Wedding Belles (16 page)

He laughed. “You’re not worried about her compulsion with cleanliness? Baking is messy business, and she’s liable to get discombobulated when the flour starts flying.”

“Surely we can get beyond that.” With the wave of a hand, his mother dismissed that idea. “We’ll get along just fine, mess or no mess. Send her my way and I’ll put her to work.” She poured the gravy from the pan into a large bowl.

Lottie helped prepare the tray of biscuits. “Speaking of work, several of the women have agreed to take turns tending to the rooms and doing laundry. Fanny and Flossie couldn’t wait to volunteer.”

Gilbert didn’t add the real reason for Fanny’s willingness to do laundry. She promised to do so only if Jeb agreed to cook her meals.

“Where will we put the pie parlor?” his mother asked. “Do we really have the space?”

“I had an idea about that,” Gilbert said. “Our lobby is double the size it needs to be. Much of it is wasted space. How would you feel if we added a glass case where you could place the pies on display? That way they would be the first thing folks saw when they came in the door.”

“Sounds wonderful. People are won over by what they see and smell,” Mrs. Parker said. “I’ll make sure the aromas get them when they walk in the door. And a glass case to display the pies would be perfect.” She reached for her apron and slipped it on. “Why are we standing around here talking? I have a lot of baking to do.” She headed to the other side of the kitchen, talking to herself about pie recipes.

“We completely forgot to tell her about the recipe contest,” Gilbert said. “And about naming some of the pies after the characters in the play.”

Lottie grinned and her green eyes took to sparkling, something he couldn’t help but notice. “Oh well. The day is young. I’m just relieved she didn’t mind Jeb doing the cooking.”

“Same here.”

Lottie sighed. “Gil, I hate to admit I’m envious of you, but I am. Your mom is so understanding.”

“She is, for sure.” He couldn’t help but agree.

“I love my mama,” Lottie said, “but there are times when she makes me feel like—like…”

“Like what, Lottie?” He leaned in close to her, overwhelmed with compassion when he saw the sadness in her eyes.

“Like a misfit.” Lottie’s eyes misted over. “Now that Winnie has gone to Denver, Mama’s sole focus is on me.”

He reached for Lottie’s hand. “That’s a good thing, right? I mean, all these years you’ve pined for her attention. She doted on Winnie.”

“I thought I would enjoy it, but I don’t. She’s after me to change—in every conceivable way. The way I dress, the way I wear my hair…everything.”

Gilbert gave her hand a squeeze. “In spite of all the teasing you receive, I think you’re wonderful just like you are.” He meant it. Every word.

“I—well, I guess she wants to turn me into a lady instead of a tomboy.”

He chuckled. “Ah. Sounds like she’s been listening to Phineas and the others. Well, don’t change too much, Lottie. I might not recognize you.”

“As if I could change that much.” She paused to think through her mother’s words. “She’s not keen on my overalls and my short hair. She says I’ll never find a husband.” She clasped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Gil chuckled again. “Lottie, you’re beautiful. You always have been. You’ll have no trouble finding a husband, trust me.” He winked. “I’m sure Jeb or any one of those other fellas would marry you in a heartbeat.”

“W–what?” She pulled her hand away and her eyes grew wide.

Gil couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, the look on your face! I wish I had a photograph. It’s priceless.”

“Well—you—but—you said—and it was so—”

“Rude.” He grinned, but just as quickly feelings of shame washed over him. “I was just teasing, Lottie. About the fellas, I mean. Truth be told, I’m a little worried that some fella is going to sweep in here and steal you away. Then what will I do?” He suddenly felt sad— genuinely sad. “Promise me you’ll never leave Estes Park.”

“I—I can’t promise that.”

“Are you saying you’re thinking of going…like your sister?” Panic wriggled its way down his spine at the very idea.

“Well, no, but if Mama says I should stay with Winifred in Denver next spring, what choice will I have?”

“All the choice in the world. Talk to your pa. He’ll understand. He’s a rational man. You can’t go anywhere, Lottie. I—I need you.” More than he dared say. “This whole melodrama thing is more than I can handle on my own. And now the pie parlor…it’s going to be a lot of work.”

