Us meant the Ladleys, the pillars of the community.
“Of course I would,” she said. “Tell your mother I said hello.” She smiled and kept moving. It would be interesting to see how this man, on whom she had once pinned all her hopes and dreams, treated her, once he knew she was no longer the poor little church mouse.
Chapter Four
Positioned at a table by the window that faced the bank, Jude was just about to sink his fork into his savory beef stew in the Llano Crossing Hotel dining room when he spied Delia Keller exiting the bank. He straightened, seeing her almost run into the dapper man who then chivalrously kept her from falling. Jude noted, too, how the handsome swell’s hand lingered a moment longer than was strictly proper on Delia’s elbow.
Jude was surprised by the urge he felt to jump out of his seat and dash out the door, shouting a command for the other man to take his hands off Delia Keller. But then she smiled at her rescuer, and Jude ordered himself to remain where he was.
Obviously Delia knew the man who stared down at her so familiarly, so he needn’t interfere. Delia was in no danger, and the richly dressed fellow speaking to her was perhaps the very sort of man she should be associating with from now on.
However, despite the fact that the encounter had taken no more than a minute at most, Jude couldn’t quash the primitive stab of jealousy that arrowed through him as he saw Delia gift the man with a warm wave of farewell. Involuntarily his hand clenched into a fist as he watched the other man linger to eye the gentle sway of Delia’s hips as she walked down the street away from the bank.
“Care for more coffee, sir?” purred a voice near his ear, and he looked up to see the waitress standing there, steaming pot in hand. She was pretty in a commonplace way, but she grinned as if they were old friends. “I’m Polly. New in town, ain’t ya?” She batted darkened lashes at him and he smelled traces of a cheap floral perfume.
“Thanks,” he said, deliberately ignoring her inquiry and not giving his name in return. In a small town like this she would already know that he was a stranger, anyway. He extended his cup, his gaze returning to the view out the window. Once his coffee had been refreshed, however, the waitress showed no signs of leaving.
“Who’s that fancy gent standing at the bank door?” he asked, the more to keep her from asking him any further personal questions than from a real desire to know.
She put a hand above her eyes to shade them against the glare, then peered through the dusty glass, squinting. For a moment Jude thought she might actually be too nearsighted to answer him. But then she leaned down again.
“Why, that’s Charles Ladley, the mayor’s son,” she said, sighing. “He sure is a good-looking fella. Wish he’d smile at me like that, though I doubt it’ll do that Keller girl any good neither.”
“What do you mean?” Jude kept his voice casual. He knew it was none of his business, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from asking.
Polly gave an elaborate shrug. “Birds of a feather flock together, they say, and the Ladleys have always been as rich as King Midas. The preacher’s granddaughter—Delia Keller, that’s who he was talkin’ to—don’t have two pennies to rub together. ’Specially now that Reverend McKinney’s gone and died. Wouldn’t be surprised if she don’t have to come here and work ’longside a’ me.” There was a trace of satisfaction in her tone as she turned back to Jude.
If only you knew, Jude thought. With Delia’s status about to change radically, she and the mayor’s son would now be on equal footing. Any impediments to a relationship between them were about to melt like icicles in a Texas summer.
Aloud, he said, “Miss Polly, I’m sure the right man is out there, just looking for you. And when you find each other,” he added, trying to sound encouraging, “he’ll be so perfect for you, you’ll be glad you didn’t waste your time with that fellow.” He kept his eyes on Ladley, who was finally entering the bank.
The waitress’s eyes brightened. Jude realized that if he wanted her to go away soon and leave him to his thoughts, he’d said exactly the wrong thing.
“My, that’s an awfully sweet thing for you to say, in spite a’ bein’ a stranger an’ all that,” she gushed in that suggestive voice that wasn’t nearly as inviting as she apparently thought it was. She glanced quickly over her shoulder in an obvious effort to make sure the hotel owner wasn’t watching, then leaned closer. “Where did you say you was from?”
“I didn’t say,” he said, his gaze swinging back to the window, hoping she got the hint.
But Polly was nothing if not tenacious. “You plannin’ on stayin’ ’round these parts? I have to work till seven, but after that I could show you around the town.”
That would take all of about five minutes, he thought. “Thank you, Miss Polly, but I—”
“Or we could go to the church social next Saturday night,” she interrupted. “I know about everyone in Llano Crossing, so that’d be a real nice way to meet folks….”
He felt a twinge of pity for the girl. He hadn’t even given her his name, and here she was laying out the welcome mat. He held up a hand, knowing he had to stem her flow of eagerness. “Miss Polly, much as I appreciate your kindness, I’m not sure what my plans are just yet. I’m not planning on staying long in Llano Crossing, nice as it is. I’m either going to be riding along tomorrow or doing some odd jobs for a while before I head back West.”
Polly’s face fell and her overbright eyes dimmed. “Sure. I understand—just wanted to be neighborly, that’s all. Will you have some peach pie for dessert?”
Jude shook his head and asked her how much he owed. He would have liked some pie, but he thought it best to leave so the waitress could regain her composure. He left her an extra ten cents in addition to the dollar he owed for the meal.
Striding back into the early afternoon sunlight, Jude pondered his options. He could go to the saloon, he supposed.
In the war, he’d spent time in taverns with some of his men—too much time—between the horrendous campaigns that had led to too many lost and shattered lives. Nothing good had ever happened to him, or anyone else as far as he could see, anywhere near such a place. He’d met Nora, after all, as he was coming out of a tavern in Virginia, his judgment clouded with whiskey.
Stop thinking about her. It’s over. You have to learn from it and go on.
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you, the Scriptures promised. All very well, but if he wasn’t going to seek out a card game, what was he going to do with himself?
The smartest thing, he mused, would be to get his horse, Shiloh, out of the livery stable and ride west out of Llano Crossing. He could stop when he felt tired, sleep under the stars and live off the land between here and Nevada. He wouldn’t have to feel responsible for watching over Delia Keller as she navigated her new life of comfort and ease. It looked like there was an even chance the mayor’s son would be more than willing to take over that responsibility.
But didn’t he have a moral obligation to his dead friend, Will Keller, to make sure his orphaned daughter was going to be all right, even if he wasn’t going to marry Delia?
In any case, it was a waste of money to leave Llano Crossing today when he was paid through tonight at the hotel. Tomorrow he needed to have a plan, but tomorrow was soon enough. In the meantime, Shiloh was standing idle in his stall in the livery stable, no doubt eating his head off the unaccustomed rich grain and hay. Maybe the best thing to do was take the stallion on a run over the hills around Llano Crossing. They’d return in the evening, tired but content, and hopefully the silver buckskin’s mile-devouring gallop would have left Jude Tucker’s demons far behind.
Within fifteen minutes, Shiloh