But when she lay in her bed later that night, she thought about how good it had felt while they were all together earlier. If she were a betting person, she’d wager that even Everett had enjoyed himself. Almost as if they were a true family.
The family they would be in actuality in less than two weeks. She lay there, letting that thought flow through her, settle in her mind. And in her heart. For the first time, it didn’t seem so far-fetched that this was the man she’d build her life with.
Perhaps God had known what He was doing, after all.
* * *
Everett had waited until he heard Daisy’s door close before he’d closed and locked his own outer door. Then he’d quickly climbed the stairs and listened for sounds that they were all upstairs. He heard the faint sound of Daisy’s laughter, no doubt in response to something his sister had said.
Now, before he could retire, he had to disrupt the orderly arrangement of his bedchamber and get the room ready for tomorrow’s demolition work.
While he shoved and slid various pieces of furniture to the far side of the room, he wondered at his mood. He had lived alone for most of the past dozen or so years. Why did it suddenly feel lonely over here?
Then his thoughts shifted to how deft Daisy was becoming at typesetting. He had to admit, she’d make a good partner in the running of his newspaper business. If that was something he wanted to continue.
Which, of course, he didn’t. Someday soon he would get the break he needed and return to his place as a reporter in a big city.
In the meantime, though, there were worse things than being married to a woman who took a genuine interest in his work.
And on that thought, he turned down the lamp and climbed into bed.
* * *
Daisy was finishing the dishes the next afternoon when Walter Hendricks showed up with his two sons in tow. Predictably, Abigail made quick friends with the two Hendricks brothers, especially Calvin, the older son.
But once the work began in earnest, the girl quickly distanced herself from the noise and dust. “I have an errand to run,” she told Daisy. “I won’t be gone long.”
Sure enough, when Daisy returned from her afternoon walk with Kip, she found Abigail waiting for her, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I borrowed the furniture catalog from Mr. Blakely,” she told Daisy. “I thought we could figure out what furniture we’d like to order.”
Caught up in the girl’s enthusiasm, Daisy eagerly pored over the catalog with her. But she was still uncomfortable with spending Everett’s money, regardless of how he felt about it. She had to keep reining in the less-concerned Abigail. One item that hadn’t been on her mental list, however, caught her eye. It was a large chaise lounge. The piece had simple lines but was topped with a wonderful-looking plush cushion. If she placed it in their bedchamber, it would give her a not-so-obvious alternate sleeping accommodation. At least then she wouldn’t have to worry about which of them would be sleeping on the floor.
Abigail enthusiastically approved of her choice. “I knew you had a touch of the frivolous romantic in you. I was afraid for a moment that you were going to be thoroughly and boringly practical.”
Abigail also insisted they order a sewing machine and some updated laundry equipment. Despite her frequent flights of fancy, the girl had a practical head on her shoulders.
After much back and forth, Daisy and Abigail finally had a list of items they both could agree on.
Abigail shook her head sadly. “I do think you’re taking my brother much too literally on this budget business, but I’ll defer to your wishes.” She plucked the list from the table and linked her elbow with Daisy’s. “Let’s go place our order. The sooner we do, the sooner the pieces will arrive.”
Daisy held up a hand. “Not so fast. We should discuss our selections with your brother first.”
“But he said we should order whatever we wanted as long as we stayed within his budget, which, thanks to your stubbornness, we did.”
“Yes, but since we are spending his money, to furnish and decorate his home, I’d like to make sure he doesn’t have any objections to anything on our list.” Everett had such elegant taste in everything, she was afraid she’d made some glaring mistakes in one or more of her choices.
But Abigail had no such qualms. “It’s your home, too, and I assure you, Everett will be fine with whatever you decide—especially since you’re his bride-to-be.”
If only Abigail knew how little weight that really carried. “Still, I must insist.”
Abigail gave in with good grace. “Oh, very well, if it makes you feel better. Let’s see if he can look it over now.”
“I think we should wait until he closes his office for the day.”
“There’s no telling when that will be. And what can it hurt to check now? If he’s too busy, he’ll certainly let us know.”
Daisy didn’t doubt that for a moment. Still, she was hesitant to disturb him.
Abigail, however, was already headed for the stairs. Almost before her feet touched the ground floor, she started in with melodramatic emphasis. “Everett, Daisy and I have selected the barest minimum of furnishings needed to make our combined quarters livable.”
Everett leaned back in his chair. “Have you, now?”
“Yes.” Abigail rolled her eyes. “And it wasn’t easy because Daisy insisted on being positively frugal—quite a trying experience.”
“If she succeeded in reining in your extravagance, then my hat is off to her.” He turned to Daisy. “You didn’t let her run roughshod over you, did you?”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Then I take it you’re headed to the mercantile to place the order.”
Daisy smiled. “Actually, if you have a minute I’d like your opinion before we place the order.”
“I’m sure it is perfectly acceptable.”
Did the man ever give a direct answer? “Still, I’d like you to take a quick look. I wouldn’t want there to be any unpleasant surprises for you once the items arrive.”
