Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel (10 page)

“Greta, quit shilly-shallying and go on upstairs and help yourself, then come back down and we’ll have a nice cup of tea.” She gave Greta a gentle nudge as she glanced at Jess for his approval.

“It’s all right.” Jess nodded. “We’ll figure something out about the puppy, but please, no more heroics.” He grinned, still holding the squirming puppy, and she relaxed somewhat.

Greta bolted up the stairs. She slowly opened the door, feeling like an intruder. With a quick look about the room, she wasn’t surprised to see that one side was tidy and the other side, which must have been Jess’s, was in a jumble. She closed the door behind her and found the soap next to the sink, with water in a white pitcher. Looking at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, she had to laugh. No wonder Agnes was giving her strange glances. She looked a fright. Much like her sister Anna did when she returned from an afternoon out chasing butterflies or painting.

Without warning, hot tears filled Greta’s eyes. She did miss her little sister. She’d try to write her sisters tonight and fill them in on things since her arrival.

After washing her face, she patted it dry and wiped off some of the mud flecks from her dress. Slowly she tiptoed over to Jess’s area of the living quarters. There was a worn easy chair pulled close to the window overlooking the street. A table next to it held a Bible and a cup of coffee, and scattered on the floor were catalogs of various themes. His bed was not made and she was tempted to do it for him, but that would be too personal. A pair of brogans and crumpled pants hung off the iron bedstead.

Zach’s side was very neat for a man, she thought. His shoes were tucked under the edge of the bottom rail of the bed, and a blanket was pulled up and tucked in, with his pillow on top. He didn’t appear to be in need of a woman’s touch. Jess, on the other hand . . . maybe the touch he needed was Agnes’s. Her countenance had certainly become brighter when she’d looked into Jess’s eyes.

Greta straightened her shoulders, trying to look more confident than she felt. It was time to get back downstairs and see what the rest of the day would hold. She wanted to learn more about the beautiful Agnes.

9

“Do you live in town, Granny?” Cora was asking as Greta returned to the store area.

Granny gave a short chuckle. “Nearly. I live on Gregory Street in Black Hawk, which juts right up against the city limits of Central City. Every town just kinda grows into the next in these parts.” She began preparing tea and glanced over at Jess and Zach, who stood talking near the front door and greeting customers as they arrived.

“I live with my brother on our ranch, the Circle D, but sometimes I stay in town for a couple of days at a time,” Agnes declared. “I get rather lonely on the ranch and enjoy riding to town.”

Greta joined the group of ladies. “I think I’ll suggest to Jess to allow us a small table and a few chairs off to the side for coffee or something cool to drink for our customers,” she whispered to Granny. “What do you think about that?”

“Greta, I really like that idea, but Jess may balk at the plan. He wasn’t happy about the way you arranged things,” she whispered back, leaning close.

“Oh, I’m not through yet, unless he throws me out.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a viable idea. Gives folks who’ve traveled to town a chance to refresh themselves. All you can do is ask him. With those blue eyes, I don’t see how he could ever refuse you, my dear.”

The older lady was direct, but she had a twinkle in her eye that was hard to miss.

“That’s sweet of you to say. That’s what I intend to do . . . but maybe another day.” Greta chewed her bottom lip. “I’m afraid my mind is always thinking about new ways to improve things.”

Granny looked at her closely. “You’ll be very good for my grandson.”

“What are you two twittering about?” Agnes interjected, sidling up to the counter next to Granny.

“If I know Greta, she’s up to something,” Cora responded as Greta and Granny moved apart.

“Oh, nothing important, really. Help yourself to a cup of tea, Miss Cartwright.” Greta reached for a clean cup from the tray but then paused. “Then perhaps I can help you with your shopping.”

“That would be heavenly, but please call me Agnes.” Her voice dripped with honey, Greta thought. Agnes removed her leather gloves and set them aside with her purse, then moved toward the tea tray. Her hand hovered over the teacups. Granny stiffened, and Greta wondered what could be the matter when her smile disappeared and her forehead wrinkled.

———

Jess poked Zach in the ribs, motioning for him to direct his gaze to the ladies. Granny was pursing her lips together. Jess hadn’t been counting on a third party choosing a cup, and he suddenly had a knot in his stomach. There were only two cups on the tray—the Country Rose and the Blue Willow. Their plan wasn’t going to work.

