Happily Ever Afters Guaranteed (20 page)

She couldn't help a glance over Mr. Abbott's
skinny shoulders to the long case clock to gauge how much longer
she had to participate in tonight's event.

"I was hoping to speak to you tonight," Mr.
Abbott went on, apparently not noticing her inattention. "With your
father's permission, I'd like to take you on a buggy ride tomorrow
morning. I've just had the carriage resprung," he said as an aside
with a proud look at Penny's father.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," she
inserted before the men could decide for her. "I'm going to help
Mr. Silverton at the bank. Mrs. Shannon—the bank teller—" she
explained for Mr. Abbott's benefit, "just had her baby and he has
not been able to find a replacement yet."

She hadn't promised any such thing, but the
bank manager would indulge her if she arrived early enough. She had
no desire to spend time with her father's associate. Not only was
he older, much closer to her father's age than Penny's, but there
was something about him that made her uncomfortable…

"You know I don't like you working in the
teller window," her father hissed. To Abbott he said, "Our family
is certainly of a station that my daughter has no need to work. Of
course, her mother and I encourage her to help those less
fortunate—show compassion for the common man and all—"

Penny gritted her teeth, hoping her facial
muscles approximated a smile while the two men chuckled. While she
enjoyed the fine things her father's money bought, such as the
taffeta gown she wore this very moment, she didn't think that same
wealth gave her father reason to lord it over those around him.

The men's arrogant posturing bothered her,
and she allowed her mind to wander. Why had her father dismissed
the farmer so abruptly? The man seemed familiar to her, though she
couldn't recall a name. Had her father been in such a hurry to
partner her with Abbott that he'd been unnecessarily rude to the
man?

And why couldn't her father sense that she
had no interest in Mr. Abbott? Of all her father's associates,
there was something about Mr. Abbott that unnerved her. It wasn't
that he looked at her inappropriately, per se. But something behind
his eyes…

A man in a resplendent dark jacket
approached, and Mr. Castlerock was drawn into conversation, leaving
Penny and Mr. Abbott standing together.

"It seems a shame to waste the morning," he
said, turning his glittering gaze on her. "Are you sure you can't
get out of your commitment to the bank?"

Penny managed to keep her smile in place, but
it was a near thing. "I'm certain."

"Perhaps we can arrange for a buggy ride in
the evening, then," he pressed.

"Perhaps," Penny hedged. She knew an outright
refusal would be considered rude, but she didn't want to encourage
the man.

"I'm most interested in deepening our
acquaintance—"

Why must he push so?

"Oh!" She glimpsed a flash of fuchsia skirt
passing the doorway. "I've just seen a friend I absolutely must
speak to. Will you excuse me?" She inclined her head and scooted
away before he could respond.

Emerging in the hallway, Penny spied her
sixteen-year-old brother Sam sneaking into the kitchen and changed
her course to follow him. She slipped through the door, one hand
against her midsection as she tried to catch her breath. That had
been entirely too close for comfort—she had no wish to spend any
more time with Mr. Herman Abbott.

Sam's head jerked up from his station behind
the fancy chocolate cake that Ethel, the family's combined cook and
maid, had spent all morning baking.

"Sam, you'd better not be thinking of
disturbing the food for our guests. You know Papa is still angry
about the nasty words you painted on the side of the
schoolhouse."

At her admonishment, her brother's expression
changed from guilt to something colder. "I told you that was Billy,
not me."

She didn't know whether to believe him or
not. He'd been in plenty of trouble all on his own, including the
horse he'd tried to steal right off Main Street, and as of late she
had difficulty identifying if he was lying or not.

"Just don't do anything to cause trouble
tonight," she chided him.

"We just want a taste of cake, that's
all."

Her eyebrows went up. "We?"

"Me 'n Louie." Sam tipped his head to the
side and Penny's gaze followed to the window, where the shadow of a
head and shoulders could be seen.

"Papa wouldn't let him come to the party—"
And no wonder. She'd never seen Sam's friend wear anything but
torn, stained clothing. He probably didn't own a Sunday suit and
wouldn't have fit with her father's associates.

The comparison made her think of the farmer,
who hadn't fit in at all, but there had been something about him
that had drawn her…

"—and we just want a taste, anyway."

"Sam…" she warned. She had a bad feeling that
this would lead to trouble for her brother.

"Aw, why don't you go back to your beau and
leave me alone?"

Penny hoped he wasn't talking about Mr.
Abbott. The stubborn tilt of her brother's chin told her he wasn't
going to listen, so she turned to leave. She spared him one more
glance as she returned to the gathering. Sam motioned his friend to
come in the back door.

"I can't believe you embarrassed me like
that. Herman said you just ran off and left him."

"I saw someone I needed to talk to—" Penny
tried to explain, but her father spoke over her words.

"While your impulsiveness might be charming
to your friends, I'm not certain it is a trait Herman is looking
for in a wife."

Penny opened her mouth to tell her father
that was just fine with her as she had no desire to have Mr. Abbott
for a suitor, when her father continued.

