“I am not interested, and they will get the message one way or the other. Meanwhile, there is you, and that is of great interest to me.” Kara blushed at Stephen’s comment.
Angie arrived at that moment with their meals. She grinned at Kara like an overbearing sister that no one desired. The couple concentrated solely on the food as it was placed before them.
“Anything else I can get for you two?” Angie asked.
Stephen decided that he’d start spreading the message of his off-limits status to the waitress. “Just privacy, Miss Charleston.”
Stephen heard her sharp intake of breath. She’d need to grow thicker skin if she planned on continuing to flaunt herself at men. A grin covered his face when he looked up and caught Kara watching him. They listened as Angie’s footsteps faded back into the kitchen. When the waitress disappeared from sight, they both burst out in laughter.
“Mr. Thacker! I’d have never suspected such an insult from that kind mouth of yours.”
“Kind you say? And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“You have been especially kind to me with your words and your undivided attention. It is more than,” Kara stammered, “more than I am used to receiving from a man.”
“Then the men here must be blind. Myself included! For it required a little angel’s suggestion to get me to knock on your door.”
The remainder of the hour flew by, and they were just contemplating leaving the Guest Bin when Mrs. Charleston returned. She headed straight for their table.
“Don’t look now, but trouble is on the way. Sweet, but trouble nonetheless,” said Kara.
Georgia Charleston stopped, her breath ragged from hurrying. “Angie sent word to the Diner that you were here, Kara, and with a handsome stranger.”
“Not a stranger. He’s lived here in Livingston for over a year. I’m surprised you’ve not discovered him,” said Kara.
Stephen cut in. “I do tend to spend long hours working at the bank. Perhaps you missed me.” He rose to his feet, bent slightly and raised her white-gloved hand to his lips. On the upswing, he directed a wink Kara’s way then faced Georgia Charleston. “How I enjoy hearing that southern drawl you ladies roll off your tongue with such grace and ease.”
Mrs. Charleston blushed, and Kara had to look away to hide her grin. “Well, I wanted to be sure you received your parcel from the Bin. I noticed it a while ago, and Kara dear,” she turned to include his lunch date, “it is bundled with all the same mystery as your package.” She placed the wrapped gift – tied with a blue ribbon – into Stephen’s hands.
“Interesting!” Kara said. “Is it postmarked the same as mine?”
Stephen glanced at the return address and his eyebrows rose with the obvious question. “The North Pole? Is this a gag?”
“To be honest, I have no idea what is in it. I was in such a rush this morning I left it sitting in the storage room. Forgot all about it.”
Stephen covered Kara’s hand with his. “That must have been when I entered your establishment and threw your schedule off.”
Kara held his fingers lightly while Stephen turned again to Mrs. Charleston. “Thank you for retrieving the parcel. I had no idea there was a second post office in town.”
“No! These are personal deliveries. Looks like someone local is targeting you two,” said Mrs. Charleston, “and linking it to the make-believe. Christmas magic is gone – all spent up on Tamara and Joel. Or, Mrs. Claus might have missed you two, and now she’s backtracking. And, of course, there’s always Cupid.”
Stephen was not impressed with any of the woman’s theories. “Do not cheapen my association with Kara. She is worthy of the honest intentions of a man – not magic or manipulation.”
Stephen tossed some coins on the table, and reached for Kara’s hand. “Shall we be off?”
Outside Kara broke down. “What’s the matter?” Stephen asked.
“No one has ever been so kind. You don’t even know that I am worthy of anything at all.”
Stephen was confused. He’d never been comfortable with emotional females. “I know enough for day one and anticipate learning many more delightful things about you in the future.”
“Thank you for lunch, Stephen. Come by the shop after school and Chris will help you select the material for your coat project.”
Kara wiggled free from the grip of Stephen’s hand and hurried off in the direction of her place of business. Annoyed at her reaction and more confused than ever, he contemplated that he’d probably do himself a favor to let this one become the old maid she predicted. She was a complicated soul.
