Cupid Valentine (Ornamental Match Maker Series Book 11)

by Marlene Bierworth

  “Now that we’ve settled on the material, Mr. Thacker, the final step today is for me to measure. Please, step into the sewing room?” She turned to her helper. “And would you accompany us, Chris?”

  Great! Kara appeared reluctant to be alone with Stephen, and that made him want to kick his own backside a thousand times over. Kara passed a booklet to Chris and said, “print what I tell you in the appropriate columns. See here for example. Shoulder span, and then to the right add the measurement when I call it out.”

  The process started and Stephen felt like a puppet. Lift your arm, sir; or, is this length suitable for the jacket? – All spoken formally and devoid of all attempts at social grace. Chris did her best to draw him into some form of conversation, but her employer squelched it every time.

  “Concentrate, Chris. We must not get this part wrong.”

  “Yes, Miss,” said Chris. But the nervous expression Chris cast in Stephen’s direction made him conscious of her fragility. The youngster had wanted something to spark between him and Kara. He’d seen it in her earlier excitement and now in her disappointing grimace. It comforted him to know he had inside help if Kara chose to slam the door in his face entirely.

  The bell to the outer room jingled, and Kara said in an irritating tone, “Can you get that, Chris? Put the book beside me. I’ll finish up here.”

  Chris left, and within minutes light whispery voices drifted into the sewing room. Alone, Stephen grabbed the opportunity to speak.

  “Kara, I do not like the disjointed manner in which our day has developed. I desire to continue seeing you.”

  “And you shall. There will be future fittings as I move the project along.”

  “Kara, I meant, outside the shop. As I stated before, I thoroughly enjoyed our luncheon and was hoping for more of the same.”

  “I wish I knew the words to say that might dissuade you, sir, from this pursuit. You are most persistent.”

  “Then say nothing, and let’s see where Cupid takes us. I see no harm in that,” Stephen said. He feared his voice edged on desperation and wondered how he had not spotted his lonely heart before today.

  Chris and Annie sauntered into the sewing room. “This is my friend, Annie. Soon to be my new sister when our folks marry up.”

  “Hello, Annie,” said Kara. I recall seeing you and your father dancing together at the Livingston Valentine dance last year. I suppose this year, you will have competition with your soon-to-be step-mother?”

  “That’s fine, Miss Frankford. Pa’s as happy as I am to have Chris and her mother out at the ranch. I can hardly wait for spring.”

  Stephen felt daring and voiced his thoughts. “A Valentine Dance? And you attend Kara? May I be so bold as to ask you to accompany me?”

  Kara squirmed, and Stephen watched as a reluctant timid smile invaded her face. “I have attended in the past, but it is usually a last minute decision depending on what’s happening at home.”

  “Is your mother ill?” he asked.

  Kara buried her face in the notebook all the while biting her lower lip. “Not anything the Doc can help with. He says her sickness is in her head, but he doesn’t live in our house.”

  Stephen didn’t know how to respond to that. Kara’s turmoil consumed her, and he decided that at the very least he could give support when she was not under the oppression of her family.

  “Then, perhaps you might agree, that if you do happen to show up, you will allow me the honor of filling up your dance card,” Stephen suggested.

  The quality of the air changed. Kara exhaled, and it saturated the atmosphere with relief. Stephen had not fully grasped the impact of her home situation – that Kara could endure life on the edge of such uncertainty only made him respect her more. But he could now understand how she’d perceive a man as a threat. In the future, he’d have to remember that she did not respond well to his advances under pressure.

  “That sounds perfect, Mr. Thacker. I shall do my best to attend,” said Kara.

  A hint of a blush satisfied Stephen that he was on the right track. “If you are finished with the measurements, I should get back to the office. I still have a stack of documents to go through before I call it a night.”

  “You work very hard, Mr. Thacker,” Annie said. “I thought only ranchers had to go back to work after supper time.”

  Stephen grinned. “A man,” Stephen grinned at Kara, “or a woman’s passion will keep them motivated to work long hours, no matter what the occupation.”

