Lucas had made arrangements for them all to take tea together at his hotel. “We need to get acquainted,” he’d said calmly to Wallis and Donnigan, and the two men had nodded in agreement. Donnigan had been glad to let Lucas take charge.
Now Lucas cleared his throat, nodded his head to Will, one of his hired hands, and offered his arm to Erma, who accepted it with a slight flushing of her round, dimpling cheeks.
“You must be weary. All of you,” said Lucas, letting his glance take in the three women. “It’s a long, tiring trip. We will take tea at the hotel.”
Donnigan noticed that he didn’t say “my hotel,” though he could have. Lucas already owned half the little town.
Wallis, who still hadn’t put his hat back on his head, self-consciously stuck an elbow out in the direction of Risa. She appeared not to notice.
Donnigan turned to Kathleen. She looked so tiny. So frail. So very young. His immediate instincts were to protect her. He reached to place his hand under her elbow to guide her across the roughness of the town’s main street. She shouldn’t be in the West, he found himself thinking. It’s too harsh. Too rugged. She’ll—she’ll—
But she interrupted his thoughts. “Sure now, and I’m glad to be back on my own two feet.” Then Kathleen bit her lip, remembering that men do not like chattering women.
He couldn’t help but grin. Her accent was so thick that he had to concentrate to catch the words. She sure did talk cute.
He did have presence of mind enough to offer, “How long have you been traveling?”
It was Kathleen’s turn to strain to untangle the strange-sounding words. My, he had an odd accent. She had never heard one speak in that manner before. He sure wasn’t Irish.
She shook her head. She still felt nervous—almost to the point of being giddy, but she controlled her voice the best she could and replied softly, “I’m not sure.” The “r” seemed to roll on her tongue. “It seems forever. The ship—then the train—then this here fancy cart.” She nodded her head back in the direction of the stage, and Donnigan would have laughed except he saw the seriousness in her little face.
They reached the hotel and followed Lucas, who led the way with Erma. Donnigan could see the eyes of the three women carefully scanning the interior. It was really quite a nice hotel for such a small town. But then, Lucas did everything in splendid fashion.
The little side room was especially ornate. Donnigan found himself wondering if Lucas had carefully redone it for just this occasion. He heard Erma exclaim “Oh, my!” as her eyes surveyed the room and a smile deepened the dimples.
Risa slyly took in the room in one quick glance, and Donnigan wondered if he hadn’t seen her eyes light up briefly.
But it was Kathleen who captured his attention. He heard her quick intake of breath and saw her dark eyes widen as they quickly scanned the room. Pleasure and wonder seemed to eminate from her very being. Some word escaped her lips, though he wasn’t able to catch it because of her heavy accent.
She likes pretty things, he observed, and it pleased him. Then he thought of his own plain cabin. Certainly there were no plush draperies, brocaded settees, ornate wallpapers, or thick carpets there. Stirrings of concern tightened his throat again.
But Lucas was inviting them to the linened table and nodding toward the side door to a waiter who stood ready to give the signal to the kitchen staff.
Donnigan was surprised by the whole affair. He had thought he knew Lucas. Now he realized that he really did not. It became clear that the man had class far more befitting an eastern city than their little town. He was refined, gentlemanly, almost suave. He sure must have been studying his books or practicing somewhere, Donnigan observed silently. He sure didn’t learn all this around here.
The truth was, unknown to any of the town folk, Lucas had spent considerable time in careful research and preparation for the event. And he had practiced, night after night, in his own suite of rooms until he felt he would be totally comfortable in his new role.
Wallis, Donnigan’s closest neighbor and friend, suddenly stood out as crude, cocky, and terribly unsophisticated. His lack of refinement had never bothered Donnigan before, but now as he watched him stumbling his way clumsily through a simple, rather feminine ritual like afternoon tea, Donnigan couldn’t help but wonder what Wallis’s Risa was thinking.
But to Donnigan’s further surprise, the three ladies at the table seemed just a bit nervous and unsure as well.
Perhaps they are just tired out, he thought to himself.
“I’m sure our American customs are a bit primitive compared to your European ways,” Lucas observed with a smile, “but for today will you grant us the privilege of serving you? In the future, you may serve the tea.”
That eased some of the tension around the table. Lucas took over the duties of both host and hostess, and the women seemed to relax.
Lucas tried to draw out his guests, addressing each of the women by turn. Donnigan noticed that Erma answered rather easily, dimpling with each reply. Kathleen spoke when spoken to, but her answers were brief and to the point and her words heavily accented. Donnigan observed Wallis frown and wondered if the man had understood one word of what Kathleen had said.
But it was Risa who had very little to say. Her brief replies were curt, choppy, and with no feeling. She, too, had an accent. Perhaps German—or Dutch—or Russian. Donnigan really had no idea. But every time the woman made even a small comment, Wallis grinned as though she had just made a standing-ovation public address.
It was a leisurely teatime, and Donnigan was thankful to Lucas for arranging it. It had helped to break the ice. Perhaps they would all feel just a bit more comfortable with one another. But Donnigan also knew—Lucas had made it clear—that once tea was over, the other two men were on their own.
Lucas had frowned when Donnigan informed him earlier that morning that he wanted two rooms in his hotel. Two rooms. One the best that he had.
Donnigan had flushed, then hurried on to explain. “I figure she—she has a right to one night to think it over—make sure she still—”
Lucas had nodded then. But he still seemed to feel that Donnigan was taking unnecessary precautions.
“I’ve arranged with the parson for a seven o’clock wedding,” Lucas replied. “Then we’ll take dinner in my rooms.”
Yes, Donnigan thought, I’m sure you have everything carefully and neatly arranged.
Now as Donnigan glanced around the table, a strange idea occurred to him. What if Lucas had been hitched with Risa? The mental picture almost made Donnigan chuckle. He shifted his big booted feet under the table and tried with effort to wipe the grin from his face before anyone noticed it. But it sure would have been funny—Lucas trying to teach the straight-backed Risa to jump through his hoops.
Donnigan’s glance slid back to Erma. Her round cheeks dimpled and her eyes sparkled with trust as she listened intently to whatever Lucas was saying to her. Yes. It appeared that Lucas would have no trouble with Erma.
But what was he doing thinking of the other two men? What would he do with Kathleen? Again Donnigan shifted uneasily. It was a perplexing consideration.
Kathleen was awed by the splendor of the town’s one hotel. She had never been in a hotel before except for the one in Boston—and it had been rather old and stodgy and stale-smelling. And the girls had all been crowded on cots in a few airless rooms with single dingy windows that looked out on a dirty back alley. Kathleen had not been impressed—but she figured that’s how hotels were.