The Bride's Prerogative (50 page)

Sterling returned Ethan’s gaze from beneath long lashes. “That’s right.”

“I’ve been inquiring all over the country, with some help of other folks here in town. Everything we’ve gotten back says Frank Peart has no living family.”

“Guess they missed me.”

Ethan nodded, more skeptical than ever. “And exactly how are you related to Frank?”

“My ma was his sister. She married and moved upstate. Hadn’t seen her brother for nigh on thirty years.”

“Uh-huh. And she’s deceased now?”

“That’s correct.”

Ethan scratched the back of his head. He’d received replies from New Jersey indicating Frank Peart had indeed had a couple of sisters, but both were deceased.

“I’m not sure you have a legal claim to Frank and Milzie’s land. But you’ll have to go to Boise and do a lot of paperwork if you plan to try to inherit it. They’ll expect you to prove your relationship to Frank. Can you do it?”

Sterling’s eyebrows lowered and his mouth tightened. “How’m I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m not an attorney. But I’ll tell you right now, you can’t just squat on the Pearts’ land and call it yours.” Ethan wasn’t sure what would happen to the land, but he had an impression the government was going to take it back. Not that the old mine was worth anything. But as sheriff of Fergus, he wouldn’t let just anyone waltz in and lay claim to it. Especially someone he suspected of lying.

“We’ll see about that.” Sterling stomped out, his spurs scraping the porch steps.

Ethan closed the door the cowboy had left open. “So, Mr. Nash, was he here to pick up some mail?”

Peter shook his head. “Sending some.”

“Where to, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“Well, since you’re the law …” Peter produced two envelopes and laid them on the counter. “Can’t let you take them, but you can see them, I guess.”

Ethan looked down at the letters. “Hmm. Written by two different people, I’d say.”

“He told me one was from his boss.”

Ethan bent down to decipher the addresses. “Pennsylvania. And Massachusetts.”

“That’s right,” Peter said.

“Reckon I’ll send some wires to the authorities in those towns, if Fergus can stand the expense, Mayor.”

“Feel free, Ethan. I don’t like that fellow.” Peter scooped up the letters.

“Right. Thanks for sending your boy over for me.”

Ethan stepped outside. Cyrus Fennel must be in his office now. Time for another parley.

He waited on the boardwalk while Cyrus sold a stagecoach ticket to a salesman who’d stopped overnight at the Fennel House. The man talked on and on about his recent travels. At last he came out and headed across the street toward the boardinghouse.

Ethan stepped into the office. “Morning, Mr. Fennel.”

Cyrus had begun to rise from the chair behind his desk but sank back into it.

“Sheriff. What can I do for you?”

“You expressed an interest in buying the Peart place. I just wanted you to know there’s a fellow in the area who claims to be Frank’s heir.”

“Really?” Cyrus shrugged. “Thanks, but I’m not so much interested anymore.”

“That right?”

Cyrus opened a wooden box on his desk and took out a cigar. “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of selling off some of my property outside of town.”

Ethan watched him in surprise. Cyrus usually held on to real estate like it was his life’s blood. If he ever sold a piece, he made sure he took a very good profit.

Cyrus lit the cigar and took a couple of puffs. “I’m having a little cash flow problem.” He grimaced. “Had some family needing a little help. So I can’t buy any more land just now. But thanks for letting me know.”

“All right.” Ethan turned back outside into the brilliant sunshine. Odd. Very odd. And the coincidence of one of the hands at a ranch Cyrus owned claiming to be Frank’s nephew—that was even odder.

CHAPTER 20

H
iram welcomed Ethan for supper on Wednesday evening. Meals at the Dooley home had become monologues from Rose. Neither he nor Trudy had the energy to wrest the conversation from her anymore.

“Mr. Fennel showed me three buildings today. As soon as I decide which one I like best and find someone to help me clean it, I shall open my business.” Rose gazed pointedly across the table at Trudy but elicited no reaction.

Trudy looked wrung out, Hiram realized. As exhausted as he felt.

Ethan smiled cordially and passed the dish of dandelion greens to Rose. “And will you continue living here when you’ve established your shop?”

Frown lines appeared between Rose’s eyebrows. “I’m sure I’ve enjoyed visiting with my kin, and we have a pleasant household here. But truthfully, I’m considering another arrangement.”

