“Who’s down there?” an abrupt female voice called from somewhere above Star. “We don’t open for dinner until eleven.”
Star stepped back and tipped her head so she could see to the second floor of the building. “Wait!” she called as the shutters started to close. They opened again, and Star recognized Jane, the young woman who had served their inadequate meal the day before.
“What do you want?” she asked with a scowl.
Star’s heart beat a rapid cadence within her chest. Oh, why did Jane have to be the nasty sort? Groveling for a job was going to be difficult enough as it was.
“Well?”
“I–I’m looking for a position. I thought there might be something available for me here.”
“Why would you think that?” The hostility radiating from the girl could heat the coldest room.
Star’s cheeks warmed. She knew she couldn’t very well insult Jane’s serving skills, so she just shrugged. “I don’t know. I ate here yesterday and noticed how busy you were.” She gave her best effort at a friendly smile. “Your customers surely were running you ragged. I–I thought maybe you could use some help.”
Jane gave a sniff. “If you didn’t like the service, you could have eaten at home.”
“No! Th–that’s not what I—” But it was too late. The shutter slammed, cutting her off midexplanation.
Stomping her foot in frustration, Star spun around and took a second to swipe the town with her gaze. Across the street, a man stumbled from the saloon. He boldly raked her with a hot look and tipped his hat in drunken approval, despite Star’s plain attire and pinched hairdo. Thankfully, he didn’t attempt conversation. Star shuddered, her mind replaying every night of serving drinks in Luke’s Saloon over the past two years. She’d never go back to that! But what if she couldn’t find a position somewhere? Panic exploded in her chest, sending tremors of fear and dread through her belly. Would she be forced to serve drinks again?
She dipped her head and prayed a quick, silent prayer for help.
“Why, hello.”
Star jerked her head up in surprise. The seamstress stood only a few feet from her on the boardwalk, getting ready to enter her shop. Her lovely smile warmed Star immediately.
“Hello,” she replied.
“Joe doesn’t open for breakfast. As a matter of fact, he refuses to come to the door one second before eleven.”
“Oh, I wasn’t waiting for breakfast. I, well, as a matter of fact, I was hoping Joe might hire me. But his daughter—” Star’s voice trailed as she gave a helpless little wave toward the upstairs window.
“Yes, I saw. . .” A look of sympathy crossed Rosemary’s features, and she nodded. “My name’s Rosemary.”
“Star,” she mumbled and waited for the raised eyebrow her unusual name typically brought.
Rosemary only gave her a pleasant smile. “What a lovely name. How about joining me for a cup of tea, Star? Jane obviously isn’t going to inform her pa you’re waiting to speak to him, so you’ll have to wait until he opens for business.”
“I–I don’t know, I really should try to knock again.”
With hands on her slender hips, Rosemary gave her a firm look. “Joe will be clanging away in the kitchen, preparing whatever he plans to serve later. You could knock until your knuckles bleed and never get an answer. Besides, you must give me the opportunity to make up for my unspeakable rudeness yesterday.”
Heat sprouted to Star’s face. “There’s no need—”
Closing the distance between them, Rosemary slipped her arm around Star’s shoulders. “Pshaw, of course there’s need. I’d planned a little trip out to the Riley farm later to apologize anyway. This is ever so much better, because now I can treat you to a nice cup of tea, and we can get to know each other without an audience.”
Overcome by the unaccustomed kindness from a respectable and beautiful woman, Star almost broke down and wept. Instead, she reined in her emotions, smiled and nodded. “All right. I’d appreciate it.”
“Wonderful!” Rosemary beamed as though she truly was delighted. Star felt she had no reason to doubt the dressmaker’s sincerity.
Inside the snug little shop, Rosemary removed her gloves and rubbed her hands together. “Mornings are getting a bit chillier as the days grow shorter. I’ll have a fire on in no time. Would you be a dear and get some water for the teakettle? The pump is out back.”
