A Tailor-Made Bride (26 page)

She searched the empty street below for anyone who might be watching, but as usual, no one was about so early in the morning. At least no one she could see. Unable to solve the riddle, she relegated it to the back of her mind and carried the chairs inside.

They really were quite lovely. A floral pattern was carved into the back of each one and five thin spindles connected that piece to the slat at the back of the cane seat. The legs stood secure against the floor. No wobbles. She placed the chairs at different spots around her plank table until finally deciding to position them kitty-corner, facing the windows.

It looked cozy. Intimate. An image of Jericho sitting there rose to greet her. Him holding her hand or sharing a piece of pie off her plate. That deep voice whispering private messages in her ear. A brush of his lips across hers.

A tardy rooster crowed outside, shattering Hannah’s daydream. She jumped and scurried out the door. Cordelia would worry about her if she didn’t show up soon.

As she passed the livery, a movement in the office window caught her eye. Jericho was already there. Hannah tamped down her disappointment. It wasn’t as if this visit would be her only chance to see him. He’d be at church tomorrow. And maybe she could make him another batch of biscuits or something—a thank-you-for-fishing-me-out-ofthe-river gift. A groan vibrated in her throat at the idiotic idea.

Why was it she could give Cordelia advice on securing a man when she didn’t have the first idea how to manage the task for herself? Maybe she should just concentrate on being a seamstress and making her shop a success. That had always been her dream.

Yet her dream was shifting. She could feel it. Jericho was weaving his way into its very fabric, and she feared that without him, the whole thing would tear to shreds.

Hannah shook off the dismal thought as she approached the Tucker home. Cordelia rose from her seat in a front porch rocker.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming today,” she said. “Have you recovered enough?”

“I’m ready to find out.” Hannah grinned and motioned Cordelia forward. She hiked past the house without stopping, forcing Cordelia to trot to catch up. “I’ll waste away if I spend any more time abed. It feels good to be up and moving again.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Cordelia said as she came abreast of Hannah.

“Me too.”

They strode together in comfortable silence as they made their way toward the schoolhouse. Hannah usually enjoyed the quiet companionship of their walks, but today questions about her mysterious gift kept bobbing to the surface and irritating her like a host of mosquito bites that begged to be scratched.

“Do you happen to know anything about a pair of dining chairs that appeared on my landing this morning?”

Cordelia turned a startled face to her. “Someone put chairs on your landing?”

“Yes.” Hannah leaned forward as the road began to steepen. “And what I can’t figure out is how this mystery person discovered that I needed them.” She looked sideways at her friend. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Of course not.”

Disappointed not to have learned anything new, Hannah let the conversation lull as they climbed the hill. Then, as they arrived at the top of the hill a moment later, they stopped to catch their breath.

Cordelia bent forward and braced her hands above her knees. She tilted her head and ventured into a new topic. “I had a novel experience at Hawkins’s store after I left you yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh?”

“A man offered to tote my basket for me,” Cordelia said, her eyes glowing with coquettish glee. She straightened and Hannah gestured for them to resume their walk.

“Who was it?” Hannah asked, accelerating the pace now that they were back on flat ground.

“I have no idea.” She giggled. “He must have been a rail passenger or some other traveler. But he made such a fuss over me. I’ve never experienced the like. He followed me around the store, asking question after question,” she said between winded exhalations. “He prattled on about the weather, the town, whatever merchandise happened to be near. It was quite endearing. Although I can’t imagine why he didn’t tire of me immediately. I was so surprised by his attentions, I could barely string two words together.”

“A genuine flirtation! How marvelous.” Hannah patted Cordelia’s shoulder briefly and returned to her arm-pumping rhythm. “Men are noticing you. That’s very encouraging.”

“Well, it might have been even better, except Warren scared the poor fellow off.”

That young man was becoming a thorn in their sides. Cordelia claimed him as a friend, yet he seemed to go out of his way to discourage her from improving herself. First, he made disparaging comments about her hair. Then, aware of her weakness for sweets, he plied her with free penny candy whenever she went in the store, even when she tried to refuse. And each time Hannah encountered him, he glared at her with such animosity, her skin crawled.

