Before the Larkspur Blooms (16 page)

Susanna came breezing in, two dirty dishes and a cup and saucer in her hands. She placed them in the sink with a splash. “Pump sure works well.”

“I guess.”

Susanna arched a brow. “What do you mean, you guess? Your handsome Irish champion did a fine job, best ever. You said so yourself just two days ago.”

“Win could have done the same.” She sighed. “And Thomas Donovan is
not
mine.”

“Hannah, what’s got you so down?” Susanna’s eyes searched Hannah’s face.

She knew if she didn’t change the topic of discussion before long, her friend would wheedle everything out of her. “Nothing. The stage is late.”

Susanna glanced at the clock. “Not too. It’ll be pulling in soon. And I’m praying it’s filled with hungry passengers.”

“Me, too. We have a passel of roast beef to get rid of.” She opened the oven and peeked inside. “It’s not bad covered in gravy.”

Susanna gave her a sideward glance. Her brows pulled together in question. “You sure nothing’s upset you? I’ve never found you in here just looking out the window before. Are you warm?” She placed her palm on Hannah’s forehead. “Coming down with something, maybe?”

I should tell her—her job is at stake. I should, but I can’t. Not yet.
Hannah forced herself to laugh.

One day last year, Hannah’s cook had run out, leaving her holding the bag with a full dining room. As if sent from God, Susanna had stepped through her door, looked around at the frustrated customers, and asked what she could do to help. The two women had been together ever since. Susanna knew a kitchen better than most men knew a saloon. A blessing, to be sure. “No. Just wishing I could be at Shady Creek fishing with Markus. That boy has been excited all week.”

“He with Dwight?” Susanna asked in surprise, as she retied the bow of her apron. She took the scrub brush and began washing the dishes.

“Yes. Mother gave him permission. I packed them a picnic lunch with our leftover chicken.”

At the sound of hooves, harness, and a shout of “Logan Meadows!” Hannah gave Susanna a smile of relief. “Here’s the stage. At last.”

Susanna drew her hands from the water and quickly dried them as Hannah went out to greet and seat. She stopped in her tracks, causing Susanna to bump into her backside. Only Ralph, the stagecoach driver, and one old man wobbled through the door. Heat pressed at the back of Hannah’s eyes. It was apparent this was the extent of her lunch rush.

Ralph slapped his dusty hat against his leather-clad leg, sending up a plume of dust. At Susanna’s cocked eyebrow and cleared throat, he blushed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hoskins, Susanna,” he said sheepishly, looking back and forth between the two women. “I guess that best be done outside next time.” He hung the hat on a peg.

Two customers, two tables.

“Er, what was that?” the elderly passenger shouted, looking around. “Did you say something?” He dug through a carpetbag, drew out an ear horn, and held it to his head.

“That’s all right, Ralph,” Hannah said, happy to have at least the two men. “We’re delighted you’re here. Take any seat you’d like,” she said more loudly.

“Drat,” Susanna whispered into Hannah’s ear. “Looks like another slow day. If you’d rather deliver the bread to Maude now instead of later, I can handle this easily on my own.”

“You sure?”

“Are you serious? If I can’t cook and serve two meals on my own, I better start looking for another job. Oh, let’s not forget Albert will be in shortly. That’ll make three.”

Susanna did not know it yet, but she might be looking for other employment soon anyway. Hannah hated the thought and vowed not to let that happen. Susanna’d never said anything about
family or the details of her past life, but Hannah got the feeling that her friend wanted to keep the past where it was. “Fine. It won’t take me but a minute to run the bread next door.”

Albert was coming in just as she stepped through the door to leave. “Going so soon?” he asked with a smile.

She shrugged. “I surely won’t be missed,” she whispered behind her hand.

“That slow?”

“A turtle could walk to Ft. Kearny and back and not lose his seat. I swear…”

“You’re not envious over that new eatery, Nana’s Place, are you, Hannah? Your customers are loyal—they’ll be back. You can’t blame them for trying it out once or twice. Why, today the place looked packed.”

“Gee, thanks for sharing that, Sheriff,” she huffed. “Besides, you don’t count. You come to see Susanna, not for the food. And if you must know, yes, I am envious as all get-out!”

Albert patted her shoulder and smiled as Susanna approached. “Curiosity will die down soon enough. Things will get back to normal. You’ll see.” He strode away, meeting Susanna in the middle of the room. Hannah barely heard their murmured greeting. Susanna laughed softly when the lawman bachelor whispered something into her ear, making her eyes light up and her cheeks blossom.

Stepping through the mercantile door, she let her eyes adjust to the dim interior for a moment. All was quiet. She set her basket on the counter next to the shiny cash register. A new rocker by the window caught her eye, as well as a nice new selection of lantern globes. A basket of brown eggs.

“Maude, you here?” She rang the bell. A murmur of voices came from behind the partition in the middle of the store, where the textiles department was located.

Maude poked her head around the wall and smiled. “Oh, Hannah, so glad you’re here. Come see the fabric your mother has
chosen for her new Christmas gown. It is just lovely. Imported all the way from England.” She waved a beckoning hand. “She’ll look stunning when it’s all made up. Come see, girl.”

Hannah almost stumbled on her way over.
Christmas gown!

Stepping around the partition, Hannah blinked. She couldn’t believe her eyes. On the counter in front of her, dark-blue taffeta rippled like a carpet of spring flowers bending in the breeze and then cascaded to a bolt in a basket on the hardwood floor. Its staggering cost was obvious, even for the wealthiest shopper. She had to find some way to stop her mother before she bankrupted them.

