Imogene’s Ingenuity: The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides

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Imogene’s Ingenuity: The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Page 3

by Torres, Reina

She left it alone and tried to think of a reason to bring up the advertisement in her reticule.

  “This may sound like an odd question to put to you, Miss, but can I trust you.”

  “Trust me?” She parroted. “I believe so, sir, unless you plan to commit a crime and then I believe I am required to report you to the law here in town.”

  The corner of his mouth tugged up as he moved closer, the paper extended out to her. “It’s just that I am attempting to build my printing business as well as my newspaper here in Bower but looking at print for hours on end gives me a headache. Would you read through the text for me?”

  She took the paper from his hand.

  “I read through the words on the chase several times over, but as it’s been printing, I’ve had a nagging suspicion that I’ve made an error somewhere.”

  She nodded, but her eyes were already moving over the paper.

  “I have to finish this print order by tomorrow and I don’t have much in the way of excess paper if I made a mis-”

  “I found it.”

  “You found it?”

  He walked around behind her and looked over her shoulder. “Would you mind showing me where?”

  Imogene took a moment to gather her thoughts. It was one thing to have him in the vicinity, talking, walking, whatever have you, but standing so close behind her that he cast a heavy shadow over her shoulder… well, goodness.

  She traced her finger over the seventh line, quietly reading the words as her finger traced under the line and stopped a third from the end.

  “Hm,” he huffed, “that is certainly unfortunate.”

  “And now you can fix it.” She tried to remind him of the positive aspect of the situation.

  “Quite right.”

  “And the rest?” She lightly touched her fingertips to the paper. “Would you like me to read the rest?”

  He opened his mouth to refuse and then seemed to change his mind. “Please.”

  Imogene felt a little thrill run through her from her heart to her fingertips. How exciting!

  Struggling to calm her nerves, she started at the same point she stopped and continued on, speaking as she read. “This is quite a fascinating business you have, Mr. Hix. I wonder if you might be willing to take on some help of a more permanent nature? An employee, if you will.”

  She heard the pause in his movements and continued her proofreading, pleased when she reached the end that the rest of the document had been free of any errors.

  “I did put out an advertisement for an assistant. I received telegraphs from one interested person. We exchanged a few telegraphs back and forth, but since then I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Him?” She feigned confusion. “What if it were a woman?”

  “A woman?”

  She was happy to hear that there wasn’t a bite in his tone, more of a hesitation. “Women are excellent employees.”

  She saw his eyes widen and he shook himself a little. “Of course, Miss, it’s just that I’m a… a bachelor and I work alone. If I were to… if I were to hire a woman…”

  She heard the pause in his voice and took pity on him. “It would be difficult for you, I’m sure.” While she tried to keep a lightness in her tone, she felt her stomach sink like a stone in her middle.

  His words were true. His worry plain and justified.

  All she could hope for was much of the same as she had at home, stopping in from time to time, helping out when times allowed. Turning back to look at the paper, her enthusiasm had dimmed but she had her pride.

  She looked over the same line a second time, focusing her mind on the words. It was difficult to hear that her plans had just dissolved like sugar in the rain.

  What was she going to do?

  Chapter 3

  Leaving the Print Shop was one of the hardest things that Imogene had ever had to do. Letting the door click closed behind her sounded much too final for her own liking.

  And yet there was only so long that she could stay in the print shop without things seeming… untoward.

  As much as she hated to admit it. Mr. Hix was correct. A bachelor business owner could not hire a woman to work for him without drawing undue attention. It could be dangerous for more than just her own reputation, it would be disastrous for his.

  Distracted as she was, crossing the road was likely a silly thing to do, but her feet were driven by an anxious heart and a frustrated mind.

  At home she would often walk through the halls or around the yard. The physical exertion was sometimes enough to clear her mind.

  It reached her mind too late that she was no longer ‘home’ and that ended with her coming up short as she nearly stumbled into someone else’s path. “Oh dear,” she took a hop back and nearly toppled herself in the other direction if it hadn’t been for a hand on her arm.

