Remington lifted the glass from her hand and finishedit. He passed off the empty glass to someone walking by. “You’re flushed,” he said, looking her over. “And quite beautiful with it. Come on, we can sneak away for a few minutes while you catch your breath.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her, and gave her a nudge toward the side of the house. Once she was moving in that direction, he took a beer from Arnie, who was holding one in each hand.
“Hey!” Arnie called after Remington, watching his beer being carried away.
Remington looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “Thanks.” He rounded the corner of the house, the relatively quiet corner, and found Phoebe leaning against the roughly timbered wall. “Here,” he said, giving her the beer. “Go easy. It’s early yet, the sun’s out, there will be more dancing, and you don’t want to stagger at your own wedding. That’s for other people to do.”
She thanked him and raised the glass. This time she was not greedy with the drink. She let him wipe a foam mustache from her upper lip. “I’ve seen more than a few no-chins. You?”
“Yes.”
“I danced with some. One of them had a poorly set nose. I could barely stop staring.”
“I know. I saw. And I didn’t like it.”
“Jealous? Or concerned for my toes?”
“Jealous,” he said. “And concerned for your safety.”
“Remington. What did you think could happen?”
“Remember the catastrophes you imagined when you were alone in Old Man McCauley’s cabin? It was like that.” When she laughed instead of offering sympathy, he confiscated the beer and enjoyed two large swallows before he passed it back. “Did any of them introduce themselves?”
“Tim Brownlee. He’s Les’s youngest brother. Another was a cousin. Ned Washington. Oh, and the flat bridge was a Putty, or a Petty. I can’t be sure. He did not mention any connection to Les. He mumbled, and he was nearly as breathless as I was. Hoyle. Doyle. Royal. He did enjoy the dancing, though. You know, I had the oddest sense that I’dseen him before. It can’t have been on the train, so I don’t know where it could have been. I wasn’t prepared for that. I’ll have to think about it.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that his last name is Petty, and neither do you. I’m going to keep an eye on him.” He set his hands on either side of her shoulders and bent his head to steal a kiss.
Phoebe touched her mouth with her fingertips. “More beer foam?”
“Nope. I was just hankerin’ for a taste of your fine lips.”
She laughed. “Fool.”
He shrugged, helped himself to a second tasting, and then stepped back. “Did you see Ellie?”
“I did, but not who she brought. I want to be certain to speak to her and thank her for coming. I won’t let on that I know the reason she’s not working here any longer.”
“She probably thinks we both know.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going to confirm it and embarrass her.” She took another sip of beer and then placed the glass against her forehead. The beer was warm but glass felt cool against her skin. “Did you ever ask Thaddeus about Ellie being bought out by her husband’s partners?”
“Odd you’d ask me now. I just mentioned it to him the other day when we were banished because Mrs. Fish was here for your fitting. He said it was too long ago for him to remember the details, but that it sounded right.”
Phoebe frowned. “Thaddeus said he didn’t remember the details?”
“I know. That sounded wrong to me, too.”
“Hmm.”
“I let it go. It didn’t seem as if anything good would come of challenging him.” He saw Phoebe was about to respond, but before she could, Mrs. Packer rounded the corner and their marginal sense of privacy was gone. The housekeeper set her hands on wide hips and took a militant stance. It was very different than what Ellie would have done, but it was equally effective. “We’re coming, Mrs. Packer.”
“See that you do. Your guests are milling about the tables looking to help themselves. The children can barely contain themselves, and I don’t like shooin’ them away. Poor dears. It isn’t right. Come and get yourselves a plate so folks can have a bite before their bellies are full of liquor.” She started to turn, stopped, “Oh, and there’s a young fella looking for you. He was talking up Thaddeus and Fiona the last I saw him, and I think he’s already been into the blueberry pie.”
Remington and Phoebe exchanged surprised, then knowing, glances before they returned their attention to Mrs. Packer. They said his name at the same time. “Handy McKenzie.”
Chapter Forty
“Damn if I didn’t dance with her.” Doyle practically cackled with glee. He poked his brother in the ribs with his elbow. “Did you see? Didn’t think I did too badly. At least I wasn’t stepping all over her toes. Caught her gown once, but she just swept it aside and kept on goin’. You gotta like a gal who can do that.”
Willet dug Doyle’s elbow out of his side and pushed his brother away. “That hurts. You gotta stop jabbing at me. I get what you’re sayin’ without the physicality.”