Once settled behind his desk at the bank, with the door firmly closed, Stephen shuffled a pile of papers aside and filled the spot with the wrapped gift. He’d received cufflinks from his parents in December, and his brother had sent him a new hat. Add dinner at the boarding house, and that had been the extent of his Christmas. He’d be a fool to think this small token gift – late – but addressed to him, did not touch a lonely place inside. Of course, he’d not consider the North Pole its origin. But someone in Livingston had wanted to share this with him. It gave him a sense of belonging that had eluded him in this new land where friendships had been a challenge. He did not labor with fellow cattleman and share tall tales around campfires, or sell useful items at a store and bond with scores of people every day. Folks at the bank were a different lot – mostly private and standoffish – the greenback their god.
His fingers toyed with the end of the ribbon. Stupid man. Get it over with. There was work to do this afternoon. The material fell away and inside laid a Christmas ornament? He picked it up. What on earth? He never even put up a tree in the small house he rented in town. A cupid angel held a bow armed with an arrow ready to shoot off. How odd. He noticed the picture, and a smile that reached deep into the pit of his lonely heart lit up his face. The shy cupid standing off to the side clutched a pulsing red heart to her bosom. The message spoke loud and clear.
Stephen recalled Kara saying that she’d received a similar package. The sudden curiosity as to its contents caused him to chuckle, but that died a slow death on his lips. For in her icy departure after lunch, she’d not given him any hope that Cupid’s arrow could be redirected to her.
NEVER GIVE UP
It was late afternoon when Stephen pushed back his chair and decided he needed a break from the office. Despite Kara’s puzzling behavior, he determined to proceed with the purchase of his coat and with hopes of figuring out what made the lady tick. She was a mystery, and there was nothing Stephen liked better than to crack the uncrackable. He determined to take the process at her pace and see where it led. Stephen wrapped a warm scarf around his neck to make up for the less-than functional collar on the jacket he now owned. Pulling on his boots, coat, hat, and gloves he opened the door and faced the cold February afternoon.
Rays from the sun provided a warm reprieve for Stephen’s face. He caught sight of the Made to Order shop sign and hurried in that direction. Livingston was a flourishing community, and he loved living here. Except for the loneliness. Meeting Kara had only emphasized that fact. Stephen dodged a wagon as he crossed the road to the other side. It took him a few minutes to reach Kara’s place of business – forced to weave around people hustling to and fro. When he finally stood at the entrance, the frigid air had lodged in his throat. He pushed open the door and closed it just as quickly. Chris Spencer’s surprised expression greeted him.
“Why, Mr. Thacker. Welcome to Made to Order. It’s mighty cold outside. Come and warm yourself by the fire for a moment. I’ll hang up your coat, sir.”
Chris spoke to him, as professionally and as articulately as her ten-year vocabulary would allow. Without effort, he could well imagine her future as the proprietor of a fine establishment such as this. As he watched, her chin rose slightly higher, and she pushed her frame erect.
“Good afternoon, Chris. Nice to see you again.” Stephen began peeling off his outwear.
“Miss Fran
kford is busy at the moment, but I understand you are here to choose the material for your new coat. You won’t be disappointed in her work. She is a fine seamstress.”
Stephen sighed. So that’s the way Kara was going to play it. He hated that the woman had pushed this job off on young Chris. The child knew next to nothing about the textile industry, but more than that, Stephen wanted to connect with Kara. He decided to watch for an opportunity to play Chris’ weak hand – one that would force the employee to call upon the expert hiding out in the sewing room. Stephen did not understand a fear that caused one to shrink from confrontation, but he was willing to explore it – if given half the chance.
Stephen chuckled at Chris who was all business. Tamara Spencer had many times jokingly referred to her daughter as Fearless-Chris, and today the youngster lived up to that name. Despite her lack of knowledge in talking textile to a customer her poise was admirable. She was a remarkable child with strong character. A great catch for a man, someday.
“I probably I kept Miss Frankford out too long at lunch, and it threw her behind schedule,” said Stephen.