  It seemed as if she was making a habit of being off balance in Bower.

  “My apologies,” she offered.

  “No need to apologize.” The voice she heard was clipped and didn’t seem to breathe life into the words, but still she was glad of the excuse he gave her.

  “I wasn’t paying attention,” she sighed, “and it’s not who I am.”

  “Well, they say first impressions are important,” his tone was still a bit flat for her liking but the look in his eyes was more curious than condemning so she chose to hope for the best, “but I am willing to make an exception for a newcomer.”

  She stepped back and then lifted her hand so that the arm he held was suddenly free. She touched her fingers to her cheek and realized, yet again, that she’d done something unusual.

  She’d quite forgotten to pull her gloves on when she’d left the print shop.

  Reaching into her coat pocket she withdrew one and set about pulling it onto her hand. It gave her the opportunity to look at the man.

  Finely dressed and well groomed, he looked a fine gentleman. His skin was pale like Mr. Hix but perhaps even more so.

  “I must have that printed across my forehead,” she wondered aloud. “I admit that I tried to wash it off when I arrived, but it seems as though everyone can see it written on me.”

  He cleared his throat… or maybe he laughed, she wasn’t quite sure. “The community here in Bower is small enough that when someone new arrives, it’s rarely an hour or two before everyone hears about it.” He titled his head in one direction and then the other as if adjusting his collar without the aid of his hands. “Even less if the new arrival is a pretty woman.”

  Imogene felt a little unease at his words, or maybe it was the look in his eyes.

  They seemed to assess her value in a way that she felt might be better used at the store to weigh grain or even sweets.

  She didn’t understand exactly why, but she got the need to set a boundary between them. “I thank you for your kind words, but I doubt that the label fits me and-”

  “Imogene!”

  She turned toward the happy sound and enjoyed the ease of the smile that curved her lips. “Mrs. Quinn.” The woman that moved toward her might have had a little more lightness to her step if she hadn’t a rounded belly beneath her coat. Still, the joy on her face was unmistakable.

  “I hope that you’ll call me Brigid soon, like all the rest of my friends.”

  Imogene sensed the man beside her tense, ever so slightly, but she didn’t pay much attention to him.

  “I am sorry to interrupt,” Brigid continued to move forward, “but Mrs. Clement and I were considering a little tea before my husband finishes his visit and decided it’s time for us to head home. I hope you’ll join us.”

  Imogene looked down at the extended hand and barely resisted the urge to grasp it and walk away.

  She might be uneasy, but she was not rude.

  Looking up at the man she saw that his face was still pale for the most part, but now his cheeks, and even his forehead was florid with color. “Perhaps later,” he cleared his throat and she watched his Adam’s Apple bobbled a bit in his throat, “
I might call upon you and hope for an introduction.”

  Startled by his words, she felt her lips part as she struggled to have her mind form the right words. “I… I-”

  “Mr. Winslet,” Imogene smiled at the woman that Brigid had called Mrs. Clement. Her voice was a gentle one and full of warmth. “It might be best if you made your inquiries at the Hampton house. We should have Mrs. Quinn seated soon.”

  Imogene saw the tight pull of the man’s mouth as it thinned into a pale line across his face.

  “Yes, well,” he seemed flustered and Imogene felt a moment of sympathy for him, “I agree it would be best for… it would be best.” He was obviously uncomfortable with the reference to Brigid Quinn’s condition. Most men would be, she realized.

  Stepping back and away from the three women as if they were all one possibly worrisome entity, he lowered his chin toward his chest in a perfunctory nod.

  “Please excuse me.”

  A moment later he was gone.

  Imogene felt a hand on her forearm and turned to see Brigid smiling at her. “I hope you didn’t mind my interruption.”

  It was hard to do anything but smile at the tall woman. She seemed to exude joy from every inch of her statuesque form.

