Wishing on Buttercups (32 page)

Relief weakened Beth’s muscles, and she shrugged. “I suppose I’m still a little anxious.”

Wilma planted her hands on her hips. “If one of his friends shows up, it won’t matter. The scoundrel is in jail, and that’s where he’ll stay, if I have anything to say about it.”

“I can’t believe I trusted him.” She shook her head.

Wilma drew Beth into the circle of her arms. “I am so sorry you had to endure that. But you can’t let it cloud your perception. Why, Jeffery Tucker is a fine man, as is Caleb.”

Beth broke free of her embrace. “What are you up to, Auntie? What does Jeffery have to do with this?”

“Nothing at all,” her aunt replied swiftly. “I don’t care to have you think every man is cut from the same cloth as Wentworth. Jeffery is simply an example of an honest man.”

Katherine stepped into the room followed by a well-built man a full head taller than Beth. “I’d like to introduce Mr. Steven Harding. Mr. Harding, this is Beth Roberts and her aunt, Mrs. Roberts.”

Mr. Harding inclined his head. “I’m pleased to meet you both.” He studied Beth. “Something about you …” He appeared thoughtful. “Is Beth a family name? Short for Elizabeth, and after your aunt, no doubt?” He smiled warmly at Aunt Wilma.

Beth tilted her head. “Yes. I mean, no.” The words almost stuck in her throat. She’d nearly told him her pen name was Elizabeth. “My aunt’s name is Wilma, and mine is Beth. I’m not certain it’s a family name.” She bit her lip, aware she’d said too much.

He smiled. “No matter. Are you from this area originally?”

Aunt Wilma stepped forward and placed her hand on Beth’s arm. “We’re from Kansas. What brings you to Baker City?”

“Business. My bank is putting in a new branch office in town, and I’ll be transferred from La Grande next month. I’m hoping to find a place for my mother and myself.”

Aunt Wilma nodded. “I saw the new brick building; it’s quite fancy for a bank. Will you be managing it, Mr. Harding?”

“I’m afraid not, but I am one of the officers. I will be handling the loans to miners, ranchers, and such.”

“I see.”

Masculine voices mingled with a childish one neared the room, and Beth turned, her heart skipping a beat. Jeffery and his father entered, accompanied by Mandy. She clung to the older man’s hand, chattering so fast Beth could barely make out a word. Mr. Tucker gazed down at her, apparently intent on catching every syllable, his face drawn in concentration.

Jeffery approached Mr. Harding and extended his hand, shooting a glance toward Beth. “Hello, I’m Jeffery Tucker, and this is my father, Mark Tucker. Will you be lodging here?”

Steven Harding shook his head, his fine blue eyes clouding. “Pleased to meet you both. I regret Mrs. Jacobs doesn’t have room and doesn’t believe that will change before we move.”

Mark Tucker straightened and looked from his son to the stranger, a slight smile curving his thin lips. “Oh, but I’m sure there will be, Mr. Harding. Two in fact.”

Beth sucked in a breath. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tucker?”

“I understand it could snow in the mountain passes any time, and I don’t care to be stranded here. Jeffery and I will be returning home soon.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jeffery couldn’t get Beth’s face out of his mind. Apparently, his father’s declaration had shocked her. It had been hours since those words were uttered, and her image was as clear as though it happened moments ago. Dismay, chased by—what? Resentment? Alarm? He couldn’t be sure. She’d walked out of the room right after the announcement. When she returned, she had avoided looking at him the rest of the meal.

He glared into the mirror above his bureau and jerked at his tight collar, hating the thought of not seeing Beth this evening. Somehow he must let her know he hadn’t agreed to go home with his father. He gritted his teeth. The record would get set straight with his parent at dinner tonight, that he could promise. That was the only reason he’d agreed to dine with him at the Arlington Hotel. He didn’t know when he’d have the opportunity to speak with Beth alone, but speak to her he would. Did she care if he went home? Hope pulsed through Jeffery’s veins until he recalled the resentment that had shone in her eyes.

Time to turn his attention elsewhere before he choked. He loosened his grip on his collar, picked up his jacket, and shook it. The man who’d arrived at breakfast … what was his name? Steven Harding. He seemed a pleasant enough sort, and Beth didn’t appear at all interested in pursuing his acquaintance. Dark hair, a firm jaw, and an erect bearing, all things that seemed to attract women, but Beth had barely spoken to Harding throughout the meal. Jeffery grimaced. Of course, she hadn’t deigned to speak to
him
either.

Enough, Tucker.
Jeffery shut the door behind him and headed toward the parlor. Laughter and the buzz of voices drew him forward. It had been so long since he’d heard his father laugh.

Frances Cooper looked up as he entered. “Young man, you have a delightful father. I hope you are aware of how blessed you are.”

Jeffery halted, and his gaze went to Beth, sitting on the far end of the sofa, before swinging to the older woman. “Good evening, Mrs. Cooper. I hope you’re feeling better tonight.” He was not getting drawn into a discussion about the merits of his father’s personality. “Mrs. Roberts, Beth, you both look lovely, as always.”

