When Love Calls (26 page)

 30 

God was smiling on Lincoln’s plan. He read the gold-lettered name on the door again and smiled. Iowa Telephone Company’s vice president, Victor Bradford, had attended Drake College with him. They’d been on the same rowing team. From the time he’d looked up the information back in his office, he’d taken this as a good sign.

He patted his pocket, armed with Vic’s favorite item, and entered the office. Vic’s stenographer took his name. A few minutes later, he entered his alum’s office and shook the man’s hand.

“Linc, it’s been too long.” Vic motioned to a chair. “I hope you’re not here for legal reasons?”

“No, not at all.” He sat down in the leather chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

Vic nodded. “Anything for the man who led our rowing team to victory.”

“This is concerning the switchboard operator’s vacancy at the courthouse.”

“Linc, is that all? I’ll have that filled by day’s end.”

“You’ve already selected the new Hello Girl?”

“Not actually.” Vic sighed. “I have a feeling you have a suggestion.”

“I do. She’s intelligent, a quick learner, not afraid of judges and attorneys.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket. “And best of all, she’s had training in law school at Drake.”

“You must be speaking of Miss Gregory.” His old friend eyed the cigar.

“I am.”

Lincoln offered Vic the smoke. He took it and sniffed his prize. “She’s not had the best success following the rules here, but that might be an ideal position for her. Let me send for her supervisor and see what she thinks.”

“Former supervisor?” Lincoln took a deep breath. “I believe she’s been temporarily reassigned.”

“Why, yes, she has.” Vic scowled. He went to his door and summoned the supervisor. When he returned, he sat on the corner of his desk. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been considering what to do with Miss Gregory next. The girl she was covering for is set to return tomorrow, and I’m not sure Miss Frogge wants her back.”

Releasing a slow breath, Lincoln fought the urge to defend Hannah. But if Vic intended to put her with Miss Frogge again, Hannah was doomed.

“Linc, you seem to know a great deal about Miss Gregory.” Vic adjusted his tie. “You know, 90 percent of the telephone girls we have today will be gone in three years because they’ve chosen to marry. You aren’t planning to steal one of my Hello Girls, are you?”

A knock at the door came before Lincoln had the chance to answer.

When the woman entered the room, Lincoln had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from laughing at Hannah’s accurate description of the woman with the bulging eyes. He half expected Miss Frogge’s tongue to dart out and snatch the fly buzzing about the room.

She stood to the side of Vic’s desk and gave the two men a brief nod. “Mr. Bradford, you sent for me.”

“Yes, I did.” He leaned forward. “It’s come time for me to reassign Miss Gregory.”

The woman’s nose wrinkled slightly.

“I have two choices. Either I can return her to her previous post under your direction, or I can reassign her to work at the county courthouse’s exchange. Which do you think best suits her?”

“Sir, Miss Gregory is indeed a quick learner. I’ve not seen anyone catch on as quickly.” She paused and cleared her throat. “However, I believe it would be in the Iowa Telephone Company’s best interest to send her to the courthouse. But may I suggest Mrs. Beecher be made aware of Miss Gregory’s lack of decorum and her propensity for rule breaking? In a place such as the courthouse, adherence to the rules is vital. She’ll require close supervision.”

“Thank you, Miss Frogge. That’s an excellent point.” He nodded his dismissal. “You may go.”

Lincoln waited until the woman departed before he met Vic’s gaze. “Well?”

Vic rubbed his chin. “We’ll give her a try at the courthouse. Just don’t marry her and steal her away.”

A laugh bubbled in Lincoln’s chest. “I’m not making any promises.”

As Hannah hopped on the streetcar, her temples throbbed. Running late always unnerved her. She dropped in her token and claimed a seat toward the back. Most of the time, she walked the blocks from her home to the telephone company to save money, but today was different. She had been doing research at the state law library and had lost track of time. The only way she could possibly arrive on time was to take the streetcar.

She glanced behind her and saw a young man on a bicycle reach his hand out and clamp on to the bumper of the streetcar. The newspapers had contained several recent articles disapproving of the dangerous activity, but she could understand why a cyclist would “hitch a ride.” If she were in their place, she’d probably do the same.

