A Chance at Love

  “He’s from Ireland.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean,” she replied.

  “Does everybody in Ireland talk funny like him?” Bebe asked.

  “Yep, they do.”

  Bebe said, “I’m glad we live in Kansas.”

  Jake drawled, “Me too.”

  Loreli shot him a look. If she couldn’t convince Trevor to leave town, Loreli envisioned a very rocky day ahead. Having both Trevor and Jake under one roof would be like having two roosters strutting around trying to out crow each other, and she had neither the time nor inclination to play peace officer. But, she supposed, she could always bring in Elvira again if things got out of hand. Satisfied she went back to her ice cream.

  Trevor didn’t make an appearance until a bit after the noon hour. Like Jake, Trevor had to move slowly and carefully due to his injuries from the brawl. Jake, seated on the back porch nursing his own pains, looked up at Trevor’s entrance and cracked, “Well, glad you could join us. My bed that comfortable?”

  “No,” Trevor tossed back, and eased himself down into a chair. “I’ve slept on softer logs.”

  Jake smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “Is there any food to eat, not that I can eat anything with these loose teeth.”

  Jake, watching Loreli and the girls jumping rope across the yard said, “You’ll heal. Loreli fed the girls ice cream for breakfast.”

  “Ice cream?”

  “Yep.”

  Trevor smiled. “She would, though. Never conventional, that Loreli.”

  Jake shook his head. “Has nothing to do with convention. Loreli just can’t cook.”

  “Really?”

  Jake turned and surveyed him. “Thought you knew her?”

  “I do, but cooking has never come up. Why would I care? We always ate in restaurants or places where the food came to the table already prepared.”

  “Must be a nice life having folks waiting on you all the time,” Jake commented.

  “It is,” Trevor said. “Having to look after one’s self all the time can be trying.”

  “Never bothered me.”

  “Is Loreli actually jumping rope?” Trevor asked, finally noticing what Loreli and the girls were doing.

  “That she is.”

  “Good lord. What’s come over her?”

  “Nothing. They’re just having fun.”

  “Fun is playing poker or going to the London theater. Fun is not skipping rope.”

  “In Kansas it is.”

  For a moment there was silence. “She isn’t going to stay here, you know,” Trevor told Jake.

  “I do,” Jake replied.

  The men’s eyes met.

  “She and I have already discussed it,” Jake told him.

  “You can’t force her to stay.”

  “I know that too. I won’t try and stop her.”

  Trevor peered into Jake’s swollen face. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

  “You doubted it?”

  Trevor sat back in his chair as if confused. “I’m not sure what I thought. I just knew I had to come and see what this was all about. She’s never given her heart before.” He looked at Jake as if seeing him for the first time. “Why you?”

  Jake asked, “Why not me?”

  “Because.”

  “Because what, I raise hogs and grow corn for a living?”

  “Frankly, yes. In my world, she’s known as the Ice Countess. She’s turned down suits by Spanish princes, Haitian dukes…”

  “Here, she’s just Loreli. Maybe those other fellows should’ve had twin nieces.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Never mind,” Jake said.

  “Well, it defies understanding.”

  Jake watched as Loreli took the end of the rope from Bebe so that Bebe could have a turn jumping. The happiness on Loreli’s face as she and Dede recited a singsong rhyme filled his heart.

  “It sure does,” Jake replied.

  Chapter 15

  While Loreli turned the rope, she could see Jake and Trevor talking on the porch. Hoping a renewed bout of fisticuffs wasn’t about to break out, she kept one eye on them and one on her rope turning. Once it appeared that the men were behaving themselves, she relaxed.

  When the game was over, the girls ran off to resume their never-ending jacks battles and Loreli walked over to the porch. “Afternoon, Trev.”

  “Where I come from, this time of day is called morning,” he drawled.

  She smiled. He was right. Before joining the wagon train, she’d never gotten out of bed before noon. Rising late was standard fare for those who lived life at night. “Well, here in Kansas, it’s noon. Have you eaten?”