“On second thought, I’ve changed my mind. I’m meeting a friend this morning for brunch, so I’ll just wait,” Agnes declared.

Air escaped Jess’s lips as he realized he’d been holding his breath. Zach’s shoulders relaxed as Agnes moved away.

Granny lifted the teapot and poured the tea into the two cups. “You two go on ahead. I’ll go fetch another cup,” she said, but she didn’t move.

Cora reached for the rose cup. “What a beautiful rose pattern.” She carried the cup to the counter before taking a sip.

“I like the Blue Willow. My mother had a set like this in Holland,” Greta said, lifting the other cup. “Mmm, quite tasty!” she said after taking a small sip. She blew gently on the liquid before bringing the cup to her lips again.

“Yes, I agree.” Cora took several sips.

Jess watched as Greta’s pink lips rested sensually against the teacup’s rim, her luminous blue eyes looking thoughtful. Was she thinking of her family? It suddenly dawned on him that she’d chosen the Blue Willow and Zach would be courting her, not him.
Now why does it matter to me, since we move like a coyote and a hen in a chicken coop?

He grinned at Granny, who finally poured a cup of tea for herself and sat down on a stool behind the counter, giving him a wink.

Agnes cleared her throat politely, giving the young ladies a frank gaze. “Are you two new in town? I didn’t realize that Jess was hiring more help.”

Cora gave Greta a floundering look. Zach and Jess scooted over before Greta could form a reply.

“To answer your question, I’m courting Cora,” Jess announced, then stood beside her.

“And I’m courting Greta.” Zach winked at Greta, slipping his arm about her waist, and Greta tensed.

———

Greta’s heart thumped, and she caught a look of surprise crossing Cora’s face. When had the men decided that? It would’ve been nice if they’d shared the news privately. Her eyes locked with Jess’s, and while she didn’t know what he was thinking, she knew what
she
was thinking. She wasn’t going to let them choose between her and Cora like prize steer on an auctioneer’s block. Hardly! They had some explaining to do.

“Oh, that’s rich. I thought mail-order brides were
brides
and there was no courting involved.” Agnes snickered. “Isn’t that the whole point of a mail-order bride?”

“Weddings take time to plan, but that shouldn’t be a concern of yours, Agnes.” Zach squeezed Greta lightly.

Uncomfortable as she was, she wanted to tell him to stop squeezing her waist, but she held her tongue. She was supposed to marry one of them anyway. Wasn’t she? Greta swallowed, her mouth dry. “Well, actually, Cora and I haven’t decided if we’re staying or not. We’ve hardly been praised for all our hard work, and our accommodations have been sadly lacking.”

For a moment there was uncomfortable silence, then Cora said, “That’s right. We have to sort a few things out before we decide to stay or go.”

Greta glanced over at Cora in surprise. Greta hadn’t really meant to say what she did, but something drew her to put up a show for their sakes.

The brothers looked dumbfounded, and Granny humphed. “I think it’s very kind of my grandsons to give them a chance to get acquainted. My boys have never done anything the conventional way.” Her voice held a bit of a reprimand as she stared at Agnes.

Agnes’s eyebrows knitted together and her hands trembled slightly, but otherwise she appeared poised. “I see . . . Well, it’s none of my concern. I’m sorry if I inferred that it was my business.” Agnes inhaled. She appeared to dismiss the topic and asked, “Cora, I wondered if you could help me with picking a pattern and fabric for a new gown? I couldn’t help but notice the cut of your dress and the excellent detailing and quality.”

Cora flushed prettily. “Thank you, Miss Cartwright.”

“Please, call me Agnes, if you will. I’d like to find someone in Central City who knows how to sew a decent stitch. My last seamstress married and moved to Denver.”

“Oh . . . I’m no expert with a needle. Maybe Greta?”

Greta was grateful to have a reason to pull away from Zach. Not that she didn’t like him. On the contrary, but she wasn’t sure she liked being put on the spot that way. “I sew a little, but Cora makes excellent choices when it comes to choosing the proper material. Maybe the two of us can help you, though I’m not sure how much time we’ll have to spare to sew for you.”

“Well, maybe just one dress.” Agnes clearly wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I can pay you well. Shall we go take a look at some material?”

“Don’t let us stop you. Come on, Zach, we’d better start loading Mr. Smith’s supplies.” Jess’s gaze darted away from Greta’s. “Granny, are you going to stick around?”

