When all was ready, Dolly looked proudly at her spread. She’d used her best china, which had been her mother’s, and had put little cordial glasses by each plate. “For after dinner,” Dolly explained in a prim low voice. “I thought we should welcome Mr. Pendergast properly.”
“Everything looks fine,” Cecilia said without enthusiasm. Greeting this particular guest properly, to her mind, would have entailed meeting him at the door with both barrels loaded.
Steps sounded on the staircase, as well as the ker-thlump footfall of Fanny Baker and her cane coming from the parlor, where the elderly widow spent most of her days. Jubal’s spinster cousin, Lucinda, quietly made her way in, her nose wrinkling nervously at the sight of the china. Lucinda was shy.
At the sound of approaching heavy footsteps, Cecilia hastily straightened her clothing and ran a smoothing palm over her hair, which she’d pulled in a high bun, much like Dolly’s, away from her neck. If only it wasn’t so hot! She would have felt much more confident meeting her adversary if she wasn’t half-wilted.
When Pendergast finally appeared, she was glad to note that he was wilted, too. Dust still showed on his brown suit, although it was obvious he’d made an effort to brush it off, and his hair was damp with sweat. He’d changed his shirt underneath that awful herringbone vest, which served to work Cecilia up to the proper level of annoyance.
More laundry.
“What a beautiful table, Mrs. Hudspeth,” Pendergast said with a gusto that surprised Cecilia. “I had no idea you were planning a feast for this evening.”
In Dolly’s modest parlor, Eugene Pendergast appeared much taller than Cecilia had remembered, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was nearly handsome. His thick brown hair had a rakish curl at the brow, if the word rakish could be used in context of the schoolmaster. Not only that, but his build was much more impressive than Cecilia had noticed before. This made her more suspicious still. A person didn’t develop muscles like that by reading books!
But more than anything else, his dark eyes captured her attention, eyes as dark as two glistening coals. Their gaze was intense, wary...and very much interested. A little shiver of awareness worked its way down her spine, but Cecilia wasn’t so overcome that she overlooked the tiny lines in the man’s weathered face, especially around those dark, fascinating eyes. Up close, it was clear the man had spent a great deal of his life in the outdoors.
In a dither over her big dinner, Dolly blushed and smiled and showed Mr. Pendergast his place as Fanny Baker entered the room and went directly to hers. Cecilia stood behind her own chair, anticipating the moment when her foe would address her. They awaited Mr. Walters, who, other than working at Beasley’s store and taking his meals at Dolly’s, was rumored to be something of a recluse. This label never failed to confuse Cecilia, since practically all of the man’s waking hours were accounted for and spent in public.
“I suppose you don’t think much of our town, Mr. Pendergast,” Cecilia said, irritated further that the man had yet to greet her.
“Ah, Miss Summertree.” He looked upon her as though she was an annoying little gnat that had landed behind a place setting. “I had thought you would be back on the ranch by now.” Pendergast kept his expression veiled, but his words made it clear that he had hoped not to see her.
She smiled in triumph. It was obvious he’d assumed he had turned her out. Good. “Not at all. You see, Mr. Pendergast, I’m very resourceful.”
“Then how lucky for myself and all of Annsboro to be graced with your lovely presence for...how long, did you say?”
Cecilia looked at him squarely. “Indefinitely.”
The word went down like a bitter pill. It took all the fortitude Jake could muster not to let out a weary sigh. He’d finally guessed that the man named Watkins, Pendergast’s old school chum, didn’t live in Annsboro. At least the man hadn’t made an appearance, and no one else had mentioned his name again. Maybe he was the old schoolteacher. Jake had hoped that Cecilia Summertree wouldn’t live in Annsboro much longer, either.
“So you see,” Cecilia said, smiling wickedly, “I’ll be able to help you along, just as Lysander Beasley instructed.”
He knew that nothing would have pleased Cecilia more than seeing him squirm, so Jake kept his disappointment to himself. The woman had him up a tree, but maybe it was for the best. As long as she was around, his guard would be up. Her presence reminded him that he couldn’t afford to lapse into his old self. Not for a while, at least, until he was no longer a stranger in town, or even better, when he actually left Annsboro.
Already he was praying for that day.
Uncomfortable chitchat followed until Walters finally arrived. The balding man nodded mutely when presented to Pendergast, and finally the company sat down to devour the chicken, snap beans and rolls that Dolly had prepared. Jake was happy to eat the tasty meal in silence, although he should have known such good fortune couldn’t last.
“I wish you’d tell us about your home,” Cecilia said, not two minutes into the meal. She primly wiped her lips with her napkin. “I’m sure Annsboro is a far cry from Pittsburgh.”
“Philadelphia,” he corrected.
“That’s right.” She smiled, though Jake could have sworn she looked disappointed that he actually remembered the city he’d supposedly come from. “Still, it must be a far cry from here.”
Even without having come within a thousand miles of Philadelphia, Jake knew her words to be an absurd understatement. Annsboro was a far cry from any town he’d ever been in.
Pleasant, you have to be pleasant. Buying time, he cleared his throat and swallowed. “The chicken is wonderful, Mrs. Hudspeth,” he said, enjoying both Dolly’s warm smile and Cecilia’s expectant fidgeting across the table. Before she could pounce on him for not answering, he said, “All I can say about Annsboro is that it seems a...one-of-a-kind sort of town.”
Dolly nodded eagerly. “You wouldn’t believe how much development we’ve seen here, Mr. Pendergast.”
No, he wouldn’t have believed it. “I heard Beasley’s building a drugstore.”
“And just in time, too,” Dolly said enthusiastically. “We have nearly thirty families in Annsboro now.” She darted a glance toward Cecilia, who couldn’t keep a frown off her face at the blatant lie. “Well, in the environs, anyway,” Dolly explained.
“Dirt farmers,” Fanny Baker said flatly. Fanny had been among the first ranching families to settle the area over a decade before, and although the Bakers had since lost their land, she still retained her rancher’s snobbery toward the late-arriving farmers. “Most of them probably won’t last through the winter, but there will be more to replace them when they leave. Everyone wants their own land, even if it’s just a parcel of dust. Only the really large ranchers, ones whose lands encompass enough water, can survive out here.”
“I suppose that includes the Summertree ranch.” Jake couldn’t quite keep all the sarcasm out of his tone as he turned on Cecilia. He’d known big ranchers, and worked for them. He’d also sent one to jail, and was paying highly for it.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that some of us don’t sympathize with the smaller farmer,” Cecilia said, bristling. How dare he attempt to insult her! What did this man from Philadelphia, if he truly was from there, know about this world?
Now more than ever, she hoped to make short work of getting this man out of town.
Dolly laughed nervously in an attempt to calm her feuding diners. “I’m afraid we’re all very opinionated here, Mr. Pendergast.” She frowned at her young friend. “Even the women.”
Jake smiled warmly. “It’s