By the time Star returned, a small fire burned in the woodstove. Rosemary beamed, her smile lifting Star’s spirits and assuring her everything would be all right.
Taking the teakettle, Rosemary motioned toward a small straight-backed wooden chair. “Go ahead and sit down,” she said. “The water will take a few moments to boil.”
“Thank you.” Star sat gratefully. The two-mile walk into town had tired her out more than she’d realized, and a hot spot on her big toe felt suspiciously as though it might become a blister inside the slightly large boots Michael had purchased for her.
Rosemary brought a stool from the other side of the room and set it down close to Star. “Now, tell me why you’re looking for work. Did the Rileys turn you out?”
“Oh, no! Of course not!”
“I didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.”
Heat crept up Star’s neck and warmed her cheeks once more. Rosemary obviously meant she wanted to be sure Michael hadn’t turned her out for a good reason. As embarrassing as it was, Star couldn’t blame her. “No, I just felt I could no longer accept their kindness.”
“But weren’t you staying there to help Miss Hannah? I was under the impression they hired you as sort of a housemaid.”
A rueful smile tipped Star’s lips. “Miss Hannah gets along just fine. She works circles around me. I suspect they only invented a position so that I wouldn’t feel like I was accepting charity.” As soon as she spoke the words, Star worried she might sound ungrateful and hurried to clarify. “Miss Hannah and Michael are the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever known, besides my own mother. I simply couldn’t accept their generosity any longer.” She glanced at Rosemary, silently beseeching the dressmaker to try to understand and not ask too many questions.
“I see. And does this sudden decision have anything to do with the conversation you overheard yesterday?”
Star averted her gaze to her hands. “I suppose,” she mumbled.
“Honey, there will always be gossips who delight in speculating. Moving into town won’t stop tongues from wagging about you.”
Jerking her head up to meet Rosemary’s gaze, Star regarded her earnestly. “Yes, but this way, they are only talking about me, and they can leave Michael out of it.”
“Oh. I see.”
And Star could tell by the raised brow and knowing lift of her chin that Rosemary indeed saw much more than Star would ever have revealed had she not been so annoyingly transparent.
“And does Michael feel the same way about you?” Her eyes twinkled and a teasing smile curved her lips.
“Oh, no!” Star couldn’t bear the thought of Michael’s good name being dragged through the mud on her account. Better to spell it out right up front. Maybe Rosemary could pass along the information. “Michael is much too fine a man to fall in love with the likes of me. I–I heard him tell Miss Hannah he was going to begin looking for a proper wife for him and mother for little Aimee.”
How her stomach clenched at the very thought of another woman filling that role. Despite knowing she had no business even allowing herself to think about it, Star had been unable to stop the dream of occupying that place in their lives. She heaved a sigh and glanced up to find Rosemary’s sympathetic gaze studying her. Star cleared her throat. “So, you see, Michael has no idea how I feel about him. I have no intention of ever making a fool of myself and admitting it. I only hope it’s not so obvious to everyone else.”
Rosemary’s pleasant laughter filled the air. “I have a knack for picking up on this sort of thing. Don’t worry. Your secret is perfectly safe w
ith me.”
Star couldn’t resist returning her grin. “That’s a relief.”
Steam lifted from the kettle bringing an end to the embarrassing conversation. Rosemary stood. “I love tea. There’s just something about a cup that cheers me right up on a gloomy day.”
A couple of moments later, she returned with two dainty cups, each sitting primly on a matching saucer.
Star took hers and studied the hand-painted roses. “This is lovely.”
“Thank you.” Sadness darkened Rosemary’s sunny expression. “They were my mother’s. I inherited the entire set of china when she passed on.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I lost my own mother recently. Sometimes I miss her so much, I think my heart will break in two.”
“We will have to be there to support one another.” Rosemary’s gentle voice felt like a comforting embrace.
Swallowing back the sudden lump in her throat, Star nodded and sipped at her tea.
Obviously sensing her need for another topic, Rosemary gave a bright smile. “Well, now, have you found a place to stay?”
