Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (23 page)

“
Fine, Smitty, just fine.”
Seth said. Glancing in Celia’s direction, he asked, “Have you got a
place where a lady could sit a few minutes to rest?”

Celia glanced back, her curiosity
getting the better of her. What was he up to now? Mattie would have
answered the question for her, except she breezed by her heading
for the back of the store. Her last chance of support vanished with
the shopkeeper’s wife. There was nothing to do but go with the
little man.

Beaming as he waddled in Celia’s
direction, Smitty extended his thick arm to direct her toward the
curtained doorway in the rear. “I’ve got a cot in the back room
that you can use.”

Surprisingly, Smitty moved quickly for
a rotund little man. Smooth as water, the squat proprietor patted
her hand as he guided her to the small room at the back. They wove
their way through the maze of merchandise until they reached a
cheerful curtain over the door. His warm brown eyes
twinkled.

Celia detected a southern drawl to his
voice. Savannah, she guessed.

As promised, Smitty led her into the
tiny room with a small cot covered in a cheerful, homey, patchwork
quilt.

“
There you are.” Maggie
smiled cheerily at Celia before returning to her task of lining up
material bolts and trims in coordinating groups nearby. Turning her
attention to Smitty, Maggie waved a hand at the shopkeeper for
assistance. “Before you go, Smitty, do be a dear and fetch me that
bolt of bronze taffeta on the top shelf out front would you?” With
that, Maggie disappeared again into yet another adjoining
room.

“
Sure thing, Miss.
Maggie...” With a wink for Celia, Smitty bowed as best he could.
“The misses is fixing you some tea. You must be plum tuckered out
after that long ride. Here you go.” He smoothed the cover as he
directed her to sit on the old, comfortable looking iron daybed.
“I’ll be right back. Oh, and by the way, my name is Smitty, Smitty
Jones. Now let me see about that material and the tea,” he said and
disappeared out the door. The squat little fellow beamed and gave
her a full-toothed grin before scurrying away like a balding
rat.

Filling the doorway in Smitty’s
absence, Seth leaned an arm against the door jam.

Celia couldn’t help the flutter of
butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him. The devil-may-care
way he had of looking at her made her insides tingle. Why did he
have to look so damn good? Moreover, why did he have to parade in
front of her with his shirt open down his chest? Of course, the
afternoon heat had necessitated he try and stay cool. God forbid he
removes it altogether, Celia thought anxiously. It was bad enough
that it gave her a rather pleasant view of that luscious, dark
chest hair she couldn’t stop fanaticizing about fisting her fingers
in. His pants rode low on those narrow hips molding to his body
perfectly. Damn him! Ladies weren’t supposed to swear, but war
chiefs’ daughters could get away with it, she mused. He was intent
on riling her sensibilities. Of course, he was with his brash hold
on her only minutes earlier. Fleetingly, Celia wondered what the
vapors felt like. Damn Seth Loflin to hell for having such an
effect on her!

“
I’m going to start on
Maggie’s list. When you feel like it, Maggie’s going to help you
pick out some clothes. Seth’s eyes never left her face.

Celia nodded.

Settling his Stetson firmly on his
head, he turned disappearing the same way he’d appeared.

The doorway seemed so big and empty.
Celia considered her hands in her lap. So many emotions tumbling
through her at that point.

A few minutes later, a woman, Celia
could only assume was Smitty’s wife came in carrying a tea tray
followed by Maggie carrying a tray of sandwiches.

“
Well now, here we go,
dear.” The woman sat the tea tray down with a flourish. Rising
again, she clasped her fingers together before smiling broadly for
her guest. “You must be Celia. My name’s Rose. I’m so pleased to
meet you,” she gushed. “Seth spoke of you last time he was in.” The
warm smile split her face, all the while her bright eyes roamed
over Celia. “Why you’re prettier than a picture.” Rose smoothed at
her apron satisfied at her on opinion.

