Cora felt Jess’s body stiffen in the chair next to her. “Well, Sue . . . I guess the thought never occurred to me to, uh . . . give her something, but I wish I had.”
“Mama says wishing and doing are two different things, ain’t that right, Mama?”
Annabelle nodded helplessly.
Cora wondered whether it would have mattered to her if Jess had given her flowers.
Sue swung back to Caleb, tossing her braids. “I like you a lot,” she intoned. “But I have a question—are you a good man or a bad man?”
There was a sudden uncomfortable silence at the table. It was obvious to Cora that Sue had overheard her parents talking about the boy.
Caleb’s fork clattered to his plate. “Well . . . I—” His face was scarlet.
Jess spoke up. “Sue, I don’t know what you heard, but everyone deserves a second chance, and that includes Caleb. And I, for one, intend to see that he gets it.”
Annabelle’s face turned bright red. “Sue, your manners are sorely lacking. I’m going to ask you to leave the table if you don’t close your mouth except to eat!”
“Yes, Mama.” Sue cast her long lashes down at her plate.
Annabelle stood. “Anyone ready for that huckleberry cobbler now?”
Cora knew it would probably be a long while before Annabelle and Silas delivered any more dinner invitations to them. She also knew that it was bound to be a quiet ride home that night.
16
Greta had enjoyed dinner with the Meads and their children until Sue started her yammering about porcelain dolls. She was beginning to think that Zach wasn’t attracted to her for her mind. The idea made her stomach churn.
Once they were back in their room, she and Cora readied for bed. Cora had propped up on pillows to read her Bible, but moments later her chin fell against her chest in sound sleep. It had been a long day, but Greta was restless, so she slid out of bed, knelt down at her trunk, and quietly lifted the lid so as not to disturb Cora.
She reached into the corner and pulled out letters tied with blue ribbon. Her heart caught in her throat as she untied the ribbon and removed a letter. Running a shaking finger across her name on the envelope, she felt tears begin to sting her eyes. Oh, Bryan . . . how I still miss you after all this time. She opened the letter and read his words of love and the plans he had been making for them. Catharine had told her that first loves are profound, and Greta knew it to be true. She fingered the gold locket around her neck and stifled a sob in the sleeve of her nightgown.
“Greta?” Cora struggled to sit up. “I must have dropped off to sleep. Were you crying?”
Greta got up and climbed back into bed. “I’m sorry I disturbed you,” she said, sniffing. “You looked so peaceful.”
“Whatever is wrong?” Cora asked as she adjusted the covers around herself. “What do you have there?”
“I was reading Bryan’s last letter to me . . . It’s so hard to believe even after all this time that he’s gone.”
“May I?” Cora asked and pointed to the envelope.
Greta handed her the envelope and waited, watching her.
Cora studied the outside of the envelope. “Greta, have you ever noticed that Bryan’s handwriting is a lot like Jess’s?”
Greta shook her head. “No, I haven’t. So?” She gave her friend a quizzical look.
Cora handed it back to her. “Mmm . . . I’m not sure . . . It’s just that I noticed after watching Jess write up orders and seeing Bryan’s handwriting now. They do have the same last names too. Maybe they’re distant cousins.”
“I think it’s just coincidence, Cora. Bryan lived in Wyoming, and I don’t remember him mentioning Colorado.” She shrugged. “Besides, I asked them at supper if they had any cousins, remember?”
“I remember. Still . . . how long did you know him before he died?”
She thought back to the spring when she’d met him. “I think it was only about four months. I guess there was a lot about him I never had a chance to learn.”
“I’m so sorry it ended that way.” Cora patted her on the arm. “I’m sure the Lord has plans for you. And Zach seems taken with you. Doesn’t that give you something to think about with hope?”
Greta knew Cora was sincere, and maybe she was right. She should let the past go, but she would never forget how Bryan had made her feel. “Cora . . . I don’t know . . . tonight after Sue’s questions at supper, I felt like he only sees me as a pretty china doll. I’m not sure I want to be married at all anymore.”
