Suitor by Design

by Christine Johnson

  “I guess it’s easier to see in electric lighting.” He pointed to the top two marks. “Don’t go any higher than this, or I won’t be able to get the seat to settle right.”

  “What about this side?” She pointed to the bottom, where he hadn’t marked anything.

  “Bring the fabric around the bottom and attach it on the back.” He lifted the board on its side. “See how I shaved off a little so you could tack the fabric to the wood here? Be sure to use flat-headed tacks. Nothing with any depth.”

  “All right.” Minnie didn’t want to admit she didn’t have any tacks, least of all flat-headed ones. The mercantile should have them. They had a lot of hardware supplies. If they didn’t, the feed store might, assuming farmers had need of flat-headed tacks. At least she now knew how to attach the stuff. She smiled with relief. “Thank you for showing me.”

  Peter smiled back at her. “You’re welcome.”

  Minnie sucked in her breath. Up close, the flecks of green and gold in his eyes shimmered like gems. It must be getting dark, because his pupils grew larger and larger, and in the center was her reflection. She ought to look away but couldn’t seem to do so. The floor tilted, and she had to grip the table to keep her balance.

  Breathe. Just breathe. It’s only Peter.

  He broke eye contact first. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of tacks—flat-headed tacks. “Thought you might need these.”

  She tried to thank him, honest she did, but nothing came out until after he left. Then the only thing she could manage was “Where do I get a hammer?”

  * * *

  Minnie did good work. Real good. Every day Peter brought a new board and carried the completed one back to the garage. She reveled in his praise, which made him hum and whistle the rest of the day. Each time she talked more. Today, she’d chattered on and on about how to pound in the tacks. He didn’t care what she said. Every word and every movement was beautiful.

  Mr. Evans pulled up to the fueling pump, and Peter strode out to fill his automobile. March had dawned cold and windy, but he barely noticed. Why should he when later that day he’d see Minnie?

  Those long eyelashes of hers made her the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Add in the big blue eyes and tender smile, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Sleep and concentration vanished, but he didn’t care. Minnie was warming up to him. She’d even talked to him after the church service on Sunday.

  Tonight the varnish on the last board would be dry. He would take it to her as soon as he closed the garage. Then what? He’d pick it up tomorrow or the next day, but after that he wouldn’t have any reason to stop by the dress shop.

  “You planning to pump the fuel anytime soon?” Mr. Evans chirped from the driver’s seat.

  Peter jerked to attention. “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Evans chuckled. “Looks like you’re falling for a girl.”

  Peter fought embarrassment as he pumped gasoline into the pump’s glass cylinder. Then he began to release the fuel into the Model T’s tank. Mr. Evans attended the same church. He’d probably seen Minnie talking to him last Sunday.

  “It’s a fine time of life.” Mr. Evans then launched into the story of courting Mrs. Evans in a horse and buggy.

  Peter’s thoughts drifted back to Minnie. If he owned an automobile and got her father’s permission to court her, he’d take her on a Sunday drive to this pretty spot downriver where the water flowed deep and clear and the willows drooped so low their leaves dipped into the river.

  “That’s enough, Peter! I only wanted two gallons.”

  Peter stopped the flow of fuel and checked the glass cylinder atop the pump. He’d put in two and a half gallons. “Sorry, sir. I’ll only charge you for the two gallons.”

  “Nonsense. I can spare the extra.” Mr. Evans held out a dollar bill. “Happens to all of us, son. I hope she likes you, too.”

  Peter felt the heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll be back with your change.”

  “Keep it. Buy your gal something nice.”

  Peter fingered the dollar bill as Mr. Evans drove away. That was the difference between Pearlman and the big city. Vince had a money clip full of hundred-dollar bills. Peter had an extra fifty cents.

  * * *

  After padding the last board, Minnie wasn’t ready for the project to end. She smoothed her hands over the thick felt instead of pushing the board toward Peter. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need me to do? I can help you put the compartment together.”

  He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets. “Not necessary.” He glanced around the empty shop. “But I could use your help if...well, your sister...”

  Minnie gritted her teeth. She was sick of being treated like a baby. “I’m nineteen years old now. An adult. I ought to be able to do as I please.”

  He flinched. “Your birthday! I should have remembered. Buy you a soda?”

  Why did he always manage to turn everything into a reason to ask her out? “No, thank you. I can’t.” He looked so downcast that she added, “Maybe after we finish. Is Mr. Galbini still coming to pick up the automobile on Saturday? There’s a lot to get done between now and then. I can help. Maybe hold the boards in place while you nail them together.”

  He gave her a strange look, as if she’d made the dumbest suggestion ever.

  “What?” she challenged. “You don’t need anyone to hold them? Or are you still worried about a chaperone?”

  “I’m using screws, not nails.”

  “Oh.” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “But I could use your help, if...”

  Minnie groaned. “You still insist on having Jen watch us?”

  The red started to seep up his neck. “Don’t your parents want that?”

  “You’re as much of a stick in the mud as Beattie. All right. I’ll get Jen to come with me.” Somehow. Her sister was busy at the airfield again, with the flight school gearing up for another season.

