Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel (9 page)

Granny was still spry at seventy. She was fully gray-haired and pleasingly plump but with nice skin, which she protected with a straw hat. The only thing that gave her age away were the deep lines around the blue eyes peering up at him and the stoop of her shoulders.

“Now you know I brought pie,” she answered, giving him a big squeeze. “Just reach in the back there. I have a whole rhubarb pie.”

Zach did as he was told. He lifted the pie from a box in the back and peeked under the linen cloth. “Mmm, my mouth tastes it already. God bless you, Granny.”

When Jess saw them come in, he laid his pencil down. “I thought you’d be coming today, Granny.” He walked over to kiss her cheek.

“I had to. Needed to see for myself just what’s going on here.” She suddenly became still and clamped her lips together while she gazed about the store. “Heavens above! What happened here?”

“See, I told you it was the wrong thing to let those two mess with our setup.” Jess cast his comment toward Zach. “They’re like two cleaning fanatics. Everything was just fine as it was until they came.”

“Not at all—I really like it.” Granny’s thin lips widened to smile at her grandsons. “You said the ladies did it? I don’t believe I’ve seen it look this orderly since your parents died. How did you talk them into that?”

“He didn’t!” Zach spouted. “Greta decided to make a few changes and Cora followed her instructions.”

Granny folded her hands together and pressed them into her skirt. “Then she’s one smart young woman. I can’t wait to meet Greta . . . and the other one—”

“Cora. They should be arriving soon.” Jess strode over to the counter and reached underneath for his apron.

Granny watched Jess and Zach open another crate. One side held Country Rose dishes. The other held Blue Willow china. Zach picked up a cup and admired its delicate shape.

“Tell me then, which of you is courtin’ who?” Granny asked.

“Er . . . well . . . that’s for Jess to choose, and he doesn’t want to do that.” Zach shifted from side to side.
Here it comes. She’s about to lambaste me for sending for mail-order brides in the first place.

Granny sashayed over to look inside the crate, then clapped her hands together. “These dishes are so pretty—and I have an idea that just might work to help you boys decide. I’ll offer the young ladies some tea when they arrive. Zach, you will court the one who picks the Blue Willow, and Jess, you’ll court the one who picks the rose pattern.”

Jess scratched his unshaven beard. “Well now, Granny, what if they both pick the same pattern? What then?”

“Hardly likely, but if that happens we’ll move to plan two.”

Zach laughed. “Which is?”

Granny tapped her finger on her chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. But I don’t have time to stand here yammering with you if I’m to make tea before they get here.” She moved toward the stairs. “Jess, is that tray still in the cupboard where I left it last time?” she called over her shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to go get it for you?” Jess started after her.

“No. I’ll set the hot water to boiling. You bring me up two cups from each of the china pieces. Oh, and Zach, look for that special tea you gave me. I think they’d like it,” she said, now at the top of the stairs. “And hurry up.”

“Sure thing, Granny.” Zach knew once Granny set her mind to something, there was no way she’d change it. “What about you, Jess? Does this sound like something you could live with?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not with Granny giving orders. I don’t want to cross her. No sirree.” Zach reached into a tin behind the counter for the special tea. “I’ll run this up to her and we’ll just act normal, minding our business, when they arrive.”

Jess glanced down at his pocket watch. “It’s nearly eight o’clock now. Hope they didn’t wind up with bear trouble again. How long do you intend for them to stay out in that cabin away from town?”

Zach paused on his way upstairs. “It won’t hurt them none. Maybe toughen them up a little. It’s really all we can afford now anyway.”

“Hmm . . . don’t seem right to me. They seem like genteel ladies.”

“Are you getting tenderhearted now, Jess?” Zach teased and continued on upstairs without waiting for a response.

Jess’s tough exterior belied the kindness that Zach knew was in his heart—as well as the sorrow. “Time heals all wounds,” Granny always said, but Zach wasn’t sure about that.

8

The Colorado sun was bright, hanging high in the sky, and puffy white clouds floated overhead as Greta and Cora walked down the busy streets of Central City.

“Goodness! We’re late!” Cora grumbled. “Doesn’t the mercantile open at eight o’clock?” she asked as she and Greta scurried down the sidewalk to work. “We dawdled at breakfast too long.”

