A Town Called Valentine(14)
The discussion degenerated into the dangerous mountain sports each of their grandchildren participated in, and Emily used their distraction to finish the dishes and find plastic containers for the food. She needed to escape the Nate festival, and she desperately wanted to see her building in broad daylight.
When at last the ladies noticed that she’d come to stand next to the table, Emily said, “Mrs. Thalberg, I’m going into Valentine today. Are there any errands I can run for you ladies? I don’t know what time I’ll be back . . .”
“I’ll drive you!” Mrs. Thalberg insisted, rising to her feet in her housecoat and slippers.
“No, ma’am, I truly need the exercise. And it’s not far, not even a mile.”
“Well, that’s true . . .” she said, still looking concerned.
“It’s a beautiful day, and I’ll enjoy being outside before being cooped up for the rest of the day.”
They still looked concerned when Emily emerged from the small apartment with her purse and a backpack with a few supplies.
“Promise you won’t work too hard.” Mrs. Thalberg offered her a bottle of water.
Emily took it and smiled, already enjoying the company of these three women. “I won’t. And thank you again for welcoming me into your home. I promise to look into a room at the motel today, too.”
“No!” all three ladies said at once.
“We will not hear of it,” Mrs. Thalberg said firmly, in the tone of voice of a woman used to being in command.
Emily remembered that she’d probably been actively involved at the ranch for many years.
“We’re enjoying getting to know Agatha’s granddaughter,” Mrs. Ludlow added smoothly. “You cannot deny us that.”
“Every day is always the same.” Mrs. Palmer spread her hands.
Looking at the ladies, Emily doubted that. “Then I insist you allow me to pay rent.”
Mrs. Thalberg smiled in triumph. “We’ll think about it. Have a good day!”
With a wave, Emily went out the back door, shaking her head at how easily they’d maneuvered her. As she walked down the driveway to the gravel road, she glanced about worriedly, wondering if she could see Nate’s cabin—if he could see her. But wherever it was, it was well hidden. She relaxed, letting the scenery bring a moment’s peace. Silver Creek rushed along, muddy and turbulent, close to the height of its banks. This was springtime, and the runoff from the mountains must affect every river and stream. Across the creek, she could see the buildings of Valentine Valley, most only one or two stories tall. Between the creek and the town, a park ran along the banks, scattered with picnic pavilions, playgrounds, and a couple hundred yards down, a large white gazebo.
As Emily reached the bridge, the road she was on continued sloping up toward the mountain, and across the green rise were scattered the jutting gray headstones of a cemetery. She was tempted to go peek at the dates on the stones, then reminded herself that she had a purpose. After crossing the bridge, a couple blocks ahead of her she could see the tall stone building with a clock tower that must be city hall. With its back to the towering cliffs of the mountains, it presided over the town. When she reached it, she saw she was on Main Street, and turned down toward her building.
She walked past the storefronts butting against one another for several long blocks. A beautiful old theater marquee advertised a forties movie festival that weekend. Clapboard storefronts with bay windows on each side of front doors alternated with sandstone edifices with arches rainbowing over windows. Planters overflowing with spring flowers lined the sidewalks, and US flags hung from the antique light poles in a long line down the street. She passed a local history museum, a toy and gift shop, restaurants, and the Open Book, a corner bookstore that made her peer longingly in the windows. She could see the beautiful white steeple of a church rising from behind the Main Street buildings.
Villagers swept the sidewalks in front of their stores and greeted her, leaving her a little surprised. In San Francisco, no one looked at passersby, and now she felt on display, as if everyone knew her secrets. For all she knew, Nate Thalberg could have bragged to his buddies about the fun time he’d had at Tony’s Tavern. But no, that was too cynical of her, especially toward a man who’d given her a safe place to stay. Surely the businesspeople of Valentine Valley thought her just another tourist, and there were plenty of those, people taking pictures of the town hall framed by the Elk Mountains, or of the long row of flat-fronted stores painted various pastel colors. Young lovers—and those not so young—were everywhere, holding hands and looking about with delight. In a town named Valentine, she saw plenty of hearts and cupids and red accents.