“One moment.” He caught up to her near the porch. “Around here we dress for supper.”
She shook her head. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“We... I...change for supper.” He motioned to his dust-speckled trousers and shirt. It wasn’t necessary to be more formal for the dinner table—particularly when he usually dined alone—but it was a throwback to his growing-up years in England. Truth be told, he rather liked putting on a fresh pair of clothes after a hard day’s work, then sitting down to a delicious meal.
“Change into what?” Her arms were tightly folded again.
Edward cleared his throat. “I’ll put on a suit as I would if we were going to the Sheridan Inn for dinner. And you...well...you can dress in one of those gowns you said you owned.”
“This is a nightly ritual?”
He nodded.
For a moment, her eyes fell shut as if she were summoning patience from deep inside herself. “All right,” she said, opening her eyes. “I shall dress for dinner, darling.”
“Excellent, my dear.”
Spinning on her heel, Maggy marched toward the guest house, her straw hat smacking her pant leg. “But I am not rearranging my hair,” she called back loudly.
Edward chuckled as he headed inside. His good humor continued as he changed into a fresh shirt, trousers, tie, vest and jacket. Normally he looked forward to the quiet that came with taking his meals by himself. Mrs. Harvey ate when she wanted, and McCall felt it important to eat the meals she prepared for the outside staff with the wranglers. Which meant Edward ate alone more often than not. Tonight, though, he found himself looking forward to dining with Maggy. She might be stubborn and far from demure, but he supposed he could see why those qualities were important in a detective, especially a female one.
Had he really almost sent her away hours earlier? He was grateful now that he hadn’t. Did the Lord have a hand in that? Edward wondered as he headed back downstairs. He entered the dining room to find it empty. Should he wait for Maggy by the front door then, or take a seat?
As he was debating what to do, he heard the door swing open and shut, then the clack of heels across the entryway floor. He moved to the doorway of the dining room to meet her. She gripped her trailing skirt with one hand as she approached.
“Suitable for supper?” She did a spin, giving him a full view of her dress.
While it appeared well made, the pale yellow gown looked a few years outdated as Maggy had said, and the dull color of it washed the pink from her cheeks. Surely this wasn’t what a vivacious, engaged young woman ought to wear. Worse still, the carefree, open demeanor she’d displayed during their tour of the ranch had disappeared. She resembled a dressed goose awaiting execution.
“It does suit for supper.”
“But?” She pinned him with a penetrating glance.
Edward shifted his weight as uneasiness coursed through him. “Are all of your dresses similar to this?”
“Yes, I suppose they’re all the same style. Neither noticeably fashionable nor unfashionable. Light colors that don’t catch the eye. No ribbons or trim to come loose and betray that I’ve been poking around where I’m not supposed to be. Simple. Practical.”
Needing a moment to think, he led her by the elbow into the dining room where he pulled out a chair for her.
“What’s wrong with my dress, Edward?” She gave him an arched look as she took a seat.
He helped push her chair in, then sat beside her at the head of the table. “There’s nothing inherently wrong with it,” he hedged. He placed his napkin across his lap and felt relief when Maggy artfully did the same. Apparently, dinner etiquette would not be something they had to master, as well.
Mrs. Harvey’s fortuitous entrance into the dining room kept him from having to think up a polite reply to Maggy’s question. “Evening, sir,” his housekeeper announced as she placed full plates in front of them. “You, too, miss.” She beamed at Maggy.
“There’s been a new wrinkle to the detective plans, Mrs. Harvey.” He hadn’t taken the opportunity to let her know yet. “Maggy will be...” He glanced at the door, then lowered his voice. “I’ve asked her to be my fiancée for the duration of her time here.”
The older woman’s eyes widened. “Your fiancée, sir? Was that your idea to become engaged like that?”
“No,” Maggy interjected as she picked up her fork. “It was mine, Mrs. Harvey. I’m hoping it will allow me to become part of the ranchers’ wives’ club and gather critical information.”
Edward was grateful she didn’t disclose that they already had two suspects among the ranchers. As much as he trusted Mrs. Harvey, he sensed the less he discussed his case with anyone other than Maggy, the better.
Mrs. Harvey trained a shocked gaze at him. “You agreed to this plan, sir? Even after...” She let her words trail out, to Edward’s relief. The woman knew of Beatrice’s deceit, but it wasn’t something he wished to share with Maggy, now or possibly ever.
“Of course. It’s a brilliant one.” He felt Maggy watching him shrewdly.
His housekeeper eyed them in turn once more. “I’ll leave you to your meal then.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harvey.” When the older woman left the room, Edward turned to Maggy. “I’ll offer the blessing.”
Her brows shot upward as she set her fork back down. She looked slightly startled—even a bit chagrined—at his suggestion, but she didn’t appear annoyed. Wordlessly, she lowered her chin. Edward shut his eyes and began to pray. He thanked the Lord for the meal and asked His blessings upon his staff and the investigation, as well.
Maggy’s disconcerted look remained as they began eating. Edward wondered what she thought of faith and religion. If she were truly his fiancée, he would hope to share a similar belief and love of God with her. Beatrice hadn’t. She’d attended church, of course, like the other wealthy families in their social circle, but her faith hadn’t been the anchor that it became for Edward and his sister.
He sampled a bite of food, pushing aside thoughts of Beatrice and the past. “I think you’ll find Mrs. Harvey’s fare quite above any boardinghouse or restaurant.” He shot Maggy a smile. “That’s partly the reason I asked her to accompany me to America.”
“The food is delicious,” Maggy agreed. “So you’ve known Mrs. Harvey a long time.”
It was more a statement than a question, but he nodded anyway.
“What did she mean about you agreeing to our plan ‘even after?’”
Edward stifled a groan, though he wasn’t surprised Maggy had not only caught his housekeeper’s slip but remembered it, too. “Nothing of consequence.” He took another bite, though he tasted little this time.
“Have you been engaged before?” Maggy inquired, her expression one of innocence. But Edward knew better. Her blue eyes were glowing with that same determination and tenacity he’d seen several times already.
He shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Not officially anyway. Though I did believe there was an understanding between myself and a young lady.”
There, he’d told her all he wished to reveal. Even his vague description of his and Beatrice’s time together had resurrected the long-buried sting of her rejection. He didn’t wish to dwell on it anymore.
“What you need is a new wardrobe,” he declared, only too happy to return to the earlier topic. Maggy’s irritation over what he thought of her dresses was far safer and less painful than reopening the past.
She studied him a moment and Edward had a sudden urge to ask what she observed. Did she see the often