by Lorena Dove
One night after supper, she had an idea about working on the front display window while no one could see what she was doing from the street. She left Mrs. Maduro napping in her rocking chair, and crossed over from the cottage to the back of the store. Slipping her key in the back door, she turned the lock and—
“Who’s there?!” A low voice called out from the darkened stockroom.
“Why it’s Nathalie Luxe, who are you?” Nathalie said, entering through the door. She might have been afraid, but her common sense told her if this was a robber, it was better to confront him and keep him there until she could get the sheriff.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Nathalie!” She held up her lantern to see Pete rising from a pallet on which he had been sleeping on the stockroom floor.
“Peter, what in Heaven’s name are you doing sleeping in the store?”
Nathalie came inside and closed the back door. She crossed over to where the boy was now sitting, looking up at her with blinking eyes.
“Peter, have you been sleeping here every night? What about your Ma? Isn’t she worried about you?”
“Ain’t got no Ma, Miss Nathalie. Nor a Pa neither,” Pete said.
“You mean—you’re living here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I guess I thought Isadore told you. He knows—at least, I think he does. Anyway, do you want me to head out then?”
“Of course not, where would you go? But I thought your family lived over in Thomson Creek? Maybe you better tell me what’s going on, and then I can decide.”
Nathalie pulled up a crate and sat down near Pete on the floor. The two of them alone, with just the brooding light of the coal oil lantern between them, gave Pete courage that he usually didn’t feel in the light of day.
“Well, it’s like this. I’m an orphan; I don’t have a Ma or Pa, at least not since I’ve been about 3 years old. Lived 10 years in an orphanage in Pennsylvania, where my aunt took me after my mother died. Least that’s what the folks at the orphanage told me.
“’Round about the time I turned 13, the lady that ran the orphanage came and talked to all the older boys. Said we had to make room for the younger ones. Said there was always new ones a-comin’ and not enough of us older ones a-leavin’. A train was comin’ through our town the next day, with a special car just for us orphans. She said we’d be going to new families and living in real homes.
“The other boys and I were happy. Seemed like a great adventure, and at the end of it would be a family to finish growing up with. As the miles wore one, we found out the towns we were going to were full of farm families. At every station, we got out of the orphan car and stood on the train platform. Felt kinda like a horse or a mule, the way the farmers looked us boys over.”
Nathalie shook her head but smiled at Pete’s description. She understood the unsettled feeling of riding town to town on a train.
“The older and stronger boys were the first to be picked. I’ve always been a bit slight for my age—but I am strong! I just don’t quite look it. Anyways, I was one of the last ones picked, right about as the train run out of line!”
Pete stopped and laughed, even though Nathalie could see that the story pained him to tell.
“It must have been awful nice to finally have a family, Peter. Wasn’t it?”
“I thought it was,” Pete said. “But old Man McGraw—that’s what I called him to myself, I guess his name is Mr. McGraw to everyone else—he didn’t like me. Said I was a slip of a boy and not worth what he paid the train conductor for taking me off his hands. Started out I got to eat with the family and sleep in my own bed, but I hurt my leg and had to take it easy for a few weeks. Mr. McGraw said I was just another mouth to feed and not doing my share. He told me to make my bed in the hayloft with the animals until I could earn my keep. I heard him tell Mrs. McGraw he was going to get his money’s worth out of me before I turned 18. I decided—well, I decided I’d have better luck out on my own.”
Nathalie sat quietly while Pete talked, but the story of his mistreatment burned an angry hole in her heart.
“Did you know I’m an orphan, too?” she said quietly.
“You? Never would’a guessed it.”
“Yes, my mother died when I was very young and my father when I was nine.” Nathalie took a breath, but decided not to say how. “I was lucky, though. I lived with my grandfather all these years until I came here.”
“I hope you won’t tell the sheriff, Miss Nathalie,” Pete said. “I’m 15 now and in another couple of years, Mr. McGraw won’t have a claim on me. I just need work and a place to lay my head…”
“You’ll have both here,” Nathalie said. “Why don’t you come stay in the house though? I feel awful about you sleeping at the store.”