“I believe you’re right. But I think we’re only a few minutes behind. The walk takes longer than we thought. At least I had a good night’s sleep. How about you?” Greta glanced sideways at Cora. There were dark circles under her eyes this morning. Was she worried about something? Like who Jess would pick as his bride?

Greta’s own pulse had beat hard last night as she’d drifted off to sleep. She’d found Jess very attractive with his deep-set brown eyes and thick, dark brows. He had a pleasant-sounding voice that seemed to resonate from somewhere deep within his chest.
Better not get too attracted
, she chided herself. Cora was very cultured and pretty. What if he picked her? How would she feel? And they were fast becoming friends. Greta would step aside and be happy for her, but then what would be left for her to do?

Cora’s heels rang out on the sidewalk. “To tell the truth, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I kept waking up all night.” She nodded at passersby.

“This wonderful morning air will get us going. It’s going to be a great day! I can feel it,” Greta exclaimed, and Cora eyed her. Greta felt invigorated with the dry mountain air, enjoying its crispness. Whatever the outcome, she would make the best of it.

“I can’t wait to explore the town.” Cora slowed her pace as they neared the store.

Jess, in the corner at his desk, barely gave them a glance when they came in, and Zach had his back turned away as he stoked the fire. A wonderful scent of apples and fragrant spices set Greta’s nose to twitching.

An older lady came down the stairs, carrying a tray and greeted them with a hello. She placed the tray on the counter and walked up to them with an outstretched hand. “You must be Greta and Cora. Jess and Zach have told me about both of you. You can call me Granny.”

Greta instantly liked the older lady with her broad smile and sincere eyes. She shook her hand and said, “I’m Greta and this is Cora.”

“How do you do, Miss Granny,” Cora said, taking her hand briefly.

Granny laughed. “No ‘Miss,’ dear. Just ‘Granny’ will do nicely. I’ve made us a fresh pot of tea. Won’t you have some before you start whatever it is that my grandsons have laid out for you to do?”

Cora shot a look at Zach, but he didn’t turn around. “Do you think that’ll be okay? We’ve had our breakfast.”

Granny waved her hand. “’Course it will. We can chat and get to know one another,” she said, then lifted the china pot to serve the steaming liquid.

As Granny poured, Greta took Cora’s purse along with hers and stored them behind the counter, then grabbed two aprons. She slipped one over her head and handed the other one to Cora. She wanted to appear professional in case a customer came in. From this vantage point she could see through the glass widows that spread across the storefront and would know when someone was about to enter. She made a mental note to clean the dirty glass today. How could Jess live like that—barely being able to see out the window?

She shook her head and watched Granny pour the tea into two different cups on the tray. Immediately her eyes landed on the Blue Willow, and she felt a pang in her heart. That had been her mother’s favorite china. The other cup had a pretty Country Rose pattern.

“Help yourselves, my dears.” Granny gestured at the teacups as she glanced over at her grandsons. “There’s sugar, cream, and lemon if you so desire.”

———

Jess paused and turned the ledger so he could watch the three women without being seen. Greta’s eyes had a luminous, soft glow. She used one slender hand to push her hair back over her shoulder. Gone were the rows of braids, and her hair fell in soft folds against her back. He felt himself staring openly at her when suddenly she sprang from behind the counter and flew out the door. He watched in horror as the stagecoach came barreling down Main Street, and it looked as though Greta was going to run directly in its path. Was the situation here so awful that she wanted to get it over with quickly? Had he been too mean to her yesterday? He felt his heart stop, but somehow his legs carried him into the street.

Greta was near the wheel of the stage as it sped by, spewing dust and debris in its wake as she bent down to retrieve something. Jess couldn’t imagine what. When he reached her, she straightened and turned around to face him. A dog! She’d risked her life for a dog? What kind of woman was this?

Her face, dress, and apron were covered with flecks of mud, but she was smiling as she held up a little ball of fluff to her cheek. “Sweet little one. Don’t you know you can’t run at a moving stage when you’re just a tiny little thing?” The puppy licked her face and wiggled in her arms.

“Greta, have you lost your good senses? You could’ve been killed! And all for a puppy!” Jess stood with his hands on his hips.

