare. In the world of business, strategies were part of the game; but Daniel had no tolerance for ruses now. The butler had pointedly omitted sending the guardian’s identity. Nellows hadn’t reported in, so questions abounded. Had the guardian taken the girls? If so, where? Millicent would be desolate if she lost touch with Audrey and Fiona.

Just after eight the next morning, Clicky sauntered into the store. “I’m hankering for some lemon drops.”

Millicent stopped arranging kerosene lanterns and went to the candy jars. “As busy as we’ve kept you, it’s the least we can do.”

Clicky slipped a telegram to Daniel while her back was turned, then went over and distracted her with an idle conversation for a few minutes.

Daniel turned and read Nellows’ message.
Girls removed from Fawnhill. Whereabouts unknown. Several irregularities in murder case. Proceeding with all speed and caution.

It would be far too dangerous to keep the telegram in the store or even in his pocket. Daniel scribbled a reply. As Clicky left, Daniel handed him both pages. “I’m glad you stopped by. We came to the startling realization that there isn’t a single Bible in stock.”

“I’ll take care of things right away.”

“I’m depending on you.”

“There!” Millicent stepped back from the decorative bunting on the counter, scurried toward a shelf, and swiveled a few jars so the labels lined up just so. Next, she disappeared around the corner and reappeared with a spool of scarlet ribbon. It fluttered behind her like a banner. “We need to put a ribbon on Hope’s bag of pecans. Oh! And I just had an idea.”

“An idea?” Daniel removed the shears from the cutting table and handed them to her. He didn’t trust her not to go running off with them. “Like the one where we painted the gardening tools bright colors and branded them with the store insignia you designed so neighbors can borrow them for free?”