Silver Belles and Stetsons

by Caroline Clemmons

  Her father beamed at her. “You had a brilliant idea, Celia. More Christmas spirit will bring in extra business.”

  “Dad? I hoped it would bring cheer back to the town. I also hoped being involved would get Mother out of her doldrums.”

  He appeared contrite. “Sorry, but I’ve been worried I’d be left with all the gift items I’d ordered still on the shelves. A store like this one can’t afford to have so much tied up in inventory.”

  “I had no idea you were anxious about business. Your mercantile appears successful to me. You have a wide selection.”

  Her father scrubbed a hand across his face. “That’s how I want it to appear—and stay. I don’t mean we’re in danger of bankruptcy, but your mother is used to a certain standard of living and I’d hate to curtail her spending. Still, if this Christmas cheer program does nothing but bring a spring back to her steps, then I’ll consider your project a success.”

  “Thank you.” She hugged him.

  The chatter of customers entering prevented further discussion.

  Later that morning, Eduardo arrived and handed her father a list. “Good morning, Señor Sturdivant. Today, I need many supplies. My wagon is at the side.”

  Without a word, her father took the list and started gathering items.

  A respite between customers allowed Celia to talk to Eduardo. “You’re here early after our late night.”

  “We rise early, my father and I.” He looked around. “Your father was not here last Christmas, so perhaps he does not know. Each year, my cousin and I and now the Stones provide gifts for each child. The teacher will provide a list of sizes and special needs. Then I will fill what I can here in your store. Some things, Joel and James—you remember he is the pastor—and I build using wood supplied by Mark at the lumber yard and mill or scrap materials from other projects.”

  She clasped her hands in pleasure. “How wonderful. I hope you’ll let me help you choose the gifts from here. Christmas is my favorite time of year. You show the true spirit, Eduardo.”

  He rewarded her with one of his handsome smiles. “I look forward to your assistance, Celia. My cousin Hope suffers from morning bouts of queasiness. I think she will not be available to help much this year.”

  “She’s so lovely, but I noticed she ate little last night and seemed to a have a chill.”

  “Although her good humor increases as the day progresses, I was surprised she insisted on attending. She wanted to meet you and welcome you to our town.” He looked at the store’s back room which led to the stock area and also the side door. “And now I fear your father is ready for me to move my wagon so others can load supplies.” He bowed slightly and strode through the stockroom to the side door.

  Outside, George Sturdivant waited by the wagon. The gangly teen who helped out, Vergie Hawkins, went back to the stockroom.

  “Thank you.” Eduardo started to climb onto the wagon, but George motioned him to wait.

  “I notice you’ve shown an interest in my daughter, Montoya.”

  “I cannot deny this. She is a lovely woman.” He braced himself for the storm he saw swirling toward him.

  George folded his arms across his chest. “I appreciate your family’s business but I have to speak up and protect my daughter. Her mother and I hope she will form an attachment to a man of European heritage.”

  Although Eduardo schooled his features and tempered his voice, anger boiled within him. “Is Spain no longer in Europe? My great-grandfather was Don Cesare de la Montoya from near Barcelona.” He tilted his head. “True, he was married to Aiyana, daughter of a Comanche chief. But my grandmother came from Valencia to marry my grandfather. My mother was the daughter of a family of Spanish nobility from Madrid who settled in Mexico City.”

  “You know very well what I mean. Your kind burned the church.”

  “My kind? No, they were not the kind of anyone in this town.” He slashed a hand to emphasize his words. “If the gang who attacked had blond hair and blue eyes, would you have been against Alice Stone and our new teacher? I think not.”

  “You’re twisting my words and…and making them sound unreasonable.”

  Shaking his head, he met the store owner’s gaze. “I do not make them anything. Your opinion is unreasonable. Perhaps I should leave and let you get back to your store.” He vaulted onto the seat, snapped the reins, and drove away.

  Within a block, he slowed the wagon. No point punishing the horses for his anger or that man’s stupidity. A serious difficulty faced him.

