Part 9 (1/2)

Despite her mother's selfish actions and thoughtless behaviors, Gwen loved her and tried not to judge her too harshly. Still, her refusal to visit Cleo was something she found hard to forgive.

Oh, I nearly forgot. Do you remember the Wellington boy, the young man I once encouraged you to consider as a suitor? He became involved with a woman of poor family and there was something about a child, although I never learned the particulars. Certainly he disgraced his family's good name. He took his own life last month. A shocking turn of events. It was in all the newspapers and has been the talk of every social event I've attended. Oh, I nearly forgot. Do you remember the Wellington boy, the young man I once encouraged you to consider as a suitor? He became involved with a woman of poor family and there was something about a child, although I never learned the particulars. Certainly he disgraced his family's good name. He took his own life last month. A shocking turn of events. It was in all the newspapers and has been the talk of every social event I've attended.Thank goodness you had the good sense to see through him years ago. He wasn't at all what he appeared to be.

Her mother's letter went on for another two pages of gossip about neighbors and friends from her social circle. Nothing of interest to Gwen who cared little about the things her mother found so important.

Well, I must close. This is my day to join your grandfather for lunch at his bedside. His preferred topic of conversation is matters of business, which I find boring. I do hope he will be able to get about on his own soon so I can get on with my life. Well, I must close. This is my day to join your grandfather for lunch at his bedside. His preferred topic of conversation is matters of business, which I find boring. I do hope he will be able to get about on his own soon so I can get on with my life. Say h.e.l.lo to Cleopatra and your father for me, and tell your sister I will write to her soon. Sending my love. Say h.e.l.lo to Cleopatra and your father for me, and tell your sister I will write to her soon. Sending my love.

Mother Gwen sighed as she refolded the letter. Sometimes she felt more the parent than the child. She wanted to chastise her mother, to scold her, to tell her to grow up, to encourage her to think of someone other than herself every now and again.

”I'm sorry for feeling that way, Lord,” she whispered as she slipped the stationery into its envelope. ”But Mother can be so exasperating at times.”

Morgan ran his gaze down the list of supplies one last time before handing it to Bert Humphrey. ”May I tell f.a.gan the supplies will be ready for pickup on Friday?”

”Sure can. I've got everything here in my storeroom.” The proprietor of the mercantile set the list on the counter. ”I'd like you to know, Mr. McKinley, I'm grateful for your business. It's been a boon for me and the missus this past year, I can tell you.”

Morgan acknowledged the man's thanks with a nod, then asked, ”How is Mrs. Humphrey feeling?”

”She's somewhat better. Though it's hard to make her keep to her bed, the way the doctor wants. She's used to working here in the store with me and is feeling mighty restless.” He shrugged. ”I was telling Miss Arlington awhile ago that it's too bad that spa of yours isn't open already. Maybe it would help her. But then, I probably couldn't afford to take advantage of it no how.”

”That's where you're wrong, Mr. Humphrey. New Hope will be affordable for all. I give you my word.”

”Do tell.”

Morgan nodded again, even as he felt a stab of frustration. If the county commissioners, led by Harrison Carter, kept interfering, kept preventing him from acquiring the necessary use permits and land purchases, it would be difficult for anyone, rich or poor, to benefit from New Hope. Overcoming the roadblocks was the reason he'd decided to run for mayor. Running for mayor meant opposition to Gwen Arlington. And Gwen - with the lovely hair that curled into tiny fish hooks at her nape and the soft-scented cologne that wafted about his nostrils whenever he drew close to her - was the reason he hadn't slept much for the last two nights.

Two more customers entered the store, bringing a convenient end to his discussion with Bert Humphrey. He bid the man a good day and left the mercantile.

Outside on the sidewalk, he checked his watch. He had appointments with several businessmen this afternoon. Glad handing. Speech making. Kissing babies. He couldn't say any of it was a favorite pasttime.

