Her plan wasn’t working. She had wanted to break through his haze and make him aware of her. She’d done the job too well.
The door swung open. Neil swept inside with water streaming from his hat and clothes. “I was gonna wait until it let up, but that might not happen for several hours and I didn’t want to spend my evening in the Silver Star Saloon.”
Janet took his wet coat to hang behind the stove. “Did you talk to Adam?”
He cast a critical eye on her. “I did. You seem anxious for his answer.”
She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “The ladies want to know, and I’m meeting them tonight.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. He lifted a muddy boot. “You’ll ruin your pretty dresses if you don’t wait until it dries.”
She bristled at his tone, until the image of washing yards of muddy hemlines came to mind. “At least there’s nothing wrong with your eyes.”
He studied her. “No, there isn’t. And I’m beginning to see more than you want, I think.”
Janet’s heart thumped against her ribs. “What do you mean?”
Jack let the oven door bang closed. “Someone tell Pa and Ben to wash up.”
“I’ll go, since I still have my boots on.” Neil’s last look before he went back into the storm told her he wasn’t done talking yet.
On Sunday, in preparation for an upcoming wedding, the preacher talked about the bond between a husband, wife, and God. He stressed the importance of harmony between marriage partners and the need to seek God for His direction. Such a bond would strengthen them in times of adversity. An excellent reminder of the importance of choosing a Godly man to share her own life.
At the completion of the service, Emily waited in the aisle, smiling in her direction.
“Morning, Emily,” Jack said, blocking Janet’s view.
Janet raised her hands to push him forward but paused with her hands inches from his back at something in his voice.
Emily peered around him as if he hadn’t spoken. With her eyes on Janet she said, “Hello, Jack.” She beckoned to Janet. “I have to talk to you.”
In front of her, Jack’s shoulders dropped. Glancing back, he stepped into the aisle. “I’ll see you at home.”
As if she hadn’t heard a word he said, Emily took Janet’s arm and pulled her through the groups of parishioners on the church grounds.
Janet’s gaze followed Jack. Instead of socializing with the men, he headed home-ward. Like a veil lifting from her eyes, she saw Jack as someone ready to start his own family. She thought back to the supper table when they’d first discussed the Ladies Social Club. Jack’s interest had peaked when she had mentioned that Emily was one of the ladies organizing the club. Did Jack feel toward Emily the same way she felt for Adam? A sobering thought.
Emily tugged her arm. “Well, will he?”
“Will who what?”
“Silly. Will Adam Hazelton let his name stand on the bachelor’s list?”
“I don’t know. Neil hasn’t said.”
Emily stepped back in mock alarm. “Why did Neil ask him? You should have done it.”
“No, I won’t. I asked my brothers, and that was enough. Asking Mr. Hazelton would be too forward.”
“Wait, there’s Neil over there.” Before Janet could stop her, Emily raised an elegant hand. “Mr. Smith? A moment of your time.”
Neil, Ben, and Pa looked over from the circle of men conversing.
“Neil?” Emily persisted.
Janet turned away from Neil’s knowing look.
He ambled toward them.
She’d avoided him since the storm, not wishing to divulge her secret, lest he say something to Adam that she wasn’t ready to reveal.
“Miss Dundas. Janet. I’m at your service.”
His gallant response might have hidden the amusement in his voice from Emily but not from Janet who knew better.
Emily stepped forward. “Mr. Smith, thank you for allowing your name to be added to the list of available bachelors in our community. On behalf of the Ladies Social Club, I ask that you convey our appreciation to your brothers, as well.”
The eloquent words weren’t lost on Neil, whose chest seemed to expand before Janet’s eyes.
“I will, Miss Dundas. Was there anything else?” His eyes flickered to Janet, daring her to ask.
“Janet?” Emily nudged her.
Forced to question him in public, she attempted to follow Emily’s gracious example. “The Ladies Social Club would like to know if you’ve asked any other gentlemen if they would be interested in putting their names forth, and in particular, Mr. Hazelton of The Emporium.”
She held her breath, waiting for the words that would decide…what? It wouldn’t decide anything unless she knew the reasoning behind it. She let her breath out with the realization that the answer didn’t matter one whit. “If you two will excuse me, I’ve just remembered something important I have to do.”
“Janet?”
She didn’t turn at Emily’s call. In the corner of her eye, her father and brothers turned as one in her direction. She kept walking, increasing her stride until she was far enough away to break into a very unladylike run.
Neil labored with the heavy crate. “You selling rocks now, Adam?”
“I suspect it’s the books I ordered. It’ll be awhile before I get to them, so you might as well bring it back here.” Adam led the way into the back room. “Thank you, Neil.”
The crate landed with a thud. Neil straightened. “Books, huh. Schoolbooks, or reading books?”
“Reading books. Science books. Bibles,” he added beneath his breath.
“Did you say Bibles? I thought a drummer usually sold those.”
