Love by Design

by Christine Johnson

  Beattie and Ruth grinned at each other.

  “Not because he likes me,” Jen insisted. “Because he thinks I can convince people to invest.” The words made sense, but her flaming cheeks betrayed her true feelings.

  She did care what Dan Wagner thought of her. She hoped he would find her passably pretty and charmingly witty—two qualities she had never mastered but he apparently expected in his female friends. That’s what twisted her stomach into knots. That’s what prevented her from eating a bite. She had to transform herself. Her sisters were doing their best to make her pretty. Jen had to find both charm and wit buried somewhere inside her.

  Minnie darted in the room, hair iron in hand. “He’s here already.”

  Jen pressed a hand to her mouth. Time had just run out.

  * * *

  Dan knew Jen had four sisters, but he hadn’t expected to find all of them and their families gathered in the small house. He sauntered up the shoveled walk in the borrowed tuxedo and overcoat. Some relation of Simmons, being the correct size, had donated to the cause. The jacket was a little tight across the shoulders, but it buttoned and the trousers were long enough. He couldn’t complain.

  Two dark-haired gentlemen greeted him from the front porch. One was quite tall and completely at ease.

  A smile came readily to his lips as he extended his hand. “You must be Dan Wagner.”

  “I am.”

  “Sam Rothenburg.” The man’s handshake was firm, confident. “I’m Ruth’s husband.”

  “Rothenburg. I’ve heard that name before. Don’t tell me.” Dan thought a second, but the sign on the back of the building visible above the houses gave him the clue he needed. “Hutton’s Department Stores.”

  “The same, though I’m no longer with them.” Rather than explain why he’d left the family business, Sam introduced the shorter man. “This is Blake Kensington. He’s married to Jen’s oldest sister and manages the mercantile.”

  Dan knew the Kensington name well. Blake echoed some of the mayor’s features, though he was considerably thinner and more subdued. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Kensington’s handshake wasn’t quite as firm. “Likewise. Ready to run the gauntlet?”

  “Gauntlet?” Dan wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  “Four sisters and their mother.” Rothenburg laughed. “It’s a gauntlet, all right.”

  Dan had always managed to avoid meeting families. By the time a lady got serious enough to invite him to meet her parents, he had moved on. This wasn’t at all like that. “I only asked Jen to join me since she’s working on the expedition.”

  Rothenburg grinned. “That might be your reason, but those women don’t see it like that at all.”

  Dan’s stomach churned. “Jen does. She’s perfectly aware that this is a business matter. Jack expects to meet potential subscribers and wants everyone there to explain the project and answer questions.” He didn’t mention that Jen hadn’t been included in that plan.

  Kensington’s lips curved into a wry smile. “I’m sure my father is involved in that.”

  “I think Jack Hunter did mention him,” Dan confirmed.

  “Of course he is,” Blake said. “Daddy loves to throw money at other people.”

  Dan didn’t know what was going on, but the mood had definitely gotten chillier. “Well, I suppose I might as well get it over.” He eyed the front door, its yellowed ivory paint peeled off near the bottom. The Fox family clearly was not well-off. He grabbed the old iron door knocker. It jiggled and tilted. One screw was missing.

  Rothenburg stopped him. “No need to knock. They’re expecting you, but do keep one thing in mind. Jen’s father passed away last October. Mrs. Fox is still in mourning. They all are in their own way.”

  Dan recalled Jen’s wistful expression when she gave her reason for going to nursing school. She seemed to think a nurse might have saved her father’s life. That sobered him. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m more concerned about Jen’s sisters.”

  Rothenburg clapped him on the back. “You can do it.”

  Dan wasn’t so sure. He suspected that pulling out of a stall ten feet from the ground would be easier. Nevertheless, he’d invited Jen. He had to go through with this. He straightened his shoulders, put on the smile that charmed ladies of all ages and cracked open the door.

  A woman squealed. That was followed by the clattering of footsteps and the cry, “He’s here!”

  Then silence. No one approached.

  Rothenburg chuckled. “They probably figure since we’re out here that we’ll show you in.”

  “They’re probably not ready,” Kensington suggested. “Knowing Beattie, she’s making her sister change this and that until everything is just right.”

  Dan was skeptical. “Jen doesn’t seem like the type to primp.”

  “You haven’t seen the four of them together,” Rothenburg said. “There’ll be plenty of primping. And chatter.”

  Kensington nodded. “Holiday dinners are crazy. Beattie supervises the decorations and what everyone is going to wear. Ruth’s in charge of the kitchen. Minnie watches the little ones. They all talk nonstop.”

  “And Jen?” Dan was having difficulty seeing how the tomboy fit into this picture.

  Both men shrugged.

  Rothenburg spoke. “Since I met her, I noticed she spent a lot of time with her father, dreaming up wild adventures. Blake, is that how she was before I arrived?”

  “When she wasn’t sticking her nose into her sisters’ plans,” Kensington said.

  Dan laughed. “That sounds like Jen.” He glanced at the door. “Maybe I should stay out here.”

  “Not a chance,” Rothenburg said with a laugh. “You’ll have to face the gauntlet like the rest of us.”