Since Rose was examining her with rapt
interest, Celia didn’t consider it too impolite to do the same. The
years had been kind to Rose. Delicacy and strength radiated in her
face. She looked to be in her mid-forties. Casting a regal pose,
her posture spoke of breeding. Her features had turned heads at one
time, while gently aging with the years. Her dark hair, done up in
a stylish bun, showed only light streaks of gray. Her smile, still
brilliant and genuine, made Celia comfortable despite Rose’s
perusal. Smiling to herself, she supposed curious people were the
same everywhere.

In the lull, Maggie spoke up. “Rose,
dear, we’d like to look at some dresses including matching
accessories. We’ll need everything from start to finish.” Her crisp
but polite tone brooked no argument.

Rose gave Maggie a genuinely baffled
look. She wanted to ask questions, Celia could tell, but Maggie’s
request left the woman without a chance to continue. Rather than
commit a merchant’s mistake, Rose smoothed her skirts, patted her
bun and smiled, though a bit stiffly. “Certainly, I believe we’ll
be able to fill your needs.” With a thin-lipped smile, she nodded
at both women before turning for the doorway.

Maggie seated herself across from Celia
in the confines of the small back room. She smiled warmly, while
pouring tea in the fragile china cups on the tray.

“
Isn’t this nice, dear?
We’ll have a small rest before we shop.” She glanced over at Celia
who held her hands clasped in her lap. “Tell me about the clothes
back east, dear. You must have been able to secure the best dress
makers in Charleston.” She ran a surmising eye over Celia before
continuing. “Why, with your bone structure and figure, I’ll bet you
had those Charleston dress makers simply begging you to wear their
designs.” Maggie’s expression, while warm proved gently
teasing.

Celia recognized the housekeeper’s
attempt to put her at ease as the older woman passed her a cup.
There was no evading Maggie. “There were times when I was afforded
the attentions of a ‘broad-minded’ dressmaker.” Celia glanced
pointedly at Maggie. “Most found my money worthless and one even
told me so.” She knew she’d been holding on to those slights for
much too long. Celia felt a significant weight lift from her
shoulders with the confession.

Maggie smiled understandingly, while
continuing to fill a tiny plate with slender sandwich
squares.

Watching the older woman go about
serving her, as if they were discussing the weather with their tea,
Celia sighed. Perhaps it would be best to explain her lack of a
social life. It would certainly be better than continue to have
Maggie probe. It wasn’t like she had anything to hide, Celia mused.
“The men I went out with while in Charleston were few.” Another
wave of relief washed over her. There, she’d released another stone
that had weighted her down for too long.

“
But you turned heads, none
the less. I would stake a hard claim on that fact.” Maggie sent
Celia a hearty Irish wink. “I know I speak the God’s truth on that.
The young men must have been seeking you out at every turn to fill
your dance card, not to mention sit beside you at the Sunday
socials.” Warm blue eyes focused on dark green ones as Maggie put a
voice to the vision she had of Celia’s social
encounters.

Celia shook her head gently with a
resigned laugh. “No, I wasn’t without dance partners or attentions
at the picnics. But Maggie you have to know none of them were
serious.” She rested her elbows in her lap, before gazing into
Maggie’s face with all honesty. “It was intriguing for most of the
gentlemen to be in the company of such an ‘exotic creature’ as one
eloquently spoken rake informed me.” A twinge of frustration at the
memory had Celia pushing off her elbows and leaning back once more
against the back of the daybed. Still watching Maggie, Celia had to
admit that speaking of it aloud was comforting.

Maggie didn’t say a word. She didn’t
have to. The hand she extended for Celia to grasp was enough. With
a gentle, but firm squeeze, both women contemplated the tea in
their cups in silence, before Maggie rose and deftly wiped her
hands together. “Why don’t we see what Rose has for us?” She
suggested. “Let’s get those buttons undone. Shall we?”

It was Celia’s turn to smile then.
“Thank you, Maggie.”

The elder woman looked at Celia with a
face full of love and understanding. Patting her hand again, Maggie
whispered with another wink, “Don’t mention it, love.”

As if on cue, Rose appeared in the
doorway, her arms full of all manner of material, dresses,
petticoats and corsets.

