Page 16 of A Secret Heart
Jeb grinned from behind Mrs. Wilson. All Ed’s dreams of breaking into furniture building full-time were staring him in the face. He pushed back his mental to-do list for the homestead.
If he sealed the deal with this display case, he’d have all the orders he needed to convince Drew this was viable.
“It’s a deal.” Ed held out his hand to shake on it. “Let me take a few measurements.”
Once he finished hashing out the specifics, Ed tucked the notes he’d made into his pocket. He said his goodbyes, then headed back down the boardwalk. Only then did he remember Rebekah.
She sat atop the wagon with her hands folded in her lap. He was sure to hear about how long he’d taken.
He hurried his steps. As he neared the wagon, he shot a glance up at her. Rebekah was smiling to herself with a notebook on her lap, her focus trained on something in the distance, as if thinking. Not a word about how late he was. He shrugged it off as he moved to untie the horses from the hitching post.
Reins in hand, he hoisted himself onto the wagon seat. “You ready?”
“Mmmm.” Rebekah now held a notebook in her hand, scribbling away without paying him a whit of attention. Hardly the confrontation he’d expected. Was today his lucky day?
The tossing of the wagon along the street jostled him closer to her, sending a tingle along his arm. He shifted to put distance between them as she swiveled the writing away from him. What was she writing that was so confounded secret?
Ed looked back to the street in time to dodge a wagon in front of the doctor’s office. He craned his neck. There’d been a group of cowhands milling around there when he’d pulled into town. As he shifted his focus back to the road, Rebekah twisted to peek back at the same wagon. Then she turned to settle herself, scribbling more notes.
“You seem awful interested in that wagon.” Ed hitched his thumb back toward the doctor’s as they rode past the edge of town.
“Mm-hmm.” She kept writing.
“What happened?” Much as he hated to admit it, her indifference gnawed at him.
“A bunch of cowboys brought a man to the doctor.” Her blue eyes flashed at him now. “Marshal O’Grady was there.”
“Figure you got yourself a real story, eh?” It all made sense now.
“Did you recognize any of the men we just drove by, the ones in front of the doctor’s office?”
Was it him, or had she just lit up like a kerosene lamp as she’d asked the question? “I recognized a wagon with horses from the Billings ranch. Saw some ranch hands milling around. If a man got hurt, I’m not sure that’s newsworthy.” Ed rubbed his shirt sleeve across his forehead. The June sun beat mercilessly today.
“What would you know about whether it’s newsworthy?” After a huff, she went back to scribbling. Just like in school.
Even way back then, she’d sat at her desk writing, oblivious to everything going on around her. One day she’d been scribbling away, curls falling across her desk as she’d tried to hide her paper. His mouth grew a bit dry from the remembrance. If only that schoolroom story hadn’t started all the trouble between them.
After a long while, Rebekah looked up from her scribbling. The wagon seat rattled as she shifted to face him.
“If you must know, the rancher was attacked along the road, according to the crowd. By a bandit. Maybe even the same one who burned down the cabin or robbed the stagecoach. And thatisa story people want to read.” She jabbed the pencil in his direction before returning to her notepad.
“Sullivan letting you report on it?” So that’s what all the smug grins were about. As if Rebekah needed to get involved with outing criminals. “Why isn’t he covering it?”
Rebekah shifted herself to sit up a little taller, tilting her chin. “Because it’s my job.”
“I thought your job was handling matrimonial ads and such.” He could imagine her poking her nose where it didn’t belong. Rebekah wasn’t the kind of person who gave up. Their schoolroom grudge was testament enough to that.
“What do you know about my job?” Her tone grew indignant.
“What kind of injuries?” he pressed.
“I couldn’t see,” she said, still sounding miffed. “They carried him into the doc’s office.”
“If this bandit caused injuries enough that the rancher needed a doctor, you’d better let Mr. Sullivan handle it.” Maybe he could get her to see how dangerous this might be.
“You, Ed McGraw, are not my keeper.” Her blue eyes flashed at him before she tilted that chin of hers again.
“I may not be your keeper, but I made a promise to your uncle.” Even now, the words tasted like ash in his mouth.
