in, and added, “Even Esther couldn’t manage alone, you know.”
Sophie linked arms with Ida. “In that case,” she said with a smile, “I am all yours. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you, Ida Mueller,” she teased. “At this rate, you’re likely to set the entire town ablaze with your great passion for propriety.”
Irritation set in as Mick gazed at his property. Only three days into his new venture and already his plan was fraught with problems. The land agent—the same one who had assured him by letter that the lot would be his as soon as money changed hands—had suddenly turned up with another offer. The scoundrel was probably just trying to up the ante, but Mick wasn’t playing that game.
Still, he had come a long way, and for what? To lose the piece of property he’d been assured would be his? Could he risk that? What would the investors back in Chicago say?
Maybe he should up his offer, just to be safe.
On the other hand, folks weren’t exactly warming up to him. The local sheriff, a burly fellow with an overgrown mustache, had paid a visit to his hotel room just last night. What was it he had said, again? Ah, yes. Something about making his visit to Texas brief. Not exactly a threat. More of a warning.
And the ever-present stares from the saloon owners—especially Chuck Brewster—who clearly saw him as a threat to their businesses, did little to calm Mick’s troubled mind. How could he keep the peace and still get the job done?
Maybe he could convince the pretty blonde to help people see him as the upstanding businessman he was. She probably knew everyone in town, since she worked at the mercantile. Perhaps he should pay her a visit and see if he could win another one of those lovely smiles. Purely for business reasons, of course.
Chapter Seven
“You’re late, Ida.”
“I know, Dinah. I know.” Ida flashed a sheepish grin as she slipped behind the mercantile counter. She busied herself refilling a jar with black licorice, avoiding her aunt’s accusing glare.
“I’m partly to blame,” Sophie added as she leaned her elbows on the countertop, a habit Ida knew Dinah disliked. “We got to talking and the time slipped away from us.”
“Still,” Dinah said, glancing at the clock and then at Ida with a look of frustration, “you are exceptionally late…even for you.”
A guilty sigh escaped from Ida’s lips. “I am sorry. Truly. But I needed to ask Sophie’s opinion about the new gambling hall that’s going in next door.”
A couple of their regular customers passed by the counter, slowing as they heard mention of the gambling hall. Ida closed her mouth and continued on with her work, an act of penance.
“Ah.” Dinah’s eyes narrowed. “I see. And what does your friend have to say about this latest dilemma?”
“That it is a matter for prayer,” Sophie said, looking at Ida.
“The Lord is calling us to action,” Ida explained, “and I’m to lead the way.” She contemplated delving into her story about Esther, but decided to keep it to herself for the moment.
“Oh?” Dinah raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve arranged a meeting with Reverend Langford tomorrow afternoon. He will know best how to advise me. And I am convinced he will agree that we cannot sit idly by with the enemy so clearly at work.”
“Reverend Langford is a good man,” Dinah agreed, “and a sensible one. He will give you a reasonable answer. He is not prone to violence, so he will respond with caution.”
“I am not advocating violence, of course,” Ida insisted. “But the Almighty expects his people to take action, to face their enemies with courage. Remember David and Goliath? Remember Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego?”
“Your second example bears little practical application, Ida,” Dinah corrected, “but I can certainly see the resemblance between our situation and what young David went through as he faced the mighty giant. Perhaps we’ve a goliath of our own in this out-of-towner.”
“Yes, that’s it.” Ida’s heart quickened at the thought. “And the saloon owners want to see this latest one gone, as well. They’re on our side for once.”
Dinah crossed her arms. “I dare say the saloon owners make for somewhat strange and uncomfortable allies.” She lowered her voice. “And I suspect they have their own reasons for wanting to see him gone.”
“True,” Sophie responded. “He will surely steal much of their business. That won’t go over well.”
Dinah drew in a deep breath and the look on her face grew more serious. “I hate to think of what will happen if they become angry. We will find them a force to be reckoned with, to be sure.”
Ida could hardly imagine what sort of trouble the saloon owners would stir up, if crossed. She’d never thought about any of this from that angle before. Truly, she only wanted to stop Mick Bradley.
Carter interrupted their conversation as he scurried behind the counter, chattering merrily. He opened his palm and showed them several of his most colorful marbles, gabbing all the while about his favorites.
Ida reached down and lifted the tiniest one from his hand to serve as an illustration. “I might be small like David. But with just one little stone, I could take those giants down. I could take them all down!”
She looked up, triumphant. Immediately her heart plummeted. Directly across the counter stood Mick Bradley with an amused look on his face. The little marble slipped between her fingers and hit the floor, plink-plinking against the wood-planked floorboards as it rolled out of sight.
As they all stood in stunned silence, Ida wondered just how much the man had heard. Dinah finally came to her senses and gave him a welcoming smile. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, please.” He extended his hand, and Dinah gave it a shake. “I need to make a few purchases.” He handed Dinah a list to be filled.
Dinah took to gathering the items, but Ida couldn’t seem to move. In fact, she could scarcely breathe as she took him in. Funny, standing here in this close proximity, he didn’t look like the criminal sort at all.
But you could never tell with wolves, especially those so carefully disguised. This one’s smoky gray eyes were a distraction, that’s all—like puffs of smoke from one of the passing locomotives. And his broad smile was clearly a well-rehearsed bit he’d learned somewhere up North. A true Texan could sense dishonesty, particularly in a Northerner. His sandy-colored curls caught her eye again, but she forced her attention elsewhere. She was a strong woman. She could overlook them with little trouble.
Couldn’t she?
Mick flashed that practiced smile in Ida’s direction and approached her.
“I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” he said.
“I know who you are, Mr. Bradley,” Ida replied, trying to ignore the fact that she couldn’t seem to overlook his handsome features after all. No, I will not be taken in by this heathen from up North, this tool of the enemy come to bring
