The Heirloom Brides Collection (10 page)

“A rolling chair? I’ve never seen one.” Were they expensive? How would she ever afford to purchase such a thing?

“Well, Old Joe’s as stubborn as they come, so there’s a chance he’ll weather all this fine.”

“Thank you, Doctor. If something changes with him, will you get a message to me?”

“Of course.” He looked at Stuart. “Get her home safely.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cold air blasted the foyer as Stuart opened the door after Betsy had slipped on her coat and scarf. “Looks like we’re in for a storm,” he said, tucking his free hand into his pocket. He carried his ma’s dinner plate in the other.

“I suppose so.” They turned toward Miss Annie’s, making tracks in the newly fallen snow. The night reminded her of the day Pops had fallen off Job and started this whole nightmare. “You know the doc was lying.”

“How so?”

“He doesn’t believe Pops’ stubbornness will make him walk again. And honestly, I’m starting to think he’s expecting the pneumonia to take him before his leg heals enough to think about a crutch or a rolling chair.”

Silence filled the cold air between them. Betsy appreciated that Stuart didn’t try to console her with more lies. Instead, he took her elbow and led her gently across the street. When they reached the front of Miss Annie’s, she turned to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Don’t you live around back?”

She nodded. “Yes, but Miss Annie forbids me to have gentleman callers. If you walk me around back and word gets back to her, she might misunderstand.”

“Well, I don’t like not walking around there with you. It’s bound to be dark. Anyone could be waiting…”

Pressing her hand to his chest, she smiled. “Stuart, truly, I’ll be fine. There’s no one lying in wait to do me harm.”

He glanced down at her hand, and she snatched it away as though he were on fire.

“Thank you, again.” She backed away and turned, then walked around back. Once inside her room, she stoked up the fire in the woodstove, dressed for bed, and slid beneath the heavy quilts. She closed her eyes and dreaded the beginning of another week.

S
tuart closed the shop at five o’clock and headed straight to Miss Annie’s. He’d take a meal home to Ma and try to convince her to stay home another day. Though after she saw the receipts for today’s business, she’d likely insist he needed her help. The store had been overrun for two hours, and even after it slowed down some, there was still such a steady stream, he’d been unable to take a lunch break.

Betsy greeted him with a smile when he walked into the restaurant. “Your ma still under the weather?” she asked.

“She is. I’ll need to take her a plate when I leave.”

“The store seemed busy today.”

She’d been watching the store? Stuart’s heart sped up at the thought. Did that mean she was trying to catch a glimpse of him? Truth be told, he’d found himself looking out the store window several times today, hoping to catch sight of her moving about the restaurant.

“Miss Annie bought some fresh steaks from Mr. Vale this morning. He butchered a couple of steers over the weekend. Otherwise, the special is chicken and dumplings.”

His mouth watered at the thought of steak, so he ordered that. “And when I’m ready to go, Ma would most likely prefer the chicken and dumplings.”

“I’ll be back with your food, soon.”

Stuart watched her as she disappeared inside the kitchen. He had to admit, she didn’t seem quite as tired as she had last week. Maybe she was getting used to the hard work and long hours, although he had to admit he hoped he had a little to do with it. The thought drew a smile to his lips.

He tried not to let his eyes follow her as she went from table to table. She’d grown into a capable worker, and her smile worked on every customer in the place, including him.

He ate as slowly as possible but knew his ma would be getting hungry. Without thinking, he pulled out his watch, never knowing if it was going to be keeping the time he’d set the last time it started working again. Before he realized his mistake, he heard a gasp and looked up, dread tightening his stomach as he faced stormy eyes.

“Where did you get that?” Betsy asked, her voice rising.

“Betsy, I was going to tell you.” When, when had he planned to tell her?

“Give it to me this instant.” She reached for the watch, and instinctively he snatched it back. She lost her balance just as Miss Annie burst through the kitchen door. His water glass tipped and spilled into his lap. But Betsy didn’t seem to notice as she lunged for the watch.

“Betsy Lowell!” Miss Annie’s boots made quick clicks on the floor as she hurried across the room amid all of the curious stares. “Betsy Lowell!” But Betsy didn’t seem to hear the older woman. She was too intent on the watch.

Stuart reached out and grabbed Betsy’s arms. “Betsy, stop.”

“What’d you do? Take it from the street when Pops fell that day? Are you a lousy thief?”

He scowled at her, anger building. “I bought it at the auction. The auction your pops is responsible for in the first place. So if you want to—”

“You went to the auction like all these other vultures?” She waved toward the patrons, and the room began to buzz at the implication. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Stuart recognized them as more than tears of anger. Her words and tone revealed how betrayed she felt by him.

“Miss Lowell,” Miss Annie spoke low and through clenched teeth. “Did I not explain to you that I wouldn’t tolerate rude behavior to the customers?”

Betsy gathered a deep breath and turned to face her. “Yes, ma’am, you did.”

“Miss Annie,” Stuart stepped forward. “This wasn’t entirely Miss Lowell’s fault.”

“Please, Mr. Fields. While I’m sure Miss Lowell appreciates your chivalry, I assure you, it is beside the point.”

“I don’t appreciate it at all. And he isn’t chivalrous. If anything, he’s a low-down thief.”

Outrage once more pierced his chest. “I am not a thief.”

“Then give me back my watch.”

“My watch. I paid for it fair and square.” He set some bills on the table. “More than fair and square if you want the truth. You’ll be pleased to know it doesn’t even keep time.”

Somewhere in the dining room, laughter began, then moved across the entire group of diners. Miss Annie glanced at Stuart. “Mr. Fields, I’m sorry for your treatment. Please come back.”

Without looking at Betsy, he walked, wet and angry, into the cold, snowy night.