“Oh?”

To give him credit, Ethan hid the glee that statement must have fanned in his heart. Hiram accepted the dish of greens from Rose and nodded his silent thanks.

“Yes, I wouldn’t want to impose on my brother-in-law and Gertrude. After all, this is their home. I had thoughts at one time that we might all continue as a unit, but …” Rose shook her head. “I’ve decided to become an independent businesswoman. This town seems to foster such enterprises, and I’d like to try.”

“I wish you success,” Ethan said. He looked over at Hiram. “I heard back from the governor this afternoon.”

“About the Peart property?” Hiram asked.

“Yes. Since Milzie inherited from Frank, and then she died without a will, if no next of kin is found, the government will take possession of the property.”

“But you said this Sterling fellow claims to be Frank’s kin,” Trudy said.

“But Milzie was the last owner of the property. Sterling’s not blood kin to her. I’m not sure that matters.” Ethan shook his head as he picked up his fork. “I don’t pretend to understand it all. There’s another complication, though. Milzie didn’t pay taxes on the land for the last ten years, so it may be sold for back taxes.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Trudy rose and went to the stove for the coffeepot. “And you said Sterling hasn’t proved his relationship to Frank.”

“I doubt he can.” Ethan held his mug up for some coffee.

Rose tossed her head when Trudy approached her. “I’ll have tea, please.”

Trudy said nothing but came around the table and filled Hiram’s mug and her own. After replacing the coffeepot on the stove, she took down a china cup and saucer. Rose had made it clear the first day of her visit that it wasn’t right to drink tea from a mug. One needed the saucer to partake properly. Lately Trudy had been waiting on Rose less and prompting her to take care of herself. Hiram wondered if her hints at moving out sprang from this. Though they’d tried to remain courteous, she must feel their reluctance to have her stay much longer.

“Well, you’ve got to do right by Milzie,” Trudy said as she measured out tea leaves. “You can’t let anyone take her land.”

“I agree,” Ethan said.

Hiram sipped his coffee and set the mug down. “Seems to me the law is in place, but whether Boise will bother to see that it’s enforced is another question.”

Trudy’s eyebrows drew together. “That might fall to you, Eth.”

Ethan nodded, but he didn’t look happy. Hiram hated for his friend to feel pressure from the territorial officials as well as the townspeople and folks who skirted the edge of the law. But better Ethan than him. Give him a good piece of cherry wood and some sandpaper, and Hiram would be happy to stay out of public doings.

Ethan ate the last bite of pumpkin pudding with cream and pushed back his chair. Trudy was a powerful good cook. But Rose had stopped her flurry of baking since the Sunday Hiram made it clear he wasn’t interested in marrying her. And when Trudy rose to clear the table, Rose made no offer to help.

“You folks go on into the parlor,” Trudy said with a tight smile.

“Why don’t you gentlemen bring your coffee, if you’d like.” Rose’s bright comment included them both, though Ethan had emptied his mug. “Oh Trudy, the sheriff needs a refill.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Ethan stood. “I’ll just help put these dishes through the dishpan.”

“Nonsense.” Rose smiled beguilingly. “You’ve worked hard all day. You need a chance to relax.”

Ethan chuckled. “I haven’t done much strenuous work today, ma’am, and I expect Trudy’s done a heap more in that line than I have.” He picked up his dishes and carried them to the work counter. Trudy set out her dishpan and started to walk around him, to the hot water reservoir on the stove. He touched her sleeve. “Let me get that for you.”

“Thank you.” Her smile was genuine now, if fatigued.

Hiram also carried his dishes over and set them in the dishpan. “How about I wash and Ethan dries? You go take a load off and visit with Rose.”

Apparently that prospect didn’t appeal to Trudy either. “If we all work at it, the chores will be done sooner.”

“All right,” Hiram said. “What would you like me to do? Whatever will help you most.”

“You could sweep the floor and take the table scraps out to the chicken yard.”

Rose stood uncertainly in the doorway to the parlor. “Aren’t you coming, Hiram?”

“Might as well help clean up. I did my share of eating.”

“You could wipe the table,” Trudy suggested.

Rose’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I’ll work on my hat models.” She disappeared into the parlor.

