A Rich Man For Dry Creek And A Hero For Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad
seen anyone else use folding chairs.”
“Well, we don’t, but you’re—”
“I’m what?”
Robert wondered how much trouble he could get in if he took a swing at a minister. “Go ahead, tell me. I’m what?”
The night air was damp. Snow wasn’t falling, but the air was heavy with the promise of a blizzard later. Clouds covered most of the stars and half of the moon.
Matthew turned and stepped down next to Robert. “I’d guess right now you’re a man who’s just feeling bad. Want to talk about it?”
Robert realized he did. “You might not understand how it is with me.”
“No, probably not,” Matthew agreed as he settled onto the steps. “Can’t say I’ve ever had the problems of a rich man.”
“What makes you think it’s got to do with money?”
Matthew shrugged. “Just a guess. You’re rich. That’s got to be a burden—although I’d guess it’s a little less of a burden after tonight.”
Robert looked at him.
“All those rolls of film you bought from the kids must have set you back a pretty penny. I heard them saying you were paying one thousand dollars for each picture they got of you kissing Jenny. I heard them cameras each take twenty-four shots. One of the kids is still kicking himself for taking three shots of the decorations before you started your kissing. Can’t blame him. I almost got a camera myself and started taking pictures. That’s going to be a half-million-dollar kiss when you’ve paid off all the kids.”
“Does Jenny know about this?” Robert wasn’t so sure he wanted her to find out about this when she was carrying around a pot of hot coffee. She might be inclined to throw some of it his way without benefit of a cup.
“No. The kids are keeping quiet like you asked. They’re tiptoeing around her. But they’re so excited, they’re going to burst if they don’t tell someone. I’d guess a few of the adults know. And they’re all wondering why—”
“It seemed like a good idea.” Robert paused. The air was cold enough to make puff clouds of his breath. “It started with Bambi. I thought she should go to college someday.”
Matthew nodded. “You’re a generous man. That should make you feel good.”
“It should.”
“But it doesn’t?”
“It’s not enough. The way I see it, I’m missing something.”
Matthew nodded. “Go on.”
“I have too many friends. No, that’s not right. They’re not really friends. They’re only people who like me because I’m rich. Because I have all the toys. Each one of those kids in there has a better friend and is a better friend to someone than I am. That’s a hard realization to come to. If I died, it’s not me people would miss, it’s my toys.”
“You planning on dying?”
“Well, no, not anytime soon.” Robert realized it was hard to pin down the hollow feeling he had. “But if I did—”
Matthew nodded again. “What’s troubling you is that you need to be part of the kingdom and you’re not.”
Robert stopped. He’d heard there were militia groups in Montana. He wondered if he’d stumbled across one. They’d sure love to recruit a rich man like him who could buy them enough ammunition to start a small war.
“The kingdom?” Robert asked cautiously.
“Sure, the kingdom of God,” Matthew said calmly. “It’s all that will fill up that empty feeling. When you’re ready, we’ll talk about it.”
“I don’t think it has to do with God.”
Matthew grinned as he stood. “I know. You think it all has to do with that cute chef inside who’s in need of a dance. If you don’t ask her, somebody else is going to beat you to it.”
“She won’t dance with me.”
Matthew grinned even wider. “Well, maybe not the first time you ask her. But you’re Robert Buckwalter the Third. Way I hear it, you know about all there is about charming women.”
The minister stepped inside the barn and Robert stood up and brushed himself off before following him.
The minister was right. He did know how to charm women. He just wasn’t sure charm would work with someone like Jenny.
The music was softer now. Even the kids were slowing down.
Robert went over to the refreshment table and got a glass of punch to work up his nerve. Jenny was still flitting about filling up coffee cups for those people who were sitting around the edge of the dance space and talking. He’d studied her pattern. She needed to return to the refreshment table to refill her thermal pot after every tenth cup. She was due back any minute now.
When she came back, he would ask her to dance with him.
Chapter Four
“W ell, I hope you’re happy now,” Jenny said as she set the thermal coffeepot down on the refreshment table and glared at Robert Buckwalter. “Throwing your money around like it’s confetti.”
Robert stiffened. He looked around at the teenagers dancing. He hoped no one had told her what he was buying with the money. None of the dancers were looking at him in apology. “No one else is complaining.”
“Of course they’re not complaining.” Jenny turned to the big coffeepot and twisted the knob on its spigot so it would slowly fill the smaller thermal coffeepot. The mellow smell of brewed coffee drifted up from the pot. She looked up and continued her conversation. “What do you expect? They’re teenagers. They love money.”
“Money has its uses.”
Jenny switched off the knob. The small pot was full. And she was tired to the bone. She’d been a fool. There for a blinding moment she’d thought Robert Buckwalter was a regular kind of a guy who just happened to be rich. What kind of rabbit hole had she fallen down? She should know better. No one just happened to be rich. Money changed everyone. “Not everything in the world revolves around money.”
“I know.”
“You can’t buy friends with money—not even the friendship of teenagers.” After Jenny said the words, she corrected herself. Those teenagers certainly spoke of Robert with enough enthusiasm to count him a friend. And the checks were awfully big. She’d seen one of them.
Robert grinned. The kids had managed to keep his secret. Jenny didn’t know why he’d been throwing checks around. “I didn’t give them the money so they’d be my friends.”
“Well, with the size of those checks—they should be something.”
“I’m hoping they will be something someday.”
Jenny looked at him suspiciously.
“Something for themselves. I’m hoping they’ll go to college—maybe learn a trade—be good citizens,” Robert explained. “Grow up to be their own something. What’s wrong with that?”
Jenny was silent for a moment. “Nothing.”
Her sister was right, Jenny thought in defeat. She, Jenny M. Black, was turning into one of those fussy old women. Picking a fight with a perfectly innocent man just because he’d given away some of his money. And that wasn’t even the real reason. The real reason was the kiss. And that was just as foolish. In his social circles, a kiss was nothing more than a handshake.
“Who you give money to is none of my business,” Jenny said stiffly as she put the lid back on the small coffeepot. “I owe you an apology.”
“I’ll