  No matter what, he would not be warned away from Celia by anyone but her. Yet how could he hope to wed her without her parents’ approval? He shrugged, confident a way would open to him.

  Celia watched her father stomp back into the store and stop to record the Montoya’s purchases.

  She went to his side, looking on the family’s account. “Is something wrong?”

  He snapped, “Nothing, just didn’t want to forget to write this down.”

  “My, Eduardo and his family certainly spend a lot of money with you. And I see they pay monthly instead of once or twice a year like most ranchers and farmers.”

  Her father stood motionless.

  “Are you all right? You’re not ill, are you?”

  When he spoke, his voice was still gruff, “I’m fine.”

  “While I’m thinking of it, you can rest easy about being left with too much inventory.” She told him about the gifts for all the children.

  Her father’s exhale whistled through his teeth. “Miss Jones said she has nineteen students. That’s a lot of extra sales right there, plus those children too young for school.”

  “Oh, but I had the impression that each child gets more than one gift, but that may only be those whose parents can’t afford to furnish anything. Aren’t Eduardo and his family kind? Now aren’t you sorry you misjudged him so harshly?”

  Her father wiped a hand across his flushed face. “I…um…I need to work in the stockroom a few minutes. Call me if you need help.” Almost at a run, her father disappeared into the back.

  She wondered what that was about, but didn’t have time to ponder. A steady flow of customers kept her—and soon her father—busy until closing.

  Sunday morning, Celia pulled her jacket close against the chill. Except for the brilliant sunshine in a cloudless sky, she would have needed warmer clothing. Leaves rustled and swirled in an autumn rainbow of golds, browns, oranges, and greens to further brighten the day.

  Walking ahead of her, Celia’s mother looked over her shoulder. “I’m so pleased at your reception Friday night, but you’ll meet many more people this morning. Most people in town attend services. Those close enough to drive in do also.”

  “Watch where you’re walking, Harriett. I don’t want you to have a spill.”

  “So this is the only church?” Celia asked.

  Her father said, “There’s a Catholic chapel on the grounds of Micah Stone’s ranch, but I’ve heard the priest is only there once a month.”

  She wondered if Eduardo’s family came to Radford Crossing for church or only attended the chapel services. As they neared the newly-built church, she spotted charred remains pushed to the back of the grounds. The new cedar shingles shone on the church’s white painted walls. The steeple bell peeled as they approached.

  As she entered the sanctuary with her parents, she saw Eduardo seated beside Hope and Micah. She smiled at him, noting his parents were absent.

  After two hymns, James took the lectern to speak. Celia found his message uplifting and at the same time comforting to her recovering heartache.

  “In conclusion, let me speak about a wonderful idea one of our new residents has put forth.” He gestured toward her. “Mrs. Dubois has initiated a program to reclaim the spirit of Christmas in our community. In the fire which destroyed the church, it appears many of us lost our faith in mankind and in ourselves. To allow this to continue would be letting the bandits defeat us. As we approach this holy season, I hope you w
ill all join in with Mrs. Dubois to restore our community’s spirit and joy.”

  After the service, many people approached Celia and offered welcome and encouragement.

  Off to the side, she heard two women talking about her. She couldn’t hear everything, but “upstart”, “butting in where she’s not wanted”, and “she has her nerve” reached her ears. She recognized the two gossips from their visits to the mercantile. Mrs. Cox and Mrs. Martin apparently took delight in criticizing others. Along with Mrs. Welborn at the boarding house, they were the most mean-spirited women she’d met here.

  She refused to allow naysayers like them to destroy her enthusiasm. Instead, she’d continue with her plans. Finally, she was able to excuse herself.

  Eduardo had waited until she was free. Hat in one hand, he stepped near. “May I escort you home?”

  Without asking her parents, she slipped her hand on his arm. ”That would be very nice of you.”

  He clapped his hat on his head. “My buggy is right over here. Mr. and Mrs. Sturdivant, would you care to ride?”