Cora laughed softly. “You’re just getting cold feet. That Sue certainly has a gift for talking straight. I think she meant it as a compliment, but somehow she is aware at her young age that the outward appearance is not the most important. Her parents have taught her well. I don’t know what Zach really thinks—only he knows.”
Greta rose and wrapped the ribbon back around the stack of letters. “I’m suddenly too tired to give it any more thought.”
As she placed the packet in the trunk, her hand touched a hard object. She remembered instantly what it was. It was the Blue Willow cake knife that Peter had given her for her hope chest. She carefully unwrapped the piece of muslin, and fond memories of her family in Wyoming flooded her thoughts. Suddenly she was lonely for them.
“What do you have there?” Cora peered over at her.
Greta rose, carrying the cake knife, and sat down on the edge of her bed. “It’s a Blue Willow cake knife that my brother-in-law, Peter, gave me for when I marry.” She held it out for Cora to see.
“My! It’s very pretty,” she said, admiring it. She turned it over as she inspected the design. “How very sweet.”
“Yes, that’s Peter. A sweet, kind man. He gave a set of Blue Willow china to my sister when he was trying to win her back.” When Cora gave her a questioning look, Greta quickly told her about Catharine and Peter’s fight after they were married, the romantic resolution at the railroad depot, and how Peter described each piece of china and what they represented. Cora listened with tears in her eyes.
“She’s so lucky to have found true love.” Cora sniffed, then rearranged her covers, snuggling down under the heavy quilt.
“They are very happy, and now I have a niece and a nephew—twins. But it took the mighty arm of God working in their lives to get things right.”
“Let’s hope we won’t need a knock on the head from the Lord.” Cora laughed.
“Do you know the legend of the Blue Willow china?”
A crease formed between Cora’s eyebrows. “I’m afraid I don’t,” she said.
“Legend has it that a wealthy Mandarin merchant had a lovely daughter who’d fallen in love with her father’s assistant. Her father was angry because they weren’t of the same social class, so he arranged for her to marry a duke. The duke arrived bearing jewels as a gift, and the wedding was supposed to take place the day the blossoms fell from the willow tree.” She paused, watching Cora’s growing interest, and smiled. “The night before the wedding, the assistant slipped into the palace, disguised as a servant. The lovers escaped with the jewels, running over the bridge that you see on the design here. They lived happily for many years on a secluded island. One day, the duke learned of their retreat and sent soldiers to capture the two lovers and put them to death. The gods felt sorry for them and transformed them into the pair of doves.”
“What a bittersweet story,” Cora whispered. “But isn’t it wonderful that we have a true God who one day will transform us with a new heavenly body?”
Greta nodded. “Right you are.” She wrapped the knife and placed it back in the trunk. One day, somehow she would have more Blue Willow like her mother and Catharine did.
“Why don’t we shut out the light and get some rest. We’ll both feel better in the morning. I think Agnes will be coming in for a dress fitting.” Cora rolled her eyes, making Greta laugh.
“In that case, I need my beauty rest.” Greta batted her eyes, then hopped back into bed, drawing the covers up to h
er chin. The room was dark save for a sliver of moonlight casting a streak across the room. After a few minutes, she said, “Cora, thanks for being a good friend. I really wish you and Jess much happiness.”
“Thank you. I wish the same for you and Zach . . .” Cora’s voice trailed off, and soon Greta heard her even breathing and knew Cora was asleep.
What if Cora doesn’t marry Jess for some reason? Well, could that mean . . . ? She chided herself. Don’t be foolish. Of course Cora would marry Jess—he only had eyes for her anyway.
Jess fumed. Chen from the Chinese laundry had delivered a stack of aprons as soon as Jess opened the door for business this morning. Not that he was mad at Chen—far from it. He was a humble, hardworking man. But Jess knew he hadn’t sent out aprons to be laundered, and Zach didn’t care if they were even clean. So that left only one person—Greta! Just like everything else, she did things without asking him first. Like the order form she’d somehow left on the counter for his approval. The list included new fabric, thread, notions, and merchandise like toys and books for Christmas. Items Jess would never consider buying. Who needed all that stuff in the first place? He surely didn’t, and he would tell her so. Things like that cost money. In a few short days, Greta almost acted as if she owned the mercantile!
