What? Had she just been insulted? The warm feelings she had a moment ago vanished. Eleanor blinked. “Um ... I am twenty-four years.”
“Goodness, and still unmarried. Well, that’s all right. Your work with your father has kept you traveling and busy, no doubt. Are you at least engaged to be married?”
Eleanor stopped. Did the woman mean to be imposing and rude?
She checked herself. Really, this was no different from many matrons in New York society. Maybe too many months on the road had thinned her usually thick skin to society’s pressures. “No, ma’am. I am not.”
“Did you leave some special fellow pining for you at your last location?”
Eleanor worked hard to hold back the sarcastic comment that wished to fly. “No. There is no one in my life other than Father.”
The older woman’s eyes seemed to light up. “How wonderful!” At her exclamation, the little dog began to wiggle and yip. Mrs. Ashbury laughed and released the dog to the floor. “See”—she straightened—“even Sir Theophilus is excited.”
Eleanor eyed the white fluff ball. What could it possibly be excited about besides treats? “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mrs. Ashbury.”
“It’s Marvella.” The look on her face suggested she might be up to something. “Since you’ll be with us all summer, I’m certain to find you a husband.”
Her stomach began to churn. Why was everyone concerned about her marital status all of a sudden? She glanced into the parlor to see if Mr. Grinnell or Father had overheard the nosy woman’s comment. But no. They were engaged in their own conversation. Eleanor looked back at Mrs. Ashbury and shook her head. “I assure you that won’t be necessary. I have no interest whatsoever in finding a husband.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”There was such sadness in her hostess’s face. “You’ve been out in the sun too much, and it has affected your mind. Never fear, my dear. I’ll handle everything. Youjust wait and see.” She patted Eleanor’s arm, a confident smile turning up her lips. “Your time in Kalispell will be a great success. I just know it.” Marvella glided into the large parlor, leaving a confused Eleanor in her wake.
Affected her mind? If anyone were to ask Eleanor right then, she’d say it was the outgoing Mrs. Ashbury whose mind was affected. Because hers most certainly wasnot.
4
TUESDAY, MAY10, 1904—KALISPELL, MONTANA
Grant didn’t mind most things. But waitin’ on his brother when he wasn’t sure what was goin’ on in that fool’s head was one something he did mind. A lot. He had been sitting on a bench outside the railroad depot for a half hour now with no sign of his little brother.
The rest of the afternoon had gone just as bad as he’d imagined. Men were out of sorts. Arguing about anything and everything. Several went home early and said they weren’t coming back.
Then there was Alvin. Soon as he heard the whole story, he clamped his mouth shut and stormed off.
Never a good sign.
The whole situation was messed up. They didn’t have the whole story, which bothered a lot of the men who had families to feed. It’d be different if all the men were single and could just pick up and move to Whitefish. If there were homes and businesses already built and established.
But no. The railroad had been shady, saying they werejust looking to establish a new route into Canada. Grant scoffed. He shoulda known as soon as the townsite in Whitefish was surveyed and dedicated in June of last year. Rail yards were already constructed. Why, he wouldn’t be surprised if the rail line wasn’t already half built to Eureka. They’d probably kept that a secret too.
He slapped his hat against his knee and looked around. Kalispell had become home.
He liked it here. Liked his job.
But that was already gone.
Hadta face facts ... he couldn’t do a single lickin’ thing to change it.
“Hey, Grant.” Gus called to him from the door. “Alvin left a while ago. Said to tell you that he wouldn’t be back for a couple days.”
“What?” He jumped to his feet. Alvin never went anywhere.
Gus shrugged. “Sorry, that’s all he said.” He closed the door to the depot.
What was his brother doin’ takin’ off like that? Grant flexed his fingers, fighting the black mood building in his chest.
Nothin’ he could do ’til Alvin got home. But when that happened ...
They’d be havin’ words.
