Victoria felt herself smiling at him in return. “Yes, it’s such a long way to walk,” she said in mock seriousness. “All of what, a half mile?”
“More like a quarter, not that anyone is counting,” Trace said, accepting the warm cinnamon bun and cup of black coffee Elsa handed to him. “Would you like to join me?”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” Victoria stepped around him to the counter to place her order.
Although she wouldn’t have thought him capable of replicating it, Trace offered her the same pleading look she’d received from Maddie earlier that morning, complete with a pouting lip. A lip that made her want to kiss it in the worst way.
Her head screamed for her to run out of the bakery and go straight back to Gray’s place. Much to her dismay, or perhaps it was pleasure, she ignored it and nodded again. “I suppose I could join you for a moment or two.”
“Wonderful. I’ll find us seats,” Trace said, then wove his way among the tables to an empty one in the corner.
Victoria watched him move among the patrons of the bakery, speaking to several, smiling at others. Obviously, he was well known and liked in town. From what she’d observed, Trace Travers was an outgoing, affable, hardworking man who had the distinct pleasure of bringing telephone service to a town more than ready to embrace the new technology it provided.
Although they had telephones at her father’s home and at Aunt Octavia’s, too, she knew for the service to arrive in a small town like Hardman was quite a notable occurrence.
“See something that interests you?” Elsa asked with a knowing grin when Victoria continued to observe Trace.
Embarrassed at having been caught, Victoria spun around to face the baker, face red and decidedly flustered.
Elsa laughed and reached across the counter to pat her arm comfortingly. “I’m just teasing, Victoria, although he is quite handsome. What would you like this morning?”
Victoria glanced at the trays of baked goods visible beneath the glass of the counter. “A cream-filled bun and a cup of hot chocolate, please.”
“Of course.” Elsa hurried to set a bun on a plate, asked her husband to bring a cup of hot chocolate to the counter, and accepted the money Victoria held out to her. After being robbed on the stagecoach, she’d wired home and had funds sent to the Hardman bank, managed by Luke Granger and Arlan Guthry.
After opening an account there, Victoria felt grateful to have immediate access to her own money again. She hated to rely on Gray for her purchases, although he was more than generous. A few years after she’d wed Wendell, a great-aunt had passed and left Victoria a sizeable inheritance. Rather than tell Wendell of it, she’d secreted the money into an account he’d never find and only withdrew funds when necessary. Since her father had kept Wendell employed, heaven only knew doing what due to her husband’s ineptness and laziness, she hadn’t ever needed to use much of it, at least until Wendell ended up in prison.
Irritated her thoughts kept circling around to her husband, she gave them a mental shove and took her treat to the table where Trace waited for her to join him.
He stood and held out a chair for her then pushed it in once she’d taken a seat. She took a long sip of the hot chocolate, savoring the rich, hot liquid while Trace cut into his cinnamon bun.
“What’s that?” he asked, motioning to the plate in front of her.
“Elsa starts with a soft sweet bun. They have an eggy texture, you see, then she fills them with sweet cream and dusts them with sugar.” Victoria cut off a dainty bite, stuck it on her tongue, and let the flavors explode in her mouth. “It’s delicious.”
“Delicious,” Trace mumbled, intently staring at her.
Concerned she had sugar or cream on her face, she hastily dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Trace dropped his gaze and seemed to focus his attention on his cinnamon bun.
“Did I hear there’s going to be a Thanksgiving program at the school and a Christmas program at the church?” Trace asked.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And will Miss Maddie be right in the middle of both?”
Victoria grinned. “Most likely. That child is not the least bit shy.”
Trace chuckled softly. “No, not at all.”
A lighthearted conversation ensued, and when they finished their sweets, Trace held the door while Victoria preceded him outside.
“Are you doing some shopping this morning?” he asked, pointing to the basket handle looped over her left arm.
“Yes. Claire isn’t feeling well, so I thought I’d see if I could find something for her at the mercantile.”
“I hope she isn’t sick. Please give her my regards,” Trace said, offering a concerned look.
“Miss Carter!” a short, bald, bandy-legged man hollered as he hurried toward her, waving an envelope over his head.
“Good morning, Mr. Greenblum. How does this day find you?” Victoria asked, greeting the telegraph operator with a smile.
“It finds me well enough, Miss Carter. Thank you. This just came in for you. I thought you should have it right away. Finding you here saves me a trip out to your brother’s place.”
Victoria didn’t think anything of receiving a telegram. Her father seemed to prefer that mode of communication to writing letters and had sent her three in the weeks she’d been in Hardman. He’d also sent missives to Gray, Claire, and Maddie.
She quickly pulled a coin from her newly purchased reticule and handed it to Mr. Greenblum. “Enjoy your day, sir.”
“Thank you, Miss Carter.” He gave her a gratitude-filled look then turned and headed back up the street.
“My father sends telegrams instead of writing letters,” Victoria explained to Trace as she opened the envelope and removed the paper. She scanned the words, read them again, and suddenly felt as though someone squeezed all the air from her lungs. The edges of her vision grew fuzzy as she wadded the message into a ball and clenched it in her hand. Then she had a sensation of falling before everything went dark.
Chapter Six
Trace caught Victoria before she crumpled to the boardwalk. He lifted her limp form in his arms, entirely liking the warm weight of her held close against him. Under other circumstances, such as her being awake and aware of her surroundings, he would have taken great pleasure in holding her, kissing her.
As it was, worry nudged out everything else as he wondered what caused her to faint so abruptly. One moment, she’d been happily opening a telegram from her father. The next, an expression he couldn’t even begin to describe settled over her face, as though she’d received disturbing news, then she passed out.
“What happened?” Fred Decker asked as he ran out of the bakery and over to them.
“I’m not sure. She received a telegram and fainted,” Trace said, glancing around, noticing a crowd beginning to gather. The last thing Victoria would want or need when she regained consciousness was an audience gawking at her. “Can I bring her back to the bakery?”
“This way,” Fred said, leading the way around the side of the building, down the alley, and through the back door. It meant Trace had to carry Victoria longer than he would have by cutting through the bakery, but he didn’t mind. Not in the least. In fact, as her soft fragrance ensnared his senses, he concluded he would have happily carried her five times that far without a word of complaint.