But instead of Gabriel, she had George Owens and William Clark. Not that there was anything wrong with those gentlemen. Any woman would be excited at the prospect of being courted by either one of them. She’d known George for several years, and William had grown up in Burnet. But did the amount of time spent with someone equal depth of feeling?
George Owens had always been a business acquaintance, one of many suited men who came and went in her father’s sphere, and William Clark had always been a family friend who’d gone to law school, and then been appointed to the prosecutor’s position.
If she had to choose between the two, William was the more attractive choice.
If only Gabriel would come home and make his intentions known. Etta imagined him striding into her father’s study. He’d scowl at her other suitors and send them running, take her hand, and then lead her out of her father’s house and into the future.
Such fanciful thinking! No one would ever suspect quiet, obedient Henrietta Davis of having such far-fetched dreams. It would be best if she kept her head out of the clouds and her imagination tightly reined.
After all, George and William were fine gentlemen with immaculate manners. They’d done the right thing, first talking to her and planning on speaking to her father. But what had Gabriel done? Nothing. If she waited for something that never came, she’d sacrifice a home and family of her own.
“Oh, Gabriel,” Etta whispered to the empty conference room. “Come home and stake your claim on my heart. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to settle for second best. Come home, Gabriel. Come home.”
10
Gabriel paced the wooden platform of the Brenham depot, waiting to board the train to LaGrange. His bag rested at this feet and his ticket sat securely in his jacket’s breast pocket. Everything was ready for the trip. Everything except him.
Pain throbbed through his neck and shoulders as though he’d been carrying a heavy weight for too long and his queasy stomach rejected all thoughts of food. Ever since he’d walked back to the Brenham train station, his midsection had jumped like basket full of nervous crickets.
What was wrong with him? He’d almost grown accustomed to insomnia and the constant irritation that burrowed beneath his skin, but this sensation was different. He wasn’t ill; every other part of his body felt normal. But either a small animal was fighting to free itself from his belly, or something was wrong.
Could he be homesick? He hadn’t longed for home since his first weeks away at college. Even Army life hadn’t engendered more than a passing yearning to see his parents. But he was sick of grimy depots and crowded trains. The thought of another trip with nothing to do except read outdated copies of magazines or relive his disastrous battle experiences held no attraction. A few of his mother’s home-cooked meals would go a long way. Not to mention he could drop in on Etta.
Would Etta’s face light up when she saw him, or would his unexpected arrival be just another event in her busy day? He could always use her father’s horses as an excuse to visit, but did he need an excuse? Before he’d left, they were becoming good friends, and if he ever managed to restore his battered soul, he’d like to make her more than a friend.
Serenity and joy lived side-by-side in Etta’s soul. Although he’d known her all his life, he’d only recently discovered how amazing she was. When she’d prayed for him, his heart had lifted, as if sensing hope for the first time, and when he’d cried, she’d kissed his tears away. What would it take to win her love?
He’d been so sure about visiting the families of the men in his squad. He’d been wrong about that, too. But how could he forgive himself?
Gabriel made his way back to the ticket office. He’d have to wait until the next morning for a train to Burnet, but he didn’t mind. He had some powerful thinking and praying to do before he headed back to Etta.
****
Nora squealed with delight and drew Etta into a warm embrace. “I’m so glad you’ve come for a visit! It’s been much too long.”
Etta’s blonde, blue-eyed cousin smelled of bacon and baby powder. The bun on the back of her head was askew and several stray curls floated about her flushed face. The flowered apron tied around her tan housedress did little to hide the evidence of her pregnancy.
As a girl, Etta had often confessed the sin of envy during her daily prayers. Although she’d never meant her cousin any harm, Nora’s popularity had left Etta feeling as unwanted as an old shoe. Nora had been blessed with good looks and a naturally happy disposition, a combination that drew admirers and suitors. At parties, it had always been Nora in the center of the crowd while Etta sat quietly on the sidelines. Now in her mid-thirties, Nora’s beauty had softened, but her innate cheerfulness radiated like fireflies on a summer evening.
A small hand pushed against Etta’s thigh and a child’s body squeezed between her and Nora. “Momma!”
Nora laughed softly and squatted to speak to her son. “What is it, Nate?”
“Nen wants you.”
“She does? Did she tell you that?”
The three-year-old nodded solemnly and then looked up at Etta with wide blue eyes.
“Do you remember Cousin Etta?” Nora asked.
The boy shook his head and stepped behind his mother’s skirts.
Nora stood and winked at Etta. “It seems as though Nathan Jr. has developed a sudden case of shyness.”
Etta’s heart softened in sympathy. She knew quite a bit about the price of shyness. “That’s perfectly all right. But when he’s up to it, I have a toy for him.”
One blue eye peeked out from behind Nora. “Nen’s just a baby. She doesn’t play with toys.”
Etta withdrew a tin truck from her bag and held it out to Nathan. “Oh, this toy isn’t for a baby like Ellen. It’s for a big boy like you.”
Nora touched her son’s head. “What do you say, Nate?”