The lady across the aisle gasped when she spotted the young man and proceeded to tell the driver. But it was too late. The streetcar rounded the corner and the bicyclist safely road away, despite all the newspapers’ dire predictions. Hannah shook her head. So many unnecessary rules. So many people intent on rule keeping.

Guilt tugged at her. Why was she being so unkind? Her mother would be ashamed. She’d often reminded her that God made the rule keepers just like he made the rule breakers. “Your independent spirit can be a blessing or a curse,” her mother had said. “And so can being a rule keeper. Each can be used to God’s glory, and each needs the other. God is perfect in both justice and mercy. We, my dear, are not.”

When the streetcar reached her block, she made her way down the aisle and stepped off. Hiking up her skirt, she hurried up the stairs and inside the telephone company.

“Hold the elevator, please!” She pressed a hand to her hat and stepped as fast as she dared. Once inside, she heaved a sigh. “Thank you.”

After a quick straightening of her hat, she glanced around at her fellow operators. One frowned at her.

“Sorry,” Hannah said. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Then maybe you should start earlier so you don’t make the rest of us late.”

To Hannah’s great relief, the elevator stopped and the operator slid the cage back. She hurried off.

Smack into a man’s solid chest.

The familiar scent of Diamond C soap touched her, and she looked up.

“Hello, Hannah.”

“Lincoln, what are you doing here?”

He gave her a lilting grin, but no answer.

Mr. Bradford stepped from behind Lincoln. “Miss Gregory, there you are. May I see you for a moment?” He turned to Lincoln. “And Linc, let’s get together soon.”

“Sounds good, Vic.” He shook her boss’s hand. “And thanks.” He nodded to Hannah and entered the elevator.

Hannah gaped at him as the elevator operator drew the cage door closed.

“Miss Gregory?”

Oh dear, what had Lincoln done?

Leaning against the fender of his Reo, Lincoln waited. He kept an eye on the front door of the tall brick building. Hannah should get her great news and be out in a few minutes.

He chuckled as he remembered Miss Frogge’s reaction to the idea of Hannah’s return. Had Hannah truly given the woman that much grief? He found it hard to believe, as Hannah had been honest about her indiscretions with him. On the way back from the state capitol the other day, they’d laughed together about the lullaby, the invalid, and the mix-up with the undertaker. She stopped short when he asked her what finally got her moved to the evening shift, and her face took on a most becoming hue of pink.

A sparrow swooped through the air, and Lincoln smiled. How like a bird his Hannah was—God’s most beautiful creation. No wonder she liked the idea of flying. Her mere presence brought a song to his day, and the last place she belonged was in this cage.

She appeared at the top of the building’s stairs, and his chest warmed. Most of the women who worked in the city wore similar white shirtwaists and black skirts, but somehow they looked so much better on Hannah. Catching sight of him, she tipped her head, and her ribbon tails fluttered in the wind. He waved. Maybe they could go get her sisters and all go out for dinner tonight to celebrate the new position.

Striding toward him, she appeared upset. His chest clenched. Had things not gone as he thought they would? Surely Vic didn’t let her go.

She jammed her fists onto her narrow hips. “Lincoln Cole, why did you think I needed you to interfere with my job?”

 31 

“I—I—just wanted to help,” Lincoln sputtered. Good grief. What was she doing to him? He hadn’t jumbled his words since his first court trial. “I heard about the opening at the courthouse and knew you’d be a perfect fit, so I came here to suggest it.”

He glanced around the telephone company and saw a few onlookers. Great. An audience.

“If”—she jabbed her finger at his chest—“you thought I was such a ‘perfect fit,’ why did you think you needed to come throw your college chum weight around?” She poked his chest again. “If I was such a ‘perfect fit,’ why didn’t you let me go to Mr. Bradford myself and inquire about the position?”

His back stiffened and his jaw ticked. Irritation burred under his skin. She should be lavishing appreciation on him, not pecking at him. “I got you out of that horrendous evening shift. I thought you’d be pleased. Grateful, even.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” She turned from him, arms crossed over her chest.

