“Surely he knows your opinion on the matter,” Faith replied as she began to sort through the mail spread across the counter top.
“Of course he does,” Josie said. “Yet that didn’t stop him from sending for some man from the Wyoming Territory.”
Faith paused, a letter in her hand, as she looked to Josie. “Well, you put a stop to that, haven’t you?”
Josie sighed again, her breath making a lightweight envelope on the top of the stack flutter. She wished she could be like the wind, and blow Mr. Arlen Thomas clear back to Wyoming Territory.
And yet for some reason, that thought made her feel somewhat sad.
“It’s too late. He’s already arrived.” At Faith’s horrified expression, Josie added, “But never fear. I’ve told Arlen exactly how I feel.”
“Arlen?” Faith took a tiny step back and surveyed Josie with a curious expression.
“Mr. Thomas,” Josie said as her face went warm. She looked back down at the envelopes and began placing them in piles in no particular order that made sense.
When Faith said nothing in return, Josie glanced up at her, hoping her face wasn’t as pink as it felt. “Well, he kept calling me Mrs. Gresham, and I told him I did not particularly like that, and so we agreed to dispense with the formalities.”
“I see,” Faith said in a voice that conveyed far more than her actual words.
“There is no other reason behind it, I can promise you that.” Josie returned to sorting the mail at a faster pace than before.
“I believe you,” Faith said with a lilt to her lips. She picked up a particularly thick envelope and added it to the stack meant for Mr. Purcell, who was an attorney. “First, I want to know how much George cowered when you cornered him.”
Josie laughed. “To be honest, I haven’t let loose on my brother as I should have yet. I think he’s been avoiding me.”
Faith placed a hand over her heart, as if she were appalled by Josie’s answer. “Josephine Cummings Gresham, whatever has happened to you?”
“Oh, don’t fear. The longer I store it up, the worse it will be.”
“Good.” Faith dumped more envelopes from the sack onto the counter. “He deserves it. The nerve of that man, sending off for a husband without your knowledge or consent. Especially when I know at least ten ladies in town who’d swoon over the thought of a proposal from him.”
“I suppose, although I agree with your sentiment.” Why anyone would want to marry her brother was a thought beyond Josie’s comprehension, but Faith had a point. And it had been a topic they’d discussed before—why Pastor Collins was so adamant the widows of Last Chance remarry or return East, when he left the handful of surviving, eligible men like George in peace to do as they chose. It was hardly fair.
Yet then again, there wasn’t much about being a woman that felt fair to Josie most of the time. She’d seen the way Pastor Collins had frowned in disapproval at her choice of clothing. If the man had worked a ranch, he’d understand how much more practical a pair of trousers and a shirt were than a skirt and bodice. Not to mention that he’d never understand that she worked just as hard as George. She’d more than earned her half of their ranch. And she couldn’t fathom returning to a town in Missouri she barely remembered from childhood. Her home was here with George, married or not.
“Now I want to know all about this Mr. Thomas. I take it he isn’t entirely hideous?” Faith kept her eyes on the envelopes but Josie could feel the smile on her lips.
“He is not,” she said, trying not to sigh with the words. It was quite unfortunate that he wasn’t, she thought. It would make it far easier to drive him off if he was. But instead, she’d somehow agreed to let him stay and help. “Quite the opposite, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?” Faith repeated. “I don’t see how a man being blessed with fine looks is unfortunate.”
“Well, if he had a face full of warts or was missing several teeth, it would be far easier to ignore him to the point he might choose to leave.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Looks aren’t everything. Even a warty man can be quite charming,” Faith replied. “He’s charming, I take it?”
“I suppose. He tries to be.” The number of times he’d rendered her nearly speechless with that intense look in his eyes or the way he’d simply take a step too close and turn her into a silent, useless fool came to mind. If Josie were being honest, she’d admit that she’d never felt that helpless under a man’s gaze in her life. Did he know that? She surely hoped not, because it was far too embarrassing to contemplate. “He has this way of smiling at me as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. It’s unnerving.”
“Hmm,” was all Faith said in response.
“We do need the help, though,” Josie said as she scooped up a tall stack of envelopes meant for the sheriff.
“Does that mean you’ll let him stay on?”
“At least until we get the cattle rounded up and off to Grand Platte.”
“And then what?” Faith asked, her hand resting on the empty sack. “You’ll send him off back to . . . Where did he come from?”
Josie shrugged in response to both questions. “Wyoming Territory, I believe.”