Adam shrugged. “I have someone who wants a Bible, and the Bible drummer isn’t here. I might as well stock them since I seem to carry a bit of everything else.”
“Want me to spread the word?”
“That will be fine.” He locked the door after Neil with a satisfying click.
If someone had told him when he first opened his store that he could triple his customers by ordering things no one wanted, he would have laughed at them. But that’s what had happened. Instead of having his customers order what they wanted, sight unseen from a catalog, he took the risk by ordering what he thought they might like. He was grateful to people like the Smiths who helped spread the word.
And speaking of the Word, it was time to see what all the fuss was about. He pried open the crate to the familiar sight of fluffy golden straw. As if in reverence to the content, whoever had packed the crate had set the Bibles on top so that a mere sweep of his hand revealed several Bibles of varying sizes, some heavy and decorated, others compact with tiny printing.
The last layer contained a black leather-bound volume with a gilded cross and the words Holy Bible on the cover. It matched the one he’d owned years ago—the one that had burned with the rest of his possessions—except the leather wasn’t worn smooth in places, and the pages showed no sign of being turned.
He set the Bibles on a back shelf instead of bringing them into the showroom like the other books in the crate. He’d sell the Bibles if someone asked for one, but he wouldn’t put them on display like someone who believed in the stories of Jesus’ miracles and God’s love.
And yet love was the reason he’d ordered them, because the note he’d found in his coat pocket had mentioned Solomon’s Song. Something about it had nagged his memory, but he hadn’t been able to latch on to it other than to remember his siblings’ whispers in the dark after the evening scripture reading.
Curiosity compelled him to reach for the simple black Bible. He balanced it in one hand. With his other hand, he drew the fourth note out of his pocket and read:
Solomon’s Song shows love so fine, so hold me close and say you’re mine.
He turned to Solomon’s Song and skimmed over the words until the meaning caught his attention. He started the chapter again from the be
ginning. When he finished, he pondered on the words. Love in all its forms had been revealed on the pages.
Someone had left notes in his store, with each expressing love in a deeper sense. First in thought, then physical, then emotional, and back to physical of a deeper nature. More attachment every time.
If the notes continued, what was next? How many notes before he discovered the author? So far, he had sat and waited for the answer. Tomorrow he’d start investigating, even if it meant the author was on the run. Time to see who was playing the game of love and keeps.
With the love note back in his pocket, he set the Bible on top of the others.
For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to a new day.
Chapter 6
An older man meandered around the showroom without any apparent wish to buy. Adam didn’t recognize the lone man at first but then remembered something from a few weeks previous.
“Mr. Lowell?”
The man turned, showing sad, red-rimmed eyes.
Adam made his way over. “I was sorry to hear about your brother. How are you keeping?”
The inane words bounced off Mr. Lowell’s melancholy. “Not well, I’m afraid. I think he’s behind me, but when I turn, he’s not there.”
Adam surprised himself by reaching out and patting the older man’s shoulder. “You shared something special that most of us will never experience. I don’t expect it will ever feel right again. Is there anything I can get you, sir?” He dropped his arm as a thought occurred. “Did you ever use those suitcases I sold you? If you have no use for them, you can return them for your money.”
Mr. Lowell shook his head. “Thank you, no. To see them sitting by the door is a memory of the past, and a dream for the future. At this stage, Mr. Hazelton, it’s the only thing I have left.” He extended his hand. “I appreciate your concern. You’re a good man, Hazelton.”
Shoulders sagging with the weight of his pain, he shuffled out the door.
Adam stared down the street after him. The exchange hadn’t been pleasant, yet he felt as if he’d accomplished something decent. For a few minutes, he’d shared Mr. Lowell’s pain.
Later that week, Adam’s day brightened when Janet entered the store. She headed right to him, wearing a smile that warmed his heart.
“Hello, Janet.” Her name slipped past his lips without thought.
For a brief moment, her eyes looked into his with an emotion that made his fingers tingle as if long-frozen blood thawed in his veins.
She turned to the man by her side. “Pastor Keyes, meet Adam Hazelton.”
A sudden punch to Adam’s stomach couldn’t have surprised him more.
The preacher extended his hand.
After a brief hesitation, Adam shook it. “Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to my store.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hazelton. Janet mentioned you have some Bibles for sale.”
“She did?” He didn’t recall her being in the store in the days since the shipment had arrived.
“Neil told me.” She looked around the showroom. “Where are they?”
Adam wished he’d taken his own advice and hired an assistant. “They’re back here.”
In the storeroom, the preacher picked up the compact Bible. “Interesting.”
Janet’s gaze scanned the room. “What are they doing back here? Neil said they arrived several days ago.”
Adam shrugged. “I haven’t decided where to display them.”
Her direct look searched his eyes, moving across the bridge of his nose as if each of his pupils revealed a different soul.
Janet caught her breath at the pain reflected in his eyes.
He glanced at his pocket watch. “If you’ll excuse me.” With his long apron flapping around his knees, he marched straight through the showroom and kept going across the street.
