Silver Belles and Stetsons

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Silver Belles and Stetsons Page 9

by Caroline Clemmons


  She stared at him with wide eyes. Her enticing rosebud mouth formed a perfect 0.

  He sought to reassure her. “Pardon, querida. I did not mean to frighten you, only to offer caution. I have my pistol in case we see a threat, but I do not expect we will. We must walk from here. Otherwise, the buggy will get stuck in the ravine’s sand.”

  “I’ll stay with you. I saw you brought tools.”

  “Borrowed from Joel. Actually he and Luther kept adding things until I’m surprised there was room for us.” Reaching for her slender gloved hand, he helped her alight.

  She slid off her coat and laid it across the seat. “What shall I carry?”

  “How about these pruning shears?” He handed the small pair to her then picked up long-handled lopping shears and a saw.

  “Oh, look at that beautiful tree. I’d hate to ruin its shape.”

  “Unless you earn your money cutting the trees, cedar is a nuisance that encroaches on grazing range. Joel lets cutters in once or twice a year. Believe me, he’ll be happy to have us take all the limbs you want.”

  “Perhaps we can come back later and cut one for a Christmas tree.”

  “If you see one with a red banner tied to it, Joel has earmarked it for his house, the church, or the school.” He pointed to the right. “There is one of them.”

  She shaded her eyes with her hand. “Yes, now I see one. I wonder if Dad plans to sell trees? Do you think customers would buy them?”

  “Of course, but I have no idea how many he could sell. You’re a good business woman. Your father is fortunate to have your help.”

  “Thank you, Eduardo. You have no idea how much you saying that means to me.”

  He set to work stripping large limbs from a nearby tree.

  She attacked the same tree. “Grr. I can’t cut through the branch. At least I remembered to bring a pair of my mother’s old gardening gloves.”

  He ended her difficulty by cutting through the branch for her. “You should stand nearby and direct me. I am yours to command.”

  She chuckled. “I’ve always wanted someone to say that to me.”

  “Surely I’m not the first?” He loved seeing her smile. He suspected she had not experienced nearly enough laughter in her life.

  She pointed and he cut until the back of the buggy was full of cedar boughs piled on the floor and seat.

  “Eduardo, we should stop. By the time you take me home and we unload, you’ll be late getting home. You said you and your father rise early and tomorrow is a work day.”

  He held her coat before he helped her into the buggy. “Every day is a working day for ranchers, but we must make time for fun and family.”

  She settled on the seat beside him. “Thank you for helping me. I’ve enjoyed the afternoon.”

  “Amorada, I have enjoyed our time together very much. I will be pleased to assist you in any way you suggest. You have only to ask.”

  As they neared her parents’ home, he asked, “Is there room for me to pull around back? I am certain your mother will not want this cedar in her house or front yard.”

  “The carriage house is at the back. Just turn on the west side after the fence.”

  When they’d unloaded the cedar branches, Celia shook her head, “Oh, no. Look at your buggy. Your parents will be angry.”

  “They won’t know. I’ll sweep it out when I get home.” He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  She raised her head to meet his gaze. Her sweet lips tempted him.

  “Even if that were not true, they would not mind.” Dare he kiss her?

  Footsteps crunched on the gravel outside the coach house. Her parents stepped through the doorway into the building. He was unashamed of his position, but dropped his hands to keep from embarrassing her. No sense making Celia’s life more difficult.

  She smiled at him before stepping away.

  Her father stared at the mound of cedar. “Are you planning a wholesale business in this stuff?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. With mother’s help, I can make wreaths for this house, the store, and have several to sell.”

  Her mother picked up a branch. “I could work with this. What a good idea, Celia. Let me think where I put my trims and floral supplies. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go search for them.”

  The other three watched her hurry out.

  Celia clasped her hands to her chest. “Did you see, Dad? She’s excited.” She turned to Eduardo. “Thank you for that. I’ve been worried about her sadness.”

