Any interest on her part would vanish the moment she discovered his father was buying her family’s shop. The points he’d gained by helping her sister with her rambunctious boy would vanish. Sam found himself in a pinch. Father would never allow a dress shop next door to Hutton’s. He would raze the building and extend the department store. If Sam hoped to win Father’s confidence, he had to facilitate the purchase. But what would happen to Ruth?
He mopped his brow. All around him, women fanned themselves and men undid the buttons on their jackets, but his discomfort came more from dismay than the heat. Four women and one sick father would soon lose their livelihood, thanks to his insistence the company open a store in Pearlman.
It’s not my problem. He’d repeated those words often the past two days, but it sounded even less convincing in church.
Sam was never so happy to rise for a benediction. He’d barely heard a word of the sermon. Something about doing unto others. Standard material. The moment the benediction ended, the congregation headed for the doors, where the minister greeted them before they scattered for the shade. Sam waited in line behind Ruth and her older sister, exuberant toddler still in hand.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Mrs. Beatrice Kensington sighed as she reached for her son. “I can take him from here.”
She’d have a struggle. The boy had found his legs and wanted to run.
“Let’s wait until we’re outside.” Sam kept hold of the squirming toddler’s hand. “I don’t mind.”
Truly he didn’t, for it kept him close to Ruth and her family. The sisters did resemble one another, but each had somewhat different features. Most people would consider Beatrice the beauty of the family, but Sam preferred Ruth’s paler blue eyes and fairer complexion. Her features were also finer, more delicate. Her skin looked soft as silk.
Jen, on the other hand, was dark and tall. The family resemblance could be found in her facial features, though her eyes bordered on hazel, as if all the colors on the palette had been thrown together. Minnie was the shortest, her hair a muddy-blond, almost brown, but her eyes matched those of her oldest sister.
“New in town?” The minister’s question pulled Sam from his assessment of the sisters.
Beatrice took her son, allowing Sam the opportunity to shake Pastor Gabe’s hand.
“Just arrived on Friday.” Sam was surprised by the minister’s strong grip.
“Thought I saw you the other day,” the minister said. “You’re working on the new store, right? Peter Simmons mentioned you had him do some carpentry for you.”
Ruth’s head turned at those words, her approval clear.
Sam, on the other hand, suspected the minister really wanted to know what type of store Sam was opening. He tried to relax his shoulders. The questions would get more and more probing by the day, and people would expect answers. He shouldn’t have come to church today. He shouldn’t have agreed to spend any time at all with the townsfolk. In the past he’d maintained his distance until after the grand opening. But it was too late now. He’d introduced himself to Ruth and her family, and there was no going back.
He concentrated on the minister and forced what he hoped was a casual smile. “Peter does fine work for someone his age. I was quite impressed.”
The minister proved just as unshakable. “He certainly has God-given talent and the willingness to share. That’s what we’re all about here. Sharing.”
The emphasis wasn’t lost on Sam. Pastor Gabe expected open communication and honesty. Ruth expected the same. Both hung on Sam’s response.
He used his smile to deflect the question. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”
“Neither would I.” The minister’s grin told Sam he understood the bluff, but wasn’t calling him on it this time. “Let me add my welcome to the others. Staying long?”
“Can’t say yet.” That was true. After the grand opening, he would probably go to another location. “I hope it’ll be a while.” He was surprised to find that was also true. In just two days, Pearlman’s tidy homes and friendly folk had captivated him.
“If you need anything while you’re here, just ask,” Pastor Gabe said.
“Thank you, but I can’t see what I’d need.”
“The offer’s open. I know pretty much everyone in town. We might be small, but we have big hearts.”
That sounded like a great advertising slogan. Sam mentally tested it for his store but dismissed the idea. In a town the size of Pearlman, Hutton’s was anything but small. When finished, it would be the largest retail establishment in town. Only the airplane-engine factory covered more square footage.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, glad to escape into the fresh air.
Beatrice followed. “Thank you again for your help.”
“My pleasure,” he said, though an hour tending the boy had exhausted him more than a full day of work.
Ruth, still holding Beatrice’s little girl, joined them in the shade of a large maple. “We’re having a picnic this afternoon. In the park. You should join us, Beattie. The children would love it. Maybe Blake would come, too.” She glanced toward Sam. “Mr. Roth agreed to join us. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“The more the merrier,” Sam dutifully replied, though the presence of Beatrice’s family would put a crimp in talking to Ruth.
“I—I don’t think so.” Beatrice’s gaze flicked to the street. “We’re busy.”
That sounded like an excuse, but Ruth didn’t press the point. “Maybe next time.”
“Maybe.” Beatrice hurried toward a sleek black Cadillac that had just pulled to a stop. She opened the rear door and lifted the children inside.
What a cad of a driver! A hired man ought to get out of the vehicle and assist the lady.
Sam started forward until he noticed that the dark-haired man behind the wheel sported a fashionable suit. The little girl called him “Daddy.” That cad was Beatrice’s husband. Sam recognized the distracted self-absorption of careless pleasure-seekers, whose quest for self-indulgence knew no limits because they’d been born privileged. Money bought them out of scrapes. Money insulated them from recrimination. Sam’s wife had been one of that set, and, to some extent, so had he. But she had paid the price for her sins, while he lived to regret his every day.
