Calder Brand - Janet Dailey Page 0,62
who hurried off to find the items—two pairs of denim pants, two shirts—one plaid flannel and one blue chambray—a leather belt, a Stetson hat, and three sets of underwear and socks. The prices would add up, but thanks to Rusty—or perhaps she should thank Benteen Calder—she had the money to pay.
While she waited for the clerk, she browsed for the other items she needed and put them in her basket—sewing thread and a packet of needles, flour and sugar, soap, matches, coffee, and a little tin of raisins for some cookies she was planning to make.
The store was crowded with other shoppers, mostly strangers. Sarah kept to herself, her attention focused on the items she was choosing. She didn’t see the well-dressed, middle-aged woman who’d stepped in front of her until they’d almost collided.
“My dear Sarah.” Only after the woman had spoken her name did Sarah recognize her. Her name was Margaret Lacy. Her husband was Everett’s business partner. Sarah had met her briefly, at dinner in the hotel, when she’d gone there with Everett.
“I was hoping to run into you, my dear—not literally, of course.” Her laugh sounded forced. “But I do need to have a word with you. Come with me. There’s no one in the dressing room.”
The skirt of her burgundy silk dress, worn with a matching jacket, rustled as she led Sarah to the rear of the store. Her hat, adorned with a teal blue ostrich plume, perched atop upswept red hair that was fading to gray at the roots. She was an imposing woman, tall, with strong features and penetrating eyes. Pulled along behind her, Sarah sensed that she was about to be taken to the woodshed. Her heart sank as she realized what it must be about—and why people appeared to be acting strangely toward her.
At the rear of the store was a closet-sized room with a calico curtain hung over the doorway. Inside, a cheap mirror was mounted on the wall. The only furniture was a single wooden chair.
“Sit down, my dear,” Margaret said, pointing to the chair.
“Thank you, but I’ll stand,” Sarah said. “I can’t imagine this will take long.”
“Very well. But you should thank me, Sarah. Everyone else is talking behind your back. At least I have the decency to talk with you face-to-face.” Margaret frowned. “I don’t have to tell you what this is about, do I?”
Sarah shook her head. “Probably not. But tell me anyway.”
“All right.” Margaret’s tongue clicked disparagingly. “It’s about that man, the one who’s living with you. I’m afraid you’ve created quite a scandal, my dear. Poor Everett is beside himself with worry for your reputation.”
Sarah didn’t reply. She should have known something like this was coming. The surprising thing was how little she cared.
“Well?” Margaret’s tongue clicked again. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Sarah lifted her chin, meeting the woman’s sharp gaze. “First of all, he isn’t living with me. He’s my patient. He was brought to me in the middle of the night with a dangerous gunshot wound. I removed the bullet and kept him there so I could take care of him.”
“But couldn’t he have gone to Dr. Phillips?”
“Dr. Phillips was out of town.”
“Well, Everett told me he offered to take the man to a boardinghouse. But you wouldn’t hear of it.”
“I know the kind of boardinghouse he meant. No one there would have cared for my patient’s wound. If it had become infected or started bleeding again, he would have died.”
“Maybe so, my dear. But your house isn’t exactly a hospital. I happen to know there’s only one bedroom—and one bed!”
“I know what you’re implying,” Sarah said. “But it wasn’t a problem to make an extra bed on the floor. Nothing is going on between us. As soon as he’s well enough to ride, he’ll be leaving for Montana.”
Margaret sighed. “You’re a decent, well-meaning young woman. I know that, Sarah. If you say you’re innocent, I believe you. But don’t you see? It’s all about appearances! Looking as if you’re doing something wrong is almost as bad as actually doing it. Everett is going into politics. He could be governor someday. How can you expect him to marry you if your reputation is in tatters?”
Sarah’s simmering anger spilled over. “I think I’ve explained myself enough,” she said. “If anyone asks you about me, you can tell them I said to mind their own business. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my purchases are ready.”
“I’ve tried to warn you, Sarah.