Twice Promised (The Blue Willow Brides Book #2): A Novel

by Brendan, Maggie

With heavy steps, she went on past Jess. When he touched her on the sleeve, she didn’t stop, using the dog in her arms as her excuse. Her bright day had turned to gray, she thought as she settled Rascal in his crate, leaving the crate door open just a bit. “Now you be a good boy and mind your manners today,” she told him, wagging her finger at him. When his sad brown eyes blinked at her, she brushed away the tears in her own eyes and paused to give him a reassuring squeeze.

  She heard the bell over the door jangle, and from the chatter of voices, she knew that it was Agnes and Cole. Just what she needed to make her day even worse—a dress fitting with insufferable Agnes. She straightened, lifting her shoulders back, then plastered on a smile and hurried over to greet them. At least she found Cole to be much nicer than his sister.

  Agnes peeled off her gloves, and with a disapproving glance at Greta’s feet, she humphed. “I see your foot must be better.”

  “Yes, Agnes. A lot better,” Greta said.

  “Then I hope it didn’t keep you from making my dress for the party.” She stuffed her gloves into her handbag and snapped it shut.

  Agnes’s indifference to her suffering didn’t surprise Greta. “Not at all. It’s completed. If you’ll just step behind the curtain, I’ll go get it.” Greta waited until she walked away, then turned to Cole, who stood patiently with a smile. “And you, Cole—are you doing well?”

  Cole observed her with interest through long, thick lashes before answering. “Good as ever, Miss Greta,” he said, removing his hat. “She talked me into accompanying her today, but I’m glad because it gave me a chance to see you again.” He held up his hand. “Yes, I know you’re marrying Zach, but a fella can still feast his eyes on a lady of beauty.”

  In spite of herself, she found herself blushing. “You’re too kind. I’d better hurry and get her dress. I don’t want to keep her waiting. Make yourself at home.”

  “I’ll go get Jess and bend his ear while I wait.” Cole turned toward the counter where Jess was.

  “He’s assisting Silas and Annabelle.”

  “No problem. I’ll just wait.” He smiled back at her.

  “Then have a seat by the stove. We have a table and chairs now. Cora should be back down soon with fresh-brewed coffee.”

  “You don’t say? Now that’s what I call customer service.” He grinned and strode over to sit at the new table to wait on his sister.

  Greta quickly retrieved the box that Granny had placed the dress in and slipped behind the curtain, where Agnes stood waiting with an impatient glare. “Here we are. I think it turned out lovely.”

  Agnes’s eyes lit up when Greta removed the dress from the box. “Ooh, I can hardly wait to try it on.” Agnes snatched the dress from Greta’s fingers, pulled it over her head, and whirled around to gaze at herself in the mirror. “Will you button up the back for me?” she asked.

  “Certainly. You’ll be the hit at your party—” Greta frowned, trying to pull the back of the dress together at the waist until her fingers hurt. “Hmm . . .” The two pieces of fabric were about an inch from closing. Now how did that happen? she wondered, biting her lip. I know Granny and I went over the measurements more than once before we sewed the whole thing up and added buttons.

  “Is something wrong?” Agnes looked at the mirror that reflected Greta behind her.

  “Agnes . . . are you standing up straight? Could you suck in your stomach just a wee bit?”

  “Of course I’m standing up straight! Didn’t you make the dress according to my measurements?”

  Greta took the tape measure from her apron pocket and carefully measured Agnes’s waist again, then glanced at the numbers she’d jotted down last week. Agnes was not going to like her answer. Not at all!

  “I’m sorry, Agnes, but the dress is an inch away from closing at the back, near your waist.” She walked around to face Agnes and her displeasure.

  “How on earth can that be? Really! Don’t you even know how to take accurate measurements?” Her annoyance was obvious. “Why did I trust you in the first place?”

  Greta blinked, biting her lip to keep from saying something she’d only come to regret. She thrust the paper with her measurements in front of Agnes’s nose. “See for yourself. It appears that you’ve gained a pound or two at your waist since we took these. The dress matches my numbers.”

  She watched as Agnes stared down at the paper, all color draining from her face. “No!” Agnes shrieked, letting the paper flutter to the floor.

