Randy shook her head. “Jake is done with that kind of work. I’ve spent most of our marriage wondering if and when Jake was coming home, or if he would make it home at all. We are perfectly happy with the peace we have found on the J&L.” Randy glanced over at Lloyd and Jake sharing laughter with several of the men.
“Perfectly happy? That’s not what I heard from Henry Porter,” another said snidely behind a fan. “I’ve heard your husband has an affinity for prostitutes.”
There came a few gasps.
Randy faced her squarely. “Oh, you must mean Gretta MacBain,” she shot right back, wanting them all to know she wasn’t the poor, abused wife who was ignorant of the truth. “Men like Jake have unusual friends, and there is a reason, Mrs. Lane. Perhaps you wouldn’t trust your own husband around such women, but I totally trust mine.”
The woman’s eyes widened with indignation, and she marched away.
“Don’t mind her, Mrs. Harkner,” another spoke up. “That’s Corinne Oates, and she’s the worst gossip in all of Denver.”
The rest of them twittered and laughed.
“What’s he really like?” another asked. “I can’t imagine being married to someone so handsome and able but with such a reputation. How do you handle a man like that? Is he as ruthless as they say?”
Randy was getting tired of all the questions. She just smiled and shook her head. “Only when he is protecting his own or if…” She sighed. “Down inside he’s just another man who wants to be loved and who is good to his family.” She decided to give them what they were after. “And he adores women. He can be quite the gentleman, and he’s very good at… Well, let’s just say he’s good at making a woman feel beautiful.”
They all giggled and some blushed. Jake walked over to rejoin Randy then, and the women all gawked at him, some blushing harder. Jake smiled and nodded to them. “Ladies, I would like to dance with my wife again.”
Obviously flustered, they backed away as Jake pulled Randy out onto the dance floor. “The tension was a bit thick over there,” he told her. “You okay?”
“I am wonderful,” Randy answered with a smile. “They are all properly curious and imagining all kinds of things about you and me. I gave them an earful.”
He pulled her close again. “Well then, let’s add to their curiosity by dancing too close.” He whirled her around the floor again as Brian walked Evie over to the table where punch and champagne and cookies were being served.
“You sure you want to do this?” Brian asked Evie.
“All us women need to take a turn serving. I’ll be fine.”
He kept an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Cook over there about some new findings on pain drugs. I’m getting rusty.”
“Brian, if you want to move closer to town and restart a practice, I’ll make do. I’m taking you away from what you really want to do.”
He kissed her lightly. “I want you to be where you feel happiest, Evie, and that’s with your family. I’ll manage just fine. I just want to find out what books and articles I might be able to take back with me to study.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be concerned about my practice. I certainly get plenty of chances for doctoring on the ranch.” He looked around as if to check to see if anything was out of the ordinary. “I won’t be long.”
He left, and Evie turned to another woman at the table. “You can go join your husband for a dance, if you would like,” she told her. “I’m Evie Stewart. I thought I would take my turn serving punch.”
“Oh, thank you! You’re Jake Harkner’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard what a kind woman of faith you are. My husband is a preacher here in Denver. Daryl French. I’m Linda French. Whenever you come here and want to go to church, you come and visit us, Mrs. Stewart. It’s the Methodist Church on the east side of town.”
“Thank you! I would like that.”
“Well, from all I’ve heard, you are a great testament to faith and forgiveness. Please don’t take offense, but many of us, especially the women, respect you for how you’ve risen above…what happened to you.”
“I don’t take offense at all. Thank you for the invitation.”
Linda French left, and Evie began pouring punch into glasses with a large dipper. Several people came and went, all kind and smiling, some asking what it was like to be the daughter of a rather infamous man.
“My father is wonderful,” she would always answer.