“And time is of the utmost essence,” Abigail added dramatically.
He gave Daisy a quizzical look, then stood. “Well, in that case, I suppose I’d better have a look. I’m having trouble concentrating on my work with that infernal racket upstairs, anyway.”
They spread the catalog and their list out on his desk, and Everett stood between them as they looked it over. Daisy let Abigail point things out to her brother and explain exactly why each item was a must-have purchase. But several times he interrupted his sister to turn to Daisy and get her opinion. Was he just being polite? Or did he really care what she thought?
When Abigail got to the chaise lounge, Daisy saw Everett give her a quick, speculative glance, but he didn’t say anything. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but wasn’t sure if she’d succeeded. Had he guessed the reason she had included it in her order? And if he had, what did he think about it?
* * *
In the end, Everett found himself surprised by the list. The practical items far outweighed the decorative. What had happened to all that colorful exuberance she tended to use in her own place? Had his strictures about sticking to the budget boxed her in too tightly?
When Abigail bemoaned the fact that Daisy had vetoed the purchase of a small dressing table for her use, something she insisted every young woman must have, Everett turned to his bride-to-be. “Do you agree with my sister over the importance of this item?”
Daisy shrugged. “A dressing table is a nice item to have, but I’ve gotten along for quite some time without one, so I think I can manage a bit longer. The other items on the list are much more important.”
Everett studied the list again. “I believe there are items here that we need regardless of any renovations, so they should not be counted against the budget.” He met Daisy’s gaze again. “That means there are funds to cover the addition of the dressing table.”
Daisy’s eyes widened in surprise.
“And a ch
air for it, as well,” Abigail added quickly.
With a nod, Everett scribbled the additions to their list.
He did, however, say no to the fine-woven rug his sister thought would add just the right decorative touch to the room.
As the two ladies headed out toward the mercantile, Everett slowly returned to his desk. The chaise lounge on the list had caught his eye, especially when his sister artlessly explained how Daisy had picked it out without any prompting from her.
He had a pretty good idea why his future bride had selected it for their bedchamber. And if that’s where she planned to spend her nights for the time being, then so be it. He’d told her he’d leave the sleeping arrangements to her discretion, and he was a man of his word.
If he was feeling a twinge of disappointment, then he would deal with it the way he dealt with every other disappointment in his life.
He would bury it and move on. Dwelling on disappointments and troubles only made one weak.
Chapter Nineteen
Daisy found that she actually enjoyed having Abigail living on her side of the dividing wall. Not only was the girl’s chatter a welcome distraction from her own thoughts, but Abigail began to add touches of color and charm to the entire living space.
Cheery squares of fabric would appear as cloths to cover the crates she used as a table, and bits of bric-a-brac popped up in strategic locations.
“You don’t mind if I put this chair in here rather than in my room, do you?” she’d say. “The light in here is much better to read by than the light in my room.”
Another time it would be, “These curtains didn’t work out as well as I thought they would in my room, so I put them here in the sitting room.”
Abigail also began to treat the two living quarters like they were already one, going back and forth between them as if the invisible barrier Everett erected at the adjoining door didn’t exist.
And random pieces of furniture from Everett’s side began showing up in her place, as well. A footstool here, a wooden chair there—suddenly Daisy’s place was looking much more cozy.
But she wasn’t comfortable with Abigail’s cavalier kidnapping of furniture from Everett’s domain.
She finally put her foot down. “You need to stop bringing all these things over here.”
Abigail’s expression was one of wide-eyed ingenuousness. “All I’m doing is some simple rearranging of the furniture to make things more comfortable for the two of us. Don’t you like it?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. Your brother and I aren’t married yet, which means right now this is not part of his home, so you shouldn’t treat it as if it were.”
“It will be soon enough. I’m just getting a little head start.” She waved airily. “But if you want me to stop rearranging until after the wedding, I suppose I can wait.”
Daisy wasn’t fooled. The girl hadn’t offered to undo what she’d already done, just not do any additional encroaching.
Everett, however, seemed to either not notice or not care that pieces of his furniture were disappearing out from under him.
As observant as the man was, she suspected he was deliberately turning a blind eye to his sister’s redecorating efforts. He was quite good at these subtle ways of showing how much he cared for her. Why couldn’t he be more open about it? It would mean so much to Abigail.
And to Daisy, as well.
Chapter Twenty
On Sunday, as they strolled home from the gathering at the Barrs’ home, Abigail complimented Daisy on her Sunday dress. Daisy, aware that Abigail was wearing yet another gown that was making its first appearance in Turnabout, smiled and gave the girl the history of the dress.
“How wonderful. I can tell from your tone that you must have loved your mother very much.”
“I do. And I miss her very much, too.”
The girl’s expression turned wistful. “You’re lucky. I don’t remember my own mother much at all.” Then she smiled. “But having an older sister like you will be almost as nice.”
Daisy gave the girl’s arm a little squeeze. She’d grown to love Abigail, to feel like she really was a sister. It was comforting to know that it was mutual.
