Tonight, Dessie was full of stories about the people she’d seen that day in the mercantile, what they wore, and what they said. Patience believed the mercantile must be an interesting place to work. Dessie’s way of storytelling was entertaining.
Dessie gestured wildly as she spoke. “You should have seen Apple Blossom Queen Virginia today. She swept in like she really was royalty and became angry when she had to wait. I’d been told to put away a new shipment of garden tools. Of course, I may have taken my time.”
Everyone laughed at the idea of high-handed Virginia waiting and fuming.
Agnes smoothed a hand across her skirt. “If I wouldn’t lose my job, I could tell you plenty about Miss Winfield and her family. She’s not as exalted as she believes.”
Patience said, “How could anyone be as lofty as she thinks herself to be?”
Dessie broke into another story about someone with whom Patience wasn’t acquainted but who was known to the other women. Dessie pranced to copy the woman in the story and mimicked the person’s voice.”
Patience leaned forward. “You’re a wonderful actress, Dessie. Do they have plays in town? If so, you’d be perfect on stage.”
“We have a nice opera house. Some troupes need locals to fill in and I’ve had parts a few times. I liked being on stage.” She went on to recount a hilarious incident when a group presented “Taming of the Shrew” the previous year.
Patience still missed Mercy, but what how lovely to laugh with friends once more.
Chapter Eight
At work, Patience had the pay packets ready by Wednesday evening, and filed them into the safe in Andrew’s office.
“I’m surprised Andrew is away from the orchard so often,” she said as she shut the safe door.
Stone stood in the doorway. “He’s been playing hooky a lot the last six or seven months. I don’t know what’s going on. He’ll be here full time when harvest begins.”
“I’m sure that’s a hectic time.” She walked toward him, intending to squeeze by and go back to her desk.
Stone didn’t move and she turned sideways to slide past him. Her breath caught as she brushed against him. He smelled of pine and bay and healthy man. His blue eyes darkened to navy as he looked down at her when she passed. Tension spread through her body like an ocean wave.
No, no, no.
This would never do. She couldn’t be attracted to Stone. In two weeks she was marrying his father and he’d be her stepson.
Get a grip on yourself, Patience Eaton.
If only Andrew’s nearness created the sensations she had when close to Stone. Not only had Andrew not kissed her, he hadn’t even flirted with her. She was grateful, but the facts made her wary.
Obviously, Andrew wasn’t attracted to her any more than she was to him. Why hadn’t he backed out of the marriage? Perhaps he believed himself honor-bound just as she was. What was she to do to resolve the problem?
She went to the water bucket and drank from the dipper. Moistening her handkerchief, she brushed the cloth across her neck and forehead. Taking a deep breath, she turned to see Stone watching her. The look in his dark blue eyes increased her heartbeat and did funny things to her insides.
“Warm, Patience?” Leaning against the door jamb, he smiled at her and raised an eyebrow.
Fighting to appear calm and disinterested, she reclaimed her chair at her desk. “A little tired but the damp handkerchief refreshed me. Thank you for your concern.”
“Just trying to look after you. Let me know if you need anything.” He went into his own office and she exhaled her relief.
What was she going to do? Her attraction to him had been growing. She wanted to hit herself with the ledger as she’d done Stone yesterday. Perhaps she could pound sense into her wayward thoughts.
***
Stone had barely gone into his office when he decided to leave. “I’m going for a walk to check on things at the equipment barn. Back later.”
He left with no particular destination in mind. His intention was to put distance between himself and Patience. In a couple of weeks she’d be his stepmother. The thought sent him spiraling into despair.
What had he been thinking to flirt with her? The wrong part of his anatomy had taken over instead of his brain. He considered banging his head against a tree. Perhaps that would knock sense into his head.
Damn, he was physically attracted to the woman destined to become his stepmother. Attracted in a big way. He’d had trouble sleeping lately because of her. In his dreams he saw her laughing with her dark eyes sparkling the way she was on Saturday. He’d known he shouldn’t have gone to that damned festival.
