Twice Blessed

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Twice Blessed Page 8

by Sharon Gillenwater


  Disappointment jabbed Camille. Don’t be silly, she silently chided. You have no claim on him. But she couldn’t quell an unexpectedly strong spurt of jealousy.

  “I’m sure she’s delighted,” said Bonnie.

  Camille glanced at her, hiding her irritation. Of course she is. What woman wouldn’t be?

  “I always enjoy her company, too.” Ty scanned the crowded church yard. His gaze came back to Camille. “I’d like for you to meet her. I think you two will hit it off.”

  She certainly felt like hitting something. Smacking him over the head with her parasol came to mind. Except her parasol was in her trunk. And it wouldn’t be ladylike.

  Sometimes acting like a lady was such a bother.

  “There she is talking to Cade and Jessie.”

  Since Cade was taller than most of the men present, it only took a few seconds to find him and Jessie—and the petite, gray-haired lady smiling affectionately at him.

  Bonnie giggled. She knew Camille too well. “Just wave when you’re ready to leave. I’ll visit with Annie.”

  “All right.”

  His expression puzzled, Ty watched Bonnie walk away. “Did I miss something?”

  “Nothing much.” Thank heavens. “Shall we go meet your friend?”

  He smiled and offered her his arm. Camille slipped her fingers around it, glad he hadn’t picked up on her annoyance. Perhaps Mama was right after all with her admonishments not to display her temper.

  “Good morning, Miss Dupree,” said Cade with a friendly smile. “Nice to see you again.”

  Ty made the introductions. “Miss Nola, this is Camille Dupree. Miss Dupree, may I introduce Mrs. Nola Simpson, affectionately called Miss Nola by just about everyone. She is a dear, longtime friend.”

  “Good thing you didn’t say old friend, boy.” The elderly lady laughed merrily, turning her keen eyes on Camille. “The gossips were right. You are a beauty. Welcome to Willow Grove, Miss Dupree.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You drop by for a visit sometime this week, and I’ll bend your ear about this rascal here.” Mrs. Simpson shifted, leaning more fully on her cane.

  “Uh-oh, I’m in trouble now,” said Ty. “She’s known me since I was a kid.”

  “It should be interesting.” Camille welcomed any insight she could get about Ty. Maybe it would help her understand why she was so drawn to him. She also took an instant liking to the older woman. “Would two o’clock on Tuesday be a good time?”

  “Perfect. I suppose if I were nice, I’d let Ty take you out to dinner and for a buggy ride.”

  “Oh, no ma’am. That isn’t necessary.” Camille glanced up at him to gauge his reaction. For once, the man had a poker face. “He’s looking forward to spending the afternoon with you.”

  “Child, no matter how nice a man is, he doesn’t prefer an old woman’s company to a young one’s.”

  “Sometimes a man enjoys both.” The gentle smile Ty gave Miss Nola was filled with love. “And I think Miss Dupree already has plans for today.”

  “I do. The Flynns have asked me to dinner. I haven’t even begun to bring them up to date with news of their former neighbors in San Antonio.”

  A boy and a little girl ran up to them. The boy stopped beside Jessie, studying Camille quietly. Cade scooped the girl up in his arms, giving her a hug. They were beautiful children.

  Camille smiled at them. “You must be Brad and Ellie. Your uncle has told me a lot about you.”

  “You must be the lady Uncle Ty spent all that money on last night,” said Ellie, giving her the once over.

  “Ellie!” Jessie’s face turned red.

  “I heard you and Daddy talking after you came home.” With childish innocence, Ellie ignored her mother. “Daddy said Uncle Ty must have it bad to spend so much money just to eat supper with you. What does it mean?”

  It was Ty’s turn for a red face. Camille felt hers heat, too.

  “That’s something you’ll learn about when you’re older.” Cade sent them an apologetic look.

  Ellie sighed heavily, meeting Camille’s gaze. “That’s what he says about everything.”

