Chapter Five #2
“As a first wife, I’d be in a better position to guarantee that my husband had no need for a second,” she said.
“My brother, however, refuses to look outside of Djitania for suitable partners for his sisters and daughters, and while he might believe he’s done his best for me, sadly, the Djitanian market is very small. ”
“The Djitanian market is very small,” Jayce echoed. “That’s the problem.”
He was so very thickheaded.
“It’s the same problem you have,” she said, losing patience. “A small market.”
His eyebrows bent upward. “Small? This country is huge.”
She couldn’t believe she had to explain it to him.
The man was impossible. “We didn’t stop for traffic lights on the drive to your ranch.
We didn’t make many turns, either. That suggests wide open spaces, but with small and scattered populations.
Considering Montana is the third least densely populated state in the country, and you appear to live in the least populated part of the state, I can see why male competition for a marriageable woman would be high, despite her many flaws. ”
“It wasn’t a competition,” he said, getting snippy about it.
Because of course it was. He refused to admit it, but who could blame him? He’d been up against Beau Jones.
“Not a fair one,” she said.
His eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting that Beau is a better man than me because he’s a famous singer?”
She didn’t care for his tone.
She wished she wore her own boots, which added several inches to her height, and made her more imposing. “No. Because he smiles.”
“I smile.” Jayce flashed his white teeth.
That smile would give the precocious Linda bad dreams. Why did she bother? The cowboy had no interest in finding happiness for himself.
And she had no intention of being an unhappy second wife for the rest of her life. She had more important things to worry about than a lovestruck cowboy, no matter how pretty he was, because his problems weren’t hers. The shower, the wedding, and meeting Beau Jones…
Tomorrow night, she’d be gone.
*
The bridal shower was not at all what Malika had expected.
She’d thought there would be presents to open, and tea and coffee and sandwiches, while the women sat around and exchanged genteel gossip. There were presents, and the tea and coffee and food, but the exchange of gossip, which she’d looked forward to, didn’t happen.
Instead, card tables had been arranged around the parlor of the bride’s house, which was also the town’s medical clinic. The women were divided into three teams of four players, with two pairs on each team.
Malika laid her final card on the table.
“Highest trump takes the trick?” she asked, just to be sure.
She had never played cards before, and euchre was marvelous fun, but she played to win.
Mavis Jenkins, the bride’s grandmother, was her partner.
Together, they’d won every hand at their table against Pearl and a woman named Tilly Wynn.
Malika didn’t honestly believe that her senior partner was cheating, but she couldn’t say with certainty that she wasn’t, either.
What mattered was the large mound of candy that served as the grand prize.
The mound had decreased considerably in size over the course of two hours thanks to Tilly, the town’s curly-headed, blonde schoolteacher, who had a metabolism to be envied, judging by her petite size.
Malika had been silently studying the bride while she played cards at another table. Dr. Annabelle Forsythe was indeed prettier than her. She was also prettier than Malika’s sister Aisha, which was quite a feat, but Malika, secure in her own worth and her sister’s, was untroubled by the discovery.
There was nothing about the stunning brunette to make anyone think she had the potential for murder, however.
Neither did she appear the type to lounge on her front steps in her underwear.
Despite her great beauty, she seemed more inclined to melt into the background than to take center stage, even tonight, when she was guest of honor.
According to snippets of overheard conversation, Belle was deeply involved in a research project based on locally sourced, homeopathic and traditional herbs.
Absent-minded professor was the impression she gave.
It was unlikely that Beau Jones was marrying her to complement him in public.
This woman, while beautiful and no doubt a brilliant physician, would have made a man such as Jayce, who wasn’t as easily pleased as Pearl’s husband Grady, an unfortunate wife. Malika shuddered to think what their home life would have been like.
Her squabble with Jayce had been occupying too much of her thoughts.
She’d begun to feel a certain level of responsibility for her part in it.
Marriage was a sore spot for her, too—she hadn’t realized how much—so it had been unkind of her to compare him unfavorably to Beau Jones, who was one in several billion.
Mavis scooped up the spent cards. Malika was in awe of the older woman, who other than an obvious intelligence, shared nothing in common at all with her beautiful granddaughter.
Mavis wore a man’s buckskin shirt and pants, both heavily fringed, rather than the long skirts and blouses worn by the other women.
Her long-barreled, tooled leather boots matched the gun belt that hung from a hook near the door.
The guns tucked in the holsters looked authentic. Malika didn’t ask.
The bride’s mother was not in attendance.
No one seemed to find that unusual. The mystery surrounding her deepened.
The groom’s mother and sisters played at the bride’s table, to Malika’s disappointment.
She had yet to meet Beau Jones and would have loved to ask them questions about him.
The ladies at the third and final table were in a heated debate as to whether they should crash the bachelor party.
Malika perked up. She’d enjoyed playing cards, but crashing a bachelor party sounded so much more exciting. What debauchery might the men be engaged in when the women were absent?
“What brings you to Montana Territory, Malika?” Mavis asked.
The residents of Burning Scrub took role playing seriously. Montana officially became a state on November 8th, 1889, meaning it hadn’t been a territory in almost a hundred and fifty years.