He’d start wearing workman’s clothes so he could get out of the office more. Sure, and who’d take care of the work he neglected? Tracking their real estate, moving investments, and making certain the orchard ran smoothly were his domain.
Callahan saw him and came over. “You need something done, boss?”
“No, just out stretching my legs. Needed to get some fresh air.”
Callahan nodded. “Aye, was I locked up with Miss Eaton, I’d need to stretch my legs too. Pretty woman and seems smart. Dangerous combination that.”
The man touched two fingers to his brow and walked on. So much for fooling anyone except Patience. He sat under a tree and gathered a handful of fallen blossoms. He pictured Patience married to his father and pregnant with a child. Good heavens, he could have a baby brother or sister by this time next year.
A wave of perfume hit him. Looking down, he realized he’d crushed the blossoms until his knuckles were white. He tossed the wilted but fragrant petals aside. He had a big problem and he didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t even anyone with whom he could share his misery. Maybe he’d go to town tonight and have a few drinks with Ralph and Tom.
***
Patience was sitting at her desk the next morning when Stone entered. He whistled softly through his teeth and, when he met her gaze, he had a black eye.
She stood but didn’t go over to him. “What happened, Stone? Were you in an accident?”
He grinned, calling attention to his split lip. “You could say that. I accidentally forgot to duck. Don’t worry, I won. Lance Vermillion looks far worse than I do.”
Andrew stood in the doorway of his office. “Vermillion? Son, what came over you? That bruising had better be faded by the time we go to Tacoma.”
Stone shrugged and resumed whistling quietly as he went into his office and closed the door behind him.
Andrew walked over to her desk. “I can’t imagine what’s come over him but he’s acting odd. Have you noticed anything?”
She had, ever since they’d been paired at the festival while Andrew judged foods. “I haven’t known him long enough to recognize a difference. Nothing unusual has occurred, though. Not that I’m aware of, that is. Perhaps something happened one evening.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “Until yesterday, he’s spent evenings reading for the past two years. I’ll never understand that boy.”
She shook her head. “He’s not a boy, Andrew. He’s a man and entitled to his eccentricities the same as anyone else.”
Andrew paused and stared. Suddenly, he aged before her. “You’re right, of course. Because he’s my son, I call him a boy. I remember him from the time he was a baby and a little boy tagging after me.”
“I understand. Although I don’t have children, I watched my brothers grow and can’t help remembering them as babies. Especially the twelve-year-old, Jason, who wants to be treated as if he’s grown.”
Andrew drew himself up. “I believe I’ll take care of some errands in town. I’ll be back in time to take you home.”
***
The following morning, Andrew was as chipper as ever when he called for her. They traveled at a faster clip than usual.
Once inside the office, Andrew hurried to Stone’s door. “Just got word the old Willoughby building is going up for sale. Shall we bid on it?”
Stone came to the doorway. “That would give us an entire block. How much are they expecting?”
Andrew named a price that set Patience’s head swimming.
Stone hurried back to his desk. “Let me check some figures. If we want it, we’d better not delay.” He did some calculation. “We can do it, Dad.”
Andrew held up a hand. “You’d better go, son. You’re better at hiding your thoughts. You know I never play poker.”
After exchanging a few more details, Stone hurried to the buggy and drove toward town.
“I didn’t realize you were so involved in real estate. I hope the sale goes well for you.”
“Ah, me too. We make a good bit of our income from real estate. Leases, you know. Also we build the occasional home and sell it. I pick the spot and Stone designs the house.”
“You’re a good team. Working well with your son must be rewarding.”
“Yes, if only he’d marry. Seeing your child—no matter what age—lonely hurts a parent. I’d give all I have to see him happy.”
“Being married doesn’t guarantee happiness. What if he married someone like that woman who defamed him?”