  “I was just… taken unawares.”

  Brigid’s eyes were fixed on her face. “That sounds like there’s a story.” She turned to the woman beside her. “What do you think, Gwen?”

  “It is time for tea.” The petite woman beside her had a soft and gentle smile gracing her face. “And tea and stories make perfect companions.”

  Leaning into her friend, Brigid drew Imogene closer, almost making the three huddle together. “We’re planning on having some tea together, Imogene. And I think you and Gwen might be wonderful friends if given a few minutes and some sweets. What do you think?”

  “Think?” Imogene couldn’t help the rumble that echoed from her middle. “Sweets and friends sound delightful.”

  “Lovely.” Brigid turned ever so slightly and hooked one arm through Imogene’s and the other through her friend’s. “Then let’s go and visit Zhi.”

  Imogene’s mind and ears struggled to wrap around the name. “Zhi?”

  Brigid leaned closer. “You have a good ear, my dear. I think you’ll fit in just right here in Bower.”

  Imogene wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting. She didn’t have any idea how far they were going or even where, but she followed willingly along.

  Across the road.

  When they paused outside the seemingly unoccupied building, Imogene turned a curious glance to her new friend.

  It was Gwen, Brigid’s friend that leaned closer to smile at her. “It doesn’t look like much now,” she whispered, “but just you wait a few months when we can get the men to lend a little assistance.”

  Imogene nodded in answer to her words. What else could she do?

  A soft knock on the plain wooden door brought a burst of noise from the other side, and Imogene could only watch with curious and wide eyes as the door was pulled open into the building.

  The petite woman on the other side of the door took in the sight before her and smiled.

  “Welcome!” Her voice was soft but filled with excitement. “Come in. Come in.” Her free hand gestured to the women and she stepped back to clear the doorway.

  Brigid nudged Imogene through the doorway first and when she stepped inside the first thing she noticed was the lack of sunlight in the room.

  Blinking her eyes to adjust to the interior of the building, Imogene heard the soft laughter and chatter of friends. When she managed to see into the dark interior, she saw the three talking in animated gestures.

  “Zhi,” Brigid gestured at Imogene, “this is Imogene. She’s our new friend.”

  The flush of happiness warmed Imogene’s cheeks. “Hello.”

  The young woman who was returning her smile was likely Chinese and her curious name suddenly made more sense.

  “Tea?” Zhi’s question was followed by a delicate bow.

  “Please.” Imogene’s answer was accompanied by an answering bow of her own. And once she stood back up, she felt a strange embarrassment flood through her heart. “I,” she stammered her words, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if I should… or if I shouldn’t…”

  And then she knew.

  Zhi moved across the space between them and took Imogene’s hands in her own. “Bow,” Zhi’s voice was filled with warmth, “is show of respect.”

  Imogene nodded. “Thank you. I just didn’t want you to think…” she looked at the other women, “for anyone to think that I was making a joke or trying to hurt your feelings.”

  Zhi shook her head and Imogene saw the way the available light played off of the raven-dark hair and the tight bun it was wound into at the nape of Zhi’s neck.

  “A heart makes all the difference,” she said. “Your eyes tell me that you meant no disrespect and I can see the heart in your words and hear it in your voice.” Zhi gestured at the other two standing beside a table just a few feet away. “We all come from different places,” Brigid and Gwen nodded, “but we are all friends here. Come, sit, have some tea.”

  Her eyes adjusted to the somewhat dark interior, Imogene easily made her way to the table and took a seat between the two ladies as Zhi disappeared behind a curtain that was strung across one area of the large building.

  Imogene turned one way and then another to look at the room. When her gaze caught and held Brigid’s her cheeks colored again. “I’ve always been a bit curious.”

  Gwen nodded. “So were we the first time we came to share tea with Zhi.”

  Brigid winked at Imogene. “I should explain,” she began. “Gwen here is Mrs. Clement, the wife of our pastor.”

