by Dawn Kinzer
“You mean it?” Rachel’s eyes lit up.
“More than that, I insist.” Millie smiled. “Now, Clara and Hope, would you like that cup of coffee? I’m sure the dress will fit perfectly, but would you like to see Rachel in it before you leave?”
“We would love that.” Clara glanced at Hope, as though offering assurance that it would be the right thing to do.
“Thank you. Of course we’ll stay.” Hope had no misgivings. Millie’s peaceful countenance and the warmth in her voice assured Hope that her blunder was forgiven.
Clara moved Rachel and her mother toward the stairs. “We can help ourselves to the coffee, Millie. You help Rachel into the dress.”
Mother and daughter headed up the staircase to the second floor, and Clara led Hope to the kitchen where they found a hot pot of coffee sitting on the stove. Clara poured each of them a steaming cup.
Hope took one, then followed her friend back into the parlor. “Clara, you were right to have reservations about making Rachel’s wedding dress. I should have asked her and Millie’s permission before we even started.”
“I got caught up in the excitement too. I guess we both learned something.” Clara sat on settee and motioned for Hope to sit next to her.
“Ladies, here comes the bride.” Millie’s grin almost stretched to both ears. She reached the bottom of the stairs, then turned her attention to the top.
Clara and Hope joined her. Rachel stepped into view, and Hope gasped, then caught Clara’s eye. The bride was breathtaking as she descended. The dress flowed with light, airy movements, and the lace added elegance. Rachel’s dark hair was swept up beneath the veil, her face glowed, and her hazel eyes sparkled with the joy of young love. She reached the bottom step with a big smile spread across her face and led them back into the parlor.
Millie sighed. “Honey, you look like a princess.”
“I feel like a princess!” Rachel turned around for them to view all sides of the dress. “Hope—Clara—I can never thank you enough. Caleb is going to think he’s stepped into a fairytale.”
Hope clasped her hands to her chest. “I couldn’t be more honored. You make the dress look like it came from one of the finest stores in New York. Maybe even Paris.”
As they stood admiring Clara’s stitching and sharing the humor in Annie’s new curtains being utilized, Hope couldn’t rid herself of the nagging thought that something was still lacking.
“Ladies, you’ll have to excuse us.” Millie turned to her daughter. “We should get you out of the dress until it’s time to prepare for the ceremony. We still have some other things to get accomplished and there isn’t much time.”
An idea came to mind, and Hope needed to speak up now or she’d lose the chance. “Clara, would you help Rachel change and hang up the gown? I’d like to speak with Millie.”
Clara gave her a questioning look, but didn’t refuse. She grinned at Rachel. “Back up the stairs, Princess.”
Millie motioned for Hope to sit. “What is it?”
Hope needed to be tactful, especially after her initial blunder. “Although Rachel is a stunning bride, it suddenly occurred to me that something is missing.”
“Missing?”
“She came into the Home Store yesterday with Sarah to find an adornment for her blue dress.”
“Yes, but now she’s not wearing that garment.” The light dimmed in Millie’s eyes. “And I was so busy trying to finish altering my dress, I didn’t even think about what she might wear with it.”
“Do you have any jewelry that I might see?” Hope’s idea could be brilliant, or it could be disastrous.
“Just a few pieces, nothing fancy or worth much.”
“Even so, we might find something that Rachel would like.”
Millie shrugged her shoulders. “You’re welcome to look. I’ll get the box from my bedroom.” She left the parlor, but returned in less than a minute and laid the wooden box with swirls carved on the top next to Hope.
She opened the box and searched the contents. Millie was right. Aside from several lovely brooches, the rest of the items were inexpensive trinkets, a pearl necklace with a broken clasp, and a man’s watch. Nothing that would do.
Her fingers grasped a velvet bag at the bottom of the box, and she held it up for Millie to see. “May I?” At Millie’s nod, Hope pulled the drawstrings and opened the bag, then removed a delicate gold chain and a locket with a pearl in the center. Old, but exquisite.