  Camille laughed and wished she could hug the delightful child. Everyone except Ellie joined in the laughter. “Your daddy is right, honey. Though I expect you’ll learn that lesson much sooner than he’d like.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Cade ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m gettin’ gray just thinking about it.” He glanced at the thinning crowd. “We’d better head on over to the restaurant. Otherwise, we won’t get a table.”

  “I’ll bring the buggy over, Nola,” said Ty.

  “I’ll see you Tuesday afternoon.” Camille smiled at Miss Nola, then turned to Cade and Jessie. “I hope to see you again soon as well.”

  “We’re looking forward to Ty bringing you out to the ranch.”

  “I am, too.”

  “Ty suggested Saturday. That would be a good day for us if you can make it,” said Jessie. “The children and I will be staying in town during the week now that the new school term is starting.”

  “Are you coming to see us?” Ellie’s face perked up.

  “Yes.” Camille glanced at Ty. “On Saturday.” He nodded his agreement.

  “Brad and me can show you the new kittens. They’re down in the barn. We have a lot of cats.”

  “Good. I like kittens. Now, I’d better let you go to dinner.”

  “I’ll walk you over to Mrs. Flynn. The buggy is in that direction.” When they were out of hearing of the others, Ty said quietly, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For graciously deflecting Nola’s half-hearted offer to let me spend the afternoon with you. She’s been looking forward to that drive since before I went to San Angelo.”

  “It would have been very discourteous of me to try to interrupt your plans. Your kindness to her speaks highly of your character, Mr. McKinnon.”

  He shrugged. “She’s been like a mother to me. I try to treat her the way she deserves.”

  When Ty found out about Anthony, would he treat her the way she deserved?

  A chill shrouded her heart and seeped into her soul.

  Chapter Eight

  On Monday morning, Camille walked into the Willow Grove Gazette office with a twinge of fear and a great deal of anticipation.

  The young man setting type looked up from his work and froze in place.

  “Good morning.” Camille gave him a pleasant but not dazzling smile. She glanced around the room, spotting an open door leading into another office. “I would like to speak to Mr. Hill, please.”

  The typesetter hopped up from his chair, bumping a tray of lead type in the process. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get him.” He hurried across the room and knocked on the door sill. “There’s a lady here to see you, sir.”

  A tall, thin man quickly appeared in the doorway. Camille estimated his age to be late fifties or early sixties. He smiled cordially as he approached. “I’m Ralph Hill. How can I help you?”

  “I’m Camille Dupree.” Judging from the glint of recognition in his eyes, he had heard about her. “I understand you’re looking for a business partner.”

  “I am.” Curiosity shaded his voice.

  “I’m looking for a business.”

  He broke into a broad grin. “Well, Miss Dupree, I think we have some talking to do. Come into my office.”

  Hill motioned for her to precede him into the other room. He left the door partially open, waiting until she had taken a chair in front of his desk before he sat down behind it. “Do you know anything about running a newspaper?”

  “No. But I owned a store in San Antonio.” She didn’t like shading the truth, but she was certain that if she told him she’d owned a saloon, he would show her the door. “I am experienced at bookkeeping, handling employees and generally running a business. I’m sure you could teach me what else I need to know. I’m impressed with the quality of your paper. There seem to be plenty of th
ings to write about in Willow Grove, but you have good coverage of news from other parts of the country, even the world. That’s important.”

  “I agree, though sometimes I just use that to fill up the paper when there isn’t enough going on around here.” He grimaced. “Or when there isn’t much advertising. Did Ty suggest you see me?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I thought he might have had something to do with it. Mrs. Nickson dropped off a little article about the box supper for this week’s issue. It doesn’t mention you or the mayor’s high bid, but she took great delight in telling me the story.”

  “I’m surprised you hadn’t already heard about it,” Camille said dryly.