Instinct told her he was headed to his tree. She’d often seen him there, but as far as she knew, he didn’t leave while customers were inside.
The pastor picked up the largest Bible with the leather-embossed board cover. He allowed his fingers to trail across the gilded geometric design. After putting it down, he lifted the simple black leather-covered Bible showing the gilded words and cross. “How long have you known him, Janet?”
“Adam? I mean Mr. Hazelton? Since he moved here a few years ago. Mostly through transporting his goods from the station to the store, but we also make deliveries for him. Why?”
With the black leather Bible in his hands, Pastor Keyes nodded toward the front door. “His past is catching up to him. He’ll need someone strong to help him through it.”
Leaving him to look at the other Bibles, she walked back into the showroom and stood at the end of the counter. She had watched Adam often enough to know that he kept his personal things in a drawer. What would he do if he discovered someone had been in it?
She took the fifth note out of her pocket as her pulse thrummed in her ears. Pastor Keyes could walk up behind her at any moment. Or Adam could walk through the door and catch her in the act. He would know she was the one leaving the notes. What would he say?
Without rethinking it, she reached over and pulled open the drawer. She paused at the sight of the other love notes tucked into each other like spoons. “Here’s another one, Adam,” she whispered. She dropped the note on the rest and closed the drawer.
Adam hadn’t returned.
She went back to check on Pastor Keyes.
He held the compact Bible in his right hand, and the black leather one in his left. “I’ll take these two.”
In the showroom, he laid the two Bibles on the counter before bending to peer inside the display case. “I think I’ll look around while you see if your Mr. Hazelton is ready to come back inside.”
“Oh, but he’s not my Mr. Hazelton.”
Pastor Keyes laid a knowing look on her that would have matched King Solomon’s. Since she refused to lie, she pivoted toward the door and left him to explore Adam’s treasures.
They met at the door.
“Are you all right?” She reached out to touch his arm but stopped with her hand in the air as if it encountered an invisible barrier. His stern bearing warned her that whatever vulnerability he had shown in the storeroom had been displaced by a side of him that brooked no room for weakness.
“Has the preacher found something to his liking?” He strode past her, his voice loud enough to carry to the storeroom and back although the pastor stood right there. All business, Adam rounded his counter where he braced himself on the glass top. He flinched as his gaze fell on the two Bibles lying side by side before him. “Which one did you choose?”
“I’d like them both.”
“Both of them?”
Something akin to panic flared on his face before he doused it as he had at the door. “You want both of them,” he repeated.
“Yes, I have someone in mind for each of them.”
“They are for sale, aren’t they?” the preacher asked.
His challenge brushed Adam’s nerve endings the wrong way. “Yes, they are. Like everything else, they come in and they go out. Nothing lasts.”
“Do you need cash, Mr. Hazelton, or may I put it on account? Providing the Community Church at the end of Main Street has an account?”
“Your church doesn’t have an account here. I’ll start one for you today if you think your flock will agree.”
“That will be fine. We don’t shut the doors before the guests arrive, Mr. Hazelton. In fact, I’d like to think we don’t shut them at all.”
Adam didn’t care if the preacher locked the church doors and tossed the key in the Tongue River. However, the sight of the preacher tucking the black leather Bible in the crook of his arm shot an arc of pain across his chest. He had discovered the Psalms one morning and now began each day by skimming bits of David’s trials. Something in the young shepherd’s fearful journey had reached out to Adam’s pain.
But there were other Bibles in the back. Different cover, same
story.
“I’ll write that up and send it over today.” With the sale complete, he nodded to send them on their way.
“Mr. Hazelton, we’re having an outdoor service followed by a picnic this Sunday on the church grounds. You’re welcome to join us for both, or just the picnic if that makes you feel better. We won’t judge you either way. I believe you already know a lot of the good folks who’ll be there, so you won’t be a stranger to anyone but yourself.” He smiled to emphasize his words.
It sounded to Adam as if the preacher had thrown down another challenge.
The preacher smiled at Janet. “Janet and her family will be there, won’t you, Janet?”
Yup, definitely a challenge.
Janet lowered her eyes in a feminine move he’d never seen on her before. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
Whether it was the preacher’s challenge, or Janet’s confirmation, something propelled him to say, “I’ll see you on Sunday, then.”
He should have said he’d changed his mind as they were walking away. He could have said it before they got to the door. He would have yelled it down the street if it hadn’t occurred to him that if he went, he might discover the author of the poetic love notes.
Sunday morning found him dressed, polished, and brushed better than he’d ever been for the store, although he’d changed his mind a million times over the past few days. He planned to arrive after the service ended and before the meal started, which would give him time to investigate without having to sit through a sermon.
Halfway through the morning, after his small rented house had started to close in on him, he decided to get the love notes from the store and bring them along. Perhaps he would even show one of the first ones to Neil, who was used to seeing signatures in his line of work.
The Secret Admirer Romance Collection Page 23