Murder on the Last Frontier Read Online Free PDF

along the walls held bottles and medical supplies. The interior door across from the outer door was slightly ajar. Voices murmured from beyond it.
    Not wishing to disturb Michael and his patient, Charlotte closed the door and sat in one of the wooden chairs. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, and she wasn’t trying to be nosy, but the person talking to him sounded like a woman. Occupational hazard of being a journalist, eavesdropping on conversations. Charlotte picked up a thick book on the desk and skimmed pages as a distraction from the voices in the other room.
    After a few moments, the inner door swung open. Charlotte looked up, meeting the eye of a petite blonde adjusting her hat. The other woman smiled and strode toward her with purpose.
    â€œYou must be Charlotte. You look just like your picture. Michael’s told me all about you.” She stuck out her gloved hand. “I’m Ruth.”
    Charlotte rose and grasped Ruth’s hand. She glanced at Michael, who stood behind her. He winced, apologetic. Obviously Ruth was aware of Charlotte, but he’d never mentioned Ruth in his letters home.
    â€œSo very nice to finally meet you,” Charlotte said. She’d covered for her brother more than once. “Michael’s writings didn’t do you justice.”
    Ruth blushed and looked over her shoulder at him, beaming. “He’s such a dear.” She returned her gaze to Charlotte. “We must get to know each other now that you’re here. Oh! Do say you’ll be at the mayor’s dinner tomorrow night. It’ll be the party of the year.”
    Michael laid his hands on her shoulders. “Charlotte’s only just arrived and likely hasn’t unpacked. She may be too—”
    â€œI’d love to,” Charlotte said, grinning as widely as Ruth, but not for the same reason. Michael narrowed his gaze, knowing Charlotte had accepted the invitation just to irritate him. “I’ll see what I have to wear.”
    Ruth squeezed Charlotte’s fingers and gave a small squeal of delight. “Wonderful. If you need to borrow something, just let me know. The Windsor is such a lovely venue when it’s done up.” She released Charlotte’s hand and pecked Michael on the cheek. Charlotte barely managed to stifle her surprise. Who was this young woman kissing her brother? “I’ll let you two have your lunch. Mother and Father are expecting me back shortly.”
    Ruth pulled on leather gloves as she strode to the door, waved, still smiling, and left.
    Michael sighed and slumped into his chair behind the desk. “You just had to accept the invitation, didn’t you?”
    â€œWell, you obviously weren’t going to tell me about it, let alone invite me, so yes.” Charlotte took her seat again. “Who is she?”
    He avoided Charlotte’s gaze for a while, rearranging the items on the desk. Charlotte settled back into the uncomfortable chair and crossed her arms. She wasn’t so hungry that she couldn’t wait him out. Finally, he looked up at her and rolled his eyes in resignation.
    â€œHer name is Ruth Bartlett. Her father is the Reverend Samuel Bartlett, pastor of the Lutheran church.”
    Charlotte stared at him. “And?”
    She was sure there was an “and” in that statement.
    Michael fidgeted. He straightened his straight tie and slicked back his neat hair. “And she is to be my wife.”
    Shock brought Charlotte to her feet. “Your wife? You never mentioned anything about her. Not a word. When were you going to tell Mother and Father? When were you going to tell me?”
    It hurt that he’d kept such an important part of his life from the family. From her. When had things gone awry? While Michael was in medical school? During his disturbing tenure at the hospital? Since her own life had taken a path she’d been too ashamed to discuss with him?
    Charlotte winced,