“Oh, my...I’d almost forgotten about that.” Millie took it from Hope, and with the chain draped over her fingers, she let the locket dangle in front of them. “It initially belonged to my grandmother. She gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. I wore it every day until Rachel was born, then put it away for safekeeping. You know how children are—grabbing at everything. Rachel was fascinated and wouldn’t leave it alone. She was a strong little one, and all it would take would be one little tug and the chain would have broken.”
“This is it. This is what’s missing.” Hope could have hugged Millie. “The locket will compliment Rachel’s wedding dress.”
“Are you sure?” Millie squinted. “It’s been around for years.”
“But that’s what makes it so special. It’s an heirloom, something passed down through generations. It’s been a part of your life and memories, and something she can wear long after the wedding dress is no longer suitable.” Hope grinned. “It’s perfect.”
“If you’re sure.” Millie’s eyes lit up, and excitement filled her voice.
Clara strolled into the parlor. “The bride will be down soon.”
“Millie, please show Rachel the locket and see how she feels.” Hope stood. “Clara and I will be on our way.”
Millie turned nervous eyes on Hope. “Don’t you want to wait—hear what she decides?”
Hope put her hand on Millie’s shoulder. “You can let me know later. I think this moment should be between mother and daughter.”
“What if she doesn’t like it? We’ll have to find something else.”
“Trust me. She’s going to love it.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Millie looked at Hope, then Clara. “This is going to be one of the best days of her life.” With the necklace in hand, she almost skipped up the stairs.
Clara perched her hands on her hips and gave Hope an amused smile. “What was that all about?”
“I found a lovely heirloom necklace in the bottom of Millie’s jewelry box and suggested that she offer it to Rachel as something special to wear on her wedding day.”
“Nice thought.”
“It’s still a shame that all the work Millie put into her wedding dress is wasted.” Inspiration rushed in like a locomotive without brakes. Hope stared at the empty stairs Millie had just ascended. “Clara, would you say that Rachel and her mother are now about the same size?”
Clara wrinkled her forehead. “Yes, I think they’re close.”
Hope raised an eyebrow at her friend.
“Are you suggesting?”
“We have four hours.” Hope bit her lip in excitement.
“Are you sure?”
“We could manage, but it would take both of us.” Hope took a few steps, then wiped her damp forehead. “Maybe it’s a crazy idea. We’ve already worked through the night, and there’s your family to consider.”
“I could go home long enough to check on the children and help Rose with breakfast.” Clara brushed lose tendrils of hair from her cheek. “We’ve come this far with the wedding, I’d like to at least try. What’s a few more hours out of our lives?”
“All right. But this time, we’ll talk to Millie before rushing head-on.” Hope raced up the stairs with Clara close behind, then knocked on Rachel’s bedroom door. “Millie, are you in there?”
Millie poked her head out. “Did you come to see Rachel?”
“Could we look at the wedding dress you altered?”
“Of course. I’ll get it.” In less than a minute, Millie stepped out of
the room with the dress in her arms, her questioning gaze moving from Hope to Clara, then back again.
Hope held the gown in front of Millie, studying several areas. She grinned at Clara. “Millie, do you have anything special to wear to the wedding?”
“No, there hasn’t been time to—are you suggesting?” Millie gasped. “I can’t wear a wedding dress to my daughter’s wedding. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Of course you can’t. But it looks like the gown will fit you, and if we made some changes...” Hope picked up the train and handed it to Clara.
“If it’s all right with you, Millie, I can cut the train and hem the bottom so the skirt falls at the same length all the way around.” Clara had caught the vision. Even after working all night, she seemed energized by their mission. “It would take me hours to sew by hand, but I could finish it in time for the wedding if I used my machine.”