  “Well said, sir,” Chris said. “People think my Mama only works during the day, but in the evening she prepares lessons, reads and marks papers. Teaching is hard work, too.”

  “No doubt. And on that note, I will leave you ladies,” Stephen said. At the door of the sewing room he pivoted. “Miss Frankford. When will you require me to return?”

  “I’ll send word with Chris. I have a few pieces I am working on, but will get to your coat as fast as my fingers can get-to-stitching. I realize winter is in full swing and the garment would surely come in handy.”

  “Thank you again for your willingness to take me on as a client.” Stephen winked and hoped Kara received the message that he also hoped that she’d take him as a friend, or beyond.

  TERRIBLE NEWS

  Chris and Annie sped away from the shop with their heads buried together in conversation.

  “Can you believe it? The magic is working.”

  “Chris, we do not have any magic, and this match was not approved by Mrs. Claus. You would do well to remember that.”

  “Don’t be a spoilsport. It’s working, so we must have done something right,” said Chris.

  “Hopefully,” said Annie. “You being new hereabouts can’t be expected to understand obstacles some folks face here in the West.”

  “Enlighten me, oh wise one.” Chris hated to be on the outs.

  “Oh, Chris, don’t be offended,” said Annie. “It’s just that the Frankford family struggle personally and socially.”

  “That’s what makes Kara Frankford a perfect candidate for a lonely heart match-up. And Mr. Thacker too. He’s lived here all this time and is just now crawling out of his shell. It’s a match made in heaven.”

  “I suppose – as long as her Pa doesn’t interfere. He’s a force to reckon with, and people say Mrs. Frankford is plumb loco. They both hold their daughter prisoner in different ways. Restricts Kara Frankford’s choices in matters of the heart. She’s stuck in a hard place.”

  “Before we moved here, my mother and your father were stuck with unbearably, lonely hearts. Look what happened to them when the magic hit. Love has the power to break through for this new couple too. You watch and see.”

  Chris watched a shadow fall over Annie’s face. “Now what are you so down in the face about?”

  “I received a letter from Mrs. Claus.”

  “You did! I haven’t checked the mail lately.” Chris giggled. “Or was it that mystical glow in the dark like before?”

  “No, her reply came in the mail. Maybe we should drop by and see if you got one too?”

  “Good idea.”

  The two girls weaved in and around folks occupied with completing errands in preparation to head home after a day in town. They slipped into the general store and headed straight to the back, toward the post office.

  “Afternoon, Mrs. Foster. Is there a letter for Christine Spencer?”

  “Well, yes there is.” She winked at Annie. “Same bright red envelope with that strange return address in the left corner. You girls got some magic going on again? Thought all that died off with your folks Christmas ornaments?”

  “Oh, no, Ma’am. Love never dies off. It’s a year-round job uniting lonely hearts,” Chris said.

  Annie bumped her friend’s arm. “Not that we have anything to do with matchmaking, Mrs. Foster. We’re just youngsters, don’t know much about the gushy, happy-ever-after stuff.”

  “Yes, of course – Annie is right. Just spectators in this whole realm o
f romance,” said Chris.

  Mrs. Foster handed Chris the letter. “Well, it’s nice to know you have friends in high places. It might help to keep you off Santa’s naughty list.”

  Chris took the letter. It sparkled with glittery frost, and she experienced the same tingle all over that she had previously when her mother received the parcel from the North Pole. The girls raced to a quiet corner. Chris ripped the seal open and read.

  My dearest, Chris.

  I have returned from a long deserved holiday with my husband only to discover that your young heart is impatient and disobedient. It appears that I falsely interpreted your passion with the previous Christmas match involving your mother, as one I could use to help me in my matchmaking mission. I’m afraid that I sent the invitation prematurely, but I will keep a watch on your growth and perhaps contact you again in the future.

  A word of advice. Choosing lonely hearts is not like picking two people from a hat of possible contenders. I rely on the Miracle Maker to initiate my choice in who receives the magical gift of love. Perhaps you and Annie should lean your ears closer to His ear when in the process of selection. After all, He is love personified in our hearts.

