Marrying the Preacher's Daughter

One of Elisabeth’s sisters was seated on a bench near a window, and she studied Gabe curiously.

Sam glanced at her. “Have you met Anna?”

“I haven’t.”

“Anna is my youngest daughter—at least for the time being. Anna, meet Mr. Taggart.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, sir,” she said and rose to greet him with a little bow and a bashful nod.

“Your daughters are equally lovely,” Gabe said to his host.

Anna’s hair was paler than Elisabeth’s, not as dense or wavy however, and her smile was warm and infectious. He guessed her to be about sixteen. She held a closed book, her index finger keeping her spot. Once the attention was turned away from her, she opened the book and apparently picked up where she’d left off. She seemed content and confident. Watching her made him think about his sister and wonder about the years of her childhood and youth, growing up at the academy and not with a family like this one. He’d never had experience with this kind of atmosphere before.

He’d always believed he’d made the best choice for her, and he still did.

He couldn’t have provided her education or safe upbringing if he’d had to work in a mine or a factory. The few times he visited the school, he’d been impressed by the stability and routine. Irene had been given every opportunity that an education and a respectable background could provide.

Now she needed a husband with a good job and a secure future. Someone established and responsible.

He glanced at Rhys. At a break in the conversation, he asked, “What do you do, Mr. Jackson?”

“After his death, I took over my father’s position as president of Rocky Mountain Savings and Trust.”

“Banking,” Gabe acknowledged with a nod.

Another fair-haired young lady came to announce it was time to take their places in the dining room, and he was introduced to Abigail.

“I’ve heard all about you from my little brothers,” she told him with a twinkle in her eye. “Of course their descriptions are exciting and involve guns and robbers.”

She was younger than Elisabeth, not quite as slender, but just as pretty. He had to wonder if Elisabeth would shine in the same way if she allowed herself a charming smile and the same exuberance.

They reached an enormous dining room with a long table suited to dinners such as this. The table itself had a covering made of fancy needlework, and atop it were platters and bowls holding a mound of mashed potatoes, mouthwatering sliced beef, a slaw and other vegetables. He’d never seen so much food outside a restaurant in his life.

Rhys seated his mother and took the chair beside her as though familiar with the arrangement. Gabe waited for instruction.

“Please, sit here,” Josie said, standing behind an empty chair.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He stood behind the chair she indicated, but waited until she sat to take his own seat.

Sam sat at the head of the table, his wife at his right and Mrs. Jackson on his left, putting Rhys directly across from Gabe. Josie was on Gabe’s right.

Sam continued with introductions, and Gabe learned the twin to his left was John. Beside John sat their nanny, Miss Tyler, and then Peter. Phillip sat at the foot of the table, and along the other side were Abigail, Anna and beside Rhys, Elisabeth.

As the food was passed and he helped himself, he considered the seating arrangement. Were Elisabeth and Rhys courting? He couldn’t picture her accompanying him for a buggy ride or a picnic, but then maybe it was only Gabe she behaved so poorly toward. He made a point to pay close attention to her interaction with the others.

She chatted with Anna on her right, and Anna told her about a dress one of her classmates had worn that day. Elisabeth lent her undivided attention to the description.

“We might want to spend a few days in Denver,” Elisabeth suggested. “That shop where we found the periwinkle gabardine might have a similar lace.”

She appeared sincerely interested in helping her sister create a dress like her friend’s.

There was a loud rasp, like the turn of a doorbell, and Elisabeth stood, holding out her hand as though to stop Josie from standing. She dropped her napkin on the seat of her chair, reminding him he hadn’t even unfolded his. “I’ll get it,” she said.

Gabe opened his napkin discreetly.

“Where are you from?” Josie asked from beside him.

“Born in Illinois,” he replied.

“I’m from Nebraska. Sam found me there and brought me to Colorado.”

“A divine appointment to be sure,” Sam said with a fond smile directed at his wife.

Elisabeth returned. “It’s a telegram for Mr. Taggart.” She handed him the folded and sealed paper and went back to her seat.

Uncertain what to expect, Gabe opened the telegram. His examination shot directly to the sender. Irene Taggart.

Tired of waiting STOP Will arrive on the tenth STOP Cannot wait to see you STOP.

His food rested uncomfortably in his belly. He hadn’t told his sister he’d been shot. The last time he’d contacted her he’d told her his arrival date in Jackson Springs and assured her he’d send for her when he had a home ready.

He didn’t have a home ready.

“Bad news?” Sam asked, and Gabe realized everyone’s attention had focused on him and the piece of paper he held.

“No. No, it’s good news, actually.” He folded the telegram and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “My sister will be arriving sooner than I’d expected.”

