Page 4 of Mail-Order Avis (A Mail-Order Mystery #3)

Four

H e was only trying to help.

Reed wasn’t sure why Avis got his hackles up. There was something about her. Okay, despite the fact that she’d shown up as his mail-order bride unannounced, or that he hadn’t sent for her in the first place, he was angry at whoever was responsible and was taking it out on her.

He cleared his throat as he stared at an empty wall space near the huge cookstove. Reed turned to Alicia and Samuel.

“Yes?” Samuel said.

“It could go there,” Reed said casually. “The second cookstove.”

Miss Prescott gave him a hint of a smile. “Let’s see how everything goes first. I have things to think about, and I need to read over the contract.”

“Of course,” Reed said. “But don’t worry, Samuel and Alicia won’t steer you wrong. They’re good people.”

Miss Prescott glanced between them. “How long have you all known each other?”

“Well,” Samuel said with a nervous chuckle, “Alicia and I were good friends with Reed’s parents. Reed was a teenager when we came west. I kept in contact with Joseph and Sarah all this time, and when they passed, I invited Reed to come here.”

She turned to Reed. “Where are you from?”

“Philadelphia.”

She gave him a slow nod. “Fiddler’s Gap is quite the change, then. Too small for you?”

“On the contrary, I like it very much.” He smiled. “My parents and I owned a restaurant, among other businesses back home. Thus my offer of advice to you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reed, but I’ve worked in my uncle’s café for almost ten years.”

His eyebrows shot up. “When did you start? When you were ten?”

Her mouth pressed into a firm line. “No. I was twelve. He had me washing dishes.” She took on a far-off look, and Reed wondered what she might be thinking.

“Well then,” Alicia said. “You two have something in common. Reed’s parents also owned a general store and a dressmaker’s shop.”

Miss Prescott looked him up and down. “So you’re a jack of all trades?”

“No, Miss Prescott, I’m a businessman, and I know how to run things. Including an entire town, if I had to.”

“Which is why I invited him to come west to Fiddler’s Gap,” Samuel said. “I want Reed to become our town mayor.”

Her eyes widened. “What? But he just got here. Wouldn’t you rather have someone already an integral part of the town be mayor?”

Reed turned to Samuel and Alicia. “It’s nice to know the public’s opinion of our idea.”

She frowned. “Are you mocking me, Mr. Barclay?”

“Not at all,” Reed said. “I just think it’s interesting what people think. You’re the first person to say that. No one else in town wants to run for mayor. They’re too busy.”

“This is why I sent for Reed,” Samuel said. “He’d be perfect as mayor.”

Miss Prescott looked him up and down again and said nothing more. Instead, she went to the icebox and opened it, then inspected the sink and counter space around it. “The kitchen is sufficient,” she finally said.

“We’re glad you think so.” Alicia smiled at her. “Would you like to see the contract now?”

“Yes, very much.” Miss Prescott glanced at Reed as she walked past him toward the dining room.

He waited until they’d all gone, then took one last look around the kitchen.

It was sufficient for the time being. But as the town grew, it was going to need another restaurant.

Preferably something fancy to draw people from Baker City.

They could come here for dinner and a show or a concert.

Ever since Isolde and Ione Weatherford came to town a few years ago and married a couple of local gentlemen, drawing a crowd to a concert was no problem.

But the auditorium could be used for more than that, and Reed wanted to start a theatrical company.

The town could offer plays as well as concerts.

They could even host talent shows and invite folks from all over the state to join in the fun.

He’d always wanted to provide entertainment, but his parents didn’t want to purchase a concert hall.

They thought they’d lose money on the venture.

So they’d purchased a restaurant instead, and he’d managed it.

His father ran the general store, and his mother the dressmaker’s shop.

Reed sold all three and came here to make a fresh start.

He left the café and slowly made his way to the train station.

He didn’t know why. Maybe part of him wondered what it would’ve been like to greet Miss Prescott the moment she got off the train.

If he wanted a wife, he would either have to court someone in Baker City or send off for a mail-order bride.

He’d sure like to know who sent for onefor him. It made no sense. The people he knew were highly educated, mature individuals. None of them would pull such a stunt. It was too far out of character.

Okay, maybe one of the McEnder boys might have done something like this. But why? Mr. McEnder wouldn’t stand for it if he found out, the culprit wouldn’t see anything but chores layered upon chores for months.

He stood on the train platform and walked to the edge.

The track ran parallel to the road between here and Baker City and wound around the town of Fiddler’s Gap to the southernmost edge.

From there, it crossed the road outside of town, giving Fiddler’s Gap a wide berth, running through the countryside straight back to Baker City.

Cyrus Van Cleet and C.J. Branson, the investors, had built a separate train platform in Baker City for the Fiddler’s Gap line.

It cost a lot of money, but when you’re one of the richest men in the country and you own your own railroad, C.J. Branson could afford it.

Reed looked down the track, hopped off the platform, and began walking. What was bothering him? Was it the fact that Miss Prescott was angry?

Yeah, that was part of it. He hated unresolved arguments or disagreements. He’d already apologized, and from the looks of things, if she took over the café lease, she’d have a job and could stay. But what if she couldn’t make a go of it? What if the café failed?

