The Rancher's Temporary Engagement. Stacy Henrie

paused in wrapping up the purple gown. “I imagine the local ranchers’ wives will be a bit surprised.” A hint of pain flickered through her gaze. “They do enjoy new people and topics to discuss.”

      Maggy could easily guess what the woman hadn’t admitted—Ms. Glasen had at one time been the source of gossip herself. “Is that who shares all the gossip? The local ranchers’ wives?”

      “Mostly, yes.” She tied a string around the paper-wrapped parcel. “They have a rather exclusive club that holds weekly tea meetings.”

      “Oh?” Edward had been right! “Do you belong to their club?”

      Ms. Glasen shook her head, another trace of sorrow flitting across her young face. “No. You must be married or engaged to one of the local ranchers to join.”

      “Who is in charge of this club?”

      “Mrs. Dolphina Druitt,” the dressmaker replied in a slightly flat tone.

      This was a new and potentially important piece of information. Mrs. Druitt was the same woman who hadn’t liked the purple dress for her daughter. Maggy would need to see what Edward knew about Mr. Druitt. Did he hold the same authority among the men that his wife seemed to hold among the women?

      Keeping her countenance impassive, she asked, “Do you think Mrs. Druitt and the club would accept me into their ranks?”

      The dressmaker extended the package toward Maggy. “I don’t see why not. You meet their engaged or married requirement. Of course,” she continued in a tone that hinted at more hidden pain, “if for whatever reason you chose not to marry Mr. Kent, you would be asked to leave.”

      It wasn’t difficult for Maggy to piece together Ms. Glasen’s untold story. The woman had likely been engaged to someone and therefore part of the local women’s club, but when she or her fiancé ended the betrothal, the dressmaker had been banished from the group.

      She felt a strange desire to offer the woman a measure of comfort. Not as part of a mission or a disguise but as herself. What could she say though?

      “Tea meetings sound a bit boring for my tastes,” she admitted with full honesty into the tense silence of the shop.

      Ms. Glasen’s tight expression relaxed and her lips curved upward. “I think they’re dull too. Although, the club does host an annual ball every summer that everyone is invited to and that is rather nice.”

      The summer ball. Maggy had forgotten. “That does sound lovely. Perhaps I ought to have a ball gown made, as well.”

      “I haven’t made a ball gown in ages for someone new.” The dressmaker went to the counter and grabbed up a stack of magazines. Turning back, she eyed Maggy carefully. “I think I know just the thing to make you shine.”

      Maggy didn’t want to shine; she wanted to solve this case. Used to staying deliberately hidden in the background, it went against the grain to draw attention to herself. But, this could very well be a means to the end of finding the saboteurs.

      She followed Ms. Glasen toward a pair of armchairs. Perhaps it was also a way to help out an unmarried female entrepreneur like herself. As she took a seat beside the dressmaker and watched the woman’s face brighten with enthusiasm, Maggy felt a glimmer of satisfaction that surprisingly had nothing to do with detective work this time.

      * * *

      With his left foot resting on his right knee, Edward hoped he looked the picture of casualness, though inside, he felt only agitation. He didn’t like being idle, at least not during the workday, even if it was important to outfit Maggy for her role as his fiancée. The other reason behind his uneasiness was the two ranchers seated near him on the long porch of the Sheridan Inn—the younger of which, Gunther Bertram, happened to be one of the ranchers Maggy suspected of sabotaging the Running W.

      “Did you enjoy that equestrian book?” Edward asked as he swiveled to look at Bertram. “The one I loaned you a while back?”

      While Maggy was busy with her new wardrobe, Edward had opted to walk over to the inn to see if he could get a head start on their investigation. It was more than fortunate that Bertram happened to be one of the men seated out front when he’d walked up.

      Bertram cleared his throat. “It was good, real good.”

      “You’re welcome to borrow another.”

      Did he only imagine the slight paling of the man’s face? “Real nice of you, Kent. I’ll...uh...” Another clearing of his throat filled in his pause. “I’ll have to do that.”

      “How are your horses this year, Kent?” Nevil Druitt, the other rancher, asked.

      Edward threw him a confident smile, one that wasn’t forced. Between the Cavalry’s interest and Maggy’s help, he was feeling more assured. “The ranch is doing well. And yours?”

      “Never better.” Druitt swiped a bandanna across his brow and balding head, his vest pushed to its limits by his rounded middle. “Heard from Harry at the livery that some woman came to visit you. A relation of yours?”

      Bertram smirked. “Who else would it be? It isn’t like Kent is interested in settling down. Not that I blame you one bit,” he added. “Women are just plain trouble.”

      “Now, hold on there, son,” Druitt said in a placating tone. “When you find the right woman, you’ll think differently.”

      Edward lowered his foot to the porch floorboards. “Actually the young woman who came to visit is my fiancée. Her name is Maggy Worthwright.”

      He wasn’t sure who looked more shocked at his news—Bertram or Druitt. The latter recovered more quickly, though. “Well, look at that. What’d I just say about finding the right woman? Kent here apparently has. Where’s your little lady from?”

      “Colorado.” That was where the Pinkerton office was located, and he thought he remembered Maggy saying something at dinner last night about living there.

      Druitt’s eyebrows shot upward. “How’d you meet then? Is she one of those mail-order brides?”

      “No.” Edward shook his head. “We were introduced by a mutual acquaintance, which was followed by a rather whirlwind courtship.” Of one and a half hours, he thought wryly as he recalled Maggy’s shocking proposal and then his own to prevent them from living a lie.

      Bertram regarded him as if he thought Edward completely mad. Time would only tell if that proved true. “What’d you go and get engaged for, Kent? I didn’t think you’d be sticking...” He shot a look at Druitt and let the rest of his question fade out.

      “You didn’t think I’d be sticking to what?” Edward asked.

      Shaking his head, his face now inflamed instead of colorless, Bertram jumped to his feet. “I just remembered I promised the saddle maker I’d take a look at some of his new saddles. See you boys on Saturday.”

      “See you Saturday,” Druitt echoed. “Suppose I’d best be getting on myself if I want to avoid Dolphina’s scolding.” He stood, as well.

      Edward nodded; he could easily imagine his late father saying something similar about his mother. At least nagging wasn’t something Maggy seemed inclined toward. She might be satirical and stubborn, but she wasn’t badgering.

      “Will you be bringing your fiancée to dinner on Saturday?” the older rancher asked.

      Edward rose to his feet. “Yes. I believe she might also like to join that ladies’ club.” He pretended to try to recall more information. “I think it’s the one that the other ranchers’ wives and sweethearts are members of.”

      “I’m sure they’d welcome her warmly.” Druitt pocketed his bandanna. “A prosperous ranch and a wife-to-be? Congratulations, Kent. You’re doing well for yourself.”

      The words sounded admiring, but Edward wondered at their sincerity. “Thank