Mail Order Mix-Up

by Christine Johnson

  Thankfully Mrs. Wardman had arrived before he’d made that mistake.

  “Pearl?” He drew her attention back to procedure.

  Her color rose even higher, and Mrs. Wardman smiled in such a way that he suspected she misunderstood the relationship between Pearl and him.

  “Miss Lawson is going to watch the store for me tomorrow while I travel to Holland,” he explained.

  Mrs. Wardman’s grin didn’t go away.

  “I need to instruct her.”

  “Of course.” But her gaze darted between Pearl and him.

  Now he felt overheated. “Strictly business.”

  Pearl finally responded, echoing his words with an emphatic nod.

  “What else could it be?” Mrs. Wardman said, but that smile still hung on.

  Roland gave up trying to convince her and turned back to the matter at hand. “Once you have the weight of the flour, look up the cost per pound on the list.” He opened his book that detailed all the products in the store with their wholesale cost and retail price. He pointed to the retail price for wheat flour to ensure she got the correct figure. “Multiply that by five.”

  Pearl nodded.

  “I assume you can do simple calculations.”

  That brought out the old Pearl. “I should hope so, since I will be teaching arithmetic.”

  Roland relaxed and moved on. “Keep track of accounts in this ledger. There’s a page for each account, in alphabetical order by last name. If someone pays, it’s usually in company money. Sometimes in government currency. Most will put their purchases on account. Those who work for Stockton get a portion of their wage in store credit.”

  “I see.” She looked pained but thankfully said no more.

  “On account?” he asked Mrs. Wardman.

  She nodded, and the transaction was soon completed.

  “Stop by anytime,” the woman said to Pearl. “Our house is the one with the bridal veil bushes in front.”

  For some reason, Pearl flushed again, though she bid Mrs. Wardman a warm farewell.

  Once the door had closed behind her, Roland turned to Pearl. “That went well.”

  She glared back. “If you intend to confirm rumors.”

  “What rumors?”

  “If you can’t figure it out, I don’t see why I should tell you.”

  Women. This was exactly the sort of response that had driven him crazy with Eva. He wasn’t about to start down that road with Pearl, so he finished explaining where to find prices for the rest of the goods and how to log cash sales.

  “Now you know the basics about the store’s operation. You can sell anything on the price list, but don’t go into the stockroom.” He did not need a woman fiddling around in there.

  “What if someone asks for something not on display?”

  “Take their order.”

  Her irritation had eased while he outlined procedures. As long as he kept things strictly on business, they got along. The moment it drifted across the line, their relationship faltered. That was fine with him. He didn’t need the complication that a woman brought.

  “That should be enough to get you through the day,” he declared. “Anything else can wait until I return.”

  She nodded, as if she understood, but then rolled right into the unexpected. “When do you expect Mr. Stockton?”

  “Mr. Stockton? Why should you care?”

  “Would he show up tomorrow?”

  Ah, she was worried that his boss would find her in charge and ask where he was. Roland closed the ledger and tucked it back under the counter. “He went north looking for future business opportunities.”

  “Oh. Mr. Farmingham said he was in Chicago.”

  “That’s where he lives and where his business empire is centered, but he’s not there now. Don’t worry. He won’t stop in tomorrow.”

  Instead of easing her concerns, his reassurances deepened her frown. “Then when do you expect to see him?”

  “Why the sudden interest in Mr. Stockton?”

  “Because of the school. Mr. Farmingham said that Mr. Stockton oversaw operations.”

  Roland wasn’t aware of that. He thought the township officials were in charge, but it didn’t surprise him that Stockton had gotten involved. “From what Charlie said, it sounds like everything is being taken care of. The men are going to fix up the building, and I’m sure your friends will help you clean it.”

  She drew up to full height. “That will not replace the primers.”

  Roland groaned. Not the primers again. “Mr. Holmes and I will see if there are any in Holland.”

  “We need new primers.”

  “I can order them. You heard Mr. Holmes offer to take the order to Chicago with him.”

  The fire never left her eyes. “And who will pay for them?”

  Roland was no fool. That’s why she was asking all those questions, albeit in a roundabout way. “I’ll tell you right now that Mr. Stockton will not pay for primers.”

  She did not flinch. He respected that in her. She would make a fine businesswoman since she refused to back down to anyone. He would relish seeing her face down Stockton, but it wasn’t likely to happen. Not this month or next. Stockton would spend the ice-free months north and stop by to check on operations on his way to Chicago for the winter.

  “A donation, then,” she said. “Surely Mr. Stockton values educating the next generation. It can only help his business.”

  Roland stifled a grin at her idealistic vision. Stockton cared only about profit. Once the timber was gone, he would move on. Thus the trip north, where the forests were still thick. Stockton didn’t care about primers. If Pearl was going to the trouble of suggesting libraries and donations, Farmingham must have refused to pay. The parents around here sure wouldn’t take on an extra expense.

