Second Chance Hero (13 page)

He nodded, a bit puffed up by her enthusiastic praise. “I'll come by tomorrow to look for it and maybe run through the song a couple of times just to make certain I can play it smoothly at Thursday's practice session.”

“I'll be glad to help you with that if you like.”

He definitely liked. But should he agree?

She spoke up again before he could decide. “It might be good for us to run through it together so we can decide whether to have the children sing it as a group or break it out by verses like we're doing the others.”

How could he say no to that? “Of course.” They'd reached his shop by then and he opened his door. “Would you like to continue our discussion inside?”

She started to say something then glanced down the sidewalk and her expression changed. “I think we're done for now. I'll let you get back to work.”

He followed her gaze and saw Belva approaching. He turned back to her and nodded. “I'll see you at the church tomorrow then. Shall we say four o'clock?”

With a nod and a wave, she retraced her steps as far as the dress shop. He watched as she stepped inside, then he turned to greet Belva.

* * *

Verity didn't tarry long at Hazel's. Joy, naturally, didn't want to part from Buttons but reluctantly followed her mother out. Verity determinedly kept her gaze on her daughter as they walked past Nate's shop, though she was quite tempted to look. Were he and Belva laughing the way they'd been the last time she saw them together?

Nate had said Belva was stopping by to discuss her saddle design. What was there about saddle design that needed further discussion once the order had been placed?

Verity didn't like the idea that she was giving jealousy a toehold in her heart, but there was no denying she had. If she couldn't control her heart, she at least had to control where she let her thoughts take her.

With that in mind, she turned to her daughter. “So, Joy, what did you think of choir practice today?”

“It was fun.”

“And what was your favorite part?”

“It was when Mr. Cooper practiced with our group. He has a nice voice.”

It seemed Nate had managed to steal her daughter's heart, as well.

She let Joy's happy chatter, which required very little response, carry them the rest of the way home.

* * *

Nate listened to Belva's suggestions and took the appropriate notes. Back when he had been working part-time at the boardinghouse, Belva had gotten into the habit of chatting with him while he chopped wood or performed some of the other maintenance chores her aunt had lined up for him.

He wasn't sure why she'd taken to him the way she had—perhaps it was because she was fairly new to town herself and hadn't made any close friends yet. Or perhaps it was because, as she'd told him recently, he reminded her of a schoolteacher she'd had when she was younger, a man she admired and trusted very much. Whatever the case, it seemed he'd become a confidant of sorts for her. She'd confided secrets that she hadn't shared with anyone else. He hadn't reciprocated, of course, which made him feel even more of a fraud. But he hadn't asked to be put into that role, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

All that being said, normally he enjoyed her chatter—she almost felt like a younger sister—but today his mind was on Verity.

The doctor's niece was beginning to look at him with a certain softness, a certain interest that he couldn't mistake. The thing was, he wasn't sure if she liked him for who he truly was, or if she still had some kind of misguided sense of gratitude that she was mistaking for something deeper. And the answer to that mattered a great deal to him.

Whatever the case, he wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain a “just friends” attitude, especially when she looked at him with those lovely eyes of hers and that sweet smile on her lips. And even worse was this gnawing guilt that he was lying to her by omission.

The time was drawing near when he'd have to summon the courage to tell her his past.

And once he did, he wouldn't have the problem of having her look at him with such admiration at all.

“Mr. Cooper.”

Belva's voice pulled him back to the present. “Yes.”

She had a fist planted on her hip. “I don't think you've heard anything I've said for the past few minutes.”

He didn't bother denying the accusation. “I'm sorry. What were you saying?”

She relaxed and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing much. Just nattering on like always. But it looks like this time, it's you who needs to talk. Anything I can help with?”

“Oh, it's nothing. I'm just distracted today.” He tapped his notebook with his pencil. “I think I have your new specifications down and I don't see any problems incorporating them in the final product. Was there anything else?”

She shook her head. “That's all for now. I can't wait to see the finished saddle.”

“Have you told your aunt about your horse yet?”

“I'm going to wait until the very last minute. I'm afraid something will happen to spoil my plans if I tell too many people.” Then she gave him a little wave. “Thank you again. And remember, if you need someone to talk to, I'm available.”

Someone to talk to—that would be very welcome. But the only person here he could safely confide in was Adam, and Adam was a big part of his dilemma.

