by Kari August
“Liiizette, I’d like to ask our models what they think of their outfits.”
“Excellent idea!”
Charlena raised her hand, indicating that she wanted to speak. Dickie smiled encouragingly. Charlena began shyly, “Uh . . . as a tall woman, I appreciate that the blouse is cut longer in back. I don’t have to worry whether it’s riding up.”
Lindsey chimed in: “Yes, three additional inches were added in a diagonal across the back for that very reason.”
“Such smart styling! Don’t you like that?” Liiizette turned to the audience for approval. They applauded.
Dickie wasn’t finished. “Connie, how about you?”
Connie gave a curt nod. “These pants are so incredibly stretchy and comfortable, I swear you could do the splits in them. I’m a former cheerleader; I should know.”
Dickie had no idea what a cheerleader or the splits were, but he said, “Care to demonstrate?”
The excitement in the audience soared. They clapped loudly.
Connie spread her hands outward. “Give me some room.” The other women took a step backward. Dickie’s mouth dropped open as Connie raised her arms in the air, sinking to the floor as her legs slid apart.
The audience cheered and hooted and the screen flashed, Sold Out. The network broke away for another promotion.
Lindsey watched as Charlena and Connie excitedly exited the stage, phones to their ears already. Dickie was talking intently to the woman producer, and Liiizette was being prepped for her next presentation.
This was one of the happiest moments in Lindsey’s life, and there was only one person in the world she wanted to share it with. She quickly walked offstage and looked around. But where was Ned?
Lindsey scanned the wings and backstage areas. No Ned. She walked back to the guest room, stood in the doorway, and listened briefly. Perhaps Charlena and Connie knew where he was. Lindsey heard them chattering away gleefully.
Charlena chuckled. “You’re so funny, Cody, but give the phone to Caroline. I want to talk to her next.”
Connie was grinning. “I wasn’t even sure if I could do one, Hoyt. I haven’t tried one in years.”
Both caught her standing there and waved elatedly toward her. She waved back, then went in search of Ned again.
She walked around the backstage area once more. No Ned. Why would he have just left? Didn’t he even want to congratulate her? She was profoundly disappointed that he was so insensitive, and if she was going to be honest with herself, she was deeply hurt. She sat down on a set of steps leading to an overhead balcony and placed her chin in her hands. Brilliant her. She really had thought they had developed something special.
Lindsey noticed a beam of light shining to her right. A door was opening, leading to the backstage area where she was sitting. Ned, panting as if he had been running, stood in the entryway. She stood up. He saw her. He held out a huge bouquet of pink roses and smiled a sweet but bashful smile. God, she loved him.
She ran toward him and grabbed him tightly around the neck. He hugged her back as best he could while holding the bouquet. “I ran to the florist shop across the street. This bunch is for you.”
She pulled out of his grasp and looked up at his face. He looked down at her softly. She placed her hands on the sides of his face and started plastering him with kisses. “God, I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”
He smiled tenderly. “Really, Linds? ’Cause I love you, too.” He dropped the bouquet on the floor, grabbed her around the waist, and swung her around.
She laughed. “Wait! Stop!” He released her and she crouched on the floor, gathering her scattered flowers. “My bouquet! My bouquet! I’ve never gotten flowers before from someone. These are precious to me.”
He knelt down and helped her collect the stems.
“Ow. A thorn just got me.” She sucked her thumb and watched as Ned finished gathering the remaining bunch.
He handed it to her and asked, “Did I miss anything toward the end of the show? I left as soon as Liiizette asked what was in your future line. That’s really encouraging, isn’t it?”
She grinned. “You missed Connie performing the splits.”
He chuckled. “What?!”
“Oh, and we sold out—even the pants-and-blouse set.”
He beamed. “That’s great!”
“Why are you two on the floor?” They looked up at Dickie, standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. They quickly got to their feet.
“Ned got me a bouquet!” she gushed. She couldn’t help herself. She was giddy with happiness.
Ned blushed. “I, uh . . . wanted to congratulate Linds.”
Dickie said mockingly, “What about me? Where’s my bouquet? I certainly deserve one after the news Snorkels just told me.”
Ned’s face grew serious. “What? Tell us.”
Dickie stood taller. “TBN is talking about negotiating a one-year contract, with presentations every three months.”
Lindsey jumped up and down on her toes. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! That’s such a great start to York Designs.”
Ned was in lawyer mode. “We’ll try for a three-year contract. But what about waiting for the clothing line’s ratings?”
Dickie smiled and shrugged. “Well, she did warn me about that, but I’m not worried, and I doubt the Doogemits are either. Oh, and Lindsey?”
She smiled. “Yeah?”
“I told Snorkels that I wanted you to be the primary presenter.”
Lindsey frowned. “Oh. What’d she say?”
“Not surprisingly, she didn’t argue that one.”
“Yippee!” Lindsey danced around in circles.
Dickie asked Ned, “Is that girl all right? The English are typically more reserved.”
Ned nodded. “Splen-did!”