"Herman has asked for my permission to pay
court. It is his intention to marry soon. We've talked and decided
you'd make an excellent match."

Her mother's eyes came up from the afghan
bunched in her lap, but she remained still and silent on the parlor
sofa.

Penny couldn't contain a gasp. "Am I to be
settled like a business deal, then?" Agitated, she rose and paced
to the front window. "I don't like Mr. Abbott. I have no wish to be
courted by him or to consider marriage to him."

She didn't have to look in the reflection of
the glass panes to know her father's face was going red. "Herman is
one of my closest associates—"

"And that has nothing to do with whether he
would be an acceptable husband." Penny whirled to face her father.
"He is arrogant, speaks only of his own interests all the time.
Why, I doubt he even knows I like to paint!"

"Those things will come as he gets to know
you. You will allow him to come courting—"

"I won't—"

"You will, or you'll see your clothing
allowance severely curtailed. I have given Herman my word."

Penny shook all over, her anger was so
great.

"Darling, why don't you go up to bed?" her
mother suggested, ever the peacemaker. "Perhaps we can discuss
things further in the morning."

"There is nothing further to discuss—"

"Papa, can't I go to bed?" Sam interrupted
from his slouched position on the other settee.

"No! I'm not through with you, boy. I can't
believe you ruined a whole cake—there was no dessert to serve to my
guests—"

Penny turned and stomped away, knowing she'd
get no further with her father while he was in the midst of one of
his tirades. Thankfully, his attention had turned to Sam, but what
was she going to do?

Her mother followed her out of the parlor.
"I'll come up and help you unpin your hair."

Upstairs in her room, Penny fumed as she
nudged aside the romantic dime novel she'd been reading earlier and
settled on the chair in front of her looking glass.

How could her father do this to her?

Her mother appeared behind her in the
reflection and began removing the pins holding the intricate style
in place. Her fingers in Penny's hair were a comfort—as they'd been
throughout Penny's youth, whenever her father had lost his temper
over something insignificant. Like a grass stain on the knees of
her dress—the reason she was careful to look perfect at all
times.

"I can't believe Papa would do this…"

"Your father and I want what's best for you,
darling," came her mother's voice, muffled by pins pressed between
her lips.

"Well, it isn't Herman Abbott, no matter what
Father thinks."

"How can you know?" her mother asked, again
with her unending patience. "You should get to know him, allow him
to court."

I don't want to know him. Penny didn't voice
the thought. It seemed as if her mother already agreed with her
father's decision.

"But several weeks ago, I overheard him
telling Papa he didn't think our church should support the needy."
At the time, his words had shocked her in their callousness.

"Perhaps you misunderstood," came her
mother's unruffled response.

"But—"

"Your father and I want to see you settled.
You had a chance to make a match of your own when you were away at
finishing school. And when you came back from

Philadelphia without a husband three years
ago, we didn't push…"

The reminder of Penny's failure to land a
wealthy Eastern husband rankled. She'd known her father had been
disappointed, but none of the men she'd met had caught her
interest. She was only twenty-three, not an old maid yet.

"Give Mr. Abbott a chance."

"But—" Penny grasped onto the first thing she
could think of. "What about love?" She tapped the romance novel
with her index finger.

Her mother's expression flickered in the
looking glass. "Love comes later."

"Like it did for you?" Penny asked. She
immediately regretted the impertinent question. Why couldn't she
control her impulsive tongue better?

"I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean that."

Her mother was silent.

"But…what about—don't you remember what it
was like between Grandfather and Grandmother?"

As a child, Penny had been allowed to spend
summers with her maternal grandparents, who lived on a homestead a
day's ride away. Even in the reduced circumstances they'd lived in,
Penny had been awed by the love her grandparents had shared. They
never seemed to argue, always put each other's needs first.

It had been a stark contrast to the
relationship her parents shared, where her father made constant
demands and her mother never stood up for herself.

Her mother finished removing the pins and
shook out Penny's long, curly tresses. She reached for the
silver-plated hairbrush on Penny's dressing table.

"Your father has not always been the easiest
man to live with," she finally said.

Penny thought of the tirades, her father's
unmercifully high expectations. She knew the Good Book said to
honor thy father and mother, but didn't it also say fathers,
provoke not your children?

"But neither was your grandfather."

Her mother's surprising statement brought
Penny's eyes back up to meet hers in the looking glass. She
couldn't imagine her gentle, quiet grandfather in a temper.

"Never having enough money for new dresses,
or boots…" Her voice trailed off, obviously she was lost in the
past.

Penny gazed at the skirt of the beautiful
peach gown her father had allowed her to have for tonight's event.
She fingered the soft lace at her wrist. It was an exquisite gown.
And she had several more, just as fine…

"You must give Mr. Abbott a chance," said her
mother at last, putting the brush back on the table.

Penny didn't argue with her, but her mind was
made up. She would never accept Herman Abbott as a suitor. She just
needed to figure out a way to escape his attentions.