The boy snatched the toy from Etta’s hand and ran up the stairs. “Thank you,” he shouted across his shoulder.
Nora laughed and stretched her arm across Etta’s shoulders. “It was kind of you to bring him something, Etta, but it wasn’t necessary. I love it when you visit.”
Etta stepped over building blocks and tin soldiers as she followed her cousin through the parlor and toward the kitchen. “What’s the fun of visiting if I’m not allowed to spoil your children?”
“Spoil them too much and I’ll send them to live with you. Then you’ll be sorry.” Nora walked into the kitchen and went straight to her daughter. Ellen had slid into a near supine position in her high chair but that hadn’t stopped her from munching contentedly on a small slice of toast. “What happened, baby girl? Too much butter?”
The kitchen table was crowded with newspapers and dirty dishes. Etta sat in an empty chair next to the child and removed the beribboned straw boater that matched her green serge skirt. “How old is Ellen now?”
“Almost two,” Nora answered as she righted the baby. “Her birthday is in a few months.”
A wave of longing surged through Etta’s heart as she stroked the little girl’s downy head. If she allowed George’s or William’s pursuit to reach its logical conclusion, she could have her own child someday. “And the new one? Any idea when I’ll have a new baby cousin to spoil?”
“Not until August, thank you very much. I’m doing my best to get Ellen out of diapers before the new one arrives, but so far I’m not having much luck.” Nora poured coffee into two cups and set them on the table. “Now,” she said as she took her seat, “tell me how Uncle Henry’s doing.”
“Better,” Etta said as she stirred sugar into her coffee. “He’s taking his meals at the table, and he’s able to walk short distances with a cane. But he’s still having a hard time speaking, and he has limited movement in one arm.”
“I’m so glad he’s feeling better,” Nora said. “I should have come to help you, but…” Nora’s hand went to her abdomen and her gaze landed on the baby.
Etta rushed to reassure her. “It’s all
right. You’ve got more than enough to keep you busy here. Besides, you’ll make it up to me when you act as my chaperone tonight.”
Nora’s mouth curved into a sly grin. “Tell me everything! Why don’t you want to be alone with this gentleman? What’s his name again?”
“George Owens. He’s an accountant with the Worthington Firm here in Austin.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” Etta answered quickly in a high-pitched voice. But upon seeing Nora’s look of incredulity, her shoulders sagged and her voice took on a despondent tone. “Everything.”
Nora rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. “Oh, my! Now you really do have to tell me everything.”
Etta took a long drink of coffee in order to delay her response. “Have you ever met someone who made your skin crawl?”
Nora rolled her eyes. “No wonder you don’t like him.”
“But I can’t explain why. He’s not bad looking, he’s got a good job. He’s never stepped over the lines of propriety…”
“But you don’t like him.”
Etta sank back into her chair. “It’s no wonder I’m an old maid. A perfectly fine gentleman shows an interest in me, and I turn up my nose.”
“You’re far from being an old maid, Etta. This is a new century and women are no longer required to be married. Everyone says we’ll have the vote next year. Don’t tell me times aren’t changing.”
“Maybe but I’m not changing with them. Ever since Papa’s illness, I’ve been taking over his duties at the bank. I may know a lot about banking, but I wasn’t raised to fight in a man’s world.”
Nora frowned over her cup. “Who have you been fighting?”
Etta tilted her head from one side to the other. “Not fighting exactly. It’s more like…like standing up for myself.”
“Sounds to me as if you’ve been busy. Who’s been challenging you?”
“Carl.”
“Aunt Catherine’s brother?” Nora’s shock was obvious. “I’ve only met him a few times, but he seemed harmless.”
Etta raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Uncle Carl doesn’t think I should be doing Papa’s work.”
“Don’t tell me he wants the job.”
Etta nodded. “Sometimes I think I should just give in and stay home with Papa. I couldn’t even refuse George Owens’s invitation to the pictures.”
“Some men can be mighty persuasive, but you’ll have to learn to say no if you don’t want his attentions.”
“But how does one say no without being cruel? I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Let’s practice.” Nora pulled a strand of loose hair across her upper lip and deepened her voice. “Etta, my dear, would you like to spend the evening with me?”
This was why Nora had always been so popular. She could cheer up Medusa. “Who are you supposed to be?” Etta asked with a grin.
“Mr. Not-right-for-you. Now, as I was saying, would you like to spend the evening with me?”
“No, thank you.”
Nora perched her fist on her hip and leaned back in feigned shock. “How can you turn me down? I make a thousand dollars a year!”
“I’m sure there’s another woman who would make a better match for you than I.”
“But none as lovely as you!” Nora patted Etta’s hand the way one would pat a child’s head. “Come now, my dear, you simply must allow me to escort you to the dance.”
“No, thank you.”
“What? Why, any woman in her right mind would jump at the chance to be seen on my arm. I’ll call for you at seven.”
“I don’t wish to go with you, Mr. Not-right-for-me.”
Nora harrumphed with indignation. “Well, I never!”
Etta dissolved into laughter, and Nora brushed her hair away from her face. “You didn’t seem to have a problem saying no that time,” she said in her normal voice.