  He started to explain, but Pearl looked so certain of her plan that he couldn’t dash her hopes. Somehow he’d find primers or at least some books. Since Holmes took an interest in education, Roland could score extra points if he scrounged up the necessary materials.

  “We’ll find something in Holland,” he assured her.

  She didn’t look like she put much stock in that source.

  He added, “If not, we’ll find a way to buy them.”

  “We?”

  His use of the plural had brought the flush back to her cheeks. He liked it.

  “Yes, we.”

  Her gaze softened. “Thank you.”

  Her words whispered into his heart. He sure wished he had time for marriage, but his plans had to come first.

  Chapter Eight

  Pearl hummed as she washed the shelves in the general store. “I don’t think these have been touched in months.”

  “Maybe years.” Amanda sighed from the rear of the store. “I’ve been cleaning for hours.”

  “Only since seven o’clock this morning. It’s not even noon yet.”

  “It does smell better, though. That lavender soap makes everything so much nicer. Oh my!” Amanda gasped. “Look at these.”

  “Look at what?” Doubtless Pearl’s friend had found another reason to stop working.

  “What pretty little teacups.”

  “Teacups?” Pearl couldn’t imagine why Roland would have teacups in stock. She hadn’t found one pretty item in the entire store.

  “An entire tea set.”

  Pearl joined her friend, who was peering into a crate by the door to the stockroom. “I don’t think we’re supposed to touch those.”

  That didn’t stop Amanda. She lifted a tiny porcelain cup. “It’s a child’s tea set. How sweet.” She drew in her breath. “Maybe it’s not for sale. Maybe it was ordered for someone.” Amanda bit her lip. “Could you check the books?”

  Th
at felt a lot like snooping. “No, I won’t. We are here to help out, not meddle.”

  “I’m not meddling.” Amanda pouted. “I just wondered... It would be so touching if the set was for Sadie. Maybe she has a birthday.” Her eyes lit up. “We could celebrate. I-it might...well, her father might think differently about us if we got her a little gift.”

  Though there were a lot of ifs in that train of thought, Amanda could well have struck upon a way to impress the reluctant bachelor. The quickest way to his heart might be through his children.

  “I’ll look.” Since no one had stopped in the store after the early morning rush, she could devote a moment to looking through the ledgers. “But only if you put the teacup back exactly where you found it.” She did not want Roland to think they’d been looking through the crates.

  By the time she reached the counter, the bell tinkled, and one of the mill workers entered.

  “Where’s Mr. Roland?”

  Pearl assumed her most businesslike posture. “He was called out of town and left me in charge.”

  “He done took Charlie with him?”

  “Charlie is helping repair the schoolhouse. How may I help you?”

  “Need a hat. The wind done snatched it right off my head and plunked it into the river. Sank before we could get to it.”

  Pearl led him to the display of hats. “Make sure it fits snug, since the band tends to loosen over time.”

  He tried every one. “They’re all too small. Don’t ya got any more? Mr. Roland usually has some out back.”

  Pearl hesitated. Roland had told her not to go into the stockroom, least of all get anything out of there, but a customer’s needs must come first. She caught Amanda’s gaze. “Will you check the stockroom?”

  Her friend hurried through the back door, and Pearl turned her attention back to her customer. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  “Thank ye much, ma’am. A man can’t stand ta work outdoors without a hat.”

  “No, indeed.” Pearl scanned the list of goods, looking for additional hats, but she could only locate the ones on display.

  Amanda returned with an armload of hats. “Will one of these work?”

  It didn’t take long for the man to find one that fit perfectly, a sharp black leather hat with a brown leather hatband. “Put it on my account.”

  Pearl took his name and located the account, but she had no idea what price to put for the hat. It was different from the ones on display and she couldn’t locate any other listing.

  “What’s it cost?” the man asked.

  Pearl bit her lower lip. “I’m not certain. Mr. Decker doesn’t have the cost in his price list.”

  “Well now, I can’t go takin’ it if I can’t afford it.”

  That was the problem. “May I see the hat?”

  He handed it over. She examined it and decided it most closely matched a hat that Roland sold for two dollars. When the man agreed to the price, she wrote the transaction on his account and asked him to sign. He marked an X.

  “Thank ye, ma’am.” He plopped the hat on his head and left.

  She’d seen enough illiteracy that it shouldn’t have bothered her. After all, many who worked with their hands did so because they’d never learned to read and write. There was no dishonor in good hard labor, but the next generation must reach for more.

  She closed the book. “I’m going to change that.”

  “Change what?” Amanda asked.

  “It might be too late for the parents, but the children will learn to read and write.”

  “There you go again trying to change the world.”

  “For the better.” Pearl firmly believed that.

  “Will you at least let the children play? They can’t take constant education.”

  Naturally Amanda would think that. She had not excelled at studies, preferring to chatter away with friends or watch whichever boy she’d found handsome that week.

  “They will have a chance to exert themselves out of doors.”

  Amanda leaned against the counter and laughed. “You’re always so serious.”

