Page 8 of May I Kiss the Bride

“IT’S TOO SMALL,” ELSIE DECLARED, setting her small hands on her tiny hips, reminding Rey of his wife for the umpteenth time.

Seeing his daughter after being gone a couple of weeks had been surreal, since when he picked her up at her grandmother’s home in San Francisco, he could have sworn Elsie had grown another foot and an even bigger attitude. Her opinions were certainly more decided than he remembered them ever being.

“The dress is the biggest size in a party dress that you have.” Rey eyed both their reflections in the brass-framed mirror.

Elsie’s strawberry-blonde hair, so much like her mother’s, had been braided into two rows, courtesy of Barb.

Her green-and-white-checkered dress with a ruffled collar might be a little tight around the torso, and the sleeves a little short, but as long as the dress buttoned and the girl could breathe all right …

Elsie biting her lip was never a good sign though. Usually, it was the precursor to tears. He had to think of something fast.

Leaning down, he said, “Tell you what, darlin’. On Monday we’ll head into Cheyenne, and you can pick out a new dress or two.”

Elsie’s blue eyes lit up. “Ready-made?”

“Ready-made.” Buying fabric and having Barb sew something up would be less money, but indulging his daughter wouldn’t harm anything if done once in a while.

Elsie grinned, and Rey knew it would all be worth it because she pranced away. “I need to find ribbons to match this dress. Can you help tie them, Papa?”

“Of course.” He followed after her as she crossed the room and opened a small drawer at the top of her bureau. It had been his wife’s bureau, and although he’d packed many things away, Barb had helped him select items that Elsie could use now.

One of those was a box of various colored ribbons. Now Elsie opened the box and pulled out two green ribbons. She handed them over to Rey, and with a bit of fumbling at first, he managed to tie bows at the ends of her braids.

When Elsie next looked in the mirror, there was no pouting, only smiles.

As they headed out into the early evening light, Rey breathed in the fresh air.

Much better than that of San Francisco. He understood why his mother wanted to live in a city with so much convenience, but for Rey, he planned on living out the rest of his life in Mayfair.

He knew that the day might come when his daughter might make another choice, but for now, he’d be grateful for their time together.

“Are you going to dance with the ladies?” Elsie asked as she perched next to him in the driver’s seat of the wagon.

“Hi-yah,” Rey called to his trusty horse as he snapped the reins. The horse plodded forward. “I’m going to dance with you, Elsie. And you’re a lady.”

Elsie wrinkled her freckled nose at this. “I’m just a little girl, Papa. And you’re too tall for me to dance with.”

Rey chuckled. “How about you stand on my boots like we’ve done at home?”

“Maybe.” Elsie lifted one of her small shoulders. “Barb says that a man gets lonely when he doesn’t have a wife.”

Rey’s laughter died at that, and he peered at his daughter. “Barb said that, huh? Maybe Barb should mind her manners.”

“One of my friends in San Francisco has a new mama.” Elsie linked her arm through his. “Her mama died too, and her papa married another woman. She’s very nice and let us try on makeup.”

Rey didn’t know what to focus on. The fact that his eight-year-old daughter had put on makeup or that she had a friend he didn’t know about. His mother hadn’t mentioned anything about new friends with new mothers. He’d definitely be writing a letter when he returned home tonight.

“I’m happy for your friend, and her, uh, step-mother sounds like a nice woman.”

“She’s very nice,” Elsie said in a wistful tone.

Rey supposed he should have known this day would come sooner than later. Elsie didn’t remember her mother, since she’d been only three when she died, but she still missed having a mother all the same.

It was just that … well, Rey didn’t know if his heart could take another loss.

Either for him or for his daughter. Besides, if he was set on staying in Mayfair, that narrowed any marrying options significantly.

Women from Cheyenne might not want to move to such a tiny spot.

Certainly no woman from San Francisco would ever consider moving into the wilds.

Now, why had he gone and connected that city of all places to himself? Surely it was because he’d just returned there to pick up Elsie. No other reason.