Beth met his gaze. “Thank you, Jeffery. Your father was telling us he’s taking you to supper.” Her voice sounded breathless, and a tiny smile emerged.

“Would you care to join us?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

His father leveled him with an unpleasant glare, but Jeffery squared his shoulders. “I would love for the two of you to get better acquainted.”

In for a penny, in for a pound
, he thought. And the truth was, he would like his father to see how much he cared for Beth. No longer was it only the need to learn the stories of the townspeople that kept him from returning home. It was this woman he’d come to care for the past few months. Maybe if his father got better acquainted with Beth, he’d understand.

Frances exchanged a knowing look with Wilma.

His father inclined his head, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. “I’d be most pleased to have you accompany us, Miss Roberts.”

Beth looked from one to the other. Finally, her tense stance relaxed. “Thank you. That would be very nice. As long as I’m not interfering.”

Jeffery stepped over beside her. “Not in the least. We haven’t had a chance to talk in days, and I would love your company.” He prayed the warm look he gave her would convey more than his desire for her companionship at this one meal.

Jeffery pulled out Beth’s chair and seated her, hoping his father would recognize his desire to stay in Baker City. Not that he’d leave regardless, but he hated the idea of more hurt occurring within their family. If only Father could come to terms with the idea that not everyone wanted to sail through life on someone else’s money or follow in their footsteps.

Beth leaned toward his father with a smile and replied to something he’d asked. Jeffery’s heart stirred. He wanted to court her, but more than that, he longed to earn her trust. Yet something seemed to prevent her from opening up to him that he didn’t understand. A certain reticence in her behavior and a withdrawal when he got too close. He’d searched his memory for anything he’d said that might have created a rift, but he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

Other than the conversation in the kitchen concerning his relationship with God.

Jeffery leaned back in his chair. Could that be the problem? Beth had shared her confusion over certain aspects of religion, but she’d stated she had a true friendship with God. That wasn’t something he’d attempted to develop and lately he’d wondered if he’d missed out on an important facet of life. From what Beth had said, that was highly likely. He’d have to study on it some more, and in the meantime, he’d take a closer look at his Bible and perhaps strike up a conversation with God.

Beth placed the napkin back in her lap and smiled at Jeffery. “Thank you for inviting me. It was a wonderful meal.” The atmosphere had been comfortable since they arrived at the restaurant, but it was apparent now that Mr. Tucker was chafing to talk to his son alone.

Jeffery glanced at his father, then back at her. “I’m glad you agreed to accompany us.”

Mark Tucker shifted in his chair. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a better host.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, but our time together this evening has been most enjoyable. I’m truly happy you came, Miss Roberts.”

“Thank you. But I wish you’d call me Beth.”

He smiled and nodded. “All right then, I will. You mentioned that you and your aunt are from back East?”

She nodded. “Yes, from Topeka, Kansas.”

“Have you lived there all your life?”

She hesitated. “Most of it, sir.” Her mind scrambled, trying to find a way to open a new topic before this one got out of hand. “How about you? Were you raised in Cincinnati?”

He propped his forearms on the table. “I was. The Tucker family has lived in Ohio for two generations—three counting our children—but my grandfather emigrated from Virginia. Our ancestors arrived in this country about fifty years after the
Mayflower
landed. We have a heritage that Jeffery can be proud of passing along to his children someday.” He straightened and trained his gaze intently on her. “What of your family?”

Beth swung her eyes to Jeffery, uncertain how to reply.

Jeffery pushed back his chair and rose, holding out his hand to Beth. “It’s getting late. Were you ready to return home?”

She gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed the relief rippling through her. “I am a little tired, although I’ve had a delightful time.” Transferring her attention to Mr. Tucker, she attempted to soften the abrupt departure. “I imagine you’d appreciate some time alone with your son before the evening ends.”

He dipped his head and got to his feet. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Beth, but you are correct. I don’t feel I’ve had enough opportunity to talk with Jeffery since I arrived.”

Jeffery took her cape from the back of her chair and settled it around her. Beth briefly closed her eyes, savoring the touch of his hands.

Stepping back, Jeffery turned to his father. “We’ll be glad for the buggy with the chill in the air.” He offered his arm to Beth and guided her outside.

Mark Tucker untied the horse while Jeffery walked Beth to the buggy and extended his hand. “Allow me?”

Beth placed her gloved fingers into his and stepped up. The toe of her slipper caught in the hem of her wide gown, and her other hand grasped at the air as she attempted to find the handle.

Strong hands encircled her waist and steadied her. Jeffery stood close behind her but didn’t loosen his hold. Beth could feel the pound of his heart as he drew her against his chest and waited. “All right now?”

She nodded, trying to quiet her breathing. “I think so.” Moving her head a little, her cheek touched his, and a jolt ran through her. Her hands shook as she reached for the buggy’s handhold again. “I’m glad you were there.”

“So am I.” Slowly he released his grip from her waist. “If you’re sure.” He waited for her to get settled in the backseat, then swung up beside his father.

Beth was thankful for the darkness that shielded her rosy cheeks. If only Jeffery had chosen to occupy the seat beside her. It was only a half-mile to the house, but if the state of her emotions were any indication, the journey would have been quite fulfilling.