Lacy: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Pendleton Petticoats Book 5)

by Shanna Hatfield

  At a noise overhead, Grant looked up and caught a glimpse of his mother’s maid, Betty, peering over the upstairs railing.

  “Evening, Betty.” Grant’s voice resumed a normal tone and he tipped his hat to the long-suffering woman who somehow managed to put up with his mother day after day, year after year. In his opinion, she ought to receive some sort of medal for valor. “There’s plenty of food in the kitchen if you’d like to find something for you and Mother. I’m going out and don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Betty nodded her head then disappeared while Imogene lurched to her feet and tugged at Grant’s arm when he opened the front door. “Please, son, don’t leave now. I’m sorry. Stay for dinner and we’ll work this out.”

  “No, Mother, I won’t stay. I need to find Miss Williams and my horse. In all that transpired, I left him in front of Ilsa’s shop.”

  Without saying another word, Grant shook off her arm and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him for good measure.

  In need of time to calm down, he walked back downtown to Ilsa’s shop. When he opened the door, Ilsa glanced up at him from her sewing machine and gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “My sincere apologies for the scene we created in front of your store and for the ugly things you heard my mother say.” Grant nervously twirled his hat in his hands as Ilsa stood and walked over to him.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Grant. You were as surprised as anyone to see your mother and certainly by what she said. Is she at your house, or did you stuff her in a gunnysack and tie her to a freighter’s wagon like you threatened? You might have to pay extra for them to put up with the names they’d no doubt be called before they reached their destination.”

  A smirk tugged at the corners of Grant’s mouth. “Believe me, I considered how much it would cost me to have one of them take her, but she’s up at the house, most likely plotting her next diabolical move.” He glanced toward Ilsa’s back room. She followed his gaze and shook her head.

  “Lacy said she needed to go for a ride, clear her thoughts. She also said to tell you she took Drew and would return him to your barn later. If you want to talk to her, that would be a good time to catch her.” Ilsa straightened an already tidy display of gloves. “It might be best if your mother does not have another opportunity to speak to her in the near future.”

  Grant propped an elbow on the counter while Ilsa fussed with the gloves. “I kind of figured that out myself. How did she seem when she left? Was she upset?”

  “Of course she was upset. Who wouldn’t have been distressed by the horrid things Imogene said?” Ilsa glared at him with reproach and a touch of scorn. “Unlike Lacy, I might have slapped your mother’s face for speaking to me in such a manner.”

  Despite the severity of the situation, Grant chuckled, trying to picture tiny Ilsa taking on his stalwart mother. “I’d pay money to see that.”

  Ilsa huffed and moved to a display of beaded reticules. “Regardless of what you find amusing, the fact remains that your mother said things to Lacy that can’t be unsaid or forgotten. No one deserves to be spoken to like that. No one. If I were you, I’d devise a plan to keep the two of them far apart from each other. At the very least, perhaps you could figure out a way to put a muzzle on your mother.”

  Laughter exploded out of him at Ilsa’s comment. “Do you suppose I could get the smithy to make one for me?”

  “I doubt it, so you had better be prepared to handle future outbursts from your mother. What’s she doing here so early anyway?” Ilsa stared at the calendar she had tacked on the wall by her sewing machine. “Doesn’t she usually wait until June to grace you with her presence?”

  “Yes, but one of mother’s dear friends in town took it upon herself to send a telegram, letting her know she was needed here right away to stop me from doing something unthinkable.”

  “Who would be so nosy, not to mention rude?”

  Grant recalled the telegram he’d stuffed into his pocket and showed it to Ilsa.

  The name on the telegram generated an angry look as she handed it back to Grant. “Well, of all the unmitigated gall. The next time that horrid woman comes in here wanting me to make her something, I believe I’ll just be too busy.”

  “Now, Ilsa, there’s no need for you to lose any business on my account.”

  Incensed on behalf of both Grant and Lacy, she stamped her foot. “It won’t be any loss I’m concerned about. She and her friends can stay far away from my shop. I put up with their nonsense toward Marnie, but this is where I draw the line.”