  Her mother looked as if she’d bitten onto a lemon. “No, thank you. The short walk will be beneficial after sitting.”

  Celia pretended not to see her father’s disapproving frown.

  Eduardo helped Celia into the buggy and climbed in beside her, “What have you planned for your free afternoon?”

  “To coerce my father into helping me gather cedar boughs for wreaths?”

  He snapped the ribbons. “Plural? How many do you plan to make?”

  “One for my parents’ front door, one for the store, and maybe a few to sell. Mama has a talent for creating arrangements. I hoped to involve her.”

  He flashed a bone-melting smile her way. “Perhaps instead of your father you will coerce me and I’ll take you to gather these cedar boughs.”

  She laughed. “Since you’ve volunteered, I won’t have to convince you. I thank you, and I’m sure my father thanks you as well.”

  A strange, somber look appeared on his face. “Perhaps. Or he might prefer going with you. Perhaps your mother would, too.”

  “I guarantee my mother hates anything more outdoorsy than the three block walk to church or shopping. And Dad prefers to spend Sunday afternoon napping in his easy chair.”

  His smile returned. “Then I am indeed fortunate, for I can think of nothing better than spending the afternoon with you.”

  He stopped the buggy in front of her parents’ two-story home. “I believe your father’s predecessor lived over the mercantile.”

  “Yes, but he was single, so Dad rents those rooms to Vergie Hawkins and his mother. My parents prefer this house. It’s smaller than the home they had when I was growing up in New Orleans, but they believed there would be only the two of them.”

  “I thought they moved here from the south coast.”

  “Yes, from Galveston where Mama’s brother had convinced Dad to enter into partnership. Working with my uncle drove Dad crazy, and vise versa. Since then, my uncle bought out Dad’s share.”

  “I am astonished but grateful they didn’t go back to New Orleans since you were there.”

  “I’ll admit I was surprised, but Dad thought there was more opportunity for them here. He likes Radford Crossing very much. Mama just wants a pleasant home and time for shopping and socializing.”

  “Ah, and here are your parents approaching.” He climbed down and came around to help her alight. He stood very close with his hands at her waist.

  Before she considered her parents’ possible reaction, she blurted, “Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us?”

  “A very tempting offer, but I have an errand. I will return at two and take you to the cedar brakes. We will find as much cedar as you wish.” He hopped back into the buggy and drove away.

  Celia smiled to herself as she watched him depart.

  Her mother sniffed. “May I remind you that you’re still in mourning? Being seen cavorting with that man is in poor taste.”

  “Mama, riding home from church is hardly cavorting. And Jean-Claud died thirteen months ago, so I’m no longer in mourning. The Dubois family wouldn’t let me leave until the year and a day was up.”

  Her father’s head snapped up. “What do you mean, they wouldn’t let you?”

  “I hadn’t meant you to know, but I was practically a prisoner in their home. They were so overly-concerned with appearances and said I couldn’t leave for a year to show my devotion to their son.”

  Mama’s face bore signs of shock and confusion. “But…but I can’t imagine why they’d act like that. They’re supposed to be the cream of society. You’re our daughter.”

  Her father’s faced reddened. “They had no right to keep you there. I’ve half a mind to pen a strongly worded letter to old Pierre Dubois.”

  She linked arms with her father and mother. “Please don’t bother, Dad. Nothing anyone else says or does will ever convince them they’re wrong. Let’s hurry in and eat. Eduardo’s calling for me at two.” On the way into the house, she shared her plans.

  Chapter Four

  Eduardo pulled to the carriage house of Joel and Rosalyn and hopped to the ground.

  Luther stepped out of his and Birdie’s living quarters. “You want me to unhitch the horse and rub him down good?”

  “Thanks, Luther, but I won’t be long.”

  “Then I’ll give him some oats and maybe a drink.”

  Joel came out of the house followed by Lucy and her dog, Willis. “Nice to see you. What’s going on?”

  “I came to borrow some tools. Celia Dubois wants to gather cedar for wreaths this afternoon. Afraid I’m caught unprepared.”