Andrew appeared surprised. “Told you about her, did he?” He shook his head. “No, he’d never do that. Very straight-laced, you know. Whoever he marries will be a fine, talented woman of good reputation.”
“Then I hope he weds soon so you’ll be content.”
Andrew gave her an odd glance. “Me, too, my dear. Very soon.”
***
Andrew insisted Patience remain home on Tuesday to receive her dresses from Madame Delacroix.
A little before ten, Marianne dropped by to wait with her. “Henri makes deliveries about this time each day.”
They waited only a half-hour before the teen arrived laden with boxes on a cart.
Marianne gestured up the stairs. “Front room, Henri.”
Mrs. Shaw bustled in. “Here now, no men upstairs.”
Patience sought to soothe her landlady. “He’s only making a delivery. Please allow him to carry all these boxes upstairs for me.”
“Land sakes! Did you buy out a shop? All right, seeing as how it’s you and none of the other boarders are here.” She nodded at the young man. “Go ahead, but don’t be getting ideas.”
Patience wondered what ideas he would get making a delivery. She hurried up in front of him. “Are you coming Marianne?”
“Of course, dear. Right behind you.”
Henri stacked boxes in one corner. “There’re more.”
Patience raced to her purse. “I’m sure I’m supposed to tip him. What’s appropriate?”
Marianne flicked her wrist. “A dollar should be enough.”
A dollar for a delivery seemed a huge amount to Patience. She recalled her salary working at the factory. Even though Andrew and Stone insisted on paying her, she worked steadily for her pay.
After his third trip, Patience was wondering where she’d put all the clothes. Her excitement increased with each carton. She thanked him and handed him his gratuity. She considered that a dollar was little enough to escape carrying each of those boxes upstairs on her own.
He tipped his hat with a smile and departed.
“Oh, let’s look inside. I can hardly wait.” She pounced on a carton and untied the string. “You tell me what each is for, all right?”
The first was a pale turquoise ball gown of mousseline de soie and brocade that shimmered when the fabric moved. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
Marianne said, “Try it on. We must know if the fit is correct.”
Patience’s hands shook with the overwhelming idea of all the boxes belonging to her. “I suppose you’re right. Thank you for helping me, Marianne. You’re a generous and kind woman.”
“I’ll be with you, remember. I want you to shine at that conference and back at home.”
After stripping to her underclothes, Patience let Marianne lace her into a corset. “I hate these and haven’t been wearing one to work.”
“The ball gown requires it, dear.”
When Patience could barely breathe, Marianne tied off the laces. “Now step into the gown.”
She did and relied on the other woman to fasten the buttons down the back. “I feel like a fairy princess.” She edged toward the mirror and gazed at herself. “Oh, my. Don’t you think the neckline is too low?”
“Not at all. You’ve a lovely neck and shoulders that display to advantage. I’m sure Andrew will present you with some of the family jewelry to wear. There are quite good pieces included.”
“This is all hard to believe and is more like a dream. I fear I’ll wake tomorrow and find all these boxes have disappeared.”
A rap at the door sent Marianne to open. Henri stood there with a trunk, hat box, suitcase, and valise. “Madame said Miss Eaton will need this Louis Vuitton set to travel.”
Patience reached for her purse, but he shook his head. “You were quite generous, Mademoiselle. Thank you.” He turned and ran down the stairs.
Patience dragged the luggage set into her room. “There’s no room for us. Where on earth will I put everything? Where will I sleep?”
Marianne squeezed aside so there was a place for the Louis Vuitton. “I didn’t think this through. We should have had this delivered to Andrew’s house. How will we get everything there? Perhaps Schmidt will help.”
“Or I could hire Henri. Perhaps Madame Delacroix wouldn’t mind.”
“No, she’s very territorial where he’s concerned. Frankly, I’ve always suspected he was her son and Jacques her husband.” She paused to survey the room. “We need a system. After you try something on, we’ll return it to the box and move it to the floor on that side of the bed.”
