“You two run along,” Faith said. “I will take your things to our room. The sky looks as if it will open up any minute now.”
When Faith walked pass her father’s study the door opened. Phillip Gaines was a tall thin man. His brown hair was in disarray. His long face would never be considered handsome. His nose was hawkish and his brown eyes were overly large and spaced wide apart. “May I speak with you,” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” Faith replied. She lifted the bonnets in her hand before indicating the book satchel under her arm. “May I put Elizabeth’s and Lydia’s things away first. It won’t take but a minute.”
Phillip Gaines was seated behind his large wooden desk when Faith entered his study. The papers spread over the desk indicated her father was working on next week’s sermon. “Is there something I can help you with,” Faith asked.
“Sit down,” Phillip requested. He pushed back his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. There was not an ounce of fat on his lean frame which might explain the boney appearance of his face. He waited until Faith was seated on the straight back chair in front of the desk. The chair was not made for comfort and discouraged a person remaining for a long chat. “Mr. Cook came for a talk this morning,” her father began.
Faith gulped for air. This was not good!
“He asked if he might begin seeing you. He assured me marriage is what prompts his interest.” Phillip Gaines either did not hear Faith’s shocked response to his words or chose to ignore it. Phillip smiled benevolently at his daughter. “As the oldest daughter you are expected to provide assistance to your younger sisters. Mr. Cook is a wealthy man and has a good standing in the community.”
“I loath the man,” Faith replied when she could catch her breath.
“You say that now,” Phillip continued. “In a year or two you will know I am right in suggesting Mr. Cook will make you a good husband.”
Faith pressed her lips firmly together. She wanted to deny her father’s assertions but chose to remain silent. Out of long habit she would not argue the point with her father. Knowing in her heart Mr. Cook would never be suitable for her. “Must I marry,” Faith asked instead. “I have no inclination towards the matter.”
“You must marry,” Phillip replied sternly. “I am not able to provide for your future.”
“The future seems so far off,” Faith replied hoping for a reprieve.
“Take it from me,” Phillip answered. “The future is just around the corner. You don’t want to wait too long. Girls are usually married by the time they are your age. I have been remiss in not seeing to the matter before now. Being selfish I wanted to keep you at home.”
“Mr. Cook is . . . well,” Faith floundered not sure what to say. She did not like Mr. Cook but knew her father would only reply she did not know the man. “If I find . . . if I find,” Faith started over, “Mr. Cook’s attention objectionable. Will you agree to my not marrying the man?”
“I don’t understand your objections,” Phillip replied. “Mr. Cook is likeable. He can more than provide for your keep.”
“Money is not everything. Mother married you because she loves you,” Faith stated feeling she was on safe ground.
“Your mother was not the eldest daughter. She was free to marry the man of her choice. A minister’s salary is pittance. Mary’s father provides her with a yearly income or else we would not be able to manage.” Faith looked at her father surprise widening her brown eyes. She did not know Grandfather Stern provided her mother with a yearly income. “You see why it is important you marry well,” Phillip asked. “When Mr. Stern passes on to his rewards your mother’s income will stop. You must be able to see that your sisters are taken care of in that eventuality.”
Faith felt trapped by her circumstance. “Yes father,” she whispered. At the same time she knew she would never consent to marry Mr. Cook. The man was more than loathsome. He was creepy. She would just have to find someone else to marry. Someone that was more desirable.
Chapter Four
At the end of the day Royce hoped he had not made a fool of himself and wondered if he should expect a visit from Mayor Pillsdale. His investigation into Dean’s murder and the identity of Barlow might end before he could get started.
After closing the outside door to his classroom Royce took a deep breath. The air was brisk with a hint of rain. The sky overhead was gray and growing darker with black clouds moving up from the south. Royce decided to skip his intended visit to the Barber Shop. In all likelihood there would be few customers on such a foul day and his goal was to listen to local gossip. Normally a saloon was the place to pickup local news. As a schoolteacher saloons were off limits to him.
He would go to Morse’s general store, pickup supplies and return home. He faced a long night of studying ahead of him and wondered if he was up to deceiving twelve active minds. Marshal Tinsley would advise him to forge ahead and not worry over his mistakes. Still Royce saw his job as teacher looming over him like a dark specter and was determined to do his best. He reached Morse’s General Store and this decision at the same time.
Mr. Morse was behind the service counter when Royce opened the outside door. The man was medium height with blue eyes. His age was somewhere around forty. His brown hair was receding off a wide forehead. Mr. Morse could be Barlow from what little was known
