“Go on.”
“You’re asking this because...?”
“Because Lily Salt is dear to me. So are her children. I don’t want anyone to make trouble for them, and it seems to me you’re already stirring the pot.”
“Have you put these questions to anyone before me?”
“No. My husband ran off those ersatz suitors before I had the opportunity.”
“I see. Doesn’t it ease your mind that he hasn’t run me off?”
“Not entirely, no.”
“And what of Lily’s judgment? Do you not have regard for her opinion? She hasn’t run me off.”
“I am getting the impression that you stick like a fly in molasses.”
“I enjoy her company, Dr. Madison. I’d like to see more of her. If that’s sticking like a fly in molasses, then that’s what it is. I am not interested in romantic entanglements. The correct answer to your unseemly question about a mistress is that I recently ended that arrangement. I would be more dismayed than you if she were to show up in Frost Falls, but I will tell you that it is not outside the realm of possibilities.”
The gold flecks in Ridley’s brown eyes glittered as she considered not only what he said, but also what he didn’t say. “Lily’s company is a safeguard, isn’t it? You chose her quite deliberately, I imagine, because you learned very quickly that she’s a widow with four children who has even less interest in romantic entanglements than you. I saw Amanda Springer bending your ear in church your first Sunday here, and I’m familiar with the bent that conversation takes. I don’t think it matters to you how Lily’s companionship is perceived by others as long as it keeps the keenly interested at bay and allows you to go about your work.”
“I am not so Machiavellian as that, Doctor, though I am perhaps that selfish.” He saw her eyebrows climb her forehead. “You look surprised. Did you think I would deny it? There’s proof you don’t really know me.” Roen stood, nodded to Ridley and Ben in turn, and politely took his leave.
Ben looked at his wife, one eyebrow raised. “So much for sticking like a fly in molasses. You ran him off.”
“No, I didn’t. He didn’t walk away angry. He simply said his piece and walked away. I don’t think he was bothered a whit by anything I said, though I can’t say the same for you.”
Ben rubbed behind his ear. “You were rather more candid than I expected.”
“It was all for Lily.”
“I think he’s a good man, Ridley. We should take him at his word.”
“I want to, but how can any of us know? She’s still vulnerable, Ben. Sudden movements make her flinch. I’ve seen it.”
“Perhaps we should tell him why we’re so protective.”
Ridley shook her head. “No. If he’s a man who raises his hand against a woman, then he already knows about Lily. Men like that seem to instinctively know who can be terrorized.”
Chapter Eight
Ham skidded to a halt just inside the parlor. Hannah and Clay were right behind him and stopped as quickly when they saw their mother lying on the sofa with a damp compress across her forehead. Lizzie had Lily’s stocking feet in her lap and she was running her fingertips back and forth across the tops of them. Sometimes Lily would curl her toes.
“Mama doesn’t feel well,” Lizzie said.
“It’s all right, Lizzie,” said Lily. “I’m better now.” She lifted the compress, raised her head a few inches, and smiled at her returning children. The fact that the smile was wan and not warm did nothing to reassure them.
Hannah rushed to her mother’s side and replaced the compress as Lily’s head fell back. “Stay right there. Shall I send Clay for Doc Madison?”
“No. No doctor. It’s nothing. An upset stomach. I took some bicarbonate of soda.”
Hannah wasn’t sure what an upset stomach had to do with the compress on her mother’s head, but she didn’t ask. Instead she looked to Lizzie for whatever explanation a five-year-old could offer.
“I think it was the fizzy drink,” Lizzie said importantly. “We almost didn’t make it home before Ma loosed that fizzy and then all of her lunch in the kitchen sink. I had a cherry fizzy but I kept it down. I can’t say if Mr. Shepard did because he went on to Sheriff Ben’s and we stopped at Mrs. Fish’s. He had the root beer, too, you see.”
They didn’t see, but the three of them made a concerted effort to figure it out. They finally pieced together a story that made sense to them, and Clay and Hannah, with their betterunderstanding of the root of their mother’s distress, exchanged meaningful glances over the tops of Ham and Lizzie’s heads.
Hannah removed the compress from Lily’s forehead and gave it to Ham to dampen with fresh, cooler water. “Lizzie, go help Ham before he makes a mess.”
