Lacy laughed and shook her head. “In that case, lead on Mr. Hill. Dinner would be a small pittance for such a sacrifice.” Delighted at the prospect of spending time with Grant, Lacy couldn’t imagine anyone she’d rather sit across a table from and share a meal with than the fine-looking, engaging banker.
Never expecting an invitation to join him for dinner, and certainly not to Caterina’s restaurant, she experienced a moment of panic. Concerned about people’s reaction to dining with her, she hoped no one would say anything.
A quick mental review of her appearance made her grateful she’d relented and accepted the dress Ilsa insisted she keep. The previous fall, the gown had been part of a window display in the dress shop. Ilsa made a valiant attempt at persuading Lacy sunlight hitting it in the window damaged the dress. Although the skirt bore a few slight streaks of discoloration, with the manner in which the pleats fell, no one was the wiser.
Unable to wear the popular poufy hairstyle and keep her headset on properly, Lacy rolled back the sides of her hair and twisted the ends into a loose bun at the back of her head. A hasty check confirmed her hairpins held it in place. She still hadn’t purchased a coat. The shawl she wore served her well in her walks to and from work, around town, and to church on Sundays. She accompanied Tony and Ilsa to Pastor Whitting’s services and sat with them in the family pew.
Life since she’d moved to Pendleton had been exciting and full. She’d had no more run-ins with the contemptible Mr. Kent. Walker had visited her a few times and she’d gone out to visit her grandmother one Saturday afternoon.
But she missed her family. Thoughts of Ruth’s babies made her heart ache, so she returned her attention to the attentive man at her side.
A large part of the reason she enjoyed living in Pendleton was Grant Hill. Thoroughly enchanted by the banker, Lacy realized her feelings were ridiculous and unfounded. Regardless, she couldn’t help the way her heart lurched at the sound of his voice or her legs wobbled at the masculine scent of him.
“Right this way, Miss Williams.” Grant held open the door to Caterina’s restaurant and escorted Lacy inside. Since it was early, only a few patrons sat at tables. A young woman greeted them with a cheery smile and showed them to a table for two in the corner, affording them a small measure of privacy. Lacy took the seat Grant held out for her with her back to the wall and released a sigh of relief.
Other than a cursory glance as they walked in, no one appeared to pay them any mind.
“Have you dined here before? I mean in the restaurant area, not in the kitchen.” Grant watched Lacy remove her shawl and drape it over the back of her chair.
“No, I haven’t. My grandmother will be excited to hear all about it. She’s often mentioned wanting to eat here.” Lacy looked around, taking note of the rich damask wallpaper, polished wood, and soft lighting of the restaurant’s dining room. Silverware gleamed on the spotless white tablecloths while mouth-watering scents lingered in the air.
Averse to missing a single detail, Lacy studied her surroundings, memorizing it all to share with her grandmother.
Eventually, her gaze returned to Grant. Drawn to his kind hazel eyes, she liked the way they crinkled at the corner, as if he spent much of his time either laughing or gazing into the sun. By the fact his face held color and wasn’t pale like so many of the businessmen in town, she assumed the cause could come from either reason.
Despite his incredibly attractive features, like a firm jaw and full lips, Grant’s face held a certain amount of ruggedness Lacy found inordinately alluring.
In fact, she found most everything about Grant appealing. Far too appealing if the way her thoughts jumbled and her stomach fluttered in his presence was any indication.
As a young girl, when she’d dreamed of the perfect man, she’d never been able to conjure a face, just a feeling. A sense of home and acceptance, excitement and longing, but most of all it was a sense of unconditional love.
It was the same feeling that flooded over her every time she encountered Grant.
Most likely, she would end up marrying someone from the reservation, or at the very least someone who shared her native roots. The bonds of tradition were nearly impossible to break, especially for a young woman who just wanted to earn her father’s approval.
In spite of what was expected of her, she wished she could have a future with Grant. The aching loneliness that had plagued her for years disappeared when she was with him. Something about the banker, something she couldn’t describe or name, whispered to her heart.
