CHAPTER 3

C HAPTE R 3

When the girls arrived home, Ava tucked their purchases into her bedroom drawer, just in case Gracie went snooping in Blanche's. She peeked in while passing, and by the state of its disorder, her mother very well might feel the need to tackle the clutter.

While freshening up and waiting for her cousin's return, she heard a tapping on the door. She opened it to find Blanche standing there holding a vase of long-stemmed flowers. "These arrived at the front door, and the card is addressed to Miss Ava Gardner."

"Me? No one knows me here."

"The card might give us some hints as to the identity of your admirer."

"Nonsense. I've only been here overnight, although I walked downtown this morning. Who could have noticed me enough to warrant sending flowers?"

The girl's eyes bulged with anticipation and impatience as she withdrew the envelope and passed it to Ava. "This might help." She made no sign of moving, even after Ava took the vase and set it on the table by the door.

"A mite curious, aren't you, Blanche?"

"I'm curious about everything, but Mama has another name for it: meddling."

Ava withdrew the card from the tiny envelope and read it aloud for Blanche's benefit. It was ridiculous to think she had an admirer in Blazer. She knew a total of three men; Slate, Mr. Shilling and that dreadful passenger she hoped never to encounter again. If it were Mr. Shilling, why wouldn't he have saved the generous token for their dinner tomorrow evening?

‘"Welcome to Blazer."'

"That's it? Not signed, ‘Love, from…somebody?" Blanche's face filled with confusion. "No one gives flowers without expecting credit for the effort."

Ava thought she'd enlighten the girl. "I suspect they might be from Mr. Shilling. We traveled together in the stagecoach—perhaps he wanted to be kind to the newcomer."

"Is that the man you were talking to in town?" Blanche did not wait for confirmation. "He was so handsome. The most striking figure of a man I've ever seen walking down our streets."

"He asked me to dine with him tomorrow night."

Blanche rolled her eyes. She leaned her body against the wall, crisscrossed her arms at her chest, and groaned with glee. "He's our man…well, not my man, but definitely yours. You sure did snag a looker."

"Mr. Shilling has not been snagged, Blanche Yagger. He is merely showing some kindness to one of the few people in town he knows. It must be monotonous eating alone when he does business in each new location. Most likely, he just yearns for some company."

"I like my theory better," Blanche stated confidently. "The man is spellbound by your loveliness, and the tiny bit of conversation one is able to make while speaking freely in a stagecoach filled with listening ears has only piqued his interest in you."

Another voice sounded behind her, and Gracie came into view. "Are you bothering Miss Gardner with your crazy romantic ideas?"

Blanche pointed to the bouquet. "Your cousin has an admirer, and she's only been here one day. How shall we keep the men from hammering down our front door once the news of her arrival leaks out?"

Gracie scuffed the top of her head. "Go comb your hair and get ready for your class. The morning has slipped away, and you should have a snack before you leave."

"Aw, Mama," Blanche groaned. "Make her tell you about Mr. Shilling—the most gorgeous man in all of Blazer, maybe for miles around."

"Mr. Shilling?" Her brows raised as she grinned at Ava.

"You met my fellow stagecoach passenger to whom I gave directions to the hotel at the depot yesterday. He's definitely not my secret admirer, " she cast a warning glance in Blanche's direction, "or anything for that matter. The man is here on business, and when it's completed, he will leave on the same coach he came in on."

"Aw shucks. He'd be quite the catch," Blanche said, shuffling off to her bedroom. "Best get ready for school. I'll be glad when I'm old enough to do as I please all day long."

"Such a day is nonexistent, young lady," Gracie called after her and then looked at Ava. "That girl is so excited having you here; her brain is in a muddle."

"I enjoyed spending the morning with her. She showed me around your town."

"I'm glad she filled the void after I abandoned you. The Charring family lost their son last week, and Mary's not been herself. The grieving youngsters feel neglected with their mother's heart distracted and unable to comfort them, so I try my best to bring them treats and play games with the little ones."

"I can help to lessen the load for you."

"I will take you to visit soon, perhaps tomorrow—it might brighten Mary's day."

"Not during the supper hour," Blanche said as she passed the women again, going the opposite way in the hallway toward the kitchen.

"That dress has a rip in the hem, girl. Why didn't you put it in the sewing basket?"

"My foot got stuck in the bottom. It's just a little rip—the teacher will never notice." Blanche winked at Ava. "Mama, be sure to ask your cousin about her plans for tomorrow night." With that stick of dynamite fused, she skipped from view, singing a love ditty.

Gracie faced Ava and grinned. "Tomorrow night?"

"Mr. Shilling originally asked me to dine with him tonight, but I told him you'd invited company, so he switched it to the next night. The man must be bored silly when his work day is done, and he has no one to chat with."

"Interesting," Gracie said. "Probably sent the flowers, too. Fellows do that sort of thing when they're wooing a lady."