  ———

  Jess and Zach were talking with Cole and the Meads when they all heard Agnes scream.

  “Whatever is wrong with Agnes?” Cora asked, hurrying over to set the coffeepot and mugs down.

  Cole laughed heartily. “Agnes!” he called out loud enough for the entire store to hear. “I think you’ve been eating too many of Mabel’s biscuits while staying in town.” He turned to the group. “She’ll let me have it later, but I just couldn’t resist. I’ve been telling her that she can’t sit all day and let people wait on her, but do you think she’ll listen?”

  “I’d better go see what I can do to help Greta out then,” Cora said, shaking her head as she scurried over to the curtained area.

  “You do that, Cora. I’ll see you later. I’m taking Caleb out for a few hours to help me clear a path to my cabin site. See you later, Cole.” Zach winked at her, then went in search of Caleb.

  ———

  “Do you need some help, Greta?” Cora asked as she stepped inside the curtained-off area. “Is everything okay? Can I help?”

  “You tell that brother of mine he’ll pay for blurting that out for the world to hear!” Agnes sputtered, her hands on her hips. Greta glanced at Cora, who stood helpless, and gave her an “I told you so” look. She almost felt sorry for Agnes.

  “Nee. No, it appears that this dress will have to be let out a good half inch on either side, if there’s enough fabric to let out. If so, it won’t take me long,” Greta mumbled through the pins sticking out of her mouth. “I can probably have the dress ready late tomorrow afternoon, but not before since I’ll have to reset the buttons,” she said with a hint of irritation. She turned her attention to marking the dress with the pins rather than let Cora read her eyes. Of course, Cora couldn’t know that Greta had seen her and Jess together earlier. Greta must have time to think this through later.

  “Oh dear . . . I see. Then I’ll just let you work.” Cora turned to leave. “Just let me know if there’s anything either of you need.”

  “There. I’ve pinned where it needs to be,” Greta said, standing back to look up at Agnes on the upturned crate.

  Agnes took the dress off and handed it to Greta. With trembling lips she muttered, “I’m sorry, Greta, for talking to you that way. I shouldn’t have. Cole loves to tease me, but . . . unfortunately, he’s right. I’ve been eating far more than I’ve been doing anything productive.” She pursed her lips into a tight line.

  “It’s all right. I never had brothers, and you’re lucky to have one to tease you. We’ll get this taken care of, and you’ll be the prettiest one at your barbecue.” Greta choked out the words, but she did mean it. Agnes was very pretty, even if she’d put on a few pounds. “I’m glad that you gave me a chance to make the dress for you. It’s generated a greater interest for me in sewing.”

  Agnes stepped off the crate and donned her dress. She pulled on her gloves, picked up her handbag, and turned to leave, then paused. With a somber face she sighed, twisting her purse strings with agitation. “I do want to be your friend since you’re new here. We’ve gotten off to a bad start, but I meant no harm, truly.” Her eyes misted. “I guess I was just jealous of you and Jess.”

  “Well . . . you’re badly mistaken about me and Jess. I thought I told you that he and Cora were getting married.”

  “Maybe you did, but it was Cora whom Zach took to dinner at the Teller House while you were indisposed at Granny’s . . . so naturally I assumed—”

  “You assumed wrong. The
y’re just friends.” If only she’d seen what I saw earlier.

  Agnes’s trim eyebrows elevated. “It didn’t look that way to me, but whatever you want to believe. I’ll be back for the dress tomorrow. Better watch out for these men. They’re not always truthful, you know.”

  Greta was beginning to get a glimpse of that fact.

  28

  Cora grabbed her coat and ran out to meet Jess, who was waiting to take her to Granny’s. She stopped long enough to tell Caleb to let Zach and Greta know not to wait for her for supper. She was pleased with herself for having thought of the Blue Willow for Greta’s wedding present . . . but not for a wedding to Zach. She wondered if Greta could come to care for Jess or perhaps someone like Cole. Cole did seem to have an eye for her.

