by Annie Boone
She bit her lip and carefully considered his words. John was ever the wise one. He amazed her constantly. Adele studied him for a minute. The man before her was tall, bald, with gentle eyes beneath a thoughtful brow and extremely well dressed. His haberdashery proved he knew what he was doing with his life, and Adele was grateful he included her in it. He was a good man, and intelligent. As she thought about it, she knew she had to concede.
Studying her pie, Adele nodded. “You should ask him. Zeke, that is, about working in your shop. Maybe he will be interested, maybe he won’t. But it won’t be up to me. As you said, he gets to make his own choices and I trust him as I trust you.” Taking a deep breath, she nodded.
He smiled in relief and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Of course. Yes, I’ll do that. I’d like to talk to him right away. Is that all right with you?”
She glanced out the window. The night sky had descended, and she could hardly see a thing. But the higher she looked, the more stars she found. “It’s late. How about you join us tomorrow evening for supper? Nancy can help me in the kitchen.”
As the words slipped off her tongue, she realized this would be the first meal the four of them would eat together. That in itself made her nervous.
After Zeke had returned, John had stopped by once or twice but always left early and hadn’t had his daughter with him. She had school and often took her time walking home with friends. But the way he nodded meant he agreed. “That’s a splendid idea. We’ll come. Nancy hasn’t had a chance to meet him, after all.”
With their plans set, the two of them finished their pie and discussed other things like her classes and some of his recent sales. Anything they talked about always sounded so interesting to one another. As long as they were together, Adele Miller decided, they could talk about nothing and still she would be happy.
Chapter 15
He saw the way the other man looked at her, and it just made him uncomfortable. Even as they smiled, Zeke could tell that they wanted to reach out and touch hands. The man had already made the motion once or twice, like it was a habit. But then his mother would slip away, dropping her hands in her lap or taking a bite of food.
That was something he had missed in college. While he had so many options to eat for each meal back in the big city, nothing tasted like home. Every day he was still amazed at how delicious it was, and it worried him how much weight he might gain.
“What’s Chicago like?” A young voice piped up, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked away from his mother and Mr. Prater to the girl seated across from him. She had hair that hung in ringlets to her shoulders, a strawberry blonde that grew redder in the candlelight with big green eyes that stared up at him.
He blinked, not sure if he’d heard her right. “What?”
Nancy cocked her head. “Chicago. Isn’t that where you were?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” he nodded. “I was there for college. Just for a few years. It’s a lot different than here. But also the same.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she told him matter-of-factly.
Everyone chuckled and Zeke tried to explain himself. “Well, sometimes the weather was the same. There’s a good spot of wind, and it definitely gets cold. But their snow isn’t as nice as ours. It’s less compact, and it gets dirty quick. And it’s a lot bigger than here, with tall buildings and people everywhere. Some of them are good people, like in Cutter’s Creek, and then some are not. They have the same holidays of course, but some celebrate more of them. And they’re closer to the East, you see, so they act differently. They have more stores. And people from all over the world live there. I even met someone from Italy, can you imagine that?” He grinned at the memory. “His name was Garibaldi. Really nice. And he spoke really differently.”
“We all speak differently,” she pointed out.
The kid was smart, he had to give her that. Laughing, he shook his head. “I mean with an accent. Like when the traders pass through here? Most of them are French, so they have an accent. Well, his Italian accent was a little like the French.”
Nancy considered this. “Why does everyone have an accent but us?”
Her father answered that, patting her on the shoulder. “Well, if you spoke with someone else, I think they might say you have one. An accent comes from the way you talk in a certain location. The French have an accent, the Italians have an accent. We think they have an accent because they don’t talk like us. But imagine going to Italy. Surely they’d say the same thing about us, wouldn’t they?”
That made sense, and the girl nodded. “Different places are different. The people are, too. I see. Does this mean we can go to Italy, Papa?”
Everyone laughed at her impish smile and Zeke realized that for a young girl, she wasn’t as annoying as he had first perceived. She played with her hair too much and whined occasionally, but she was only a child. He dreaded to think of what sort of child he had been at that age, probably disobedient and twice as annoying.
“Maybe when we’re finished with Mrs. Miller’s porch,” her father teased her.
Zeke frowned. “That’s already been fixed. I took care of it the other week, along with the shutters.” He supposed the man hadn’t noticed, not when he kept staring at his mother.
John Prater looked over at him, with an awkward smile. “Oh, my apologies. I’ve been meaning to do it for a few weeks now, and I just haven’t gotten to it. I’m sure your mother truly appreciates that.”
“Yes, she does,” Zeke muttered uncomfortably, realizing he was coming off rude. He couldn’t help it. He’d left his mother behind for several years, and hated himself for it. But what had she done, but start courting a man? This wasn’t anything he had expected to come home to. Although he acknowledged his mother was beautiful and a wonderful person, he couldn’t trust just anyone attempting to court his mother.
As though she sensed the tension, Mrs. Miller stood up and plastered a smile on her face. “Let’s take a break from this, shall we? Nancy, why don’t you help me bring out dessert? I made us a chocolate cake.”