“I’ll tell you what, darlin’,” Rey said. “If there’s a woman you think I should ask to dance with tonight, then I will. Otherwise, I’m happy with just the two of us, all right?”

Her head bobbed in a brisk nod. “All right, Papa. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

Rey chuckled. “Don’t make it too obvious though. I don’t want anyone matchmaking for me.”

“What does matchmaking mean?”

“Ah.” Maybe he’d put his foot in his mouth. “Sometimes people think they know who a fella should marry, so they make introductions and so on.”

“Like Barb?”

“What about Barb?”

“I heard her telling you about Miss Cannon’s niece and how she’s a pretty lady. Smart too.”

Rey’s throat felt like he’d swallowed a cup of dirt. “Uh … I didn’t know you’d overheard that conversation.”

“Oh, I did.”

Rey might have laughed, but the last thing he needed was Elsie latching her sights onto Viola Delany.

Out of all the women in all of Wyoming, she’d be the last one he’d ever court.

Not because he didn’t agree with Barb—Viola was a pretty lady and very smart …

and other things like intriguing, easy to talk to, prim and proper, yet caring, even when she was being bossy …

But Viola Delany belonged in another place. San Francisco. Her checkered cotton dresses and flour-dusted aprons didn’t fool him. The woman had dreams, and she should follow them. Even if it went against her parents’ wishes.

“Miss Delany is a fine woman,” Rey said, because he had to say something to get Elsie’s mind turned around. “She’s only here for the summer though, to help out her aunt. She has a whole other life in San Francisco, and I’m afraid that even if I did ask her to dance, it wouldn’t make her like me.”

“She doesn’t like you?”

All right, so he was mixing up all his words. “She likes me as anyone in town might like the sheriff who helps out. But she doesn’t like me like a woman likes a man she might consider, uh, marrying.”

He felt his daughter’s penetrating gaze on him. “Did you ask her if she likes you?”

He looked down at her. “Hey, I thought you were eight. Not seventeen.”

Elsie’s cheeks dimpled—just like her mother’s had. “You’re funny, Papa.”

Nudging her, he said, “I’ll dance with a lady who is from town. You pick. Just don’t choose someone who’s going to disappear in a couple of months.”

“All right, Papa.”

So, it was that simple. Rey should be relieved, but he was far from relieved. He was thinking about Viola Delany at the barn dance. She’d be asked dozens of times, he was sure. All those men lined up at the bakery each day would be vying for her attention. She might not even notice him.

He tried to think of the other women in town. There were a couple of dozen women in their twenties and thirties, unmarried, or widowed … women his daughter could choose from. But none of them he was looking forward to seeing.

They joined other wagons and carts on the road leading to the Riley barn. It was the newest one in town, so it had been unofficially elected for the dance. Light spilled from the wide-open double doors, and it sounded like Old Jennings was already fiddlin’ up a storm.

“There’s Lucy and her brother!” Elsie suddenly said, pointing toward the family who was walking into the barn. “Can I go in with them?”

“Of course.” Rey’s heart stung a little. They hadn’t even stopped their cart, yet Elsie was already wanting to spend the time with her friends. Not that he blamed her. She’d been gone for three weeks, and he’d become boring old dad.

And it wasn’t like he was going to remind her that she’d been intent on matching him with a dance partner. No, he’d be happy if she clean forgot that part of their conversation.

“Hello, Sheriff!” Jana Hixon called out just as they climbed out of their cart. Jana was a woman in her sixties who rode horses more than she walked. Her swagger tonight was hidden by a wide-hemmed skirt that she probably only broke out once a year.

“Jana, a fine evening to you.”

“Good to see you up and about,” Jana continued as they walked toward the barn doors. Elsie skipped on ahead and joined her friends without even a glance back at him. “All healed up?”

“All healed up.”

“Oh goodness.” Jana stopped in her tracks. “What a spread. I’ll be by the pie table if anyone needs me.”