  “I appreciate your support, and I’m sure Lacy does, too.” Grant glanced outside as the evening shadows began to lengthen. “Did she mention what time she’d return?”

  “No, she didn’t. If you aren’t ready to go home and face your mother, you’re welcome to come to our house for dinner. Tony is cooking tonight, so whatever it is should at least be edible.”

  “I appreciate the offer.” Grant helped her pick up a few things and left the lights in the workroom on for Lacy before he followed Ilsa out the door to her house.

  After spending a few hours with his friends, laughing at Tony’s jokes, and watching Laila’s antics, Grant felt in a much better frame of mind to handle his mother.

  In no hurry to return home, he dawdled up his back steps when he heard the barn door squeak. In the gathering darkness, he watched Lacy lead Drew through the open door and turn on the lights.

  He hastened her direction, slipped inside the barn, and observed her from the shadows. As she unsaddled the horse, she talked softly to him then began brushing Drew. Grant liked that she treated the animals he’d seen her with as kindly and gently as she did people.

  “Here, let me do that.” He moved behind her and took the comb from her hand. Although she appeared startled, she didn’t shy away from him. Rather, she gazed at him with a curious look on her face.

  “I hope you didn’t think I stole Drew,” Lacy said as she stepped in front of the horse and gently scratched behind his ears.

  Grant shook his head. “No. Ilsa told me you took him for a ride. You’re welcome to ride him whenever you like. You’re one of the few people I trust to take good care of him.”

  Lacy nodded her head. “Thank you.” She remained silent for several long moments then looked back at Grant again. “About this afternoon, I…”

  Grant shook his head, interrupting her. “I owe you an apology, Lacy. I had no idea my mother was here, much less that she’d screech at you like a wild harridan in the middle of the street. If I’d had any inkling that she was in town, or what she planned to say, I would have done my best to prevent her from speaking. At any rate, I should have done a better job of silencing her. I assure you, she isn’t usually so appallingly rude. Furthermore, the opinions she expressed are hers alone.” Grant gave her an imploring glance. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me someday?”

  Perplexed, she took another step back. “Forgive you? For what, Grant? For ending your mother’s tirade as soon as possible and keeping her away from me? For coming back to the shop to check on me? For coming out here to apologize for something that you had no control over? There’s nothing to forgive, unless you can forgive me.”

  Grant stopped brushing the horse and stared at Lacy. “And what have you done that warrants a need for my forgiveness?”

  The saucy smile on her face made his heartbeat accelerate while his temperature climbed. “I’ve had several dozen uncharitable thoughts about your mother in the last few hours. I should ask your forgiveness for thinking so poorly of her.”

  Grant chuckled as he finished brushing the horse. “You can’t have any thoughts I haven’t had myself, and probably not nearly as many. That woman…” Grant stopped himself before he said something he shouldn’t. He’d never spoken harshly to his mother although goodness knew he wanted to over the years. He and his sisters did their best to give her the benefit of the doubt and hold their tongues because the death of their father had b
een such a devastating blow to her. Perhaps they’d been too lenient with her if she thought her behavior today was at all acceptable. “Let’s just say my mother is lucky she has a roof over her head tonight.”

  Lacy giggled and walked to Drew’s stall. The horse willingly followed her, rubbing his head against her back. “You’re too nice and too kind to leave your mother out in the cold, so don’t pretend otherwise.”

  “I thought about it, though. I really did.” Grant grinned at her and she laughed.

  He fed and watered Drew, shut the horse’s stall door, then turned and took Lacy in his arms. “I’m deeply sorry for what she said. Not a word of it is true. You’re one of the finest, most tender-hearted people I know, not to mention beautiful.”

  Lacy stared into his eyes, enchanted by the light on the barn wall highlighting the blue, green, and gold flecks in his hazel eyes. “You, kind sir, are full of flattery, aren’t you?”