“No, baby. I think I’ve accomplished what I set out to do this morning. I’ll see you at church on Sunday,” she said, rising from her stool. “Nice meetin’ your two brides, and I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you two in the future. I’ll have all of you down to Black Hawk for a good homemade meal. Agnes, I’m sure our paths will cross again soon.”

Agnes nodded, then Zach saw Granny to her wagon. She gave the horse a gentle whack with her whip and took off down the street into the throng of busy wagons, people, and horses. Greta decided she liked Granny’s forthrightness and looked forward to seeing her again.

The next hour was spent poring over a pattern book and bolts of material and trim, as Cora and Greta tried to please Agnes with what was already in stock. Cora was extremely patient with her, but Greta was just about at her wit’s end before they finally found something Agnes could agree on. To complement autumn’s arrival, they decided on a plaid challis—a mixture of wool and cotton—in hues of orange and brown that would work well with Agnes’s light brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Oh, that material is just perfect.” Agnes clapped her hands. “I’d like to get it made into a dress for a barbecue that I’m giving after the roundup in two weeks. Would you like to come? It’ll be fun, and all the folks around here look forward to my annual party.”

“I would enjoy it, Agnes. Thank you,” Cora said, picking up the scissors.

“Sounds like fun, and we can get to know some of the townsfolk. I’ll plan on coming too,” Greta replied.

Once Cora had taken Agnes’s measurements, she bent over the counter to cut the amount of yardage needed to make the dress. “Greta, why don’t you help Agnes pick out a complementary trim for her dress? I’ll bring this over to be rung up when I’m finished.”

“Oh, yes, would you help me with that, Greta?” Agnes asked. “I’m not very good at choosing colors.”

Greta looked around to make certain no one else needed assistance at the moment. Jess was gathering things into a box for a customer’s order, and Zach was busy hauling a sack of flour for another waiting customer. “I’d be glad to. It looks like Jess and Zach aren’t in need of me now. I’ve just organized the ribbon and trim, so if Cora will cut me a tiny swatch, we can match something up.”

“You certainly are knowledgeable about sewing, Greta, and Cora dresses with impeccable style.” Agnes lowered her voice. “I can’t help but wonder why she is working at all or why she wanted to become a mail-order bride. It’s apparent that she’s from a wealthy background. Hmm . . . something must be amiss.”

Greta pretended not to hear her last comment. She knew little of Cora’s past. She’d remained tight-lipped last night, so Greta didn’t know any more about her than she had the day before. Except that she really liked her.
Does Agnes mean I’m a shabby dresser?
But she knew what Agnes said was true.

“You’re right, Cora always looks her best. But I know a thing or two about sewing.” Greta handed Agnes a small wedge of fabric, and the two of them walked over to the shelves that Greta and Cora had restacked the day before.

Greta loved the smell of material and enjoyed sewing, but she’d never sewed for anyone else before. She reached out to choose several different rolls that she thought might trim the dress and held the swatch up against the material. “I think this one contrasts nicely with that deep brown.” She held a deep shade of yellow grosgrain ribbon against the swatch for Agnes to see.

“Are you sure I don’t need to use satin ribbon?”

Greta drew back slightly. “For a dress for a barbecue? I wouldn’t think so.” She shook her head. “Wouldn’t it be considered a more casual party—not formal?”

Agnes chewed her bottom lip, and Greta noticed how long her lashes were and how her brows arched naturally. She was really pretty. So why hadn’t Jess courted her?

“Yes, it’s casual,” Agnes answered after a moment. “We’ll have outdoor dancing and lots of food. It’ll be great fun, and I meant it when I said you and Cora are invited. I’m sure Jess and Zach will be happy to bring you. Which reminds me, I haven’t danced with Jess in a long time. Maybe Cora can spare him a dance with an old friend.”

“Mmm . . . you’ll have to ask her yourself,” Greta responded, quickly changing the subject. “If you’re happy with this, we can go tally up your order now.” Agnes nodded, and they moved to where Cora stood waiting next to the cash register.

Agnes reached out her hand to stop Cora from wrapping the material and sewing notions. “No need for that. If you and Greta are willing to try your hand at sewing this frock for me, I’ll let you keep it here. Then I’ll come for fittings,” she said, sliding her leather gloves on.