“I’m sure it will pay off in the end. It’s going to be great, Gil. And your mama was beside herself. Did you see the smile on her face?”

“I did.”

“It’s funny that she accused you of eating in her kitchen last night.” Lottie giggled.

He lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper, “Speaking of which, do you think she’s on to us? Do you think she realizes what we’re really up to here?”

Lottie drew so close, he could feel her breath warm on his cheek. “I don’t know,” she whispered in response. “But we’d better be careful. And sneaky.”

“Sneaky.” He stared into Lottie’s beautiful face, his heart now thumping madly. “Yes. Sneaky.”

In that moment, Gilbert Parker was struck with the craziest notion. Where it came from, he couldn’t say. But the closer he drew to Lottie’s face, the more the idea latched on. Finally unable to control the incessant pounding in his heart, he did the only thing that made sense under the circumstances.

He kissed her.

TWELVE

A L
OVE TO
D
IE
F
OR

All over town, folks are coming up with suggestions for titles for the upcoming melodrama. So far we’ve heard from several of our local men with titles like
Chaos Behind the Curtain
and
Egg on His Face in Estes
. Nice try, fellas, but our story has a strong romantic thread, so we’re hoping for something the ladies will appreciate too. Our world-famous actresses are trying their hands at the title. Just yesterday Fanny McAlister suggested
A Love to Die For
. We will continue to ponder this title—and many more—as the rehearsals continue. In the meantime, grab your sweetie and c’mon out to Parker Lodge, where you can enjoy a home-cooked meal from our new chef, Jeb Otis.
—Your friends at Parker Lodge

G
ILBERT TOOK A GIANT STEP
back from Lottie, stunned at what he’d just done. Stunned, and a little horrified. Whatever had possessed him?

Lottie stepped back as well, her loose blond curls framing her now-red cheeks. “G–Gil?” Her giggles filled the room. She said his name again, a smile lighting her face.

“Lottie, I…” He tried to make sense out of what had just happened. He’d never before thought about kissing her. He’d been swept away by some unseen force, no doubt. But what could he do about it now? “I’m so sorry.”

“S–sorry?” The smile on her face faded at once. “You’re sorry?”

“Well, you know what I mean. I shouldn’t have done that. I— I didn’t plan it.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She giggled and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “That’s what makes it all so lovely.”

“Still, I…” He stopped talking when his mother entered the room, singing “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” She stopped cold when she saw them. “Well, what have we here? Are you two in cahoots against me or something?”

“W–what?” Gilbert took a step back. “No. Of course not.”

She gave them a strange look. “I leave the room for a minute and you take to whispering?”

No point in arousing suspicions. Things were awkward enough already. “Oh, we were just talking.”

“Mm-hmm.” She pointed at Lottie. “That would explain why she’s blushing.”

“Am I?” Lottie felt her cheeks and smiled. “Is it warm in here?”

“Could be.” Gilbert’s mother grinned. “Someone turn on the oven while I was out? I get the feeling the temperature went up while I was away.”

“I—I don’t think so.” Gilbert shrugged and tried to play innocent. Oh, how he longed to back up the clock, to make the last two minutes of his life go away. In one fell swoop, his emotions had gotten the better of him and he’d managed to confuse both Lottie and his mother. Not that he could do anything about it now.

“Well, I guess I’d better get to work.” He led the way out of the room and Lottie followed closely behind. She reached to slip her fingers through his, and he struggled to know what to do to discourage her without hurting her feelings. Turning to face her, he released a slow breath. “I’m really sorry about what just happened, Lottie.”

“You are?” Wrinkles appeared around her beautiful green eyes.

“Yes. No. I mean, do you understand what I’m saying?” He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, of course, but he needed time to think things through.

Apparently so did Lottie. She turned on her heel and ran toward the door, muttering something about how she needed to go home to fetch her script. Why she needed her script at seven thirty in the morning was beyond him. Unless perhaps it contained some sort of clue for what was coming next. Right now…well, right now he had absolutely no idea where things were headed.

* * * * *

L
OTTIE RAN ALL THE WAY HOME
, her heart in her throat. Her emotions vacillated between extreme joy and genuine confusion. When she reached the road leading to her house, she paused for breath. Turning in silly circles, she chanted, “He kissed me…he kissed me!”