  Respectfully, Winter,

  From the North Pole servicing lonely hearts.

  “This is terrible news! I see positive development in our couple – don’t you?” Chris asked. “Why can’t Mrs. Claus see that?”

  “I think she’s just upset that we jumped ahead of her. After all, she reached out to us in faith, but didn’t get a chance to train us to do it her way.”

  “Shucks! Our luck to have a boss steeped deep in rules. Grant you; I do have a tendency to race ahead. Ma’s always telling me to slow down,” said Chris while chewing on her fingernails.

  “Shall we simply back off and let Kara and Stephen discover their own destiny?” Annie asked.

  “We started the ball rolling, but I guess it’s their choice to run with it now. Suppose we’ll have to watch from a distance, though it won’t be nearly as much fun.”

  “You, watch from a distance! That’s like asking the sun not to come up tomorrow morning,” said Annie.

  “I know it’ll be hard, but we need to prove our worth, or Mrs. Claus will never reconsider us as candidates for the matchmaker job.” Chris kicked at the wall in frustration. “Truth is, I’d like to sock Miss Frankford’s father in the jaw. How can a grown woman live under a man’s thumb like that?”

  “Think it boils down to the fact that she loves her mother. Pure and simple.”

  Chris stopped her ranting, faced Annie and grabbed her by the shoulders. “I got it! Let’s head to the church right now, get on our knees and ask God to do His Miracle-magic. That should set us in good standing with both Mrs. Claus and the Love-Master.

  “Best idea yet. Maybe we should have started there before we barged ahead.”

  “Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and I think this match needs to be settled by then. I haven’t lost that urgent tickle on the inside.”

  “There’s a wedding coming up – that’s just as romantic as Valentine’s Day,” Annie said.

  Chris sighed. “Suppose I need to relax with the timing, huh? Appears there’s a lot to learn about this matchmaking business.”

  Annie giggled. “Wouldn’t Mr. Thacker be impressed to think youngsters can run a business same as women and men?”

  “That remains to be seen. Best hurry to the church. Our folks will be expecting us home for dinner shortly.”

  The usual bunch gathered around the supper table, those staying at the boarding house and the bachelors that bought and shared meals with them. During the adult conversation, Chris’ mind worked overtime. She’d experienced a sense of peace during the short prayer time with Annie, and despite Mrs. Claus’ chastisement, Chris did not regret introducing Stephen to Kara. Perhaps using Winter’s tactics – the ornaments – had overstepped the boundaries. If she continued to work this matchmaking endeavor outside the umbrella of Winter’s magic, she’d need to rethink the process.

  “Chris, Mr. Thacker has paid you a compliment. What do you say?” Tamara Spencer said, interrupting her daughter’s thoughts.

  “Sorry, sir. I was daydreaming and not listening.”

  “I communicated to everyone at the table what a splendid asset you are to Miss Frankford at the Made to Order shop and that you should be commended for your many talents.”

  “Oh, that,” Chris said. “Just helping make her shop stand out more – become a bit more customer friendly, if you know what I mean. She’ll be fine to do it herself once she catches up on orders. Lots of folks wanting clothes sewn these days, and I don’t know much about that part.”

  Chris recalled Kara offering to help her with a wedding present for her mother. She could stretch out her time at the shop with that sideline. Hands off – her mind warned – but there’d be no harm sticking close to watch the progress in the love department.

  “That’s what makes you invaluable. Your strengths are Kara’s weaknesses. A great team effort,” Stephen said.

  Chris pondered that and blurted aloud. “Do you think that’s the way it is with love?” She heard Annie gasp. “I mean – if two people responded to life exactly the same way what would be the fun in that? I’d get bored to tears.”

  “I have heard, opposites attract, although I’m skeptical,” said Fran as she passed the bowl of stew around the table for the second time. “Probably that’s why I’m still unattached. Stubborn and set in my ways is a sure recipe for a lonely life.”