“Isn’t it gorgeous, Hannah?” her mother asked, running her hand over the length. “Just the feel of it makes me light-headed. I can see it in my mind’s eye now. Oh, it’s simply perfect.”

Could things get any worse? Then, as Hannah opened her mouth to respond, they did. The door squeaked and someone came in. “Mrs. Miller, I’m here to start on your roof.”

W
ere her eyes playing tricks on her? Hannah wondered. If not, Maude Miller had blushed scarlet at the sound of Thom’s deep voice.

“I’ll be right there, Thomas,” Maude said. “Just give me a minute or two.”

“Sure,” he called back. “Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

Hannah looked back and forth between the women, wondering how best to dissuade her mother. Once Roberta had her mind set on something, it was next to impossible to change it.

“Hannah, you haven’t said anything. Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do. It’s like Maude said, very pretty.”

“Pretty? It’s more than that. I cannot wait to see it made up. It will be the most beautiful gown I’ve ever owned.”

The sound of Thom moving about in the front of the store waylaid Hannah’s thoughts, and she struggled to focus on the task at hand. “B-but we should wait until Christmas is a little closer, don’t you think? It’s only May. Certainly too soon to be thinking about parties and such. You might change your mind.” She kept her voice low so Thom wouldn’t hear.

“Nonsense. It’s never too soon to plan for the Christmas season. A stitch in time saves nine. Don’t you remember me saying that?” The superior look on her mother’s face made Hannah want to scream.

Maude placed a finger against her lips, thinking. “By the way, Hannah, your new boots arrived yesterday on the stage. I’d planned on delivering them later today, but now that you’re here I’ll get them out of the back room.” Before Hannah could stop her, Maude hurried away.

Hannah groaned inside. She could not look at that fabric a moment longer. In anguish, she turned, coming face-to-face with Thom.

He tipped his head in greeting since his hat already dangled loosely in his fingers. “Hannah. Mrs. Brown.”

“Thom, it—it’s nice to see you,” she stammered. It seemed each time she saw him he had put on weight and filled out more. With just the slightest growth of a beard, he looked devilishly handsome.

Her mother stared. Her chin edged up just enough to make it possible to look down her nose at him.

“I can see you’re busy,” he said, pointing with his hat toward the fabric. He began to back away.

“That we are,
Mr.
Donovan,” Roberta said, the tiny lines around her mouth and eyes deepening.

He turned. “I’ll just be looking around.”

“Here we are,” Maude announced as she came through the back room door, holding out a brown pair of women’s boots, connected with a length of twine. “Size six, just like you ordered. Why don’t you sit right there and try them on? Make sure they aren’t too tight. Nothing worse than standing all day in uncomfortable shoes.”

“Maude—” Hannah started.

“Go on now.” She gave Hannah a little nudge toward the chair. “Roberta, shall I cut the fabric? Are you sure eight yards will be enough?”

Hannah twirled. “Mother, no!” Material of that quality would cost a small fortune. A fortune she did not have. “You’re going to have to wait on the fabric.”

“What are you talking about, Hannah? Of course I’m getting it now. If I don’t, Lorna Brinkley is going to buy it tomorr—” She snapped her mouth closed and quickly looked away.

Hannah’s heart sank. Her mother was buying the material out from under her best friend? Of course the two women couldn’t have matching dresses. It was too hard to believe. Too horrible. Her mother would not do a thing like that, would she? The enormity of the unkind action and the answer to her own question sapped Hannah of her strength.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” she said. “We just can’t afford this”—
unbelievable waste of money
—“at this time. You’ll have to wait. And I’ll have to wait on these, too,” she added, handing the boots back to a very confused-looking Maude. “I apologize, Maude. Can you put them out on the shelf? Perhaps they’ll fit someone else.”

Maude blinked several times before saying, “I won’t mind holding them in the back until you’re ready to purchase them, dear.” She glanced down at Hannah’s feet. “Your old ones are paper-thin and worn clean through in some places.”

Oh, she wanted to shrink into a little ball and roll into the mouse hole behind the pickle barrel. Thank goodness Thom had his back to them as he inspected a saddle in the leather section. Surely, he couldn’t hear their conversation.

Roberta blinked at Hannah in disbelief. “What’s this all about, young lady? I want to know this instant. I have
never
been so embarrassed in all my life.” At the same time Maude added, “Of course, you can take them on credit if you want, Hannah.”

Hannah held up her hand, at a loss for words, and composed herself. After a long moment, she turned toward the door and said over her shoulder, “The bread’s on the counter, Maude. I’ll talk with you tonight, Mother. Good day.”

As Hannah marched away down the boardwalk, Thom longed to go after her. Comfort her. Find out what was going on. Why would she leave the boots she’d ordered behind? He had seen her limping. She needed those. His heart ached for her as he thought of how just yesterday she had tried to make it good between him and Markus. Wasn’t she financially set? He had been in the home she now lived in many times back when he and Caleb were boys, and it was nice. Large compared to most of the homes in Logan Meadows. But, as he knew better than almost anyone, appearances could be deceiving.

The back of Thom’s neck prickled. He turned to find Roberta Brown drilling him with hate-filled eyes. Maybe she was the problem, spending without contributing back. That wasn’t hard to believe. Everything she ever wore looked new, in style. Most likely she’d gone through her own savings and was now working on Hannah’s.

“Do you have something to say, Mr. Donovan?” Her tone stretched his already-thinning temper to its limit.