Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,1

because I have a meeting with Mr. Van Buren.”

Connie’s mind was already churning with thoughts and plans. She would have to secure a better wardrobe right away. The clothes she had at her aunt and uncle’s house were perfect for Washington’s social circles but would be confining and overly formal on the reservation.

“I’ll see you then.” She started to turn, then glanced back over her shoulder. “Tom, you truly are my best friend.”

He grinned. “I know. And you’re mine.”

She waited until Tom disappeared into Berryton’s office before all but skipping down the hall, despite her load. She paused at the flight of stairs that would take her to the second floor, where her uncle’s office was located. Smiling, she juggled the books and hiked up her skirt. She had to tell him her news. He’d be delighted.

Moments later, Connie burst into the office without knocking. “Uncle Dean!”

He looked up from behind the stacks of books and papers that occupied his desk. “What in the world? You rush in like there’s a fire following you.”

She added the heavy tomes she carried to those on the desk. “I got the books you asked for.” She gave him a kiss on top of his head. “And I got the job. I’m going home.”

Uncle Dean stood to embrace her. “I’m so proud of you, honey. No one is more deserving.”

“I’m just so relieved. This will allow me to help Mama and Papa.” She pulled away, looking over her shoulder. Seeing she’d left the door open, she went to close it so no one could overhear her words. “There. Now we can talk.”

Uncle Dean reclaimed his seat. “I doubt anyone would understand even if they heard you. It’s only natural that a child would wish to help her parents.” He leaned back in his chair and gave his graying beard a stroke.

Connie lowered her voice. “The very idea that the government thinks Mama and Papa could be a part of the conspiracy to incite the Indians to war just makes me mad. My parents have served faithfully ever since the reservation system came into being. They were there teaching and preaching before the government offered any compensation. They didn’t even raise a fuss when the government replaced them with the Catholic Church representatives. They just quietly kept on working to help the Indians, being paid with private funds alone.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know as well as you do that they aren’t capable of the things they’re accused of.”

“Well, in time I will find the proof that will clear them altogether. And then”—she shook her index finger at some unseen foe—“I will take them all to task for maligning the good Browning name.”

“When do you leave?”

“In a week.” Connie opened the drawstring of her reticule and withdrew a small brown paper sack. “I stopped at your favorite candy store.” She plopped the bag in front of her uncle. “Toffee.”

“What will I do without you? Every day your aunt asks me if I visited the candy store, and thanks to you, I never have to answer in the affirmative. When you go to Oregon, I shall have to do without or find someone else to do my bidding.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of interns who would vie for a chance.”

Her uncle met her gaze and shook his head. “I shall miss you so much. Your aunt will be heartbroken.”

“Aunt Delphinea will write me copious numbers of letters. Maybe you can buy her some beautiful jewelry to soften the blow. I’ve learned in this town that if you have something beautiful to show off, all your troubles seem far less important.”

“Ha. That’s hardly the case for your Aunt Phinny, and you know it. You were the only beautiful thing she truly enjoyed showing off. You gave her days purpose.”

Connie shrugged. “She could come West with me. In fact, you both could. I know my folks would love to see you.”

“We would be hard-pressed to get away. I have my work, as you can see.” He waved a hand over the desk. “And Delphinea has her social responsibilities. Goodness, the Independence Day celebration is just a few weeks away, and you know how many committees she’s on for that.”

Connie had often wondered if anything at all would get done in Washington if her aunt didn’t oversee or control the details. She wouldn’t have been surprised in the least to have found her aunt in the middle of the president’s office, barking out orders to those doing his bidding or