Celia could only stare as the woman’s
rush of words flowed out like a stream over its banks. “I’ve got
several nice day dresses to get started with. Don’t worry about the
fit, we can take them in. I always leave room in my ready-made
dresses. When the ladies buy them, then I do a fitting. Now you
just stay right here. I’ll go and get started on gathering some
shoes for you. Within minutes, she was back. Rose picked up right
where she’d left off. “When Seth told me you wanted to look at some
dresses, I told him that while we couldn’t boast the wealth of
creations they have back east in South Carolina, I could promise
you, you’ll have heads turning on each side of the street when you
step out in my designs.” With that, she unloaded her arms before
resting her hands across her ample bosom as she smiled down at
Celia. “Yes sir, mighty pretty. You’ll do me proud to wear my
dresses.”

Celia considered Rose’s exuberance a
bit overwhelming but managed to relax fractionally. It was faintly
enjoyable to have Rose fuss over her.

“
Why, I dare say, you’ll
have all of Tyler hounding me to emulate Seth’s young miss,” Rose
gushed as she helped settle a lovely green lawn creation over
Celia’s head.

“
I’m not his ‘young miss’,”
Celia said from underneath the volumes of cloth. She found the term
unsettling and the topic of Seth undeniably irritating at the
moment.

Rose smiled smugly, undeterred by
Celia’s lack of enthusiasm. She extended her hand after the dress
was in place. “Come this way dear. I’ll show you what I mean.”
Guiding Celia to a looking glass in an even smaller room adjoining
the sitting area, Rose beamed from behind as Celia gazed at her
reflection in the dress Rose had swiftly done up for her. She
pivoted, looking at her reflection in the mirror and wondered at
the transformation. Celia had to admit the woman had a way with a
needle and thread.

***

Celia’s forehead drew together in a
crease as she studied the blue chintz dinner dress she wore in the
mirror. The choice between it or the green organza was going to be
a tough one. Celia loved them both. Back east, she’d never had to
consider her coins as long as she was frugal. Her job as a surgical
assistant afforded her a comfortable living. Now she would simply
have to make a decision and stick to it. Something of a compulsion
showed in her face as her brow knitted over the choice. She did
love beautiful clothes. Her quandary subsided with the scuff of a
boot in the door behind her. Celia looked up and found Seth staring
back at her from the looking glass. His gaze was unreadable. That,
Celia found most disconcerting. How long had he been there? Why did
he always have to slip up on her? Again, she remembered how
completely he could unnerve her. Celia stared at their combined
reflection.

“
Beautiful,” Seth offered
from his position just inside the doorway.

Watching him, Celia noted that he stood
as he often did with his hat in his hand, while the other rested in
the front pocket of his pants. The collar of his shirt was damp
with perspiration and those several buttons were still undone as
well.

Celia turned to face him. Was she
imagining it or did his expression resemble that of a man struck
dumb? Celia mentally shook herself. “Thank you Seth.” She let her
hand glide down the fabric of the dress molding it to her
body.

Seth swallowed hard. “Do you like
it?”

Looking down again at the dress, Celia
nodded. “It’s lovely. Rose is a fine seamstress.”

“
The woman wearing it makes
the dress, though.” His mouth creased into a slow smile. “I, for
one, have always thought you looked lovely in anything you wore.”
He waited a beat. “But I suppose that’s just me.” His eyes
glimmered with mischief.

Celia watched him with a flicker of
memory. The old Seth had appeared briefly in those remarks. The old
Seth had always been ready with a dry wit. The ‘Boss’ hadn’t
managed to curb that trait. A quick shiver ran down her spine. She
watched him in the mirror wondering how she could feel so
completely swept away by simply looking at him. There he stood, all
cool and cocksure. With a thumb hooked casually in his front
pocket, he leaned on the door jam. His face at the moment revealed
nothing of what went on inside his head. That very capable mouth
formed a steady line, as his dark hair fell around his ruggedly
handsome face. He exuded power in his very presence. Moisture
gleamed on his forehead. He was viral male with no apologies.
Certainly more appealing than the dandies back east.