Page 10 of Mail-Order Avis (A Mail-Order Mystery #3)

Ten

T he church office smelled faintly of beeswax, paper, and woodsmoke from the potbelly stove. It wasn’t in use—it was summer, after all—but the scent lingered.

Reed shrugged off his jacket. Even with the window open and a breeze drifting through, he was warm. He’d spent most of the morning helping Avis bake and was just now getting to his business with Samuel.

“How are things at the café going?” Samuel asked.

“Good. She’s got another full house this morning. I’m beginning to feel a little guilty.”

“How so?” Samuel eased into the chair behind his desk.

“On account of the café maybe taking business away from Ellis and Arabella.”

“Nonsense. Ellis has his own guests to cook for. If they’d rather eat at the café than the hotel, that’s their prerogative.

” He reached for a stack of papers and slid them across the desk.

“Notes from the last few months of town meetings. You’ll want to read through those, just so you’re up to speed.

I may have missed a few details when I went over things with you before. ”

“Thanks.” Reed set the stack aside. “What did you want to show me today?”

“Ah, yes.” Samuel rose and crossed to a tall filing cabinet. He opened the top drawer. “This one holds leases, property records, and anything tied to what Cyrus Van Cleet and C.J. Branson have done in town. From the first supplies for the auditorium to the railroad, it’s all here.”

He turned back with a sigh. “We’ll need a proper office for all this one day, but until then, it stays here.”

“Has there been talk of building a meeting hall yet?”

“Yes, and I’m going to bring it up again. We need one. Could even include a few practice rooms, in addition to the ones at the auditorium.”

Reed smiled. “Sometimes I forget most of the town is made up of musicians.”

Samuel grinned. “A meeting hall could also serve as a place to hold dances.” He pulled a file from the drawer and passed it over.

“I didn’t show this to Avis. Didn’t see the need.

But since you seem to have taken an interest in the young woman and her café…

” He let the words hang, then turned back to the drawer with a smile.

“My interest in Avis is purely…uh…” Reed glanced up. “Yeah, well. Thanks.”

Samuel chuckled and pulled a few more folders from the drawer, stacking them on the desk. “She’s mighty pretty. And she can cook, too.”

“Yes. She can cook,” Reed agreed, flipping open the file. “By the way, Walter Penrose. Did he ever mention what kind of family emergency pulled him away from the café?”

“No, just that he had to leave immediately,” Samuel said, resuming his seat. “Why?”

“Avis found a picture of him with his parents. He looked to be in his early twenties. There was a letter, too. Sounded like his parents are deceased. No mention of siblings. I was just curious.”

Samuel leaned back, steepling his fingers. “Hmm. I had no idea. We never asked about his family. He said he was from back east, looking to make a fresh start. Talked about where he was from, mentioned family, but now that I think about it, he could’ve been speaking of when they were still alive.”

Reed nodded slowly, then glanced at the other items Samuel had placed on the desk before turning back to the file. It contained Walter’s original lease, along with supply receipts from when the café was built.

“Cyrus spared no expense,” he murmured.

“No, he did not,” Samuel agreed, picking up a newspaper. “I’m going to sort through these before I take them over to the library. Any particular one you’d like to read?” He glanced at the paper in his hands, then passed another one across the desk.

Reed laughed. “In a minute.” He pulled out a letter.

Dear Mr. Murray,

Thank you for your time and consideration these past months. It’s been truly a pleasure running the café and bakery.

Regretfully, I must cancel the lease. A family emergency has arisen that requires me to return to the East.

Sincerely,

Walter Penrose

Reed stared at it. He still couldn’t fathom what kind of family emergency would make Walter leave town so suddenly and with no intention of returning. He could’ve found someone to run the café in his absence. Then, once the matter was resolved, he could have come back and resumed his work.

So why hadn’t he?

Reed kept looking through the file, brow furrowed, but found nothing else of note.

A soft rustle drew his attention. Samuel was sliding another newspaper toward him.

Reed smiled. Mrs. Ruggles subscribed to all sorts of newspapers from around the country.

Once she was done reading them, she sent them to Fiddler’s Gap with Ives Merriweather, who worked at a tailor’s shop a few days a week.

Samuel would sort through them, then pass them along to the library so the rest of the town could read them.

“Mrs. Ruggles marked this one,” Samuel said. “Said it would be of particular interest to you.”

Reed looked down.

The Chicago Tribune.

Seeking Companionable Wife:

Gentleman in Oregon desires marriage-minded lady of strong moral character to help establish a home and contribute to a growing community.

Sincerely,

Mr. Reed Barclay

Fiddler’s Gap, Oregon

He blinked once. Then again.

The words blurred. Not because they were unclear, but because they were too clear. Polished. Proper. Not a trace of his usual dry wit. It didn’t sound like him at all.

“I didn’t place this,” he blurted.

“I know,” Samuel replied, tapping the ad with one finger. “But someone did. No doubt they sent a letter and money to the paper. Unless they had an accomplice in Chicago who placed it for them.”

“You think this is the only paper it ran in?”

“It’s not in any of the others,” Samuel said. “Mrs. Ruggles told Ives she already checked.”

Reed ran a hand through his hair. “The Chicago Tribune , of all things.”