He took a swig of his coffee, ruminating. Ever since Zach had given flowers to Greta, something about it had stuck in his craw and he’d felt slightly irritated. First, because he’d not thought of doing something similar for sweet Cora, and second, because Sue had put him on the spot last night by pointing that fact out in front of everyone.
He was kidding himself. He examined his feelings and knew the truth was that he was jealous that he hadn’t given the flowers to Greta. She’d seemed delighted—and he had to admit they made a handsome couple. Greta with her pale skin and a dash of freckles, and those startlingly blue eyes and blonde hair. Zach with his rugged good looks and charming personality. Funny . . . he rarely compared himself with his brother, but he did always think his brother was better looking.
He sighed and braced himself as the door swung open and the two chattering ladies hastened inside. Fresh rains brought blowing wind, whipping their skirts about and silhouetting their slender forms.
“Good morning, Jess. Lovely, brisk day out, isn’t it?” Cora greeted him with her usual cheerful smile.
“It is that. I rather enjoy the autumn-like weather. Just wish it’d last longer before the winter moves in to stay.” He took her coat and waited while Greta removed hers.
His eyes swept over Cora’s neat print dress and her hair pinned in a bun at the nape of her slender neck. She was attractive and always looked perfect, not a curl out of place, wearing a freshly ironed dress but ready to work. Then Jess looked at the strong-willed Greta in a serviceable navy dress, her usual braids pinned tightly against her scalp. That should give anyone a headache, he thought. Chuckling inwardly, he wondered if that was the reason she darted about in her no-nonsense fashion, completing tasks with lightning speed that normally took him weeks. He wondered what she would look like in a sky-blue gown to match her eyes, or if, for that matter, she had any pretty dresses. Zach would need to see to it that she had one or two pretty gowns.
“I trust you slept well?” Cora asked. Her dark eyes held his.
Should he kiss her good morning? After all, she was going to be his bride, right? He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I did, and you look as fresh as a columbine after the rain.” Jess felt a little foolish, but he was determined to take his cue from his brother, who apparently knew how to woo a woman with the proper words. That’s what he’d done in his infamous letters.
Cora seemed mildly surprised at his actions. Jess took Greta’s coat and made a hasty retreat to hang up both coats, then returned with the starched aprons.
Greta’s face was unreadable as she greeted him with a nod. “Where’s Zach this morning?”
“He took an early morning ride out to his property. Seems he suddenly wants to look for a site to build a cabin. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?” he teased, leaning down to lift a box.
Greta colored slightly, donning her apron over her dress. “We did talk about it last night. He wants to be married right away.”
Cora stopped tying her apron strings, and Jess nearly dropped the box as he straightened. “Is that so?” His brother was wasting no time. Did he already feel real affection for Greta? Zach, the guy who once wasn’t even considering marriage? My, my, how swiftly he’s changed since Greta arrived.
“Yes. There really is no reason to wait, is there?” Greta’s eyes latched on to his.
Jess stood holding the box until his arms began to cramp. Cora walked off, humming a tune to herself, while Greta straightened the fabric table.
“I . . . guess there isn’t,” Jess said. What else could he say? “By the way, I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to me before filling out that huge order you expect me to buy.”
“What is there to talk about? Those are things necessary for customers, and I’d like to dress the front window with some fall items—you know, catch someone’s eye as they walk past.” She picked up the list from the counter. “Oh, and the Christmas items should be ordered now in plenty of time to arrive before December.”
Jess finally set the heavy box down, feeling a crick in his neck. “Greta, that all costs a lot of money. I usually have the customer tell me what they want to order. It’s been working out just fine.”
“But don’t you see—if you display some of the merchandise, you’ll sell more than waiting for them to order from the catalog.” She just wouldn’t give up, which only increased Jess’s ire. “Especially with the women. You’ll make a tidy profit that will outweigh the initial spending.”
