“I’m so sorry,” Ruth whispered, bringing him back to the present. “I had no idea.”
He tried to shrug away the past. “It was a long time ago.”
“Time doesn’t always heal.” She lightly touched his sleeve, her eyes liquid in the light of the full moon. “Especially when you lose someone you love.”
He ought to explain how the love he’d once had for Lillian had ended the moment she announced she wanted a divorce. No Rothenburg ever entertained the prospect of divorce, no matter how bitter the marriage. He’d refused. She’d laughed at him, said she was leaving anyway. He’d stormed out. Then she and Ned had made that fateful drive.
“I’m so sorry.” Ruth clasped his hand, drawing him back to the lovely woman before him. Her gentle manner somehow eased the painful memories.
“It’s over and done.” For the first time in eight years, he could almost believe that. Nothing would change the past. Mother was right about that. All Sam could do was make a better future, and that started with Ruth Fox. “I didn’t mention Lillian to gain your sympathy. I wanted to make a point. Society considered her beautiful, but that kind of beauty is superficial.”
Her brow puckered. “That’s not why you were attracted to her?”
“Of course not.” The idea was ludicrous. Or was it? He had reveled in everyone’s congratulations for snagging the prettiest girl. He’d ignored Lillian’s selfish vanity, prodded on by sophomoric pride over claiming the prize. Only after the ceremony did he see the cracks in her character.
“I was young and foolish,” he admitted, “and I paid for that.”
Ruth gazed at him with compassion.
“Listen to me.” He held her shoulders so she couldn’t slip away from the only truly important thing he’d said tonight. “True beauty is much more than a pretty face.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Though you certainly have that. True beauty shines from deep within.”
Once again she ducked her face.
He wasn’t going to let her escape that easily. “You are beautiful from the inside out, Ruth Fox. And from the outside in.” He felt her tremble. “Start believing it, because it’s true.” He searched for some way to make her see herself accurately. “Love shines through you. Your love of family. Your love of sewing. Your faith.” He almost choked on the last, for he hadn’t been diligent in that respect. But Ruth was. Ruth surely was.
She still wouldn’t look at him. All he could see was the white of her teeth nibbling her lower lip, as if afraid to admit that he might be right. “I—I do like to sew.”
Sam could have groaned. She’d chosen the least important virtue, but it was a start. “Did you make that beautiful gown you’re wearing?”
Her face lifted, revealing a surprisingly impish smile. “I made it from the ruined dresses.”
“Mrs. Vand—”
“Hush!” She pressed a gloved finger to his lips. “She’ll hear you.” But Ruth looked pleased that he’d noticed.
An idea formed in his head. “I’m not the only one who admired the dress. When I first arrived, I stood in the back looking for you. I couldn’t help overhearing many of the women commenting on your gown. They wondered how you’d managed to buy New York fashion. Some speculated you borrowed one of your older sister’s dresses. Mrs. V—your client—was of the latter opinion.”
She giggled before pressing a hand to her mouth. It might have covered the curve of her lips but not the delight dancing in her eyes. “She did?”
He nodded. “You should use that to your advantage.”
“In what way?”
The idea came into focus, a way to help her out of trouble without taking the drastic step of marriage.
“You said you made this dress from the ruined gowns. I imagine many women have out-of-date gowns with perfectly serviceable fabric. They could be remade into new, fashionable gowns.” Even as he said the words, he realized the negative impact this would have on his store’s sales and consequently on Father’s opinion of his abilities. But Ruth needed this. Her family needed this. And a little drop in the sale of ball gowns might be offset by increased sales in other items if he advertised properly.
Ruth hesitated. “I suppose I could do that.”
“Of course you could. Tell the ladies that it wouldn’t cost nearly as much as purchasing a new gown, yet they will have a dress in the latest fashion.”
Her eyes widened as she grasped the full meaning. “And it wouldn’t cost me as much because I wouldn’t have to order expensive fabric. Why, this could open up new business for the dress shop. Maybe even—” She halted, her brow drawn. “But it would take two or more gowns to make one. The design would be difficult and time-consuming. I’d have to sketch it for the customer and get her approval.” Bit by bit she worked through the details. “But if I made it like I made this dress, it would work. Dye the fabric, perhaps add a new sash or bow, and it would be a completely new gown.” With every word she grew more and more excited.
“Oh, Sam!” She clasped her hands together. “Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve saved my family.” Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.
The impulsive gesture startled Sam at first, but after a moment he had to admit that Ruth felt better in his arms than any woman ever had. And when she tilted back her head to look at him, all smiles, he abandoned every intention of honoring Pearlman’s strict standards. Her eyes glowed. Her lips beckoned.
Sam seized the opportunity and kissed Ruth.
* * *
Energized by Sam’s idea—or perhaps his kiss—Ruth sketched a design for a blouse that she could make from the rest of the ruined ivory georgette tea gown. Saturdays were always slow at the shop, so no one interrupted, not even her sisters, who were still sleeping when she left the house at seven-thirty.
