Truly Yours Historical Collection December 2014

by Susan Page Davis, Paige Winship Dooly, Connie Stevens

  The sign he’d finished painting yesterday lay on the shelf in the storeroom, ready to hang in the front window of the mercantile. The cheery yellow and green letters he’d painted were now dry. TESSA’S BAKERY. When he’d spoken the words yesterday, he’d done so with excitement. Now they sounded hollow. His heart ached with the possible truth of what he’d seen.

  “God, I thought maybe Tessa was the woman You’ve chosen for me. Maybe I was wrong. Please make things clear for me, so I can follow the path You want me to take.” A verse in Psalm 5 came to mind. “Make thy way straight before my face.”

  No audible voice responded, but an unmistakable nudge moved in his heart—God’s admonishment to not judge but simply wait.

  Wait? All right, Father, I’ll wait. Please reveal Your will to me one way or the other. I thought setting Tessa up in her own bakery was Your plan. Maybe it wasn’t. I thought maybe You had chosen Tessa for me. Maybe You didn’t. All I can do is wait.

  “At any rate, maybe it’s a good thing I found out about this before I started having real feelings for her.” Incrimination prickled in his middle. Whether he admitted it or not, his heart was already drawn to Tessa.

  He propped the front doors open and displayed the OPEN sign.

  He spent the morning moving stock from one shelf to another, muttering as he went. Sometimes having no customers in the store was a good thing. He could talk to himself without anyone thinking he was daft. There was more than one reason a man could go loony, and he suspected most of those reasons had to do with women.

  He worked his way along the shelf, until he came to his inventory of crocks, the ones with the snug lids. He picked one up and stared at it. If he felt nothing for her, why did it matter to him that she needed a vessel to keep mice out of her food? Why did the prospect of Tessa working in the saloon fill him with an ache so painful he could barely draw a breath? He returned the crock to the shelf.

  “That’s the problem. I do feel something for her, and the way she’s living bothers me more than I can put into words.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “That’s not the only thing I can’t put into words.”

  Light footsteps on the wood floor made him turn. If there was a day that he didn’t want to look at those hazel eyes, this was it. The morning sun gilded her hair, turning it the color of sun-ripened wheat. She sent him a shy smile, and he nearly choked on his thoughts.

  “Good morning, Gideon.”

  He let out the breath he was holding. “Morning.”

  She walked up to the counter and laid down eighteen cents. “Thank you for bringing the crock. That was very kind.”

  Gideon detected a hint of strained humiliation in her voice, but she didn’t utter a word of anger over his deed. “Do you sell candles?”

  His tongue simply lay there, paralyzed between his teeth, and refused to function. Answer her, you idiot, or she’ll think you’ve lost your mind.

  At that moment he was quite certain he’d lost his heart, but God’s instructions were to wait. He had a hundred questions to ask her, and he feared the answers. Impatience hammered inside his rib cage.

  But in the meantime, she was standing there waiting for an answer. What was her question? “I’m sorry, what did you need?”

  Tessa sent him a skeptical look. “Did I come at a bad time?”

  Gideon kicked his brain into motion. “No, not at all. What can I get for you today, Tessa?”

  Her brows lowered into an uncertain frown. “Candles?”

  “Sure. I carry several sizes.” He forced his feet in the direction of the shelf that contained the large divided tray with a variety of candles. He scooped up a handful of the most popular size. “These are two cents apiece. How many do you need?”

  “Just one, please.”

  Gideon paused in midmotion. “One candle?” She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, please.” She laid two pennies on the counter.

  “You sure that’s all you need?”

  She leveled her gaze straight into his eyes. The hazel eyes darkened a bit and erected a stubborn, defensive barrier. “Yes,

  I’m sure.”

  “One candle it is.” He laid her purchase on the counter and picked up the pennies. “Before you go, I have a surprise for you. Wait right here.” He hurried to the storeroom. As he picked up the kitten, he allowed his gaze to drift over the stove, worktable, and shelving. This would be the perfect time to show her the work he’d put into the project on her behalf. No, he needed answers to some of his questions first. And besides, God told him to wait. He returned to the front with the kitten in his arms.