  “Again, this has been my pleasure.”

  Her father didn’t meet his glance but stared at his feet. “Celia’s right. My wife has not been herself lately. You have my thanks as well.”

  Shocked at her father’s admission, Eduardo inclined his head toward the other man, and then regarded Celia. “Perhaps next Sunday after church, you will dine with my parents.”

  “How lovely to be invited. I’ll look forward to the occasion.”

  “But now I must return Joel’s tools and drive home.”

  “Goodnight, Eduardo.”

  She had spent half a day in his company and agreed to come to his home next Sunday. In spite of her parents’ obvious disapproval, she was not put off by their opinion. Laughing at his good fortune, he felt like howling at the moon.

  ***

  Early Tuesday morning, Celia stood back to survey her handiwork. The wreath she’d hung was the perfect size for the mercantile’s door. On the store’s porch, she’d created a display of five more of the decorations she and her mother created yesterday. Had she priced them too high at twenty-five and fifty cents?

  Mrs. Fraser spoke behind her. “Oh. Look, what cheerful wreaths.”

  “I like the one on the end best, don’t you? The red velvet ribbons look the most festive.” Mrs. Gamble bent to get a better look.

  The other sister tapped a finger against her lips a moment. “We’d better buy the one we want before someone else snaps it away from us.” She opened her purse and took out two quarters.

  Celia dropped the coins into her apron pocket. “Shall I have Vergie deliver your wreath?”

  Mrs. Fraser nodded. “Please. We might trip carrying something that unwieldy.”

  Mrs. Gamble chuckled. “And then we’ll ask the first nephew we see to hang it for us. Likely that’ll be Joel.”

  Celia smiled at the two friendly women. They were among the nicest people she’d ever met. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  Mrs. Fraser nodded. “If he does, he won’t show he’s annoyed. Those boys are treasures.”

  The sisters went into the store excitedly discussing decorations they would use inside their home. Celia picked up their wreath and took it around the store’s side to enter from the stockroom, where she attached a note for Vergie.

  By mid-afternoon, the other four had been sold. She busied herself rearranging the merchandise in the window. Her dad had done all right, but she wanted a more cheerful, seasonal display. She lined the area with red paper and laid a few sprigs of cedar at random intervals. Starting with toys at one end, she then selected a Bible, gloves laid on folded scarves, and other gift items. She included a nativity crèche and figures at the center.

  When she’d finished, her father came over to inspect her result. “That looks good. The sort of display your mother used to arrange.”

  “Don’t give up, Dad. She had fun with the wreaths yesterday.” She paused. “I should have involved her in changing the window, shouldn’t I? Why don’t I put all of these items back in stock and ask her advice?”

  “If you think the idea might work, I’ll help. Leave the red paper, though.”

  Together, they quickly emptied the window.

  “Now I’ll go home and tell her how upset I am that I can’t decide how to make the window appealing.”

  Soon Celia returned, accompanied by her mother.

  Her mom looked at the red paper. “Well, you’ve made a good start.”

  Mama walked u
p and down aisles gathering items, many of which were those Celia had chosen earlier. “I like to include something for all pocketbooks and all ages. I’ve mixed work gloves and scarves with those for dress wear. And the toys range from a few pennies to luxurious.”

  “You’re definitely gifted at design, Mama. I’m so glad I asked your help.”

  Her mother practically purred. “I’m sure you would have done a good job, dear. For that matter, your father does well enough himself.”

  “But the window has to be very special for Christmas and required your expert touch.”

  Mama beamed. “Well, if you truly feel that way, perhaps I should resume doing the displays for now.”

  Behind her mother’s back, Celia’s dad winked.

  ***

  Celia slipped her hands under the heavy blanket Eduardo had tucked around her for their drive to his home. A frigid northerly wind pushed against the buggy, and gray clouds hung low on the horizon.

  She watched the road before them. “Do you expect snow?”

  “Not today, amor.”

