Lacy: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Pendleton Petticoats Book 5)

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Do you know her?” Grant asked as he stepped behind Lacy and admired the photo of the Indian woman holding a baby. She wore rings on three fingers and a beaded necklace with a dress made of soft deerskin, adorned with an intricate pattern created from seeds, beads, and shells. Shell disc earrings hung at her ears while her hair fell into two thick braids. A traditional conical-shaped woven cornhusk hat topped her head.

  “That’s my sister, Ruth.”

  Grant turned to her with a look of surprise. “She’s quite lovely. I can see a family resemblance.”

  Aware of the compliment hidden in Grant’s comment, Lacy smiled at him. “She’s by far the prettiest in our family.”

  “Do you have many siblings?” Grant asked as Lacy dusted her sister’s photograph and moved on to another.

  “Three. My brother John is the oldest. He works for a rancher. Ruth is next. She’s married to Tom Smith. Daniel is her oldest. Mary,” Lacy pointed to the baby in the photograph, “is two and Anna was born in November. Walker is my younger brother. He finished his schooling last year.”

  “Is Walker your favorite?” Grant took the rag from Lacy and reached above her to brush the top of a picture frame.

  Lacy spun around and stared at him. “Why would you ask that?”

  Grant handed the rag back to her. “Your eyes twinkled when you mentioned him. I just assumed he was probably your favorite. It’s okay. I won’t tell.”

  “Walker is seventeen, with so much potential. He and I see things differently than the rest of our family.” Lacy glanced around to make sure no one could hear them then realized it was silly since she and Grant were alone in the studio. “My brother wants to go to college and become an architect but my father will never allow it. Walker’s afraid to mention it to him. No one knows but me. Perhaps someday I’ll save enough money to be able to help Walker realize his dream.”

  Grant followed as she walked into the workroom and took a broom from the corner. “What about you, Miss Williams? What are your dreams?”

  She certainly couldn’t tell Grant her dream was to marry a man who loved her so fiercely and passionately that he’d let nothing stand in his way of making her his own. Not even the barriers of race or long-standing tradition. No, she wouldn’t share that with the banker, especially when his face came to mind as she thought about her dreams.

  Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and swept the floor. “I don’t know, Mr. Hill. I suppose right now my dream is to be allowed to live independently and make my own choices.”

  Grant took the broom from her and studied her face. “You seem like a woman full of determination and independence.”

  Lacy grabbed the broom from his hands and continued sweeping, uncertain what to say. When she finished, she glanced at Grant as he leaned against Tony’s worktable, studying her. Determined not to blush under his perusal, she put away the cleaning supplies and picked up her shawl. “What about you, Mr. Hill? Do you have siblings?”

  After they’d turned off the lights and exited through the front door of the studio, Grant locked the door. He took her elbow in his hand, escorting her in the direction of her apartment. “I have three sisters, all older than me. You wouldn’t believe how challenging it was to grow up in an all-girl house.”

  Lacy laughed, picturing Grant tormented by three older sisters. She wondered if they’d ever played dress up with him or embarrassed him in front of his friends. Somehow, she assumed they had. “Where do they live?”

  “Maude and her husband live in Boston. Agnes and her husband live in Pittsburgh. Eleanor and her husband live in Philadelphia, in the house where we grew up. After my father passed away, my mother decided to spend three months out of the year with each of us. Thankfully, I’m not due for a visit until June.”

  Furtively observing her escort, Lacy pondered Grant’s words. “Do you not enjoy spending time with your mother?”

  Grant’s chuckle held a mocking tone. “Oh, Miss Williams. Once you meet my mother, you’ll understand completely. Imogene Grant is demanding, opinionated, spoiled, and always right. Don’t get me wrong — I love my mother. It’s just easier to love her when she’s staying with one of my sisters.”

  Lacy couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping her mouth or the smile that lifted her lips. “I shall look forward to making her acquaintance.”