She said she’d worked in her uncle’s café for ten years. How many of those years had she actually cooked? And what if she couldn’t?

He recalled Samuel and Alicia’s request that she cook them a meal. Well, he couldn’t wait to try it. Reed hoped, for Miss Prescott’s sake, it was fabulous. If he knew Samuel, he’d make sure she could cook well before letting her sign the contract.

Reed also hoped everything worked out for her. It was obvious she didn’t want to return to wherever she’d come from. If she had to make a go of it somewhere, Fiddler’s Gap was the perfect spot.

He supposed he felt responsible for her, since she came to be his bride.

So what if he hadn’t had anything to do with it?

It was a cruel joke to play, and every time he thought about it, he seethed.

It was time to speak to Aubrey, the sheriff, and see what he could find out.

Unfortunately, he had no suspects. Reed was new in town and hadn’t had time to make enemies.

Besides, there wasn’t a single unsavory character living in Fiddler’s Gap.

It was as fine a town as there could be.

He followed the track out of town, stepped onto the road, and headed north.

Walking always helped him think. He considered offering to show Miss Prescott around, starting with the park.

Most folks liked walking there, even though it was a bit of a distance.

Some stayed on the train as it crossed the road near the park trail.

Another platform was there, and if you timed it right, you could catch the train to the northernmost part of town.

Of course, the platform there was smaller, and you had to follow a footpath back, but it was a short walk, and on hot days, folks didn’t mind. It saved them a good half-mile.

All in all, he was happy with his decision to come here. Eventually, he’d start a family…

“Morning, Reed...”

He jumped. Reed hadn’t heard Sheriff Cole’s horse come up behind him.

“Sheriff.”

“Sorry to startle you. What are you doing out here? The train didn’t come through, did it? Do I have my days of the week mixed up?”

“No, Sheriff, you don’t. I’m just out for a walk.”

“Ah, I see.” He dismounted. “So, what’s happening with your mail-order bride?”

“The poor woman was beside herself yesterday, but I think she’ll be okay.”

“Is she returning home?”

“No. She says she can’t go back and won’t.”

Sheriff Cole nodded. “I understand. When Penelope came here, she was in a situation where she didn’t dare return. She risked her inheritance becoming my wife, and I’ll never forget her bravery.”

“Your wife is the adventurous sort,” Reed said. “She wanted to come here.”

“Yes, she did. She’s my joy, next to my little ones.” He smiled as they walked. “Are you interested in this mail-order bride?”

“You mean, do I want to marry her?” Reed blew out a long breath. “You do know I didn’t send for her.”

“I know.”

“Then you know I have no intention of marrying her. But I do want to see her settled and able to take care of herself.” He fought against a sigh. Talking about it got him flustered.

“Understandable. What’s she going to do?”

“Alicia and Samuel showed her the café and bakery this morning. They’re going over the contract as we speak.”

“The café?” Sheriff Cole whistled. “Can she even cook?”

“She says she can.” Reed clasped his hands behind his back as they walked. “She’s a pretty thing. Feisty, too.”

Sheriff Cole laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to marry her? Women are still mighty scarce around here.”

Reed chuckled. “I’m sure.” His chest tightened. Was he? He’d only just started thinking about starting a family. But he wanted to get his position as mayor situated first. Once the town was running smoothly, then he’d worry about getting a wife.

“Well, if you don’t snatch her up, I guarantee someone else will.”

Reed gave him a sidelong glance. He was right? Hmmm, considering Miss Prescott’s looks—and the fact that she ran the café and bakery—well, if that didn’t tempt a man, he didn’t know what would. Especially if she was good at it. That meant profit.

His chest tightened again. Reed hoped Miss Prescott could recognize a lazy man when she saw one.

Her situation would attract both the unsavory and the gentleman.

A gentleman would partner with her. A lazy lout would live off her and let her do all the work.

It would be a miserable existence. She’d bury herself in toil, trying to forget how lonely she was.

A slothful man also often gambled, and if he began to gamble away the business’s profits, the real trouble would begin.

“You seem lost in thought today,” Sheriff Cole said. “I’ll see you back in town. I was on my way out to Wilson Mitchell’s place.”

“Forgive me, Sheriff. My mind’s elsewhere.” Reed gave him an apologetic smile and waited while he mounted his horse. He waved as the sheriff cantered off, then turned and headed back to town.

When he reached The Murray House, there was no sign of Miss Prescott. He found Alicia in the kitchen making cookies with Tamsin. “How did it go?” he asked.

Alicia smiled. “We’re happy with the arrangement, and so is Miss Prescott. As soon as we’ve tried her cooking and baking, we’ll get everything signed.”

Reed smiled and eyed the plate of fresh cookies on the worktable. “If she cooks anything like you two, she should do well. But she can’t do all the work herself. She’ll need another cook, a waitress or two, and a kitchen hand.” He smiled at Tamsin. “Would one of your brothers be interested?”

“I’ll ask,” Tamsin said. “But we need to see if Miss Prescott can cook first.”

He grabbed a cookie, then took another. “Indeed, we do.” Reed bit into one as he glanced up. “What do you suppose she’s going to make for dinner?”

“I have no idea,” Alicia said. She glanced at the ceiling too. “But we’ll find out.”