  “I tend to believe that encouragement given from a different perspective helps us to grow in character and in new adventures,” said Tamara as she smiled at Joel.

  Chris was satisfied. “I like that way of thinking – meeting in the middle seems the way to go. I’m too flighty to stay focused so I’ll need a man to nail my feet to the floor at times. Of course, without stopping the creative flow that lets me be me. Tall order for a man, don’t you think?”

  Laughter broke out around the table and Mr. Thacker clapped his hands. “Bravo, little one. Great insight for one so young.”

  “Young, being the keyword. Chris is ten and should not be thinking about the attributes of her future husband.” Tamara passed the rolls. “Would you care for more, Joel? Eat up, because you know you’ll be the man of the house when Chris’ future suitors come calling. Good luck with that.”

  Joel groaned outwardly but passed a quick wink in Chris’ direction. Chris bonded closer to the man who would soon be her father. They’d be just fine – this upcoming Spencer/Parker union. Now if Chris could just get the Frankford/Thacker union half-way close to unity, she’d be happy.

  “Great supper, Fran” said Joel. “Some man is definitely missing out on coming home every night to your cooking. That’s all I have to say.”

  A chorus of Amen sounded around the table, as the group began to maw down on second helpings.

  *****

  On the other side of town, supper took on an entirely different picture. Silence pierced the air like a knife, but in it found Kara grateful rather than yearning for conversation. Her mother looked exhausted tonight. Kara knew kitchen clean-up would be her responsibility when all she wanted to do was to draw up the pattern for Stephen Thacker’s new garment. Her father reeked of liquor and shoveled in the mashed potatoes like he hadn’t eaten all day – which was never the case. Mama would sooner lie down and die than to neglect her husband at the noonday meal. Today, dark rings circled her sunken eyeballs while her greyish complexion portrayed a lifeless appearance. The woman’s mouth stopped chewing. Tiny cut-up bits of food still filled half her plate but her hands fell limp to her lap. Kara moaned, but attempted to keep her voice cheerful.

  “You feel free to retire whenever it suits you, Mama. I’ll clean up.”

  “Dog-gone-right, you will. Yer Ma is more work than she’s worth, and I’m not up to dealin’ with her messes anymore.”

  As if he had in years, Kara wanted
to scream. “A little kindness shown goes a long way. You should try it sometime.” She knew that remark would open a can of worms, but somehow today Kara felt stronger to deal with him.

  “Now Missy, that weren’t called fer. Yer lucky I’m feeling a mite hospitable today, seein’ its payday, or else I’d paddle some respect onto that purty little backside of yers.”

  Kara cursed the involuntary fear response that sprang up. No one liked a beating, especially when one passed the age where a father should strap his daughter. Why did she always allow him the upper hand? Lack of backbone and years of servitude had created this crippling weakness. How she longed for a man strong enough to sweep her away into a happily-ever-after she saw other young women enjoy. Her mind drifted to Stephen, but she immediately pushed it away. Her father would suck the man dry of his savings in no time, and she feared Stephen would oblige him just to rescue the fair maiden. She’d not involve him in her troubles.

  “Did ya hear me, girl. Today is the day you bring home the money to dear old Pa, right?”

  “Usually, but I worked late and didn’t get to the bank. You’ll have to wait.” She ducked from the hand that instantly swung in her direction.

  “I need the money girl to put food on the table. Look at yer Ma! So skinny and near starved to death.”

  Kara bit her lip to stifle the comeback, but it squeezed through anyway. “I buy the groceries and give you money besides, so don’t get all self-righteous with me. You want money for more liquor. You’re a drunk, a useless drunk!”

  That remark ended any further chance of his weak efforts to butter-her-up for the money grab. He stumbled to his feet, his face beet red and a river of sweat flooding down his face.

  “Don’t you sass me, girl, if ya know what’s good fer ya.” His eyes blazed in anger, and in its depth she saw evil swirling.

  Kara stood and chose to ignore him, her heart pounding within her chest. “Come on Mama. I’ll settle you in the room for the night.”