Ethan glanced at the Dooleys and lowered his voice. “Now that I’ve got you two alone, you might be interested to know that I heard back from a police chief in Massachusetts—the town where Kenton Smith sent his letter. He’s never heard of anyone by that name.”

“Well, you tried.” Trudy finished loading the dishpan. Fifteen minutes later, the dishes were done and the kitchen back in order.

“I think I’ll go ‘round and see Doc Kincaid,” Hiram said. “He mentioned the other day that he likes to read, and I told him he could borrow that book you gave me last Christmas.”

“All right,” Trudy said. “I hope he’s not out on a professional call.”

Hiram took his hat and slipped out the back door. “Feel up to a stroll?” Ethan asked. “There’s a near-full moon tonight.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Trudy stepped to the parlor doorway. “Rose, I’m stepping out with Ethan for a little while.”

“Oh. Is Hiram going?”

“He’s visiting Dr. Kincaid.”

“I thought his hand was healed.”

“It is, pretty much. I think this is a social visit.”

“Oh. I see.”

Ethan took Trudy’s shawl from its hook and held it for her. When she turned into it, he wrapped it around her shoulders and squeezed them. She smiled up at him.

“I expect you’ll want a bonnet, too. It’s still cool out evenings.”

Soon they left and walked the short distance to Gold Lane. Ethan hoped she’d go with him as far as the river this time. It was quiet there and secluded. Late in summer, the river would be little more than a trickle, but now, in mid-June, it flowed fast over the rocky streambed. The sound of it reached them as they ambled past the last houses in town and down the slope toward the water. The moon peeked between the mountain summits to the east. He reached for Trudy’s hand.

“What can you do about that cowboy claiming Milzie’s land?” she asked.

“I expect I ought to go out and talk to him. Maybe I’ll ride out in the morning. I’ll tell him again that unless he can prove his kinship to Frank Peart, he can’t inherit the land, and maybe not even then. He really needs to talk to a lawyer who knows the territorial statutes if he wants to pursue it.”

“What will happen if he can’t claim it? None of those letters we wrote have been answered yet.”

“It’ll sit for a while, and then it will probably be sold at auction for back taxes.”

“Cyrus will buy it.”

“Well, I dunno about that. Cy seems to have changed his mind about wanting it. Says he’s having a cash flow problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Reckon it’s like the river in August. Not enough liquid to keep things flowing.”

“He’s short on money?” She looked up at him in the moonlight.

Ethan stopped walking. “Something like that.” He tugged her toward him, and she floated into his arms.

“Trudy.”

“Mmm?”

He kissed her.

Trudy hurried around to the back door on Thursday afternoon. She’d stayed longer than usual at the shooting practice to help one of the ranchers’ wives steady her aim. Now she’d be late putting supper on the table.

The warm, rich smell of baking hit her as she crossed the threshold. Rose turned from the stove with a sheet of hot cookies in her hand.

“That smells delicious.” Trudy smiled at her. “Thank you for baking today. I’m sure the men will appreciate it.” Ethan’s presence at the supper table was a forgone conclusion.

But Rose turned away a bit flustered. “Oh, these aren’t for supper, actually.”

“What are they for?” Trudy hung up her bonnet and shawl and tied on her apron.

“I thought I’d take a basket around to Dr. Kincaid tomorrow, to thank him for the excellent job he did on Hiram’s hand.”

Trudy stood still with her hands behind her, on the apron strings. “He hardly did a thing.”

Rose shrugged and began removing her golden oatmeal cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula.

“Wait a minute.” Trudy marched around until she was in Rose’s line of sight. “I thought you’d decided you liked Griffin Bane.”

Rose’s nose wrinkled. “I’m sure he’s a nice enough man, but he smells like the stable all the time. And his voice is so loud he startles me when he speaks.”

“Oh.” Trudy hadn’t given it much thought. A livery owner ought to smell like the stable, and a man as large as Griff was bound to have a stentorian voice. She eyed the plates of cooling cookies. Dr. Kincaid certainly would have plenty, and so far as she knew, the ingredients came from her supplies.

“Where’s Hiram?”

“I’m not sure. I think I heard him out near the barn.”

Trudy quickly put a pan of potatoes on to boil. “I guess we’ll use the leftover chicken. I’ll go out to the root cellar and see if there aren’t a few carrots left.”

As she crossed the backyard, Hiram came to the barn door and waved. She veered toward him.