  He shot her a shy smile that almost made up for the inconvenience. “You need to bring a strong needle and heavy thread.”

  Now he’d lost her. “To assemble a wooden box?”

  He shrugged. “Actually, most of the compartment is already together. I just need to add the last board, but I accidentally ripped open a seam in the seat back.”

  “Is it just the seam?” Her pulse beat a little faster. This would put her sewing skills to the test.

  “I think so.”

  “I hope we don’t need more leather. We don’t have anything like that here. Since the carriage factory closed and Mr. Jones retired, no one carries leather. I’d have to order some. It could take days to get here. Then I’d have to stitch a whole new seat cover. That would take forever. I’d never get it done by Saturday.”

  Every thought made her more and more frantic. Worse, Peter stood there grinning, as if her panic was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Stop laughing,” she demanded.

  “Now calm down. Don’t you think you should see it before you go making another cover?”

  “This is a Pierce-Arrow. A fancy new automobile. Do you really think the owner wants a patched-up backseat?” She threw her hands into the air. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking you can do it.”

  The way he stood there brimming with confidence gave her pause. He thought she could work miracles. Her. Minnie Fox. Apprentice dressmaker. Sewer of hems and straight seams.

  “I can’t.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try,” he urged.

  “Except I need to order the leather today, if I’m going to get it before the end of the week.”

  Still, he grinned at her. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s past closing time.”

 
Minnie blew out her pent-up frustration as Jen burst through the door.

  “Let’s close this place and go home,” her sister said.

  Minnie looked at Peter, who nodded encouragingly. Somehow, his calm confidence bolstered her own. Maybe she could do it. And he was right. She couldn’t order material at this late hour.

  She turned to Jen. “After we close, we need to go to the garage. Where does Ruthie keep her heaviest thread and sturdiest needles?”

  Chapter Ten

  When Minnie saw the gash in the leather, she gasped. “I can’t fix that. It’s not just the seam. Some of the leather ripped, too.”

  “Are you sure you can’t do something?” Peter looked stricken. “The torn part is real low. The seat cushion will hide it.” He scrubbed a hand through his shock of hair. “New leather will cost a lot. It’d take most of our profits. And we’d never get the job done on time.”

  Put that way, Minnie had to give it a try. “But I can’t promise anything.”

  “You can do it.” Peter gave her a winsome smile that sent her stomach fluttering.

  She tamped down the unwelcome feeling with a stern warning. “I’ll have to take the seat back apart in order to work on the material. It’ll be tough to get it repaired and back together by Saturday. Will Mr. Galbini wait if it takes longer?”

  Peter shook his head. “I don’t know how to contact him by telephone. A letter won’t get there in time.”

  Minnie nibbled on her fingernail. “I suppose we don’t have any choice. We’d better get the seat back apart tonight.”

  They set to work. Jen even pitched in. Within twenty minutes, Minnie held the folded leather seat covering in her arms. Unlike the envelope, she couldn’t possibly lose this between the garage and home. Once there, she’d enlist her parents’ advice. One of them must know how to repair leather.

  It took every spare minute the rest of the week to fix the tear. When neither parent could advise her, Minnie visited old Mrs. Baumgartner. The retired upholsterer showed her how to painstakingly repair the tear. The stitching fell to Minnie. Lacking a machine capable of handling leather, she had to sew by hand. Each stitch took both strength and patience. Her fingers ached. Her hands cramped. Her eyes burned.

  “What a foolish idea,” she muttered Thursday night after toiling on the project for hours. “He’d better appreciate this.”

  “Who, dear?” Mother looked up from her embroidery. “Your father always appreciates your work.”

  “I know he does.” Minnie bit her lip, sorry she had ever complained. Daddy had taken a turn for the worse today and hadn’t come downstairs. “How is he?”

  “Sleeping peacefully.” Mother slipped the needle effortlessly through the cotton fabric. “He just caught a cold. Nothing a little rest won’t cure.”

  Minnie returned to the dreadful leather. “This is the last time I tackle upholstery. No wonder Mrs. Baumgartner retired.”

  Mother’s lips curved ever so slightly. “I’m sure her seventy-year-old hands were tiring from the work.”

  Minnie refrained from expressing her frustration with the material in front of her mother, but she couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when she finished early Friday morning. Peter would be pleased. Hopefully, Mr. Galbini wouldn’t notice that the material had been repaired. His boss, either. All they had to do was put it together that night, in time for Mr. Galbini’s arrival tomorrow.

  “I can’t go to the garage,” Jen stated as they closed the dress shop for the day. “The Hunters are hosting a welcome supper for the new students, and I’m helping out.”

  “You? You can’t cook.”

  “I can carry plates and fill water glasses and teacups.”

  “Why did you agree to do this? You knew all week that I’d need you tonight. What am I supposed to do? The car has to be ready before morning. Mr. Galbini is due on the early train.”

  Jen shrugged as she locked the back door to the shop. “Do what you have to. I won’t tell Mother and Daddy if you don’t.” After pocketing the key, Jen took off toward the Hunters’ house at her usual rapid pace.

