But no dressing-down came. Instead, Josie tilted her head and smiled even brighter. “You do understand that’s why my brother invited you here? Our horrid pastor has been pestering him to get me married, and George has been hinting for months that I ought to do just that. I don’t believe he truly thinks it necessary. After all, he’s never indicated he’d prefer me to pursue more ladylike pursuits. But my father did, and, well . . . I suppose he feels he owes it to Papa.”
Arlen scratched his chin, trying to imagine the woman before him in a fussy dress and curls, fretting about the sun creating a single freckle on her nose. The image didn’t sit well with him. He’d met hundreds of those sorts of girls over the years, and not a one of them kept his attention as well as Mrs. Josie Gresham had in the span of only a couple of days.
“I believe I like you better just the way you are,” he said.
She made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Don’t you have a fence to fix?”
And with that, she mounted her horse and left Arlen behind with a stack of rails and his own pitiful company.
Chapter Six
Josie clutched thesack of mail to her chest as she stepped over the small mountains of horse dung that littered the road between the stage depot and the post and telegraph office. She often fetched the mail that had come in on the latest stage for the Landrys when she came into town.
There was something about being the first person in Last Chance to hold the mail that gave Josie a shiver of excitement. Who knew what these envelopes held? It could be good news, it could be terrible news. For a long time it was hundreds of letters from prospective grooms to the ladies of Last Chance. A few still trickled in here and there. And at some point this summer, Arlen’s letter to George had been one of them. The thought that she might have carried Arlen’s letter herself was particularly infuriating.
She pressed that thought from her mind as she opened the door to the post and telegraph office. Faith and her new husband Beau were busy behind the long counter that ran the width of the room to the left.
“Josie!” Faith called when she spotted her friend at the door. “It’s been too long since you’ve been in town.”
Beau emerged from behind the counter and took the heavy sack from Josie. He deposited it on the counter in front of his wife. “It’s good to see you, Miss Josie,” he said. His accented voice reminded Josie of melted butter mixed with a heavy dose of sugar. “Ladies, forgive me, but I must be off to pay a visit to the mercantile.” He dropped a kiss upon Faith’s head before bidding good afternoon to Josie.
Faith watched him go, a silly smile upon her face. As much as she teased Faith about how she’d gone from levelheaded to dreamy, Josie wouldn’t trade this happier version of Faith for the ghost of a woman she’d been before Beau’s arrival in town. Faith had taken the loss of her first husband in the blizzard so hard, and for a long time, Josie had wondered if she would ever truly recover.
Once Beau had exited the door, Faith turned her attention to Josie. “What’s kept you away? You had me worried.”
Josie heaved a sigh as she came around to the other side of the counter and began dumping the mail from the sack.
“That doesn’t sound like anything good,” her friend said. “Has Pastor Collins been pestering you again?”
Josie glanced at the letters spread out before her. How many of these were arranging marriages with unwilling women? How many other brothers and fathers were interfering in the lives of ladies who would much prefer to be left alone?
“Josie?” Faith’s gentle hand rested on Josie’s shoulder. Josie looked up to see Faith‘s concerned expression. And it struck her, not for the first time, how very different she and Faith were. While Josie was like a wild horse running about the plains, Faith was the very ideal of a woman. Josie could hardly keep her hair in a single braid down her back, while Faith’s hair was always neatly gathered in a perfect chignon. And while Faith could have had her choice of men wishing to make her their wife after her first husband‘s death, not a soul had approached George about Josie.
The one thing that they’d had in common over the past year was their desire to avoid marriage—until Beau had arrived and stolen Faith’s heart. But Faith’s sister-like friendship with Josie hadn’t changed, and for that Josie was eternally grateful. Without Faith, George would have been all that she had, and he certainly wasn’t living up to the brother she needed lately.
“George wishes me to remarry,” Josie finally said.