Then Abigail cut her a speculative look. “But speaking of dresses, have you given any thought to a wedding gown?”
It was obvious Abigail didn’t consider her current attire suitable.
But Daisy didn’t have any other options. She grabbed the side of her skirt and spread it wide. “Why, this one, of course.”
“Oh, but it’s your wedding. Surely that warrants a new gown.”
Daisy shrugged, trying not to let the words hurt. “I’m not much of a seamstress, and even if I were, there’s not much time before the wedding.”
“But isn’t there a dressmaker here in Turnabout? I’m sure she can take care of this for you. And if she’s too busy, I can work on it myself. Please, let me help you select a new dress. I’ve been told I have a very good sense of style.”
“I’m sure you do, but—”
“Please. It’ll be fun.”
“Better let her do it,” Everett added dryly. “My sister considers herself a great arbiter of fashion, and she does enjoy having a new subject to work with.”
Suddenly realizing that the garment she wore for her wedding would reflect not only on her, but on Everett and Abigail, as well, Daisy’s resolve weakened. “If you really think I should...”
Abigail jumped on Daisy’s capitulation. “Oh, this will be fun. We need to find just the right pattern to accentuate your lovely figure and height. I have some catalogs we can look at this afternoon.”
As Abigail quickened her steps, Everett turned to Daisy. “I’m afraid you’re in for a long afternoon of poring over pictures and discussing the advantages of one style over another.”
She smiled. “I don’t mind. And it was very sweet of her to offer to help.”
“For all her faults, my sister is a very giving person.” He studied her carefully. “But don’t let that hold you hostage or make you feel you must give in if you disagree with her choices.”
This time Daisy’s smile was genuine. “Have you ever known me to not speak my mind?”
Daisy and Everett parted at Daisy’s front door. By the time she reached the second floor, Abigail was exiting her room with two catalogs cradled in her arms.
Daisy immediately rushed forward. “Here, let me take those. Your wrist is not quite healed yet.”
“You’re turning into as much of a fussbudget as my brother.” But Abigail handed the books over without arguing. “Why don’t we go over to the other side so we can spread these out on the dining room table?” Without waiting for Daisy’s response, she sashayed to the adjoining door, signaling for Kip to follow her.
Everett sat on the sofa, reading one of the papers he had mailed to him from various cities. He looked up and nodded a greeting, frowning at the dog before he went back to reading.
“I’d prefer not to have anything too fancy or froufrou,” Daisy warned.
“Oh, I agree.” Abigail opened the thicker of the two catalogs. “I think something with fairly simple lines would be best. That’s not to say it won’t be elegant, though. And it should have lace insets at the neckline and collar.” She pointed to one of the pictures. “Oh, here, what do you think of this one?”
Daisy looked at the picture Abigail pointed out and was immediately captivated. The gown was truly beautiful. It had a gently scalloped neckline inset with lace that formed a throat-hugging collar. The bodice was embellished with tone-on-tone embroidery and beadwork. The long, fitted sleeves ended with a tapering point at the wrist.
“Oh, Abigail, it’s beautiful, but it’s much too fancy. The embroidery work alone would take hours and hours.”
“True, but we can do a simpler version and still get the same effect. I’ll help the dressmaker if she hasn’t the time.” She turned the page. “We’ll keep looking to see if we find anything we like better, though. We
have all afternoon.”
In the end, Daisy didn’t see anything she liked more than that first dress. She turned back to it and stared wistfully. Could she really have something this lovely?
Abigail had no such doubts. “You’re right—this is the one. Now let’s talk about colors. Of course we’ll have to work with whatever selection the seamstress has on hand—I don’t think she’ll have enough time to order anything. But I’m thinking a soft shade in the blue or green family would work best with your coloring.”
Daisy nodded. She was calculating costs in her head. If she used all of her laundry money and some of the earnings she’d managed to set aside from her work for Everett, she might just be able to cover it. She’d have to start saving all over again, but neither Everett nor Abigail would have cause to be embarrassed if she wore this dress.
As if reading her thoughts, Everett spoke up from across the room. “Sounds like you’ve made a decision. You can speak to Miss Andrews tomorrow. Tell her to bill me for her services.”
Daisy stiffened. She might not have much to bring with her into this marriage, but she could take care of her own wedding dress. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll handle this myself.”
He raised a brow at that. “Does it really matter whose money we pay with? Soon there won’t be any yours or mine—it’ll be ours.”
Did he really mean that? “Nevertheless, we aren’t married yet. I’d prefer to keep things separate until we do.”
He shrugged. “As you wish.”
Daisy eyed him suspiciously. He’d given in a bit too easily. But then Abigail reclaimed her attention with animated discussions of trim options, including types of lace, beads, embroidery and other embellishments.
Daisy realized she’d have her work cut out for her if she was to keep it simple.
* * *
The next morning, Abigail insisted on accompanying Daisy to the dressmaker’s shop. “I love to look at fabrics and patterns,” she said by way of explanation. But Daisy suspected she didn’t trust her to pick out the proper fabric by herself.
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