Her thoughts rushed backward to that moment, that glorious moment. In that instant, as his lips touched hers, everything she’d longed for, every dream she’d dreamed, every daisy petal she’d plucked, was fulfilled.

But why had he apologized? Was he sorry he’d kissed her, or just embarrassed?

Surely just embarrassed.

Oh, but how wonderful that moment had been! How unexpected. How totally blissful. In all the years she’d dreamed of their first kiss, it had never been so perfect. She giggled, realizing he’d kissed her in his mother’s kitchen. As she relived the moment once again, she picked up her pace and tried to figure out why, for the life of her, she’d made such a mad dash for home. Wouldn’t it make more sense to go back and kiss him again?

Laughter wriggled its way out once more as she imagined what that would be like and how, from this point on, she would be able to kiss him again and again.

By the time she reached the house, Lottie had forced herself to calm down. No point in arousing suspicions with Mama. No doubt she would have enough to say even without this latest news.

Sure enough, her mother met her in the front hall, her brow wrinkled. “Lottie? I thought you were working today.”

“I am, Mama, but I realized I left my script at home.”

Her mother studied herself in the front hall mirror as she donned a green satin hat. “I thought rehearsals were at night. Why rush home now?” She tied the hat sash then glanced Lottie’s way.

Lottie did her best to still her racing heart. “Oh, well, there’s a lot to do today and I was afraid I’d forget. Decided I’d better get the script before the ladies finished their breakfast.” She forced a smile.

“The ladies. Humph.”

Lottie cringed. She hadn’t counted on another nasty encounter with Mama, not on a day when she’d just been kissed. She’d rather grab her mother by the hand, tell her the good news, then dance around the foyer together in celebration of the fact that, finally, Gilbert Parker had come to his senses.

Not that Mama would consider it good news. Her view of the Parkers had clearly changed now that the actresses had arrived.

“Lottie, I asked you a question.” Her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I was lost in my thoughts.”

“Yes, I can see that. But it’s an important question, one that warrants an answer. I have a right to know—what goes on over there at that lodge?”

“What goes on?” She raked her fingers through her curls. “What do you mean?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Her mother’s stern gaze in the mirror did nothing to control Lottie’s nerves.

“Mama, I don’t. If you mean how do I spend my days, I spend them working.”
When I’m not kissing Gilbert Parker.
“I help Mrs. Parker tend to the rooms and do the laundry. I also work with Flossie—a really nice lady from Atlantic City who’s helped me a lot with the melodrama script. In the evenings, of course, we have rehearsals. I’m directing the play.”

“So you’ve said.” Her mother gave her hat a satisfied pat. “But I sense there’s more to your story.”

“More to my story?”

Her mother turned to face her. “Lottie, it’s time to tell me the truth. I deserve to know what’s really happening over there.”

“I–I’ve told you the truth—as much as I know of it, anyway.”
Well, except the part about being kissed, but this probably isn’t the time.

“You don’t find it suspicious that nearly a dozen women were brought into town and have been boarded in the same place for an extended period of time? You don’t find it equally as odd that the town’s men are suddenly making daily trips over to the lodge to visit these women?”

Lottie felt the blood drain from her face. “Mama!” She eased her way into the large, overstuffed chair. “Mama, the things that you and Mrs. Baker have implied about those wonderful ladies…it’s awful. You must know how wrong you are.”

“What’s
wrong
is their actions,” her mother said. “And that’s why the Women’s League plans to see it stopped. We won’t rest until those ladies head back out of town where they belong.”

“But, Mama! You have to realize how important this show is to the Parker family. They’re…” She wanted to add “in bad shape financially” but didn’t want to give her mother more to gossip about. Looked like she had plenty already.

“I wish you would just forget about that play, Lottie-Lou,” her mother said. “It pains me to see my daughter link arms with people of ill repute. No telling what sort of evil behaviors will rub off on you.”

Lottie gazed at her mother, astounded. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And they’re not women of ill repute. Why, many of those ladies are the finest, kindest people I’ve ever met.”

Her mother muttered something under her breath. “If I thought your father would back me up, I would insist you stop working with that Parker family until they’ve shut down that—that…” She released a breath. “Anyway, until those women have packed their bags and vacated the premises.”