9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Page 7

  Shortly after noon, feeling good at all they’d accomplished, Ben and Tom headed back to the house.

  “Think between the two of us we can rustle up some vittles?”

  “Reckon so.” Ben laughed. “Might not be worth eating, though.”

  “Next time my wife and the cook decide to spend a day in town, remind me to make sure they leave us menfolk a bit of food before they go.”

  They were drawing close to the house, and Ben’s stomach was already grumbling. “I think maybe they took pity on us, Tom.” He nodded toward the open back door. “Looks like they came back early.”

  Tom drew up beside Ben. “Hell, no. Hell, no!” he repeated, ripping his hat off and beating it against his leg. “Damn it, let’s go.”

  Another quick glance toward the house showed Ben the reason for the alarm. The farm wagon had not returned. The wet, muddy ground outside the house was covered with hoof prints.

  Inside, the house was a shambles. Ben went from room to room, taking it all in. Every drawer had been pulled out and its contents dumped. Several pillows had been slashed or ripped to shreds. Goose feathers rose up and floated through the air as the men inspected the damage.

  “I don’t get it.” Ben squared his shoulders. “Why would anyone do this?”

  “You know why. And you probably know who.”

  Ben blinked. “Are you thinking my father rode out here and tore the place up?”

  “Sounds logical to me.”

  “I think you’re on the wrong track.” Ben blew out a breath. “You know I’ve got no regard for him, but this doesn’t seem the sort of thing he’d pull.”

  “Maybe it’s his way of getting back at me.”

  “For firing him, you mean.”

  “You got a better explanation?”

  Ben pushed the hat back on his head. “As a matter of fact, yes, I do.” He pointed toward the corner where he’d just noticed an old board propped against the wall. “Take a look.”

  A warning had been painted upon the board in a clumsy scrawl.

  “Get out now,” Tom read.

  “It’s the gold. Somebody’s damned serious about finding it.”

  “Well, whoever’s behind this is going to be sadly disappointed.” Tom raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Nobody’s going to run me and my family off of our land. It won’t work. We’re not going anywhere.”

  “What if they come back?”

  “What if they do? I’ll be watching for them. This is the work of a coward, Ben. Somebody is watching. We know that. They saw the women leave this morning, saw us leave, too, and they figured this would be a good time to cause a little havoc. But it won’t work.” He bent down, picked up a torn pillow, and tossed it to Ben. “Get this out of here. Throw it in the rag pile. After you’ve done that, get back in here and help me clean this place up. We need to have everything in order before Lucille returns.” He gave Ben a somber look. “I don’t want her to know this happened.”

  “You think it’s wise to keep this from Lucille? I mean, aren’t husbands and wives supposed to tell each other everything?”

  Tom’s breath came out slow. “Yeah, most of the time. But this isn’t one of those times.” Suddenly, he looked up, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “Guess you haven’t heard, there’s going to be a new little Henderson joining the family sometime next summer. I’m sure hoping it might be a boy this time around.”

  Ben slapped him on the back. “You son of a gun. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, but when women are in that delicate condition, they can’t bear up much trouble. That’s why I want to keep this quiet. Meanwhile, we need to figure out who’s behind this and put a stop to it. I’m counting on your help.”

  “You’ve got it.” Ben nodded. “We know it’s about the gold, of course. You ever look for it?” he asked after a slight hesitation.

  “Not really. Tom shrugged. “To tell the truth, Ben, I don’t think there is any gold to be found. The stories, the legends, the spooks. I think it’s all a bunch of bull.”

  Maybe so. But somebody obviously thought otherwise.

  Did his father know about the gold? Ben frowned. Probably not. Until only a few days before, he’d been locked away in a prison cell. Still, it seemed a bit of a coincidence that his old man had suddenly shown up looking for work on a piece of property where another outlaw had supposedly buried a fortune in stolen loot.

