by E. E. Burke
The questions Victoria had didn’t concern Fannie’s lessons. Maggie knew David better than anyone. She might have insight into why he’d changed suddenly.
Victoria motioned for Maggie to follow to end of the counter near the back door where they were less likely to be overheard. “Can you tell me what’s wrong with David?”
Maggie appeared perplexed. “Wrong with him? What do you mean?”
“Ever since I arrived, it seems as if he’s…well, hiding. He hasn’t been forthcoming, even though I can tell something about this marriage, or me, is bothering him.” Victoria didn’t go into the details of the disastrous kiss. His doubts had started before that.
The ache in her heart was so great she could hardly bear it. Possibly, she expected too much, and yet the things he’d written had spurred those expectations. She couldn’t accept something else…someone else.
She held out her hands, pleading for an answer. “I came out here because I fell in love with the man who wrote those letters. What happened? Why did he change?”
* * *
David entered the store through the back. Victoria and Maggie stood with their backs to him near the end of the counter. Victoria hadn’t spoken very loud, but what he’d heard made his heart stumble. He stepped heavily on his damaged leg and the thick-soled shoe connected with a thud on the plank floor.
At the noise, the two women spun around.
“Oh! David, we didn’t hear you.” Maggie fiddled with the watch on her bodice, and her voice jumped several octaves. “Why did you come in through the back?”
“I stopped off at the flouring mill. Still have to unload.” He motioned with his thumb over his shoulder, as if they couldn’t figure out the wagon was in the ally.
Victoria’s eyes remained wide, and her expression hopeful, as if she expected him to say something to reassure her. He couldn’t. She was in love with a fraud.
His insides worked themselves into a knot. He’d been wrong to allow her to believe, even for a day, that he was the one who’d written those letters. That’s why she was so unhappy now, and it explained why she’d thrown herself at him. As Mr. O’Connor had suggested, he ought to admit the truth and beg her forgiveness.
Fannie saved him from confession when she jumped up and ran over, lugging that damn doll. If Victoria decided not to marry him, the doll would be a painful reminder.
He took out a handkerchief, bent down and wiped his daughter’s face. “You have crumbs around your mouth. Been eating pastries again, eh?”
Fannie’s lips curved up, and she made a gesture in front of her with her hand.
“Two smiles in less than two days? What have I done to deserve that?”
His sweet daughter trusted him. He couldn’t fail her a second time and marry a woman who might walk out of her life. Perhaps it was for the best Victoria left. The man she had come to find wasn’t him.
Fannie made that odd gesture a second time, which seemed deliberate and something she wanted him to notice.
“What’s that you’re doing?”
Victoria ventured closer. She seemed a little skittish, and he felt bad that he’d caused her to doubt herself. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t love her. “Fannie is telling you she’s hungry.”
He straightened, not understanding. “She didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, she did, in sign language. I taught her how to say, I’m hungry.”
She’d stunned him, again.
“Victoria knows sign language,” his sister explained. “That’s what the deaf use to communicate.”
Maggie smiled. And Fannie. And Victoria.
David frowned. They couldn’t be happy about this. His daughter had to talk again, not wave her arms around in some useless gestures that nobody understood. She would be looked down on, shunned. “Why would you teach her a language she doesn’t need?” he demanded of Victoria. “Getting her to talk, that’s what you ought to be doing.”
Maggie gasped. “David! She’s just trying to help. The deaf communicate through—”
“My daughter isn’t deaf.”
Hurt flashed through Victoria’s eyes a second before she narrowed them. “Sign language is used by people who are mute for whatever the reason, which is why she needs it.”
“Fannie isn’t mute.”
Victoria’s chin went up. Her sweetness hid a streak of stubborn. “She is mute, and as long as she remains that way, if she’s willing to learn how to communicate through signing, we will better understand her needs.”
Put that way, it sounded reasonable.
Wild emotions ricocheted against the walls of David’s chest. He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders, unwilling to accept Victoria’s judgment about Fannie’s condition. That meant the end of hope for any kind of normalcy in his daughter’s life. “You aren’t mute, are you Fannie? Tell Miss Lowell.”
The joy in Fannie’s face fell away, replaced by the same hopeless grief he’d seen in her eyes for the past two years. His child suffered, while he insisted on behaving worse than the backside of a mule. For all he knew, Fannie had some terrible malady that prevented speech. Even if she was perfectly healthy, she still wasn’t communicating. Victoria had seen an opportunity to unlock the cage that kept his daughter a prisoner, and he insisted on locking it again.
He knelt in front of her. He’d held his sweet babe in the hours after she was born, completely enraptured. He loved her so much he would do anything to restore her, pay any price to bring her happiness.
He cupped her shoulder with one hand, and with the other touched her cheek. “A stór…” His voice grew rough with emotion. “My treasure. I’m proud of you for learning those signs.”
He hugged Fannie, and ended up giving the doll a hug, too.
Afterwards, he glanced up at Victoria, rueful. He’d treated her poorly. No, worse than that. She had done nothing wrong. In fact, she’d done everything she could to help.
