Phoebe pressed her lips together, nodded. It was not an unexpected response, but she had needed to hear it from him. “I asked her, you know, what she did to make you dislike her so much.”
“Did you? I didn’t know. What did she say?” He stopped her from answering by raising his fork hand and waggling the utensil. “No. Let me guess. I figure she threw it back at you, probably with some self-righteous irritation to deflect your question. She’d wonder how you could ask her. She would be hurt.”
Phoebe’s eyes dropped to her hands.
“Am I close?” asked Remington.
Phoebe thought she might know what it felt like to be kicked by a two-hundred-pound calf. “Dead center,” she whispered.
“Then I’m sorry. For your sake, I wish I’d been wrong.”
She nodded because she believed him. “So what did she do?”
“Do you really want to know? Here? Now? That doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”
Behind them someone hollered as if he were the one losing his balls to a Bowie knife. They both turned to make certain no one was dead on the ground, but it was only one of thegreenhorns being dragged by a calf he was too stubborn to release.
“That’s one way to do it,” said Remington, unconcerned. He renewed his interest in his food.
“Maybe now isn’t the right time,” said Phoebe. “But I still want to know. And I still want to—” She stopped because she saw a familiar figure approaching. “Isn’t that Blue Armstrong?”
Remington looked up. “Sure is.”
“Is he here to help?”
“Unlikely. Maybe he’s come for the food.” He passed his plate to Phoebe and hopped off the buckboard. “I’ll be right back after I see what he wants. Hey, Blue!” He waved once and hurried away to head him off.
Blue veered sideways, following Remington’s diagonal path until they met. “I saw her,” Blue said, pulling up his horse. “I wasn’t going to say anything in front of her.”
“Didn’t think you would, Blue, but business first. All right? Then you can socialize and eat your fill. I hope you’ll do that.”
“Sure. I had to arm-wrestle Jackson for the right to come out here. He likes Ellie’s apple pie.”
“Whereas you like Ellie.”
Blue scratched behind a red-tipped ear. “Now, ‘whereas.’ That’d be a smart-ass lawyer word, wouldn’t it?”
“Damn right. Tell me what you know.”
“Miss Carolina finally has a day to herself. That’d be this Sunday. Two days from now. We are going to take the train to Liberty Junction and talk to Junior about what I’m pretty sure is going to turn out to be his mama’s ring. Like I told you when you came ’round the office, I don’t know if his mama is still visiting or if she’s gone back to Saint Louis, but Liberty Junction is a mite easier place to start.”
“I don’t disagree. So why are telling me now?”
“Besides coming out for the food and the company, the sheriff and I figured you might want to tag along. Miss Apple, too, if she’s of a like mind and you think there’s no harm in it. If Mrs. Tyler’s still there, we thought she’d like to reacquaint herself.”
“And she’s also familiar with the ring,” Remington said flatly. “I’m sure you and the sheriff thought of that, too.”
“Crossed our minds. Doesn’t hurt to get a second confirmation, and I can’t exactly bring Miss Carolina out here to show off the ring. She trusts me, but I can see that she runs to suspicion when she thinks too hard or too long.”
“I’ll go, but I want to think about Phoebe.”
“Fine. Now about that tagging along... it’s better if you get there ahead of us. Miss Carolina is in Collier, so that’s where we will be boarding the train. If you’re already in Liberty Junction, there’s no chance she’ll spy you getting on at Frost Falls and wonder why you’re going to a gaming establishment in the Junction. You know folks from here don’t do that.”
“I understand, and I appreciate your caution and the invitation. I’ll be there.” He gestured toward the table. “Looks like Ellie’s free at the moment.”
“I see her.” He dismounted, gave Remington the reins, and headed for Ellie Madison, the feast laid out on the table, and a slice of cinnamon apple pie the size of his hand.
Remington tethered Blue’s horse with the other animals and then returned to Phoebe. She gave him back his plate, but she looked as if she wanted to stab him with the fork. She laid it down carefully, deliberately, in his open palm, which merely felt as if she’d stabbed him. “Business,” he said, sitting hipshot on the wagon bed.