The driver leaned across to open the passenger door. Beatrice grabbed her expensive beaded bag off the fender and climbed in. Her diamond ring flashed in the sun, and the truth finally sank in. Beatrice had married into money.
The Foxes would not lose their shop. Beatrice could bail them out.
Chapter Five
Ruth selected the plainest dress in her closet. The yellowish-beige calico print drained the color from her complexion. Sam would never notice her in this dress. His gaze would settle instead on Jen.
By the time Ruth descended the stairs, Jen had vanished, in spite of her promise to pack the picnic basket.
“Where did your sister go?” Ruth asked Minnie, who was plunking out a melody on the old piano.
“To the airfield.” Minnie pounded on the middle C key, which stuck in humid weather. “Why can’t we get this fixed?”
“For the same reason we didn’t buy new dresses this year. Daddy’s treatment.”
Minnie’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry for complaining. It’s just that I get so tired of being poor.”
Ruth hugged her baby sister from behind. “Sometimes I get blue, too. Just remember how rich we are in each other.”
“I know, but sometimes I wish I could have something new.”
Ruth suspected this had to do with Minnie’s hope that Reggie would notice her. “I do, too. If I remember right, I have some scraps of brocade that would make a nice little handbag.”
“No, thank you.” Minnie pulled up the stuck key and pushed i
t down again, where it remained. “This is impossible. I can’t play a thing.”
“Would it help if I sang the note for you?”
“No.” Minnie closed the music book. “You get ready for the picnic. Wear something pretty. It’s your big chance, after all.” She managed half a smile.
The poor girl was definitely pining for Reggie. It would do no good to reveal that Ruth intended this afternoon to be Jen’s big chance, but it wouldn’t happen if her sister didn’t get home soon. “Did Jen say when she’d be back?”
“By one-thirty.”
That didn’t leave enough time to prepare the food for the picnic. Ruth blew out a sigh of frustration. That was Jen. Always racing on to the next exciting thing and forgetting her responsibilities at home.
Ruth headed for the kitchen and spent the next hour fashioning a respectable picnic lunch from leftovers and Mother’s canned peaches and pickled beets. She hoped Sam wasn’t famished, or there wouldn’t be enough to go around.
After packing everything into the basket, she got a niggling feeling that she was forgetting something. One by one she checked off the contents. Lemonade, sandwiches, silverware, napkins, cups...
“Can I at least buy some new sheet music?” Minnie called from the living room.
The mercantile might extend credit for food but not for luxuries. “We haven’t the money.”
Then she remembered what she’d forgotten. Sam’s catalogs. She fetched them from her dresser and tucked them into the side of the basket. As a second thought, she covered them with a napkin. If Minnie saw these lavish catalogs, she would pester Ruth for a new dress.
She’d just finished laying the blanket on top of the basket when Jen bounded through the kitchen door. Ruth glanced at the clock. One-forty.
“You’re late.”
Jen wrinkled her nose. “You’re wearing that dress?”
Ruth smoothed the beige calico skirt. “It’s light and comfortable.”
“It’s ugly and old-fashioned. Sam will never be attracted to you in that.”
That was the point. “Appearance shouldn’t matter.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Most men aren’t nearly that high-minded. Put on something else. Even your gardening dress is prettier than that.”
Ruth hefted the basket off the table. “There’s no time. It’ll take us twenty minutes to walk to the park. If we want to get there before Sam, we have to leave now.”
Jen groaned. “At least wear a pretty hat.”
Ruth grabbed her straw garden hat with the wide brim. “Minnie, let’s go,” she called out. “Jen, could you fetch two fishing poles from the shed?”
“Why?”
“In case Mr. Roth would like to fish.”
“But you don’t—” Jen’s eyes widened. “Ooooh. That’s the point.” She grinned. “You’re craftier than I thought.”
“I am no such thing.”
Jen’s Cheshire-cat grin only broadened. “I’ll fetch the poles and meet you in the alley.”
Moments later, Ruth led her sisters down Main Street. The park was several blocks away, and with the heavy basket, she had to walk slowly and take many breaks. No breeze had come up yet, and the heat felt oppressive, so she kept to the shaded side of the street.
Half the town had decided to go to the park. The tables in the pavilion were already taken, and a game of baseball commandeered much of the open area. Dogs ran after balls and barked excitedly. Children giggled and squealed in games of tag or ring-around-the-rosy. Ruth had promised Sam that he could find them near the pavilion, so she picked a spot in front of the building.
“It’s in the sun,” Minnie complained. “We’ll die of heat.”
“You’ll be fine.” Ruth set down the basket and pulled off the blanket.
Jen leaned the poles against a tall oak and helped her spread the blanket. In an hour or so, the sun’s travels would bring the shade away from the pavilion and over them. As Ruth smoothed out the blanket, she watched for Sam. Rather than help, Minnie wandered off looking for Reggie. At first Ruth was irritated, but then she realized this could work to her advantage. Once Sam arrived, she’d excuse herself to find Minnie and suggest Jen take Sam fishing.
