Chapter 1 #5
“I don’t suppose it has,” said Morgan.
Mrs. Sterling watched Jane fill out the registry. “New York City? Traveling by yourself? That’s a far piece to go it alone.”
Jane replaced the pen. “I do not think I was ever alone,” she said. “And no one met as strangers. People were uncommonly friendly.”
“You’ll find the same in Bitter Springs, though some folks say it takes getting used to. How long will you be staying? Mr. Longstreet only has his room for the one night.”
“I’m not certain. Will it be a problem if I require the room for several nights?”
“Not for me.”
Jane observed Mrs. Sterling raise a questioning eyebrow in Morgan’s direction.
There was only one way Jane could interpret that look.
Mrs. Sterling was inquiring if a prolonged stay at the Pennyroyal was a problem for Morgan Longstreet.
Jane was uncomfortably reminded of Cousin Franny and the reach of her controlling hand.
She meant to leave that behind in New York.
It was not her intention to replace a mistress for a master.
Ida Mae gestured to Walt. “Take Miss Middlebourne’s things to room four. You go on, Miss Middlebourne. We don’t carry meals to the rooms, but if you’d like something before we open the dining room for dinner, we can surely set you up in the kitchen. It’s no bother.”
Jane realized her appetite was a mercurial thing. “Thank you, but I would simply like to rest.” She unraveled her scarf, thanked Morgan for his kindness, and preceded Walt up the stairs.
* * *
Morgan watched Jane go. Her steps were unhurried. Her gloved hand rested lightly on the rail, gliding along the length as she rose. Her poise never wavered. She might have been going to her coronation. She might have been going to her death. She did not look back, did not see his eyes drink her in.
“How long have you known me, Morgan Longstreet?”
Turning slightly, Morgan leaned against the desk and rested an elbow on Mrs. Sterling’s registry. “Long enough to know there’s something on your mind and you’re about to relieve yourself of it.”
Ida Mae made a sound at the back of her throat that might have been disapproval or amusement.
“That’s right, which is why you should also know that bit of playacting didn’t fool me one bit.
Now some people say Walt’s a little slow-witted, but I can tell you I was watching him, and he wasn’t fooled either.
” She pulled her registry free, causing Morgan’s elbow to glance sharply off the desk.
She was unapologetic when he made a face and nursed the pain.
“Go on. I dare you to tell me it’s different than I think. ”
“Mrs. Sterling, I have no idea what you think.” But he did, and the moment he heard Finn’s voice coming from the landing behind him, his suspicions were confirmed.
“Mr. Longstreet!” Finn called. “I just saw Miss Middlebourne in the hall. Fancy that.”
“Fancy that,” Morgan said, mostly under his breath.
“See?” Mrs. Sterling waved a finger at him. “You wanted to play at making me think you just met her at the station.”
“I did just meet her at the station.”
Mrs. Sterling continued to chide him, stopping short of clucking her tongue. “Pretending like you don’t know her.”
“I don’t know her.”
“Makin’ it seem as if it were serendipitous.”
Morgan said nothing. She had him there. His mouth curled to one side as Finn closed in.
“What’d I do?” asked Finn, sidling closer.
Mrs. Sterling reached across the desk and flicked Finn’s stubborn cowlick. “Nothing but speak the truth, I expect.”
Finn regarded Mrs. Sterling with suspicion. “That’s something I’m thinkin’ you should tell my gran. She harbors considerable doubts about my veracity. I heard her say so.”
Morgan reached into his pocket for a coin. He held it out to Finn. “See if there’s a room in town to be had for the night.”
“You can have mine.”
“That’s generous.”
“It will hardly cost you.”
“And enterprising,” Morgan said dryly. He dropped the coin in Finn’s palm. “I’ll take my chances that there’s bed somewhere else.” Morgan tilted his head toward the door. “Out you go.”
Grinning, Finn clutched the coin and hurried off.
“You spoil him,” Mrs. Sterling said.
Morgan started to deny it, intercepted Mrs. Sterling’s faintly accusing stare, and merely shrugged instead.
Ida Mae Sterling shook her head. “You think you’re such a stranger here that I don’t see what’s going on right beneath my nose? Could be that Finn reminds you of someone. I’m not saying who, because it’s none of my never mind, but it comes to me every time I see you with him.”
Morgan listened without comment.
“I guess I know you better than most folks. I’ve never forgotten that my Benton vouched for you all those years ago.”
Morgan had not forgotten either. He did not say so aloud. He did not have to. Ida Mae knew the truth, his truth, and honored her husband’s memory by keeping it to herself.
“So who is she, Morgan? The way Finn tells it you were waiting for her. Pushed Dr. Wanamaker aside and plucked Miss Middlebourne off the train like she was a Wyoming wildflower.”
“He’s a doctor?”
Mrs. Sterling cocked an eyebrow.
Morgan sighed. “It might have happened that way.”
“There was something said about a photograph.”
“Finn’s gran is not the only one who harbors doubts about his veracity.”
“Are you saying that child is lying?” she asked. When Morgan looked away, she said, “You know what I figure? I figure you’ll tell me what you’re up to when you know it better yourself. That sound about right?”
“About right.”
Mrs. Sterling reached across the desktop, laid her hand over Morgan’s, and gave it an affectionate pat.
“It’s true I don’t have any rooms to let, but there’s the apartment on the third floor that the Coltranes use when they visit.
I don’t like to let it go, but for you, I could be persuaded, specially if it’s just for the one night. ”
Morgan shook his head. “Thank you, but it’s better if I bunk somewhere else.”
“Better?” She removed her hand and cocked her head to one side as she studied him. “Yes,” she said at last. “That’s probably true. God knows you’re a better man than you have any right to be.”