The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,144

maintained a cordial tone to her voice. “Is there something you need?”

“I would like some more cream on my cobbler,” Orville said.

“Here, man, serve yourself,” Myron said, and shoved the cream pitcher toward Orville’s bowl. Then he waved his spoon at Fannie. “Aren’t you having any? It’s quite good, you know.”

“Why yes, thank you, I believe I will,” Fannie said, secretly enjoying being the center of attention, and left her father to add his own cream.

Orville sputtered and snuffed about, muttering beneath his breath, and shoved the cream pitcher away without adding any to his dessert.

Fannie had just seated herself and was chewing her first bite when a knock sounded on the door. Almost instantly, she realized it was probably Harley, and suffered first a moment of panic, before reality set in. The meal that she’d just shared with Myron had been more fun than she’d ever had with Harley in their two years of courtship.

When the knock sounded again, she arched an eyebrow at Orville.

“Father? Are you going to answer the door… or shall I?”

Orville shoved his bowl aside and stood up. “You know who it is,” he said cryptically.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Fannie asked.

Orville tossed down his napkin and stomped out of the room.

Myron swallowed the bite he was chewing then laid down his spoon.

“Is something wrong?”

Fannie shrugged. “Not from my perspective.”

“Then who’s at the door?”

“Well, since it is Wednesday, it’s most likely Harley. It’s the only day other than at church on Sunday that I ever see him. The rest of the time I believe he is frequenting your place… and your women.”

Myron’s face reddened. He wasn’t aware that Fannie knew of Harley’s rather public indiscretions.

“They’re not actually my women. They consider themselves self-employed and I’m sorry,” he said, and laid his hand over Fannie’s clenched fist.

“Why?” she said. “It’s certainly not your fault he doesn’t really care for me.”

Myron frowned. “That’s not the first time you’ve implied that.

“It wasn’t an implication, it was the truth,” Fannie said.

Myron leaned back, fixing Fannie with a curious look.

“Do you care for him?” he asked.

Fannie didn’t answer.

Myron persisted.

“You’re promised to him, aren’t you?”

“My father introduced us. My father is the one who brought up Harley’s intentions. My father is the one who set a date. If the preacher hadn’t died, I would already be a married woman.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Myron said.

“I don’t know what I feel, but I know what I want,” she snapped, and then stood up and walked away from the table.

Myron followed her to the back door, and when she would have gone outside, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

Fannie froze. It was the first time she’d ever been touched so intimately by any man other than her father. She should have been reminding him of his boldness, but instead she was surprised to discover how much she liked it.

“Fannie…”

“What?”

“What do you want? Tell me.”

She turned, and the words spilled out before she thought.

“I want what every woman wants. I want a husband who loves me. I want children, and in the years to come, grandchildren.” Then her voice softened until it was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to grow old and die alone.”

Myron knew just how she felt. It was an echo of his own sentiments.

“Fannie, dear… I—”

“What the hell is going on here?”

They both turned. The anger in the question was impossible to ignore as was the indignation on Harley Charles’s face.

“Fannie! I would like to know why you think this behavior is acceptable.”

“What behavior?” Fannie asked. “We just finished a meal. Everyone eats. Would you care for some food? There are plenty of leftovers.”

Harley doubled up his fists.

“I don’t want to eat. I want to know why my fiancé is keeping company with another man.”

Fannie put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said. “I’ll tell you after you tell me.”

Harley frowned. “Tell you what?”

“Well, I’ll tell you why Myron was having supper with us, if you’ll explain your behavior with a certain woman at Mr. Griggs’ saloon.”

Harley’s face turned three shades of red before he went pale. He stared first at Myron, then at Orville, who’d just entered the room before meeting Fannie’s gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputtered.

Fannie frowned. “You mean you don’t know that you’ve been paying money to a woman for her favors? Somehow I find that ridiculous. Now you’re going to try and tell me that you’ve been doing it all