“And I have lovely wide black ribbon that will work well as a sash, as well as delicate ribbon for a little trim.” Hope had a completed picture in her mind. “We can change the V-neck by adding a panel of black satin. I think I have enough in a box at home.”
Millie covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m overwhelmed.”
“Just say yes, Mother.” Rachel swung the bedroom door wide open. “There’s no one else to pass down the dress to, and you deserve to have something pretty to wear.”
“One more thing.” Hope was itching to get started. “A matching hat would be a finishing touch. I visited the millinery the other day, and the elderly owner is closing the shop soon, for good. Her inventory is quite small, but she has one plain white hat on her shelf, as well as a large black plume in stock. She lives not far from her shop. If closed, I might get her to open for this special occasion, and I’m sure she’d give me a good price on the hat and plume. And if you agree to all of this, Millie, it would be my gift.”
“This is all very exciting, but it’s too generous. I couldn’t possibly...” From Millie’s expression, she was struggling with wanting to accept, but not knowing if she should.
“It would be an honor to do this for you.” Hope glanced at Clara for help.
“Hope’s right. If your guests like what we’ve done for you and Rachel, they might spread the word. You’d be doing us a favor.”
Millie’s chin quivered. “All right. Thank you.” She hugged Hope, then Clara. “Thank you.”
“We’d better get to work if we’re going to have everything back to you in time for the wedding.” Exhilarated, Hope would do everything she could to help the mother of the bride feel as beautiful as her daughter.
Hope led the way back down the steps and outside into the sunshine where she took a deep breath of fresh air. “Oh my, Clara. I was feeling terrible because I’d neglected to think about Millie’s feelings concerning Rachel’s dress. But I think I just redeemed myself.”
“Your heart was in the right place, and it’s all worked out.”
Yes, everything had been resolved despite Hope’s impulsive actions, and much of it due to Clara’s help. Hope glanced at her friend as they strode down the street. They’d worked well as a team. How many more opportunities would there be to see what they could accomplish together?
chapteR FOURTEEN
After taking a swig of water, Ben dropped to the thick grass under a maple tree on the library’s front lawn. Hunger gnawed his empty stomach, and he eagerly opened the basket Annie had delivered containing chicken sandwiches, egg salad sandwiches, apples, and oatmeal cookies.
The sound of a hammer pounding came from inside the soon-to-be library, and laughter burst from a group of youth volunteering their time to paint the outside of the building. Despite spending time teasing and chasing each other, they’d accomplished a great deal.
He should probably wait for the others to come, but he hadn’t eaten for hours, and the smell of food wafting from the basket stimulated his insides again.
“May I join you?” Hope stepped into the shade offered by the large tree’s canopy, escaping the sun’s hot rays.
“Didn’t you and Annie put this meal together?”
“True.” Hope gracefully lowered herself to the ground.
He opened the basket, grabbed an apple, and rubbed it against his sleeve. But instead of taking a bite, he stared at the fruit clutched in his hand. “Hope, I’ve wanted to ask—I mean—we haven’t talked.” Ben lifted his gaze to see her sitting prim, with her hands in her lap.
“Go ahead.”
“The truth?”
“Always.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else but you to have my painting, so I’m not only humbled, I’m also honored you bid at the auction.” Knowing that something personal to him remained close to Hope made him feel connected to her in a strange way, even when they were apart.
“Ben, you can’t possibly know how happy that makes me.” Hope’s gentle voice was like a pink watercolor, soft and feminine. “I hung your painting in my bedroom, out of sight, like I promised. It’s a treasure. When I open my eyes in the morning, I experience joy through that little boy, and before I close my eyes at night all I see is hope.”
“Thanks for keeping your promise. And thank you...” Words felt inadequate. “To know that it brings out those emotions means a lot to me.” All he’d ever wanted was to help people feel something through his paintings.
“I understand. Perhaps more than you realize.” Of course she understood. In a different, but somewhat similar way, Hope desired people to react to her work.
