She stiffened as her gaze rose to his. “You’re frightening me, Devlin.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.” He paused again, and his voice gentled. “Just be careful.”
“I will.”
He nodded in her direction then held his arms wide toward Avery. “Come give Daddy a kiss.”
Avery climbed up on the chair then jumped into his open arms.
“You be a good girl for Miss Tresia.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be safe.”
“Always am.” He gave her another kiss, this time on her forehead, then lowered her back to her chair. He turned toward Tresia still at the kitchen table, then strolled in her direction, a swagger in his step. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, then dropped a quick kiss on her utterly kissable mouth.
He left the house with a touch of uncertainty, not happy about leaving Tresia and Avery alone. He stopped on the front porch as had become his habit and noticed there seemed to be more people walking up and down the streets. More carriages, too. He recognized some but not all. His lips pressed together in annoyance. It had begun and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d killed Ned Delany. He concentrated on keeping his temper under control, then headed over to his office, ready though not quite willing to take on whatever the day brought.
Two minutes after entering the Marshal’s Office through the back door, he wished he’d stayed in bed …preferably with Tresia.A chorus of raised voices met his ears. Citizens of the town peppered Merrill and Rafael with questions. It was going to be a long day.
“Are you ready?” Tresia slipped her drawstring purse over her wrist then added the shopping basket to her arm as well.
Avery nodded as she tied the laces of one of her shoes in a perfect bow, an accomplishment she’d just learned. She was pretty proud of herself and Tresia praised her. “Good job, sweetheart.”
Avery beamed, picked up Cecily then clasped Tresia’s hand as they left the house and walked over to the town hall.
As soon as they stepped inside and she saw all the people gathered around Mayor Tisdale, demanding answers about what happened to Josie, the Serranos, and Ned Delany, and she realized Devlin had been correct when he said people would want to know everything. The mayor caught her eye then motioned for her to join him. She shook her head, held Avery’s hand a little tighter, and rushed up to the second floor, where the rooms for the lending library would be.
She pulled a small notebook, the one containing the drawings from her last visit to the rooms, from her drawstring purse, and started sketching. “I think we can fit four rows of shelves in here,” she murmured as she drew.
“I think so as well.”
The voice was not one she’d expected to hear and she jumped, as skittish as a newborn foal, then turned quickly to see the mayor now standing in the doorway, one hand on the door jamb, the other on his chest, like he suffered from indigestion after eating a heavy meal. “Oh, Mayor Tisdale! You startled me.”
“I’m sorry for that, Mrs. Morgan. I didn’t mean to.” He shrugged as if scaring her didn’t matter and remained in the doorway. “I’ve been getting questions all morning,” he said without even a greeting. “What do you know?”
“About what?”
“Come now, Mrs. Morgan.” He gestured to Avery. “You take care of the marshal’s daughter. Surely, he must have talked to you about what happened yesterday. Taken you into his confidence, as it were.”
Tresia tucked her notebook away. “You’ll have to ask the marshal any questions you might have.” She held out her hand to Avery. “Come on, sweetheart. We need to go.”
Avery slipped her hand in hers as they moved toward the doorway, but the mayor didn’t move. His big body blocked the way. “You must know something.”
“I don’t, Mayor. Devlin and I do not discuss his job.” She moved a bit closer to him, standing up to him. He’d never been a bully, had always been friendly toward her, but then again, he’d never had such mayhem in his town before.
He smirked, a light coming into his eyes, as if he suspected she did more than just care for the marshal’s daughter. “Devlin, is it?”
Her face heated. “Yes. Devlin. That is his name. Now, if you’ll excuse us, please.”
He stared at her for the longest time, then finally moved his big belly out of her way. She and Avery practically ran out of the town hall.
It was the same at Polly’s bakery and Goldwater’s, where everyone she met, the shop owners as well as their customers, asked her questions, too, wanting to know something, everything, forcing her to change her plans. Considering what she’d already been subjected to by people she knew and liked,she wouldn’t visit Alfonso and Damita but simply go home after picking up the roast.
But there was no escaping the rumors and gossip. It spread through the town like wildfire, unrestrained, blazing uncontrolled, as stories about what happened at Josie’s and Crooked River were repeated, usually incorrectly. Everyone knew of Josie’s passing. Some rejoiced, thinking she’d repaid her perceived sins with her life and that her house would close while others were saddened by that thought. There was plenty to be said about Devlin and Merrill killing Ned Delany, too, most of that untrue as well.
Simply walking through the town square on the way to the butcher shop, people stopped her, even those she didn’t know well, wanting to know what happened. They assumed, like the mayor, that Marshal Goodrich took her into his confidence, considering she was taking care of his daughter, as if one thing had anything to do with the other. Of course, there were innuendos as well, putting the marshal and her together, as if they knew or suspected she hadn’t left the marshal’s bed all night, which was most likely just her own conscience talking. With the hours she kept, no one could know she didn’t sleep in her boarding house bed.
She ignored everything as best she could, repeating over and over again that they should ask the marshal for details of what happened. No one seemed happy with that answer and continued to press her for details she refused to divulge.