  The night Greta had shown Cora the Blue Willow cake server and told her the legend of Blue Willow, she’d gotten the idea of the dishes for her friend. Now if she could just find them in Granny’s attic . . . if there were any Blue Willow dishes there.

  Jess assisted her into the wagon, and soon they were making their way through the crowded Main Street toward Black Hawk. Maybe this would be a good time to talk, but she’d promised Zach that she’d let him talk to Jess the first chance he got. The chance hadn’t revealed itself yet, to her knowledge.

  “I guess I could’ve borrowed a horse from you.” Cora tried small talk.

  “It’s no trouble, honestly. I can drop you off and come back after supper. If you find the dishes, then we can put ’em in the wagon. You couldn’t very well carry them that far,” Jess remarked, watching the crowded road and weaving his way among wagons, people, and horses. “But I have to warn you. You might not be able to locate them right away. Granny’s been hoarding stuff for years. She might know where she placed my mother’s dishes, though. Hard to tell.”

  Cora glanced at Jess. Why didn’t he try to hold her hand? Or talk to her about their wedding? He had no idea about her feelings for Zach and could’ve used this as an opportunity while he and Cora were alone. Not that she wanted him to, but she was curious that he hadn’t so much as tried. Strange man.

  “She won’t mind that I’m showing up unannounced, will she?”

  Jess laughed. “Granny? Never. That woman was born to boss—er, talk.”

  Cora chuckled at his comment. “Yet everyone seems to adore her, don’t they?”

  “You’re right. They do, and there’s not a more sincere heart in all of Colorado.”

  Cora nodded in agreement.

  The remainder of the ride was pleasant, with the slant of late afternoon sun between the crowded shops and housetops and a cool wind that hinted at the promise of fall. Cora breathed in the freshness of juniper and the heavy fragrance of pine, enjoying the chance to be outdoors again, which made her think about embarking on an exciting life with Zach on his ranch once they were married. There would be many opportunities to relish the outdoors. She could hardly wait for that day.

  Jess dropped her off at the front porch, and Cora waved him on as Granny opened the door.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by.”

  Granny pulled her inside. “I’m always glad to have company, but why did Jess bring you and leave? There must be something on your mind. Please come on in.” She had a crocheted shawl about her shoulders, covering a pretty black dress dotted with dainty white flowers and a lace collar.

  “Yes, Granny, there is, and I think maybe you could help us out.”

  Granny raised an eyebrow and listened intently while Cora told her of her mission. “My dear, you are welcome to search the attic for that box, but I don’t recollect that Jess put that box of his mother’s dishes in the attic. That doesn’t mean he didn’t, either.” She sighed, and sadness showed on her wrinkled face. “It was all I could do to get through those first few months after losing them.” Her blue eyes grew glassy.

  Cora leaned over and put her arm about Granny’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Won’t it be wonderful that in heaven, God will wipe away all our tears?”

  “Yes, it will.” Granny sniffed into her hankie. “Thank you for reminding me, Cora. I’ll try to remember that. Now let me show you the attic. I have supper simmering on the stove to attend to, but you can look to your heart’s content.” She moved spryly up the creaking attic stairs at the back of the hallway, and Cora followed.

  Granny opened the attic door. “There should be enough light for another thirty minutes, which could give you a small start. As you can see, nothing is really labeled or organized.”

  “Hmm, I see what you mean,” Cora commented as her eyes scanned the musky attic chock-full of stuff. “I’d better get started then.”

  “I’ll be in the kitchen, and if you’d like you can stay and have a bite to eat with me,” Granny said over her shoulder as she headed back down the stairs.

  “I’d like that very much. I’ll be down directly,” Cora said.

  Now, where to begin? Cora decided that it was logical that a more recently stored box would be placed nearest the front, so she started there. The attic creaked with every step she took. Since it was stuffy, she tried to open the window for some air, but it was stuck tight. She pounded at the edges with her hands, and finally it unstuck from its sash so she was able to shove the window up. She sucked in the fresh air.

  Looking down below, she smiled when she saw a pretty backyard full of a variety of flowers and an old wooden park bench under a tree. Ahh . . . she’d love to be sitting there reading. Maybe another day—today she had work to do.