  “Only when I mean it.” Grant pulled her closer and lowered his head closer to hers. “You’re an amazing, lovely woman, Lacy. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

  She closed the distance between their lips and kissed him with an ardent passion Grant had only dreamed of experiencing. A groan escaped him as he deepened the kiss and lifted her in his arms so her feet dangled above the dirt floor of the barn.

  It took mere seconds for him to go from slightly overheated to feverish with yearning. When she trembled against him, he lifted his head and set her back on her feet. “We better call this good night, Lacy. May I walk you back to your apartment?”

  “No, Grant. I’ll be fine. You better get back inside the house or your mother might come searching for you again.” Lacy grinned as they walked with their fingers entwined to the barn door. “It would be best if I return the earrings, Grant. If you want to give them away, I’m sure one of your sisters would like to have them.”

  “They looked perfect on you, Lacy. My sisters have more jewelry than they could wear in three lifetimes. Please, I want you to keep them and enjoy them. My grandmother gave them to me to give to someone special. That’s you.”

  “Thank you.” Lacy felt her cheeks warm under Grant’s intense gaze. He kissed her quick and hard then quietly looked outside to make sure his mother wasn’t peering out a window.

  He walked Lacy past the house and noticed a strange buggy parked out front.

  “Go in the house, Grant. I’ll be fine.” She kissed his cheek then ran on silent feet toward the street.

  He watched her until she reached the end of his driveway and disappeared around the corner.

  In spite of his mother’s blatant disapproval, Grant had no intention of changing his plans to woo Lacy.

  With that in mind, he strode purposefully into the house. Doc Reed stood in the entry settling his hat on his head.

  “Doc? What are you doing here?” Grant asked, taken aback by the sight of the man.

  The doctor motioned for him to step outside. After closing the door behind them, Grant walked with the doctor down the steps and over to his buggy. He ran a hand along the smooth leather seat and grinned. “Where’s that automobile you’re so proud of? I thought you’d all but given up your horse and buggy.”

  Doc Reed shook his head, frowning. “That blasted machine wouldn’t start, again. It’s a grand thing to have when it runs, but there are days it seems even more finicky than Mrs. Olathe.”

  Grant chuckled and leaned against the buggy. “Might I assume Mother has suffered some malady and made Betty call for you?”

  “That would be correct.” Doc smiled as he set his bag in the buggy and climbed onto the seat. The wood creaked as Doc settled himself and unwound the reins from the brake handle. “She claimed her heart hurt so badly, she thought she might die. After a thorough examination, I can’t find a thing wrong with her. Honestly, I hope I’m in as good a shape as she is when I’m her age.”

  Nodding his head, Grant met the doctor’s gaze. “Mother and I had words earlier. She’s probably trying to drive home her point of how much it upset her.”

  “What’s she doing here now, anyway? Doesn’t she usually torment you all during the summer?”

  It surprised Grant how many people paid attention to his mother’s visiting habits. Then again, she did like to make her presence known. “One of the old biddies in town informed Mother about my interest in Miss Williams.”

  Doc reached out and slapped Grant on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “The best of luck to you in handling that situation, son.”

  “Thanks, Doc. You’re a big help.” Grant’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He sighed and took a step away from the buggy. “Send me a bill for the house call tonight?”

  “I will, Grant. Have a good evening and don’t let your mother get to you.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Grant stayed outside until the jingle of Doc’s buggy harness died away. After taking a fortifying breath, he walked up the porch steps and inside to face his mother.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The bank phone jangled, interrupting a conversation Grant held with a patron about a loan. He glanced over at Loren but three people waited in line for assistance at the teller’s window.

  “Pardon me for just a moment, Mr. King.” Grant tipped his head to the long-time customer and hurried to answer the phone as it rang a fourth time.

  “Pendleton Bank and Trust. May I help you?”

  “Mr. Hill?”

  A smile settled in his eyes and across his mouth when he recognized the caller. “Miss Williams. How does this day find you?”

