As Love Blooms (35 page)

“So you’re against suffrage for my own good?” She set the cake stand down.

“Yes, and for the good of the American family.” He followed her to the stemware aisle. “I believe that in the majority of homes in America, a certain harmony exists between husband and wife. It is understood that the woman will care for the children, and the husband will provide for the family. Don’t you worry that giving women the right to vote will wake in them a spirit of discontent?”

“They are discontented already because they do not feel like they have a voice.” Her own voice rose as she spoke, and some patrons turned in their direction. She took a calming breath. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”

“I have one more reason, and it’s perhaps the most important one.” He flashed a victorious smile in her direction. Did he honestly believe he’d win her to his side this easily?

“If women are allowed to vote”—he picked up a goblet and held it to the light—“someday they may be expected to bear arms in times of war.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Samantha, I’ve seen the horrors of war, and I do not wish for any woman to endure that.”

“I can understand your reticence, but surely you can figure out a way around that.”

“I could if I wanted to.” He reached around her to place the goblet on the shelf, then settled his hand on her waist and gently pulled her back against his chest. “Women should rely on men. That’s how it should be. You see, I can’t vote for suffrage because it takes away my ability to protect the woman I love.”

Sam’s emotions whirled like a weather vane in a thunderstorm. The heat from his hand seared the flesh at her waist. Why had he gone and turned this civil discussion into a matter of the heart? How could she argue with chivalry—albeit misplaced—especially when he’d declared his love for her?

Love. She too had felt its heady stirrings. Knowing he loved her sent her heart pattering like a schoolgirl’s, but those were emotions, and she was too old to believe love alone was enough to build a lasting relationship. It was a good start, one of the best, but alone it was not enough.

“Do you love me too, Samantha?” he whispered.

She turned in his arms to face him. “I believe I could.”

“But you don’t yet?”

“James.” She placed her hand on his chest. “I won’t let myself love you—yet.”

“Because of suffrage?” Suppressed anger deepened the color of his cheeks. “You’d let this issue keep us apart?”

She swallowed hard. Could she love a man who didn’t share her dreams? Didn’t even support them? But he filled a hole in her life that she’d almost forgotten existed. After all she’d sacrificed for the cause, would she now give up love as well?

“James, the truth is that I don’t know. I need time.”

His eyebrows raised. “To change my mind.”

“Perhaps.” She allowed a smile to form on her lips. “It would make things easier.”

“It would also make it easier if you weren’t so stubborn.” He exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “So what do we do in the meantime?”

She walked toward the door and heard the Field-Schlick Drum
and Glockenspiel Corps, the store’s own percussion band, playing in the distance. “We can enjoy today.”

“Let’s enjoy the whole weekend—in White Bear at my cottage.”

“James Ferrell, I’m ashamed of you.”

“Not you alone.” He chuckled. “Bring the whole family.”

The corps must be in a department near them now. Like a music box, the tinkling sound of the glockenspiel fit in perfectly with the crystal.

“If I invited my family, they’d know about us.”

“I think it’s time they did, don’t you?”

Her stomach dipped again. Was she ready for that? Perhaps she’d kept this from them long enough.

As if he sensed her giving in, he pressed on. “And from what you’ve told me, I think all of your girls could use a day at the lake.”

That was true. The stress between Hannah and Charlotte had been palpable as of late, and Tessa was always game for any adventure. Maybe seeing how they got along with James would help her with her choice.

She slipped her arm in his. “For once I agree with you, but don’t get used to it.”

 29 

Having changed from her overalls, Tessa took the streetcar to Indian Mounds Park, hoping to see Reese. He’d not made it back to Como before she’d left for the day, but the chances of finding him in this expansive park were slim. Either way, the walk would do her good.

Near the largest mound, the view stole her breath. She sank onto a bench and drank in the vista. Like a ribbon of blue taffy, the Mississippi River wound through the valley. Beyond the river, the city of Saint Paul lay nestled in fields of green.

No matter how crazy her world seemed to be, connecting with nature—hands in the dirt, head in the sun—seemed to connect her to God. In moments like these, her soul almost wept for the beauty only God himself could create.

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise.”

She looked up to find Reese studying her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“More than.” She scooted over on the bench and waited for him to join her. “This place is breathtaking. I was thanking God for his artwork.”

“One of the blessings of park service.” He took her hand. “I have some news.”