“No, no, Miss Nathalie. That wouldn’t do at all. See, this way, if I were to get caught, you won’t get in no trouble. No, if you took me in, you’d have to pay Mr. McGraw. I reckon he’s so mad he wouldn’t even take money. He just wants to get the sweat outta my hide.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Nathalie said. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes for both of them, seemingly abandoned and sitting in the back storeroom of a nearly empty store.
“Right. Well,” Nathalie shook her head, preferring the familiar feeling of work to the odd one of sentimentality. “I came over to get a start on cleaning up that front window, so I might as well get to it.”
“If you’re going to work, I’ll help you,” Pete said. He smiled at her in the soft light.
“That’ll be just fine, Peter,” she said, smiling back. “I can use the help of a strong man.”
Pete’s smile widened further and he jumped up and offered a hand to Nathalie before together they went into the store to work on the display.
***
Nathalie and Pete fell into a hard-working routine over the next few days. Joe had returned with flour, sugar, coffee, canned goods and even some peppermint sticks and other candy. He brought his wagon around to the back, and Pete helped him carry in the goods and place them where Nathalie directed. People in town stopped to say how much they liked the display Nathalie had arranged in the window, and they were surprised and happy when they found out there were more things to buy that they needed on their farms and claims.
Still the shelves were quite sparse and Nathalie wasn’t satisfied with the inventory that Joe had access to. One night, she asked Mrs. Maduro whether it would be wise to offer farm implements or other ironware in the store.
“Well, child, you can certainly do what you like with your money,” Mrs. Maduro said. “Mrs. Higgens and Mrs. Jamison have told me they are happy with your offerings for now. They still can’t help driving down to Faring once a month though…”
“What for? What do they get in Faring?” Nathalie asked.
“Well, they’re just used to the variety they get at Pavente’s store. Good sausages and cheese, different kinds of tea, cinnamon, you know; the extras.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathalie said. “I can find a supplier for those items too, can’t I?”
“You didn’t ask before,” Mrs. Maduro said. “I suppose people don’t miss what they never had, and since Isadore never stocked those items, well, the people just figure it takes a trip to Pavente’s to get them.”
Nathalie was glad Mrs. Maduro couldn’t see her face. She tried keeping her voice even when she said, “Isadore didn’t know much about storekeeping when he took over, did he?”
“You’re right about that. But don’t be cross.”
Nathalie took in her breath, surprised that Mrs. Maduro could tell. She waited.
“Isadore is not like other men,” Mrs. Maduro said. “He’s a hard worker, don’t get me wrong. But he’s got a heart for beauty, not business.”
“Then why is he studying for the law?”
“He finds beauty in justice. It suits him to turn a wrong into a right. I’ve tried to tell him, that’s not always the way it turns out; in fact, it hardly ever is. But he�
�s a believer in the good in people.”
“You’ll get taken to the cleaners if you believe that in business,” Nathalie snorted. She instantly regretted her cynical tone. “I mean, I’ve seen the good and the bad in people, and I believe you’ve got to protect yourself.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Maduro said. Then she looked right at Nathalie as if she could see her face. “But sometimes, sometimes, Nathalie, you have to let down your guard. I like you; I think you’re honest, and I like what I’m hearing about the store. For you to come all this way, and take care of me and put in long hours at the store—those qualities go a long way with me. If there was one thing I would say, it would be to give your heart a chance.”
“If you mean give Isadore a chance, well, he’s not here for me to give a chance to, is he?” Nathalie hated that she couldn’t control her feelings. She didn’t mean to sound so bitter.
“I know. I know. It’s hard to wait and wait and wonder… But I believe it’ll work out in the end.”
Nathalie smiled, and this time her voice was softer. “Thank you for understanding,” she said. “I want to see what may happen. But I’m not sure Isadore is the right man for me.”
Mrs. Maduro nodded and the creak of her rocking chair filled the room.
