“Seth, I need you over here, too,” Wally called across the store.
Frankie watched Seth hurry as he refolded a shirt on display that a customer had disarranged. He picked up a box of shoes someone had left on the floor and deposited it on a shelf as he came forward.
With Seth beside her, Frankie felt her heart beginning the strange galloping it seemed to do in his presence. What was wrong with her? She shook away her thoughts and listened to her uncle.
“When they have their purchases, if they want to charge, you find their name in the ledger and look at their account. Then–”
Frankie stared at the book Uncle Wally had opened. Pencil scribbles ran on top of the lines, with other scribbles out to the side.
She watched his finger as he further explained. “Beside their last purchase, you add the number of what they charge today. Do you understand?”
Frankie blinked and wiped her sweating palms on her trousers. She nodded. She understood, all right. She understood that there were some truths she was about to face up to.
“And if there’s a little blue mark, it means they can’t charge anything else until they’ve made a payment. Are you listening, Frances?”
Frances? The name jolted her from the panic racing through her limbs. “Y-yes, sir. Yes, I’m listening.”
Wally Stoner paused for a second, his eyes on her face. Frankie squirmed under his stern expression. “Seth here,” he indicated, “knows the system already. He’ll be right beside you to help if you need it.” He set the book on the counter and turned. “I’ll be down at the barber shop if you need me.” With that, he turned and left through the front door.
Thankful he was leaving, she nodded and chewed the inside of her cheek. Small beads of perspiration broke over her lips. Maybe she could pretend to feel ill, or. . .faint. But that would be lying. Please, please God. Help me!
What if Uncle Wally fired her when he knew the truth? What would happen to her and Charlie? How would they get back to Jasper Creek? The thought of being thrown out, hungry and penniless, of Charlie begging people for food managed stilled her voice. There must be–
“Frankie, Mrs. Miller is ready for you to check her items,” Seth interrupted her thoughts.
Frankie stared at the red yarn and packet of needles the woman had put on the counter. A tiny throb began in her head, like a hammer beating on an empty wooden barrel.
“Will that be cash or charge, ma’am?” That part was easy. It was what Seth always asked the customers when they paid.
“Cash,” Mrs. Miller smiled, indicating the coins in her hand.
Seth leaned in beside Frankie and pulled a large sheet of paper from behind the register. The warmth from his arm sent her heart racing ahead. She barely noticed as his finger pointed to lines on the paper. “Right here are the prices of the items. You just punch the numbers to match on the cash register. See?”
He demonstrated by picking up the yarn and pointing to the price. Frankie watched as he punched it on the cash register. It was easy. Or would be, if–
“Now you do the needles. They’ll be on the Sundries side, not the grocery,” he added.
Frankie stared at the paper in front of her. Needles. N. She had to find the words beginning with ‘N’. She pressed her finger to the heavy paper and slowly made her way to the ‘N’ words. She was close. N-e-e-
“Frankie? Look it’s right here,” he pointed. “That’ll be fifty cents, ma’am.”
Mrs. Miller held her hand toward Frankie.
Cold metal touched Frankie’s palm as the coins dropped from Mrs. Miller’s hand. She stared at the two pieces. What did they mean? What was she supposed to do?
“Give her change, Frankie.”
Seth’s voice echoed and vibrated as she stared at the round pieces of metal. The throbbing in her head turned into the kind of pounding the blacksmith made in his shop. She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.
“Are you all right, dear?” the customer asked.
Fingers curled around her elbow. Seth pulled her aside and pried the coins from her hand. “She’s just not feeling well today, Mrs. Miller. I’ll be getting this for you.”
***
Seth waited on two more customers before the store emptied. He nodded to Mrs. Hamilton, busy in the clothing section, arranging a new shipment of hats.
He looked around the store. No Frankie. Probably in the storeroom. What was he going to tell Wally Stoner? He was sure the man would ask how she had done. And why hadn’t Frankie told him she didn’t know how to handle the money? That was basic to working in a store.
But she was a hard worker, he had to give her that. Maybe Wally could work something out for her.
Chapter 6
Frankie fled to the storeroom, shutting the door behind her. Throwing herself across a tub of apples, she began to sob. No more pretending that her life was going to work out. That she and Charlie would ever have a home of their own. If she wasn’t able to wait on customers in the store, Uncle Wally would turn them out of his house.
Misery sprouted in her stomach and bloomed up her throat. It had been a mistake to come to Texas. They should have stayed at home. Only the brief thought of Latimer Wilson made her doubt her wisdom. Maybe coming to Chance wasn’t all bad. She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve.
Footsteps echoed outside the door. Seth, no doubt. She pushed herself up to a standing position and leaned over the tub of apples, pretending to sort them. What am I gonna do, Lord? He’ll tell uncle for sure. Then what will happen to me and Charlie?
“Frankie?”
She jumped at the sound of his deep voice. Hurriedly, she wiped away more tears that poured down her cheeks. She sniffed loudly. “What is it?”
He paused. “Why didn’t you tell your uncle that you don’t know how to make change? Or read very well?”