  And what of the strange man he and Emily had seen near the old cabin?

  “Don’t go looking for snakes,” he muttered. Trouble was far too easy to find.

  * * * *

  At Miss Brundage’s Female Academy, another week dragged slowly by. With each passing day, Emily grew only more miserable. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could bear the unhappiness.

  She sat at the table, drumming her fingers on the scarred surface. “You’re not listening, Hattie. I swear, nobody listens to me. Nobody cares.” She uttered the last with a venomous fury as she shot out of the chair and began another round of flouncing.

  From across the room, Hattie’s weary sigh cut through the silence.

  “Sit down, please. I hate it when you flounce around like that. You’re not accomplishing anything. All you’re doing is wearing yourself out…and making me a bit nervous.” Averting her gaze, she turned back to the book in her hand. “Have you finished the assignment yet?”

  “We don’t have to have it done until Monday.”

  “And it’s already Saturday afternoon. Late on Saturday afternoon,” Hattie pointed out, stealing a glance toward the narrow, shuttered window where the last rays of sunlight fought to creep in. Another heavy breath escaped her lips, and she rose slowly to her feet. “I hate to be a nag, Emily, but tomorrow is Sunday. You know Miss Brundage doesn’t allow any school work on holy days.”

  Emily nodded. “You’re right, of course.” She reached up and pressed her fingers to her forehead. Since returning from Sunset, she’d been suffering painful headaches. Nerves, she guessed. Anxiety. That dreadful realization that nobody gave a hoot about her or what she did.

  “You’d better watch your step,” Hattie warned, closing her book and setting it on a small shelf. “That’s all I’m going to say.” She turned to the writing desk and carefully arranged a stack of notepaper. Next, she placed her pencils in order, along with the thick gum eraser she kept close at hand whenever she worked on her assignments.

  Mistakes happen, she often said. We can’t avoid making them, but we can fix them.

  With a weary sigh of her own, Emily flounced to her bed and threw herself onto it. Hattie and her platitudes! The girl always had an answer, one couched in clever words and memorable phrases. If she had to hear once more about stitches in time, counting chickens, or another of those tired adages, her head would explode. Little wonder it ached so much.

  “I have to do something. Please, help me think, Hattie.”

  “About what?”

  “About Benjamin, of course. I can’t concentrate on school. I can’t think about reading some boring book or working on some dull assignment. I have to find a way to win him back.” Why was that so difficult for Hattie to grasp?

  Hattie picked up a small paperweight and set it atop the notepaper. “It’s said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, so perhaps—”

  Emily silenced her with a look. “I don’t want to hear that. I was absent from Sunset for twelve weeks, and instead of growing fonder about me, Ben took up with somebody else.”

  For a moment, Hattie remained silent. She tapped a forefinger to her cheek.

  “Is something coming to mind?” Emily asked, scooting closer. Perhaps among all those adages, proverbs, and clever quotes, her roommate might find a bit of wisdom that had real value.

  “I’m trying to recall how it goes…something I read once, I believe it might have been in some play. I can’t remember all of it or exactly how it goes, but it’s about love being the greatest glory.”


  Emily’s hopes fell. “I don’t have his love. That’s the problem. I’ve lost him.”

  “But wait, there’s more!” Hattie chewed at her lower lip, her mouth moved and finally a few more words tumbled out. “There’s no greater punishment than jealousy. Yes, that’s how it goes. Well, perhaps not word for word, but that’s the gist of it, Emily. Love is the greatest glory and jealousy is the greatest punishment.”

  “So I should punish Ben by making him jealous? Is that what you mean?”

  Hattie frowned again. “I think that’s what it means, don’t you?”

  “But how would I do it? If Ben doesn’t care about me…”

  “I don’t believe that matters, actually. Men are naturally possessive, or so I’ve heard. Even if they lose interest in a woman, they still consider her their property.”

  “A man can’t own a woman!” The thought struck Emily as totally preposterous.