***
The next morning, Nathalie rose earlier than usual and went to the kitchen to lay out some bread and put hot tea in a pot to keep warm for Mrs. Maduro. Wrapping her shawl around her and tying on her bonnet, she walked to the store to check on Pete.
He was already at the counter, wiping down some jars and getting ready to open the door promptly at 7:00.
“Pete, do you mind taking care of things on your own today? I’ve a mind to take a trip over to Faring and visit Pavente’s Store. I want to do a little scouting of our competition.”
“Competition? Why, we’ve got no competition around for miles, right?”
“It appears we do,” Nathalie said. “Anyway, it’s what we did in New York to keep up with what the other stores were offering. We couldn’t afford to fall behind and not have the very latest on our shelves.” Seeing the surprised look on Pete’s face, Nathalie burst out laughing. “Don’t worry! I’m not going to run off! I’m just taking the day. I’ll be back tonight.”
With that, she walked down the street to the unfinished train station to look for Joe. She knew he kept his cart there in the mornings, and hoped she’d be able to ride with him on his rounds through the county.
“Well, you’re out bright and early today, Nathalie!” Joe called as he saw her approach. “Got another supply list for me?”
“Not now, Joe,” Nathalie said. “But I wonder if it wouldn’t be too much trouble if I rode with you to Faring today. Would you mind taking me along?”
“Can’t say that I mind… Can’t say that I don’t mind. Either way, it’s fine with me.”
Nathalie laughed at took Joe’s hand to help her up into the wagon. In a minute they were off driving through the plains.
She still hadn’t gotten used to the sparse landscape, but as they rode along in the early morning light, Nathalie saw a beauty in the waving grass stretching over low hills for miles around. As the sun rose higher, the sky changed color from rosy blue to a paler shade of blue, and giant white clouds blew in soft herds across its long expanse.
“Joe, this is beautiful,” Nathalie exclaimed.
He nodded and they continued on in companionable silence.
When they got to town, Joe left her off in front of Pavente’s store. “I’ve got to pick up some packages and will be back for you in an hour,” he said. “Will that be long enough?”
“Yes, Joe. And thank you! It’s been fun to get out in the fresh air.”
Joe gave her a funny look. Spending all of his days outdoors, the concept of not being in the fresh air meant nothing to him. “Whatever you say, Nathalie. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Nathalie took a good look at Pavente’s Store from the outside, using her appraiser’s eye to size it up. A green awning with white stripes stretched across the doorstep and over the display window, giving passersby a pleasant place to stop in the shade and window shop. She made a mental note of it and determined it would be first on her list of outdoor improvements to make.
The display window was a little chaotic to her liking, filled with large cheese wheels covered with trays of sausage and jars of pickled vegetables, right next to bolts of cloth and small stools, sewing supplies, and surrounded by household implements like butter churns, wash boards and metal basins. Somehow, it had a happy look, though less formal than the stylized display she had made of canned goods, sacks of flour and a table set with tea cups.
She waited outside to see what sort of traffic the store was getting. People had started their morning rounds and buggies came and went up and down the street to the livery and post office. Families coming in to town would tie up at an available post, and scatter in several directions. The women nearly all made a beeline to Pavente’s as the men made the rounds to several suppliers. Each time the door opened, she could hear laughter and –what was that? Music! She hadn’t heard a record being played since she left New York. The music drew her directly to the door, and as she reached for the handle, it was flung open by a small man in an apron.
“Come in! Come in! I saw you standing there in the sun, come in and get cool! Would you like some lemonade? Mrs. Pavente has some on the counter for our friends.”
The energetic older man smiled with his whole face, his eyes crinkling and his mouth laughing even as he talked. He hustled Nathalie in to the shop and continued outside with his broom where he proceeded to sing out loud as he swept the front steps.
Several women looked up at the sound of the bell, but when they didn’t recognize Nathalie, went back to their selections. One woman called to her from behind the counter: Mrs. Pavente herself.