Samuel shrugged. “Well, it worked out, didn’t it? Miss Prescott may not be what you were expecting, but she’s proven herself a hard-working, honest young lady.”

Reed offered a vague smile. His thoughts were elsewhere. Everything Samuel said was true. But this mail-order bride business was still a burr under his saddle, and he meant to get to the bottom of it. Why would anyone do such a thing?

“Thanks for showing me all this, Samuel. I’ll read through the town meeting notes and return them.”

“Take your time,” Samuel said, returning to his newspaper.

Reed stepped out of the church office and into the sunshine. He started walking, but instead of heading next door to the Murray House to drop off the papers, he turned down Main Street, then onto Juniper.

He paused near the café’s front window. Inside, he caught the silhouette of Avis moving between the front counter and the kitchen. Likely preparing for the lunch rush.

She was a hard worker. A mighty pretty one, too, and he’d be a fool not to take a second look. He’d always figured he’d wait until he was properly established as mayor, had built himself a house, and only then go looking for a wife. But what was wrong with finding one now?

There was a fine woman just on the other side of that café door, waiting to be swept off her feet. And if he didn’t do it, someone else might. A few bachelors had already taken notice, and more folks were moving to Fiddler’s Gap by the day.

Reed sighed. Someone was using her as a pawn in some kind of game. But why? What reason would someone have to bring a mail-order bride to town, and for him, no less?

He stood there for a long while, puzzling. Then finally turned and headed for The Murray House, the town meeting notes still tucked under his arm. He’d get to the bottom of this. Avis deserved better than to be the brunt of someone’s joke.

A slow smile tugged at Reed’s lips. He had to admit, though, part of him wasn’t the least bit sorry Avis Prescott had shown up in Fiddler’s Gap. Even if she had turned his world upside down.

He stopped suddenly, eyes wide. “Is that it? Is that why someone did this?” Reed looked at the stack of notes in his hand, then quickened his step. Maybe, just maybe, there were clues tucked in among them.

Hattie bustled into the kitchen with another order slip in hand. “Another lunch special,” she said, adding it to the stack. She joined Avis at the stove. “Need any help, honey?”

“No, thank you, Hattie.” Avis gave the beef stew a stir, replaced the lid, then pulled a fresh tray of biscuits from the oven.

“That stew of your uncle’s is mighty tasty,” Hattie said. “Jasper out there’s askin’ if he can have another bowl.”

Avis grinned. “Considering all the help he gave me getting this place ready, I suppose I can allow it. But don’t let the other customers find out.” She grabbed a bowl from the stack and ladled it full. “Better give him another biscuit, too.”

“Yes, ma’am. Nothin’ like a man with a healthy appetite. Makes me want to reconsider my vow to never marry again.”

Avis paused, one hand still reaching for biscuits. “What? Hattie, I thought you were set against ever marrying again.”

“I know.” Hattie scratched absently at her side. “But when a good man comes along, it reminds you just how lonely you are. Darn fool men. It’s bad enough they’re hard to live with, but when one catches your eye…” She lowered her hand. “Kinda like Reed’s caught yours.”

Avis flushed. “He has not. He might be the reason I got stuck here but just look at all the good that’s come from it.” Her gaze drifted around the kitchen. “I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be.”

Hattie gave her a crooked smile and nodded. “Just give it time, honey. You’ll be fallin’ soon enough.” She slid the stew and biscuit onto a tray and disappeared into the dining room.

Avis stared after her. “Fall?” she repeated under her breath. She shook her head and turned back to the biscuits. There were sandwiches still to make, and someone had ordered a lunch steak. She had work to do.

But even as she worked, her thoughts wandered to him .

Was it that obvious she was attracted to Reed?

She’d have to be more careful when other people were around.

Good grief , what was she thinking? She needed to be more careful, period.

The last thing she needed right now was an affair of the heart.

She had too much on her plate what with running both a café and a bakery.

Her time and energy had to stay focused here.

And yet…Reed was handsome…

“No. Don’t go there,” she muttered aloud. “No, no, no.”

“No what?”

Avis jumped. Cora Belle had appeared at her elbow.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Do you have an order?”

“No, just checking if Mr. and Mrs. Herber’s meals are ready.”

“Oh, yes, coming right up.” Avis finished Cassius Herber’s plate, then gestured to the rest of the completed orders. “There you are.”

“Thank you.” Cora Belle gathered the plates and carried them out to the dining room.

Avis smiled. Around here, no one called out for Table Ten or Table Four. Everyone knew everybody else.

She finished the next few plates and realized the rush had eased up for now. With a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

She looked around the large kitchen—hot, bustling, full of clatter and clamor—and smiled. She was tired and sweaty, but she loved every minute of it. She liked keeping busy. This was the life she’d dreamed of, and so far, she’d managed to handle it.

Well…with Reed’s help.

But she couldn’t expect that forever. Once he took on the position of mayor, he might not have time to lend a hand anymore.

Avis sighed again. She had to admit, she’d enjoyed his company, even aside from the help. In some odd, unexpected way, she was almost disappointed she wasn’t his mail-order bride. Still, things had worked out. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

Yet…

How long before she wanted somethingmore? Something like…love?