The first week back proved incredibly hectic for everyone. Dickie and Cody baked while Aunt Elle supervised for a day, Ned and Caroline handled business issues, Lindsey designed, and Charlena visited the manufacturer and ran errands.
They were all busy, but content. Everyone but Squire Cody. Cody sighed and sulked, despite their success, and Dickie wanted to know why.
Cody wouldn’t tell him at first until Dickie pressed the issue. They were taking a break, eating a pizza for lunch in their commercial kitchen.
“Did you know my mom asked my cousin Aren to stay with me while she was modeling for TBN?”
Dickie shook his head and swallowed a bite. He loved pizzas heavy on the sauce. He couldn’t get enough of New World tomatoes.
“Can you believe it? She treats me like a baby!” Cody pointed to himself with his piece of pizza before gulping a bite. “I’m a grown man! I didn’t need a babysitter just because she was going away for a couple days!”
Dickie had to concede that Cody had a point. Dickie had been given his majority at Cody’s age. He had obtained land and titles, and with it more responsibility. Why, within a couple years he had already tested himself on the battlefield. After performing valiantly against Warwick’s troops, he had been given, despite his young age, command of the vanguard against Henry VI’s heir, defeating the weakling soundly for Eddie. And afterward, at the court of law? He had made life-and-death judgments against the traitorous Lancastrians. Of course, his most lauded accomplishment in warfare had come years later, when he had invaded Scotland and restored Berwick to English hands. He had been extolled for possessing incredible courage not only in England, but internationally.
But Cody wasn’t finished. Dickie had opened a floodgate. “Aren thinks he’s so great just because he graduated last year from the business school at the University of Colorado. He’s got this job in Denver. He should have just stayed there, but oh, no, Mom had to invite him to stay with me for a couple days.”
“He’s gone now, though, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Cody blew out a long breath. “He came along to watch Holidays in Augus
t with Caroline and me.”
Dickie could see now what was coming and he sympathized. He remembered the raw emotions he had had as a teenager—he had imagined himself madly in love with a tavern owner’s daughter for a while. Their affair had led to his illegitimate children, whom he didn’t regret having, but admitted were a lesson in overindulgence. Yet he had treated those children right. As soon as he had become king, he had made a brilliant match for Kate in marriage, and appointed his son John as captain of Calais, though he was only fifteen at the time. But Cody was scowling, so Dickie focused on the topic at hand. “The two of them hit it off, huh?”
Cody groaned. “Aren’s taking her to a concert in Denver this Saturday.”
Dickie wasn’t sure what to say. Caroline had been exceptionally cheerful the last week. He decided on the obvious: “You’ll meet somebody else. There’s a whole world of women out there.”
Cody straightened and threw the rest of his piece of pizza in the trash. He frowned determinedly. “You bet there is. I’m asking this new girl, who just moved to Estes Park, out to the movies. And Charlotta has hair just as blond and long as Caroline’s!”
Dickie smiled. “See, there you go. Caroline’s easily replaced.”
But Cody just sighed and said, “Yeah, I hope so. . . .”
By the time the second week rolled around, however, Cody wasn’t the only one upset.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The bad news started to trickle in slowly, but gained momentum every day. While the cookie ratings continued to soar high, the clothing line was suffering attacks. Simply put, the garments were coming apart on the customers. The special boar buttons were cracking after a few days, the toggle enclosures ripping too easily, and even some of the seams had been sewn too loosely. One woman had torn her pants down the middle while demonstrating Connie’s splits at a party. She was threatening legal action.
Lindsey was devastated. Richard was embarrassed. And Ned saw financial disaster ahead.
By the third week, Snorkels was calling. TBN was dropping any future involvement with York Designs. They would still continue the shortbread cookies.
Ned called an immediate meeting of the group. Cody and Caroline arrived first and took their seats quietly at the dining table.
A tearful Charlena entered next, exclaiming, “It’s all my fault, Neddie. I’m so sorry.”
Ned frowned. “Good God, Charlena. How can you possibly say that?”
“Because I concentrated on the wrong things when I visited the manufacturer. I looked for consistency of garment sizing and fabric color. I tested a few seams, but not many. I should have banged on the buttons with a hammer. I should have yanked at the toggles.”
Lindsey entered the cabin at this point. “No, I should have. I supposedly knew more about the clothing business than you. It looks like I don’t know jack shit.” Cody held back a snicker.
Dickie overheard the doom and gloom from the kitchen, where he was preparing a sandwich for himself. “Now, everybody. It was my idea for the buttons and toggles in the first place. But I’m sure this isn’t the end. We’ll work it out.”
Ned scratched his head and blew out a long breath. He knew this issue was going to be hard to overcome.
Dickie walked back over to the table and took a seat. Around a bite, he asked, “Why don’t we just manufacture some more clothing correctly and sell it somewhere else besides TBN?”
Ned answered, “The million-dollar question. Well, because the majority of the profits we have made have already been turned around to a good cause. I was going to surprise you, Dickie, but you know that issue about Richard III you wanted resolved? Well, the money was donated already to the new American branch of the Clear Richard III’s Name Society. The fund cannot be touched legally now unless it’s going directly to one of their projects.”
