Cattleman's Honor. Pamela Toth

Cattleman's Honor - Pamela  Toth


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to Waterloo tend to stand out,” he said. “Especially the pretty ones.” His wife elbowed him playfully, and they exchanged smiles, the easy affection between them plain to see.

      “Don’t mind my husband,” she told Emily. “Most of the locals still think of me as a newcomer, and I’ve lived here for five years.” There was a trace of East Coast in her voice that Emily couldn’t quite place. “I’m from New York,” Rory added. “How about you?”

      “Southern California,” Emily replied as they trailed after the last of the people going inside. “I bought the Johnson place,” she added, wondering whether they already knew and that was why they were being so friendly.

      “Then we really are neighbors,” was all she said. “Why don’t you sit with us inside, and we can introduce you around afterward?”

      “Thanks, that would be nice.” The knot of nerves in Emily’s stomach began to loosen.

      “It’s a shame Adam and his daughter aren’t here,” Rory said in an undertone as they crossed the vestibule. “He took her to Colorado Springs for the weekend to buy her a dress for the school dance.”

      So Emily’s nemesis had a child. It seemed odd that he would be the one to take her clothes shopping, unless her mother was no longer in the picture. Despite the negative impression he’d made on Emily, it sounded as though Adam took his duties as a parent seriously. How she wished her ex-husband felt the same way.

      She would have liked to ask what grade the girl was in. David hadn’t said anything about a dance. Perhaps Adam’s daughter attended a private school.

      Emily followed Rory down the center aisle of the church, aware of the heads turning curiously and the murmured greetings when they took their places in the pew. Travis had entered first, still carrying Lucy, and Steven sat between him and Rory, with Emily on the end. Before anyone around them could do more than smile or nod, the choir filed in, followed by the minister, and the service began with a hymn.

      The simple decor of the interior was complemented by the elegant tapestries on the walls, the gleam of well-polished wood and the masses of flowers Emily assumed had been provided by members of the congregation. Beeswax tapers burned on the altar. Behind it was a large, round, stained-glass window, the rich colors of its traditional biblical scene glowing as brightly as a neon sign.

      At the conclusion of the hymn, the minister began to pray. Hands clasped loosely in her lap, Emily let the soothing words wash over her bowed head. Long before the service was over, she experienced the healing sense of peace and comfort that attending services nearly always brought her. Her only regret was that David wasn’t here with her. He was having such a difficult time adjusting to the changes in their lives, and Emily didn’t know what, if anything, she could do to help him.

      Despite her concern for her son, she enjoyed the sermon, the prayers and especially the music. After the service was over and the minister had walked up the aisle past their pew, she left with Rory and her family. They seemed to know everyone. Emily met so many people on her way to the exit that she doubted she’d ever be able to keep them all straight.

      When they got to the front steps, Travis introduced her to the minister. “Welcome to Waterloo,” Reverend Foley boomed as he pumped Emily’s hand. With his rotund build and fringe of hair, all he needed were brown robes and sandals to pass for a Franciscan monk. “Do you have family around here?”

      “Not a soul,” Emily replied. “My son, David, and I needed a change of pace, and I fell for Colorado when I got off the plane in Denver.” She didn’t add that she’d come to scout out Ed Johnson’s property, nor did she figure it would be polite to mention that David thought the locals were a bunch of hayseeds. “He’s home with a cold,” she said instead.

      “I hope you’ll bring him with you next Sunday,” the minister replied. “Meanwhile, if there’s anything my wife or I can do to help you settle in, don’t hesitate to call. Rosemary will be disappointed that she missed meeting you, but she’s off to Cheyenne to visit her sister until midweek.”

      “I hope you’ll join us for dinner one evening while you’re batching it,” Rory told him. With her approval, Steven had gone with another little boy down to the lawn for a game of tag. He reminded Emily so much of David at that age. Life had been much simpler then.

      The minister’s smile widened in response to Rory’s invitation. “Rosemary left me a couple of frozen casseroles with detailed instructions, but I have to admit that eating alone isn’t much fun.” He leaned closer. “You know how fond I am of your cooking,” he added conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell my wife that I prefer your meat loaf to hers.”

      “Or that you’re a shameless flatterer,” Rory responded, glancing at the line waiting to greet him. “Come tomorrow, and I might just whip up that dinner you like.”

      “With mashed potatoes?” he asked hopefully.

      “Of course.”

      The minister’s pleased expression faded as he glanced discreetly at Rory’s rounded stomach. “It won’t be too much trouble?”

      Travis curved his free arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I’ve tried to get her to slow down,” he said, “but she’s stubborn. Must be all that red hair.”

      “Compared to slinging hash for a diner full of customers, feeding one family and the occasional guest is child’s play,” she exclaimed, piquing Emily’s curiosity. “We’ll look for you tomorrow, Reverend.”

      After he’d promised to be there, he excused himself to greet another parishioner, and Travis guided Rory down the front steps as carefully as if he were escorting royalty.

      “Would you and your son like to join us?” she asked Emily when they reached the sidewalk where knots of people stood visiting. “We’d love to meet him.”

      Emily was touched by the easy way the invitation was issued, as though they were already friends. Although that might not be possible, Emily liked the idea. “Might I take a rain check until my son is over his cold?” she asked regretfully.

      “Sure thing. Let’s make it soon, though. We’re neighbors, after all.” Rory’s smile was guileless as she reached into her purse and extracted a card she handed Emily. “Here’s my number. In the meantime, at least come by for coffee some morning.”

      Emily thanked her and tucked the card in her pocket, intending to slip away quietly. Her plans were thwarted when Rory led her to another group and began making introductions.

      “Don’t even try to keep everyone straight,” she told Emily between names. “If you’re anything like me, all these new faces will be a blur for a good while yet, but at least it’s a start.” She winked at Emily. “Besides, they’re all curious as heck about why you would move here from southern California, when the change has to be like crash landing on a different planet. Everyone’s just too polite to ask.”

      Emily sensed that asking was just what Rory was doing. What would she say if Emily told her she’d brought her son here to save his life and that she had no intention of selling their new home, not to anyone?

      Now wasn’t the time for confidences, especially with someone whose last name began with a W. Emily settled for part of the truth. “I wanted David to attend a school that didn’t need metal detectors and armed guards patrolling the halls.”

      “I’m afraid that day will come, even here,” Rory replied regretfully. “We’re lucky that so far we’ve had no trouble. It’s very different from the Bronx, where I grew up.”

      “Why did you pick Waterloo?” Emily asked curiously. “Did you already know Travis?”

      Rory glanced at her husband, who was talking to an older man with a face like tanned leather and a bolo tie with a turquoise stone the size and color of a robin’s egg tucked beneath the folds of his chin. “Do you remember that attractive hunk in the choir who sang the solo this morning?” she asked Emily.


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