  “I’m betting you haven’t had lunch. Come on in or Rosalyn will skin me alive.”

  As they ate, Rosalyn said, “I’m glad you’re here, Eduardo, but I’m surprised Celia didn’t invite you to share their dinner.”

  He speared a piece of pork chop with determination. “She did, but I declined. Only yesterday, her father warned me to stay away from her. Said he and her mother wanted her to marry a man of European descent.”

  Joel harrumphed. “What a pompous blowhard.”

  Rosalyn laid aside her fork. “And rude. I’m not surprised, though. Her parents were almost as stiff-necked as mine, especially Harriett. Money and appearances meant everything.”

  Eduardo stared at her then shrugged. “I admit he angered me but now I cannot blame him. If she were my daughter, I would seek to protect her.”

  His hostess met his gaze. “I’m not saying George and Harriett are heartless, but you must understand that courting Celia will present problems. You do intend to woo her, am I correct?”

  He smiled. “You can count on that. I believe she is open to the idea. I must find a way to win over her parents.”

  Rosalyn patted his arm. “Just be yourself.”

  Joel laughed. “Now why’d you have to tell him that? I can see his head swelling while we eat. Time we’re finished, he won’t fit through the door.”

  Lucy stared at Eduardo. “Your head doesn’t look any different to me. I think Papa was only teasing you.”

  He leaned toward the little girl. “Thank you for explaining to me, Lucy. You are a good friend.”

  After they’d eaten, Joel and Luther rounded up all the tools he’d need for cutting cedar and stowed them in the buggy.

  “Thanks. I will return these tonight.”

  As he drove away, Joel called, “Good luck.”

  Eduardo pulled out his pocket watch when he was a block from the Sturdivant’s. Almost two. He smiled and clicked to the horse. He hoped that in a few minutes he would see Celia and spend time alone with her.

  As he stopped in front of her home, she ran down the steps. He breathed his relief. All the way here, he’d half expected her father to step out and send him on his way.

  Celia had changed from her to church clothes into a gray dress trimmed in black lace. What was probably one of her mourning dresses only set off her
red hair where tendrils showed beneath her gray bonnet. The love of his life carried a wrap over her arm.

  He came around the buggy to assist her. “Why don’t I help you with your coat? Driving in the open may chill you otherwise.”

  She slid her arms through the sleeves. “Thank you. Although this dress is wool, I’d hate to catch a cold.”

  He helped her into the buggy. “Do you have a spot picked out or shall I choose?”

  “I’ll have to rely on you. Other than the stagecoach ride, I haven’t seen anywhere but the town.”

  He set the horse moving at a brisk trot. “Joel said we can cut cedar from his land, which is closer than mine.”

  Her lovely forehead furrowed in what appeared to be a puzzled frown. “Isn’t he a lawyer?”

  “The best, but when he came to Radford County, he and his brothers bought ranches. Joel is more interested in living in town and was our sheriff for a while. Still, he’s held on to his ranch and has a foreman who manages the place for him.”

  She peered up at him. “I appreciate your willingness to help me like this.”

  Her smile and her beautiful tawny eyes set his heart pounding. “My pleasure. What did you use in Louisiana for wreaths?”

  “Usually magnolia sprays painted gold. Also wax myrtle branches.”

  “We have no magnolias. How will you decorate the cedar?”

  “With ribbon and lace. Maybe big red velvet bows if I can find the fabric or ribbon.”

  “You realize Rosalyn has many such things for her sewing business?”

  “Thank you for reminding me. I know Mama has odds and ends of trim plus what Dad has for sale in the store.”

  “I think you must save the store goods for the customers who will want to copy your idea. I’m sure there will be many who do.”

  “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I do hope people enter into the activities.”

  He guided the buggy off the road and up a rutted path. When he’d pulled on the reins to halt the horse, he turned to her. “Celia, you must be careful where you step. Wherever cedar grows, rattlesnakes live. Although the weather is cool, rattlesnakes can come out on sunny days like today.”