Meagan had been trying to help, taking in mending for neighbors and sewing for them. But she didn’t charge much because she felt they were doing her a favor by hiring her. She could make more money for the family, but she would have to go into business to do so. Their future hinged on tomorrow’s meeting.
two
Nate wouldn’t have gone to Abigail’s that evening except that she made it so very hard for him to say no. She was his late wife’s sister and the aunt of his six-year-old daughter. They were family, and she never failed to remind him of it. Not to mention that she was the daughter of the owner of the bank Nate managed. Mr. Connors had made no secret that his daughter knew many rich people who were always in need of a banker. To Jacob Connors’s way of thinking, Nate needed to mingle and make friends of them all.
Abigail always wanted Nate there for a number of reasons. For one thing, she needed his support at these social functions, and his presence was a way to help the bank’s business, too. After all, she invited people who were Nate’s clients—or certainly should be. Of course, she was a banker’s daughter and thought along the same lines as her father—or so she said.
Nate sighed as he raised the knocker on her front door. Abigail had moved into her own home several years before when she’d inherited it from her grandmother. It wasn’t a large home, but it was very nice and in one of the well-to-do neighborhoods in Eureka Springs.
Normally, she hired a butler for her parties, but tonight she opened the door herself and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, as she always did. It never failed to make him uncomfortable. He had a feeling that she would like him to make it a real kiss, but she was Rose’s sister and he just couldn’t do that. He had no doubts that if he asked Rose to marry him, she’d have them walking down the aisle in a matter of weeks. He wasn’t ready for that step.
“I’m so glad you came, Nate. Thank you for arriving early.”
“You say that every time, Abigail.”
“I mean it every time.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him as she took hold of his arm and led him into her large parlor. “How is my Natalie tonight?”
“She wanted to come, too. I told her it was one of your stuffy adult parties and she wouldn’t enjoy herself.”
“Nate!”
“Well, she wouldn’t. And she agreed. I promised her I wouldn’t be late.”
“You always manage to leave early, Nate.”
“I have a daughter to take care of, Abigail.”
“I know that. You could have brought her over and put her to bed here.”
“We’ve been over that before, Abigail.” Occasionally, he had let Natalie stay overnight with her aunt Abigail, but that was only when he felt Abigail could give her the attention she needed.
“I know. I’ll have just the two of you over for dinner later in the week.”
“I’ll tell her.”
Nate was relieved when a knock at the door announced her other guests were beginning to arrive. He became weary of one-on-one conversation with Abigail after a few minutes. He greeted the others and mingled as much as he could before they were called to dinner. Two of her best friends, Jillian Burton and Rebecca Dobson, had come with their current suitors. Nate knew them through banking, too. Jillian’s beau was Reginald Fitzgerald, who ran his family’s jewelry store. Rebecca’s current beau was Edward Mitchell, who’d just opened a new furniture store in town.
Several other couples whom he’d only met a time or two showed up, but he was certain that if they were anyone he needed to know better, Abigail would see that he did. For now, he just wanted to eat and get home to his daughter. Abigail employed a housekeeper and hired an extra cook for her parties. When the housekeeper let Abigail know that dinner was ready to be served, Nate was glad. He would get home that much sooner.
The help served several courses that included roast duck and creamed potatoes with tiny English peas and crusty rolls. The food was wonderful, and Nate was able to enjoy it as he only needed to give half an ear to Abigail and her friends discussing the upcoming spring social season in Eureka Springs. The ladies’ talk about ball gowns and dressmakers, however, caught his attention and held it.
“I don’t know what we are going to do with Miss Elliot marrying and moving away at the end of the year,” Jillian said.
“We must get orders in quickly if we are to have the newest styles for this season,” Rebecca added.
“This town could use several more dressmakers. I don’t want to have to start going away to get my frocks,” Abigail said, “but I don’t know that we’ll have much choice if we keep losing seamstresses.”
Nate didn’t say anything, but if Miss Meagan Snow was as good a dressmaker as her mother claimed, setting them up in business might prove to be a good risk—a very good one, indeed.
Meagan woke on Tuesday, feeling both excited and apprehensive. She and her mother had worked into the night, too wound up to sleep, but they had only a few frocks to press. They felt confident that Mr. Brooks would appreciate their efforts.
As she pulled on a wrapper and hurried downstairs to finish the pressing before getting dressed, Meagan took a deep breath and tried to appear calm. She didn’t want her mother or the girls to see how nervous she was. That would only make them apprehensive. Besides, she’d prayed and put it all in the Lord’s hands, and He would take care of it. They’d cleaned the house until it sparkled, and she was making certain that she would be showing Mr. Brooks her best work. There wasn’t anything else she could do except wait on his decision.