  The guarded look in her eyes fell away. “Oh! What a sweet kitty.” She reached out and gathered the ball of orange and white fluff against her chest. “Just listen to that purr. It’s like she’s singing.” She caressed the kitten’s head, and the little cat reciprocated by rubbing against Tessa’s chin. “You mean you’re giving her to me? To keep?” Her eyes glistened.

  “I thought she might keep you company.”

  Her smile put the rays of the morning sun to shame. “Oh, thank you, Gideon.” She buried her nose into the kitten’s silky fur. “We had barn cats back in Indiana, but Papa wouldn’t let me pet them. He said their only purpose was to keep down the mouse popula …” The word faded on her lips, and she gave Gideon a knowing look.

  “Cats are good for that, too, I suppose.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. He hadn’t fooled her at all. “Whatever your reason for giving her to me, thank you, Gideon.” She scratched the kitty under the chin. “I think I’ll name her … Daisy. But now I really must hurry and get back to work. I told Flossie I’d only be gone a few minutes. It’s all I can do some days to keep up with all the orders for cakes and pies.”

  Uncertainty and impatience drove all good sense from his head. “Cakes and pies? I thought you changed jobs.”

  Tessa shook her head. “No, I’m still working at the hotel kitchen. Why would you think I’d gotten another job?”

  Heat climbed his chest and burned its way up his neck. “I saw you—last night. In front of …”

  Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. Apparently she didn’t know she’d been caught.

  He hated confronting her, but he had to know the truth. If her stricken expression was any indication, he must be right.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she hugged the kitten close. “You saw me out in front of the saloon so you supposed that I was working there?” Mortification permeated the curves of her mouth, and fire lit her eyes.

  What he first thought to be tears of shame, he now realized were tears of anger. “Well, I—”

  “You what? You assumed I was the kind of girl who would take a job like that?”

  “No, I—I mean, I saw you, and I—I just wondered….”

  “You wondered what I was doing there.”

  “Well, yes. Tessa, why?”

  Her jaw muscle twitched, and her eyes narrowed. “Not that it’s any of your business, Mr. Maxwell, but I was looking for some place where I could read my mother’s Bible.”

  Gideon blinked. “Oh, so naturally you would go to the saloon to read the Bible.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Tessa, that makes no sense. Why would you do that?”

  She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly, but a tear escaped anyway as her voice trembled. “Mr. Kilgore wouldn’t let me sit in the hotel lobby or use the lamp in the kitchen. The only other place where there was enough light to read by was the saloon. I didn’t go in. I stood outside by the front window. But it was so noisy, and the men were so—so vile, I decided—” She lifted her chin. “I decided I would simply have to buy a candle so I could read in the shed.” With that, she picked up her candle, snuggled the kitten onto her shoulder, turned on her heel, and marched out the door.

  Gideon’s voice failed him. God had directed him to wait, but instead he blurted out what was on his mind. Why couldn’t he learn to listen to God’s instruction? He kicked the corner of
the counter and strode to the door. “Tessa! Tessa, wait!”

  He caught sight of her skirt as she disappeared around the corner of the alley. He stood there staring, hoping she would come back—but she didn’t. Nausea stung his throat. He owed both Tessa and God an apology.

  He was about to turn to go back to the storeroom for a heartfelt talk with God when something farther down the street caught his eye. Standing out in front of the land office was Hubert Behr, and walking up to greet him was Kilgore. The two men shook hands, spoke for a moment, exchanged a piece of paper, and then stepped inside the land office together.

  eleven

  Tessa stormed down the alley toward the shed, huffing each breath out in rhythm with her pace. If Gideon Maxwell thought for one minute he could stand there and accuse her of being a wanton woman, he could just go soak his head in a horse trough.

  She’d believed him when he said he was her friend and even felt fluttering tickles in her middle when she thought about him. The confusing ache in her heart tugged her first one way then another.