“You look lost in your thoughts. Are you well?” Grant’s voice pulled Lacy from her musings.
Embarrassed, she nodded her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hill. I’m not proving to be very good company this evening.”
“Don’t give it a thought, Miss Williams.” He observed her a moment and shot a teasing glance her way. “However, I would like you to give something of importance due consideration.”
“What might that be?” Lacy smiled as a server stopped at their table with a laden tray. He set a glass of water before each of them along with a small plate. A basket of warm, crusty bread took a center position on the table. The young man drizzled olive oil onto the plates, sprinkled it with fragrant dried spices, and quickly departed.
Grant broke off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the oil before popping the bite into his mouth. Lacy took a small piece and tried it, savoring the unfamiliar flavors skipping across her tastebuds.
After clearing his throat, Grant leveled her with a look that made heat pool in her mid-section and flow to every extremity. “Miss Williams, I would be most pleased if you’d consider calling me Grant. Perhaps I’m mistaken, but I believe we’ve become friends these past few weeks. As such, I’d very much like to refer to you as Lacy. Would you be willing to accept my request?”
Pleased Grant considered her a friend, Lacy liked the idea of calling him by his first name. She’d not thought of him as Mr. Hill since the day he first bumped into her although she continued to address him with formality.
The waiter reappeared with two plates of vegetables coated in a vinaigrette dressing. Once he disappeared, Lacy responded to Grant’s request.
“I would be willing to call you by your given name and thank you for suggesting it.”
“Good. Now, you must fill me in on all the news from the telephone office. Have you somehow convinced Mrs. Olathe to stop listening in on all her neighbor’s calls?”
Lacy grinned and took a bite of the vegetables. They discussed some of the more trying subscribers of the telephone service. Concerned about the privacy of his customers, Grant had paid extra to have a private line run to the bank. He’d heard enough gossip around town to know many of the people on party lines felt it their duty to listen in and share the tidbits they gleaned from conversations that weren’t any of their business.
Caterina carried the main course out to their table, smiling broadly at Lacy. “I heard Grant had a guest at his table, but they didn’t tell me it was you, Lacy. I’m so happy to see you.”
“Thank you, Caterina. Everything has been delicious.”
Amusement bubbled out of Caterina as she set plates of steaming food in front of them. “All you’ve had is bread and marinated vegetables. Wait until you try the gnocchi. You better eat it quick, though, or you’ll have to fight off Grant. He’s been known to beg for thirds. Just watch, he’ll gobble this down and ask for more.”
Grant offered Lacy a sheepish grin. “I’d be offended if it wasn’t true.”
Lacy forked a dainty bite of the potato dumpling covered in a creamy sauce. Caterina and Grant both appeared anxious as she wiped her mouth on a napkin.
“That is wonderful. Maybe you can share the recipe with me sometime.” Lacy eagerly forked another bite while Grant began eating his dinner with enthusiasm.
“I’d love to teach you how to make it. Come by some Saturday and I’ll show you how.”
“Be careful what you offer. I might just take
you up on it.” The thought of spending time in Caterina’s kitchen, learning how to make something Italian, sounded like fun to Lacy. Walker would love it if she learned how to cook a few Italian dishes.
“I hope you do.” Caterina grinned then rushed back to her kitchen as the dinner crowd began to arrive.
Although Lacy expected someone to point and stare at her, not a single patron of the restaurant gave her more than a second glance. However, Grant continued to gaze at her in a way that left her both unsettled and intrigued.
When he caught their server’s attention and asked for another helping of gnocchi and pork, Lacy couldn’t hide her smile. “I see Caterina’s predictions are correct.”
Grant raised an eyebrow and smirked. “There’s nothing I can say in my defense except I know how to appreciate good food. In fact, the very meal we’re eating this evening is the one Caterina served when she was trying to talk me into giving her a loan to start this business.”
“It is?” Lacy didn’t think anyone would loan a woman money, regardless of her beauty or intellect.