  The door opened, and a stately matron with silvered hair and the black dress of a widow surveyed Dan from shined shoes to brushed felt fedora.

  “Mr. Wagner? Please do come in.”

  Her smile was kindly, and the broad sweep of her hand welcomed him.

  Dan smiled back. “Mrs. Fox? It’s a pleasure to meet you. He handed her the lavender sachet he’d purchased at the drugstore.

  She looked startled. “For me?” A delicate rose colored her fair skin. “Oh, my.” She backed from the door, clearly flustered. “No one has ever been so thoughtful.” She lifted the cover of the small box and sniffed the sachet. “Ah, lavender is my favorite. God bless you for your thoughtfulness.”

  “Good job,” Rothenburg whispered along with a nudge of his elbow. “Wish I’d thought to do that.”

  Dan stepped into the small house. Despite fading wallpaper that had begun to curl and pull away at the edges, it exuded a warmth and comfort reminiscent of his parent’s ranch house. Four embroidered samplers, from highly skilled to poorly executed, hung on the wall. The foyer opened immediately into a living room. A doorway on the opposite side of the room led to other rooms.

  “Genevieve will be down shortly,” Mrs. Fox said, still cradling the gift.

  Genevieve? She must mean Jen, but Dan would never have guessed that was Jen’s full name.

  A pint-size shriek split the air, followed by a yelp. Then two children flew through the opposite doorway to plead their case before Mrs. Fox.

  “Grandma, Grandma,” the girl of perhaps five years old cried. “Brannie hit me.”

  “She hit me first,” the younger boy countered.

  “Branford, Tillie,” Kensington barked. “I expect you to behave. That means no running indoors and no hitting each other. Understand?”

  The children’s exuberance vanished. “Yes, Daddy.”

  They slunk out of the room.

  The sound of footsteps clattering down a staircase was followed by the appearance of the petite young woman who had visited
Jen at the flight school last week. “Sorry, Mother. I meant to get down here sooner.” She beamed at Dan. “Jen will be down in a moment. Wait until you see her.” After a final grin, she disappeared into the room with the children.

  Kensington checked his wristwatch. “They’re taking a long time. We’ll be late.”

  Dan eyed the two men. Neither wore evening attire. “Are you attending?”

  “The ball?” Kensington said. “Not a chance. I wouldn’t want to be around that crowd. We’re all going to the picture show.”

  That was disappointing. Dan would especially have enjoyed Sam Rothenburg’s company. The man had an easy manner that made him seem like an old chum even though they’d just met.

  At the moment, Rothenburg’s eyes widened with surprise. He then nodded his head toward the other side of the living room. Dan turned to see Jen framed in the doorway. Her willowy figure was highlighted by a shimmering dark red gown that fit her to perfection. Though the dress didn’t have any of the usual ornamentation found on evening gowns—beading, lace or bows—its simplicity brought out Jen’s exquisite beauty. Her unruly hair had been tamed into a sleek style emulating the popular bob, and the understated headdress completed the outfit.

  Dan had seen the most stunning gowns on the most beautiful women, but none of them compared to this. Gradually, he became aware that the room was silent.

  “Exquisite,” he breathed.

  Then she smiled, and every assertion that he’d only invited her to the ball for business purposes went flying out the window.

  * * *

  Until that instant, Jen had hated every moment of the preparations. In her opinion, she needed ten minutes at most to dress and brush her hair. Her sisters had taken dressing to a new level. Between their fussing, her nerves and the lack of food, she felt shaky. When they finally declared her ready, she hurried downstairs.

  Then she saw Dan.

  My, oh, my, was he handsome dressed in an elegant black tuxedo and stylish overcoat. His wavy auburn hair had been trimmed and combed, but it was his eyes that captivated her. At first twinkling blue, their color deepened when he saw her. That overly confident smile vanished in what could only be described as shock.

  Was her chemise showing? Ruth had carefully pinned the straps to the shoulder seam of the gown so they wouldn’t inch into view. Maybe the pin had come undone.

  Then his jaw returned to its normal position, and he declared her exquisite.

  Not merely pretty or even beautiful, but exquisite!

  She about fainted from shock. She didn’t dare leave the support of the doorway, even though Beattie, hidden in the kitchen, kept whispering for her to move. All she could manage was a shaky return smile.

  Then he crossed the living room until he stood before her. He reached into the pocket of his coat and removed a small box.

  A box that was the exact size of a ring box.

  Her heart raced. She forgot to breathe.

  “I’m honored you agreed to join me tonight.” He held out the box. “This is for you.”

  Oh my, she was going to faint. Right there in front of her sisters and Daring Dan Wagner. Newspapers across the country would display a photograph of her prone form sprawled on the hardwood floor along with the caption: Floored by Proposal.

  “Take it,” Beattie whispered loud enough for the next-door neighbors to hear.

  Dan pressed his lips together in a futile attempt to hide his mirth. He was laughing at her. That brought Jen back to her senses.

  She snatched the box from his hands. “Thank you.”

  Ruth and Beattie appeared over either shoulder.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Beattie asked.