  Realization swept over her. The flutters she experienced every time Gideon entered her thoughts were more than simple attraction. The comfort and warmth of being in his presence grew stronger each time she saw him. To think he assumed she was a woman of loose morals made her eyes water as surely as if he’d slapped her.

  The kitten in her arms protested her tightening grip.

  “I’m sorry, Daisy. I’m not angry at you.” She ran a gentle caress over the kitty’s head.

  Daisy leaned into Tessa’s stroking and purred.

  Tessa scooted the kitten into the shed and closed the door. The mice were in for a surprise.

  Perhaps she’d been surprised as well. Maybe Gideon wasn’t the man she thought him to be.

  She hastened back to the kitchen and grabbed her apron. Working would take her mind off Gideon. A basket of apples sat beside the large mixing bowl on the worktable. She thumped an apple on the table and stabbed at it, hacking it in half, then in quarters, taking pleasure in chopping the hunks into thin slices.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  Looking up, she found both Flossie and Tillie staring at her. Tillie shrugged. “You seem kinda moody. Something wrong?”

  Gideon’s question rang in her ears. “Why would you do that?” Yes, there was something wrong, but she forced a smile and shook her head. “I’m thinking about adding a buttermilk spice cake to tomorrow’s menu.”

  Flossie wasn’t fooled. “Is that what you went to the mercantile to talk to Gideon Maxwell about? Spice cakes?”

  Tessa riveted her eyes on her task as she continued to slice the apples. “What would Gideon Maxwell know about dessert menus?” What does Gideon Maxwell know about anything? “I was also thinking about making a peach cobbler. Can we get peaches from any of the local farmers?”

  “You can buy canned peaches at the mercantile.”

  Tessa tightened her grip on the handle of the knife. “I’d rather use fresh.” She pushed the blade of the knife through the apples with increased energy.

  Flossie reached out and patted her shoulder. “Whatever’s wrong between you two, you need to talk it out.”

  The apple slipped from Tessa’s hand, and the knife took a tiny nick from her finger. She sucked in a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stuck her finger in her mouth.

  “Yes, you do. You were happy as a lark when you left here. You came back with fire in your eyes. What happened?”

  Tessa examined her finger. Not much damage. On the other hand, her heart was bleeding. How foolish to allow herself to daydream about a man like Gideon. Hadn’t Papa always told her not to get any highfalutin ideas about attracting the attention of an upstanding man? She could still hear his bitter laughter when he told her she might as well fall in love with one of the pigs.

  Fall in love? The notion of love was a will-o’-the-wisp. Nothing there to grasp and hold. Oh, how she wished she could talk to Mama.

  Tears burned the inside of her eyelids, and she stiffened her spine. Daydreams might be fine for schoolgirls, but she had a job to do. Swallowing hard, she picked up another apple and quartered it.

  Flossie still waited for an answer.

  “Nothing worth talking about, and I need to get these pies in the oven.”

  By two o’clock the lunch crowd dwindled. Tessa began clearing dirty dishes and changing table linens in the dining room.

  Mr. Kilgore walked in with a man whom she remembered seeing once or twice.

  Tessa did her best to avoid following the pair with her eyes. Her face still heated when she remembered the way Mr. Kilgore embarrassed her in front of Gideon. Not that it mattered anymore. Gideon already thought the worst of her.

  “Tessa! Bring coffee for myself and Mr. Behr to my office.”

  Hurrying to do his bidding, she set cups and a coffeepot on a clean tray with spoons, cream, and sugar. She carried the tray to the back of the dining room where the door to the office stood open and deposited it on the small table beside the gleaming mahogany desk.

  Not wishing to linger in Mr. Kilgore’s presence any longer than necessary, she poured the coffee and returned to the dining room to finish cleaning. The tables along the back wall all needed to be cleared and she couldn’t help hearing snatches of the men’s conversation as Mr. Kilgore’s voice carried into the quiet of the nearly empty dining room.

  “I understand you’ve made inquires about purchasing property in this area.”

  The other man’s reply was drowned out as Tessa stacked dishes on her tray, but a few disjointed words pulled her senses to attention.