Chris brightened. “Lunch?” Then a disappointing frown covered her face. “Miss Frankford never mentioned it. “But, yes, I suppose she’s been busy. We’ve barely spoken since I came in.”
“That’s it then,” said Stephen as he swished the palms of his hands together warming them by the stove. “I’m told this lovely room is your doing. Bravo! It is a fine spot to entertain clients.” He cast a deserving smile toward the child and watched as her countenance beamed at his encouraging words. “I believe I am looking at yet another future female businesswoman in Livingston.”
“You’re too kind, sir. But I suspect you are right. My mind is filled with strange ideas most folks never consider,” said Chris. “If you’re ready, I’ll show you the bolts of cloth you can pick from. And if you can’t find what you want, we can order it in for you. There is an entire book of samples.”
“A very well run shop. You must compliment your employer for me.”
A voice sounded from the door of the sewing room. “Thank you, Mr. Thacker. Kindness just flows from your lips without you even trying. Is there nothing in life that boils you over on the inside?”
Stephen rotated, and the impact of Kara’s sudden appearance brought a joy that he could not hide from his face. “Oh, yes, Miss Frankford. Indeed there is. Social injustice and shady commerce - the world is full of things to cause one to rise up with righteous anger.” Stephen noticed her countenance relax. This was a complex woman – needy on the inside, but ever so cautious on the outside.
“Will you be showing, Mr. Thacker the material then?” asked Chris.
Stephen watched Kara bite her lip. She wanted to. What was holding her back? He’d push her in the right direction. “I’d certainly appreciate your expertise, Miss Frankford. I’ve long trusted my previous tailor to make the right choices and have grown slack in the fashion of the day.”
“I suppose I can spare a few minutes.” Kara moved closer to the shelves where Chris had neatly organized the material. “Thank you for creating this display, Chris. It’s lovely.”
“Not finished yet, Miss Frankford. I have plenty of ideas that’ll make this place buzz with new life.”
Stephen laughed. “Look out world! Chris Spencer, designer-in-training, is preparing to turn the business world upside down.”
The youngster backed off to the other side of the room and puttered with another task, but Stephen sensed her keen interest in the interaction transpiring between him and Kara.
The shop owner drew Stephen’s attention to the mounds of heavy fabric. So much he’d taken for granted in allowing the New York tailor to plan his wardrobe for him. Stephen would enjoy this new opportunity to add his preferences to the coat design. Yes, and he’d take pleasure in working with the local seamstress – for more than one reason.
“Sorry for drawing you away from your work in the back. I realize you must have tight deadlines.”
“But, you are also a customer, Mr. Thacker. A new one, at that, and should receive the same consideration of my time.”
Stephen was disappointed in that response and the formal way in which she communicated it. “To be honest, after our luncheon today, I had hopes of snatching you away again and treat you to all the things your heart desires. I found your company delightful, and caught myself speculating about those lovely, long lashes that shield all your secrets from the world.”
“You’re wrong. I have no secrets.” The cloud that covered her face begged to differ, but she braved it well, lifting her chin a little higher. “I’ve lived in Livingston all my life with my family - a father whom I tolerate and a mother whom I love and take care of. Folks have labeled me the new and upcoming, old maid, as I do not entertain men and their fanciful ideas of courting. I will never become a slave to any man.” Kara inhaled deeply then glanced away. Stephen noticed the slight quiver in her voice, but he particularly tuned into her desperate sadness. Beneath a heavy load of care, Stephen caught a glimpse of her brave soul struggling to survive.
“Was that meant to put me in my place or inspire me to the challenge?” Stephen asked.
“Did that sound inspiring? Mr. Thacker, do all men have such thick skulls?”
Stephen did not take offense for it was a valid observation. The stark rendition of her life thus far, had only served to lure him deeper into her web. “We are a thick-headed lot, with ego’s that generally prefer to take leave of a woman at our time of choosing. But, in your case, I am inspired. For the one I picture lying injured beneath that wall of protection you’ve constructed, is worth pursuing. Please, allow me the honor of seeing this through to whatever fate has in store for us?”