“She was staying with Aundy and Garrett at the time, having arrived just weeks before in town. Caterina came to the bank with a business proposal, but I turned her down. Then she gave me a tin of her cookies and invited me to try a sample dinner. How could I refuse?”
“How indeed?” Lacy smiled indulgently when the server returned with another helping of the meal for Grant.
Grant took a few bites then pointed to the last forkful of gnocchi on Lacy’s plate. “Caterina really would be happy to teach you how to make it. She loves to cook and I’ve noticed she’s willing to share her recipes with a select few.”
“Select few?”
“People she knows won’t take the recipes and try to open a competing restaurant. She might be generous, but she isn’t stupid.”
Grant finished his second helping as the server approached with two cups of coffee. He set them down and cleared away their plates. “Would you like dessert this evening?”
“Sure. What’s on the menu tonight?” Grant leaned back in his chair.
“Mrs. Rawlings made chocolate cake or she has zabaglione with sweet cherry preserves and whipped cream.”
Lacy had no idea what the second choice was, so she looked to Grant.
“Do you like pudding?” he asked. She nodded her head and he looked to the waiter. “Two of the zabagliones please, Johnny.”
“Coming right up, Mr. Hill.”
While she sipped her coffee, Lacy observed Grant’s easy, friendly manner with the staff at the restaurant. He always appeared open and approachable, someone people seemed to want to know. The trait was one she admired, especially after the formidable presence of her father and his friends.
Fascinated with the banker, she covertly studied him. “Please correct me if I’m making an error in my assumptions, but you must come here often.”
Grant set down his coffee cup and grinned. “Most every night. I’d eat here seven days a week, but Caterina keeps the doors closed on Sundays and Mondays.”
“I see.” Lacy’s saucy smile made warmth spread through Grant’s chest. “And what do you do the other two evenings?”
“Fend for myself. I’ve managed to not set fire to the kitchen and usually make something somewhat edible.”
Lacy shook her head. “I take it cooking isn’t your strong point.”
“Not at all. Growing up, we always had kitchen help. None of my sisters learned to cook and I didn’t give a thought to needing the skill until I moved here. My mother insists I hire a full staff for my house, but I’m gone so much, I don’t see the need. Mrs. Greene comes in twice a week and cleans house.”
Lacy pondered what it would be like to live in a house with servants catering to her every need. So far beyond her grasp of reality, she struggled to imagine it.
Johnny returned with their dessert. Lacy enjoyed each creamy bite, accented by the tart yet sweet cherries canned from fruit picked at the Nash’s orchard.
When they finished, Grant left money on the table, rose to his feet, and pulled out Lacy’s chair. He lifted her shawl and draped it around her shoulders in a gesture more familiar than their budding friendship would deem appropriate. Lacy failed to muster the will to say anything, though. She enjoyed the brief contact of Grant’s hand brushing over her shoulder as he settled her shawl in place.
“Come back again soon!” Caterina waved to them as Grant walked Lacy to the door.
Lacy nodded her head, mindful of all eyes on her now that Caterina had called attention their direction. Grant escorted her outside where the chilly air rapidly cooled her flaming cheeks.
“Did you enjoy your dinner?”
“I did. Thank you ever so much for the invitation.” Without the eyes of all the diners on her, Lacy relaxed. Grant sauntered down the street beside her.
With a hand to her elbow, he guided her around an icy spot on the sidewalk where a puddle of melted snow had frozen. “I hope you enjoyed it enough you’ll accompany me again.”
Lacy glanced at him through lowered lashes while a smile pulled at her lips. “I suppose I could tolerate your company another time.”
Normally, her teasing would have made Grant chuckle. Instead, his focus lingered on the way her dark eyelashes fanned her cheeks and her enticing mouth created a temptation he found hard to resist.
Thoughts of her lips, ripe and full, made his mouth water with wanting. Deliberately reining in his longing, he grasped for a distraction. “Did I see your brother yesterday?”