  “No, you won’t. Believe me, you honestly won’t, but it’s kind of you to pretend otherwise.” Grant stood beside Lacy as she slid the key into the lock and opened the back door to Ilsa’s shop.

  “Thank you for walking me home, Mr. Hill.” Lacy turned on the shop lights and glanced around to make sure everything seemed in order. Although she tried to hide it, Mr. Kent’s attempted attack left her rattled and more than a little frightened.

  “Would you like me to come inside and make sure everything is fine?” Grant hadn’t mentioned it to Lacy, but Kade filled him in on what transpired that evening and the reason she’d accompanied him to the restaurant.

  “No, I’m capable of taking care of myself, but I do appreciate the offer.” Lacy started to close the door, but Grant placed his hand on it, holding it open.

  The boyish grin he gave her made her knees weak while her heart tripped in her chest. “Before I go, I have a question for you.”

  “Yes? What is it?”

  “How did you know Kade was at the back door of the restaurant before he walked inside?”

  Lacy grinned. “I heard him. It’s easy to hear the jingle of his spurs and Kade has a distinctive tread. If you listen, you can tell it’s him.”

  Amazed by her attentive observations, Grant lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. A look of pleased astonishment filled her face.

  “Rest well, Miss Williams.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hill.”

  Grant walked off toward his big, empty house, oblivious to the cold or the snow. His thoughts swirled around the enchanting girl with the obsidian eyes and laugh full of summer sunshine.

  Chapter Five

  Grant stared out the bank window across the street. He’d watched Lacy breeze out the door fifteen minutes ago and she hadn’t yet returned. It was unusual for her to leave the telephone office during the middle of the day.

  He hoped she was well. Since the night Mr. Kent attempted to attack her, Grant made sure he left the bank at the same time she left the telephone office and walked her home.

  Kent worked just a few doors up the street, so Grant kept an eye on him. The man had stayed far away from the telephone office after the incident. Whether it was from the humiliation of being beaten by a woman or the fact that Lars and Kade threatened unendurable harm if he so much as glanced in the direction of Lacy again, the coward took a wide berth past that particular door.

  At any rate, the girls working there rested easier knowing Kent would leave them alone or face the wrath of two irate deputies.

  “Grant? Grant!” His assistant, Loren, waved a sheaf of papers in front of him, trying to capture his attention.

  “Sorry, Loren. Guess I was woolgathering.” Grant held out his hands for the papers.

  Loren smirked and pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the telephone office. “Woolgathering or skirt watching? She’s back, by the way.”

  Grant frowned at Loren but glanced up long enough to watch Lacy open the telephone office door with one hand while balancing a box in the other. It looked as though she’d retrieved sandwiches from a nearby restaurant.

  Relieved, he turned his attention to the papers requiring his signature. Galled that his interest in the beautiful dark-haired woman was so obvious, it annoyed him even more that his assistant had noticed.

  Mid-afternoon, Grant slipped on his coat, tugged on his hat, and yanked on his gloves. “I need some fresh air, Loren. Would you like me to bring you anything?”

  “Unless Mrs. Rawlings opens early and you can bring me some of those delicious cookies she makes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

  “I make no promise
s, but I’ll see what I can do.” Grant opened the door and stepped outside.

  After the snowstorm and horrific cold they’d endured a few weeks ago, the sun finally came out. The temperature climbed and turned the roads and streets into a muddy mess. Thank goodness, the downtown portion of Pendleton had paved the streets two years ago. A volunteer group of men shoveled the sidewalks to keep them clear while a crew from the city ran a horse-drawn plow along the streets, removing most of the snow.

  Grant and Tony were among the volunteers who helped with the shoveling. It was hard, backbreaking work, but Grant didn’t mind. It gave his muscles a challenge while letting his mind drift to thoughts beyond bank accounts and bookwork.

  Unfortunately, it most often drifted to Lacy Williams. Grant crossed the street and walked down the block before crossing two more intersections. The crisp winter air filled his lungs as he breathed deeply. Although it remained chilly outside, the sun provided welcome warmth and made the day much more enjoyable.