Star blinked at her. “Wh–why no. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I assumed if I got the job, I’d have a place to stay above the restaurant.”
Rosemary gave a careless wave. “Honey, even if Joe had room upstairs, believe me, you don’t want to live there.”
Imagining Jane’s scowling face, Star shuddered. Rosemary was more than likely right about that. “Then what do you suggest?”
A warm smile curved Rosemary’s lips. “It just so happens that I have too much space in my room at the boardinghouse. I could easily move a cot in there for you. How about moving in with me and sharing expenses?”
Star’s stomach sank, and she dropped her gaze to the cup and saucer in her lap. Her mind went to the few small coins in her bag. “I am afraid I don’t. . .” Her cheeks warmed.
“Oh, don’t worry about that for now.”
Stiffening her back, Star regarded Rosemary with a frank stare. “I couldn’t take charity, though I do appreciate the kindness.”
“Don’t be silly. You can’t sleep on the street, can you?”
“I don’t suppose.”
“Tell you what: This place is such a pigsty, I can hardly find my shears. What if you clean it up for me? That would be worth at least your share of rent for a week.”
Star cast a dubious glance about the spotless shop. Pigsty indeed. She regarded Rosemary frankly. “Why are you doing this?”
“Let’s just say, if I’d had a friend when I first came to Hobbs a few months ago, things might have gone much smoother for me.” Her lips tilted into a grin, and her eyes widened in mock horror. “Imagine a woman living alone and choosing to be an old maid! I declare, I simply must be hiding something!”
A giggle burst from Star at Rosemary’s version of little Aimee’s tale surrounding the dressmaker.
“I see you’ve already heard the rumors.” The statement held no animosity, only a lacing of humor behind the husky tone.
“I’m sorry. If it means anything to you, I didn’t put much stock in what I heard. I don’t really think you’re hiding anything.”
The dressmaker’s eyes twinkled in response. “One of the most important things my mother ever told me was, ‘Sweetie, folks will always love to tell tales about anyone different. The most important thing to remember is never, ever give them a real reason to talk.’ ”
“Then it doesn’t bother you what they say?”
A wistful sigh escaped Rosemary’s lips. “I suppose it does sometimes. I don’t have a lot of friends among the women of this town.” She lifted her brow. “They keep me in business, so I shouldn’t complain. So, what do you say? Help me for a few hours, and you can stay with me at the boardinghouse.”
Reluctantly, Star accepted the kind offer.
She spent the rest of the morning sweeping up nonexistent dirt from the floor, wiping nonexistent dust from the shelves, and refolding perfectly neat piles of dress goods.
At eleven, she walked into Joe’s Restaurant, determined not to take no for an answer.
❧
Michael muttered to himself as he pulled up to the restaurant and tethered the team of horses to the hitching post. Only the memory of Aimee’s tears and Ma’s insistence that he “not come home without her” kept him from turning around and leaving Star to her own devices. If the girl was so ungrateful that she could walk away without so much as an explanation, then as far as he was concerned, she could just work in a sweltering kitchen and serve beef stew to the townsfolk.
What did it matter to him? Surely he’d done more than God expected of him. He’d taken her in, bought her clothing. But the memory of her bright face when she’d tried on the green muslin gown reminded him exactly why he cared enough to put aside his plowing for the rest of the day and follow her into town like a loyal dog. Star’s laughter lifted his spirits at least once every single day. Her beauty never failed to trigger a rise in his pulse—no matter how carefully she tried to conceal it. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that, despite her efforts, she was still lovelier than the prettiest flower ever to grow.
For weeks, she had woven her life with his so tightly, he’d come to expect her presence as a matter of course. Like Ma and Aimee. He resented her absence deeply enough that he’d paced at breakfast, unable to eat, and then again at lunch, until Ma had insisted he come to town, find Star, and bring her home.