“Welcome! Come in! I know you are new to my store, I know all my customers. Come in child, I am Mrs. Pavente, please, welcome!”
Nathalie was overcome by the boisterous greeting. This isn’t how she had planned to do her surreptitious snooping on the store’s business. She found herself drawn to the happy woman and a smile crept over her face.
“Thank you, I’m Nathalie Luxe, from Springvale. This is my first time here. What a lovely store!” Nathalie meant it. Though bursting at the seams and overflowing in every aisle, the friendliness of the storekeepers and the happy sound of customers were like a tonic to her.
Soon Nathalie was sitting on a stool at the end of the front counter, drinking a glass of the most delicious lemonade she had ever tasted.
“Where did you get the lemons?”
“Oh, Mr. Pavente, he has connections with the train conductors!” Mrs. Pavente said. “He makes sure they have good sandwiches to eat, and they bring us a case of lemons here, a box of fresh tomatoes there. Whatever they see that is selling well in the larger towns, they bring to us.”
Nathalie was in awe. She never thought about going out of the usual supply chain for goods. She had a lot to learn about owning a store at the end of a railroad line. She watched the customers come and go, each called by name by the Paventes and fussed over as if he or she was the only person in the shop. A group had just finished paying, and among their good-byes and waves, a young woman came in to the store holding the hand of her small daughter.
“Giovanna, Rosa!” Mrs. Pavente’s voice sung out. This time, she didn’t make her greeting from behind the counter, but came out front to hug the young woman and lift the girl onto her hip. “Come meet my new friend, Nathalie.”
Giovanna walked over and stretched out a slender hand. “Hi, I’m Giovanna Gundersen; you can call me Jo,” she said, smiling.
“And this little peach is Rosa!” Mrs. Pavente said as she whisked past. “Come darling, I have a special cake made just for you in the back…”
“Hi, I’m Nathalie Luxe,” said Nathalie and she shook Jo’s hand. “I’m from Springvale, and it’s my first time
in Faring.”
“You’ve come to the right place, then,” Jo said. “Everyone comes to meet each other at Pavente’s. Are you here shopping or waiting for your husband?”
“I’m not married,” Nathalie said.
“Oh, excuse me, of course!” Jo said, looking down at Nathalie’s ringless hand. “How rude of me. To be honest, I’m new here, too; I’ve only been here one year. I would never have come if my husband hadn’t sent for me,” Jo said, somehow feeling safe telling the truth about how she came to meet her husband, Laars. “I think it was meant to be. Laars says I saved him, but I know he definitely saved me and my Rosa.”
Jo happily patted her stomach and Nathalie noticed for the first time that she was expecting. “My husb—I mean my business partner, Isadore Maduro, sent for me as well,” Nathalie said. “He’s had to go off as a circuit riding judge, though. I’m not sure what will happen between us.”
“My husband knows Isadore,” Jo said. “I’ve heard only good things about him. Tell me, do you have baby things at your store? Mrs. Pavente hasn’t quite kept up with cradles or booties.”
“No, but it’s a wonderful idea!” Nathalie said. She smiled at her new friend. “I will order them and bring them to you myself, unless you can still travel.”
“I’ll have Laars bring me, just to visit you,” Jo said. “There aren’t that many women our age here, and I feel as though we both could use a friend.”
Just then, Mrs. Pavente returned with Rosa at her side.
“Mama, may I look at the candy?” Rosa said.
Mrs. Pavente laughed and went to help a customer at the cash register.
“Rosa, it looks like you’ve had enough sweets for today,” Jo said as she wiped the chocolate frosting from her daugher’s face. “Say hello to Miss Luxe.”
“Hello,” Rosa said.
“Hello, Rosa, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Just then Rosa saw something that caught her eye out the window.
“Mama, I see Papa talking to Mr. Pavente. May I go outside?”
“Yes, go ahead; it’s safer there than in here with all the sweets!” Jo moved around the store and gathered the items she needed. Returning to the counter, she spoke to Nathalie again.