  Thoughts of sunshine brought Lacy to mind again, so Grant tried to focus on a project he’d started at his house. His mother always complained about how much she disliked the colors in the guest room she preferred to use when she stayed with him. He’d hired someone to strip off the old wallpaper and donated the bed coverings and décor to a charity. He planned to ask Marnie and Ilsa to offer some decorating tips.

  As strange as it seemed, Marnie appeared to know his mother’s tastes quite well. With her tactful suggestions, he’d even managed to purchase a few hats and dresses for his mother that weren’t covered with such an abundance of unnecessary fripperies that she looked like a ruffle-bedecked mushroom as she strolled around town.

  Grant chuckled to himself as he thought about how displeased those thoughts would make his mother. He had many weeks before she’d arrive to spend three months trying to find him a wife, reminding him how uncivilized life was in Pendleton, and urging him to return to Philadelphia.

  Born into a long line of bankers and investors, Grant grew up at his father’s bank, learning the trade. He attended college, graduated early, and immediately went to work at his father’s side.

  No one asked Grant what he wanted to be or do, never expecting him to want anything beyond a lifetime as a banker. When the chance arose to take over the bank in Pendleton, he jumped at the opportunity, bid his parents goodbye, and took the train west to Oregon.

  Grant loved the rugged town. He’d made good friends in the years that he’d lived there and became a part of a growing, thriving community. Each year, he could see civilization pushing the wildness of the town further and further back to the fringes. Part of him celebrated the progress while the rest of him mourned the loss of a way of life that would never be recaptured.

  He circled back around the block and strode past Caterina’s restaurant. The woman waved as he walked by, so he stopped and tapped on her door. She opened it with a smile and motioned him inside.

  “Are you on an errand or out enjoying the sunshine?” Caterina deftly flipped a white cloth over one of the tables and smoothed away a wrinkle as she spoke.

  Grant offered her a charming smile. “A little of both. My poor, overworked assistant practically begged me to bring back a few of your cookies. Do you think you could sell me a few if you have any on hand?”

  Caterina laughed and disappeared into the kitchen. Grant followed, familiar with both the back and front of her business. In addition to eating there frequently, he’d also helped wash dishes and cleared tables a few times when she was short-handed.

  Her assistant chef and a few of her staff were already hard at work preparing food for the upcoming meal. Caterina only served dinner, but for those who found a place at a table in the restaurant, it was well worth the wait.

  After removing the lid from a jar on the counter, she took out a handful of cookies and slid them into a small sack made from brown paper and glue. She folded the top down and handed it to Grant.

  He dug some change out of his pocket. When he held it out to her, she folded his fingers back over the money. “You know better than that. How many times must I remind you that you will always and forever eat here at no charge for believing in me and helping me start my business?”

  “But, Caterina, that was years ago. What kind of business person refuses to take money from their best customer?”

  “The kind who treasures her friends more than money. Now, take your cookies and go. I’ve got work to do.” Caterina gave him a gentle push away.

  Grant opened the back door and stepped outside. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

  “Your favorite — pork roast and gnocchi in cream sauce.” Caterina smiled at him. “I’ll save you a table.”

  “I’ll be here.” Grant tipped his hat to her before closing the door and walking around the corner of the restaurant back to the sidewalk out front. He slipped the sack of cookies into his coat pocket and glanced in Ilsa’s shop window when he walked by. No one appeared to be in the front portion of the shop. Generally, that meant Ilsa worked on a new design at her big worktable while Marnie, if she came into town for the day, ran the sewing machine and kept an eye on Laila.

  Marnie and Lars lived at Dogwood Corners, a mansion north of town. Aundy and Garrett purchased it after the owner was arrested and sent back to Virginia to face murder charges. Lars purchased the house and property from his sister and brother-in-law shortly before he proposed to Marnie. The newlywed couple turned the sprawling home into an orphanage and adopted four children.