Slowly, he got to his feet. “I owe you an apology. For being a horse’s a—” He couldn’t say that in front of Fannie and the ladies, not even if the term fit. “For being difficult. If you’d like, you can keep track. Charge me a nickel every time I say something stupid.”
“That might not be enough.” The slight curl of her lip could mean she was joking.
He straightened his shoulders, and drawing Fannie against his side, prepared to right the wrong. “You’re right. She does need to learn to communicate. Just took me by surprise, is all. You’ll teach us more of those sign words, won’t you? I’d like to learn, too.”
She dipped her chin. “I would be glad to.”
David exhaled with relief. She’d agreed, and without being demeaning. Nor had she made demands of him, except when it came to Fannie. Amazing, how she’d stood up for a child that wasn’t even hers, and forced him to acknowledge what was in his daughter’s best interests. She was the kind of mother Fannie needed. With her help, maybe one day his daughter would speak again. That is, unless he told Victoria the truth.
He didn’t need the sight to know what would happen. After how he’d treated her, if he told her that he hadn’t written those letters, she would pack up and leave. Even kind-hearted women had their limits. Already, she’d expressed disappointment, albeit mistakenly thinking she was the problem, which was laughable. She couldn’t be more perfect.
“Is there a sign for…for thank you?” He’d almost said love. The biggest lie of all. Never again would he give a woman that kind of power over him. He didn’t have to love her to convince her to marry him. All he had to do was to become the kind of man she thought he was, the one she’d found in those letters.
Victoria put her fingers to her mouth and made a gesture that almost looked like she was blowing him a kiss. “That’s how you say, Thank you.”
He mimicked the gesture, remembering how soft her lips felt and how sweet she tasted. She might even let him kiss her again, if he managed to pull this off.
Fannie’s delighted smile cinched it.
>
He had to get his hands on those letters, and swear his sister to silence. Victoria could never find out. He could live with the lie. This wasn’t a mistake. Protecting her from the truth was the only way he could be sure she wouldn’t leave.
Chapter 7
One week later
“David’s returned with the trees!” Maggie’s shout echoed up the stairs, audible all the way to the kitchen where Victoria sat, helping Fannie with her lessons.
Fannie looked up from the primer and her eyes glowed. She used her fingers to spell.
Tree.
The little imp had picked up the sign language alphabet in a surprisingly short time, and could spell their names and simple words. Which just proved what Victoria suspected all along—Fannie was a very bright child.
Victoria closed the book and set it aside. Her charge was too excited to focus on studies this afternoon. “Enough reading. Let’s go find our Christmas tree, shall we?”
Fannie didn’t need to be told twice. She leapt up and raced out the door, pigtails flying, leaving Victoria to follow in her wake. The storeroom wasn’t as frigid as usual. Maggie must’ve added extra wood to the stove while David was away.
Outside, the temperatures had dropped, and overnight, several inches of snow had fallen. After sweeping and shoveling parts of the walk not covered by the porch roof, David had left to collect a shipment of Christmas trees. He’d encouraged Fannie to stay with Victoria and work on her lessons. That suited Victoria just fine. She needed time to strengthen the fragile bond forming with her soon-to-be stepdaughter.
Her doubts about David had all but vanished over the past week. After their confrontation, he’d undergone a transformation. Instead of avoiding her, he sought her out at every opportunity. During the day, he would happen to brush up against her, or touch her arm or fingers as he passed by. Each night he spent time sitting with her on the sofa, sharing his dreams and talking about their future. Once, he’d cornered her when no one was around and had stolen a kiss.
She had written to her friend Roberta and told her all about David, and how she could hardly wait until Christmas Eve. It wouldn’t be long now, and marrying him would be the best present she could receive.
As she entered the store, she smelled a sweet aroma. “Umm. Fresh baked pies?”
“Mrs. Murphy’s pecan pies, to be exact. You just missed her.” From behind the counter, Maggie gestured outside to where a stout woman bundled in a cape and bonnet was being assisted into a buggy.
Her burly companion turned to help David unload evergreens stacked in the back of the wagon. They lined up the lashed trees along the side of the building.
“This is the first year David has sold Christmas trees,” Maggie said. “I hope they do well.”
“I’m sure they will. They’re very popular in Boston.” A thrill of anticipation shot through Victoria. She caught up with Fannie near the front of the store. “We should go select our tree before the best ones are taken.”
“David will want the best ones left for the customers.” Maggie lifted a pie out of a box on the counter and bent down to set it inside the glassed display case. “Doesn’t matter anyway, he won’t allow a tree upstairs. It could possibly catch fire.”
Anything could possibly catch fire.
“If one isn’t careful, yes, the tree could catch fire, but…” Victoria’s retort died on her lips. She would soon be David’s wife, and shouldn’t naysay his rules in front of his daughter. Later, she could speak to him about changing his mind. He’d shown he was willing to consider her opinions, and had even taken her advice a time or two. “Well, I suppose there isn’t much space upstairs.”
Fannie’s shoulders slumped. She brought her hands to her face and drew them downward.
Sad.
Victoria nodded. “I know, I’m disappointed, too.”