Hearing him state it aloud like that, the words hanging in the air, made her cringe. It almost hurt more that Seth knew than that Uncle Wally was going to know. Her eyes still on the apples, she answered. “I don’t know. He. . .he just said we could come here if we could work. I don’t guess the letter said anything about reading. . .or money. I. . .I didn’t know.”
“Turn around and look at me.”
His voice was stern and commanding. She took a deep breath and forced herself to turn in his direction. But she couldn’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation was too deep, too painful.
He folded his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t understand, Frankie. What did you do for money before you came here?”
She shrugged and stared at the toes of her worn out boots. “I haven’t ever had any.”
His voice was sharp, impatient. “Frankie, you can’t buy things without money.”
She forced herself to meet him eye to eye. “Sure you can. I always traded pelts at Jude Ivy’s little store a few miles up the creek. I got whatever I needed from trading the animals I trapped. We ate some and I skinned some and tanned them or sold them as fur. It was doing that or me and Charlie wouldn’t have had much to eat.” She shrugged. “Jude never gave me money for anything.”
***
Seth swallowed hard. How many years had this girl had to support her little brother? He and Mark had their older brother Jared and their Aunt Della to care for them after their parent’s had died. But Frankie, barely more than a teenager, had been on her own for more than a year. She was just a kid, yet she’d shouldered the responsibility of an adult with no one to help.
His temper softened. “I’m sorry. I. . .didn’t know how things were for you back in. . .Jasper Creek? I think that’s what Charlie called the place you lived.”
She nodded and looked away.
The pain on her face ripped through him. He shouldn’t have talked to her so harshly. What was the matter with him? He cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell him?”
She shook her head. “Not if I can help it. Me and Charlie. . .we don’t have no place else to go.”
“An
y place.”
She looked up at him, confusion swimming in her eyes. “That’s what I said.”
A smile twitched at his lips. “Well, I guess you did.” He took a deep breath. “And don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to read better. And how to count the money.”
Her eyes widened. “You will?” She hesitated. “I already know my letters and how to read a little. It just takes me a while to figure out how they go together.”
He nodded. “You’ll have to study whenever you have the chance. Else it won’t be long before Wally notices something. I can’t keep covering for you and you can‘t hide the truth forever.”
She wiped her eyes and gave him a half smile. “I’ll work harder than anyone ever has.”
He shook his head and laughed. She was one determined girl. “I’m sure you’ll learn fast, Frankie McGregor.”
A shadow flashed across her face. “But you gotta promise not to tell nobody.”
“Anybody. And yes, I promise.”
“You can’t tell Uncle,” she said. “If he knows. . .I mean. . .I’ll tell him. Just give me time.”
What was he promising? He didn’t know how to teach anyone anything. Especially a hardheaded kid like Frankie. She was stubborn as a two-headed mule and had a mouth as sassy as a Blue Jay in the spring. How was he always getting himself into impossible situations? Jared was always telling him to think before he committed.
He studied her face. “But I’m not sure I understand why you can’t be honest with Wally right now. Surely he wouldn’t turn you out. He’s your family.” What kind of man would put a girl and a little boy out on the streets?
She shrugged and turned back to sorting the fruit. “He said if I worked for him, he’d pay me, plus room and board for the two of us. And he’ll let Charlie go to school. I figure it’s the best we can do, right now. ’Til something better comes along. After I save enough money, we can get out on our own. . .have our own place.”
That wasn’t likely. Something better didn’t come along too often for the likes of people like them. He sighed. Help me do my best for her, Lord.
Chapter 7
The clock from the store was chiming three when Frankie opened her eyes. A slight rustling caught her ear and she realized that Mrs. Hamilton was walking quietly across the room. Must have been to the house out back, Frankie reasoned, snuggling deeper into the straw-filled mattress.
She listened as the woman seemed to be rummaging through some papers next to the bed. It was an odd time to be doing anything but sleeping. The bit of moonlight that flowed into the room was barely enough to see the forms of the bed and the little table next to it. Frankie’s heavy eyelids blinked again and she yawned. Whatever the woman was doing was none of her business.
A few moments later Mrs. Hamilton was in bed, followed closely by soft snores.
Frankie sighed. How did anyone fall asleep so fast? Now that she was awake, getting back to sleep would be hard. She had been dreaming.
She and Mama and Charlie walking hand-in-hand through Custer’s Meadow. The wildflowers were blooming and Mama had picked them and made a flower bracelet for Frankie to wear on her arm.
Hand over her mouth, she stifled a sob. It had been so long since Mama had been well and could help her take care of Charlie. It had been good times for them then. Why had God let it all change?
She blinked back tears. Time to count blessings. It was the only way to bury sad feelings and go back to sleep. But first, she could take a moment to go check on Charlie. Sometimes he seemed the only blessing left in her life.
***
Frankie paused to stare at the pink hat in the milliner’s window. Ada Wood’s front window was just too interesting to pass by. Only a peek and she would cross the street and be at work in the mercantile.
In the corner, she spotted a green straw hat with pretty daisies. It would be perfect with the sage dyed fabric in Uncle Wally’s store. And if she watched her pennies she could manage to buy some of the fabric next month.
