Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker's Revelation

“Sure,” Cotton said. “We work in darkness... It’s what we do.”

Driggs insisted Allie and Margie join the princess and him for dinner at the Boston House. Allie felt some apprehension and Driggs sensed it. He possessed a keen sense for others’ dispositions. He felt half the time that he knew what someone was thinking. He sensed Allie was titillated by his presence, his manliness, and it unnerved her. Made her more vulnerable and uncomfortable. Margie, on the other hand, seemed to be more dubious of him. That, too, he sensed. He was uncertain just why exactly; he had been careful not to show all his cards. He was good at that, too, that was his trademark, doling out only what was necessary for the given situation. Driggs looked at Margie the same way he looked at his princess and Allie, and at all women. He knew the effect of his attention, it was constant, but Margie was almost indifferent.

“Thank you, but I really must get home,” Margie said.

“Nonsense,” the princess said. “Please.”

Margie looked to Allie.

“Allie?” she said. “There are a few important things that need attending to before the grand opening.”

Allie smiled, a slightly nervous smile while Driggs’s eyes bored into her. “Thank you, Margie. But I think we’ve all done enough for one day.” Then she nodded some as she looked up to Driggs.

“All right,” Allie said. “We’ll join you, but I must warn you that I eat a great deal.”

“That’s what I like,” Driggs said as he opened the door of Allie’s shop. “A beautiful woman with an appetite.”

It was just past sunset as Allie locked up the shop and the four of them strolled up Vandervoort Avenue.

“All these bricks,” Driggs said.

“Yes,” Allie said. “New York in the making.”

“How did all this come about?” he said. “Why did this Vandervoort fellow decide on bringing his business here to Appaloosa?”

“Well, I am not sure,” Allie said. “You’d have to ask him.”

“Perhaps I will.”

“Never thought we’d be walking down a street — an avenue, no less,” Allie said. “Right here in Appaloosa.”

Driggs stopped walking and looked up at the carved stone above the stately office constructed in the center of the avenue.

“Vandervoort,” Driggs read on the stone above the office.

Then Driggs looked up the block, then down the opposite direction, taking it all in.

“It’s quite the accomplishment,” he said.

“It is,” Allie said. “Mr. Vandervoort came to Appaloosa a few years back, and, well, he has singlehandedly changed the face of this place.”

“Where did he come from?”

“New York, I believe,” Allie said.

“Well, of course, I should have guessed,” he said, looking around at the buildings. “Well, I’ll be...”

He looked to Allie.

“Have you been?”

“New York?” Allie said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why, no,” Allie said. “I have not.”

Driggs looked to Margie.

“How about you?” Driggs said.

“No,” she said. “I’m just a simple girl from Nebraska.”

“No?” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yet you have the sophistication of a young woman of culture and taste,” he said.

“That’s nice of you to recognize my developed interest,” she said. “But rest assured I’m as Midwest as a girl can be.”

“What city do you come from?”

“Lincoln,” she said.

“Ah, a wonderful city,” he said. “Are you familiar with the Hanrahans?”

“No,” she said. “I am not.”

“Wonderful family, the Hanrahans,” he said. “You must have been in the square in the Haymarket named after the great Henry Hanrahan?”

“The square?” said Margie. “Yes, how could I have forgotten? With the wisteria-covered gazebos? So beautiful in the springtime.”

“No one could forget those... And you, Mrs. French, where do you come from?” said Driggs.

“Oh,” Allie said. “I’m from a little bit of everywhere.”

“And how about you,” Margie said. “Where are you from?”

Margie stopped walking and looked to the three, who stopped and looked back to her.

“After all this time,” Margie said. “We have yet to be properly introduced.”

Driggs removed his hat.

“How rude of me,” he said. “I have a tendency of going about my day as if I’m in another world. I do apologize.”

He looked to the princess. “This is Mrs. Gloria Bedford, and I’m Lucas Bedford.”

“Mrs. Bedford,” Margie said. “Mr. Bedford... Margie Witherspoon. It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” he said. “I assure you. And the promise of more to come.”

Driggs considered the dinner a success and enjoyable for the women. He could be entertaining and charming when he needed to. He’d learned that from his father, and during all those years at West Point. Those lessons have finally paid off, he thought. West Point taught him discipline. His father taught him the importance of intelligence. He remembered his father telling him: Intelligence was made for men like us, men who are destined for greatness.

After dinner the women and Driggs sat at the corner table and sipped tea. Through the evening, Driggs learned a lot about dressmaking from Margie and Allie. Mainly Margie.

“For a young lady out of Nebraska,” Driggs said, “you sure know your business when it comes to fabric and patterns and stitches.”

“Yes,” the princess said. “She sure does.”

Allie reached over and took Margie’s hand.

“I’m lucky,” Allie said. “To have such a good seamstress, friend, and confidante.”

“Confidante,” Driggs said. “Why, that is wonderful to have a place to share your darkest secrets...”

“Well, yes, it is,” Allie said with a nod.

Driggs studied Margie, then said, “How did you two meet?”

“Oh,” Margie said. “How was it, exactly? I saw her, Allie, at the shop and one thing led to another.”

“Yes,” Allie said. “That’s right, and I’m very glad.”

“I see,” he said. “So you are new friends?”

“Yes,” Margie said.

“And you are new to Appaloosa?”

“Why, yes,” Margie said. “I arrived here on family business and stayed.”

“And how long have you been in town?”

“Oh,” Margie said. “Just weeks, really, but I like it here and I intend to stay. At least till Allie gets tired of me.”

“Oh, poppycock,” Allie said. “Listen to you.”

“And you?” Margie said. “What brings the two of you to Appaloosa, Mr. Bedford?”

Driggs looks at Margie for an extended moment, then said, “I, too, have some family business here.”

Allie and Margie waited for some more words, but Driggs left it at that as the clock on the dining room wall rolled around to the hour prior to midnight and started to chime.

“Well, it has been a lovely evening,” Margie said, looking at the clock. “Thank you, Mr. Bedford, Mrs. Bedford, but I’m afraid it is after my curfew.”