  “Actually, I had. But as a newspaperman, it always pays to listen to someone else’s version.” Chuckling, he swiveled around in his chair and took a ledger from a shelf behind him. Laying it on the desk, he shoved it across to Camille. “As you can see, I’m still in the black, but barely. If I hadn’t done some extra printing—flyers and such—I would have closed shop a month ago. Several accounts are long past due, but my old ticker can’t handle the hassle of trying to collect the money.” He sighed heavily. “Actually, I haven’t had the energy to go around and solicit business. There are regular paying customers like Ty, but we have new businesses starting up almost every week. I just haven’t felt well enough to go talk to them about advertising.”

  Camille opened the ledger and scanned the figures with a frown. “Some of these people owe you for months of advertising.”

  “Which is why I no longer do business with them.”

  “Are they so certain of their customers that they don’t need to seek more?”

  “Some are. There’s only one ice house in town. Same for the photographer. There are three boardinghouses, but they’re full up. If someone vacates a room, word spreads so fast that half a dozen people will be lined up at the door before it shuts behind him. For now, the carpenters have more business than they can handle. I don’t think it’s even worth talking to any of those folks. But the others all have competition.”

  “How long ago did you quit taking their ads?”

  “Two months for some. Three for the rest.”

  Camille tapped her fingertips on the page. “By now they may have noticed a drop in customers.” Studying the names of the businesses, a plan began to form, along with the excitement of a new challenge. “Shall we see how persuasive I am, Mr. Hill?”

  “Be my guest, Miss Dupree.”

  “I’d like to establish our business arrangement before I go talk to them, so I can officially represent the paper.” She studied the ledger again. “I’m willing to invest enough today to cover all expenses for the next three months, including a salary for you. Then we can see how things are going at that point.”

  He considered her offer for a few minutes. When excitement lit his eyes, she knew her money, and perhaps her enthusiasm, compensated for any lack of qualifications.

  “Sounds fair to me. If you can round up more business, you won’t have to put in any more money and will start getting a return on your investment. How do you see splitting up the ownership?”

  “Seventy-thirty for now. This is your paper. I’m just a beginner. We can renegotiate in three months.” If I’m still here.

  “You have an itch to do some writing?”

  “I’d like give it a try later. I’ll trust you not to let me embarrass myself by publishing something awful.”

  “I’ll make certain you don’t.” He stood and leaned across the desk, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the Willow Grove Gazette, Miss Dupree.”

  She stood also and shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Hill. What bank do you use?”

  “First National.”

  “Good. I opened an account there this morning. I’ll have them transfer the money into the Gazette account right away.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Now, I need to make a list of who owes you and how much. Anything you can tell me about them would be helpful, too.”

  He stepped aside. “Take my chair. Here’s a notepad and pencil. Would you like some coffee?”

  “No thanks.” Camille moved around the desk as Mr. Hill walked over to a corner cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. After she sat down, he took the chair across from her. “I assume that these other businesses are all doing well enough to pay their bills?”

  “Should be. Town’s booming.”

  They spent almost an hour compiling the list and discussing the various owners. By the time she was ready to leave, Camille had a good idea of who might pleasantly tell her to go away and who might be belligerent. “Now, I need a copy of the paper. I left mine in the hotel room.”

  “Sure thing.” Mr. Hill rose and walked out into the front office. He returned a minute later with Friday’s paper. He handed it to her, watching as she read over the ads. “How do you intend to proceed?”

  She smiled, folded the paper, and tucked one end of it into her deep, drawstring purse. She added the notepad and pencil to her bag. Taking out a small bottle of perfume, she dabbed a drop of the rose scent beneath each ear. “I’m going to size up the competition of our errant customers. Then I’ll try to convince the folks on this list how much better off they’d be to pay their bills so they can advertise.” She batted her eyelashes. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll try to charm them into doing it.”

  Mr. Hill laughed as she stood. “Miss Dupree, I like your style. Don’t be surprised if you catch me eavesdropping.”

  “Just stand clear if anybody starts throwing things.”

  Camille stopped by the bank first and asked them to deposit the money into the newspaper’s account. She visited several of the stores which had ads in the paper and inspected the merchandise, particularly any sales items highlighted in the ads.

