Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,74
grinned. “Yes, but one is married to a well-muscled riverboat captain, and the other is married to her job. It does me little good in either case.”
Clint laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t want it said that I encouraged breaking up marriages.”
Tom joined him in laughter.
“Oh, honestly,” Connie said, shaking her head. “You two are ridiculous.”
That only made the men chuckle all the more.
“Well, I hope you’ll soon feel completely well, with no more headaches. In the meantime, I need to get back to my office.” Clint headed for the bedroom door, but neither Connie nor Faith offered to see him out.
As he made his way downstairs, Clint wondered what the trio was up to. Maybe he hadn’t paid enough attention to them. He frowned, remembering that Connie had been down at the river the night the Indians were bringing in smuggled goods. She’d said she was just out for a walk, but now Clint had his doubts. What had she really been up to?
He made his way back to his office and found a telegram waiting for him. It was from his father. Clint read through it and frowned. His father was coming for a visit. Apparently he was headed home to California to encourage votes, since it was an election year. Four years earlier, the election had been hotly contested. Electoral votes in several states were disputed, and a special Electoral Commission was formed to decide the outcome. Rutherford B. Hayes, the Republican, had been chosen as the winner, pledging, because of the controversy, that he would not run for a second term. He had stuck to that pledge, leaving both parties to come up with brand-new candidates. James A. Garfield was running for the Republicans, and Winfield Scott Hancock, a Civil War general, was the Democratic choice. It was clear who Clint’s Republican father wanted.
Clint crumpled the telegram. He didn’t need his father here right now. The senator had a way of disturbing even the most peaceful setting, and Grand Ronde was far from that. Clint took off his coat and hung it over the back of the chair. He was just going to have to make the best of it.
He had just sat down and gotten to work, still pondering what he could do that would be most beneficial to his own plans, when a knock sounded on the outer door. At one time, Clint had a secretary who handled visitors, but the government had cut back on staff.
“Come in!” he called.
To his surprise, Connie entered, with Faith close behind her. “Mama insisted we bring you this piece of chocolate cake. She meant to send it with you, but you got past her somehow.” She put the plate down in front of him.
“Is that her famous berry compote on the side?” he asked.
Connie chuckled. “It is.”
“I’ll be hard-pressed not to dig in.” He smiled up at Connie. “Thanks for bringing it by.”
“That’s quite all right,” she answered. “We’re on our way to Ann’s. Ruth is about to have a baby. She fell ill, though, and Faith has been trying to help. Of course, don’t say anything to Ruth’s husband. He and his father seem to hate all white people. They don’t want anything to do with our help.”
“Samson Sheridan and his father and brothers have been at odds with us since your father refused to help them run away to Canada.”
Connie nodded. “All the same, there’s no anger toward them on our part. My father misses his old friend and still tries from time to time to make amends.”
“I know he does. I’ve tried to repair the relationship as well.” Clint shook his head. “The Indians act like spoiled children.”
“Not all act that way,” Faith countered. “No more than white people do. I’d say this is more of a personal feud.”
“Nevertheless, there is a growing hatred among the Indians, and I fear it’s going to explode and destroy everyone and everything. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do. A lot of work.”
“We have our duties as well.” Connie headed for the front door. “Enjoy your cake, and don’t forget to bring back Mama’s dish.”
“I won’t.”
Clint looked at the cake and then at the work he had to manage. Supplies needed to be ordered.
He dipped his little finger in the compote and then licked it off. Supplies could wait. He picked up the plate and headed to the kitchen to find a fork.
“The baby isn’t moving much,” Ann told Faith. Ruth gave a weak nod.