Ruth drew from her memory of the outfits in Sam’s catalogs to create a “middy” blouse. Its boyish cut suited someone like Jen. By adding a long, squared-off roll collar, turned-back cuffs with pearl buttons and a wide sash at the hip, it echoed a middy without the naval flair. Lace appliqués in front enhanced its femininity while offering additional modesty.
That thought sent a flush of heat through her. Sam had kissed her. Kissed her! Her hand shook so much that she had to set down the pencil and flex her fingers to calm herself. She would think the kiss nothing more than an impulse if not for his words. He’d called her “beautiful.” Her. Ruth Fox.
She bit her lip to stop a swell of conflicting emotions. Ten years ago, Blake had called her “pretty,” and that had turned out to be a lie. He’d used her to get to Beatrice. Sam had no cause to lie to her, but he was wealthy and handsome like Blake. On the other hand, Sam had proved reliable. He kept his word. He’d watched little Branford for Beattie. He’d gallantly rescued her at the dance. And he’d given her the idea that would save the dress shop. She could trust Sam Roth.
“Thank You, Lord.” She lifted her voice in gratitude for answered prayer before returning to the task at hand. She could use the blouse to demonstrate that stylish new garments could be created from old.
While Ruth hunted for scraps of lace, her thoughts drifted. Sam liked her! So much so that he’d kissed her. No man had ever kissed her before, not romantically. Right here and now, she could dance that waltz without stumbling. One-two-three, one-two-three. She glided around the dress shop with the ivory georgette dress as a partner.
He liked her.
He thought her beautiful.
He’d practically said that she was lovelier than his late wife, a society belle.
And he’d given her the answer to her prayers. If she could prove that this new venture would bring in a lot of extra business, she might convince the bank to buy the property and give Daddy a mortgage. All she needed was a stack of orders. Those would have to come from the wealthy, like the V
anderloos and Kensingtons. And Roths.
She sighed as she recalled Sam’s kiss.
He liked her.
Maybe he even loved her. What would those women think if they knew he’d kissed plain old Ruth Fox? They would be horrified. Shocked. They might consider it a mere dalliance on his part, but she knew it was much more than that. Sam had struggled to tell her about his late wife. She saw his pain. That wasn’t flirtation. A man exposed his soul only when he trusted a woman. And Sam Roth had thrown off every cloak of protection so she could see who he truly was. Only a man in love would do such a thing.
Her thoughts tumbled from business to romance and back again all morning. She cut the first panel two sizes too big and had to redo it. She stitched a seam with the fabric facing the wrong direction and had to rip it out and start over. If she kept this up, she’d lose more money than she’d make with Sam’s idea.
The bell over the door signaled an arrival.
“Good morning.” Beatrice hurried inside and tugged off her gloves. “It’s too hot for these.”
“The day is off to a warm start.” Ruth had not expected to see her sister at this early hour. “The necklace you loaned me is at the house.”
Beatrice waved that off. “I’ll get it later. I came here to see you. How did the dance go?”
Ruth would not mention the embarrassing stumble. What did it matter now anyway? “Fine.”
“You danced?”
Ruth nodded. She knew what her sister really wanted to know. “With Sam.”
Beattie sighed. “Was it wonderful?”
“I couldn’t begin to describe it.” Ruth felt her cheeks heat.
“What happened?”
Beatrice had always been closest to Ruth. They shared everything. Ruth couldn’t keep back a smile. “I think he likes me.”
“Of course he does. As well he should. You’re a wonderful catch.” Beatrice sighed again, heavily this time. “I’m glad because it makes my news a little less painful.”
Ruth could guess what Beatrice had to share. “You asked Blake?”
Beatrice’s bleak expression told Ruth that her sister had not succeeded. “He refused. I did try.”
It was a bitter blow, but Ruth wouldn’t let anything ruin her day. “You did your best.”
“But I want to help. I offered to sell some of the china, but...”
“Blake refused.” Ruth finished what her sister could not bear to say.
“I can talk to my father-in-law.”
Ruth shook her head. The senior Kensington had to know of their financial troubles, for he was president of the bank. “I think there might be another way.” Ruth then told her sister about Sam’s idea.
“Mr. Roth suggested this?” Beatrice looked surprised. “He’s proving almost too wonderful to believe. The idea does have promise, though. I have some gowns that could use updating. Maybe Blake would agree to that.”
“I’m not looking for your money. I need a way to reach the women on the hill.”
Beatrice’s eyes lit up. “Of course. Monday’s Women’s Club meeting would be the perfect place to announce this new service. I will bring you as my guest.”
Ruth breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” Everything was turning out for the best.
Beatrice grew serious again. “But we have another matter to discuss. Did you talk to Minnie this morning?”
“Minnie?” Ruth stared at her sister. “No. She was still sleeping when I left this morning. What happened?”
“This is her day to clean the parsonage.”
Ruth had been too distracted by thoughts of Sam to recall that Minnie was supposed to work this morning. “I forgot to wake her. Did Felicity call you?”
Beatrice nodded. “Don’t fret. I woke up Minnie and sent her on her way, but I think something serious happened last night. Did you happen to notice when Minnie left the dance?”