“You have a sister?” Elisabeth asked, the first time she’d spoken to him since he’d entered the dining room.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Sam looked at his daughter, and she attempted to cover her surprise. “I just never pictured you with a family.”

“I wasn’t hatched.”

An uncomfortable silence settled on the gathering until Josie interrupted it with, “Do you have family other than your sister?”

“My folks died a long time ago,” he answered. “Irene’s been at boarding school in Chicago.”

“How old is she?” Anna asked.

He thought a second. “Must be she’s nineteen now.”

The news that Gabe Taggart had a sister shouldn’t have surprised Elisabeth, but it did. People weren’t born in a vacuum, but if she’d been going to imagine his family, she’d have thought up scruffy-bearded brothers, not a sister at a boarding school.

“I own land nearby,” he said, as though offering an explanation to the others. “I’d planned to have looked it over by now and started building a house, so I’m behind.”

Rhys focused his attention on the other man. “Where is this land of yours?”

“From what I can tell, the piece is northwest of here,” Gabe replied, then shrugged. “Doc won’t let me ride, so I haven’t seen it.”

“Do you think you could tolerate a buggy ride?” Sam asked. “We could go look at it tomorrow.”

Gabe smiled, his teeth white. “I’d be obliged, Reverend.”

“Your sister is welcome to stay here with us,” Josie offered.

Elisabeth couldn’t quite pinpoint the look that crossed his features. He studied Josie for a moment before speaking. “That’s generous of you, ma’am, but I’ve got a place for us to stay until I build a house.”

“Oh, really?” Beatrice entered the conversation for the first time. “And where will that be?”

“Seems it’s nearby from what Elisabeth tells me.” He tore his gaze from Josie to glance at the older woman.

“The parsonage,” Elisabeth explained. “Mr. Taggart has rented it.”

“Well, that is close by,” Josie said. “You’ll be able to join us for dinner at least once a week, and I won’t hear any different.”

“I can’t argue with an invitation like that.” The smile he gave Elisabeth’s stepmother softened his features. His green eyes actually sparkled with appreciation. Elisabeth experienced an odd feeling, like the falling sensation in a dream, and placed both hands on the tabletop to steady herself.

“This is the best meal I’ve eaten in months,” Gabe said. “The Hart females sure know their way around a kitchen.”

“I made rice pudding,” Abigail added, quickly vying for his attention.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and appreciation.

“It’s still warm.” Abigail glanced at her stepmother. “May I serve it now?”

“Just as soon as we clear away a few dishes,” Josie replied.

Elisabeth slid out her chair with the backs of her knees and stood. “Abigail and I will clear the dishes. You stay seated.”

Kalli got up. “I’ll help.”

In the kitchen, Abigail said to Kalli, “Mr. Taggart is handsome, don’t you think?”

Kalli blushed. “Indeed,” she agreed. “It’s not fair that a man has eyelashes like that.”

Elisabeth scraped plates and rinsed them in the pail in the sink before stacking them. Handsome? She supposed if he’d ever done anything but scowl at her, she’d have a different opinion of the man, but he hadn’t smiled at her like he’d smiled at the others this evening. Not that she’d wanted him to. She’d never have imagined her stepmother and siblings to be so easily fooled.

On her next trip for more dishes, she deliberately looked at his eyelashes. He caught her stare, and she turned away in discomfit.

Abigail carried her bowl of steaming cinnamon-scented rice pudding to the table and Elisabeth placed a stack of painted china jelly dishes beside it. Abigail sat, so Elisabeth spooned pudding and carried the bowls around the table, placing them in front of the diners. When she reached Gabe, she stood as far away as possible and leaned in to set the dish before him.

He turned a curious glance upward. “Thank you.”

“We don’t need any bridges.”

Elisabeth glanced up to discover Rhys speaking to Gabe.

“And there are no salt mines nearby. Will you be making shingles in Jackson Springs?”

She sensed a mocking edge, as though Rhys was belittling the other man’s skills or perhaps even questioning his intent.

“Actually, I’m planning to invest,” Gabe replied.

Rhys lifted his eyebrows. “As in stocks?”

“Perhaps. But I’m more interested in finding someone who needs capital to get a business started. I don’t want to work the business, so as long as it’s a sound principle. I’d be a silent partner. Meanwhile I’ll buy a few horses and try my hand at ranching.”

Gabe had Rhys’s attention now. The man sat forward, ignoring the dessert placed before him to focus on Gabe. “And you have the capital to fund a venture such as that?”

It was a rude question, akin to asking the man how much money he had, but Rhys was a banker, and she supposed it was his nature to question.

“That I do, Mr. Jackson.”

“Rhys. Call me Rhys.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.