Because his story wasn't his alone. If he ever reached the point where he was ready to talk about his time in prison and what he'd done to land him there, if the person he told was an intelligent person, she might begin to wonder just how he and Adam met. And Nate would
not
allow himself to be the cause of speculation about Adam's past.

No matter how uncomfortable keeping secrets from certain people made him.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he next few days passed in a pleasantly busy fashion for Verity. She met Nate at church Wednesday afternoon as they'd planned, and together they practiced the new song in what Verity thought of as perfect harmony. Singing with him had become a treasured experience for her. She loved the way their voices intertwined, the way his gaze held hers when they sang, the way they seemed to instinctively be able to anticipate one another. Perhaps, sometime soon, she could convince him to perform a duet with her during the Sunday service.

In the end they decided to go with the first three verses of “America” for the program and to let the children perform it as a group rather than assigning parts.

At Thursday's practice session, Verity had them start out by running through “Jesus Loves Me,” the song they'd practiced during the prior session, a couple of times and then she introduced “America” as the replacement for “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” By the end of the hour-long session she was well pleased with their progress.

By the time Friday rolled around, Verity had Eula Fay's hat completed. The mayor's wife seemed delighted with the result, lavishing effusive praise on Verity. It was enough to make her begin to think that perhaps she might just be ready to open her millinery business after all.

Despite his teasing comments earlier in the week, Nate didn't join them on Saturday for their weekly tea, but Verity hadn't really expected him to.

Belva, however,
did
join them. The other members of the group welcomed her and seemed genuinely delighted to learn she was joining the choir.

Despite the remaining pinprick of jealousy, Verity couldn't help but like the girl. She was perpetually optimistic, had a bit of coltish awkwardness about her and was always willing to pitch in and help where she could.

And later, at choir practice, she proved to have a tolerable enough voice to blend in with the rest of the group.

After choir practice, Hazel approached her. “Come with me and stop by the shop on your way home. There's something I want to show you.”

Verity had hoped to walk with Nate but hid her disappointment. “Of course. Is it something to do with the choir smocks?”

“No questions—it's a surprise.”

Verity rolled her eyes—Hazel and her love of the dramatic. But it was always easier to go along with her than try to argue.

“So, how are things going between you and Mr. Cooper?” her friend asked.

“He's been a big help to me with the children's choir. He has a way about him that they all respond to.”

Hazel gave her a little nudge. “I didn't ask how he was getting along with the children. I asked how he was getting along with
you
.”

Verity waved a hand airily. “We've become good friends, and of course I have no complaints about his performance as a musician.”

Hazel gave her a severe frown. “You, my dear, can be a most frustrating friend. I want details, not boring platitudes.”

Verity placed a hand over her heart in feigned shock. “Boring?”

“Don't play the innocent with me, Verity Magdalena Leggett. You know exactly what I mean.”

Verity laughed. “Let's just say we get along very well.” By this time they'd reached Hazel's shop. “Now, what is this surprise you wanted to show me?”

“Patience, my dear.” Hazel opened the door and led the way inside.

Verity's gaze went immediately to a dress form in the center of the shop. Draped on it was a lovely dress fashioned from that same shadow-blue fabric she had so admired last week.

She moved closer to examine it. Hazel had done an amazing job of keeping it simple but at the same time giving it a special feel. The slightly flared skirt was trimmed on the bottom with two rows of a darker blue ribbon, as was the waistband. The sleeves were puffed from the shoulder and then gathered at the elbow and snug on the forearm. Again there was dark trim on the bodice, but here it was done in a vertical pattern that Verity could tell would be quite flattering to the wearer.

“So, what do you think?”

Verity turned to her friend. “It's really lovely. I knew this fabric would drape beautifully, but I think you outdid yourself here. You should have no trouble selling this one.”

“Oh, it's not for sale.” Her friend had a very smug look on her face. “I made it for you.”

Verity was taken aback. She couldn't accept such a gift. And yet...

“And before you say anything,” Hazel continued, “you should know that I won't take no for an answer. In fact, I will be highly insulted if you don't accept my gift since I went to a lot of trouble to tailor it just for you.”

Verity fingered the dress, enjoying the suppleness of it. It had been a long time since she'd had a new dress, at least one that wasn't made from pieces of other dresses and a new bit of ribbon or trim. “If I do accept it,” she said carefully, “then you must at least let me pay for it.” She'd find the money somehow.

