by Davis, Mary
“You make all your clothes?”
She nodded, not sure if he was impressed by that or repulsed.
“Burl’s, too? And the rest of your family?”
“There is nothing wrong with making one’s clothing.”
“I’m not saying that. It’s just that often you can tell when people in the city are wearing homespun clothing. Yours look like store-bought clothes. You must be an excellent seamstress.”
“Oh.” She tried not to smile and get puffed up with pride, but she couldn’t help but feel good about her God-given talent. And Mr. MacGregor’s compliment.
“If you have no preference, on the next block is Cameo’s. We’ll go there.”
“Not there.”
Mr. MacGregor raised his eyebrows. “Is there a reason? My tailor is next door and owns both stores. I can have Burl fitted while you are at Cameo’s.”
How could she tell him she’d been fired from there nearly a year ago when Burl had been cutting shines and she’d had to miss work too often. “Cameo’s is fine. I’ll go get my things.” She looked at the oversized, ill-fitting man’s coat from decades ago that Sally and Marjorie had given her. She couldn’t go into Cameo’s wearing that. She swung her shawl around her shoulders and pinned on her hat. Her shawl wouldn’t be nearly warm enough, but Cameo’s was only a short distance away.
It was quite cold above ground, and she almost regretted not wearing the old coat by the time they reached Cameo’s, but once she saw the look of disdain on Charlotte’s face, she regretted coming at all.
Charlotte strode over with purpose. “Alice, you know I don’t have any work for you.”
“Mrs. Freeman, I’m Ian MacGregor. I have employed Mrs. Dempsey and require different attire for work. Please find her a white blouse and dark skirt, and anything else she needs. I will be next door having the boy fitted as he is working in my store as well.”
Charlotte gave a simple nod. “I’ll take care of it.”
After the door closed behind Mr. MacGregor and Burl, Charlotte turned to her. “So you cast your net and caught yourself a man.”
“I did no such thing.”
“There’s no shame in it. With your looks, you should be looking for a man and not a job. A catch like Mr. MacGregor is no small thing.”
“I am not out to catch Mr. MacGregor or anyone else for a husband.” Why did everyone think she needed a husband?
“Pity.” Charlotte started walking. “Come this way.” She stopped and pulled five white shirtwaists off the rack and draped them over her arm. “I believe these are your size.”
Charlotte was going to wait on her and not pass her off to one of the other girls? She must be trying to impress Mr. MacGregor.
At another rack, Charlotte said, “What color of skirt do you prefer? Black? Navy? I have a nice deep green.”
Mr. MacGregor had said navy or black. “Navy, please.”
Charlotte pulled three long skirts and headed for a dressing room. “Let me know if you require anything else or if you need a different size.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“You would be wise to set your cap for Mr. MacGregor.” Charlotte drew the curtain across the opening of the dressing room.
She sighed. She was not setting her cap for that man. She put on a shirtwaist with tucks at the shoulders and pleats in the back. How many of these had she sewn while working here? She pulled on a skirt that she could have made. She wished Mr. MacGregor hadn’t insisted on buying store clothes. She could easily make these for less money.
“Alice?”
She pulled back the curtain.
Charlotte held out a strip of cloth. “Yes, this matches the skirt.” She tied it in a bow around Alice’s neck then smiled. “Lovely.”
Alice turned to the mirror. She looked like a Gibson girl featured in Harper’s Bazaar. She didn’t feel worthless in these clothes. It was amazing how nicer clothes could make you feel better about yourself.
Charlotte looked over her shoulder into the mirror. “I think Mr. MacGregor will be pleased.”
That made her insides tickle, but she was not out to please Mr. MacGregor with her looks or clothing. Besides, Mr. MacGregor didn’t judge people’s value by how they looked—at least, she hoped not.
She went next door and found the pair sitting. Mr. MacGregor stood when she entered, and smiled. “You look lovely.”
A smile rose up in her that he was pleased. “If it can wait a few days, I could sew these for much less money.”
“Nonsense.”
Burl stood. “I’m gettin’ a suit.”
Mr. MacGregor’s gaze stayed firmly attached to her. “We’re waiting for the alterations. They should be completed soon.”
A suit? “Burl isn’t old enough for a full suit. It’s too much. A simple shirt and pants will suffice.”
Sadness flittered in Mr. MacGregor’s eyes. “The suit will also suffice.”
She wished she hadn’t sounded like she was scolding him. She much preferred his pleasure to his disappointment.
❧
At the end of the workday, Alice came up to Ian. “Mr. MacGregor, I have a small request.”
He was surprised to see her back in her yellow dress, then glanced at Burl in his old clothes, holding Fred. “You didn’t have to change out of your work clothes.”
“They would get ruined in the muddy streets.”
He nodded. Practical woman. “What is your request?”
“As you have no doubt noticed, we don’t have a lot. I was wondering if you could spare my day’s wage.”
He studied her a moment. Were they really that close to starving? He opened the cash register and handed her the wages for the day. He would note it in his accounting book later. It must have been hard for her to come and ask. “I was very pleased with your work today.” He turned to Burl and ruffled his hair. “And yours, too.” He walked them to the door.