  Sadie and Noah Webster’s outlaw father died from a gunshot wound that turned gangrene while Lars hunted him down. Not long after Marnie took them in, a working girl left her baby, Sophie, on the doorstep with a note for Marnie to look after her.

  Once Lars and Marnie wed, they added Lewis, a boy who ran errands at the brothel where Marnie had worked, to their growing family. Nine children now lived at the orphanage, ages two to fourteen. Arthur and Shea Meade oversaw the property and the orphanage with the help of Gertie, the former cook at the bawdy house.

  When the weather permitted, Marnie drove a wagon, or sleigh, to town and brought the children to school.

  Despite having so many children in her care, Marnie continued to work for Ilsa, enjoying an outlet for her creativity. Sophie, the youngest of the children at the orphanage, accompanied Marnie most days, providing a playmate for young Laila at the store.

  Grant admired Marnie for making a new life for herself and Lars and his family for looking beyond what she’d been to the person she’d become.

  If his mother had any idea one of her favorite females in Pendleton had once been the most sought after harlot at Miss Clementine’s, she’d suffer heart failure on the spot. Fortunately, no one felt inclined to mention Marnie’s past in Imogene Hill’s presence.

  Returning to the bank, Grant took his time removing his coat and hat, waiting for Loren to help the lone customer in the building. Solicitously, Grant held the door as the woman left. Although he left the sack of cookies hidden in his coat, their spicy scent soon filled the bank with a mouth-watering aroma.

  Loren looked up from the teller window with a narrowed gaze. “You’re holding out on me, Grant. Did you bring back cookies?”

  “How could you tell?” Grant took the sack from his coat pocket, removed one cookie then handed the rest to Loren.

  “I can’t believe you got Mrs. Rawlings to open her restaurant just to sell you a few cookies.”

  Grant grinned. “Me either. You should feel among the few and privileged.”

  “Believe me, I do.” Loren took a bite of his cookie and closed his eyes in bliss.

  Grant poured two cups of coffee from the pot on the stove and handed one to his assistant. They worked quietly the remainder of the afternoon. As the clock neared five, they locked the safe and pulled down the shades. Loren emptied the coffee pot and rinsed it while Grant banked the fire in the stove. Grant bid his employee a good evening as the man walked outside into the evening chil
l.

  Out of the range of sight, Grant kept watch by the bank door, waiting for the moment Lacy stepped onto the sidewalk. She usually left work a few minutes past five and today was no exception. Hurriedly yanking on his coat, Grant rushed outside, locked the bank door, and ran across the street.

  “Miss Williams! Might I make a request of you?” Grant fell into step beside Lacy. With the dignified way she carried herself, her attractive hairstyle, and expensive gown, she would have flawlessly blended into any social setting with grace and ease.

  The green dress she wore was one of Ilsa’s creations and fit her to perfection. He’d seen Lacy wear it several times since she’d moved to town and wondered how Ilsa had convinced the girl to take it. It would require months of her wages to pay for such a gown.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hill. You may make any request you like, but I can’t promise an affirmative reply.” The sassy grin she offered made his heart pound in his ears.

  “In that case, I wouldn’t be above begging.”

  His pleading glance brought her to a stop on the sidewalk and she gave him a probing look. “Please ask. I’m most eager to know what request would cause you to fall on your knees right here on the sidewalk and beg for my agreement.”

  Grant chuckled and took her elbow in his hand, guiding her in the direction of Caterina’s restaurant. “Would you please, please have dinner with me at Caterina’s? She’s serving my favorite meal and I’d be honored to have you join me.”

  “I’d love to but I don’t think… I really shouldn’t… it’s not that I don’t…” Lacy wanted, more than anything, to accompany Grant to dinner. Her hesitation stemmed from her desire to save every penny she could for Walker’s education. Now that her father had all but disowned her, she wanted to offer Walker an opportunity for his future before he found himself as trapped in a life dictated by tradition as their older siblings.

  “Please, Miss Williams. It will be my treat. After all, you deserve some compensation for having to sit across the table and endure my questionable presence not to mention this ugly mug.”