She lost her smile but continued to hold the squirming creature. “The little thing would have been crushed, so I had to act quickly. I could see through the window, though I don’t know how because the windows are so dirty!”

Her comment grated on his nerves, but her startlingly blue eyes held him in place. For a brief second he envisioned her looking out the window, those incredible eyes searching for him or waiting for him to return from a buying trip.

Jess shook his head to clear his muddled mind. What had happened to his head since yesterday? Quickly, almost forcibly, he grabbed Greta by the elbow and steered her out of the street to the porch, where Zach and the others stood gaping at what had just happened.

“My goodness, girl!” Granny traipsed down the porch steps. “That was a close call. What in tarnation—” She stopped when she saw the puppy in Greta’s arms. “Well, I declare . . .”

“I’m fine, everyone. Now we need to find out who’s the owner of this sweet little puppy. Do you know, Zach?”

Zach walked over and patted the puppy. “I haven’t a clue. There’re plenty of strays around here, and people dump pets when they move on.”

Greta’s blue eyes grew wide. “How could they? That seems so cruel.”

Jess let out a sigh. Could she really be that naïve? He almost laughed seeing her splattered with mud, since she seemed quite fussy about her appearance.

“Be that as it may, they still do it,” Granny said.

“Greta, come on in and let’s get you cleaned up,” Cora said, taking the pup and pushing it toward Zach. “Would you please see to its needs until we can find the owner?”

Seeming reluctant, Zach took the pup and looked around as if to say, “Now what?”

Jess shrugged. “You’re the one with all the ideas, remember?”

The sounds of a harness and horse hooves caught the small group’s attention, and they all turned to see a sleek black surrey trimmed with scarlet fringe halt at the hitching post in front of the mercantile. Jess already had Greta, a puppy, and Granny to deal with first thing this morning, and now there was Agnes in all her finery stepping onto the scene to pay a visit. No doubt to pour salt in his wounds. Zach handed the dog back to Greta and moved to assist Agnes.

———

Greta stared intently at the vision of beauty in the fancy carriage. She watched the lady climb down from her wagon and noticed her trim, slender ankle, briefly exposed above the delicate slipper that matched her stylish blue dress. Her head and shoulders were perfectly straight, and her broad hat was trimmed in pale blue roses. She tipped her head slightly upward to speak softly to Zach, smiling through perfectly even teeth as they strolled toward the group.

Greta realized that she’d been openly staring when she finally heard the voice coming from the lovely vision as she drew nearer to them. Whoever she was, the very sight of her commanded a certain attention, and Greta couldn’t help but notice people on the sidewalk pausing to admire her. She was sure that the lady must be aware of the attention attributed to her arrival.

That’s when she noticed Jess’s smile as he grasped her gloved hand and said hello. It was apparent that
he
knew her by the way he was looking at her. Greta stiffened.
More competition?
Somehow she managed to be cordial when Jess introduced her and Cora.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Miss Agnes Cartwright,” Jess said, turning around with his hand at the small of Agnes’s back.

“How do you do?” Agnes murmured with a nod of her head, then eyed Greta’s mud-caked dress.

Greta mumbled a greeting, thoroughly feeling like Agnes was scrutinizing her entire ensemble. She felt like running up the stairs to hide until the beautiful lady was gone. If she thought Cora’s clothing stylish, then Agnes’s outfit outshined them all. Greta felt almost shabbily dressed in her homespun working dress and apron, and the mud only added to that effect.

“So nice to meet you, Agnes,” Cora said. “Is there something in the store we can help you with?”

Agnes’s eyes swept approvingly over Cora’s dress. “Could be,” she answered in a voice so rich it was like cream being poured out. No wonder men’s heads turned as she continued up the steps.

“Let’s all go back inside instead of looking like a committee meeting out here on the porch,” Granny said. “Greta, you go on upstairs and get a fresh apron and clean that mud from your face. Jess, find an empty crate to put the puppy in for now.” Granny took the puppy from Greta, plopped him into Jess’s hands, and proceeded inside with the others following right behind her.

Greta hesitated, not sure she should be in a man’s private quarters. They may not want her in their rooms. But Granny seemed to notice her indecision.