  Minnie looked first toward home and then down the alley where it ended near Simmons Motor Garage. What choice did she have? The work must be done, and her parents’ silly restrictions made no sense now that she was nineteen. Besides, who would know? Jen had promised not to say a word. She walked straight to the garage.

  Peter balked at first. “Where’s your sister?”

  “Busy.” Minnie laid the leather seat covering on the workbench.

  “But she has to be here. Someone has to be here.”

  Minnie put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes in her best impression of Kate Vanderloo. “Peter Simmons, we have work to do—unless you plan on re-covering the seat back all by yourself.”

  Peter looked first at the folded leather and then at the frame of the seat back. “Maybe Hendrick would help.” His shoulders drooped. “No, he can’t.”

  “He and Mariah are at the Hunters’ supper, aren’t they?” Minnie asked.

  Peter nodded glumly.

  Minnie squared her shoulders. “Well, then, by my calculation, we only have a couple hours to get this together. I suggest we stop talking and start working.”

  Though Peter hesitated a moment longer, at last he capitulated. Good thing, because stretching the leather proved torturous. Oh, the first side slipped on with no problem, and the second wasn’t bad, but then the struggle began.

  Minnie panted as she strained to pull the material over the frame. “It’s as if it shrank. How is that possible? It never got wet.”

  “I don’t think leather is like wool. Why don’t you hold on to this end and let me pull that one in place?”

  “Then what? Are you going to attach it?”

  “Let’s get it over the frame first and figure out the rest later.”

  Minnie did as Peter suggested, but again the material slipped from her fingers. “It’s hopeless. Maybe I somehow made the cover smaller when I repaired it. But how? I was so careful.”

  “I can tell you were.” The softness of his comment calmed her growing frustration. He ran an appreciative hand over the repair. “I’ve never seen such beautiful work.”

  “You can’t mean that.” She felt suddenly self-conscious.

  “Yes, I do.” He looked at her then, his hazel eyes soft.

  Her stomach tumbled again, this time in a pleasurable way. She took a shaky breath. Really she ought to say something, anything, to break this crazy connection before it went too far. “I’m only an apprentice.”

  “You’re much more than that, Minnie. Can’t you see? You’re talented.”

  No one had ever said that to her before. Ruthie was the talented one. Compared to her, she was a bumbling beginner. “No, I’m not.”

  Peter lifted her chin. “Believe in yourself.”

  His touch sent electricity shooting through her to the tips of her fingers. His gaze drew her like iron to a magnet. No! This could not happen. This was the very reason why Mother and Daddy insisted on a chaperone. If she succumbed, she’d betray their trust.

  She drew back and stared at the unyielding material. “It won’t much matter how good the repair is if we can’t get the cover on the frame.”

  That effectively ruined the moment. Peter cast his gaze down and stared at the material. He took off his cap and pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s too cold. Maybe if we warmed up the leather, it would stretch better.”

  “Let’s try it.”

  Together, they moved the frame in front of the potbellied stove and then held the leather near the radiant heat. Then they attempted to stretch it again. Minnie struggled to hold the material at one end while Peter tugged it over the frame at the other. It still took effort, but it worked.

 
An hour later, they finished the seat back. After Peter installed it in the automobile, they lifted the seat cushion into place atop the new luggage compartment.

  Minnie drew in her breath. “It’s beautiful.”

  “And your repair doesn’t show at all.” Peter pointed to the spot.

  Minnie circled the auto to check. “You’re right.” After all the struggle and worry of the week, this was such a relief that her spirits soared. She impulsively threw her arms around Peter. “We did it!”

  He hugged her back, and they spun around like kids. Laughter bubbled up, and soon they were both giggling. It felt good. Too good.

  Minnie stepped away and wiped her eyes. “Silly, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not. You do beautiful work.”

  She caught her breath. “You, too. Maybe it’s only the start. With work like this, we might get more work. We could make a success of this.” Maybe she had put too much emphasis on glamour in the past, but tonight she wasn’t thinking about fancy clothes and jewelry. “Maybe I can make enough so Daddy can go back to Battle Creek for treatment.”

  * * *

  Until Minnie said she wanted to earn enough to help her sick pa, Peter was going to tell Vince that this was the last job he’d do for Mr. Capone. Now he couldn’t. His only hope was that Vince would get mad over the repaired seat back and refuse to give Peter future work.

  The rumor he’d overheard still had him on edge. What if Blake Kensington wasn’t talking about legitimate business? Even if he wasn’t, nothing connected the conversation to Vince except the odd timing. Why did Vince seek him out now? More than four years had passed.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Maybe he was making a fuss out of nothing. Maybe Vince’s boss did get his money from furniture and antiques. Maybe this job was a onetime project that would put a little extra cash in the Fox family’s coffers.

  By the time Peter arrived at the garage the next morning, the only thing he knew for sure was that he had to protect Minnie at all costs. She was an innocent. He couldn’t risk bringing her anywhere close to the seedy underworld he’d witnessed in New York.