Lincoln rubbed his neck, tempering his building anger. This was not going well. Should he apologize? But for what? He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Father, why is Hannah acting . . . threatened? What should I do?

Had he threatened her in some way? Birds do one of two things
when they are threatened—they fight back or fly away. Hannah, of course, would peck, bite, and claw like her life depended on it, but how had he made her feel threatened?

Love is patient.
He felt the words press on his heart. But he didn’t want to be patient. He wanted to demand an answer right now.

Love is kind.

Kind? Now? Did God really expect that?

Drawing in a long breath, he spread out his hands in an open gesture and softened his tone. “What’s the real problem?”

She whirled toward him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You didn’t trust me to try to do it myself. If you really believed I was the best candidate, you would have let me handle it.” She jabbed her thumb at her chest. “I could have taken care of it without you.”

“So you feel like I don’t believe in you?” The realization kicked him in the gut.

A tear slithered down her cheek.

He thumbed it away. “Nothing could be further from the truth. I promise you.” Easing his arms around her, he pulled her close.

How was he ever going to negotiate this? How was he going to make her see he wanted to take care of her, not cage her?

Love is patient.
He had to remember that. One couldn’t grab a bird, or he might end up with a handful of feathers.

Rosie’s mother appeared more often than the cuckoo on a cuckoo clock. Charlotte almost laughed when the kind woman popped out her door the third time, smiled, and pulled her head back in.

“She’s worse than your sister,” George said from his chair.

According to Mrs. Murphy’s mandates, Charlotte had to sit on the swing alone. George had groused, but so far he hadn’t tried to break the rule.

Charlotte pulled an envelope from her apron pocket and waved it in the air. “I’ve got some good news to share.”

“Someone leave you money?”

“No.” She pressed the letter to her chest. “Better.”

“Are you going to sit there all day keeping me in suspense?” He held out his hand.

Charlotte hurried to hand over the letter. The last thing she wanted was for Mrs. Murphy to hear George get upset. She should have known better. After all, George hated to wait.

He opened the letter, read the contents, and frowned. “So you want to do this?”

“Yes!” She couldn’t keep a smile from exploding on her face. “I want to learn Fannie Farmer’s scientific cookery more than anything.”

“You’re a good cook already. Why do you need to go to some fancy school?”

“I’m a good cook, but I want to know more. I want to own a fine restaurant.” When his frown didn’t disappear, she went on. “It’s a dream. Like you playing baseball.”

“I’m smart enough to know that baseball is only a dream, and I’m not fool enough to think I could actually play in the majors.”

“You think my dream is foolish?”

“Come on, Charlotte. How many women restaurant owners do you know?” He chuckled, then reached for her hand. “And why do you want to leave me? I thought we had something special.”

“We do, but—”

Mrs. Murphy opened the door. “George, I think it’s time you best said your goodbyes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. He pulled Charlotte to her feet and kissed her hand. “Walk me to the end of the block?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“What could a few steps off the porch hurt?”

“Please, George, that’s her rule. Mrs. Murphy is a family friend. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“What about my feelings?” He wrapped her in a hug and held her tight.

She squirmed free but offered him her right cheek.

He sighed and placed a quick peck on it. “Good night, Charlotte.”

“Good night, George.” She waved to him when he reached the
curb. “Oh, wait! I almost forgot.” She raced down the steps and grabbed his arm. “Hannah wants you to join us for Sunday dinner.”

“I dunno. I’m not sure I want to spend the afternoon with your bossy sister.”

She bit her lip. “But you’ll come?”

“Sure. Anything for you.” He laughed. Then, before she realized what was happening, he drew her into the bushes and pressed his lips to hers.

“Charlotte?” Mrs. Murphy called from the porch door.

Not daring to cry out, she jerked away and covered her mouth.

Hot tears pricked her eyes as disappointment flooded over her. This was not the magical moment she’d expected a first kiss to be.

“But Charlotte was off the porch with George.”