She’d promised Fannie they could decorate a tree. It would be great fun and good way to bring them together. Thus far, there were few opportunities for family time because David worked all day in the store, and in the evenings took inventory and did bookkeeping. He explained he didn’t want to spend the extra money to hire help. She wondered if he didn’t have the extra money because the store across the street had cut into his business. If there was a way she could help, she would. But she knew next to nothing about running a mercantile. She was an expert, however, on little girls and Christmas trees.
“Maybe, if we move a few things, we could put a tree in the store,” she suggested.
“Move things?” Maggie’s muffled laugh came from behind the display. “To where?”
Good question. Victoria propped her hands on her hips and considered the possibilities. Only a narrow path remained between the counters, cases and tables, not to mention the stove and those large barrels. In front of the window, snow shovels were displayed.
Who wanted to look at shovels?
“There,” Victoria said, pointing to the dangling shovels. “We can set it up in front of the window.”
“What are you putting in front the window?” David asked as he entered the store. Off came the cap. He removed his gloves and ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it.
Her heart tripped, as she recalled plunging her fingers through his dark hair. She’d ask him not to cut it before the wedding. “We want to put up a Christmas tree in front of the window.”
“A tree, in here?” He made it sound as if the idea had never occurred to him. “There’s no room for it.”
He didn’t allow a Christmas tree upstairs or have space for one in the store. The term Scrooge came to mind.
Instead of arguing—which only made him dig in his heels—she propped up her elbow in her hand and placed her forefinger on her lip to appear thoughtful. He responded well to reason. “If you don’t put up a tree, how do you celebrate?”
“Celebrate?”
“You do celebrate Christmas.”
“Of course we do. We have a big dinner.”
“But what about decorations? It doesn’t feel like Christmas without decorations.”
He gestured to the door. “We could put up a wreath with the extra boughs.”
For a man who could pen pure poetry, he wasn’t displaying much creativity.
“David, we could do more than just a wreath.” Thankfully, Maggie had switched sides.
Victoria took in Fannie’s woebegone face and knew she couldn’t let the child down. “You could make room for a small tree in front of the window.”
“A Christmas tree is frivolous.” He might as well have said, Bah, humbug. “Besides, we have snow shovels on display. Shovels are more practical.”
Victoria released a frustrated huff. “Ebenezer, this isn’t the time of year for practicality. People want to be frivolous and extravagant.”
“And you know this because you’ve been running a mercantile…for how long?” He challenged her with an arch of his left eyebrow.
Her father had perfected the arrogant eyebrow, so she wasn’t the least bit cowed. In fact, it made her twice as determined. She would appeal to David’s business sensibilities, the surest path to his heart.
“I’m not saying I’m an expert, but what about Mr. Macy? He certainly knows something about running a store. Every year when my father took us to New York, we’d rush over to see what Macy’s had in their window display. Talk about extravagant. People flocked to his store to buy Christmas gifts and decorations. You can’t say the owner of the most successful store in the country doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
David hung his cap on the hat tree by the door. She might’ve suspected he was ignoring her, except he wore a thoughtful expression, which meant he was considering her suggestion, or thinking of how he would refute it. His tendency to reflect seemed strangely at odds with his spontaneous decision to wed her after exchanging only three letters.
Speaking of, she had misplaced those letters. Or… Her gaze slid to David’s daughter. She’d caught the little girl digging through her clothes earl
ier in the week. “Fannie, have you seen a packet of letters?”
“Why did you go to New York every year?” David asked.
Victoria returned her attention to their discussion, which at the moment was more important than locating her letters. “We did our Christmas shopping in New York.”
“But you lived in Boston. Aren’t there shops there?”
“Plenty of shops, but…” She propped her hands on her hips as she deduced his strategy. Oh no, he wouldn’t. “You’re changing the subject.”
He shrugged off his overcoat. “I’m just curious about your travel. Did you stay in a hotel?”
“No, we had a—” She stopped before she stumbled into admitting they had a house in New York. There was no need to talk about how many houses her father owned, or ships, for that matter. David had already taken issue with her wealthy background. “That has no bearing on the point I’m trying to make.”
The way he looked at her, almost accusingly, triggered a flood of guilt. She hadn’t lied about her family’s wealth, just hadn’t dwelled on it. Doing that would only emphasize her and David’s vast differences in upbringing, rather than draw them closer.
“My point is, Mr. Macy puts out decorations so people will see them and want to come inside and shop.”
David’s dark, intense gaze held hers until she shivered. His lips tightened in a slight smile as if he knew very well his effect on her. That wasn’t fighting fair.
He wandered over to a table where a variety of knickknacks and ornaments were piled in boxes. More were in crates on the floor. “These trinkets are out where people can see them.”
“But they can’t see them from outside.” She crossed to the large window in the front and gestured at his competitor’s store. That would get his attention. “Mr. Sumner has a Christmas display.”
“That doesn’t mean he knows any more than I do about selling trinkets.”
“I didn’t say he does. I’m suggesting that if you decorate a tree with those ornaments, then people will see we have better trinkets than that fellow across the street.”