Rey looked over at the long tables set up on the far side of the barn.

Tradition held that families brought their favorite pie, and everyone could try various kinds.

Beth Cannon always brought a dozen or so from her bakery.

She’d made it a habit of presiding over the pie table and serving up slices.

He scanned for signs of Beth but didn’t see her. Another woman seemed to be arranging the pies this year. A blonde woman whom Rey recognized, even though her back was to him. His pulse did a strange sort of leap just knowing that Viola Delany had come to the barn dance after all.

He wasn’t the only man who’d noticed her, of course. In fact, one was approaching her now.

Wallace.

Rey didn’t know if he should be concerned or not. Certainly Wallace had learned his lesson from being kicked out of the bakery. To Rey’s knowledge, the man hadn’t been back since. So what was going through Wallace’s mind now?

Rey began to thread his way to the other side of the barn, greeting others as he moved. Elsie was busy chattering and running around with her friends. When he was about halfway across the space, Wallace reached Viola, and she turned to face him.

Her smile was bright, but Rey didn’t miss the way she gripped her hands tightly in front of her.

Wallace said something, and Viola pointed to the rows of pies.

Wallace stepped closer, sweeping off his hat.

Viola stepped back. Wallace said something, and Viola shook her head.

Then she moved around the table, putting the pies between her and Wallace.

Wallace frowned and gestured about something.

Viola’s smile remained in place, but she shook her head again and folded her arms.

“Good evenin’, Wallace,” Rey said, arriving at his side. “Tried any of the pies yet?”

Wallace spun to face Rey, his expression going slack. “You sure seem to like pies as well, Sheriff.”

“I don’t think there’s a soul in Mayfair who doesn’t like a fine piece of pie,” Rey said.

Wallace blinked, then nodded, as if he were trying to figure out if this was just a friendly conversation or something more.

Rey looked over at Viola. “Hello, Miss Delany. Fine evening.”

Her mouth quirked, but she responded with a polite, “Hello, Sheriff. It is a fine evening.”

Wallace seemed to hover. Rey remained by the table, scanning the pies as if each and every one was fascinating.

Finally, with an exaggerated huff, Wallace walked off, placing his hat firmly upon his head.

“Would you like to try a piece?” Viola asked, picking up the pie spatula.

“I would,” Rey said. “But maybe in a few moments.”

She set down the spatula. “Any excitement on your recent journey?”

“You mean like stopping a train robbery?”

Her smile was soft. And there went Rey’s pulse leaping about again. “Something like that.”

“Nothing so exciting.” He nodded toward his daughter and her friends. “Unless you count Elsie spilling her ice cream on my hat.”

“Oh goodness.” Viola sounded like she was about to laugh. “That’s quite the disaster.”

“Quite.”

She did laugh then, and Rey found himself grinning. He really should move on. Speak to other townsfolk. Make sure that any rabble-rousing was kept at minimum.

“Tell me about your daughter. Her name is Elsie, right?”

“Right. She’s eight years old, going on about sixteen.”

“Ah.” Viola’s smile was back. “I heard that quite a lot from my parents. But look at me now. Twenty-seven and perfectly respectable.”

“You’re twenty-seven?” Rey couldn’t hide his surprise.

“Yep, I’m a spinster. A jaded spinster at that.”

“Jaded? Did a man do you wrong?”

“You could say that, Sheriff Rey.” Her gaze moved away from him. “Hello, Billy. Are you needing a slice of pie?”

Rey hid his scowl as he looked over at the man who’d interrupted.

Billy twisted a ratty hat in his hand as he held it against his heart. “I’d like to ask you to dance, miss.”

“Oh, you are sweet for asking,” Viola said. “I’m working the pie table this evening. Won’t be dancing at all. Now, I’m sure there’s several other ladies who’d be happy to dance with you. Bring her back here for a piece of pie after.”

Rey wanted to shout in triumph. Apparently, Viola was quite smooth at turning away the fellas.