A moment later, someone called out to him. Dread hit him in the gut at the sound he recognized as Betsy’s voice. He turned to face her. “Betsy, I’m not going to argue with you.”

“I don’t want to argue, either.” She shoved a plate toward him. “You forgot your ma’s dinner.”

“Oh, I did, didn’t I? Thank you.”

“I’m not finished.” She reached out and pulled him around. “You owe me a job.”

Gaping, he shook his head. “How do you figure that?”

She stomped her foot. “You cost me this one. Miss Annie let me go.”

“Over spilled water?”

“You know that was only part of it. But there’s no changing her mind, and I need a position.”

He hesitated. While he felt in no way responsible for her present circumstances, Stuart did need help in the store with Ma indisposed. Having Betsy there would ease Ma’s mind considerably and might encourage her to stay home and rest her hip.

“Just until Ma feels well enough to come back.”

“Fine. What time shall I be there?”

“We open at eight. Come at seven thirty so I can show you how to enter what people owe into the account book. I assume you know how to count back change?”

“Obviously,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“Good. Then you won’t have that much to learn.”

“I want my watch back, Stuart.”

“It’s not yours. How would you feel if I went around to everyone’s homes after they bought items from the store and asked for the merchandise back? That’s how things work. You pay for it. It’s yours.”

“Fine, then tell me how much you paid for it, and I’ll buy it back. Pops left it home that day by accident.”

Stuart knew he was on shaky ground with her. Maybe a true gentleman would just hand it over and let it go. One thing was certain: if he didn’t return the watch—or sell it back to her—he’d never have a chance at winning her heart. But he had his reasons for wanting it in the first place, and they had nothing to do with the value of the watch or a desire to be stubborn. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell Betsy the reason. And even if he did, she’d never believe him.

“The watch isn’t for sale.”

“Exactly! It was never for sale. It was a mistake, and you need to sell it back.”

He shook his head. “No. Do you still want that job or not?”

“And endure your presence every day? No thank you.”

“That’s up to you. The offer still stands.”

As he walked away, he could almost feel her glare, and he imagined those blue eyes boring into the back of his head. He doubted seriously she would come to work, and part of him was relieved. He could do without hours of daily anger from her.

Now, how on earth was he going to tell Ma that Betsy had been fired and he was the inadvertent cause? She would be furious and insist he give the watch to Betsy.

With a sigh, he shook his head and turned toward home. One woman angry with him was enough. But once Ma joined forces with Betsy, he was in for a very uncomfortable few days.

Betsy spent a restless night in her room, seething over Stuart’s duplicity and her own stupidity. She had actually been sweet on him. Sort of. She had been every kind of fool believing that he cared for her, too. She wrestled with whether or not to go to the store in the morning. How could she look at him every day, knowing what a cad he was?

A knock on her door made her decision for her. She opened it to find Miss Annie standing on the step, frowning her disapproval, still clearly angry. She walked inside without being invited and started to speak without saying hello. “I have reconsidered your position.”

Relief flooded over Betsy, nearly buckling her knees. “Thank you—”

Miss Annie cut her off with an upraised palm. “There are conditions, of course. For the next week, you will have no contact with patrons. Rather, you will work in the kitchen only, and I will serve. This means, of course, that you’ll need to be at the restaurant thirty minutes earlier each day and will likely have to stay later.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I will also be cutting your pay by one dollar each week.”

Betsy gasped. More work for less wages? She barely made ends meet as it was. “Miss Annie, that isn’t fair. I know I broke a rule by getting so angry at Mr. Fields. But I assure you there were extenuating circumstances.”

“Yes, everyone heard those extenuating circumstances. We all realize that Mr. Fields went to your grandpa’s auction and purchased a keepsake that was dear to your heart. While I do have pity for you over that, the fact remains it was not Mr. Fields’ fault Old Joe lost everything, nor was he in the wrong for purchasing anything at the auction. He was in the right and did not deserve the sharp edge of your tongue nor a lapful of water.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Now, I need your word that you will never speak to a customer that way again. I have never given an employee a second chance like this, and I will expect you to conduct yourself with the gratitude that I most definitely deserve from you. You’ve done a remarkably good job for me until last night, and considering your circumstances, I find my conscience bothering me over letting you go. Now, make yourself presentable and join me in fifteen minutes to begin breakfast.”

She strode across the room and left without another word. Betsy dropped onto her bed, listening to the irritating, persistent clacking of Miss Annie’s boots on the steps as she descended.

Replaying the woman’s words in her mind, she grew angrier. Miss Annie blamed Old Joe for Stuart’s betrayal? Cut her wages by a whole dollar? And pity? And she expected gratitude? Suddenly the entire diatribe seemed so ridiculous, she started to laugh. Flinging herself back on the bed, she grabbed her pillow and pressed it to her face to muffle the sound of her giggles. Tears of mirth streamed from her eyes. What had she become that a bullying woman truly believed she could walk into her room and demand she be grateful for more work, less money, and more rules?

When the laughter finally abated, she sat up, stripped off her nightgown, and dressed for the day. Then she grabbed her bag and packed the few belongings she called her own. She tidied up the room, smoothed the quilts so there was not one wrinkle. She took the broom and swept out every speck of dirt. Below, she heard the thud of the broom handle being knocked against the ceiling to get her attention. She laughed again.

Poor Miss Annie was in for a hectic day.

Betsy glanced around the shining room with a sense of satisfaction. At least the woman couldn’t say she left a mess. She slipped on her coat, grabbed her bag and reticule, and headed down the stairs. It was too early to go to the general store. And she hated the thought of explaining her change of heart to Stuart, but she knew he wouldn’t turn her away.