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boardinghouse. She hardly noticed the clear rays of sunshine beaming across the chewed-up backyard, or the gaping holes that had once housed trees.
    “Well?” Emmeline asked.
    Rebecca drew in a quick breath and returned her attention to her friend. “Apparently, Matilda Johnson thinks that I lured Pete into his storm cellar during the tornado for unseemly purposes.”
    “No.” Shock leaped into Emmeline’s eyes. “She didn’t actually say that.”
    “She did.”
    Emmeline sank into the chair behind her. “Why, that’s…awful.”
    Until she’d seen the outrage on her friend’s face, until she’d heard the appalled disgust in Emmeline’s voice, Rebecca hadn’t realized how much she’d needed an ally. “It is rather awful, isn’t it?”
    “Please, sit down.” Emmeline gestured to an empty chair facing her. “You must tell me everything that woman said, and then we’ll determine what to do next.”
    With the bread dough rising and the pies she’d made for lunch baking in the oven, Rebecca wiped her hands on her apron and did as her friend requested. It would be nice to share her burden with someone willing to listen to her side of the story before making judgments.
    “All right, start at the beginning.” Emmeline’s foot drummed out an impatient tap, tap, tap on the floor. Rebecca tried not to sigh. She recognized that expression on her friend’s face. Emmeline was about to take charge of the situation, just as she had with her own family after the tornado had hit their wagon train and stranded them in High Plains. Even before her father’s death in the storm, Emmeline’s mother had alternated between timidity and illness, leaving Emmeline in charge of her three younger siblings.
    No wonder Emmeline glared at her with all that determination. It was just a part of who she was as a woman. Unfortunately, no matter how hard Rebecca thought over her words, she knew her friend wasn’t going to let her skirt over any of the details.
    Just as she opened her mouth, Emmeline leaned forward. “All right, that’s enough stalling. How on earth did Matilda Johnson find out that you and Pete took cover together? I didn’t even know about that until you told me a few minutes ago.”
    Rebecca’s heartbeat picked up speed, matching Emmeline’s frantic toe-tapping rhythm. Now that she had a sympathetic audience, she found herself hesitating. She didn’t want to create her own set of rumors, but the facts were unfortunately the facts. She’d spent time alone with an unmarried man in his storm cellar. “I’m afraid she suspected and I confirmed it. I didn’t think she’d turn something innocent into something ugly.”
    “Oh, Rebecca, I’m just sick about this.”
    “Emmeline, you have to believe me. We were only in that storm cellar a short while. And nothing inappropriate happened. Like I said earlier, Pete saved my life.”
    Emmeline’s foot stilled. “Well, of course he did. Mrs. Johnson had no right to insinuate otherwise.”
    No, she hadn’t had that right. But the damage was done. Rebecca’s reputation was most certainly ruined, or on its way to becoming so. She’d lived in High Plains almost seven months, long enough to know the power of Mrs. Johnson’s tongue.
    Rebecca’s stomach curled inside itself at the thought. She’d never been accused of a moral misdeed. Not as a child in Norway, not on the ship across the Atlantic, not on the wagon train to High Plains. And yet, the shame burned through her all the same.
    It didn’t matter that Pete had been a gentleman inside that storm cellar. It didn’t matter that he’d saved her life. Apparently, what did matter was that she’d been alonewith him, without the benefit of a chaperone or anyone else to vouch for her innocence.
    It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t—
    Emmeline made a soft sound in her throat. “That woman didn’t accuse you of impropriety in front of anyone else, did she?”
    “No.” Rebecca drew in a short