Hannah glared at her protesting little sister. Then looked up at the parlor’s ceiling and prayed for God to help her to keep from throttling Tessa. “Pointing fingers at Charlotte doesn’t make you any less guilty.” She read the note from Tessa’s teacher again. What was Tessa thinking?

Setting the note on the table, she turned to her sister seated on the couch. “So, tell me. Why did you cheat on the exam at girls’ club?”

“It wasn’t my fault. Ingrid had her paper out so everyone could see it.”

“Is that so?” This was not going to be easy. Then again, was anything ever easy with Tessa?

Tessa nodded. “Yes, she had her paper right out on her desk.”

“Quite possibly because she was taking an exam!” Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. “Why did you do it, Tessa? Do you realize you cheated on a
Bible
exam?”

“I wanted my ribbon. Mrs. Devorak said everyone who passed the Bible test got a ribbon to wear, and I didn’t want to be the only girl without one.”

“That’s what Mrs. Devorak thought. She said she’ll give you
an alternate, more difficult oral exam tomorrow, so I suggest you start studying.”

“Is that all?” Too late, Tessa sucked in her cheeks to cover the smile erupting on her face.

Charlotte bounced down the stairs, and Hannah glanced at her before pinning Tessa with a glare. “No, that is not all. For the next two weeks, you will be restricted to this house. You’ll have extra chores every day, and you’ll be writing a letter of apology to both Mrs. Devorak and Ingrid.”

Tessa’s eyes widened. “Ingrid? Why her?”

“You stole from her.”

“I didn’t take anything.”

“You took her intellectual property.” Hannah softened her voice. “And I think you already know what you did was wrong. Don’t you?”

Tessa gave a defeated sigh. “Guess I’d better go study.”

“Good idea.”

Tessa jutted out her lip. “And what are you going to do about Charlotte?”

Hannah thrust a finger toward the kitchen. “Go!”

After Tessa slinked away, Hannah dropped to the couch. “That girl.”

“Maybe it will be easier on all of us for you to be home in the evenings again.” Charlotte pulled out the checkerboard. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Hannah studied her sister as she lined up the checkers on the board. Sneaking off the porch for a few stolen moments with George wasn’t a crime worth addressing, but the subtle changes in Charlotte’s demeanor certainly were. Tonight Charlotte seemed especially quiet, and Hannah thought she’d heard her crying earlier. Still, Hannah’s first night back home hardly seemed the appropriate time for a conversation about George. Maybe, once they’d had a chance to reconnect, she could have a heart-to-heart with her sister and settle this George situation once and for all.

She glanced at the oval frame on the wall. Beneath the curved glass of the photograph, her parents smiled at her. The familiar ache in her chest throbbed. Were they watching her? What would her mother say to Charlotte about George? For that matter, what would she say about Lincoln? Could her mother have helped her make sense of Lincoln’s actions today? Try as she might, Hannah still had difficulty understanding why he felt the need to interfere.

“Hannah? Are you going to play or not?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes, sorry.”

Three games of checkers later, Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “Your mind is not in the game tonight. I don’t remember the last time I beat you three times in a row.”

Tessa returned from the kitchen. “Can I play?”

“Are you ready for your exam?” Hannah looked up and stretched the kink in her neck.

Tessa nodded. “Ask me anything.”

“I will.” Hannah stood up. “But first I need a little break. You may play one game, and then I’ll quiz you.”

With a grin, Tessa flopped down on the couch and snapped each checker on its place. “Dear sister, prepare to meet thy doom.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and made the first move.

Hannah watched her sisters’ calculated moves. Tessa, the more offensive player, took control of the center of the board, while Charlotte played more defensively. Tessa jumped two of Charlotte’s black men, and Charlotte returned the effort in kind. Since Tessa was never one to take time to think through any strategy, the game was over in less than ten minutes.

“I won!” Tessa clapped her hands.

Charlotte laughed. “If you skip the part about being restricted to the house, doing extra chores, and writing apologies—then yes, you are absolutely a winner tonight.”

A laugh exploded from Hannah’s lips. Oh, how she’d missed her sisters.