“All right, you’ve convinced me.” Verity hooked her arm through Hazel’s and the two started down the sidewalk together. “I’ll come by your shop tomorrow and take a look at the fabric and pattern you’re using for the dress.”
If she were to ever realize her dream of someday owning a millinery shop, she would definitely have to learn to create hats to order. Might as well start now.
But at the moment her thoughts were not entirely on hats. Part of her mind was focused on the fact that when she and Hazel turned on Second Street, neither Mr. Cooper nor the Ortolon ladies were in sight. Had they separated at Mr. Cooper’s shop?
Or had they continued on to the boardinghouse together?
Chapter Nine
Nate turned onto Schoolhouse Road, Beans trotting at his heels. He wasn’t sure why he’d invited Mrs. Leggett and her daughter to join him, especially after he’d promised himself to minimize his contact with her. He was already pushing matters by working with the choir and now with her children’s program.
He could tell himself he’d only intended to invite Joy, but that would be a lie. He knew good and well inviting Joy would also mean he was inviting Joy’s mother.
Beans’s sudden yip brought him back to the present. The dog bounded away from him toward the schoolyard. Joy was already there, waiting on him. As was her mother.
Despite his resolve to remain merely polite, his pulse kicked up a notch. Okay, so he was attracted to her. But that didn’t mean he had to do anything about it. If there was one thing the past nine years had taught him, it was to curb his impulsiveness. This was just a simple outing to give Joy an opportunity to play with Beans—nothing more.
Of course it was.
By the time he reached the schoolyard proper, Joy and Beans were already playing near the teeter-totter. Mrs. Leggett stood in front of the schoolhouse steps.
“Am I late?” he asked by way of greeting.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid Joy was getting impatient so we came out a bit early.” She waved behind her toward the steps. “Shall we sit?”
He nodded and swept a hand, indicating she should precede him. She took her seat and fussily arranged her skirt, then looked up at him. “Aren’t you going to sit, as well?”
Nate shook his head, thinking it best to maintain his distance. “I prefer to stand.”
She frowned. “But your foot—”
“Is getting better every day. And don’t worry, I’m not putting much weight on it.” Ready to change the subject, he glanced toward the other members of their party. “It appears Joy and Beans are having a grand time.”
She followed his gaze with her own. “Thank you so much for indulging Joy this way. I know you didn’t have to include her in this outing.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable as always with her gratitude. “It’s just a walk I was planning to take, anyway.”
“Still, it was a nice thing to do.” She brushed at her skirt. “Did you enjoy your lunch with your friends?”
There was something odd about her tone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Was she upset that he hadn’t accepted her invitation? More to the point, how should he respond to her question? He hadn’t lied to her earlier, but he’d done his best to mislead her so he could refuse her invitation without hurting her feelings. Truth was, he had eaten alone in his own apartment. He chose his words carefully. “It’s always good to spend time with friends.”
She looked at him as if she knew he hadn’t really answered her question, but then nodded. “It is.” Then she shifted and sat up straighter. “Perhaps now would be a good time to discuss the children’s program in more detail.”
Good, something neutral to discuss. “Of course. What size choir will you have?”
“I’m not certain yet—Janell, the schoolteacher, is going to cast her play tomorrow so she won’t know for certain which children will participate in the choir until then. I’m meeting with her and the children at the end of the school day so I can meet them all. But Janell has already told me she anticipates there will be a dozen or so.”
“That’s a nice size. I assume they will be of various ages.”
“Yes, including some children who are not yet school-age.” She waved toward her daughter. “Joy for one. And at least two other children about her age—maybe three.”
“Won’t that be challenging?”
She grinned, not at all daunted. “Indeed it will.” Then she raised her brow. “Does that make you want to back out?”
“Not at all.” Truth be told, he was actually looking forward to it. “So how many songs will be on the program and how long do we have to put it all together?”
“I think three songs will make for a good program. And we have three weeks.”
It seemed she wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Of course, if anyone could pull this off, it was her. “So yesterday when we talked about this we decided the songs needed to be simple enough for four-and five-year-olds to learn, but interesting enough for the older children to not feel like it’s beneath them. Did you come up with any songs that met those criteria?”
“I thought we’d start with something simple that most of them already know, ‘Jesus Loves Me.’ Do you know how to play that?”
“I haven’t played it before, but I’m familiar with it. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good.” She cut a quick glance toward her daughter, then turned back to him. “Another song I thought of that might work with this group is ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’ I know it’s very simple, but if we have them perform it as a round, and add some hand motions with it, the older kids might find it challenging enough to be fun. What do you think?”
He nodded. “I think it will work. And since that one doesn’t require a piano, I can help you with the rounds.”
She nodded absently, her mind already seeming to move ahead. “I still need to figure out a third song. You don’t have any suggestions by any chance?”