“Why look, Penny, it’s. . . .what is your name? Billie, or was it Sammie?”
Penny snickered, “Oh, Violet, you really shouldn’t. . .”
Frankie’s heart dropped. The reflection in the window told her all she needed to know. Maybe walking Charlie to school this morning hadn’t been such a good idea. She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her lips as she turned around. “It’s Frankie. Short for Frances,” she added.
Violet nodded, the blue straw hat on her head bobbing slightly. “That’s right. I knew it was a boy’s name. So how do you like working with Seth?”
Boy’s name? Frankie chewed the inside of her cheek. She should be ashamed of herself. She didn’t even like the way the girl pronounced his name. “I guess I like it fine. He’s a good worker.”
Violet cast a glance in the direction of the mercantile. Looking back at Frankie, she lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I don’t suppose he’s mentioned me, has he?” Her eyes were wide as she anticipated the answer.
Frankie stared at her. The question only confirmed her suspicion that Violet had attracted Seth’s attention away from the road two weeks ago. She shrugged and turned back to the window. “Not that I can remember. He seems mostly interested in ranching and horses when he talks with the customers.”
Violet straightened and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well of course he likes those things. He wouldn‘t mention to the cust–” she stopped, a suspicious expression crossing her face.
Frankie couldn’t help but notice the difference in Violet’s speaking. Not at all the soft, southern Georgia tone she’d used before. Right now, she sounded like pure Texas. And a very irritated Texan, at that.
Frankie ignored the streak of meanness that rose up inside. But sometimes she couldn’t help but let it out. She turned and smiled at the girl. “I could ask him about you, if you’d like.” She did her best to look innocent.
Pink crept into Violet’s cheeks with this suggestion. “Oh, no. Please don’t mention to him that I said anything.”
Frankie shrugged and smiled. “Whatever you say. But it wouldn’t be any trouble.”
The other girl’s eyes narrowed in response. “Just forget I asked. C’mon, Penny. Let’s let Sammie get back to her work.”
Frankie bit her lip to keep from laughing. Violet surely meant to hurt her feelings, but her embarrassed expression had spoiled the sting she was intending.
But what about Seth? Frankie sobered as she realized how much Violet probably liked Seth. And he Violet. She had seen him watching out the new store window whenever the girl walked past.
She sighed and reached for the door handle. Life just didn’t seem fair, some days.
***
Seth’s breath was warm on her neck as he leaned in beside her. A shiver rippled down her back. Being this close to him sent her emotions flying. The heat from his arm seared through her sleeve as he reached for the piece of chalk in her hand, his warm fingers touching hers.
“Now try again. Remember how we put out the pencils a couple of days ago so you could practice adding and taking away? Well this is sort of the same thing. You just have to see it in your head.”
Frankie ignored the frantic beating of her heart and attempted to concentrate on the numbers. But with him so near, the digits on the slate kept blurring together. She steeled herself from her feelings and opened her eyes wider. “This is twenty-five, right?”
“Yes. Now add the two together the way I showed you. You can do it.”
Learning how to add and subtract was harder than she had thought. He kept telling her she was ‘catching on’, but it seemed terribly slow. After three weeks, she ought to have learned everything. Not that she would voice that thought again. His mirth had been almost too much to bear.
She jumped at the excitement in his voice, sending the piece of chalk streaking across the slate.
“Hey, that’s right! I told you it would all come together. You deserve a treat for doing so well!” He grinned,
pulling a penny from his pocket and taking a piece of candy from the jar near the register.
She smiled and nodded. His praise was better than any sweet she could imagine. “I think I really am starting to understand.”
He laughed. “You just keep practicing with numbers on this slate. Go around the store and find some items, come back and find the cost and add them up. OK? And also keep studying that little reading book I loaned you. You’ll be figuring charges in the store and reading better in no time. I’m already amazed at how far you’ve come, Frankie.”
Frankie turned away so he couldn’t see the pink in her cheeks. “Guess I’d better go straighten the fabric section.”
“Sure,” he nodded. “And don’t forget what I talked to you about earlier. I’d like any tips you can give me.”
She nodded and swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat. He was talking about Violet. About marrying Violet. Well, she wouldn’t think about it. Not today.
Chapter 8
“Well, well, good morning!”
The bell over the front door jangled and Frankie, busy re-wrapping a bolt of yellow calico, paused to look at the two women and a small child that entered the store. The older woman, grey hair piled beneath an old straw hat, was holding tight to the little boy’s hand. She greeted Seth with a pat on the arm. Merry blue eyes and a soft smile peered out from under the wide brim.
The woman walking beside her was years younger. Her sunny blond hair hung in a long braid down her back, neatly tied with a leather strip. The basket she carried in front of her emphasized the fact that she would soon have an infant to care for.
Frankie bit her lip and quickly looked away. She tucked the end of the fabric into the bolt and stacked it on top of the others. If there was one thing she didn’t want to think about anymore, it was women having babies. If not for that last baby, Mamma would still be alive. No matter what Doc Stevens said, she was sure that if she’d just done something more to help, things would have turned out different. But she would never know.
Chance Creek Brides (Volumes 1-3 & the Stagecoach Bride) Page 13