So, the question of where the artwork hung was answered, but curiosity about whether people had continued to speculate on who painted the picture of the boy with his dog had plagued him since the day of the auction. Ben tossed the apple from one hand to the other. “I need to ask. Are people still wondering?”
“About the painter?”
He nodded. Then, trying to act nonchalant, shrugged. To make a big deal out of it now that several weeks had gone by would seem egotistical. Ben couldn’t deny pride played a part, but his reasons for asking were also laced with fear. He wasn’t ready to expose himself as an artist.
“I told anyone who asked that the painting was given anonymously. That’s the truth. Some people have speculated that the artist was a friend or customer of Mr. Carter’s, since his reputation and influence is widespread. It’s also been suggested that someone wanting to do a good deed from Martindale sent it.” She shooed several flies buzzing around the food basket. “But the person who can’t stand not knowing where the painting came from is Annie. Even more than knowing the artist, she desperately wants to meet the generous donor.”
Ben focused on the fruit in his hand. “I’ve been thinking about what you said after the auction, and you’re right.” He raised his gaze to meet Hope’s. “Annie deserves to know, and she needs to hear it from me. If she ever found out another way, it would hurt her.”
“Yes, it would. She’d be devastated.” The serious tone in her voice convinced him that he needed to be upfront with Annie as soon as possible. “That would be followed by anger and a desire to inflict great bodily harm to you.” The corners of Hope’s full lips lifted into a hint of a smile. The imp was teasing.
Her eyes twinkled, challenging him, but he resisted an urge to tickle her until she gave in and apologized for having a little fun at his expense. Then he’d surely be tempted to kiss those lips that piqued a desire to taste their sweetness. How would she respond if he did? Would she welcome the playfulness? Or would she reprimand him for not treating her like a proper lady?
Maybe another time—another place. Ben pulled himself back to reality. The hunger he’d begun to feel for her couldn’t be fed.
“We’re here, and I’m starved.” Annie marched up to them with Jake in tow.
It was disappointing to have his time with Hope interrupted, yet a relief. She enticed him, intrigued him, and also confused him. Ben thought he’d understood and accepted the past and the future. Then she entered his world, an
d now he questioned if he’d been wrong to shut out the possibility of having someone to love and share his art—his life. More than anything, Hattie had desired financial security in marriage—something he couldn’t promise. But if he was right, Hope wanted a partner who understood her creative passion, and wasn’t that what he yearned for too?
“Sorry to make you wait—unless you didn’t—but I had to insist that Jake get cleaned up.” Annie wrinkled her nose. “Trust me. You would not have wanted to come within a few feet of him.”
“Someone had to take down the old outhouse so we could put up the new one.” Jake ruffled Ben’s hair, then plopped down next to him. “I always manage to get the dirty jobs, while pretty boy here gets the easy ones.” He reached for the basket of food, put his hand in to grab an item, but stopped and handed the basket to Annie. “Ladies first.”
They passed the basket around, then sat quietly for a moment, filling their stomachs. Ben enjoyed the cool reprieve the tree offered from the hot August sun.
Annie glanced from Ben to Jake. “You know how much we appreciate your help, don’t you? Especially since this is harvest season. For you to take time on a Saturday to come here... well, I owe you.”
“Hey, Annie...” Jake nudged her shoulder with his. “You know we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to be.”
“Time and weather have been on our side. We’ll start working in the hay field on Monday.” Ben grabbed a cookie and passed the container to his brother.
“We can stay a few more hours, then we’ll have to head home to milk cows and get some other chores done. Now that we’ve decided to try dairy farming like some of the other farmers in the area, we’ve been adding to the herd.” Jake bit into the cookie, then closed his eyes and made sounds of pleasure.
“I understand you needing to get back to the farm. We’ve come so far already, I’m sure we’ll be ready to open as planned.” Annie brushed crumbs from her skirt. “Rebecca and I have already begun categorizing and shelving books.”
