Truth Be Told Read Free

shoulder.”
    He scooted up higher on the bed, and Amelia hurried to arrange the pillows so he would be more comfortable. He gave her an appreciative smile. “Now that you’re here, you can take over most of the writing. If Homer only has to deal with the machinery, that will ease his burden considerably, especially since the Peerless has been a bit cranky lately.” A dry chuckle rattled in his chest. “It’s getting old and on its last legs—like me.”
    As Amelia opened her mouth to protest, Homer darted back into the room. “That was Martin Gilbreth. He wanted to talk about his next advertisement, and he said to tell you—” He broke off when the outer door opened again and footsteps sounded on the pine plank floor.
    He stepped toward the sickroom door and stiffened when he caught sight of their visitor. “It’s one of those fellows from Great Western. What can he want?” He walked back to the printing office, closing the door behind him this time.
    Amelia heard the murmur of voices when Homer greetedthe new arrival. As she turned back to her father, Homer’s voice grew louder. She couldn’t make out the words through the closed door, but his agitation was evident.
    The sight of her father’s taut expression and the way his fingers picked at the bedcovers sent her hurrying out into the newspaper office, where she found Homer squaring off with a man she didn’t recognize. She laid her hand on Homer’s arm. “I’ll tend to this. Why don’t you go see if Papa needs anything?”
    Homer’s mouth worked as though he wanted to say more, but he settled for a dismissive shrug before stalking off toward the makeshift bedroom. “Nothing much to tend to,” he muttered. “He was just leaving.”
    Amelia turned to the stranger, a tall man a few years older than her own twenty-three years. He stared after Homer, turning his hat in his hands. Amelia took advantage of the moment to study him more closely. Wavy, russet hair topped off a pleasant face and an athletic build. To her mind, he didn’t appear threatening in the least, but Homer’s obvious dislike and her father’s reaction were enough to set warning bells clanging in her mind.
    She addressed him in a cool tone. “Was there something you needed?”
    He turned back to her, a puzzled look in his hazel eyes. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Wagner, please.”
    Amelia arched one eyebrow. “Are you a friend?”
    He shook his head. “My name is Benjamin Stone. I’m on business for my company.”
    â€œAnd that would be . . . ?”
    â€œThe Great Western Investment Company.”
    The note of pride in his voice only served to set Amelia’steeth on edge. Was that name supposed to mean something to her? “Did you wish to place an advertisement in the Gazette ?”
    â€œNo.” His brow furrowed. “I wanted to talk to Mr. Wagner about some articles he’s written.”
    Amelia nodded briskly. “Thank you, Mr. Stone. I’ll be sure to let my father know you were here.”
    His eyes widened. “You’re his daughter? I didn’t realize—”
    â€œI’m afraid he isn’t well,” Amelia continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “He can’t see anyone right now, other than close friends.”
    â€œI’m sorry to hear that.” He took a step back toward the outer door. “I’ll come back when he’s feeling better.”
    Amelia watched him leave, then pivoted and went back to her father’s room.
    â€œI’m sorry about that.” Homer eyed her with a sheepish expression. “I didn’t mean to let my temper get the best of me.”
    She pasted on a bright smile. “It’s all right. I was happy to take care of it.”
    Deep furrows formed a groove between her father’s nose and his downturned lips. “Don’t let