Page 72 of Conveniently Wed
He cut that thought off before it could take him somewhere he didn’t want to go.
On his other side, Melody listened to the waiter recite the daily specials.
“I guess I’ll have the meatloaf….”
“Are you sure, Mellie?” her mother interrupted. “I’ve ordered it before and their portion is enormous. More than any one girl needs.”
The older woman looked down the side of her nose at Fran, as if she was appalled by his wife ordering dessert.
Fran smiled at him, either ignoring or unaware of the slight. “After three days of trail fare, I’m hungry for a real meal.” Ignoring it.
“You’ve been on the cattle drivewiththe men?” RuthAnn’s incredulous gasp didn’t seem to affect Fran at all.
He grinned at his wife.
Melody looked at her husband tentatively, but the man was distracted by the wiggling baby now reaching for his mustache.
“All right. I’ll have the chicken,” Melody told the waiter.
Her mother nodded approvingly.
The waiter left and RuthAnn turned on him. Or rather, on Fran.
“How long have you been married to this…cowboy?” she asked, voice falsely saccharine.
“Only a few days,” Fran replied, exuding friendliness.
He tried to catch her eye, give her some kind of warning, but she’d turned toward the older woman and didn’t see. He didn’t know what would be worse. For Fran to admit their plans for the marriage or for word to get out more than it already had about his marriage.
“My Melody here had her cap set for him a couple of years ago.”
“Mama!” Melody gasped, looking to her husband. The man seemed only mildly interested in the conversation, still wrestling the toddler on his lap.
Edgar hoped for the husband’s and the kid’s sake that their food arrived quickly. And that the kid was hungry.
“Until he told her off in front of the whole church. Said he wasn’t interested in marrying anybody at all.”
“Mama,” Melody gasped, her face reddening. “Edgar, I’m sorry.” She looked between him, her mama and her husband. Then to Fran. “It didn’t happen like that at all.”
Fran had her eyes on him. And she seemed to be brimming with mirth, barely holding back laughter.
“As I remember, it was you who had your cap set for me on Melody’s behalf,” Edgar drawled.
The older woman began to sputter.
“Seems like Melody’s done pretty good for herself, though,” he went on with a nod to the husband, who seemed content to watch all the drama. Smart man.
“Thank you, Edgar,” Melody said. “Beau and I live in Boise and we’re very happy. We’re up for a visit with mama and were trying to get home on the train.”
But RuthAnn wasn’t done. She turned all the way to face Fran. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, dear.”
Fran’s tiny smile was a warning tohim. “Oh, I know all about Edgar’s aversion to women.”
“He’s an uncouth, rough”—RuthAnn motioned to his head and he assumed his beard—“well, cowboy.”
Fran looked at him, letting her eyes linger on his face a little longer than was polite.
Color crept into his cheeks at her intimate perusal.