  “No, of course not. Not really, but in their minds, that’s how they think.” Hattie pulled her chair closer to the bed. “Weren’t you listening when Miss Brundage talked about the perils involved in relationships?” She sighed. “No, of course you weren’t listening. You were too busy daydreaming about Benjamin Brooks, as usual.”

  “I’m not sure Miss Brundage has much practical knowledge of men and relationships.”

  “She’s a teacher. She’s studied, and she’s learned all she needs to know. Knowledge doesn’t have to come first-hand, Emily. I daresay one of the reasons she’s remained single is because she’s aware of the problems that can arise. She’s chosen to avoid them.” Her spine stiffened. “I plan to do precisely the same.”

  “Never mind about that. You’re saying I should make Ben jealous and that will make him love me again?”

  “It makes sense, really. I mean, you do know that old saying that you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it.”

  “I know that one all too well.” She knew the truth of it, too. Maybe she’d taken Ben for granted, had never thought it possible that she could lose his affections.

  Hattie looked positively smug. “What I’m saying is that Ben might feel the same way. If he were to see you with someone else…well, tell me this, how did it feel when you saw him with that other girl?”

  “Horrible! Gut-wrenching!” She clutched at her side as the pain began again. “I thought I might die on the spot, Hattie.”

  “So, there you have it.” She sat back and clasped her hands in her lap. “Find another beau, let Ben see the two of you together, and let him pay for his indiscretions by suffering those same pangs of agony.”

  “I think you’re right.” But where could she quickly find another beau? And how could she be certain Ben would know of her newfound romance? The answer was so obvious, Emily laughed. For the first time since that awful moment on Thanksgiving morning, her heart felt light. Racing across the room, she knew exactly what she would do. “Willie Morse,” she called out over her shoulder. “That invitation he sent. Help me find it, Hattie.”

  “You’re going to accept? You don’t like Willie Morse,” Hattie reminded her. “You called him an obnoxious prig. Or was it a pig?”

  “You’re right on both counts.” She shuddered, shaking her head to rid it of the image of the hated fellow. The son of a federal judge, Willie Morse was as pompous as his father, and almost as overweight. He always smelled of sweat.

  She dug a parchment envelope from the trash receptacle. “This plan will be perfect.” Emily threw her arms around Hattie. “Thank you so much for helping me come up with the idea.” She crossed the room, pulled open the wardrobe the two girls shared, and grabbed her cloak. “There’s no time to waste. Goodness, I hope Willie hasn’t invited anyone else.”

  “What are you doing? Why are you putting on your cloak?”

  “I have to pay a call on Willie. I have to let him know I’m accepting his invitation.”

  “Emily, no! You can’t do that. I mean, not right now. It’s late. It’s nearly curfew.”

  “I don’t care. It’s not far to the Morse home. I’ll be back before lights out.” She smiled. “You worry too much, Hattie.” With a smile and a wave, she slipped out the door.

  Chapter Five

  The sun had nearly disappeared when Emily climbed down from the hired carriage and hurried toward the entrance of Judge Morse’s elegant two-story brick home. As a child, she’d occasionally visited the place with her parents. On those occasions, she’d always felt quite ill at ease, not because of the judge’s social standing or prestige, but because of the way Willie always looked at her. Even as a boy, he’d had a leering, hungry expression that repulsed her. She could scarcely believe she was now coming to his door to ask his favor. A bit like a chicken heading into a fox’s hole, she thought.

  But all in the name of love.

  “No greater glory,” she whispered, rubbing her hands together. Part of her fervently hoped Willie would be home. Another part of her silently prayed that he’d be out for the evening and she could be spared the misery of seeing him. Maybe coming to call on Willie wasn’t such a good idea.

  Too late, though, to turn around and scurry away. She’d come this far, and if love truly was the greatest glory, then certainly jealousy was a fitting punishment, indeed, for Benjamin Brooks to endure. No man Emily might choose would arouse more feelings of covetousness and possessiveness that William Howard Morse, Jr. Ben despised him.