Lacy nodded her head. “Yes. He rode into town to bring some of the bags Grandmother finished for Ilsa.” Since Ilsa opened her shop, she’d hired Rebecca and a few other women on the reservation to create hand-beaded bags she sold in her shop. Occasionally, she also had Rebecca bead intricate patterns on some of her one-of-a-kind dress designs. Lacy learned the art of beading but lacked the patience to sit for the hours required to gain the skill her grandmother possessed.
“My mother has several of the bags your grandmother created. They’re among her favorites. I’ve purchased a few as gifts for my sisters, too. Rebecca’s work is unparalleled.”
Delighted by his words of praise, Lacy turned and smiled at him when they stopped outside the back door of Ilsa’s shop. “I’ll share that with her. She always likes to know her efforts are appreciated, beyond Ilsa’s, of course.”
“Of course,” Grant agreed.
Sad to see the evening end, Lacy needed to go inside. The thin shawl around her shoulders offered scant protection against the falling temperatures. It wasn’t the cold, though, that made her knees and hands tremble. She attributed that to Grant.
The look on his face combined with his enticing scent knocked her senses askew and made her wish for things that would never be.
She spun around and unlocked her door, stepping inside. “Thank you for this evening, Grant. I had a lovely time.”
He reached out and clasped her hand in his, lifting the back of it to his lips and pressing a warm kiss to her soft skin. For a long moment, he held her gaze along with her hand while charged currents passed between them.
Finally, he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “Thank you for accompanying me. I enjoy spending time with you, Lacy.”
Certain her legs would collapse from the sensation of his lips on her skin, she pulled her hand away and took another step back. “Good night, Grant.”
Slowly closing the door, Lacy didn’t bother turning on the lights as she walked to the stairs on wobbly knees. She sank down on a step and gaped at her hand in the muted darkness. Would a kiss from Grant on her lips prove fatal if a simple peck on her hand left her so discombobulated?
Grant stared at the closed door and listened to the resounding click of the lock. Everything in him longed to beg Lacy to open it, open herself to him and let him take her in his arms.
Sheer force of will turned him away from the door. Contemplative, he walked home, lost in thoughts of her.
Utterly mesmerized by the way moonlight caressed Lacy as she stood at the door, he’d wanted to trace the contours it highlighted on her face and run his hands through her midnight velvet hair.
When she spoke his name, the sound of it on her sweet lips made heat churn in his gut and wayward thoughts tumble through his head.
With no idea when or how it had happened, Grant had fallen in love with the beguiling girl.
Chapter Six
An unseasonably warm spell melted the remaining snow and dried most of the mud on the roads.
Lacy fully expected the weather to turn cold again, though, since it was still February. However, she planned to take full advantage of the mild temperatures if they lasted through the weekend and ride out to visit her family. She hadn’t returned to the cabin since the morning she left in the snowstorm and missed everyone more than she would have imagined.
Walker had been to visit her several times and she’d ridden out to see her grandmother whenever she could get away.
Concern about what her father would do or say niggled at her, but it was time to face him. Even if he refused to speak to her, she would at least try to make him understand how much she needed to prove her independence.
Busy throughout the morning at the switchboard, Millie, Susan, and Bertie debated what they wanted to eat for lunch. The discussion leaned toward soup when a mud-flecked Thomas Flyer automobile rolled to a stop outside the office.
Lacy grinned and whipped off her headset, rushing outside.
“What are you doing here?” Lacy’s Uncle Charlie swept her into a big hug while five of her cousins spilled out the car. Uncle Charlie and Aunt Mae had nine children ranging in age from ten to twenty-eight — all girls except for the oldest.
The girls gathered around her, giving her excited hugs and talking at once. Uncle Charlie lifted his hand and the chattering stopped immediately.
“I came to pick up a few supplies and the girls insisted on coming along. They wanted to bring you a few things. Walker lets us know how you’re doing.” Uncle Charlie grinned at Lacy as he lifted a box from the floor of the front seat.
Lacy: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Pendleton Petticoats Book 5) Page 7