“Now wait just a doggone minute,” he sputtered. The bell jangled over the store’s entrance, halting their conversation. Cole nodded to Cora as he strolled past her, heading straight to Greta.
“How’re you folks doing this morning?” He swept off his Stetson, shooting Greta a wide grin. “I thought I’d better stop back by and see if you’ve decided to stay in Central City or not.”
Jess watched as Greta’s temperament changed instantly from efficient store clerk to blushing femininity—all soft and winsome smiles. Why did she exasperate him so much? Why couldn’t she be more like Cora—quiet, unassuming, and amicable?
“Hello, Cole. I’m still here and beginning to get to know a few people. Everyone has been so nice.”
“Good! Just remember, if you decide you’re not going to marry one of the brothers, then I’d like a chance to be next in line.”
“Don’t think you’ll get that chance, Cole. Seems as though Zach and Greta are planning to be married soon,” Jess informed him.
Cole’s flirting demeanor changed swiftly, and his expression went flat. “In that case, I’ll wish you congratulations, but I still want a chance to spin you around the floor at Agnes’s party.”
“Thank you,” Greta murmured. “I think I can spare at least one dance with you.”
He smiled broadly, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I’ll just be on my way. But I should warn you, Agnes is coming over here soon,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m ready,” Greta said, turning to walk with him toward the door.
“Jess knows she can be a little tough to handle at times. I know my sister, but don’t let her get away with anything.” Cole paused, donning his hat. A knowing look passed between Jess and Cole.
Jess laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have to concern yourself with that where Greta’s concerned.”
She flashed him an annoyed look, then smiled up at Cole. “We’re looking forward to the barbecue all the same,” she said as they reached the door.
“Well . . . be seeing you around then.” Cole tipped his hat, giving her a wink. He nodded to Jess. “I’ll see you later, Jess. Good day.”
Cole’s flirting stuck in Jess’s craw, but he didn’t take him too se
riously. They’d been friends long enough for him to know that Cole loved to flirt with a pretty girl.
As soon as he was gone, Cora announced that she was going to go visit Martha Carey, a miner’s wife. “Annabelle told me Martha’s husband had an injured leg from a mining accident, so I thought I’d pay her a short visit if you don’t mind, Jess.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. The Careys haven’t lived here very long. They’re having a hard go of it from what I hear.”
“I found some piece goods of flannel that perhaps she can use for her new baby,” she said, indicating a soft blue fabric in her hand. “I’ll pay for it, Jess. Oh—” She reached into her dress pocket and handed him a knife. “Would you wrap this up and add it to my bill as well?”
“Now what in the world would you be needing that for?” Jess asked, taking the knife.
“I’ll explain later, but right now I need to go.”
“Are you walking? Do they live outside town?” Greta wanted to know.
“Yes, I’ll walk. It’s just a mile or so, and it’s a fine day to get some exercise. The family seems to be in need of assistance, according to Annabelle, and I’d like to help.” Cora grabbed her coat and bonnet from their hook and slipped them on.
Jess opened the door for her. “You sure you want to walk that far alone? I can’t leave the store right now.”
Cora nodded. “I’ll be fine, and the brisk air will do me good. Greta, good luck with Agnes, if she arrives before I return.”
Greta giggled. “I can handle Miss High and Mighty, never fear.”
Jess was sure that was an accurate statement. He watched Greta open Rascal’s crate and scoop up the small dog, which licked her cheeks and hands while she nuzzled its fluffy neck. An odd thought of how it would feel to cuddle with her ran through his brain.
17
The cool morning temperature quickly warmed as the sun climbed higher in the clear, cloudless sky. Cora’s back was beginning to feel warm by the time she walked past the shops and stepped off the boardwalk to follow the dirt road leading to Martha Carey’s home. Clad in sensible shoes for walking, she breathed deeply of the fresh scent of surrounding juniper and pines. Soon she was aware of how labored her breathing had become on the incline to a row of houses stretched out like miniatures on the ledge above.
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