Page 22 of May I Kiss the Bride
“I’m proud of you, Viola,” Rey murmured, ignoring his aching heart. “Making such a decision about nursing school must be hard. Especially when your parents might not support you.”
Viola’s hand seemed to tighten in his. “Knowing that not everyone believes as my parents do has made me see things differently and given me hope. Thank you, Rey. Between you and my aunt, I feel like I can follow my dream.”
Rey had to ignore his own feelings about Viola’s potential schooling three states away. “You’ll be an excellent nurse, and maybe one day you’ll want a family,” he said, not knowing exactly where all of this advice was coming from. “In a small town like Mayfair, you could do both. Doc could use someone to help out once in a while. Especially during times when he has to go on calls at one of the farms.”
Viola tilted her head and studied him. He certainly hoped she couldn’t read minds.
“Next thing you’ll tell me is that there’s a nursing school in Cheyenne.”
“I think there is,” Rey said with a wink. “But don’t let me talk you into anything.”
He was teasing, sort of, but what Viola did next would have leveled him if he hadn’t been standing on firm ground.
“The dance is over, Sheriff.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for asking me despite it being Elsie’s idea.”
Then Viola released him and walked away before he could tell her that even if Elsie hadn’t been the instigator, he would have asked her to dance. But Viola was a half dozen feet away by the time his head stopped spinning. Now, why had she gone and kissed him on the cheek? Was that how things were done in the Delany family, or did it mean something more? Something that he didn’t dare let his mind indulge in. Because every single person in the whole town would be talking about this before the hour was up.
Rey didn’t speak directly to Viola the rest of the night. It was quite impossible since everyone seemed to want their dessert at the same time. The pie table remained populated while Viola cheerfully served up slice after slice. Rey guessed she’d been asked a few more times to dance, gauging by the men standing before her, hat in hand. But she never did dance again, and Rey took a bit of pride in that.
“Papa,” Elsie said, appearing at his side while he was talking himself out of approaching the pie table and doing some of that “hovering.” “Can I spend the night at Lucy’s house?”
Rey looked down at his daughter. “How about another night? I’ve missed you too much to let you out of my sight.”
Elsie giggled at this, and miraculously, she leaned against him. “All right, Papa. When you don’t miss me so much, then can I spend the night?”
Rey bent and kissed the top of her head. “I think that can be negotiated.”
“Sheriff, there’s a couple of boys joyriding in one of the wagons outside. Folks are afraid someone will get hurt.”
Rey turned to look at Phil. “Thanks for letting me know.” Thatcher had remained at the jail, so Rey headed outside. It didn’t take long to put the fear of the good Lord into the two teen boys.
When he returned to the barn, Old Jennings was packing up his fiddle, several townsfolk were putting away tables and chairs, and there was some negotiating over who was taking home the leftover pies.
Rey wondered if Viola would accept a ride home in his cart, but she was walking arm in arm with Della toward the entrance. He received a smile and a nod and then she was gone.
“Papa, are we staying here all night?” Elsie said, tugging at his arm, right before she gave a giant yawn.
“Nope. Heading out now.” He grasped her hand. By the time they exited the barn, Viola Delany was nowhere in sight.
HER SUMMER SPENT IN WYOMING turned out to be only three weeks, but Viola wasn’t returning home to become mired in avoiding gossip about her broken engagement. She was returning home to have a frank conversation with her parents. Aunt Beth had hated to see her leave so soon, but she’d also encouraged it and promised that she’d let Della and Sidney take on more responsibilities at the bakery.
Which was why Viola was now walking up the steps to her family’s large home and ringing the bell like she was a visitor. She didn’t want to burst into the house and shock everyone.
She glanced back at the carriage she’d hired and left her luggage on. The driver had agreed to wait on the side of the road until she let him know if she’d be staying here or going someplace else.
The housekeeper, Macy, answered the door, and her eyes rounded to the size of saucers. “Miss Delany … you’re back?”
“Yes.” She gave a wide smile, but her stomach had cinched into knots. “Are Mother and Father home?”
“Of course, it’s early yet. Come in. Let me help you with your luggage.”
Viola had divvied up several of her nicer dresses and hats to Sidney and Della, who were both delighted with the gifts. So Viola only had one trunk and one carpetbag. “The driver can keep an eye on it until I speak to my parents.”
She followed Macy into the house and looked about as if seeing it for the first time. Her three weeks’ absence had made everything seem so different and foreign. The noise and traffic of downtown San Francisco. The boats upon the water, dotting the bay. The steep hills that her hired carriage had traversed. And now the polished floors and pillars of her home.
The click of heels came along the corridor leading to the library, and her mother walked into view. She stopped abruptly with a gasp. Her blonde hair was done up in an elegant twist, and diamonds graced her earlobes and neck. Her makeup was carefully and impeccably applied, and she wore a cream blouse and pale pink skirt.
“Viola … what in heaven’s name? Has something happened? Why didn’t you tell us you were returning so soon?”