“Good-bye, Fred.” Burl nuzzled his face into the dog’s scruffy fur before setting her down.
“I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Ian shut and locked the door behind them then watched them walk to the corner.
Conner came up beside him. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me, too.” It just felt right to have them both there. Lord, help me guide and direct Burl on the right path. A path that leads to Your will for his life.
Conner put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just glad it’s you this time instead of me.”
“Me what?”
“Being the hero.”
“I’m no hero.”
“You are to her,” Conner said.
“I doubt that. She looks at me with suspicion.”
“You’ve given her a job so she can feed her family, you’ve rescued her brother from getting into further trouble, and you’re giving him a better education than he can get at the public school. I think that qualifies you as her hero.”
Conner was some kind of character. “I don’t think she’s looking for a hero.”
“I think she likes you.”
He shook his head. “Conner, you ever think about writing dime novels? Because you have quite an imagination.”
Conner just smiled.
Ian had to smile, too. Anything he could do to gain Alice’s trust—and maybe one day her heart—was good.
❧
Alice headed straight for the grocers. She gathered up enough food for three days. When was the last time she’d been able to buy food for that many days? Thank You, Lord. She looked at what she had and calculated how much it would cost, then added a skein of red no. 8 spun truck to her lot. She had some knitting to do. After paying, she hurried home.
“I was beginning to worry.” Grandpa stood from where he sat at the table.
“Don’t get up.” She hurried over to the table and helped him back into the chair.
Burl set the bulging old flour sack he carried onto the table. “We got food for three whole days, and Mr. MacGregor buyed me a suit.”<
br />
“Bought you a suit.” Her correction didn’t dampen his good mood.
“Bought. And he teached—I mean taught me all sorts of things.”
Grandpa nodded. “Go wash up so you can help your sister with supper.”
“But—”
Grandpa gave him his “don’t argue with me” look, and Burl scampered off.
“How did work go?”
She didn’t want to think about it. “Terrible.”
Grandpa raised his eyebrows. “That bad?”
“Oh, I’m not fired. At least not yet. I probably should be but not for anything Burl did. He worked really hard. You would’ve been proud of him. Mr. MacGregor is going to school him.”
“He is? Was that his idea?”
She nodded.
“I’ll guess that sits well with the lad.”
Sit well? Burl looked up at Mr. MacGregor like Fred looked at Mr. Jackson when he had food for the dog. “Burl did everything Mr. MacGregor told him to do. He behaved perfectly. I wonder how long that will last.”
“This might be just what the boy needs, a father figure in his life. So what did you do that was so bad?”
She sighed. “I insulted Mr. MacGregor. I implied he was less than honorable. His face turned red.” Her heart had stirred at his embarrassment, and she wished she could recapture her careless accusation. “I don’t want to go back.”
“But you must.”
Nine
When Alice came in the next day, Burl was already sitting at the far end of the counter with a book open in front of him. Mr. MacGregor was sorting money into the cash register. Fred did not come to greet her, an indication of Mr. Jackson’s absence. “Where’s Mr. Jackson?”
“He’s at the dock. He has a friend from his childhood who is a captain, so even when I’m not expecting a shipment, he likes to go down there.”
“The same captain of the ship that Burl. . .was on?”
He gave a nod. “The same.”
That had been one of her more terrifying days. “I really appreciate Mr. Jackson’s helping Burl out that day.”
Mr. MacGregor’s eyes narrowed slightly.
She wondered why but let it pass as she took a deep breath. “You said that it was Mr. Jackson’s idea to have the reading material in the store, and he suggested selling some of your garden vegetables when they’re in season.”
“That’s right. Conner has a keen eye for business. He will do well when he opens his own store.”
She pulled out a three-foot-long knitted scarf. “I was wondering if I could put out scarves I knit. In all this damp, cold weather, a scarf will help keep people’s necks warm and help them not to get so many sore throats and colds.”
“Then they wouldn’t need my medicines.”
She looked down. “I didn’t think of that.” She was hoping to make some extra money.
“I like it. Preventative treatment. I would rather help keep my customers healthy than try to get them well after they are sick.” He held out his hand.
She handed him the scarf.
He wrapped it around his neck then wiggled his fingers through the three-inch slit she’d knitted into it. “There’s a hole in it.”
“It’s to tuck the other end in to keep it tight. That way you don’t have to have a big knot under your chin.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She stepped up to him and tucked the end through the slit. “Like that.” She looked up into his down-turned face, and her pulse quickened.
“Thank you,” he whispered then cleared his throat. “ ‘The pharmacy that keeps you well so you don’t need our medicine.’ I’ll take it.” He pulled out his wallet and paid her.
“You?”
“It wouldn’t do my customers any good for me to be sick. How would I help them? How many more do you have?”
“That’s the only one. I can go at lunch, if you’ll let me, and get more spun truck. I can knit at lunch and when we aren’t busy and you have no other chores for me, if that would be all right with you.”
“Of course. The store will get a small percentage of the price from the scarves, but the rest will be yours.”