  “Serious got me out of the orphanage.”

  Amanda’s high spirits deflated. “I’m sorry. If I could have stayed with you, I would have.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have allowed it.” Pearl felt awful for bringing up the past. Amanda had always carried a burden of guilt because she’d been chosen whereas Pearl had not. “It all worked out for the best. Now, let’s get back to finding that tea set.”

  As she’d expected, that pushed Amanda’s attention in a more positive direction. Her eyes sparkled. “Guess what else I found in the stockroom.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “A new rag doll. Just like Sadie’s except with both eyes and all its hair. She must have a birthday soon.” Amanda paused and bit her lip. “It won’t work, though.”

  “What won’t work?”

  “She’ll never take a new doll over her old one.”

  Pearl thought back to her Dollie, long gone. Miss Hornswoggle, the director of the orphanage, had taken it from her, saying she was too old for dolls. The director had carried it to the parlor, a room that was off-limits to the children unless they were sent to meet prospective parents. Doubtless her doll ended up in the parlor stove, for she never saw it again.

  No other doll or toy had replaced that loss in her heart. “You’re probably right.”

  “Maybe the tea set will make her smile,” Amanda said hopefully. “I must get her something.” She glanced around the store. “There’s nothing here for children.”

  “You already promised to make her a dress. And a matching one for her doll.”

  Amanda’s eyes lit up. “Of course! Now I just need to know when her birthday is. You could ask Roland.”

  “I am not asking him.”

  “Why not?” Amanda had perfected pouting. “He would know, and you are so good at getting people to tell you things.”

  Pearl was nothing of the sort. “You could ask Garrett.”

  Amanda blanched. “I could never.”

  “You might ask Mrs. Calloway.”

  “Of course. She would know. She watches the children almost every day. She also has a sewing machine. Can you believe it? She told me I could use it any time I wanted. Now all I need is fabric. Did Roland point out the cloth he said we could have?”

  Pearl had forgotten about that offer. “No, but it must be here somewhere, probably in the stockroom. Look for a bin of scraps.”

  Amanda was already gone.

  Pearl leaned against the counter, envisioning Roland giving Sadie the tea set. The solemn little girl might smile. Maybe she would even speak. At the very least, her eyes would light up. She hadn’t figured Roland for the thoughtful type. Though Garrett might have ordered the tea set, from what she’d heard last night, that was doubtful. He didn’t appear willing to part with a single penny for something unnecessary. The rag doll was more likely his gift.

  Roland saw the value in something pretty. That’s why he’d offered the fabric. He knew a little girl needed something to make her feel special.

  Pearl choked back a tear. At the orphanage, she always received the plainest frocks. The pretty girls got the pretty dresses. Pearl didn’t begrudge Amanda. She deserved a family and every good thing in life. Her parents had truly died. They did not abandon her like Pearl’s parents had. Just once Pearl wondered what it would feel like to be Cinderella at the ball instead of the ugly stepsister. She closed her eyes and imagined walking down the center of the ballroom with all those present amazed by her beauty.

  Just once.

  One time to think that someone would actually care about her, might even love her.

  “I found it!” Amanda’s exclamation shatter
ed the fantasy.

  Pearl opened her eyes and stared at the ledger. No balls or fine dresses for Pearl Lawson. She would teach school and give hope to the next generation.

  * * *

  Roland stepped into his store and stopped short. “What happened in here?”

  After yesterday’s meeting, he’d been so concerned about the place that he decided not to wait for a return boat and set off for Singapore on foot along the cart path between the towns. After ten miles of horseflies and blistering sun that turned into mosquitoes and muggy moonlight, he had simply noted that the store was still intact with the door locked before heading upstairs to yank his boots off and sink into bed.

  He had not expected to open up in the morning and see his store turned upside down.

  Charlie shrugged, hands in pockets like always. “Looks good to me.”

  “Did you stop in like I asked?”

  “Nope. Too busy up at the schoolhouse. By the way, I gotta finish up there today. Miss Lawson said she’d mind the store again.”

  Roland fumed. Miss Lawson would not set foot in his store except as a customer. Maybe not even then.

  He had only been gone a day. The place was...tidy. And clean. And... He sniffed. It smelled like...soap? And some flowery scent.

  He sneezed. Flowers always made him sneeze. He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose.

  “Open the windows and doors,” he ordered Charlie as his eyes watered.

  “I gotta go to the schoolhouse.”

  “They can wait long enough for you to open some windows.” Roland had to bang on the window casing to loosen the window from the frame. He should ask his brother to help him wax them, but time always got away. Now that the big sawmill was back running full steam, Garrett wouldn’t get many days off.

  “Never mind, Charlie. I’ll help Mr. Decker.”

  Pearl’s voice made Roland whip around.

  There she stood in the same dull brown dress that she’d worn every day except when he’d met her aboard ship. Oddly enough, the plain color made her features shine more intensely. The chestnut hair looked dark so early in the morning, but her emerald-green eyes stood out.