  “… young man … Maxwell’s Mercantile …”

  Mr. Kilgore’s booming laughter rang out. “Gideon Maxwell is a fool. I already offered to buy that place of his, and he turned me down. You’d think he’d want to unload it.”

  Tessa continued to stack dirty plates and coffee cups, ashamed for listening but wide-eyed at Mr. Kilgore’s remarks about Gideon. Taking more time than necessary for her chore, she straightened chairs and tablecloths. Mr. Kilgore wasn’t making any effort to lower his voice. Was it wrong to tarry and hear more words that weren’t meant for her ears?

  “I already own several businesses in town.” Kilgore’s pompous tone irritated her. “I’m putting pressure on Jake Peabody who owns the gristmill. It won’t be long before I own that enterprise as well. The Standridge brothers own the sawmill, but I don’t think they’ll give me too much trouble about selling out. Maxwell is the only nut I haven’t been able to crack.”

  Tessa heard the sound of fingers drumming on the desktop, and the other man cleared his throat. “I see. Seems to me that you’ve already acquired a rather substantial portion of the town.”

  One of the men took a noisy slurp of coffee.

  “Not only the town, Mr. Behr, but also some of the outlying areas. I have some inside sources who keep me apprised on …” He cleared his throat. “Well, let’s just say I have access to certain opportunities. Of course you’re privy to much of the same information—maybe even more so—working for the railroad as you do.”

  “It’s true that I’m privy to a great many things, Mr. Kilgore. Some things may surprise you.”

  Mr. Kilgore’s chuckle rang wickedly in her ears. “Ah, Mr. Behr, that is precisely why I felt it might be advantageous for us to form a partnership.” A chair squeaked. “I’ve already begun to make some strategic moves, but with the information you can provide, we could triple our assets by this time next year.”

  “Strategic moves?”

  “You know that young man you were talking about, Gideon Maxwell? I happen to know he wants to buy a piece of land east of town. He’s been downright pigheaded over refusing to sell the mercantile to me, so I bought that piece of land myself. Now, if he wants it, he’ll have no choice but to sell me the mercantile first. Then, if he wants that land, he’ll have to match the railroad’s price, and he doesn’t stand a chance of being
able to do that. Not only will I have that prime stretch of land, but I’ll have the mercantile as well.”

  There was a pause. Tessa heard clicking china. She wished she could see the faces of the men.

  “Competition between land speculators is fierce, as you well know, Mr. Behr. A few creative adjustments of the survey maps will put us at a great advantage when it comes time for the contracts to be signed. In addition, business owners stand to turn a tidy profit by—shall we say—unofficial agreements with the railroad.”

  When the man named Behr finally replied, it sent a shiver down her spine. “Very shrewd, Mr. Kilgore. Very shrewd, indeed.”

  Tessa started to pick up her loaded tray when a water glass slid and tumbled to the floor.

  A moment after the crash, Mr. Kilgore appeared in the doorway. “What’s this? What are you doing, girl?”

  Tessa caught her lip between her teeth as she stooped to pick up the shards of broken glass. A rush of blood filled her face with heat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kilgore. I was just cleaning these tables and dropped a glass.”

  She didn’t dare look up. It wasn’t like she set out to eavesdrop on his conversation, but she didn’t hasten to move out of earshot either. The pieces of broken glass jiggled in her trembling hand.

  “This will come out of your pay! Now get this mess cleaned up.” He stomped back into his office and slammed the door.

  Relief wilted her shoulders. If he suspected her of listening to his conversation with Mr. Behr, he didn’t let on. More than happy to comply with his orders, she hoisted her burden of dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen.

  Safely within the walls of the kitchen, she deposited the dishes by the sink and returned to her worktable. As she assembled the ingredients for tomorrow’s spice cakes, Mr. Kilgore’s words came back to her. Did Gideon know Mr. Kilgore had purchased the land he wanted? Her boss’s other statements regarding the railroad made no sense to her, but the arrogance in his voice raised the hackles on her neck. It didn’t take a Philadelphia lawyer to figure out that her employer was up to something unscrupulous. Now she had one more reason to dislike the man.