  “Yes, we’re dying to know what’s inside,” Ruth seconded.

  Even Minnie got in on the disaster. “Do open it. We’re all waiting.”

  Sure enough, she had gathered the children in the parlor doorway.

  “Now, girls.” Mother swooped in and cleared Jen’s sisters away. “Give your sister a little privacy. Sam? Blake? I believe you need to take your lovely brides to the show. I’ll take the children, Minnie. Peter is expecting you for supper.”

  In short order, Jen found herself alone with Dan in the living room. Well, as alone as a girl could be with her mother and three little children within hearing distance.

  “You can open it now, if you wish,” Dan said. “It’s just a small token of appreciation. I planned to get you flowers, too, but I couldn’t find a florist in town.”

  “There isn’t one.”

  “That would explain it.”

  Jen fingered the small box. A small token definitely did not mean a ring, but the box still looked as if it had come from a jeweler. After all her fuss about not wearing jewelry tonight, she laughed at the irony that he’d brought her a piece of jewelry.

  “What’s funny?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Something that happened earlier.”

  She lifted the lid off the box. Nestled on a bed of white cotton was a small medallion. She held it to the light.

  “It’s to commemorate your role in the polar expedition,” he said.

  She lifted the silvery medallion from the box. It had the year and the words Polar Expedition Crewmember engraved around the edge. In the center was what looked like an iceberg with a tiny flag on top.

  “It’s wonderful,” she breathed.

  “You can use it as a pendant.”

  “How thoughtful.” And she meant it. He had gone to a great deal of trouble to have this made just for her. For some ridiculous reason, tears dampened her eyes. She blinked and swallowed against her constricting throat. “Thank you.”

  “Your contributions are valuable. I mean that. Without your help, we wouldn’t stand a chance.” He took a breath and shifted his weight, as if nervous.

  Daring Dan was anxious around her? That had to be a first. He could win the attention of any woman in the country, maybe the world, yet he was acting like a schoolboy with her. The idea made her both light-headed and overjoyed at the same time.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He looked into her eyes then, and she nearly fell apart. Compassion, understanding, every good thing on earth could be found in those depths. His smile caught and drew her in.

  “Even if you do leave for nursing school,” he said, “your work won’t be forgotten.”

  Nursing school. She had forgotten about that. His reminder catapulted her from the heights of joy to the depths of misery. Finally her work had been recognized. Finally a man respected her. Finally she had found someone fascinating enough to consider spending a great deal of time with. At that very moment when the impossible came together, she had to leave.

  “We should go,” he said gently.

  Jen stared at the dark window etched with frost. Years ago, Daddy had promised to walk her down the aisle. He never would. She had promised to write his name in the history of aviation. She never would. Why did everything happen too late?

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite the incredibly romantic beginning to the evening, the ball ended up just as businesslike as promised. Jen spent the night describing expedition preparations to potential investors. The only highlight was when Dan told those same investors that her assistance had been invaluable. Even with Daring Dan’s endorsement, the men hadn’t been impressed. They preferred Dan’s tales of daring feats and near brushes with disaster to her descriptions of potential commercial and philanthropic applications after the expedition. Even Jack had to take a backseat to the famous aviator. He didn’t seem to mind, though, and when the men rejoined their wives for the late supper, he bowed out, saying he wanted to return home to Darcy, who was feeling poorly. Though Darcy’s mother was sitting with her, Jack didn’t want to keep the elderly woman out too
late. They all knew that was just an excuse.

  “He sure is devoted to his wife,” Dan had commented.

  Jen couldn’t describe the depth of love Jack and Darcy shared. It reminded her of Mother and Daddy. Or Ruth and Sam. They could communicate without words, considered each other first and clung to the tenderness of their first days together. It was the standard she had held up to any relationship.

  She had sighed. “That is true love.”

  His eyebrows had lifted until he’d considered her statement. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You don’t know anyone that in love?”

  “My ma and pa, but in a different way. They accept that life is hard and work comes first.”

  Jen was still thinking about that statement when Dan helped her out of the hired car and walked her to the front porch. She leaned on his arm up the slippery steps. The dusting of new-fallen snow crunched underfoot. His arm was strong but carried no warmth or tenderness. From his description, his parents saw life as a shared struggle rather than the shared joy she desired. Was that the way Dan saw marriage, too? If so, then she didn’t know how they could ever fall in love.

  He released her before the door, close enough to shake hands but not so close that Jen would wonder if he intended to kiss her.

  “Thank you for joining me.” The light from the front window caught both his smile and the cloud of his breath in the still, frigid air. “It made the night more bearable.”

  More bearable, as if it had been a great hardship to spin tales of daring feats to the rapt attention of wealthy men. As if her presence only made it a little better. Not that he enjoyed being with her and wished they could have had some time alone. Not that he wanted to be with her again. No, she had just made a dreadful evening slightly more tolerable.

  Jen mustered a smile. A woman hoping to attract him might gush about how much she had enjoyed the evening. That woman would leave the door open for an invitation. Jen was not that woman. “Good night, Wagner.”