“Home!” she said in a pretty pout. “You hardly ever leave that awful ol’ plantation anymore. You used to take me dancing. You…used to do a lot of things with me.”
Removing her hands from his chest, he gave her a tired look. “That was before I was a married man.”
“Married!” she gasped. “Your wife ran off and left you! She proved she didn’t want you, and what other man stays faithful to his wife, whether she’s with him or not?”
“Since when was I like other men?” he answered, giving her a look of warning. They’d had this argument many times before.
The jangling of the bell on the shop door stopped Margo’s next words as they both turned to see Ellen Backes enter. She was a neighbor and a friend of Travis’s family. “I thought I saw you, Travis,” she said cheerfully. “Margo,” she added curtly, letting it be known what she thought of Margo’s pursuit of a married man. She’d never met Regan, but she’d heard about her from Nicole, Clay’s wife. Having known Travis for years, she felt she knew why Regan had run away.
“The oddest thing just happened,” Ellen continued. “I was in the church delivering fresh flowers for Sunday, and a man—a rather shabby little man, I might add—started asking the pastor all sorts of questions about you.”
“Probably wants a job,” Travis said in dismissal.
“At first I thought that, too, and of course I wasn’t listening very carefully, but I swear I heard the name Regan.”
Instantly, Travis stood upright. “Regan?” he whispered.
“I was going to wait until the pastor had finished, but I was afraid I might miss you.”
Without another word, Travis left the room and immediately jumped into a carriage, yelling at the horses to go faster.
“Damn!” Margo said vehemently. “You would have to go and spoil my day.”
“Oh, I am sorry,” Ellen said with a radiant smile as Margo flounced toward the dressing room. Turning back toward the window, Ellen offered a silent prayer that Travis would find out something about his wife.
The horses hadn’t come to a full stop when Travis leaped from the carriage in front of the church. Just leaving was a small man who looked as if he hadn’t gone without a drink for more than a few hours in his life.
Travis, never one to stand on formalities and too angry to consider consequences, grabbed the man’s shirtfront and slammed him against the clapboard wall. “Who are you?”
“I didn’t do nothin’, Mister, and I ain’t got no money.”
Travis pushed him harder into the wall. “You the one’s askin’ questions about me?”
Wincing from pain, trying to breathe against Travis’s big fist pressed against his throat, the man gasped, “He paid me. I was just supposed to find out if you was alive or not.”
“You’d better start talking. Who is he?”
“Some English dandy. I don’t know his name. He said you were a friend of his but heard you were dead, wanted me to find out when you died and then tell him.”
Travis pushed his fist harder into the man’s throat. “You mentioned Regan.”
Bewilderment crossed the man’s face. “I said the man was stayin’ at Regan’s place.”
For a moment Travis let up on the pressure. “Regan who? And where’s her place?”
“Scarlet Springs, Pennsylvania, and she’s Regan Stanford, like your name. I asked the preacher if you were related to her.”
Instantly, Travis dropped the man and had to catch himself to keep from collapsing. “Get in the carriage. We’re going to Scarlet Springs, and on the way you’re going to talk.”
Before the man could seat himself, Travis whipped the horses forward. As he flew past the dress shop where Margo stood outside, he didn’t even slow down. At the livery stable he pulled to a halt.
“Jake,” he called. “Give me a decent wagon, something that’ll hold up for a longer trip, and here.” He tossed money on the seat. “See the owner of this rig gets it back.”
Jake barely glanced up. “If you’re in a hurry, you better get goin’ ’cause it looks to me like a storm’s about to descend on you.” Nodding in the direction of a very angry Margo, he dropped the horse’s hoof he’d been cleaning and went to hitch a wagon for Travis.
Turning to the little man still on the buggy seat, Travis gave him a warning. “You move, and it’ll be the last move you make.” He’d hardly finished the words before Margo flew at him.
“How dare you drive past me like that!” she gasped, breathless from practically running down the street, chasing him.