Nancy gasped and they hurried over to the kitchen. Zeke followed them with his eyes, arms crossed. Had his mother given Mr. Prater a look before standing? He was wondering what it was when the man cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“You’re a good man, Zeke Miller. Your mother did a wonderful job in raising you and getting you educated. She really loves having you back here, you know. It’s all she talks about, her talented, good son.”
Shrugging, Zeke leaned back in his seat. “Strange, seeing as she never really mentioned you.” It was a partial lie since she had mentioned him a few times but not that they were courting.
He saw the shadow on the other man’s face and tried to hold himself back from saying anything more. Even now he could imagine what his mother was going to say about his attitude—he was supposed to be better than this.
But the other man took it in stride. He shifted in his jacket and hesitated before forging on. That, Zeke had to admire. “I wanted to bring something else up. As you know, I own the haberdashery here in Cutter’s Creek. Business has continued to grow over the last couple of years as the town has grown, you see. It’s a lot to handle when I’m also trying to raise my daughter.”
Zeke gave a half nod but said nothing.
“It’s in a small building, and I’m hoping to build a second story for more space. I have the funds necessary, but I don’t have the time to watch over the work and do everything necessary to keep the store running smoothly. Now I know that you studied business in college, and I want to offer you a job. At my store, if you’d like. We can work out a fair salary for you and hours that work for both of us. It’s not much now, but I know you were looking for something and well, I thought I’d at least try,” the man offered, his eyes bright.
This took Zeke a minute for everything to sink in. While he wasn’t sure what he had expected, it wasn’t this. Setting his chair back down on all four legs, he stared at the
table. He’d been looking for something, anything, and now there was John Prater offering a job. Of all people.
Absently, he glanced back at the kitchen where Nancy was talking animatedly with his mother. While he’d told her about school and his classes and his friends, he hadn’t told her about the funds. Or the lack of funds. It had been enough when his father was alive, but the city had grown and school became more expensive. He’d been forced to get a job while he was in college to make ends meet. So he wouldn’t have to drop out.
For four years, he had worked in a men’s clothing shop. He’d managed to attend classes and an occasional salon, but he hadn’t gone out to events and parties and dances like everyone else had. It was the only way he had managed to get through school, so he knew he was capable of a job like this. It was the exact job he’d done for four years.
But then June came to mind. A man couldn’t court a woman if he didn’t have any prospects. Was working as a clerk enough for a woman like that? Zeke wasn’t certain. Then he realized there was no way that would be enough. Swallowing, he weighed his options.
“You already talked to my mother about this?” he asked finally, wondering about this. Zeke couldn’t take on a job out of pity, after all.
John hesitated but nodded. “I did, yes. She already knew I need the help, and that I wanted someone I was certain would be trustworthy. Your mother said it’s entirely up to you.”
Inside his ribs, Zeke’s heart pounded. This would end up changing his opinion of the man, he realized, for better or for worse. While it wasn’t ideal, at least it would keep him busy until he made other plans. He sighed and leaned forward, putting out his hand. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter 16
Outside, an owl hooted. Farther away towards the mountains, the wolves could be heard howling at the moon. It was past midnight and most everyone in Cutter’s Creek was fast asleep on that chilly night.
Inside the house, in her room, Mary’s eyes were wide open. They were like this before the animals had started their evening calls, ever since she’d blown out her lantern. Every few minutes, she would glance at her sister, the younger girl who slept soundly on the other side of the room. June was fast asleep, quietly lying on her back as her chest moved up and down gently.
It was harder to tell than ever what was on June’s mind lately. From books to church, and now Zeke Miller. Already the girl appeared to know more about him than Mary liked, and that was frustrating her to no end. What could the two of them possibly have in common, or have reason to talk with one another?
Nearly gasping, she realized her sister could possibly be considering Zeke to be her beau. But that was nonsense, for Mary had already claimed him! Though nothing was official, her own intentions were clear. Frowning, she glared at her sister in the dim light as though it might help. At least it helped her feelings for a moment, giving her a mean stare. The fact that June was oblivious made no difference.
Granted, neither of them had a beau at the moment, but Mary was eldest. It was only proper, she told herself, that she married first. She should be the one to choose her beau first. Once she settled down, then she could focus her efforts on finding someone for June.
Zeke Miller would do nicely as a husband, and Mary assured herself that she had set her cap for him first. He was kind enough, smart enough, and fairly handsome. Why, she could hardly do better in all of Cutter’s Creek. Even if he didn’t have a job. And most importantly, he could certainly do no better than her.
The hard part, she realized, was finding a way to convince him their match was in his best interest as well. Mary sighed and finally closed her eyes. She needed a plan, and she could do things like that in her sleep.
She could hardly imagine her luck, however, when he appeared during their trip into town the following day. Nudging her sister, Mary straightened and gave Zeke Miller her most winning smile. “What a surprise seeing you up and about, Mr. Miller. Or may I call you Zeke?”
He blinked, offering a halting smile. “I suppose that’s fine, Miss Pershing. How do you do? And Miss Pershing, how do you do?” he asked them both politely, holding his hat pressed against his chest. This reminded her that he needed a haircut, but she wasn’t certain how to involve that detail in the conversation.
