Diamond Duo (5 page)

S
arah watched the fancy white woman stroll to the counter, plant the tip of her parasol on the floor, and cross her delicate hands atop the handle. She aimed an unexpected smile and nod at Sarah then fixed Mr. Stilley with an amused expression.

“Am I to understand that there’s chocolate for sale in this establishment?”

Mr. Stilley’s face lit like sunshine. “Step back, folks.” He waved a dismissive hand in Sarah’s direction. “Make way for these good people.”

Henry jumped as if poked with a hatpin. “Yessuh, Mr. Stilley,” he mumbled then shuffled aside, pushing Sarah along with him, his eyes shifted to the floor.

Sarah gritted her teeth and turned away, too late to hide her disgust from Henry.

He winced as if he’d been struck and ducked his head again.

Mr. Stilley took hold of the wooden crate, pulled it from Sarah’s side of the counter, and presented it to the three breathless women with a flourish. “You heard right, ma’am, but only half the story. It’s not just chocolate I have here. There’s genuine imported Swiss in this box, and at a reasonable price.” He pushed the container a bit closer to the lively one. “Go on, then. Help yourself.”

“Imported Swiss?” the swanky lady squealed, in a manner not fit for civilized company. “Perfect!” She rummaged, looking for the biggest of the lot, took a sizable wedge in each hand, and turned to the girls behind her. “Would you look at this? Have you ever seen as much pure pleasure?” She handed a chunk to Magdalena then tossed one to little Bertha, who juggled to keep from dropping it. “I do love this delightful concoction,” she cooed at Bertha. “Don’t you, honey?”

Bertha stared with big eyes at the wrapped brown block. “I’ve never tried it.” She brought the confection closer for a sniff. “But it smells divine.”

Sarah could smell it just fine from where she stood. All the stirring of the box had raised a rich, pungent cloud that hovered in the room, setting Sarah’s mouth to watering. She tasted sweetness at the back of her throat.

The woman gasped. “You say you’ve never tried it?”

Magda leaned forward and stared at Bertha. “Come now, dear. Of course you have.” She let go an uneasy laugh. “You’ll have Annie thinking we’re tight-fisted hicks.”

Bertha gave a determined shake of her head. “I’ve had it mixed in milk before and once in cake. But never like this.” She turned it over in her hands, leaving smeared spots beneath the clear wrapper where her fingers gripped. “What’s it like, Annie?”

At first the woman named Annie looked at Bertha as though she didn’t believe her. Then she spun around to the wooden box and set to scooping up sweet-smelling hunks with both hands. “There’s a remedy for this cruel injustice, my dear. Never fear. You’re about to be enlightened.”

She unloaded the bundle of candy onto the counter in front of a beaming Mr. Stilley before reaching for one more piece. “There. That should just about do it. Now what do I owe for this child’s education?”

Sarah had never seen Stilley with such a big smile. He reached behind him, producing a tablet and a fat leaded pencil. “Very good, madam. Will that be all?”

Annie nodded. “Yes, I believe it will.”

The eager man bent over the pad, ciphering figures so fast Sarah waited for smoke to rise from his fingers; then he pushed the paper forward.

Without flinching, Annie reached for the reticule stashed at her side and pulled out more money than Sarah would see in two years’ time. After counting out what she owed, Annie pulled the wrapped pieces toward her and asked Mr. Stilley for something to tote them in.

He smiled and shook out a flour sack. “Here we are. Allow me to wrap them for you.” He opened the mouth of the sack and started to load her purchase, but she reached to stay his hand.

“Just a minute, if you please.” She waved her finger over the mound until she decided which one she wanted. “Ah, yes! This one will have no use for your bag, good sir.” She turned and flashed a smile with teeth as white as Henry’s. “Will it, girls?”

The three of them laughed together, acting so silly over a fool piece of candy that it set Sarah’s teeth on edge.

Annie took her bundle from Mr. Stilley and turned with a flourish. “Shall we go, ladies? We need to find a discreet spot and indulge ourselves to the full.”

Bertha held one finger aloft, a glint in her eyes. “I know just the place.”

Worry settled over Magda’s face. “Bertha. . .you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

Bertha dismissed her with a swish of her skirts. “Hush your fussing. You sound just like my mama. It won’t hurt a single thing for us to go there for a spell. Besides, who’ll know?” She shot a warning look over her shoulder. “Unless you tell.”