  “Had some ice cream.”

  “Good.” She looked at Jake. “Today would be a good day to start looking for a cook.”

  “We don’t need a cook.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “No, we don’t,” Jake repeated firmly.

  Loreli wasn’t going to argue further. “Okay, well, I’ll just hire a cook for me and the girls. You want anything while I’m in town?”

  “Not if it involves hiring help.”

  “Fine.”

  The stubborn set of his chin told Loreli that he was not going to change his position. Well, she had no plans to change hers either. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed household help so he could be free to handle the other aspects of his life, like the organizing and his Republican party commitments. Lord knew, Loreli didn’t see herself as household help, and since the girls couldn’t eat ice cream every time he got injured or was unable to function as the house chef, she was going to hire someone. “Well, I’m going to change clothes and drive into town. I’ll go and see if the girls wish to go with me.”

  And she left.

  Jake watched her stride away. “She’s going to hire someone anyway, isn’t she?” he said to Trevor.

  “Do you raise hogs?” Trevor tossed back.

  Jake sighed with resignation. “I need more ice cream.”

  Trevor smiled. “Bring me another bowl too.”

  The girls decided they’d rather play with Emily’s new kittens than accompany Loreli, so she drove into town alone. She had no idea if she’d be able to find someone to hire, but she had to at least ask around. She also knew that with all the gossip flying over yesterday’s melee, folks might be expecting her to be too ashamed to show her face, but she planned to set that to rest right now. She wasn’t ashamed because she had nothing to be ashamed of.

  She parked her rig in front of the livery, then stopped inside to take out another week’s lease on the vehicle. The squat gnome-like woman behind the counter looked Loreli up and down in a distasteful way, then asked, “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for Mr. Quaig.”

  “Bailey’s gone. Won’t be back till Sunday.”

  “Well, I’m—”

  “I know who you are.”

  Loreli raised an eyebrow. “But I don’t know you.”

  “Ruth Ann Quaig. Bailey’s sister.”

  “Ah, well, I came to pay Mr. Quaig for another week’s use of the buggy.”

  “It ain’t for rent anymore.”

  Loreli paused in her search for her coin purse. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, it ain’t for rent. He promised it to someone else.”

  Loreli took a slow look around the large barnlike structure and in the corner saw the two other buggies that had been here when Loreli first came to town. “Why can’t they have one of those?”

  “’Cause, he promised them yours.”

  “Then I suppose I’ll take whatever you have left.”

  “They’re promised too.”

  Loreli studied the woman. Loreli understood now. “I see. Well, how about this?” Loreli began searching through her handbag. She took out a double eagle and held it up so the gnome could see the Liberty head with its coronet on one side, and the eagle on i
ts back. The woman’s eyes widened just as Loreli knew they would. A double eagle was worth twenty dollars. With the country in the midst of yet another depression, twenty dollars was a fortune in a backwater like this one. A woman of Ruth Ann’s status could go her entire life and never amass twenty dollars in hand. “Do you think your brother would mind my buying that horse and buggy?”

  Ruth Ann’s beady eyes were fixed greedily on the coin. Loreli could sense the woman being tempted by what it could buy. Even if Ruth Ann only gave her brother half the value, she would still be farther ahead than she’d probably ever been before.

  The woman stuck out her palm.

  Loreli placed the coin on it, then headed for the door, tossing back, “Nice doing business with you, Ruth Ann.”

  There was no reply.

  As Loreli headed up the walk to the sheriff’s office, she thought twenty dollars a small price to pay to never have to see Ruth Ann Quaig again. It also saved Loreli the bother of having to come into town and pay the weekly livery bill. She now had her own vehicle. The buggy wasn’t new, the horse either for that matter, but they would suit her just fine while she was here.