"He is not wooing me. The man is not setting up residence in Blazer, and I am, so that's the end of the little romantic agenda you and your daughter are drumming up."

"Fine. Subject dropped for now," Gracie said. "I'm running behind and wondered if you might help in the kitchen. I hate to ask you to prepare the food for your own party, but I want to make it special for everyone, and the Holiday youngsters can be so picky."

"You know I haven't cooked a meal in years, right?"

"I recall, from your letters that old Sookie worked in the kitchen and fed the saloon employees. Some days, I wish I had my own cook," Gracie said, leading Ava down the hallway by the arm.

"Sookie is still there, and he made it clear he did not want any of us to darken his doorway when he was preparing meals," Ava said. "Ma set me to work with Pa on the farm, choosing to teach my younger sister, Jenny, how to run a household, so I lost out on training at home as well."

"Well, I can teach you the basics, but I'm not a fancy cook. Skylar has been a godsend in helping me fit in and run Slate's home with some sort of efficiency. And Blanche is always willing to help, which surprises me. Knowing her deceased mother gave the young girl far too many chores for her age, I try not to burden her with menial tasks."

"Eating is not a menial task, cousin. She will appreciate the discipline when that tall, dark stranger sweeps her off her feet someday."

"Oh, my—she is a child who has grown up far too fast in my opinion. Slate will not be recommending suitors for a long time to come."

"I agree. She is young and has a chance for a wonderful childhood, unlike us," Ava said. "It is obvious that Blanche loves you and Slate and the life you've provided for her in Blazer. She will grow up strong in mind and emotions and make you both very proud."

The girl darted for the entrance and nearly tripped over the ladies at the doorway to the kitchen, speaking as she went. "I took an apple for the teacher, Mama. She must be plumb worn out, trying to make Deardra understand anything as complicated as a college exam. That girl should stay home, marry Jim Stone who is crazy about her, and forget about a higher education."

"Goodbye, Blanche," Gracie said, rolling her eyes. "Have a good afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am. My brain is operating just fine." The door slammed behind her, and Ava saw the figure race past the window on her way to town.

"That girl will give me premature gray hair."

"She is a delight. I think we will be great friends."

Shep and Skylar Holiday arrived promptly at six with their three children. Dakota was the eldest, a handsome lad at five, and Chrissy was a very adventurous three-year-old who loved to explore her surroundings and had everyone on the lookout for the next exploratory crash. In a basket squirmed Simon, the baby of the family, whose flailing arms and feet seemed to suggest he might be a match for his rambunctious sister.

The men and children disappeared into the other room, and the three ladies prepared to serve the meal.

"Gracie, you look tired," Skylar said. "Are you getting enough sleep? You've waited a long time for this baby, and now you need to look after yourself so you'll be strong enough for the birthing."

"I know. It's just that there are so many hurting folks, and I want to help."

"You'll be of no help if you make yourself sick." Skylar looked at Ava. "Your cousin takes on far too much. She needs to relax more. I hope you have influence over her where I have failed."

"I know she wants this baby, but she finds it equally hard to sit still. I have offered to help with the Charring family who are grieving a lost son."

"One of her many missions. That woman is so grateful for her second chance with Slate that she feels it her duty to show compassion to all of Blazer's hard luck cases."

"I shall try my best to rein her in, Skylar." Ava could relate to the compulsion to fix other's problems as payback for someone having rescued her. Yet, in her case, at that particular moment in time, the motivation would be wrongly placed. Gracie seemed to glow with some inner force Ava did not understand. Perhaps the new religion she'd mentioned on occasion in her letters was the agent spurring her on to do good works. She would have to ask her cousin one day. The discussion might help her manage to keep sitting in one spot, thus forcing her to rest.

"And how did you enjoy your first day in our town?" Skylar asked.

"Young Blanche showed me around, and it all felt very comfortable, like a safe place one might settle in and call home. I am glad I chose to come here." She did not mention her reaction to the saloon. There was one to be found in every town, and she'd simply have to deal with its presence in Blazer rather than let the fears it triggered consume her.

"And there is a gentleman caller on the prowl," Gracie said in a teasing voice as she scooped the mashed potatoes into a serving bowl.

"A gentleman caller—already?" Skylar's eyes beamed, and in apparent reminisce, added, "I remember those days."

"Mr. Shilling is just a man I met on the stagecoach who is here temporarily on business. There is nothing long-lasting about him ‘calling' on me, Ava said, hoping that would end the discussion.

"But he sent flowers. Only men who are serious about making a good impression on a lady send flowers." Gracie ducked Ava's swat and went to place the full bowl on the table. "We're almost ready—how about you call the family in from the parlor, Ava? Skylar, you can make up plates for the young'uns before we all gather at the table."