“Good morning, dear. Mrs. Morrison brought over the morning dress and the dinner dress you made her. She made sure they were clean and pressed. She said if we need her to come meet Mr. Brooks to let her know. She’ll be glad to.”
“That’s very nice of her.” Meagan looked over the two dresses: the dinner dress, a crimson- and cream-striped sateen; and the morning dress, a blue- and green-checked gingham. “She has taken very good care of them. They look like they did the day I finished them.”
She carefully laid them in her room until time to bring them out to show Mr. Brooks. While her mother made breakfast for the younger girls, she finished the pressing. Then her mother went to work, the girls went to school, and Meagan spent the rest of the morning laying out everything she planned to show Mr. Brooks. She loved the last housedress she’d made for Becca. It was of patterned blue and white batiste with three rows of pleated ruffles at the hem, the neckline, and wrists, and a skirt that draped gracefully in the back. Meagan was happy with the way her mother’s new brown brocade visiting dress had turned out, too, with its side drape, trimmed in gold. She looked lovely in it.
After making sure everything looked as good as it could, Meagan put on her favorite afternoon dress. It was brown, cream, and blue plaid gingham, with a front drape. She went down to the kitchen to heat up her curling irons and put her hair up, curling a few tendrils around her face. Finally, there was nothing more to do but wait until Mr. Brooks arrived … except to pray that he would decide to approve their loan.
Mr. Brooks arrived promptly at three o’clock. When Meagan opened the door to him, she found him looking around the partial wraparound porch. She wasn’t worried. The cottage was in good shape, and the neighborhood always well kept. He’d find nothing to be critical about there.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Brooks.” She hoped she didn’t sound too nervous.
He turned back to the front door with a smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Snow. How are you this beautiful spring day?”
Meagan had barely noticed how sunny and warm the day had become. She’d been too busy getting ready for his visit. But she didn’t want to appear too apprehensive. “I’m quite well, thank you. Please, come in.”
“Welcome to our home, Mr. Brooks,” her mother said from behind her. “Meagan has much to show you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Snow. I’m anxious to see Miss Snow’s work.” He handed his calling card to her and then turned to Meagan. “Did you, perhaps,
fashion the frock you are wearing?”
“Yes, I did.” Meagan turned slowly, her arms outstretched so that he could see how the skirt was draped.
He nodded. “It’s a lovely dress.”
“We’re both wearing afternoon dresses that she designed herself,” Elsie said, turning gracefully so that Mr. Brooks could see how the skirt of her dress draped across the front and tied on the left side.
“These are both quite nice. What else can you show me?”
Meagan led him into the parlor where they’d laid out the rest of her work. She motioned for him to move around the room. “I’ve made more, but they were for other people and I didn’t have time to ask if we could borrow them.”
“No need. I wasn’t expecting to see this much.” He walked over to the frocks she’d made for Becca. “You make children’s clothing, too?”
“Of course,” Meagan said.
“I have a six-year-old, and she’s been growing quite fast. I’m going to have to replenish her wardrobe soon. These look every bit as nice as anything we’ve had made for her. Since my wife passed away, her family has been helping me choose her clothing.”
Meagan wasn’t sure what to say—or even how she felt about the fact that he wasn’t married. While she felt badly for him and his child, she couldn’t deny that knowing he was a widower made it easier to accept the fact that she found him quite attractive.
He smiled. “My Natalie is very vocal about what she likes to wear. I’m sure that together, she and I could manage her wardrobe.”
“I’m sure you could, too.”
Mr. Brooks looked everything over carefully and listened as Meagan pointed out a certain style or a special drape or ruffle on each outfit she showed him, from school dresses to walking dresses, to Sunday dresses she’d made for her sisters.
“While Meagan is showing you around, I’m going to put on a pot of water to heat. I hope you’ll join us for afternoon tea after you are through here, Mr. Brooks.”
“I’d love to, Mrs. Snow.” He smiled at her mother and then turned to Meagan. “Let’s see the rest.”
It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but that he could tell the quality of the fabrics and trim she’d used and commented on the quality of her work gave her hope.
Meagan had just finished showing Mr. Brooks the rest of her work when the front door flew open and Becca and Sarah burst in from school. They stopped short when they saw the banker in the parlor.
“Oh!” Becca said.
“It is all right, Becca. Girls, this is Mr. Brooks. He’s the banker who came to see my work.”
“Mr. Brooks, these are my sisters. Sarah is the older one, and Becca the younger.”
Both sisters gave a quick curtsy, making Meagan smile with pride at their good manners. “How do you do, Mr. Brooks?” Sarah said.
He smiled and bowed from the waist. “Sarah and Becca, is it?”
Becca giggled and bobbed her head.
“It is nice to meet you both. Your sister is a very talented dressmaker and she’s made you some lovely things.”