  This being Sunday, there weren’t that many folks out and about. Loreli guessed a good portion of the citizens were still in church having their spirits lifted by the Reverend Appleby’s scorching sermons and their ears fried by Victoria Diggs’s mirror-cracking voice. Most of the businesses were closed, but that didn’t stop people from window shopping or shooting daggers her way as she passed by.

  She entered the sheriff’s office to ask if he might know of anyone to hire. He was writing down a message at the telegraph machine. He keyed a short reply, then pushed his chair back. When he noticed Loreli, he stood and greeted her with a wary smile. “Are you still mad?”

  “Yes, and no.”

  He grinned, “Never seen so many men run so fast. Maybe the town should elect you sheriff when I retire.”

  Loreli’s eyes showed her amusement. “Only if I can deputize Elvira.”

  He laughed. “You and Jake set a new date?”

  “No. Maybe once he can eat solid food again, we can talk about it.”

  He shook his head. “So what can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking to hire a cook. Do you know of anyone?”

  He thought a moment. “Can’t say as I do, but I’ll ask around.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Oh, by the way, wire came in for you last night.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, was going to send somebody out to deliver it to you today, but since you’re here—hold on, let me get it.”

  He returned with the paper in hand. Loreli read the words: Hope everything I sent with Trevor arrived safe. He promised to guard paintings well. Olivia.

  Loreli found the note confusing. Trevor hadn’t mentioned her paintings. Even knowing Trevor the way she did, Loreli wasn’t sure if she should be alarmed by Olivia’s message or not. Maybe he’d simply forgotten to tell her. In light of the fight he’d had with Jake, she found that highly possible.

  Loreli put the wire in her handbag. “Thanks, sheriff. Let me know if you hear of anyone who might want the job, and I’ll let you know when the next wedding date will be.”

  “That’s a deal.” Then he added, “Speaking of deals. We’re playing poker tomorrow evening at nine. You want to sit in?”

  “I think I just might. If I’m not here by the time you start dealing, you’ll know I’m not coming, but I will try and make it.”

  “Good.”

  She left him with a smile and a wave. Loreli could already imagine Jake’s reaction when she told him she was going to play poker, but she’d deal with that when the time came.

  Since her friend Fanny lived in town, Loreli walked down to her house. She wanted to thank her for her help with the wedding preparations, but no one answered Loreli’s knock so she turned around and went back the way she’d come.

  Her walk back to the livery took her past Millie Tate’s dress shop. The shop was closed and Loreli was glad to know she wouldn’t have to cross paths with Millie today. However, Millie stepped out onto the walk just as Loreli cleared the doorway, and called out, “Miss Winters? Is Trevor still in town?”

  Loreli sighed and stopped. She turned back. “Hello, Miss Tate…”

  Loreli’s words trailed off as she took in the beautiful pearl-edged brooch Millie was wearing on her faded green dress. “My, what a beautiful brooch.”

  Millie’s eyes filled with panic and she hastily placed her hand atop the brooch. “You weren’t supposed to see it.”

  Loreli now had a better understanding of Olivia’s wire. “Did Trevor give that to you?”

  “Yes, last evening, and he said I wasn’t to let you see it because you’d only get jealous.”

  “Oh, really. I don’t see why I should be jealous over a brooch I own!”

  Millie jumped a foot in the air.

  “Yes, Millie, that brooch is mine,” Loreli said. “Did he give you anything else?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Angry, Loreli held out her hand. “Give me the brooch.”

  Millie drew back. “I most certainly will not. This was a gift.”

  “Give me my damn brooch, Millie.”

  “No, and that’s that. What are you going to do, shoot me?”

  Loreli reached into her handbag and pulled out her pearl-handled derringer. She pointed it at Millie and said calmly, “Yes.”

  Millie’s eyes went moon-wide, then her fingers began fumbling with the clasp on the brooch. Her anger quite plain, she slapped the brooch into Loreli’s outstretched palm.

  Loreli’s eyes glowed coldly. “Now, the other things he gave you. Where are they?”