“Yes. I knew that was the way you worked it with Mr. Jackson and the reading material.” Her hopes soared. She’d be making a little extra money. She’d buy the boys new shoes and fabric scraps to make a new quilt for Grandpa and Burl’s bed. Then maybe a new dress for herself. And of course enough food for everyone to eat their fill.
❧
A week later when Alice arrived at the store, she strolled to the back and into the storage room where her work clothes hung. Work clothes, she mused. They were the nicest clothes she had. As she hung up her worn, faded dress, she noticed Burl’s nice work clothes still on the peg. What was Mr. MacGregor having him do that he’d still be in his old clothes?
She tied an apron around her waist and took a bucket of water and a rag out to the front. She didn’t see her brother anywhere. “Where’s Burl?” He always arrived ahead of her even if they left home at the same time.
Conner raised his head. “Not in yet.”
Panic tightened her chest. “He should’ve been here well before me.”
Mr. MacGregor came around the counter to her. “We haven’t seen him this morning.”
Just then Burl scurried through the front door, his jacket askew and dirt on his face. With his head ducked, he hurried for the back room.
She stepped into his path. “I was worried about you.” She took in the tear in his jacket where the sleeve was separated from the shoulder. “What happened?”
Burl shot a look to Mr. MacGregor. “Nothin’.”
“You didn’t leave home like this.”
He shrugged and darted around her.
She turned to Mr. MacGregor and put her hands on her hips. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“But Burl gave you a knowing look. Like the two of you have a secret.”
“No secret. I just suspect he might have been taking care of some old business. Growing into trying to be a man.”
Old business? Trying to be a man? What “old business” could he possibly have? She wasn’t ready for him to be a man yet.
❧
A week later, as Ian turned the corner and strode toward his store, two youths ran along the sidewalk away from him. What were they doing down here this early? Then he saw his store windows smashed, all of them.
He could hear Fred whining from somewhere within. “Conner?” He wrenched open the door and crunched on broken glass. “Conner!” He headed toward the sound of whimpering.
Conner lay motionless behind one of the counters. Fred sat next to him, whining as she licked a cut on Conner’s forehead.
He quickly went to his knees beside his friend, checking for a pulse on his neck and looking to see if he was breathing. Conner’s chest rose and fell in short, rapid succession, and his heart drummed out a strong beat beneath his fingers. “Conner, can you hear me?”
Conner moaned but didn’t open his eyes.
“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” He ran to his telephone and rang for the hospital. He’d wondered about the wisdom of spending the money on the telephone when he rarely used it. His customers didn’t have telephones in their homes to call him. He didn’t even have a telephone in his home. Few people did. Now he was very glad he’d spent the money and paid the monthly fee.
“First Providence Hospital.”
He spoke into the mouthpiece. “I have an injured man. Send a doctor.” He gave the address and hung up.
He rushed back to Conner’s side. “Help will be here soon. Can you speak to me?”
Conner moved his head slightly and winced but made no sound. Other than the cut on the man’s forehead, Ian couldn’t see any other injuries.
❧
The doctor arrived down the back stairs with Mr. Lansky, Ian’s landlord, who ran his own store upstairs at street level. Ian showed the doctor to Conner and told th
em both what happened.
Mr. Lansky noticed the broken glass. “I’ll notify the police, as well.”
“Thank you.”
Burl came through the front door then. “Mr. MacGregor, what happened?”
“Someone broke in and hurt Conner. Now stay back.”
“Mr. Jackson’s hurt?” Burl’s voice cracked.
The doctor examined Conner. When he moved Conner’s arm, Conner moaned and held his breath. The doctor unbuttoned Conner’s cuff and gently pulled up his sleeve. The arm was red and swollen.
Ian guessed it was broken.
The doctor looked up to him. “I’m going to need two sticks to splint this with.”
Silent tears rolled down Burl’s face.
Ian grabbed the boy by the arm and hustled him to the back. “Find me a board or two sticks, twelve to eighteen inches long.”
“Is Mr. Jackson gonna die?”
He hoped not. Conner had moaned a couple of times and felt pain. Those were both good signs. “I don’t think so. Now find me that wood.” He needed to get the boy’s mind off of Conner.
A police officer came down the back stairs then. “I hear you had a bit of trouble.”
He gave his full attention to the officer as Burl went off hunting for a splint. “Someone broke in and injured one of my employees.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“Whoever it was left before I got here. I did see two boys running along the sidewalk when I came up, but there’s no way to know if it was them.”
Burl gasped. He was standing with two slim boards in his hands.
“Take those to the doctor straightaway.”
Burl ran to the other room.
“Can you identify the boys?” the officer asked.
Ian shook his head. “They had their backs to me.” He’d have looked at their size and build a bit more closely if he’d known they might have broken into his store or anyone else’s.
“Is anything missing?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look.” It would take him a while to figure that out with the mess to clean up.
“Burl?” he heard Alice exclaim in a panicked voice.
“Alice,” Burl replied.
“Excuse me, Officer.” He hurried out to Alice, whose face was pale. Burl was at her side crying. Although Burl was nearly as tall as Alice, he was still just a boy.