“I suppose everything is well,” Mary interrupted her sister without knowing what she had been saying. Probably something about a book, since that’s about all that went through the silly girl’s head. “Though I’m quite ready for spring sunshine to be more consistent. Spring is but a short window of time and I want to enjoy every moment.”
Her sister gave her a look, but she ignored this as she waited for Zeke to reply. He stood there as she batted her eyelashes his way. Most of the time, however, the young man was staring at his hat. How could that be so interesting? “Yes,” he said at last. “And I hear it was a difficult autumn and winter for the farmers? Several local ranchers almost lost their herds?”
June spoke up. “That’s right, and I think the farmers are still having trouble. I was speaking with Leroy the other day, and he mentioned how almost half of their acres are still frozen. Which is just dreadful, I can’t imagine how it is to lose so much. It’ll be a difficult planting season for them.”
Looking for something to say, Mary nodded furiously. “Yes, just terrible. Especially since I’ll miss their sweet peas. They really did grow them the best,” she added to Zeke and coyly touched his elbow. “Why, do you remember them? I know after school I would run by their fields and take a handful for my snack home. Just delightful, those were.”
“Oh, did you now? It’s been a while, and sweet peas aren’t that plentiful in Chicago.”
She frowned at the word, still wanting to believe the idea that he had been in Boston. Boston was close to the sea, after all, a vast, sophisticated world that she could only dream about. The city was full of cosmopolitan elites and the newest everything. But Chicago? If June was right, and that’s where he’d been… well, she supposed it would be exotic enough since it wasn’t Cutter’s Creek. “Ah.” Mary halted, unsure of how to continue.
It was her sister who filled the void. “Do you miss Chicago much? I’m sure it’s not home, but you lived there for a number of years. I can’t imagine just moving from place to place like that.”
Zeke brightened. “It is rather strange, isn’t it? But I did like it, honestly. It gets cold and it gets hot, but it’s a fantastic place. Lots of people, and they give dances and hold salons to discuss science, philosophy, and world affairs. All the latest ideas. Besides, there are more than enough churches to attend and so much food. I mean, I thought I’d eaten good bread out here, but they do some fantastic things to it in Chicago.”
June opened her mouth before Mary could. “What, even better than your mother’s homemade bread? I find that rather challenging, and I’m not sure she’d like to hear you say it.”
“Oh, don’t you tell her,” he teased. Their silly grins made Mary furious and she gritted her teeth, glancing at her sister. She had to make this stop. Slowly, she inched her way in closer to him and got between them.
“Tell us more about Chicago,” she implored with a pout few men could resist. Ducking in her chin, she fluttered her eyelashes again. “Tell me everything.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure what there is to tell more about.”
Smiling, she touched his arm. “Well, you said they have different dances, you know. What sort of dances? Anything I might be good at? I’m an awfully good dancer, everyone says so.”
“Ah. Well, they do quadrilles. That’s different, I suppose. Do you do those here? I don’t remember what dances we did except the more country dances.” Zeke seemed uncomfortable and his hat was growing wrinkled as he fiddled with the brim ceaselessly.
He might be shy, but no one could resist her flirting. “That sounds lovely, absolutely lovely. The quadrille,” she said it carefully, in case he wanted to watch her say it. “Why, it makes me want to dance just saying the name.”
>
“You shouldn’t,” June mumbled, but Mary ignored her.
“Will you show it to me?” she pleaded, grabbing on an arm now. Just a firm enough hold, of course, to let him know she was there and that she was close. The older Pershing girl beamed as Zeke Miller blushed. “You can wait until the dance, of course. The spring dance. It’s coming up soon, you know, just a few weeks away,” she cozied up closer. “Why, you’re so strong! I thought you were a scholar.”
Gently, he stepped back, and she allowed it. Only this once, of course—since he was shy. “I used to do track and field, that’s all. I can try to show you—both of you—the quadrille at the dance, maybe. We’ll see. I wouldn’t know where to get the right music, though. We must wait and see. But I didn’t hear about this dance. There’s something coming up?”
Clearing her throat, June glanced at her sister and then smiled at Zeke kindly. “There is. In precisely six weeks, the annual Spring Dance will be the talk of the town. We host it right outside the little red chapel. Everyone comes for the festivities. It’s quite grand. There will be food and games and, of course, dancing. We sometimes do a maypole, too.” She smiled and pulled a curl away from her face. “But I’m sure you’ve had enough of that in Chicago.”
“In Chicago,” Zeke nodded slowly. “But not enough of it here in Cutter’s Creek. Six weeks, though, that’s a good ways away.”
Mary hurriedly shook her head, trying to hint at it. “Oh, not really. I mean, most everyone has already found their partners. You see, nearly everyone tries to bring someone. You know, a boy brings a girl. Why, half the town already has plans.”
He looked at them in surprise. “Oh? And what about the two of you ladies?”
“Not yet,” she said before June could open her mouth. “Granted, I am trying to save myself for someone special.”
The young man swallowed. “Anyone in… particular?”