  With her attention glued on the gun, Millie replied weakly. “Inside.”

  “Show me.”

  Millie nervously put the key in the door lock and Loreli followed her into the shop. Millie went over to a desk and opened a drawer. She came back to Loreli bearing a pair of diamond-stud earbobs that Loreli also found very familiar. Loreli took her property and slipped it in the side pocket of her riding skirt. “He didn’t give you anything else?”

  Millie shook her head. “No, just the brooch and the studs.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re every bit the tramp folks say you are,” Millie said nastily.

  “No, I’m more.” And to prove it, Loreli pulled the trigger and put a bullet in a hat perched on one of the forms, sending the hat flying and Millie went into a whimpering crouch.

  Loreli turned and left.

  By the time Loreli got back to the Reed place, she had steam rolling out of her ears. She couldn’t decide whether to shoot Trevor before or after demanding an explanation. Surely Olivia hadn’t trusted him to bring Loreli’s jewels to Kansas, had she? And where were the paintings? Loreli had no answers to either question right now, but as she got out of the carriage and stormed into the house, she planned on getting some. Quick.

  “Trevor Church!” she bellowed.

  Jake came in from the back porch. He took one look at her furious face and hoped and prayed that anger wasn’t aimed at him.

  “Where’s Trevor?” Loreli said.

  “Lying down.”

  Without another word, Loreli headed to Jake’s room.

  He was indeed lying down, but at her noisy entrance he sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes widened at the sight of the derringer in her hand.

  “What did Olivia give you to bring to me?” Loreli asked.

  “What do you mean?” he answered.

  Loreli looked over at the tight-jawed Jake. “Where are the girls?”

  “Outside.”

  “Make sure they stay there, please. Trevor and I need to talk.”

  Jake had no idea what the Irishman had done to earn Loreli’s wrath, but Jake left the room to check on the girls, glad not to be in Trevor’s shoes.

  Once Loreli and Trevor were alone, she s
aid to him, “Now, again, what did Olivia give you of mine?”

  She spotted his saddlebags beside the bed. “Open your bags and dump them onto the floor.”

  “Loreli—”

  “Dammit, Trevor. I just reclaimed a brooch of mine from Millie Tate. Do not make me waste a bullet on you.”

  Trevor got the message. He picked up the bags and dumped them onto the floor. Out rolled personal items such as his razor and shaving brush, but she was more interested in the black velvet pouch that lay beside them. That was very familiar as well. Still holding the derringer on him, she stooped and picked up the pouch. “Where are the paintings?”

  Jake reentered the room, but Loreli paid him no mind. “The paintings, Trev?”

  “Sold them.”

  It was her turn to stare with widened eyes, “You sold them? Which ones did you have?”

  “A couple of Bannisters, and—”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “You sold my Bannisters!” she fairly screeched.

  Trevor shrugged, “Well, yes, lass. I figured you wouldn’t mind once you found out what dire straits I’m in.”

  “I don’t care about your straits. You had no right!”

  It had taken Loreli years to find those two paintings. Edward Bannister’s Under the Oaks won first prize at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition held in ’76. When the exhibition committee learned of Bannister’s race, they tried to withdraw the prize, but were forced to honor the oil painting and its creator anyway. The second painting, Sabin Point, Narragansett Bay, was also critically acclaimed. “How much of my jewelry did you sell?”

  “None. I gave the brooch and the studs to the lovely Mildred for her tender assistance yesterday, but the rest is still rolled in the cloth.”

  Loreli asked critically, “And when were you going to tell me you had my jewelry?”

  Silence.

  “You weren’t, were you.”

  He tried to explain. “Loreli, look, I ran into a string of bad luck, and the folks I owed didn’t want to wait. I’m flat busted, lass. I don’t have a half penny to my name.”

  “So you sold my paintings.”

  “Yes.”

  “To whom?”

  “A fence in Philadelphia.”

  “And I don’t stand a chance of retrieving them.”

  He shook his head. “No.”