busy, we hardly make it to town anymore. Pleasant comes by and takes our lists of supplies to the Dunnigans.”
Merritt turned and made a show of watching Liam move the ladder to the other side of the livery’s double doors, a clear sign she was through with the conversation. Adele watched and realized she’d done the same thing to Liam countless times over the years. Maybe it was time she stopped such nonsense. What could it hurt to get to know the man better?
Maybe it was even time to take a second look at her list and make a few alterations. But she liked everything on her list – it was all good. If she started amending it, would she keep doing so until it didn’t make any difference if she stuck to it or not? She frowned at the thought.
“Adele …” Liam called. “Are you coming, or does Merritt have to hold the ladder? I’m sure she has better things to do.”
“Like finding out some people have started a sawmill,” Benedict teased.
“Oh, go chop some wood or something,” Merritt snapped.
The Comfort brothers laughed and headed down the street. They must have come to town for lunch. “Maybe they’re not so busy after all,” Adele mused. “Not if they have time to come here and eat at the hotel.”
“Let them be,” Liam scolded. “Clear Creek has needed a sawmill for years, and it will make things easier for a lot of folks around here. Me included.”
“But Liam …” Merritt began in protest.
He glanced between the women. “You know, maybe this dance will help folks around here know what every one’s been up to.”
“What do you mean?” Merritt asked innocently.
Adele sighed. “He’s right. The only reason I knew about the Comfort Mill was because I see Major all the time.”
Merritt picked at a fingernail. “I don’t build things, so why would I know?”
“But how many other things about people in this town don’t we know?” Adele mused.
“I could turn into a horrible gossip,” Merritt suggested. “Then I’d know everything.”
“We already have two,” Adele said.
“Yes, but Mrs. Fig only gossips about things that interest her,” Liam pointed out. “A sawmill is hardly newsworthy in her book. And Mr. Dunnigan’s always in his store.”
“He’s right,” Adele agreed. And in more ways than one.
“There, what do you think?”
Mr. Mulligan studied the banners above the street including the one on the front of the livery stable. “They look fine, Liam, just fine. When’s this shindig taking place?”
Liam smiled and pointed up.
Mr. Mulligan peered at the banner strung up between his saloon and the sheriff’s office. “Oh, well, will ye look at that? This Saturday.”
“Yes, sir.” Liam glanced at Adele, who was speaking with Merritt. The two had seemed agitated earlier with the Comfort brothers, but Benedict and Matt had always kept to themselves. Years ago, after Major married Honoria, three of his five younger brothers built themselves cabins and sent off for mail-order brides. Or rather, Major sent off for them. They got three sisters running from unwanted marriages, and it was a fiasco when they first came to town, until they sorted out which brother matched which sister. That was what, nine years ago?
Adele was right – not much has happened in Clear Creek. And when it did happen, people didn’t always hear about it. They did need more get-togethers – either that, or someone had better start a newspaper. Probably the former, since little that was newsworthy occurred in the area.
He admired the banners they made. They looked happy, even if they were just a few words and some flowers. “I think this’ll be good for the town.”
“Aye, I agree,” Mr. Mulligan said. “Not much goes on ‘round here. I know Mary’s looking forward to it.”
“My mother’s excited,” Liam said.
“How’s your pa?”
Liam’s face fell. He’d been having fun hanging banners and listening to Adele and Merritt bicker with the Comforts, and it took his mind off his father. “He’ll be seeing Doc Drake soon.” If I have to drag him there at gunpoint.
“That’s good,” Mr. Mulligan said somberly.
Liam shoved the hammer into his back pocket. “Well, I’d better load the ladder into my wagon and head home.”
“Me best to yer folks.”
“I’ll tell them.” He turned to see Adele approaching. Merritt had gone to the sheriff’s office, probably to speak with her father, Deputy O’Hare. “Are you ready to go?” He didn’t mention to Mr. Mulligan he’d be taking her home too, not that it mattered. Or did it? The old man was watching