“If you insist on repaying me, you can make one of your fabulous hats just for me and I will consider us even.”

Verity knew it wasn't an even trade but she nodded agreement. She'd find other ways to repay her friend.

“Good.” Hazel stepped forward to remove the dress from the form. “Let me just package this for you and you can take it home with you. And I expect to see you wearing it at church tomorrow.”

A few minutes later Verity was headed toward home, a package in her arms and the humming melody of a song on her lips.

Yes, all in all, it had been a good week. And she had the glimmer of an idea how to make tomorrow even better.

Clothed in this new dress, she might just find the courage to translate her idea into action.

* * *

“There's something I'd like to talk to you about,” Nate said as he followed Adam into the study.

Adam had invited him to join his family for supper Saturday evening and Nate had gladly taken him up on it. The meal was over now, and he and Adam had moved from the dining room to the study.

“Of course.” Adam took a seat in one of a pair of large leather chairs that fronted the desk and signaled Nate to take the other.

Once seated, Nate rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure how to start.

Adam steepled his fingers. “Would this, perchance, have anything to do with Mrs. Leggett?”

Nate noted the amused glint in his friend's eyes and nodded sheepishly. “Am I so obvious?”

“Let's just say I've noted the glances you've been giving each other.” He propped his left leg on his right knee as he leaned back. “So, is it serious?”

Nate had no problem answering that question. “If you're asking if I'd like to pursue something more than a mere friendship with her, then the answer is yes.”

“So why did you feel the need to speak to me about this rather than her? Do you want some information about her?”

“No, nothing like that. The thing is, I don't think I can take this any further without being honest with her about my past.”

“I see.”

He couldn't read anything one way or the other in Adam's demeanor. Did his friend understand what the implication was? “Of course I don't plan to mention anything about your connection to any of this. But Mrs. Leggett is an intelligent woman.” It was one of the things he admired about her. “She might very well put some of the pieces together.”

“Nate, I know I've told you that my history is not well-known around here. But that wasn't meant to keep you from telling your own story if you felt the need.” He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “The people who matter the most to me know all about my history. As for the rest of my friends and neighbors here—” he shrugged “—I hope I've proven myself to them in the three years that I've lived here. But, if some choose to believe the worst, then I'd like to think I can survive that.”

He gave Nate a pointed look. “If Mrs. Leggett is important to you, and you feel led to tell her your story, then don't let any concerns about my feelings hold you back.”

Nate felt humbled by his friend's trust. “Thanks. Mind you, I don't plan to tell her tomorrow, and it may not be next week, or next month, or even at all. I just needed to know that, if the time does come, I won't be betraying any spoken or implied confidence between us.”

Later, as Nate walked home, he thought over what Adam had said. His family and close friends knew the truth and still accepted him. Of course, in Adam's case, he had been innocent of the crime he'd been imprisoned for. Not that his innocence had ever been officially established. Still, that had to have played into how those who knew his story viewed him.

Would that same kind of trust be afforded to him?

He supposed that depended on whom he told his story to. And how he told it.

This wasn't something he could figure out on his own. Bowing his head, he offered up a prayer, asking for guidance.

* * *

After church on Sunday, Verity approached Nate with a lunch invitation. “Aunt Betty has cooked a lovely pot roast and there is plenty to go around.”

“Thank you, I'd be quite pleased to accept your invitation.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Should I bring Beans? For Joy to play with, I mean?”

One of the things that endeared him to her was the bond that had formed between him and her daughter. “Of course. She'd like that.”

Then, emboldened by the pretty new dress she wore, she gathered up her courage to take her invitation one step further. “Aunt Betty's been after me to gather some dewberries so she can make a cobbler. I thought, after lunch, I might take care of that for her. You're welcome to come along with me if you like.”

He hesitated, and she thought for a moment he would decline. Had she been too forward after all? But he finally smiled and nodded. “It's a fine day for an outing and I'd be happy to repay your aunt with such a pleasant chore.”

Verity exhaled the breath she hadn't been aware until now that she held. Issuing such an invitation to a single gentleman had called for a forwardness she hadn't been sure she had in her. It had felt both scary and exhilarating. Hazel would be proud.

She smoothed the skirt of her new dress. Perhaps she should have followed Hazel's advice and added some color to her life a long time ago.