  “Very well, sir. Thank you for inquiring.” Although the words Lacy spoke seemed formal and professional, her voice dropped to an intimate level that did odd things to Grant’s insides.

  “You’re most welcome.” His tone deepened and sounded husky, even to his own ears. Mindful that a bank full of customers, not to mention Loren, listened to his call, he turned his back to them and propped a shoulder against the wall by the telephone. “How may I assist you, Miss Williams?” The way he spoke her name made it seem like a tender caress.

  “If you aren’t otherwise obligated this evening, Mrs. Campanelli has requested your assistance in making a delivery to Rebecca Williams. In addition, Mrs. Williams has a return delivery for Mrs. Campanelli ready.”

  Grant grinned. It was Lacy’s way of asking him to accompany her to her grandmother’s house that evening. They would take fabric to Rebecca to bead and pick up some work she completed for Ilsa.

  Since his mother arrived in town, he’d hardly had an opportunity to spend time with Lacy. In spite of his suspicions, Imogene continued to insist she was on her deathbed.

  Just yesterday, he’d gone home mid-afternoon with the intent of sneaking up on her. When he arrived at the house, he quietly entered through the back door and made his way down the hall, listening to his mother’s voice blend with others.

  A peek in the front parlor confirmed she entertained Mrs. Bradshaw, the worst gossip in town and the tattletale who got him into trouble, along with her cohorts, Mrs. Steiner and Mrs. Ragsdale. On silent feet, he went back out and returned to the bank, satisfied he’d been right to question his mother’s feigned ill health.

  Her supposed bed-ridden state was a ploy to keep him from seeing Lacy and nothing more. Annoyed to find the bothersome old blabbermouths in his house, he would allow it for the time being since it kept his mother out of his hair during the day.

  Grant brought his thoughts back around to Lacy and the prospect of spending the evening with her. “That would be acceptable, Miss Williams. Shall I pick up the delivery at Mrs. Campanelli’s shop when I leave the bank?”

  “Yes, please, Mr. Hill.”

  Lacy’s smile carried through the phone line. It took everything in him not to turn and stare out the bank window in the direction of the telephone office across the street. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll be there.”

  Grant disconnected the call, returned the receiver to th
e wall unit, and hurried back to his desk. “My apologies, Mr. King. Now, you were explaining that you want to add a new line to the shop to include…”

  The day seemed to move at a snail’s pace, in Grant’s opinion. He skipped lunch, which resulted in an irritated telephone call from his mother, demanding to know why he hadn’t come home for the noon meal.

  “May I assume by the fact that you are out of bed, berating me on the telephone located in the kitchen, you’ve undergone a miraculous recovery today, Mother? Has your heart magically healed?”

  The call abruptly ended when she slammed down the receiver.

  Guilt should have plagued him for provoking his mother, but he couldn’t find a speck of remorse. The time he had spent around her, she belittled Lacy while offering an ever-expanding list of ideas for a future wife. The possibilities included everyone from shirttail relatives of his three brothers-in-law to a girl Imogene met on the train.

  Uninterested in her suggestions, Grant wanted the beautiful telephone operator who’d already captured his heart. He had no idea how his mother would reconcile herself to the notion of having Lacy for a daughter-in-law. However, if Imogene planned to continue visiting Grant in the future, she’d have to find a way.

  Regardless of what anyone thought or said, Grant wanted Lacy to be his bride.

  The clock on the wall above the teller’s window struck four. Grant quickly finished his paperwork, tidied his desk, and picked up his hat. “Loren, I need to attend to something. Please lock up this evening. If the bank’s quiet at half past the hour, feel free to leave early if you like. It’s much too nice a day not to get outside and enjoy a little sunshine and fresh air.”

  “Thanks, boss.” Loren grinned at him, fully aware he planned to see Lacy. Even though he’d carefully guarded his words when Lacy called, the spring in his step and the ridiculous grin he couldn’t shake gave him away to his discerning assistant. “Give Miss Williams my regards.”

  Grant tipped his head to him and opened the door. “I will. Enjoy your evening, Loren.”