Ruth didn’t want to admit that she both could not see and was outside with Sam most of the evening. “I thought she was with Jen.”
“Apparently not. Sally Neidecker saw Minnie down by the river with Reggie Landers.”
“What?” A thousand thoughts shot through Ruth’s head, none of them positive. “Why would she go there with him? He didn’t even know who she was earlier this week. It doesn’t make any sense. Sally must be mistaken.”
Beatrice lifted her eyebrows. “Then why were Minnie’s eyes red? I told her what I heard, but she wouldn’t explain.”
“Then it must be true.” Ruth crumpled the ivory georgette. No dressmaking scheme would get them out of financial trouble if the wealthy women in town associated the family with scandal. “How could she do such a thing?”
“Now, we aren’t sure she did. Let’s assume it was all innocent until we learn otherwise. Minnie is a good-hearted girl.”
“Who is easily misled, especially by someone she’s been sweet on since she first saw him. I’ve heard about Reggie Landers’s wild ways, that he frequents the speakeasy.”
Beatrice’s expression tightened. “I’m not saying he’s the perfect gentleman. He certainly wouldn’t be my first choice. He is clearly Minnie’s, though, and we need to respect that.”
“Even if he misleads her?”
Beatrice sighed. “First we need to discover what happened. If Minnie won’t talk, see if Jen knows anything. She wasn’t at the house when I got there.”
“She’s probably at the airfield. I’ll talk to both of them. We have to clear this up before there’s been any damage.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” Beatrice picked up her handbag. “Apparently Mrs. Neidecker has already fired Minnie.”
Chapter Eleven
Jen stood at the stove heating leftover soup when Ruth arrived home from the shop. She tugged off her hat and gloves, glad to be rid of anything that made her hotter. The house was stifling.
“Is Minnie back from the parsonage?” Ruth asked as she opened the kitchen windows, hoping for some hint of air to flow through the room.
“Not yet.” Jen wiped her brow on her sleeve.
“Use a handkerchief,” Ruth chided. Did her sister have no manners?
Naturally, Jen ignored her, so Ruth got to the point.
“I heard Minnie left the dance with Reggie Landers.”
“Who told you that?” Jen’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Sally Neidecker?”
Ruth wondered just how much Jen did know. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
“For one thing, they didn’t leave together.”
“And?”
Jen shrugged. “How am I supposed to know, except that Minnie came home alone.”
“You let Minnie leave the dance without you? I asked you to look after her. Now I find she met a man, alone, and you did nothing to prevent it.”
“Minnie’s eighteen now. She can make her own decisions.”
“What if she makes the wrong one?” Ruth could barely control her indignation. “She has such unrealistic ideas about men. Someone like Reggie Landers is bound to break her heart or...or worse.”
“Reggie wouldn’t take advantage of her.”
“How do you know that?” Ruth had no trouble imagining the handsome troublemaker doing just that. Then what? Who would insist he do right by Minnie? What if he refused?
“Because he’s a decent guy at heart.”
“A decent guy would not meet a young woman alone in the dark.” Ruth shoved aside the fact that she had done the very same thing. She was older, wiser. Minnie knew nothing about men. “You must have heard the stories about him.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to listen to gossip.”
Ruth gritted her teeth. “I’ve seen him go to the speakeasy.”
“Half the men in tow
n frequent it. It doesn’t make a person bad.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “How can you say such a thing? It’s illegal and immoral.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to judge others.”
What had gotten into Jen? “Are you telling me that you don’t think drinking and gambling are bad? Those vices destroy families. That is not the kind of life God called us to live.”
Jen waved the soup ladle at her. “It doesn’t mean we should condemn everyone who falters. Jesus came for the sinners, not the righteous.”
“I realize that, but it doesn’t mean we should sit idly by and watch an innocent fall prey to those very sinners.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Stop treating Minnie like a baby.”
“I happen to care about my sister.”
“And I don’t?”
“Apparently not. If you did, you would have watched her and kept her safe. Mother would never have let us spend time alone with a bachelor in the dark of night.”
“Well, you’re not Mother.” Jen tossed aside the ladle and stormed to the kitchen door, pausing just long enough to add, “Don’t you lecture me, Ruthie.” Then she left, slamming the screen door behind her.
Ruth sank into the kitchen chair. How had everything gone so wrong? The day had started wonderfully, with warm memories of Sam’s kiss. He had given her a possible answer to their financial woes. All had fallen into place. Then Blake had refused to lend them money, and Minnie had made a terrible mistake that cost her her high-paying job.
Ruth closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples. What was she to do? Her sisters had run amok. The dress shop was floundering, and they were out of money. The crush of worry brought tears to her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Minnie’s voice was so soft that Ruth almost didn’t hear her.
She opened her eyes to see Minnie standing at the screen door. “Just a few worries, is all.”
“Oh.” Minnie released the door and crossed the room to sink into the chair beside Ruth. “I suppose you heard about Mrs. Neidecker firing me.”
Ruth nodded. “But I’m more worried about you. Is that why you were crying last night?” She’d learned with Jen that accusations got her nowhere. If she hoped to help Minnie, she’d have to offer love, not rebuke.
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