“Ned, I wish you had told me. First off, who’s in charge of the newly formed American branch?”
“Lindsey and I are.”
“Well, at least there’s that. But, Ned, I thought I told you that the issue was becoming less important to me now. Don’t you think that money should have been left in reserve?”
Ned shook his head. “No, I do not. None of us would even be here discussing this issue if it weren’t for you. That meant promoting what I thought you would support.”
“All right. Then we’ll take out a loan.”
“Easier said than done in this economy.”
Lindsey stood up. “Look, if anyone is going to take responsibility for a loan, it should be me. There’s no reason to potentially bring down a thriving cookie business because I don’t know squat about the design business.”
Dickie looked her levelly in the eye. “Then check out taking a loan for yourself. Build a company, Lindsey. You’re the one out of all of us who should be the owner of a dress design business.”
Lindsey blew out a deep breath. “Okay. If you will excuse me, I’ll check into that now.”
Ned didn’t believe for one minute that she was going to do that. There was something in her tone of voice that warned him. He finished up some more business concerning the cookies, then headed over to the RV.
He found Lindsey packing up her clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
He stepped farther into the RV. “Leaving for where?”
“I’m going back to England. There’s nothing more for me to do here.”
“Are you going there to look for a loan?”
“No, I’m quitting the design business, seeing if I can get my job back at the society.”
Ned felt a combination of anger and hurt. “You can’t do that. How can you just leave now?”
She stopped packing and looked over at Ned intently. “I refuse to bring this new company of yours down. I love you, Ned, but I don’t want you to fall in my failure, also.”
“That’s nonsense, Lindsey. Have the courage to start a company on your own. Or at least try!”
She pointed to herself. “Me have the courage? What about you?”
“What do you mean?” Ned was confused.
“You’re like a leaf floating down the stream, led by whichever way the current is pushing you harder. First, your parents and that grandmother of yours, with her stupid competition, practically dictated your career as a lawyer. You know you want to be a park ranger. Why don’t you have the courage to become one?”
Ned looked at the floor. “I told you, I’m not sure about that career choice.”
She raised her voice. “Are you not sure because you don’t have the courage to become one or because you don’t want to be one now?”
He looked up. “I haven’t had time to think about the issue for a while.” He added sarcastically, “I’ve been a little busy, as you can see.”
“That’s right. Because now you let yourself be swept away by cookie making and the dress design business. Was there ever a time in your life where you said to yourself that you actually wanted to do that? But look at you. Doing Dickie’s bidding. You’ve latched onto him like a lifeline so you don’t have to show the courage to do what you actually want to do. I hate to say it, but I think you invested so much money in a new branch of the society so you would have yet one more thing to keep you from facing your fears.”
Dickie now stood in the doorway to the RV and clapped. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Ned looked over. “No, Dickie. She’s wrong about the money to the society. I wanted to do it for you.”
Dickie countered. “But the rest of what she said is the truth. Think about it, Ned!”
Dickie turned to face Lindsey now. “I know it’s scary to think about forming your own design company, but you’re going to try. I’m not letting you drop your dream without even attempting to make a go of it. It’s unimaginable to me. I always pursued my hopes and ambitions. They didn’t always work out how I planned, but at least I had the satisfaction of knowing that I tried. Now, tomorrow you’re going to the bank and seeing if
you can get that loan.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Are you giving me a royal order because you know I don’t believe—”
“Yes, I am. But even if you won’t obey me, you will look for that loan, because you know otherwise you might regret not doing so for the rest of your life, and you’re too sensible a woman to let that happen.”
She looked over at Ned and asked quietly, “What do you really think?”
Ned paused a moment, then said, “I think you should try to get the loan and not screw up years of your life the way I apparently have. If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to think about.” He edged around Dickie and walked out of the RV.
Ned took off the next day in his car, vowing to Dickie and Lindsey, who stood in the driveway watching him leave, that he would return, but he didn’t specify when or give details about what he was doing. Neither pushed him for answers.
Lindsey began her search for a loan, but when there was nothing further for her to do but wait to find out whether her loan application was approved, she helped with the cookie business. There was a lot of toil to go around without Ned present.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Estes Park wasn’t the only place where people were diligently working away. Ned’s cousin Clarence was busy in Florida also. Clarence figured it was time to do something about Ned’s success with the King’s English cookies.
He swiveled in his chair and stared out his office window. Ned would understand, wouldn’t he? They were in a competition, after all. Best man wins.
Clarence grimaced. He wasn’t sure whether what he had planned would make him the “best man,” however. Well, at least York Designs had already crashed and burned, or so he had heard from Aunt Elle this morning. But should he still go through with his plans for the cookie business?
Clarence shook his head, disgusted with himself. He had to fight these stupid guilty feelings. So what that Ned and he had enjoyed a camping trip together? It meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, right?
A knock on his office door shook him from his thoughts. His burly manager poked his head in. “Visitors, boss.”