  When she came out of Siler’s Grocery, she spotted Ty standing in the doorway of his store. He crossed the street and walked down the boardwalk to meet her.

  “You’re a busy lady this morning. I can understand your interest in the grocer’s and apothecary’s, but why the hardware store?” They walked down the sidewalk together.

  “Have you been following me?”

  “Nope. Just standing in my doorway, watching the goings-on in town. I can’t help it if you’re the prettiest thing around to look at.”

  “My, my, flattery so early in the morning.”

  “It’s easy.” His voice dropped a little lower. “Especially when I’ve been thinking about you most of the time since Saturday night.”

  She’d been thinking about him, too. Far more than was wise. Camille glanced up at his face. If he just wasn’t so handsome, so nice to be around.

  “Did you go see Hill?”

  “I did. I am now part owner of the newspaper.”

  “Congratulations. I figured he’d jump at having you for a partner. Have you been calling on customers?”

  “In a way. I’m about to call on the people who owe us money. So I thought it would be wise to check their competitors’ stores, see if there is a way to compare the businesses.”

  “Good idea. Sounds like you may have a knack for this business.”

  Camille laughed, stopping in front of the Willow Grove City Bank. “We’ll see how successful I am.”

  “You’ll have them eating out of your hand. Come see me later and tell me all about it.”

  “I will. You’ll be at the store?”

  “Should be. I haven’t done a lick of work all day.” He leaned a tiny bit closer and took a deep breath. “Mercy, woman, you smell good.”

  “Part of the strategy. Befuddle their brains with perfume and a smile and before they know it, they’ve paid their bills.”

  “They won’t know what hit ’em.” He smiled briefly, but it quickly faded. “Be careful.”

  “Always.” Except around you, she thought. He had an uncanny way of slipping inside her defenses before she even realized it. “Go make some money.”

  He chuc
kled. “You, too.”

  She walked into the bank with a happy smile and asked to speak with the bank president.

  A minute later, a heavyset man, strutting with self-importance, came out to meet her. “Good morning, Miss Dupree. I’m Edgar Montworth. How can I help you?”

  “I’d like to speak to you about your account at the newspaper.”

  The man blinked, then hastily showed her into his office and offered her a seat. Taking his chair behind the desk after she sat down, he rested his clasped hands on his expansive stomach. “It isn’t time to renew my subscription.”

  “I’m talking about the twelve dollars you owe for past advertising, Mr. Montworth. I am now Mr. Hill’s partner in the Gazette. My first task is to collect past due accounts so that we will be able to keep the paper solvent.” She flashed him a smile. “I’m sure you understand solvency better than anyone else in town. That’s why I feel certain that this is simply something that has been overlooked accidentally.”

  “I…uh…perhaps that is the case.”

  “Being new to Willow Grove, I can tell you that advertising in the local newspaper is very important. Why just this morning I opened an account at First National. Their ad is what brought them to my attention. Now, if Willow Grove City Bank had also advertised, I would have considered your bank, too.” At least until she talked to Nate and he recommended First National, saying he didn’t trust Montworth as far as he could throw him.

  “Well, that is something to consider. The town is growing.”

  “By supporting your local paper, you’ll show all the residents, both new and old, how civic-minded you are. Seems to me that’s a small price to pay for the goodwill of the community.”

  “You are as persuasive as you are beautiful, Miss Dupree.”

  “Thank you. Once your account is caught up, you will be billed on the fifteenth of the month. If your payment isn’t made by the thirtieth of that month, we will not accept your business until the bill is paid in full. After that, advance payment will be required.”

  “You’re also a tough businesswoman,” said the banker, his good humor fading.

  “No more than a man would be if he wanted to succeed.” She stood. “Mr. Hill publishes an excellent paper. I intend to see that it continues. If you’ll drop your payment off at the office by Wednesday, I’ll stop by on Thursday or Friday to discuss what you want in your ad for next week.”

 

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