“Good or bad?”

“I’ll let you decide.” He laced his fingers through hers. “You already know the park commission passed the conservatory project.”

“And?”

He looked down at their clasped hands, the pause growing longer by the moment.

“Reese, tell me.”

“Today Mr. Nussbaumer asked me for my opinion on his plans.” He turned to her and a smile spread across his face.

“You’re going to be his first choice for that position, I’m sure, Reese. You’ve done it.”

“No, you did. It would never have passed without your help.” He kissed her cheek. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves simply because he asked for my opinion.” He pushed to his feet. “If you come with me to get my things, I’ll fill you in on the rest of my day and you can tell me all about yours. Then we can go out and celebrate.”

As they walked, Reese told Tessa about talking to the current head gardener, who was still recuperating from his illness. From him, Reese learned that the man had never personally been inside Carver’s Cave, although he too had heard of the rooms at the back of the cave. He said his park employed five other workers besides himself, and he wouldn’t put it past any of them to steal from the mounds while he was laid up.

“I asked him if he’d ever noticed anything being taken before he was ill, and of course he hadn’t.”

“What about Nels?”

“Some things I found out today could point in his direction, but nothing concrete.” Reese motioned to the right when they came to a cross in the sidewalk. “The timing is suspect, and some of the other park workers thought he was odd and standoffish, but that hardly makes him guilty.”

“Was he upset when he saw you here today?”

“He wasn’t at this park. Mr. Nussbaumer sent him back to Como. Didn’t you see him?”

“The only man I saw was wearing yellow and was spying on me from the trees.”

Reese took hold of her elbow and stopped her. “Someone was watching you?”

She shrugged. “I was probably imagining it. Maybe the ‘house of the spirits’ spooked me more than I thought.”

“What did you do?”

“I packed up early, went home and changed, and then came here.” She twirled in a circle. “Didn’t you notice the dress?”

“Oh, I noticed.” He grinned. “And I saw the waves in your hair.”

“I’m trying something new.” She patted her coiffure. “
Ladies’ Home
Journal
says only young ladies can wear waves.”

“They look good on you.” His voice became serious. “Listen, Tessa, just in case there was someone watching you, I don’t want you working alone anymore.” He held up his hand when she started to protest. “What if that was Nels trying to figure out if you’re a woman?”

“I thought about that, so I kept my hat on and my head down.” She felt the blood drain from her face. “But what if Nels told Mr. Nussbaumer about me?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He held the door for her. “Right now we have a celebration to attend.”

“Ten thousand dollars for a kiss?”

“It’s true.” Tessa giggled at the incredulity in Reese’s voice. The porch swing beneath the two of them, she waited for him to ask for the rest of the story. Their celebratory dinner had been capped off with a vaudeville show featuring Miss Inez Lawson.

“Sure, we enjoyed Miss Lawson, but it’s hard to believe she received that much for a little smooch.”

“Honestly, Reese. Don’t look so doubtful.” Tessa pushed back on the swing and set it in motion again. The sun had dipped long
ago, but she didn’t want the night to end. “I read all about her. Miss Lawson was in a taxicab when a party of young people piled in. One girl dared one of the fellows to kiss Miss Lawson.”

“So he paid her ten thousand dollars?”

“No, while Miss Lawson was endeavoring to escape the kiss, she hit her lip on the taxicab.” Tessa took a breath. “She couldn’t perform that night, and she had to get three stitches in her lip. She sued the man for the ten thousand and won.”

“Good for her.” He brought the swing to a halt.

“Why are you stopping us?”

“First, I want you to know I’m proud of you and all the work you did to make this happen. Even if Mr. Nussbaumer doesn’t know the debt he owes you, I do.”

“Thank you.”

He took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “And second, if I’m going to give you a ten-thousand-dollar good-night kiss, I don’t want to do it on that creaky swing.”

The wind shifted, and the cool evening air battled with the heat building inside her. “What if I refuse you?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Sue me.” His lips brushed hers, teasing at first, then dominant and possessive.

Refusing him was the last thing on her mind. She melded to him, trusting him with her heart. How had she ever lived without this man in her life?

Reese stood on the stoop of the Swenhaugens’ home, rubbing Lafayette’s saggy ears. The air, Minnesota crisp and cool, made for the kind of night that should be enjoyed. The mosquitoes? Not so much.