Hannah suppressed a shiver. “What did he do?” she asked as she steered them back toward town.

“He swooped in like some kind of avenger and told the man to stop bothering me. Then he glowered at him until he left. It was humiliating.” She speared Hannah with a look that clearly communicated her irritation over yesterday’s events. “J.T.’s bad enough. I don’t need another man playing big brother for me.”

Hannah doubted Warren would take kindly to the brother comparison. His actions better fit those of a jealous suitor than a protective sibling. But she kept that observation to herself.

“Did you say anything to him about it?”

“I sure did.” Cordelia set off down the hill, her boots slamming into the earth with increasing aggravation. “As soon as the gentleman left, I took Warren to task for his rude behavior.”

“I hope he apologized.”

“No. Just the opposite.” Cordelia marched on like a soldier who couldn’t wait to tear into the enemy. “He started lecturing me on decorum! Can you believe it?”

Hannah didn’t reply.

“He warned me not to encourage such men’s attentions and said he disliked the changes I was making to my appearance and manner. He made some ridiculous accusation about you being a bad influence on me and predicted that if I continued following your advice, I would end up with a man who only cared about my looks, not one who appreciated me as a person. Made me so mad, I left without collecting my bread money.”

Hannah’s own ire piqued at the man’s audacity. How dare he call her a bad influence? She wanted nothing more than Cordelia’s happiness.

Yet a niggling truth poked at her beneath the cloak of her affront.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Hannah said, “there is a bit of wisdom in what he said.”

Cordelia stopped in the middle of the road. “What?”

Hannah clasped her friend’s elbow and urged her forward. “Keep walking.” Once Cordelia was matching her stride again, Hannah continued. “There are many men in this world whose affections never run any deeper than physical attraction. I can’t tell you how many society wives I’ve sewed for who were desperate to recapture their youth because their husbands had lost interest in them. A lasting relationship requires an abiding friendship, godly commitment, and an unselfish love that truly makes a couple one.”

“But you know I’ve already given my heart to Ike.”

“I know. And I’m sure he’s not the sort of man to care only about a pretty face. However, we
are
hoping to turn his head by altering your physical appearance. If we are successful, you must pray for discernment to determine whether or not his interest develops into something that penetrates that surface we created. Because if it doesn’t, he is not the man for you.”

Cordelia said nothing, and Hannah walked several yards in silence. “Your brother said the same thing to me, and he was right about that part of it,” she finally said. “Beauty
is
superficial, and a relationship built on such a shallow foundation cannot last.”

Hannah peered at her friend, but Cordelia’s eyes remained focused on the ground in front of her. Judging it best to let her think without interruption, Hannah said nothing further. However, in the resulting quiet, her own mind drifted . . . to Jericho.

Where Cordelia longed to have Ike notice her as a woman, Hannah longed for Jericho to appreciate her inner qualities. He was already physically attracted to her. She’d seen that. As well as the fact that he fought his attraction more vigorously than a cattleman fighting a prairie fire. If only he would trust her enough to allow one of those sparks to ignite his heart, she’d prove her faithfulness, remaining loyal to him all her days. She’d love him passionately and be the mother to his children that he’d never had for himself. She’d tease him and fill his days with laughter until that elusive smile became a permanent fixture on his face. If he ever gave her the chance.

Deep in thought, both women trudged on until they reached the house. There, out of habit more than conscious choice, they went inside and quenched their thirst.

Sitting in the kitchen, Cordelia refilled Hannah’s glass from a ceramic water pitcher in the center of the table, then turned and met her gaze. “I want to continue with our plan.”

Hannah waited.

“I’m in love with him. I can’t give up.” Cordelia stood and spun away to stare out the window. After a moment, she pivoted, her hands gripping the back of the chair. “I won’t settle for superficial. If that’s all he can offer me, I’ll let him go. But what if there could be more?” She clenched her fist and pounded it against her breast. “What if he does notice me, and that leads to an attraction, and that attraction leads to love? I can’t forfeit the chance. I have to try.”

Cordelia’s passion enlivened the hope that had been flagging in Hannah’s heart. Eyes moist, Hannah rose and circled the table. She wrapped an arm around her friend and hugged her close.

