The Marriage Barter. Christine Johnson
Instead of answering, the girl burrowed her head into her mother’s perfectly formed shoulder.
The woman nodded at him, half in fear and half with gratitude. “Thank you. You have no idea how worried I...” She gulped and averted her gaze. “Thank you, truly.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
He wanted to tip that pretty face up so he could get a second look, but she kept her focus on her daughter.
“Yes, well, I should get home to fix supper.” She backed away a step.
“My name’s Wyatt Reed.” Now, why in blazes had he done that? He liked to keep contact with strangers to a minimum. Get in, do the job and get out. No emotional attachments.
“Charlotte Miller.” Her gaze darted up for a moment, and her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.
He wanted to touch that cheek to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, but beauties like her weren’t meant for men like him. Still, he couldn’t stop staring. A man didn’t see all that many pretty women on the frontier. Who could blame him for taking an extra-long look?
“Like I said, I should go home,” she murmured, again backing away.
He cleared his throat, reluctant to let her go. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where to find the mayor.” It was the only thing he could think to ask, even though he already knew where the town hall was located. “Evans, is it?”
“Yes, Mrs. Evans.” Her pretty little chin thrust out with pride.
“Mrs.?” Baxter hadn’t mentioned that little detail.
“Pauline Evans is a fine mayor, every bit as good as her late husband.” She started out strong defending her mayor, but with every word her certainty faltered, as if she’d lost her nerve.
For some reason, he wanted to encourage her. He dug around for a suitable response and found none. “I have business to take care of. Don’t suppose you’d know where I can find her?”
Again, she ducked her head. “You might try the town hall. If not there, then she’d be at home.”
“Town hall?” He pretended he didn’t know where it was to gain a few more seconds with her.
Her color deepened. “I’ll show you there. It’s on my way.”
A peculiar thrill ran through him. She would willingly walk with him through town? It had been ages since any woman walked in daylight with Wyatt Reed. And this one was a beauty. She’d match up to any ballroom belle back in Illinois.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered to Sasha.
Home. The old ache came back, hard and furious. Wyatt Reed wouldn’t find home until he set foot in San Francisco.
“Can you walk?” Charlotte murmured to Sasha, her face aglow with love for her daughter.
Sasha nodded solemnly and slid to the ground. “Go home.”
For the first time, Wyatt noticed the girl’s peculiar accent. Her voice had been too garbled by tears earlier, but now the foreign lilt was unmistakable. Sasha must not be Charlotte Miller’s natural daughter. A knot formed in his gut. That meant she could be one of the orphans.
His simple job just got a whole lot more difficult.
Chapter Two
They found Mayor Pauline Evans huddled over the table at the front of the meeting hall with the Newfield banker, Curtis Brooks, at her side. Whatever they were discussing, it held their attention so thoroughly that they didn’t hear Charlotte and Wyatt enter the room.
The mayor stabbed her finger at a piece of paper. “It’s all detailed here, if you want to read it.”
Mr. Brooks, his dark hair lightly salted with gray, struggled to hold back a grin. “Now, Mrs. Evans, I’m not questioning how the project is being handled. That’s up to you. The bank sent me to supervise the distribution of your town’s loan—nothing more. And from what I can see, you’re doing a fine job with the chore groups and the distribution of the funds. The bank simply needs a report of expenditures, which I see you have right here.” He slipped the paper away from the mayor. “Now, as to the matter of young Master Liam.”
“I believe we’re agreed on that.”
Charlotte felt like she was intruding on private business. Yesterday, Liam McLoughlin, one of the orphans, had run away after Beatrice Ward called him a thief. The poor boy had hidden in a cave until Sheriff Wright found him. Since both the mayor and Mr. Brooks served on the orphan selection committee, they must be discussing what action to take against Beatrice for causing such a fracas.
She motioned to Wyatt that they should come back later. Instead, he rapped on the door frame.
Mayor Evans and Mr. Brooks looked up, startled.
“Charlotte.” A smile sprang to Pauline’s lips. “What can I do for you?” The auburn-haired mayor hurried toward her with genuine warmth. “And Sasha, too.” The formidable woman’s handclasp and smile conveyed sympathy and something else. Worry? No, pity.
Of course Pauline pitied her. She knew the pain of widowhood. Robert Evans had been a fine man, an excellent mayor and a loving husband. His death following the flood had been a harsh blow to the town. Everyone had expected him to take charge of the rebuilding. Only a woman with Pauline’s will and determination could have fulfilled his dying request to take over as mayor.
“I’m not here for myself,” Charlotte said softly as Sasha clung to her skirts. She glanced at Wyatt, who waited in the doorway, hat in hands. “This is Mr. Wyatt Reed. He said he has business to discuss with you.”
Pauline looked genuinely surprised. Contrary to what Wyatt had implied, she must not have been expecting him. “Mr. Reed.”
“Mrs. Evans.” He stepped forward, his boots rapping on the plank floor. “I wonder if I might have a word with you.” He glanced at Charlotte and Mr. Brooks. “Alone.”
Though Charlotte understood that whatever he had to discuss was none of her affair, part of her hated to leave the man. He’d shown kindness to Sasha and had proven worthy of her daughter’s trust.
Mr. Brooks, however, took umbrage. “What is your business, Mr. Reed?” He positioned himself beside Pauline, clearly ready to defend her.
Pauline saw it differently. “I am fully capable of handling city business on my own.” Her curt response left no room for argument. “Your bank might have loaned us money to rebuild, but it does not have any place in council chambers.”
Curtis Brooks, thoroughly chastened, left any protest unspoken. Bowing stiffly, he begged his leave and departed.
Charlotte had to go, too. She cast a shy smile at Wyatt and Pauline. “I should get Sasha’s supper.” Then she left the meeting room.
In the vestibule, she stopped to straighten Sasha’s dress. Rising, she spotted a notice tacked to the wall. In the poor light she could just make out that the orphan selection committee was meeting tomorrow. Maybe someone had stepped forward to take one of the remaining four children. If Pauline removed Beatrice from the committee, more people might step forward. At least there wouldn’t always be someone pointing out each child’s flaws.
Just thinking of the way Beatrice had acted when families first came forward to take in the children made Charlotte fume. If only she could take in more children... But her resources were limited since Charles’s death, and she doubted even a selection committee without Beatrice Ward would entrust another orphan to her.
“I’ve come from Greenville,” she heard Wyatt Reed say.
Charlotte knew she shouldn’t listen, but his voice carried so clearly that she could hardly avoid hearing what he said. She glanced at the door. To leave, she had to cross the entrance