Skylar nudged Ava playfully as she passed her. "Flowers, Miss Gardner? Gracie is right about men hereabouts not sending flowers for no good reason. I'd guard my heart if your admirer plans on leaving."

"No fear there, Skylar, as it is too early for me to entertain men. They are in my far distant future."

"Oh, love seldom works that way, my dear," Skylar said, removing three small plates from the shelf, "but some things are best learned in time. We shall see."

Ava felt confident with her timetable, and she was determined to stick to her plans to modify her character to respond as a lady should. The task would require her entire body, soul, and mind to come into agreement, which the liberated woman knew would be a learning process. Her foremost goal was to replace her trained, flippant interactions with men into something that would support a relationship of deeper value.

Being among the people seated around Gracie's table would make such a character transition possible.

Orson sat alone in his hotel room with a tray he'd ordered from the kitchen. He was not a loner, and he missed people, especially the ones he knew and loved. The strangers occupying his efforts this past year were exhausting, and if he hadn't promised his wife on her death bed to pursue the ghosts that plagued him, he'd have long abandoned the mission that had gone awry.

The walls seemed to close in around him. He jumped up, grabbed his hat, and left his second-floor room for the outside and a dose of fresh air. He walked along the storefronts and stopped to stare at the activity surrounding the saloon. Orson had witnessed Ava staring long and hard at the house of ill-repute earlier, and he wished to know the directions her thoughts had taken her.

He crossed the street and continued until the shops and noise were behind him. When the sign marking the town's limits came into view, he recalled the instructions to the Yagger place given to him by Ace, the hotel owner. It was nearby, and curiosity spurred him on. When he rounded the corner, he recognized the two-story building that had been described to him.

Light shone through the windows. Orson heard a piano playing an upbeat tune and children squealing. The family had provided a fine welcome for Ava, the newcomer. That alone encouraged him, instilling hope that his mission would not be a total waste of time and money.

When the door opened, it startled him, and he stepped into the shadow of a tree. Sounds of a baby crying drifted to the end of the walkway, and he saw Ava bouncing a bundle in her arms and pacing back and forth across the length of the porch. When the crying continued, she descended the steps and started down the cobblestone path, stopping to show the infant the display of flowers. The moonlight illuminating the couple made Orson catch his breath.

She was gorgeous. Dare he believe that her beauty reached the inside? He leaned against the trunk, and his foot slipped on some damp leaves underfoot. The noise attracted the woman and he heard her gasp.

Before she fled back to the porch, he called out, "It's only me, Miss Gardner."

She halted her escape and twisted to face the shadow the tree had cast from the post lantern on the roadway where he stood.

"Mr. Shilling—is that you?"

He stepped into the open. "You've caught me. I never intended to spoil your party. I will leave now."

"You can stay a few minutes," she said. "I think the baby prefers the sound of your voice to the music inside. It's the first time he's quieted since the after-dinner festivities started."

"It's likely past his bedtime. Children react best to schedules."

"You are familiar with the likes and dislikes of babies, sir?"

"I am." Should he tell her he had a daughter at home? His heart weakened at the picture of the woman as she stood there cradling the child. "My daughter is six-years-old now, but when she was young, there were many nights we disrupted her schedule and dealt with the consequences for days afterward."

"You never said you were a family man."

He saw the surprise on her face and suspected her mind weighed the honor of his dinner invitation.

"My wife died three years ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Shilling."

"It's getting easier, but I miss my little Sheena when I am gone on business."

"Sheena is a different name. I'm not sure I've heard it before." Ava moved closer to the road to stand at the gate, a few feet away from Orson.

"My wife was a tad eccentric, but we made a go of it. My mother liked her, and she is a hard woman to satisfy."

"Does your mother look after Sheena when you are away from home?"

"She does. I owe her a lot." He studied her. "Are your mother and father still alive?"

"No, my parents and sister caught the plague years back when the outbreak came to town. I am alone except for my cousin, Gracie."

"My condolences," he said. "Mrs. Yagger must think a lot of you to throw you such a grand welcome party."

"We only met once when I was very young, but she found me a few years ago, and we have exchanged letters ever since."

"Then she barely knows you? Unless of course, women can share in words on paper as effectively as they can face to face?" Orson asked, wondering if the ladies had compared notes on their questionable pasts. It would be nice for one struggling to have a friend, even if only by mail.

He noticed relief flood Ava's face when the door to the house opened, cutting short her time to respond to his question. Light from behind the woman revealed Gracie Yagger's silhouette. "Ava, come in now. Shep and Skylar are packing up to go, and they're looking for Simon."

Ava turned to Orson. "I must go in now, but I'll see you tomorrow at six. Good night, Mr. Shilling."

He watched her hurry up the walkway and saw the stern warning on her cousin's face as she stared him down. Maybe he had made an enemy by lingering outside the doorway this late in the evening.

Orson turned and headed back towards town.