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words, once again Mr. Landry’s eyes betrayed a hint of mirth. “May I ask your opinion about something? Your honest opinion.” He stressed the adjective.
    Charlotte nodded, trying not to reflect on the irony that this was the second time in less than half an hour that someone had asked for her honest opinion. What would Miriam and Mr. Landry think if they knew that she had begun the day reflecting on her own deception? She was still undecided what she should tell Miriam about this man, and now he was asking her opinion. She could only hope it did not concern Miriam.
    â€œMy advisers tell me I need a campaign slogan.”
    Not Miriam. Thank goodness. “They’re probably correct.”
    â€œSince we’re agreed on that, what do you think of ‘Landry Never Lies’?”
    Charlotte swallowed, trying to dissolve the lump that lodged in her throat at the memory of all the lies and half-truths she had uttered.
    â€œIt has a nice cadence to it,” she said at last. “You could turn it into a jingle. You know, like ‘Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too.’” Though it had been more than forty-five years since that campaign, Charlotte knew the words to the song that had helped William Henry Harrison and his running mate John Tyler gain the White House. All three Harding sisters had heard the story of their maternal grandparents’ one serious disagreement and why their grandmother would croon the song only when Grandpa was not home.
    Mr. Landry chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that andfervently hope that my advisers have too. If I have to sing a song, I’ll lose every last voter. Bullfrogs are more melodic than I am.” He wrinkled his nose before turning serious again. “Ignoring the musical possibilities, what do you think about it as a slogan? Do you think voters will like it?”
    Not wanting to dwell on the idea of lies, Charlotte forced a smile. “I do, Mr. Landry. Indeed, I do.”

 2 
    Y ou brought the carriage.” Miriam tightened her grip on Barrett’s arm as her face lit with pleasure. It seemed he’d done something right today. There were times when Miriam’s mood was difficult to read, when he felt as if he were playing a role, trying to coax her into a smile, but the sight of his cabriolet with the top folded down seemed to have chased away her pensive mood. She’d been unusually quiet when she’d emerged from the dressing room, and he’d had the impression that he was intruding, keeping her from a private conversation with Madame Charlotte. That was absurd. Miriam had asked him to meet her at the shop. She wanted him there. He’d done exactly what Miriam had asked, and she’d seemed miffed. But now, fortunately, she was smiling again.
    â€œI thought we might go to the park,” he said when he’d helped her into the carriage. It was a perfect October day, the sky a deep blue that seemed unique to Wyoming, highlighted by a few fluffy cumulus clouds. The sun had warmed the airenough that strolling through the park would be pleasant, and though the trees the schoolchildren had planted were still saplings, providing little shade, that was not a problem, for Miriam had brought her parasol. “You can show off your new hat,” Barrett told her as he tightened the reins.
    Miriam wrinkled her nose, the look she gave him indicating he’d done something wrong. Again. “This is not a new hat. You’ve seen it before. Everyone has seen it.”
    â€œIt still looks very nice. You look very nice.” Barrett could have kicked himself. Compared to women, cattle—even the ornery ones that tried to hide during roundup—were the most agreeable creatures on the face of the earth. It appeared that he shouldn’t have said anything about the hat, but Camden had claimed that ladies wanted to be complimented on their appearance. His brother had neglected to mention that a man had to be