No one need bother telling Sarah. She knew right where they were going. The fifty-foot bluff overhanging the Big Cypress Bayou drew all the youngsters around Jefferson, no matter how much their parents fussed. It was the only place that would arouse the cornered-fox look in Magda’s eyes.

“Don’t be silly.” Offense straightened Magda’s spine, and her
nose went in the air. “I’d be daft to tell.”

Despite her raised chin and put out tone, she seemed less than convincing.

Annie clutched both their arms. “Let’s go, then. What are we waiting for?”

When they turned from the counter, Bertha’s face paled, and Sarah realized the girl had forgotten she and Henry were there. Sarah watched her weigh the chance she’d been overheard. Then good nature overcame Bertha’s fear, and she grinned in their direction. “Hey, you two.”

Henry answered for them both. “How you today, Miss Bertha?”

“Just fine, and you?”

“Oh, we doing all right.”

Bertha’s kind eyes settled on Sarah. “And your papa?”

Her daddy’s warm smile and merry eyes crowded Sarah’s mind, and she grinned. “Much the same, Miss Bertha. Thank you kindly for asking. He still gets the crimps in his knees of a chilly morn. Slows him down some, but mostly he’s all right.”

Bertha gave a sympathetic nod. “My papa suffers something fierce with that old rheumatism. Makes him dread the winter.”

“Tell him to carry a potato in his pocket,” Sarah said eagerly. “Draws the misery right out of your bones.”

Bertha’s brows met in the middle. “A potato?”

“Daddy swears by it.”

“Well, thank you kindly, Sarah.” Bertha reached to pat her arm. “I’ll pass that along to Papa.” She lifted her chin toward the smiling stranger. “This here’s my friend Miss Annie Moore from Cincinnati. Annie, meet Sarah and Henry King.”

Annie’s face lit with a sweet smile.

Sarah gave a brief nod of her head. Ill at ease in the company of the lady, she hurriedly changed the subject. “Been meaning to come by and tell you folks we got plenty of those turnips your mama be so partial to. Had a bumper crop this year. Come on around and pull some before they get stringy. You can take all you like. Henry just gon’ plow them under soon.” She glanced back at her husband.

“Ain’t that so, Henry?”

“It sho’ is.” Obviously pleased with her gesture, he flashed all his teeth. “That goes for you, too, Miss Magda.” His gaze lit briefly on the older woman before he squirmed and looked away. “Well, for all of you.”

Sarah tried to picture this Annie person kneeling in a turnip patch, but her imagination failed her. She doubted the woman knew what to do with a turnip.

“We’ll ride out and get some, then,” Bertha said. “It’s a generous offer.” She winked up at Henry. “I see Sarah got wind of Mr. Stilley’s new shipment. Bet your arm’s fairly sore.”

“My arm?” Henry rubbed his right shoulder. “Why you say that?”

Bertha grinned all over. “From the twisting Sarah gave it to get you in here.”

Sarah watched the meaning of the girl’s words fly over Henry’s head like southbound geese.

Bertha didn’t seem to notice. “Have you picked out something nice, Sarah? Something bright like you been pining for?”

Sarah shook her head. “We come for something else today. You see, Henry–”

“Don’t hold these ladies up, Sarah,” Mr. Stilley boomed behind them. “They want to be about their business.”

The woman called Annie took a tighter grip on Bertha’s arm. “You ready, sugar? It’s time to go. My man won’t sleep all day.”

Bertha turned and stared up at her companion as though hexed. “Yes, Annie. I’m ready.”

“Well, come on. Show me this mysterious place of yours so we can commence with your edification.”

Arm in arm, the three turned and made their way to the door, and Sarah wondered how they’d pass through linked up like a chain. Forgetting herself in her concern for Bertha, she called after them. “You girls be careful, now, you hear?” When they left the store, she spun around and made big eyes at Henry.

He smiled.

Mr. Stilley turned from watching the door and swiveled the box in their direction. “All right, now, Sarah. I believe you were just about to have some of this for yourself.”

Henry cleared his throat, anxious eyes on Sarah while he spoke. “Mr. Stilley, we’ve had a minute to ponder, and I believe we’ve changed our minds.”

Sarah smiled and nodded her approval. Her broad-shouldered, straight-backed husband became a giant in her eyes.