“Oh, we know,” Sarah said. “She’s a wonderful seamstress.”
Sarah could be quite outspoken at times, and Meagan was afraid she’d ask outright if he was going to loan them money. “Mama is in the kitchen, making tea for us. Would you girls go let her know that we are ready?”
They hesitated only a moment, just long enough for Meagan to incline her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Please?”
It was obvious that Sarah wanted to stay, but she sighed and nodded her head, pulling Becca, who was no more anxious to leave the room than she was, with her.
“I’m sorry. They are—”
“They want to know my decision almost as much as you and your mother, I’m sure. That is quite natural. They live here, too, and all of this affects them as well. Why don’t we go have that tea and talk about it?”
“Yes, of course,” Meagan said. “Please follow me.”
“Do you have any sketches of your designs that I could look at?”
“I do. I meant to give my sketch pad to you. I’ll get it while Mama pours your tea.”
She led him down the hall to the back parlor. It was cozy and bright, and her mother was sitting in her chair, the tea tray in front of her.
“Mr. Brooks, I’m so glad you could join us; please take a seat anywhere you’d like,” Mama said. She poured him a cup of tea. “Would you like cream and sugar?”
He sat down in the chair on the other side of her. “Yes, please.” He took the proffered cup and took a sip.
“Mama, I forgot my drawings; I’ll be right back,” Meagan said. By the time she returned, Mr. Brooks seemed right at home. Becca was serving him a tea cake, and he was smiling.
Meagan took the cup of tea her mother had prepared for her and handed the banker her designs.
“Thank you, Miss Snow.” He plopped the rest of the tea cake in his mouth and opened her sketchbook. He turned the pages slowly and looked over each design carefully. “This is the frock you have on, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” He had a good eye for fashion, but he still hadn’t given any indication as to what he was going to do.
He closed the sketch pad, handed it to Meagan, and smiled. “Relax, ladies. I’m very impressed with Miss Snow’s designs and the quality of her work. Your front parlor is amply big enough to turn into a shop. I’m going to give you the loan.”
For the first time that day, Meagan felt her smile was genuine. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Brooks. You won’t be sorry!”
Her mother was up out of her chair, pumping the banker’s hand up and down. “Thank you, thank you. Have no worries. We will pay back every penny.”
Sarah was barely able to contain her excitement, and Becca was clapping and jumping up and down with excitement.
Mr. Brooks chuckled. “I am not worried. With the support system you have here, I have no doubt that you will make your business a success.”
Meagan looked at her mother and sisters. She had a feeling they all helped him make his decision. She nodded. “I’m blessed, that’s for certain.”
“Come into the bank tomorrow morning, and we’ll get your signature.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Meagan. “This is a list of building contractors I think you can trust to do the work you need. I’ll need to approve the plans you come up with, of course, but you can rest easy tonight. You have the loan.”
Meagan took the paper from him, and as her fingers brushed his, she was taken aback by the electrical jolt that shot up her arm. Her gaze met his and she wondered if he’d felt the same thing.
three
The next day, the receptionist jumped to her feet as soon as Meagan and her mother approached her desk. “Mrs. Snow, Miss Snow, Mr. Brooks has been expecting you. Please, come right this way.” The woman smiled and led them to his office.
He seated them once again and put Meagan and her mother both at ease with his smile. Meagan didn’t like the way her heartbeat sped up at that smile, though. He was such a nice man and—
“It’s not often I feel as good about a loaning money out as I do today,” Nate Brooks said as he took his seat behind his desk. He handed Meagan a card. “Be sure to have some business cards made up and leave them wherever you go. This company is known to do beautiful cards at a reasonable price.”
“Thank you,” Meagan said, taking the small card from him. “I’ll go see them this week.”
“Well, ladies, let’s get started. The sooner we get this paperwork done, the sooner you’ll be able to start your business.”
For the next half hour, papers passed back and forth as signatures were put to them. Meagan had a moment’s misgiving when her mother handed over the deed to their home. If only they’d been able to secure a loan without putting up their home as collateral. It was all very sobering. Her family’s future was at stake. If she failed in this endeavor, they could lose their home.
Mr. Brooks seemed to sense her mood.
“I believe you are going to build a thriving business, Miss Snow. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be lending you the money. I don’t do business like that. Try to think of it as placing your deed in my hands for safekeeping.”
“I’ll try,” Meagan said. She wanted to believe him, but she sent up a silent prayer to the One who knew for sure what kind of man Mr. Brooks was. Lord, please let him be telling the truth … that he believes in us and that our deed is in a safe place. I pray that I can make this business successful so that my family won’t have to worry about the future, so that Mama can quit working at the Crescent very soon, and so that we can pay back this debt and get our deed back. Please help me, Father.
A Love For Keeps (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 2
