Page 14 of May I Kiss the Bride
Viola’s thoughts spun with all that Aunt Beth had told her. She rose to her feet and moved to the door leading to the stairs. “Thank you for telling me your story. I didn’t know, and I’m sorry that you went through such heartache.”
“Oh.” Aunt Beth waved a hand. “It was all for the best. I see that now. Your father was on the fast track of elite society, and your mother happily went along with him. I’m content in my small-town bakery. It might not have been an original dream, but it suits me just fine. The quiet life, the nonjudgmental life, a life of feeding people delicious food—what could be better?”
Viola smiled as she paused at the door. “Wyoming isn’t so bad?”
Aunt Beth grinned. “Not so bad at all.”
Viola’s thoughts felt weighed down as she descended the steps. Aunt Beth’s secret was out, it seemed. All these years—she’d been living her second choice in life. Alone, but not alone at all. Every person in the town admired Aunt Beth, greeted her, visited with her—she was surrounded by a different kind of family.
Viola had never had that in San Francisco. No, her days were filled with social visits or joining her mother on committees for one thing or another. Her close friends she’d grown up with were all married, and some had children of their own. Her only independent time was when she volunteered for the Red Cross.
She walked into the kitchen and settled into making the first round of pies. The routine had become a comfort in a way. She could let her mind wander yet keep her hands busy. The morning passed quickly as Viola got pies into the oven, then rolled out more crust. Sidney chatted merrily with the men who had lined up to make their purchases.
Even without Sheriff Rey directly in the shop, the men were much better behaved. They didn’t add on extra dollars and make demands. They paid for their orders, tipped their hats at Viola and the other girls, then shuffled out.
Viola hadn’t realized how much she was watching the door when Deputy Thatcher walked in—instead of Sheriff Rey.
“How y’all doing?” he asked, nodding to Sidney. “Any trouble today?”
Sidney flashed the older man a smile. “Everyone’s been well-mannered.”
“We have,” Phil said, a stout man with intelligent eyes. “In fact, I was just about to ask if these pretty ladies will be at the barn dance tomorrow night.”
Sidney blushed quite fiercely, which Viola found intriguing. Did she have an interest in the cowboy named Phil?
“I’ll be there,” Sidney declared. “How about you, sir?”
Phil’s gaze cut to Viola, then returned to Sidney’s, where it should be. “I’ll certainly be there. Maybe you can save a dance for me? I’d be right pleased.”
Sidney’s coloring deepened. “I’ll consider it.”
Viola wanted to laugh. Sidney was way past considering.
“What about you, Miss Delany? Will you be at the barn dance?” another man called out.
Viola looked over to see a man named Billy, who was a regular at the bakery. Someone had mentioned he was a cattleman, which probably explained why his clothing looked like he’d just climbed off a horse. He was usually quiet, as far as his words went, but his gaze was always on her as if he were trying to read her very thoughts.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Viola said, which was true, but even if she went to the barn dance, it wouldn’t be to dance with any of these men. She’d already told Aunt Beth that she’d help at the pie table. Stay behind the scenes. The way things were looking, Aunt Beth might not be going to the barn dance.
Billy shuffled forward in line, not responding, but not looking away either.
The stares and comments were still a bit of a novelty. They didn’t bother her too much, although Billy was a bit brazen with his staring. There were other single women in town—Viola hadmet them, along with Sidney and Della. They might be a few years younger than Viola, but they were definitely interested in courting and getting married.
“She’ll go,” Sidney said brightly. “It can’t be a barn dance without our newest friend there.”
Viola wanted to know why not when Deputy Thatcher slapped a hand on his thigh. “Oh, geez Louise, I forgot about that. Sheriff better be back by then. I can’t throw out all the drunks on my own.”
Back?Where was Sheriff Rey? Out of town? Should he be traveling after being so recently recovered from his surgery? Curiosity burned inside of her, but she didn’t dare ask any questions with so many listening ears about. And were drunkards a main part of the barn dance? Maybe she’d stay clear after all.
“Oh, that’s right.” Sidney rang up Phil’s purchase while they both blushed. “Sheriff went to fetch his daughter back home.”
“IT’S TOO SMALL,” ELSIE DECLARED, setting her small hands on her tiny hips, reminding Rey of his wife for the umpteenth time.
Seeing his daughter after being gone a couple of weeks had been surreal, since when he picked her up at her grandmother’s home in San Francisco, he could have sworn Elsie had grown another foot and an even bigger attitude. Her opinions were certainly more decided than he remembered them ever being.
“The dress is the biggest size in a party dress that you have.” Rey eyed both their reflections in the brass-framed mirror.
Elsie’s strawberry-blonde hair, so much like her mother’s, had been braided into two rows, courtesy of Barb. Her green-and-white-checkered dress with a ruffled collar might be a little tight around the torso, and the sleeves a little short, but as long as the dress buttoned and the girl could breathe all right …