His gaze locked on hers, Henry crossed the room and rested his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “We decided Sarah might better have some nice ice cream or a soda drink instead.”

Mr. Stilley looked about, as if trying to figure how to produce the items Henry had named, his brows a puzzled line on his forehead. He nodded at the chocolate. “A minute ago, you had your mouth set for one of these.” He pushed the box toward Sarah, as if a closer look might change her mind. “Don’t you want to be the first of your kind in town to try it?”

Henry cleared his throat and pulled Sarah tighter against his side. “No, sir, she don’t. I think we’ll run on over to Mr. Nighthart’s and buy her something from the fountain.” He looked down at Sarah. “Ain’t that right, sugar lamb?”

She nodded.

Stilley glanced between them. “You folks sure?”

Sarah beamed up at Henry, feeling proud enough to pop. “Oh yes, we right sure. Never been more sure of a thing.”

Outside, Sarah stood on tiptoe and gave Henry a big kiss on the cheek.

He pushed her back and glanced around but had a wide grin on his face. “You ready for that soda drink now? Or maybe some ice cream?”

She cupped his strong chin in her hand, caressing the dimple with her thumb. “Reckon I already had myself a treat for the day. If I had my druthers, I’d sooner go back out to the house.”

“Home?” Henry frowned at her and scratched his head. “But I ain’t fetched you nothing yet.”

Every ounce of her love for him pushed to the surface and spilled over into her voice. “What you gave me in there tasted better’n a whole box of chocolates with ice cream on top and a soda to wash it down.” She lowered her lashes and dropped her voice to a whisper. “How about we go on home now and let me treat you?” She’d never said a thing so bold, and it brought a flash of heat to her cheeks.

Instead of the smile she expected, Henry tightened his jaw and brushed her aside. “I ain’t did nothing that special.”

“But you did. You–”

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her, none too gently, toward the rig. “Go on, woman. You want to go home, let’s get there. I got work waiting on me.”

She stumbled along, hastened by the pressure of his hand, so taken aback she hardly felt her feet touching the ground. “Henry,” she demanded over her shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“Ain’t nothing wrong. I got work to do, that’s all.”

Sarah ground to a stop and dug in her heels. If he pushed on her back till day’s end, she wouldn’t mount the wagon without knowing what had turned his mood. She faced him, letting the set of her jaw and flash of her eyes tell him she’d brook no more. “Henry King, if you’re swelled up because of what I said, then un-swell. I shouldn’t have talked so loose, but–”

“It wasn’t that.”

“It’s just that I’m so proud of you.”

“I said it wasn’t that!”

She took hold of his hands and peered up into guarded eyes. “Well, what, then?”

Henry jerked free and swept past, crossing to the rig and climbing aboard, leaving her to clamber up by herself. When he snapped the leads and Dandy pulled away from the boardwalk, Sarah sat so close to the far edge of the seat that she feared bouncing onto the ground at the first deep rut. But she preferred sprawling in the dirt to sitting next to her vexing man.

Not a word passed between them on the way. Sarah used the time to replay in her mind every detail of the day, desperate to pin
down what she’d done to anger him. It had never set well with Sarah to have a body displeased with her. Especially Henry. But given her quick temper and saucy ways, life had proved a peculiar dance up to that point.

She spent an unreasonable amount of time waltzing on people’s toes and then two-stepping her way out of trouble. Henry once said he considered her sassy mouth to be part of her charm and the very trait that first attracted him. But with the passage of time, he’d grown less enamored by her rowdy tongue.

When they turned down their lane, Sarah made a last cautious attempt to talk to him, but Henry offered a cold shoulder in return. By the time they reached the yard, hot rage had crowded out all desire to make up. She made her way down from her perch before Henry could offer his hand and swept out of the barn, leaving him to tend the rig and settle Dandy.

She stormed into the house and into their room, slamming the door behind her. Her shoes flew off one at a time with kicks that sent them crashing into the wall. Next came her dress, pulled overhead in angry jerks with the sound of ripping seams. She yanked her nightshirt from the hook and stomped into it, tossing the torn dress into a heap by the bed. By the time she locked the door and slid beneath the quilt, she heard Henry’s heavy steps inside the house.

She listened while he walked from room to room. First the kitchen, then the parlor, and back again. He paused then crossed to the double windows that faced the side yard and outhouse. When next he moved, his determined stride led him just where she knew it would.