Nate hesitated. Then he decided that since she’d asked his opinion, that’s what she’d get. “How about ‘Down in the Valley to Pray’? It’s easily divided into parts and simple enough for a children’s choir. It can also be done a cappella.”
A small frown line appeared between her eyes and he thought for a moment she was trying to find a polite way to tell him no. Then she lifted a hand, palm upward. “I’m afraid I don’t know that one. Can you sing it for me?”
Sing it? On his own? That was definitely not something he was comfortable doing. “If you’re not familiar with it, then perhaps we should go with something else.”
“Oh, but you made it sound so intriguing. And I always love learning new songs.” Then she tilted her head and gave him that challenging grin he found so irresistible. “You’re not afraid to sing it, are you?”
“Afraid? No.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “I just know my own limitations and don’t want to assault your ears with my braying.”
She cast a watchful eye Joy’s way again, then waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I’ve heard you sing in church, remember? And I expect you to set a good example for the children. So you might as well get used to singing out with confidence.”
He frowned and slid his fingers through his hair. Then, deciding he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this, he gave in and sang the first verse and the chorus. When he was finished, he rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never done that before, sang solo for someone, not even Susanna. It made him feel more vulnerable, more exposed, than he liked.
But Mrs. Leggett was beaming at him approvingly. “What a lovely song!” She placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you so much for sharing it with me.”
Everything inside him seemed to still for a heartbeat, as if wanting to soak in that unexpected touch. What was it about this woman that affected him so strongly? He
fought to keep his expression in check and maintain an easy smile.
But either he failed or she felt something, too, because her expression shifted just the tiniest bit. Her eyes darkened and her breathing seemed to quicken. For a moment it felt as if something flowed between them at that point of contact. Then she abruptly withdrew her hand and the feeling was gone.
Averting her gaze, she called out to her daughter. “Joy, move away from the street.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the little girl responded with a wave. Mrs. Leggett kept her gaze on her daughter until the child had complied, which gave him time to collect himself.
When she turned back to him, her expression was once again serene. Had she felt what he felt?
“Where did you learn that song?” she asked.
In prison from a fellow inmate known only as Preacher. But he couldn’t tell her that. “From an acquaintance. It was his favorite hymn.” Hedging his answers like this felt as bad as lying.
“Well, I can certainly see why. You said it could be divided?”
He nodded. “You just repeat the whole thing four more times, replacing the word father in the chorus with mother, brother, sister and sinner respectively on each pass.”
“The children are going to love it and so will their parents when they hear it. Thank you so much for singing it for me.”
“Look.” Joy’s hail interrupted them. “I’ve taught Beans a trick.”
Mrs. Leggett rose to go admire Joy and Beans’s accomplishment and he slowly followed. Perhaps he should come clean, tell her the whole story of his past. It would solve the problem of her sending those admiring glances his way.
But could he bear to see her look at him with loathing?
* * *
Verity held firmly on to Joy’s hand as they made their way to Hazel’s dress shop the next morning. She had to admit, knowing she would be passing Mr. Cooper’s shop to reach Hazel’s added a certain zest to the trip.
Mr. Cooper wasn’t out on the sidewalk this morning, but the door to his shop was already open. He looked up from his workbench as they passed, giving them a smile.
Joy tugged on her hand. “Can I go visit Beans?”
“Maybe after we get finished at Miss Hazel’s. In the meantime, you can visit with Buttons.”
That seemed to mollify the child and she continued on without further resistance.
“There you are,” Hazel said by way of greeting.
Verity nodded as Joy immediately sought out the feline. “We had a patient at the clinic first thing this morning so I was a little late heading out.” She closed the shop door behind her, unwilling to trust her daughter to remain inside.
“Nothing serious I hope.”
“Turned out to be just a bad case of indigestion.” Verity set her drawstring purse on the counter. “Now, let’s see this material you have picked out for Mrs. Sanders’s dress.”
Hazel drew out a bolt of a deep orange fabric shot through with delicate stripes of yellow. As she fingered the soft material, Verity felt her mind playing with several possibilities. “You said this is for the festival’s opening ceremonies?”
“It is.”
Studying the fabric and thinking of the woman herself, Verity nodded. “I believe I can come up with something that will look fetching and that she’ll like. Can you reserve about a half yard of this that I can use for trim?”
“Of course.”
“And if you have some netting in this shade of yellow, I’ll need some of it, as well.”
“Just let me know what else you’ll be needing and I’ll get it gathered up. And of course I’ll bill Eula Fay for it.”
“I’ll stop by her place and discuss some ideas with her before I get started, but I already have a few thoughts as to what I’d like to do.”
Another customer walked in and Verity stepped back to let Hazel conduct business. But rather than taking her leave, she found herself studying some of the bolts of fabric on display. There was one in particular that caught her eye. It was a muted blue, a hazy-sky kind of color, just the shade she loved. She fingered the fabric and liked the suppleness of it, as well.
“That would look lovely on you.”