He hadn’t had to be told twice. All the way to town, he’d practiced telling her how much they had come to care for her as part of the family and how Ma needed her there. But as he stepped toward the door to Joe’s, his forlornness had changed to anger. He had no intention of begging her to come home. He was going to tell it to her like it was, and she’d better not argue.
What had she expected? That he would just let her go? That in a town the size of Hobbs, he couldn’t find out from one stop at the mercantile where she was? Mrs. Merlin had delighted in telling him exactly what Star had been up to. Working! As a serving girl at Joe’s!
“Good afternoon, Mr. Riley.”
Snatching his hand back from the door, he turned to find Miss Rosemary smiling at him from her shop next door. He lifted his hat from his head. “Good afternoon.”
“Are you heading into Joe’s for a late lunch or an early supper?” Her eyes twinkled merrily, and Michael could have sworn amusement hung on her words.
“No, I’m looking for someone.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Well, yes. Of course.” Michael frowned. Why did women have to be so nosy anyway? “I’m looking for the young woman who accompanied my family to church yesterday. I heard she’s found herself a job at Joe’s. I have to go and talk to her.”
“Why not wait until her workday is over? You know how Joe is, Mr. Riley. If you interfere with Star’s work, he might find it an excuse to fire her. And then where would she be?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here to take her home anyway.”
“Oh? And what if she prefers to live and work in town?”
Michael let out a snort before he could stop himself. “I beg your pardon for my lack of manners, Miss, but why would anyone rather serve food for a man like Joe than be a part of a family?”
Rosemary tilted her head and regarded him evenly. “She isn’t a part of your family, Mr. Riley. She knows that, and the folks in town know it. She’s saving you from gossip. I must say, I admire her a great deal for it.”
Gaping, Michael watched her speak and forced himself to assimilate her words. “So you’re saying she left for my sake?”
“That, and because she just knew it was the right thing to do.”
“It wasn’t the right thing,” Michael protested. “We need her.”
“She doesn’t feel that you do.”
Michael scowled. “How do you know all of this, anyway?”
“Let’s just say Star and I got to know each other pretty well this morning before Joe hired her.”
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“Well, I’ve known her for a lot longer than a few hours, and I say she’d be better off where I can keep an eye on her.”
“I see. And are you prepared to offer her a proposal, Mr. Riley?”
“A proposal for what?”
She smiled pointedly.
Michael’s neck warmed as her inference hit him smack in the gut. “Of course not!”
“Oh? Because she isn’t the ‘proper sort of wife for you and the proper sort of mother for Aimee?’ ” Her words rang with challenge. “It seems to me, for a man not willing to officially make her part of the family, you’re awfully possessive.”
Indignation burned within his breast. “That’s my business, Miss. Not yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll collect Star and be on my way.”
“Very well, Mr. Riley. Do what you feel you must. But please consider something first: Star has made arrangements to share my room at the boardinghouse, she is gainfully employed, and I’m guessing for the first time in her life she is feeling a sense of accomplishment. Perhaps if you would put her needs above your own, you would see that this just might be the best thing she could have done.”
Resentment boiled inside Michael, and he fought to be civil. What would he expect from a woman who clearly chose to live and work alone? He’d never been one to put much stock in idle gossip, but perhaps in this case. . .
He jerked a nod toward her. “Thank you for your advice, Miss,” Michael said tersely. “Good day.”
But her words strung a trail of reason through his brain. Did Star actually prefer working at Joe’s and living at the boardinghouse? He almost convinced himself to return to the farm and come back later after Star was able to leave for the day when he saw her. She came through the kitchen door, carrying a tray. His heart clenched at the sight of her. Sweat beaded her brow and strands of hair had come loose from her tight bun and framed her face in ringlets. Weariness showed plainly in her eyes and the slump of her shoulders. Michael could see she tried desperately to keep up with the yelling Joe in the back and the equally demanding customers in the dining room. “Hurry up, Girl!” a man called across the room. “I ain’t got all day!”
But For Grace (HEARTSONG PRESENTS - HISTORICAL) Page 9