  “I’ve hardly seen snow, never enough to completely cover the ground. My parents remember a couple of times in their lives when there was enough in New Orleans to build a small snowman. I’ve always wanted to make a snowball.”

  He smiled at her, his dark eyes flashing with humor. “I’m sure you will have that opportunity before winter ends. Normally we would have had one heavy snowfall by now, usually near Thanksgiving.”

  “Perhaps another day would be best.”

  “I would not mind if you were snowed in at my home, mi amor, but I suspect your parents would not share my appreciation.”

  She lowered her lashes and smiled at his continued use of Spanish endearments. “They forget that I’m grown rather than a child. For heaven’s sake, I’m twenty-seven years old, not twelve, and I’ve been married and widowed.”

  “Ah, I suspect we are always small children to our parents, no matter our age. How are plans for your project progressing?”

  “The children’s pageant is going to be adorable, Eduardo. Gwen Jones and Melissa Billings co-wrote the script. They’re both gifted at working with children.”

  “I have witnessed Melissa’s magic, but I do not know the new teacher well. Since she works with students daily, for her sake I hope she is as you say, gifted.”

  “I’m also pleased with the number of businesses who are entering the decorating contest. We have twenty signed up to be judged.” She took pleasure from her plan’s response to restore the community’s Christmas spirit.

  “I should have driven through town to see. Who’s entered?”

  “Easier to say who hasn’t, but there’s still time. I can’t prove it, but I think Judge Henderson is drumming up entrants.”

  Eduardo’s laugh burst forth in a pleasant rumble. “That man can appear frightening to those who don’t know he is soft-hearted.”

  Surprised, Celia asked, “Is he really?”

  “His daughter-in-law Theresa is a good friend of Hope’s. Mrs. Henderson was a friend to Hope’s mother. For many years, the Judge and his wife helped my cousin. Her parents were not…not kind or loving. Her father was a bully who did not mind using his fists.”

  “You’ve surprised me again. She’s so beautiful and nice I would have thought her parents treasured her.”

  He shook his head in apparent disgust. “You’d think Rosalyn’s would have also and yet they practically sold her to a much older man.”

  She placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Oh, Eduardo, you don’t know how bad they are. When she was accused of her first husband’s murder, they not only refused to help her but they told all their friends she and Lucy had died.”

  His usual sunny-looking face grew stormy. “How could they be so mean-spirited to their own daughter? It makes me want to take an ad in the New Orleans newspaper and announce that she is alive and well and happy with her new family.”

  Celia giggled. “I like the way you think. Wouldn’t that upset their pretentious life?”

  “Perhaps we will consider this later. I approve of anything that makes you smile. Now please watch ahead on my left.”

  They crested a hill and Celia’s breath caught in her throat. As Eduardo guided the horse-drawn buggy into a turn, a group of buildings spread before them. The central building was a large two-story home built of what appeared adobe roofed with red clay Spanish-style tiles. A one-story wing flowed at either side of the large structure.

  In the distance behind the home, she spotted a river wending across the countryside. A thick wall surrounded the grounds. At one side, outside the enclosure, an orchard grew in straight lines.

  “What a beautiful home and setting.”

  “I’m pleased you think so, querida. Ours is a copy of the house in which Hope and Micah live, but this one is only a little over thirty years old instead of four generations.”

  “There are homes built in this style in parts of New Orleans. Not the walls, but the roof and walled courtyard.”

  He guided the buggy along a tree-lined drive. “My father used adobe bricks plastered over and painted as in his childhood home. In our climate, this is very practical. Cool in summer and not too cold in winter. Also, very hard to break down.”

  She sensed her eyes widen. “That sounds ominous. Has anyone tried?”

  He appeared to consider her question. “Several times we had renegade Indians who did not honor my great-grandfather’s agreement with the Comanche and Kiowa. More recently, a few groups of robbers attacked. None was successful.”

  “But each must have been frightening.”