Verity dropped the fabric guiltily. Then had second thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day, and my black dress is getting a bit worn. Perhaps a new Sunday dress wouldn’t be amiss.”
Hazel’s smile widened. “Well, it’s about time.” Before Verity could stop her, she grabbed up the bolt and carried it to her worktable. “And I have the perfect pattern in mind.”
“Whoa.” Verity held up a hand. “I said perhaps—I haven’t made up my mind yet. And this fabric is much too fancy for me. I would need to choose something a bit more conservative.”
“Nonsense. If you’ve gotten far enough in your thinking to say it out loud, then you’re definitely ready. And this fabric is perfect. Now, I insist you let me make this for you.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I can take care of this. Besides, I have another project for you.”
“What’s that?”
“The children’s choir I’m forming for the Founders’ Day Festival, I don’t want them or their parents to worry about finding new clothing. I was thinking that if I could provide some smocks for each of them, sort of like short, simple choir robes, that might sort of even things out for everyone.”
“Of course. I can get a bolt of simple, inexpensive fabric and whip something like that up in no time.”
“Actually, I thought we might get some of the members of the Ladies Auxiliary to help with the stitching if you can do the cutting and oversee their work. I know Aunt Betty was asking how she might help, and I’m sure there are other ladies who feel the same way.”
Hazel grinned. “Even better.”
“Good. I’ll ask Aunt Betty to round up some volunteers and report to you.” She retrieved her purse. “I’ll find out which children will be involved this afternoon so I can give you a head count and rough sizes after that. And of course I’ll pay for the fabric.”
Hazel waved that offer aside. “Don’t worry about that. I can cover it, especially since I won’t be doing all the sewing.” She put a finger to her chin. “Now, about this new dress of yours?”
“Let me think about it.”
“Don’t think about it too long. I’m going to set this fabric behind the counter for you so it will be there whenever you get ready.”
Verity tried to tell her friend not to bother but finally gave up. Whenever Hazel got something in her head, it was difficult to dissuade her. “Come along, Joy. Time to go. Tell Buttons and Miss Hazel goodbye.”
Joy popped up and said her goodbyes. Then she took hold of Verity’s hand. “Can we go see Beans now?”
“Beans?” Hazel raised a brow in question.
“It’s Mr. Cooper’s dog,” Joy volunteered. “I taught him a new trick when Mama and me visited them in the schoolyard yesterday.”
“You did?” She turned to Verity. “And why didn’t you tell me about this little expedition? I want details.”
Verity shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell—Mr. Cooper just allowed Joy to play with his dog yesterday. Now, if you’ll excuse us, it’s time for us to go.”
Verity breezed out the door with head held high, perfectly aware that Hazel was not at all satisfied with that explanation.
But thoughts of her friend faded quickly, replaced by a mood-lifting touch of anticipation at the thought of seeing Mr. Cooper again. However, when she and Joy stepped through the doorway of his shop, she came to an abrupt stop. Standing there, talking to Mr. Cooper with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, was Belva Ortolon.
Chapter Ten
Joy immediately rushed forward to greet Beans, drawing Mr. Cooper’s and Belva’s attention.
Verity pasted her smile back on and stepped forward. There was no reason for her to give in to that stab of jealousy. She and Mr. Cooper were merely friends, nothing more. If he and Belva were forming some sort of attachment, well, she was happy for them. Of course.
With that not-quite-true thought firmly in mind, she waved a hand. “Hello. Don’t let me interrupt you. We just stopped in for a minute so Joy could say a quick hello to Beans.”
Belva shook her head, her cheerful demeanor never faltering. “Oh, you weren’t interrupting anything—I was ordering a saddle from Mr. Cooper, but we were done.”
Ordering a saddle? As far as Verity knew, Belva didn’t own a horse. But again, that was none of her business.
“Besides,” Belva continued, “you’re just the person I need to see.”
Verity took a heartbeat to absorb this unexpected statement. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was just congratulating Mr. Cooper here on his piano playing Sunday—wasn’t it lovely?” She barely waited for Verity’s bemused nod before continuing on. “Anyway, I mentioned that I had been thinking about joining the choir and he told me to stop thinking about it and just do it. So, since you’re the choir director, I figure you would be the one to talk to.”
Why the sudden interest in joining the choir? Belva had been in town for four months and this was the first time she’d mentioned it. Could it have anything to do with Mr. Cooper’s involvement?
Not that that was either here or there. “Anyone with an interest is welcome to join,” she answered with a smile she hoped was welcoming. “We practice every Saturday at four o’clock.”
She hesitated a moment before issuing the second invitation, then chided herself for such churlishness. “And several us get together an hour earlier at the Blue Bottle for tea and conversation. You’d be most welcome to join us there as well, if you like. It’s strictly optional.” And since Constance had left this morning for her new adventure back east, there was an empty spot at the table.
“Oh, how lovely. Thank you.”
Second Chance Hero Page 10