“Maybe you can help me practice tonight.”
“Fine with me.” Nora stood, removed Ellen from the high chair, and perched the baby on her hip. “I hope your gentleman takes us to see the new Harold Lloyd picture. I think he’s funnier than Chaplin.”
If Etta had her way, George would cancel his plans, and she and Nora would go to the pictures alone. “Is your mother coming to sit with the children while we go out?”
“No. She and Dad went to Oklahoma City to see his sister. Nathan will watch them.”
Etta didn’t know Nora’s husband well, but caring for small children was women’s work. “Are you sure your husband won’t mind?”
Nora cleaned her daughter’s face with a damp cloth. “They’re his children, too, Etta. He’s capable of feeding them, cleaning them, and putting them to bed. Just because the railroad keeps him busy six days a week doesn’t mean it’s all fun and games around here. It will do him good to be reminded of just how much work I do.”
Etta bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t meant to kick the hornet’s nest hidden in Nora’s marriage.
The baby let out a squeal of laughter. Nora wiped the child’s hands. “Do you want to go to the moving pictures, baby girl? Someday I’ll take you and your brother.”
Etta breathed a sigh of relief.
Nora’s pique had evaporated as soon as she’d spoken to the baby. Nora stroked her daughter’s blonde ringlets and kissed her. “Now let’s go upstairs and see what Nate’s up to. Then you can show me what you’re planning to wear tonight.”
Etta glanced at the dirty pots and pans piled on the counters. Was Nora going to simply leave the greasy mess? “You go on and I’ll…”
Nora stopped in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “You’ll what?”
Time spent with children was obviously more important to Nora than a spotless kitchen. “Oh, never mind.” Etta carried her cup to the sink. When Nora got around to cleaning, then Etta would lend a hand. “I brought a new dress for Ellen. I hope you like it.”
“There you go again,” Nora said as she carried the baby up the stairs. “Spoiling must come second-nature to you.”
****
It was neither Buster Keaton nor Charlie Chaplin showing at The Majestic Theater that night. Instead, Etta sat between Nora and George and watched a melodramatic retelling of a young girl who pined for the man who’d gone off to fight in the Great War.
Nora was thoroughly entranced by the moving picture, never once moving her gaze from the screen even when Etta nudged her foot to get her attention. Nora was supposed to be acting as chaperone, and no chaperone worth her salt would allow George to put his arm around Etta’s shoulders and pull her close.
To his credit, George didn’t objected to Etta’s cousin accompanying them. He played the role of a gentleman until the theater lights dimmed. Then, when Nora no longer kept her gaze on him, he kissed Etta’s cheek and whispered, “I can’t wait until your family trusts me enough to let you out without a chaperone.”
Etta successfully fought the urge to wipe her cheek but succumbed to an uncontrollable sneezing fit brought about by George’s cologne. After three sneezes in a row, she pushed him back and wiped her nose with the linen handkerchief she always carried. “Thank you for understanding about Nora. I suppose it seems a bit old-fashioned.”
“Can’t blame your father for wanting to protect his daughter. Besides, I’m a patient man. I’ll earn your father’s confidence soon enough.”
The piano player sounded an attention-getting flourish, and the picture began.
George slid his right arm across her shoulders, pulled her close, and joined his hand with hers.
Etta kept the handkerchief close at hand but was spared any further sneezing. She worked her way out of George’s proprietary hold and tried to focus on the screen.
An overly expressive young actress with impractical long, dark hair yearned for the man who’d gone to war. Despite the star’s exaggerated portrayal, Etta understood the emotions. She may not have pined for Gabriel while he’d been in the Army, but now her heart ached for h
im. How much longer until he came home? Would he be glad to see her, or would they be strangers? So much had been left unsaid.
If Etta’s secret dreams came true, Gabriel would return fully healed and happy. He’d pull her into his arms, confess his undying love, and they’d walk hand in hand toward their future. Etta tingled from want of her first kiss. So many times she’d secretly watched Gabriel as he talked or cared for the horses. His mouth was full and strong, and the thought of his lips on hers filled her stomach with butterflies.
Etta shook her head to erase the images. She was a practical-headed businesswoman with an embezzler to find. Girlish dreams of love and happily ever after had no place in her world.
Nora sniffled and reached for Etta’s handkerchief. “These sad stories do it to me every time,” she whispered, wiping away her tears.
Etta shifted her concentration to the story unfolding on the screen. One of the young men had died in battle. His sweetheart collapsed when she heard the news. Did Gabriel have to deal with those kinds of reactions when he visited the families of his fallen comrades?
For the hundredth time, Etta wished she’d asked Gabriel to write or telephone before he’d left. If only she could be sure he was all right. If only…
With a sigh of resignation, Etta’s shoulders slumped along with her mood. The reality of Gabriel returning to Burnet with the intention of marrying her was unlikely. She’d be better off if she simply allowed one of her new suitors to court her. She could probably persuade George to lessen his cologne usage, and given enough time, she might even be able to overcome her resistance to him.
A Thousand Little Blessings Page 17