Maybe that was because his candidacy had begun with admittedly selfish motives. He had something to gain if he became mayor - overturning unfair and restrictive laws that made life difficult for honest men of business. Yes, he would make a good and open-minded mayor, should he be elected. Still...

He frowned.

It was different for Gwen Arlington. She had nothing to gain. She wanted to serve her neighbors and the tradesmen and even the children of Bethlehem Springs. She cared about them. Morgan believed she too would make a good and open-minded mayor. Perhaps a better mayor than he would make, even though she lacked practical business experience.

Was it right for him to continue, knowing all that?

On the other hand, would the people of Bethlehem Springs elect a woman? And if they wouldn't elect a woman and Morgan withdrew, that would leave Hiram Tattersall to serve as mayor. His gut told him Tattersall would be a puppet for Harrison Carter, just as the other county commissioners and the current mayor were, and that Morgan could not allow.

No, he couldn't withdraw from the race. He had to stay the course - and pray that the people of this town would choose the right person come Election Day.

TWELVE.

Standing in the hall near the front door, Gwen checked her appearance in the mirror. A gauzy pink scarf covered the crown of her hat and was tied snugly beneath her chin. She hoped it would keep her face and hair clean while she and Morgan motored to the construction site.

After slipping her arms into a duster coat, she took her purse from the entry table and opened it to double-check that her mother's letter was there. Cleo would want to read it, especially if she hadn't received one of her own.

The put-putter-put put-putter-put of an approaching motorcar reached her ears, causing a tiny s.h.i.+ver of antic.i.p.ation to race up her spine. Morgan was here. It was time for them to leave. of an approaching motorcar reached her ears, causing a tiny s.h.i.+ver of antic.i.p.ation to race up her spine. Morgan was here. It was time for them to leave.

But why this sudden excitement? This was nothing more than a fact-finding excursion. It was her duty as a candidate for mayor to be well informed.

She stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. No reason to wait for him to get out of the car. She had no need to be escorted to the vehicle.

”Good morning , Miss Arlington,” Morgan called as he brought the automobile to a halt. ”Lovely day for a drive, isn't it?” Reaching over to open the pa.s.senger door, he smiled.

What was it about his smile that made her feel so unsteady? It didn't used to have that effect on her. What had changed between last week and this? Was his offer of friends.h.i.+p enough to make the difference?

”Watch your step.”

She drew a quick breath. ”Thank you, Mr. McKinley.” After sitting down, she closed the pa.s.senger door and folded her hands in her lap, eyes forward.

”We should be up to the site in a little more than half an hour.”

Gwen saw Edna Updike staring out her parlor window. Although she couldn't tell for certain, given the distance between them, she imagined the woman wore a frown of disapproval. After all, Gwen was about to drive off in an automobile with a man without the benefit and protection of a chaperone. Scandalous!

Morgan steered away from the curb, driving down Wallula to Main, then taking Main out of town. Once they were on the road heading north, he spoke above the noise of the engine. ”Do you drive, Miss Arlington?”

”Drive? Do you mean an automobile?” Without waiting for his answer, she shook her head. ”No.”

”That surprises me. I somehow thought you would.”

How was she to take that comment? Was it a compliment or an insult? She couldn't be sure.

There hadn't been a drop of rain in several weeks, and it wasn't long before their coats were covered with a fine layer of dust. Morgan expertly steered the Model T around ruts carved earlier in the spring when the ground had been softer.

They rode in silence for a while. Then Morgan said, ”I've been wondering something, Miss Arlington.”

She looked at him.

”How much do you charge for piano lessons?”

What an odd question for him to ask.

He glanced her way, obviously expecting a reply.

”Twenty cents for a half-hour lesson in my home. Another nickel if I go to the student's home.”

”Very reasonable,” he said, his eyes back on the road. ”And do you give lessons to adults as well as children?”

There was that strange sensation in her stomach again. ”Sometimes.”

”Would you consider taking me on as a pupil?”

”Why do you want to learn to play, Mr. McKinley?”

He glanced at her a second time. ”Does there have to be a reason?”