  She breathed out a frosty sigh of relief when Willie himself opened the door. His gray-blue eyes stared at her for a moment while he obviously tried to get his wits about him. Emily almost laughed at the dumbfounded expression on his pudgy face. Finally, he blinked.

  “Emily? Please, my dear, come inside. You’ll catch a frightful cold on such a night.” He graciously stepped back and gestured for her to enter.

  Emily caught sight of a tall, elegant woman in a russet gown passing by. “William, who is it?”

  “A friend, Mother.”

  Letitia Morse stepped into the parlor. Her long face screwed up. “Emily Sue Phillips? What on earth are you doing here? Is something wrong? Does this involve some legal matter? Are you here to meet with my husband?”

  Speak of the devil and as likely as not, he’ll appear. At least, that’s what Hattie often said. Emily rolled her eyes as the porcine William Howard Morse stepped into the parlor. “Well, well, Miss Phillips!” His voice boomed through the small entryway. “I’m surprised to see you here.” A look of dismay colored his face. “Nothing’s wrong, is there? Your father?”

  Emily drew in a breath. “My father is doing fair, sir. I was home at Thanksgiving to visit with my family.”

  “Yes, give your mother and father my regards next time you see them.” He frowned. “I don’t get out that way as often as I’d like. Growing older slows a man down a bit.”

  More like growing fat slowed him down.

  “I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”

  “Is there something I can help you with?” the judge asked.

  “Thank you, but, no, sir.” Her face blazed. “I came to call on Willie.”

  His mother and father both turned toward him.

  “William, have you done something improper? Something we should discuss?” His mother eyed him over her pince-nez glasses. She turned to give Emily another once-over, as well.

  “No, please, nothing is wrong,” she quickly explained. “You see, I’m attending Miss Brundage’s school,” she continued, although she wasn’t certain anyone was actually listening. “I was running an errand, and before I returned to the academy I wanted to stop by to personally thank Willie for his invitation to the Christmas dance.”

  Willie’s mother pursed her lips and gave a slight nod. “Yes, I see.” Clearly, she didn’t.

  But Willie picked up on her words at once. “Yes?” Eager now, he stepped closer. “What about my invitation?”

  Judge Morse looked at the pair, then nodded toward his wife. “Go on upstairs, Letitia. I’ll be along shortly.” He
turned his full attention toward Emily. “I know my son is trustworthy, so I’ll leave you and Will to your conversation, but before you leave, Miss Phillips, I would like a word with you.” He turned to Willie, a younger and slightly smaller copy of himself. “Don’t be long. I’ll be in my study. Have Miss Phillips there within ten minutes, please.”

  Emily felt herself go pale. She didn’t have time to spend chatting with the long-winded, pompous judge. The man loved to hear himself talk and could go on for hours about nothing. What could he possibly want to discuss with her?

  “Sir,” she began. “I need to get back to school.” Of course, the judge paid her no mind. As he left the room, Emily wheeled around to face Willie. Her mind raced. She should have listened to Hattie. She could have waited and perhaps found a more opportune moment to act upon her plan. With a deep breath, she plunged ahead. “I came by to let you know that I…” She’d thought the words would come easily. Now, she found it a challenge to spit them out. “I accept your invitation. I plan on leaving Denver early Friday morning. The school will be shutting down for the holiday break. I’ll be staying with my mother and father. You can pick me up on Saturday evening. Seven o’clock will be fine.”

  Was he surprised by her boldness? Probably so. For a few seconds, he stood speechless before her. Finally, he nodded, and a smile appeared. “Yes, yes, of course.” Willie reached for her hands. “I’ve been hoping for this for a long time.”

  Emily pulled her hands away. “I really have to go now.” She turned toward the entrance, ready to bolt for the door.