  Dust flew from the top of the first box she reached for, and she sneezed heartily. This box held mostly mementos and scraps of newspaper clippings. She couldn’t help but take a closer look.

  She found a faded clipping of John Gregory, who hailed from Georgia, discovered the Gregory Gulch mine, and started the gold rush of Central City. Another article was related to a fire that destroyed most of Central City in 1874, and one was about William Gilpin, Colorado’s first territorial governor. It was interesting to learn more about the town she would be living in.

  Cora dragged over a box to sit on and opened another box. She laughed when she saw assorted children’s toys. She wondered if they’d belonged to Zach and Jess. Most likely they had.

  She was beginning to feel warm and was delighted when a stiff breeze blew in, rattling the window. The attic moaned as the elm tree branches swayed against the eaves. It was a cooler night than they’d had so far, and she was glad that she’d picked up her coat at the last minute. She was beginning to get used to the erratic temperatures of Colorado—the weather changed as quickly as a woman changed her mind.

  Another box held scraps of material, probably for quilt making. She made a mental note to ask Granny if she was planning on using the bits and pieces. Cora could turn them into a beautiful quilt for her and Zach. She enjoyed the solitude quilting afforded her.

  It wasn’t long before Granny called out from the bottom of the attic stairs for her to come down. Cora peered at the watch fob hanging from her blouse and was surprised to find nearly an hour had elapsed. She hadn’t noticed the waning sunlight with its speckled effect on the attic room until now, and soon it would be dark.

  “I’m coming down now,” she answered, shaking the dust from her dress. She’d have to come back tomorrow and plow through a few more boxes. But what if Granny was right and there were no dishes?

  I’ll just have to get an order out for the Blue Willow right away, that’s what I’ll do.

  Greta sat near the sewing machine, grateful that Granny had loaned it to her, and ripped out the seam at the waist where the skirt attached to the bodice of Agnes’s party dress. At least she wouldn’t have to sew this by hand. She glanced up to see Cora get in the wagon with Jess. The seam ripper in her hand stilled as she watched the two of them laughing and in apparent good spirits. Tears sprang to her eyes and she looked down, but she couldn’t see the threads to rip out. She wiped her eyes and tried to focus on letting out the dress. It wouldn’t d
o for her fingers to slip and slice a gap in the pretty material. Not after she’d spent so much time trying to create the perfect dress for Agnes.

  In her heart she truly wanted Cora to be happy . . . but did it have to be with Jess? Somehow she must have misread the looks that Cora had given Jess as just friendship. Cora doesn’t have an unkind bone in her body, and she definitely has more compassion in her little finger than I have in my entire body. Maybe she’s even more godly than I. Perhaps that was what Jess saw in Cora.

  When Jess kissed Greta, he never said he loved her, did he? She tried desperately to recall what he’d said that day at the cemetery and the day he’d received the box of Bryan’s personal effects. Her thoughts were all in a jumble.

  She would have to resign herself to the fact that Jess and Cora would soon be wed. She heaved a deep sigh. Life would continue . . . somehow. But oh, how her heart ached, and it seemed much worse this time than when Bryan had died.

  Another idea came to her as she finished tearing out the waistband. She would go tell Zach that they should go ahead with their ceremony or wedding—whatever it was to be—as planned in the beginning, right after he and Jess had had the women choose the china cups. Then maybe he could take her to his ranch and she wouldn’t have to face seeing Jess with Cora.

  29

  Jess was just pulling up in front of the mercantile when he saw Greta leaving. She was talking to Caleb, who was leaning back in a chair against the wall, whittling. Jess stood there watching her. She was as pretty as the most delicate hummingbird that drank from the columbines, but that image belied the strength he knew she held inside. He needed someone like her who loved him unconditionally. But today she’d been exceptionally cool, not stopping to have lunch and burying her head in the sewing machine, determined to get Agnes’s dress ready by tomorrow. That’s when he decided to give her a wide berth. She was upset about something, and when she was ready to talk, he’d be there. Could it be she was miffed that he hadn’t talked to Zach yet? He kept getting mixed signals from everyone to the point that he wasn’t sure about anything.