“We’ll keep pressing on, then.” Hannah rested her head against Cordelia’s temple and silently vowed to do everything in her power to help the young woman gain her dream. And if the Lord proved merciful, perhaps she’d realize her own in the process.

C
HAPTER 25

J.T. raised his gaze to the roof of the meetinghouse and clenched his jaw. He appreciated a good sermon as much as the next fellow, but as a nondrinking man, today’s treatise on the evils of drunkenness had grown tedious after five minutes. J.T. changed positions in his seat, twisting slightly toward the center.

He could almost see her out of the corner of his eye. Two rows back, across the aisle. Sitting next to Ezra.

She’d worn that pretty blue dress, the same one she’d had on the day he’d met her at the depot, the one that made her eyes look like moonlit ponds. Crossing his arms over his chest, he ran his hand across the pocket of his shirt. The crinkle of paper as he brushed past afforded him a momentary satisfaction. Hannah had slipped him the note when he’d helped her out of Ezra’s buggy prior to services. Her gaze had sought his, and he’d known that whatever was written on the note was important to her and that she trusted him with it. He’d nodded to her, giving wordless assurance that he would take care of it. Whatever it was.

A self-deprecating smirk tugged at his cheek. If she had asked him to chop down a forest to make her a meadow, he probably would have gone home to fetch an ax. But, of course, she hadn’t. She demanded no grand gesture of devotion from him. Just a simple act of kindness springing from her compassionate nature—a nature he had once thought shallow and frivolous. What idiocy.

He’d remained outside with the horses, wanting to ensure his privacy before opening the note. Once all the latecomers were safely inside, he ducked behind a wagon and unfolded the half sheet of paper, heart pounding. Her tidy script looped and curled in lovely patterns, fitting for one so enamored with creating beautiful things. Yet as he read, an odd disappointment filled him. The words were friendly but less personal than he had hoped. Which was absurd. Why should he expect the note to contain an impassioned declaration of her feelings when he’d never given her any reason to develop such affection? Nevertheless, he reread the thing a half dozen times, just because she’d written it.

Jericho,
      Please don’t mention my mishap at the river to Ezra. I fear he will blame himself for my predicament when it was my own lapse in judgment that caused the problem. I’m sure questions about the damaged carriage will arise, and I will gladly accept responsibility for wrecking the vehicle. All I ask is that when you tell the tale, please minimize the danger of the situation so that Ezra doesn’t fret.

      Thank you,
Hannah

Now, sitting on the hard bench built more for a school-age child than a grown man, J.T. considered her request. It wouldn’t be hard to grant. He hadn’t said much to Tom about what had happened beyond letting him know that Hannah was all right, so no one besides Delia should be privy to the events surrounding the buggy accident. He didn’t figure it was anyone else’s business anyway.

The sermon finally ended, and J.T. gladly rose to his feet to sing the closing song. Ike Franklin led them in three verses of “For the Beauty of the Earth.” The hymn’s lyrics floated through his heart and fell from his lips with newfound freedom. For the first time, he felt comfortable praising God not only for the beauty of the earth and skies, but for the beauty of the people around him, a certain dressmaker in particular. Like any other heavenly gift, beauty could be corrupted. He’d witnessed ample evidence to that effect in his lifetime. However, Hannah had proven that such a fate wasn’t inevitable. Her inner character exuded as much loveliness as her physical features—a combination that succeeded in reflecting the glory of her Creator much like a field of bluebonnets or a host of gleaming stars in the night sky.

But what did she see when she looked at him? A grouchy old bear, most likely. J.T. bit down on the edge of his tongue, wishing he had a toothpick to grind. He had no right to hope that Hannah could care for him. Every time he opened his mouth around her, he managed to insult either her or her business.

If she needed him, she might be willing to overlook his bullheadedness, but the woman was as independent and capable as any man. Running her own business. Hanging her own shelves. She even managed to rescue herself from a flash flood. All he’d done was drag her out of the water. Hannah didn’t need his money, his strength, or his skills. All he could offer her was his heart. But would that be enough? It hadn’t been for his mother. And even though Hannah shared as much in common with his mother as a dove did with a rattlesnake, he couldn’t quite banish the doubt that gnawed on his gut.