Page 32 of Taming Lady Temperance

The click of the latch broke off his thoughts. His pulse hitched as the portal creaked open to reveal a woman scowling at him. Thankfully, it wasn’t the woman he’d come to see. Although, there was a better than average chance that she’d be scowling at him, too, before this interview was over.

James fingered the brim of his hat and dipped his chin. “Evenin’, Mrs. Barker. I hope I’m not disturbing your dinner.”

“Of course you are, but I suppose I can make allowances for the law. What brings you to my doorstep, Deputy?”

Fighting the urge to tug on his collar, James tucked his thumbs into the tops of his trouser pockets. “I’d like to have a word with Miss O’Sullivan, if I may. Is she here?”

Mrs. Barker rolled her eyes. “What has that girl done now? I swear, I’ve never met a young woman so determined to run afoul of the law.”

“No, ma’am. That’s not why I’m—”

The proprietress wagged a finger in his face and shooed away his attempted defense. “I run a respectable boardinghouse, I’ll have you know. I’ll not play host to a criminal. If you’re here to take her in, I’ll clear out her belongings and have Mr. Clevenger come and fetch them. I don’t need that kind of trouble here.”

“No laws have been broken, Mrs. Barker. I assure you.” Good grief. He’d come here to reconcile with Noreen, not get her evicted. “I’m paying a social call on Miss O’Sullivan. Not a professional one.”

“A social call?” The woman looked so incredulous, James didn’t know if he should be affronted for Noreen or himself. “Well, don’t that beat all.” She swung the door wide and eyed him like some kind of circus oddity as he stepped over the threshold and removed his hat. “Gentlemen callers are to wait in the parlor.” She led him down the short hallway and gestured to an open doorway on the right, near the base of a staircase. “I’ll let Miss O’Sullivan know you’re here.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

As James lowered himself onto a floral-patterned sofa, it occurred to him that taking the alleyway to get here had served no purpose. For with three little words, he’d managed to set the gossip wheel to spinning at such a high velocity that it was bound to rip through Albany like a twister on parade. He just prayed that didn’t give Noreen one more reason to avoid him.

Sitting at Mrs. Barker’s dining room table and mentally berating herself for being a coward, Noreen dipped her spoon into the bowl of beef stew that stared up at her. Stew that should have been shared with James but instead had found its way to Mrs. Barker’s table.

“Would you pass the corn bread, Noreen?” Velma Stafford gestured to the cloth-covered basket that had come to rest in front of Noreen. “I know I shouldn’t have a second piece, but yours is so fluffy and delicious, I fear I have no willpower.”

Another item that should have been shared with James. Noreen had chosen a recipe from a Northern cookbook that called for eggs and sugar, knowing how much the deputy enjoyed cake. But over the course of the afternoon, she’d talked herself out of visiting him, not wanting to see the truth in his eyes—that she’d ruined their budding friendship.

Noreen forced her mouth into a smile as she passed the basket. “I’m glad you like it. I was trying out a new recipe.”

“It’s delicious.” Velma helped herself to a large square, then reached for the butter dish. “I envy your skill in the kitchen. I’m an utter disaster.” She chuckled. “Mama tried to tell me that following a recipe is just like following a dress pattern, but when I added canned beets to a vanilla cake because I liked the pretty pink color it made, she gave up on teaching me how to cook.”

“Well, I’d say you chose the right profession.” As the local dressmaker, Velma had a thriving business and a man who intended to wed her in the fall.

“I warned John of our need to employ a cook after we wed. Can’t have the dear man wasting away because he chose to fall in love with a woman who can’t even bake a potato without it exploding all over the stove.” Velma tilted her head as she considered Noreen. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in the position, would you?”

Play cook to a pair of newlyweds who would be a constant reminder of all she would never have? She’d rather take one of Velma’s needles to the eye.

“I . . .”

Mrs. Barker swept into the dining room, saving Noreen from having to formulate a polite refusal. Although, the way her landlady’s gaze roamed Noreen’s face as if searching for a third eye or second nose made her dread what her salvation might cost.

“You have a caller, Noreen. A gentleman caller.”

Velma set down her butter knife with an audible clink. “A gentleman? Oh, Noreen. How exciting! Is it anyone I know?”

“Oh, it’s someone we all know.” Excitement glowed in Mrs. Barker’s gaze at that pronouncement, the kind of excitement that only appeared when she acquired exclusive rights to a tidbit so juicy it guaranteed her ascension to the top of the town’s gossip ladder. “Deputy James Paxton.”

James was here? Why? To collect on her food promise? No, James wasn’t the type to make demands on folks, even if they had offered something and failed to deliver. More likely he’d come to check on her. Make sure she wasn’t ill or something. That was more his style. Kind. Patient. Ridiculously bighearted.

Unlike her, he didn’t hide from his problems.

“Noreen! I didn’t know you and the deputy were courting.” Velma’s voice quivered with enthusiasm.

“We’re not.” Good heavens. As if being the topic of schoolyard gossip wasn’t bad enough, by tomorrow morning the entire town would be speculating on her relationship with the deputy. “Mr. Paxton has been assisting me in planning a civic event. That’s all. I’m sure he just stopped by to relate some information pertaining to that project.”

Mrs. Barker shook her head and leveled a look at Noreen that spoke volumes. “Amateur. Do you really think I’ll be thrown off the scent so easily?”

“He said this was a social call, not a professional one. Made that point quite clear.” She tipped her head toward the dining room doorway. “He’s in the front parlor. Best not keep him waiting, girl.”