“He likes you,” Jen said as they settled on the blanket.
Ruth pushed Sam’s catalogs into the bottom of the picnic basket and took out the napkins rather than deal with her sister’s pointed remark.
Jen didn’t give up. “I saw the way he maneuvered into Beattie’s pew so he could sit with you.”
“He was just being helpful.”
“What bachelor volunteers to watch a toddler? Honestly, you’re so blind sometimes.”
Ruth flinched. It wasn’t so much that she was blind to Sam’s attentions, but rather she preferred he direct them toward Jen. Her sister could dazzle a man like Sam, could endlessly entertain him with her crazy ideas and impulsive behavior. Ruth, on the other hand, would soon bore him.
She moved the jar of pickled beets into the shadow of the basket. “You might call it ‘blind.’ I call it ‘realistic.’” She lined up the plates and placed one knife, one fork and one spoon on each, taking care that the knife blade was turned inward.
“Realistic?” Jen snorted. “How dull.”
Ruth choked back a sudden ache. Was she dull? Doomed to a safe life without excitement? Realism guarded against pain. In exchange it demanded the surrender of any chance at limitless joy.
“I’m not like you and Minnie.” Ruth fetched stones to put on each corner of the blanket in case a breeze arose. “I’m a homebody. I prefer a simple life. I like daily routine. Our family is my life.”
“Is that all?” Jen leaned close. “You must want romance. Everyone does.”
Ruth couldn’t admit the ache deep in her heart. “I’ve accepted my place. The dress shop and the family are enough for me.”
Jen handed her a stone. “You’re settling.”
“Maybe I want to settle.” She looked straight into her sister’s eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Find a man you adore, one who loves you with all his heart, and marry him.”
Jen’s eyes twinkled. “Speaking of adoring men, yours is almost here.”
Something between panic and delight jolted Ruth. At the sight of him, she instinctively reached up to check her hair and in the process knocked off her wide-brimmed straw hat. My, Sam was handsome! She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He strode toward her with the casual ease of a man who knew his place in the world. In his hands he carried a small carton tied with string that could have come from only the bakery. And he was within earshot. How much of her conversation had he overheard?
Her nerves fluttered as she smoothed her ragged old dress. Maybe she should have worn something better.
Sam smiled at her and held out the carton. “For you.”
“You didn’t need to bring anything.” Though her knees quaked, she managed to get out the words.
He handed her the carton. “Of course I did.”
His smile sent warmth clear to her toes, but when he bent and retrieved her hat, she nearly stopped breathing.
“I believe you lost this.” He held out the hat.
“Yes. Thank you.” Not one intelligent word remained in her head. She took the hat with her free hand. Now what? Should she set down the cake? Put on her hat? Or invite him to sit?
Pastor Gabe’s wife had noticed Sam’s arrival and was whispering something to her sister-in-law, who’d joined them with her husband for what looked to be a family picnic. The Grattans watched from a table in the pavilion. No doubt they expected a man like Sam to gravitate toward them, not one of the town’s poorer citizens.
Though the corner of Sam’s mouth lifted in a half smile, his gaze took in her dowdy dress. Jen was right. Sam, who loved color, could find nothing appealin
g in an old beige dress and straw hat. That was precisely why she’d worn it, so why the regret?
“Would you like to walk before dinner?” Sam held out his hand to her, not Jen.
Ruth wasn’t sure she could walk one step. He stood near, so close that his bergamot scent curled around her in a welcoming embrace. Logic dictated he could not possibly be interested in a dull wallflower with glasses, yet he’d asked her to join him.
Though her pulse raced, her practical side urged her to refuse. This course would lead to only humiliation and heartbreak. Yet as he took the carton from her hand and gave it to Jen, she wanted to believe it was possible for a gallant swan to love an ugly old goose in real life as well as the storybooks.
“I’d love to see the river, and I can think of no one better to show me.” Sam held out his arm. “Your sister won’t mind watching over the picnic for a few minutes.”
Though Jen usually balked at anyone assuming she would do something, this time she grinned and waved them on. “Go. I have things under control here.”
Ruth’s heart fluttered wildly. Sam wanted to walk with her, just her, along the river. She glanced at Eloise Grattan and her mother. They’d be so envious, perhaps even incredulous. The most handsome man to set foot in Pearlman wanted to stroll on the river path with Ruth Fox. In full public view.
The path sloped downward through the woods. Directly ahead, a wooden platform had been constructed to provide a view of the river and the pond upstream. Already several rowboats dotted the expanse. He led her onto the overlook. A family crowded the opposite side, the little girl pointing excitedly to a great blue heron stalking through the shallows downriver. Sam paused in the shade of a tall maple. From there, they could admire the pond, where sunlight sparkled off the water like a thousand diamonds.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said softly. The colors of the river—from sapphire to emerald—never failed to inspire gratitude for God’s creation.
Sam settled along the railing beside her. “It is. Almost as pretty as you.”
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