  Imogene’s eyes widened. “Pleased to meet you.” She reached out her hand and shook the other woman’s hands as they laughed gently at their belated introduction.

  Brigid continued on. “Zhi is planning on making this into a restaurant.” She gestured at the space with a grand sweep of her hand. “Imagine what this room could become!”

  Imogene squinted at the room and struggled to see what Brigid could.

  “Well first,” Gwen added, “there will need to be windows for light. I can’t imagine a room without windows as a restaurant, unless Zhi and her father intend to spend most of their profits on lamp oil.”

  Imogene nodded. “It’s quite an immense space.”

  Gwen leaned closer and Imogene could see some silver in the woman’s hair at her temples. “They’ll need tables and chairs.”

  “And lanterns.” Brigid’s voice was whispered with a rush of excitement. “I’ve seen some of the lanterns that Zhi and her father have in a box. Painted silk on the sides. I can only dream of what it will look like when lit from within.”

  Imogene nodded, her eyes still seeking inspiration in the dark interior.

  People sitting at tables, waiting to be served. People waiting to order…

  “Menus.”

  Imogene startled herself with the sudden outburst.

  “They’ll need menus for the customers to order from.”

  Brigid grinned at her. “That’s the spirit.” An odd look crossed her features before her hand settled on her belly. “The baby seems to agree.”

  Baby.

  Imogene darted a quick glance and saw the way Brigid smoothed her hand over her rounded belly.

  “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

  Brigid laughed and shook her head. “It’s surprising from time to time. Happens when I least expect it, and Livingston seems more concerned than amazed by it.”

  Imogene pulled her gaze from Brigid’s soothing hand as Zhi returned to the table with a lacquered tray.

  As they watched, the slight woman poured three cups of tea into earthenware cups that had no handle visible on the side.

  When she was done, she gestured to the cups with a graceful dip of her hand. “Please, drink.”

  Imogene watched as Brigi
d picked up the cup, taking hold of the small cup with her thumb and forefinger and setting it into the cupped palm of her opposite hand. Making quick work of copying her friend, Imogene blew a breath across the top of the cup and watched the steam curl up into the air.

  “Is Livingston still worried about the baby?” Gwen’s voice was filled with worry of her own.

  Brigid took a hesitant sip of her tea and sighed. “He’s worried about everything. If I would have allowed it,” she gave Gwen a smile, “he would have carried me to town from the homestead.” She took another sip and sighed. “Heavenly.”

  Imogene watched Brigid’s expression as she took her own sip of the tea.

  The brew was worlds different from the teas that Imogene remembered from home, but that, she supposed, was the point.

  Unbidden, she heard Madam’s voice in her ear. “We are all meant to grow and discover, Imogene. If we stay in one place and do the same things over and over, we become like a pool of water with no current to stir it up. We become stagnant.”

  Brigid’s voice drew Imogene from her memories.

  “The only reason he left me with Gwen today was that he makes Doctor Kittredge nervous.”

  “Doctor Kittredge?” Imogene took another sip.

  Gwen answered. “Doctor Kittredge has his office on First Street, around the corner from Mr. Winslet’s office. He’s been Bower’s doctor since our last doctor retired and moved back to Boston.”

  Brigid looked up as Zhi returned to the table, this time carrying a tray of little dishes. Each one had a different item on each, three of each.

  Giving a bow to the table, she smiled and disappeared behind the curtain again.

  Brigid nudged a plate toward Imogene. “Try an almond cookie.”

  “They’re quite delicious,” Gwen encouraged Imogene before turning to their friend. “I’m surprised that you called her attention to the cookies. I half expected you to tuck them away for later.”

  Brigid looked affronted at the suggestion until a bright smile curved her lips. “I would, but Zhi promised that she would put a few in a package for me to take home.”

  Imogene almost spilled her tea when she laughed. She hoped beyond hope that no one had noticed, but when she lifted her gaze, she saw Brigid’s bright eyes focused on her.

 

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