“Yes, that will help. After I’ve tried them on, I can stack a couple on top of the armoire and slide a few under the bed.” She sat on the only bare spot on the bed and laughed. “Who knew such bounty would present a problem?”
“We’d better get busy, dear. We’ve a lot to work through. If the dress is not one you’ll need on the trip, let’s slide it under the bed. Those you’ll take, we’ll stack on the other side against the wall. What do you think?”
Patience nodded as she slid on another lovely dress, this one of pink satin and lace with floral appliqués in tiny colored beads on the skirt’s front panel. “Excellent. When will I wear this one?”
“The opening reception, I think. Definitely we’ll take this one on the trip.”
By the time she’d gone through all the boxes, she was exhausted. “How do you do this? I’m sure a day of scullery work is less tiring.”
“You forget I never buy so much at once. Trying on this many clothes would drain anyone. Shall we peek at the hats?”
“You look, Marianne. Please, I’m not being ungrateful, but let me simply watch while you tell me what each is for.”
“Since there are fewer hats than dresses, I’m sure some are meant to be worn with more than one ensemble.” She opened one round container after another. From one, Marianne pulled out a lovely white fur drape.
“But she already included a coat and a light wrap.”
“There are times when a woman needs to look prosperous, and a business conference is that time.”
When Marianne had opened each box, she asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“I believe you and Céline should each be canonized. Or at least have your face on a postage stamp or a treasury bill.”
Marianne laughed. “You are a dear. We’ve worked through dinner and I’m starving. I’ll run along and see you tomorrow to help you pack.”
“That relieves my mind. I’d be overwhelmed if I had to do so alone.”
How fortunate she was to have an unselfish woman like Marianne to guide her. She’d surely have made a muddle without her assistance—if she’d even have been brave enough to see the dressmaker. She would have had to depend solely on Céline’s advice, and that meant she would have spent even more.
>
Poor Andrew. She was sure she’d cost him a fortune already. Guilt gnawed at her. She shouldn’t have accepted the clothes because she had so many doubts about marrying Andrew. Helping win this contract would assuage her guilt considerably.
When they returned from Tacoma, she was determined to find a solution to this dilemma. If Stone were married, she might be able to control her emotions and marry Andrew in good conscience. Both he and Andrew would be happier once Stone was wed to a nice woman. She’d make it her priority—if her heart would allow it. Frowning, she pondered why thinking of a bride for Stone made her stomach hurt.
Chapter Nine
At seven o’clock Thursday morning, Schmidt called for her luggage except the valise she was carrying with her on the train. “I’ll check these and give Mr. Kincaid the tickets, ma’am.”
She was so jittery she could hardly keep still. Deep breathing helped only as long as she practiced the technique. Once she resumed normal breaths, her nerves became snarled knots.
Marianne called for her. “Schmidt stopped by to get my baggage and asked me to call for you and meet Andrew at his home.”
“Odd, that’s backwards. He would come by here on the way to the train.”
“You know how controlling men are. Better to humor him in little things.” She set the rig moving swiftly.
Once again, Patience hung onto her hat in spite of the tie under her chin. She’d learned from Marianne how to anchor a hat more securely, but they were moving too fast to trust a couple of hat pins. In her new dove gray serge traveling suit, she felt very stylish. This one was far more finely made than her green suit she’d worn on her trip from Lawrence.
She’d had no idea how much difference there was between a dress that had been well-made at home and a French dressmaker’s garments. To think she’d been under the impression hers and Mercy’s clothes were fashionable. They were outstanding among factory girls, but she supposed at this meeting she would have looked a country bumpkin
They arrived at the Kincaid home and left the buggy at the front until Schmidt returned. Stone answered the door. Inside, she and Marianne went into the parlor. Stone followed.
Patience: Bride of Washington (American Mail Order Bride 42) Page 9