to roll around in a stable stall.
Edward couldn’t help the upward tilt of his mouth—both at her entertaining grimace and in relief that she hadn’t hounded him for information about Beatrice. “Some women are actually thrilled by the thought of new clothes. Especially when they are at the expense of someone else’s pocketbook.”
“You’re going to pay for new clothes...for me?” Her astonishment both amused and confused him. Had no one ever bought her anything before?
He picked up his water goblet. “I don’t think it entirely fair to ask Pinkerton to foot the bill. Not when you need to be outfitted with an entire new wardrobe.”
“Entire?” Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly does that mean, Edward?”
Taking a sip, he set down his glass. “You know—day dresses, evening dresses, hats, gloves, possibly even a ball gown. The wives’ club will host their annual summer ball in another month.”
“Why would I need a new hat and gloves?” Maggy retorted, her expression darkening. “It all sounds rather excessive. Not to mention a great waste of money.”
He had the impression she lumped herself in with the clothes as something—someone—unworthy to spend money on. Why would that be? She’d shown such confidence in herself as a detective. Did she not see herself as valuable outside of her profession?
“I agree it may be excessive.” She looked as if she could breathe again, until he continued. “But a waste or not, that is what you’ll need in order to convince these women you are one of them.”
“Fine. If asked, I’ll say my luggage was misplaced and I needed to replace what I lost.” She jutted out her chin as she forked another bite, the tongs tapping the plate with force. “And when am I to be subjected to the joys of obtaining a new wardrobe?”
He chuckled—he was coming to like her cheeky humor. “Tomorrow. That way we can square things up with the livery stable to have transportation at your disposal during your stay.”
“We’re keeping the nag and the buggy then?”
Edward scoffed, shooting her a teasing look. “The buggy, yes. But not that nag. Something tells me you’d appreciate a more spirited horse to convey you to and from club meetings.”
A mischievous smile chased the annoyance from her expression. “I believe that’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say all evening.”
Maggy gritted her teeth, trying to appear patient and serene as the dressmaker tugged, poked and pinned. She felt like a peacock in the ready-made royal blue gown, with as many pins stuck in it as there were in the woman’s pincushion. What she wouldn’t give to see Edward submit to such ministrations. The thought pulled a smile from her. He might not think a new wardrobe so necessary after that.
She’d driven the buggy into Sheridan that morning, while Edward rode beside her on the horse they would switch for the nag. He made arrangements with the livery owner about keeping the vehicle for a few more weeks, then he drove her to the dressmaker’s shop.
It felt strange, and unsettling, to have a man watching out for her like that. And she still couldn’t understand why Edward would throw his money away on clothes she wouldn’t likely wear again once this mission was solved. She needed to be convincing as his fiancée, yes. But to have a great deal of money spent on her? The uneasy feeling returned to her stomach, though a traitorous seedling of pleasure attempted to sprout, as well. When had her father or Jeb ever purchased a gift for her? Never.
Her apprehension began to morph into choking dread as thoughts of the past took hold inside her mind. Maggy tightened her hands into fists and received a scolding look from the dressmaker for not keeping still.
“Sorry,” Maggy mumbled.
She had a job to do. And whether it felt nice or not to have a man’s help, no one else would be doing her work for her. It was past time to do a little sleuthing.
“Ms. Glasen, was it?” she asked the dressmaker, doing her best not to move.
The woman looked to be about Maggy’s own age, maybe even a few years younger. “Mmm-hmm.” Ms. Glasen had said little—beyond asking what sort of gowns were required to replace the ones Maggy had lost, if she had any preferences for colors, and if she was new in town.
“How long have you had this dress shop?”
The dressmaker’s amber eyes lit with pride. “Three years.”
Perfect. That meant the woman might be able to provide Maggy with some useful information. There was no reason the odious task of being fitted for uncomfortable clothes shouldn’t be profitable in other ways too.
“Do you know Mr. Edward Kent?”
Ms. Glasen’s forehead crinkled in thought. “He lives near Big Horn way, right? Owns a large ranch there, I think.”
“Yes, he does.” Maggy affected a tender sigh. “He’s also my fiancé.”
The dressmaker glanced up from her work. “Is that so? I hadn’t heard the gossip that he was courting anyone.”
“It all happened rather fast.”
Ms. Glasen rose to her feet. “I’m finished pinning this one. I have one other gown that may fit you with little to no alterations. Mrs. Druitt decided she didn’t think the purple color would suit her daughter after all.”
“Does that happen often?” Maggy stepped off the wooden box she’d been standing on.
“Now and then,” the other woman admitted. “But I think the dark purple hue will look lovely with your auburn hair.”
She disappeared through a door in the back of the shop and returned a few moments later with another trailing gown. Maggy suppressed a groan. What she wouldn’t give to be back in her favorite trousers and shirt!
After accepting the dress, Maggy slipped behind the dressing screen and carefully traded the royal blue dress for the purple. Unlike the first one, this second gown felt more fluid. She did the buttons up the front, then stepped out to show the dressmaker.
“Ah, yes.” Smiling, Ms. Glasen nodded. “That’s the perfect color for you and the fit is exactly right, as well.” She stepped away from the floor-length mirror, giving Maggy a full view of herself.
And the view startled her.
She couldn’t say for sure that the color enhanced her hair, but the woman staring back at her looked more than confident and determined. She looked almost...beautiful. It was a notion Maggy had never allowed herself to consider before.
Tears burned her eyes as she glanced away, blinking rapidly. “It’s a lovely dress. I’ll take it, along with the royal blue one and the others we discussed.” Ms. Glasen would be making an additional eight dresses for her.
“Wonderful.” The woman beamed again. “I’ll have the royal blue one ready for you to pick up tomorrow and the others next week. Are you staying in town?”
Maggy shook her head as she ducked back behind the screen. “No,” she called over the fabric partition. “I’m staying at Edward’s ranch. My chaperone fell through at the last moment, but we decided with his housekeeper and staff around and me staying in the small guest house, that all would be right and proper.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to make the drive into town tomorrow, too.”
She traded the purple dress for one of her old ones, hanging the other over the screen for Ms. Glasen to wrap. “Not a problem. I enjoy driving a buggy and the countryside is quite beautiful.”
She finished dressing and stepped back into the room. The lovely gown had sidetracked her a bit from probing for