  “To a young boy who loved excitement, they were adventures. I don’t think Mama or Papa saw them that way.” He brought the buggy to a stop in a lovely courtyard with a central fountain decorated in brightly colored blue, white, and yellow tiles.

  A young Mexican rushed to take charge of the horse and vehicle.

  “Gracias, Hector.” Eduardo strode around to help her alight.

  Struck by unusual shyness, she was sorry the ride had ended. She gripped his arm as if she were drowning and he were her life saver.

  He placed his free hand over hers. “You have nothing to fear, mi amor. Neither of my parents has eaten a visitor for days.”

  She offered a tremulous smile. “I expect they’re about due another then.”

  His hearty laugh echoed across the walled-in area as he led her up broad steps and opened the intricately carved door.

  “Welcome to my home, Celia.”

  His smiling parents came into the wide foyer to greet them.

  His father bowed slightly. “My wife and I add our welcome. We’re pleased you could come today.”

  “Do you need to refresh yourself?” When Celia declined, his mother gestured to a large room at one side. “Then let us go through the salon and into the dining room. You must be hungry after your chilly ride.”

  Celia inhaled. “I didn’t think so until the lovely aromas greeted us, Señora Montoya.”

  “You must call me Sofia and my husband Jorge. Is it not humorous that my husband and your father share first names?”

  “Thank you, Sofia. Yes, I had noticed the coincidence of their names.”

  After Sofia’s husband had seated her, she said, “We are fortunate to have a good cook. She prepares most kinds of food. I thought to ask for English or French, but Eduardo requested that today we serve Mexican, which is her specialty.”

  “If the meal tastes even half as good as it smells, I’ll love it.

  Eduardo sat beside Celia. “I am starving. We fought the wind all the way from town.”

  Talk changed to Christmas preparations as dish after dish was served. Eduardo told her the name of each food.

  After the delicious meal, Sofia gave her a tour of the large house. The rooms were immense, but inviting. Eduardo’s suite was as large as that of his parents. Seeing his private space made her feel she’d intruded, but she was glad to have had a glimpse i
nto his world.

  Not quite at ease, Celia wondered how Sofia viewed her. Did she disapprove of her as much as her own parents resented Eduardo’s attention? If so, her hostess gave no hint. Instead, Sofia treated Celia as a very welcome guest.

  Celia believed someone had cleverly designed the building’s arrangement and order. “Yours is a lovely home and decorated to please the eye as well as offer comfort.”

  “Thank you. We had hoped to have many children, but Eduardo is our only gift.”

  “What a lovely way of speaking of him. Many of us are only children—Hope, Rosalyn Stone, the minister’s wife, the new teacher, and myself. I’m so happy Rosalyn has more than one child. As young girls, she and I each wanted large families.”

  Her hostess sent her a piercing gaze. “Yet you and your late husband had none?”

  Celia sensed she was being grilled. Although slightly annoyed, she realized Sofia was only thinking of her son’s future. “The accident that killed my husband caused me to lose the baby I carried.”

  Sofia gasped and took Celia’s hands in hers. ”Please forgive me for reminding you of this sorrow. I am a silly woman who only seeks to make talk.”

  After giving her hostess’ fingers a gentle squeeze, she withdrew hers. “Quite all right. You had no way of knowing. And thank you for the look at your beautiful home.”

  “We should rejoin the men. I have kept you to myself too long.”

  Looking pleased, the elegant woman smoothed her hair. Sofia led the way and the two of them walked down the stairs.

  Chapter Five

  Eduardo stood as they entered the salon. “Perhaps now you will walk with me in the garden.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He helped her with her coat and gloves before he led her through an ornate wooden door. “Did Mama show you the view from the balcony?”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “Indeed she did. Your family’s ranch is impressive and your home is lovely.”

  “We grow most of the food for us and those who work here.”

  “You have a lot of people working in the house. I’m sure even more work on the ranch.”

 

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