“Yes. Yes, I do. From the reception.” She held Jenny’s frankly inquisitive gaze. “I understand it was your pie and cookies that I had the pleasure of receiving yesterday.”
“It sounds as if you did.” She had a disapproving look for Cobb. “You might have told me you intended to send them out to Morning Star, especially that you were sending them out with those rascals. I would have tied them up real pretty.”
“The baked goods?” Cobb asked dryly. “Or the boys?”
Jenny snorted while her husband and Tru laughed. Even Jane found herself smiling right up until the moment she looked around and saw that the church had all but emptied.
“Excuse me,” she said. It was difficult to keep the sense of urgency she felt out of her voice, but she believed she was successful. “Was Dr. Kent here this morning? I wanted most particularly to meet him.”
“Not this morning,” said Jenny. “He was at the Johnsons’ house until the wee hours. I saw him walking home as I was getting up.” She launched into an explanation of how Buster Johnson had a congestion in his lungs that was worrying his mother something terrible. Believing in the miracle of Dr. Wanamaker’s liniment and rub, Abigail used two bottles of it on Buster’s chest before she sent for Dr. Kent. Jenny shook her head in the sorrowful manner of one who is contemplating the foolishness of another.
Jane was grateful for Jenny’s diversion. “I’d like to speak to Dr. Kent about Jem Davis’s injuries before I meet Morgan. Would someone point out his home to me?” They did better than that, of course. They escorted her to the doctor’s door and made certain he received her before they left.
Morgan stood as soon as Jane entered the dining room. He waited while Walt helped her with her coat, scarf, and gloves, and held out a chair for her when she approached. She returned his welcoming smile, but he could tell it was forced. He remembered what she’d said last night and tried not to be overtaken by anxiety.
“I didn’t eat,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”
Jane nodded. “Mrs. Bridger said you would sample one of everything in Mrs. Sterling’s kitchen.”
“Not quite.”
“How is she?”
“Feisty.” He showed her the knuckles of his right hand. “Quick as ever with a spoon.” When Jane’s smile was a mere shadow of the one he expected, Morgan abandoned any hope of gently drawing her out. “What’s wrong?”
“Not now,” she said quietly. “It can wait until we’re home. It should wait.”
Morgan thought he should be grateful that she had not lied to him, but her answer was not enough. “People began arriving here from church a while ago. Ted Rush said he saw you talking to the marshal after services were over.”
“Yes. I was also speaking to his wife and Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. I took the opportunity to thank Marshal Bridger for his gift and compliment Mrs. Phillips’s baking.”
“All this time?”
“No. Afterward, I went to visit Dr. Kent. I am surprised no one told you that.” Her tone sharpened infinitesimally. “Now, can you let it rest?”
Morgan thought it was just as well that Renee Harrison came rushing out of the kitchen then. She made straight for their table, thanked him for getting Jem out of jail after he was set upon by the no-account strangers, and poured coffee for him and tea for Jane. She did not linger but returned to the kitchen to get their food.
“She did not ask how he was doing,” Jane said when Renee was gone.
“I suspect she already knows. I told Mrs. Sterling. Word like that gets around.”
“Buster Johnson has chest congestion. And this will surprise you: Dr. Wanamaker’s Miracle Liniment and Medicinal Rub was inefficacious.”
For Morgan it was his first moment of real enjoyment since leaving Jane at the church. “I’ll be darned,” he said, and the fact that he tempered his language made her smile genuine at last.
Neither of them did justice to their meal, but Morgan made a larger dent in his chicken and dumplings than Jane, who, by some sleight of hand, was able to give the illusion of eating while leaving her food almost untouched. When he suggested that they leave, her agreement was immediate.
They spoke very little on the drive back to Morning Star. Morgan did not trust himself not to begin an interrogation, so it was easier not to initiate conversation. It seemed to him that Jane felt similarly. Restraint had made her tense. She touched her temple frequently with her fingertips and massaged the area. Sometimes she closed her eyes. Morgan wondered if she had gone to see Dr. Kent about her headaches. It had not occurred to him until now that she might have been hiding them from him. He wondered what stupid thing he had said that might make her think he wouldn’t want to know.
When they arrived at the ranch, Morgan told Jessop to take care of the buckboard and followed Jane into the house. She went right past Jem at the kitchen table without speaking. So did Morgan, but he added a gesture that communicated to Jem that he should leave and not return until he was invited.
Jane was already in the washroom preparing one of her powders when Morgan got there. He hovered in the doorway just long enough to see that she took all of it, and then he stepped aside and waited for her to return to the bedroom.
He thought she might lie down, but she went to the rocking chair instead. She substituted her coat, gloves, and scarf for the quilt at the foot of the bed. The last thing she did before she sat was to remove her hat and place it on top of her scarf. Bundled in the quilt, Jane drew her legs under her.
“I want to show you something,” she said. “Will you bring my trunk here? It is in the loft, remember?”
Morgan did. Without asking for an explanation, Morgan brought it down and carried it into the bedroom. He started to bring it to her, but she stopped him.