Kara threw her hands in the air. “Of course! You’ve become captivated by the magical gifts Mrs. Claus has saddled us with. Perhaps it is her goal to cast a spell over us?”
“Us sounds promising,” said Stephen.
Kara’s tough exterior cracked and a smile that she could not hold back played at the corner of her mouth. “Who am I to discourage a lonely heart? Just don’t expect anything in return. There is no room for romance in my life.”
“My impression at our luncheon begs to differ.”
Kara cleared her throat. “Back to business. Do you like one of these selections or would you like to browse the order catalog for a different color or blend of fabric?”
Stephen turned his focus to the shelves and picked the one that had caught his eye at the beginning of Kara’s spiel. “This is my preference if you agree it would make a practical, but stylish winter coat.”
“I do, and that dark grey color will suit your skin tones best. You made an excellent choice, Mr. Thacker.”
“Perfect. So, may I be so bold as to ask to see your gift?” When Kara appeared surprised, he said, “the one from the North Pole, that has allegedly cast a love spell over us.”
Kara glanced at Chris and nodded. The youngster sped away to the back. “Chris forced me to unwrap it. I consider it a lark, a cruel joke arranged by someone in this town playing with our lonely state of singleness.”
“Are you lonely, Kara?” Her eyes flickered, and Stephen noticed wetness pool in their depths. He continued. “I know I certainly am. Busy does not always satisfy matters of the heart.”
“Mr. Thacker you talk as though we were well acquainted and not only just met this morning.”
Chris appeared at that moment and passed the gift to Kara. The angel ornament lay on the sketched page with the heavy cloth on the bottom. They all gasped when they realized it was a similar dark gray color that Stephen had chosen for his new coat. No one spoke for a full minute.
Stephen did not know what possessed him – he only knew that for once, he saw things very clearly. An unfamiliar panic filled him at the thought of losing his chance with Kara Frankford. His mind could think of nothing else but winning this woman for himself. He felt powerless to slow or stop the progress even if he’d
wanted to. Full-steam ahead seemed his one option for happiness.
Kara appreciated honesty. He’d go that route. “I apologize if I appear a bit forward. I fear I will lose my window of opportunity if I dally on the sidelines of your affections.”
“And you base that concern with full knowledge that I am destined to be an old maid? I fear it is your ears that are failing you, sir.”
Stephen would not be put off. “For example, this gift we both received: Mine is a cupid angel with a bow aimed – hopefully in your direction. And your gift is the angel with the heart waiting to be targeted. Now, it is clearly obvious the material used to wrap our gifts is strangely similar to the coat you will sew for me and which drew us together. To top it off, we both received the same sketch, so that links us, even if the suggestion of the North Pole is a bit of a stretch.”
Stephen could not help notice that Chris’ feet danced with excitement as he’d recited his conclusions of the clues. In watching her, a suspicion stirred that perhaps the youngster was somehow involved with this matchmaking scheme. Even if that were true – considering Kara’s notion that someone in town was out to make fun of her – Stephen would never voice his hunch aloud. Kara loved the child, and he’d not say anything to risk ruining that newly formed relationship. Besides, he could use all the help he could get. His musing ended when he was brought back into the conversation with a sharp rebuke.
Kara placed her hands on her hips. “And this whole mysterious gifting is what you base your interest in us on? You are not nearly as solid a character as I first anticipated.”
“I am indeed solid. And the gift was merely an example of one common element between us that is a bit unusual and worthy of consideration. But it is certainly not my entire reason for showing interest in us.” Stephen’s voice was rising. He hated that she fought him at every turn. “What I am not, is standoffish and unsocial.”
That remark did not hit the Cupid’s target and wouldn’t earn him any points for delivery. Instantly Stephen saw the lines of opposition drawn between them. Kara cleared her throat and the conversation escaped into business.
Cupid Valentine (Ornamental Match Maker Series Book 11) Page 5