Something about that last thought didn’t spark as much hope as it normally did, and Charlotte frowned for a moment. But it was too nice a day, and Mr. Becker’s smile was far too friendly, and this town was much too interesting for the questionable feeling to remain for long.
Chapter Seven
RUBY MCNAB MUST HAVEdisappeared from town like a ghost. Or so that was all Mark could figure had happened. No one else he asked seemed to have heard of the woman or her new husband.
As he walked toward Miss Montgomery’s boarding house—where she’d promised she’d stay put for once—he turned what they knew over in his mind. Only the general store owner and the boarding house proprietor had known of Mrs. McNab. Either she and her new husband were deliberately hiding—which seemed unlikely—or they’d left town. Otherwisesomeoneshould have known where they currently resided.
Just a few doors from the boarding house sat a small restaurant. The place looked busy, a sure sign the food was good.
Mark still thought of the restaurant when he arrived at the boarding house, where Miss Montgomery sat impatiently perched on the edge of a chair in the parlor.
He shook his head immediately, and Miss Montgomery’s hopeful smile dropped. But she quickly recovered and stood, walking toward him with her dark hair arranged in a cascade of curls that framed her face.
“Are you hungry?” he asked before he lost his nerve. “I saw a restaurant just down the road that looked good.”
Miss Montgomery raised her eyebrows. She was either horrified or surprised at his question, and Mark began to wonder if he should have kept the idea to himself. He could only imagine what Chester Montgomery would think of this situation. Just as he was about to retract the question, Miss Montgomery rewarded him with a smile.
“That would be lovely,” she said as she clasped her hands together. “I was just beginning to think of lunch. Perhaps you can tell me more about what you found, or didn’t find, that is.”
And then, before he knew it, Mark found himself arm in arm with Miss Montgomery as they strolled down the road toward the restaurant, trying not to think of how she smelled of lavender and how pretty her smile was when she shot one his way.
They were seated at a cozy little table by the window. After they each ordered the roast chicken dish, Mark told Miss Montgomery about who he had spoken with and what he hadn’t been able to find.
“I fear they may have left town,” he finished.
Miss Montgomery glanced out the window, a pensive expression fixed to her lips. When she turned back to Mark, she said, “Well, I appreciate you asking around for me. I wish I could’ve found Ruby, but I suppose it doesn’t particularly matter one way or the other.”
“She wasn’t expecting you?’ It was a question Mark had wondered since Miss Montgomery had first mentioned her friend.
“Oh no,” she said. “Ruby was one of our kitchen maids. We had something of a friendship back at home.”
The pieces of the puzzle fell together. A kitchen maid. That made so much more sense than the well-to-do lady Mark had assumed Mrs. McNab to be.
“I know it’s an odd sort of friendship,” Miss Montgomery continued. “However when one finds oneself bored to tears on a Saturday afternoon, entertainment can always be found in the kitchen. Ruby tried to teach me all sorts of things—baking bread, mixing up cakes, even cooking chicken like this.” She pointed at their plates, which had just arrived.
“Tried?” Mark paused, his fork hovering over his plate.
