Lorna Seilstad

by When Love Calls

  She looked up at him. “Thank you for today. I feel like I’m on top of the world, or maybe I should say on top of your world.”

  He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. “What do you mean by that?”

  “This whole capitol is like a second home to you. You belong here.”

  “And you don’t?” He laughed. “Iowa’s capitol belongs to all of her citizens, and now you’ve certainly claimed this little spot.”

  She looked down, her lashes resting against her creamy cheeks. “Lincoln, I’m scared.”

  He took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Of what?”

  “You. Your world.” Lifting her gaze to his, she sucked in a breath. “How I feel about all this.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Isn’t there? It may not be tomorrow or even next week, but at some point you’re going to take me to some suave function, and I’ll commit a grave social error. I’ll speak what I’m thinking or I’ll do something no lady would, and you’ll see I’m right. That’s what I do. I can’t follow conventions. If there’s a rule, it’s like I have to break it.”

  “And I love that about you.” He chuckled. “Listen, society needs more young ladies who will say what they’re thinking. God gave you a mind, and you have every right to use it.”

  She started to protest, and he placed his finger against her lips. “And I think you’ll do much better at suave social functions than you think. In fact, you’re going to get a chance to prove it on Friday if you say yes.”

  Her lips turned downward. “Yes to what?”

  “Pete’s wife is hosting a dinner party for the members of the firm, and they expressly requested you attend.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded. “And if you won’t do it for me, do it for Walt.”

  “What could he possibly have to do with Mrs. Williams’s dinner party?”

  Lincoln tried to keep his voice casual, but a nervous edge crept in. “Do you remember Cedric Knox? He’s stirred up some problems with Charles, the other senior partner. Pete seems to think once Charles meets you, he’ll realize why it’s so important to continue with Walt’s case.”

  Her face paled. “He’s going to make you give up Walt’s case?”

  “Charles might encourage me to, but I’d refuse.”

  “Then what would happen?”

  Lincoln shrugged. “It won’t come that far. Once Charles meets you, he’ll be as taken with you as I am.”

  “I highly doubt that.” She rolled her eyes. “Remember, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ after this dinner.”

  “You’ll be stellar. Besides, have you forgotten what I told you in the dome?”

  A blush crept into her cheeks, followed by a smile that brought out the caramel color in her hazel eyes.

  “I meant every word.” He cupped her cheek. “You know what? I’ve never kissed anyone on top of the world.”

  “I’m sure there are rules against that kind of thing up here.”

  “You’re going to start following the rules now?”

  “I’m trying to be a proper lady.” She licked her lips. “But alas, I fear I’m hopeless.”

  Needing no further invitation, he dipped his head and kissed her thoroughly. Every sense came alive, and he pulled her closer, tangling his hand in her silky tresses.

  If anyone was hopeless, it was him. Hopelessly in love with Hannah Gregory and on top of the world.

  The letter Charlotte held would decide her future. If Fannie Farmer’s School of Cookery accepted her, her dreams would come true. If they didn’t, she’d have to reapply later or to a different school. But this was the one she most wanted to attend. If only Hannah were here to share the news.

  “If you don’t open that thing, I’m going to rip it out of your hands and do it myself.” Tessa lunged for the envelope.

  Charlotte yanked it out of her reach. “I’ll open it when I’m good and ready.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  “No, I’m not.” She held the letter to her chest.

  “Now?”

  “Not quite.”

  Tessa tapped her foot against the hardwood floor. “How about now?”

  Charlotte giggled. “Yes!” She ripped the seal and withdrew the letter inside.

  “What does it say?”

  “‘Dear Miss Gregory, we are pleased to accept you—’”

  Tessa threw her arms around Charlotte’s neck and let out a whoop. “You did it! You got in! You’re going to own your own restaurant.”

  “I’m a long way from that.” Charlotte grinned so wide it felt as if her face might split. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Go on. Read the rest.”

  “‘We are pleased to accept you into the spring class of 1909.’” Charlotte stopped. That was a year from now. What would she do for a year?

  Tessa frowned. “Not this summer?”

  Charlotte swallowed and continued, “‘As you know, we have many applicants and select only the best and brightest to participate in our school. We look forward to your attendance next spring.’”

  “Oh well.” Tessa flopped down on one of the chairs in the parlor. “I guess I can put up with you for a little while longer.”

  “At least George will be happy.” She folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. “He didn’t want me to leave this summer.”

  “Who cares what he thinks?”

  Charlotte slipped the letter in her apron pocket. “I do, Tessa, but you’re too young to understand.”

  “Really?” Tessa picked up a newspaper off the end table. “I think if a fellow really cares about you, he’ll want you to be happy doing what God made you to do.”

  “It’s not that simple, Tessa.”

  “It’s not that hard, either.”

  What did Tessa know? She’d not looked into George’s green eyes when he said how much he liked being with her. She’d not held his hand on the way home, and she’d not lain awake at night dreaming about a future with a little house and a baby to hold.

  No, Tessa was far too young to understand anything.

  A glance toward the clock tower on top of the Polk County Courthouse told Lincoln he’d arrived early enough to check out his idea. His meeting with an opposing attorney wasn’t scheduled for forty-five minutes.

  Lincoln approached the switchboard area. It had a Dutch door, so the top half of the door was open, but the bottom half barred entrance. He knocked on the doorjamb. Mrs. Beecher, a matronly woman with kind blue eyes the color of forget-me-nots, looked up at him. “Mr. Cole, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

  “Ma’am.” He placed his hands on the bottom half of the door. “I was wondering if you happen to need another switchboard operator around here.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you applying?”

  “No, ma’am.” He chuckled. “But I know of a young woman who I believe would be a good fit if you’re in need of another operator.”

  “Funny you should ask.” She adjusted her headset. “My fellow operator quit three days ago, but the telephone company has yet to fill her vacancy. I fear they’re not in any hurry. They simply don’t understand I can’t manage this exchange by myself. When am I supposed to have a break or eat my lunch?”

  His hopes nose-dived. “The telephone company chooses who works here?”

  “Of course. It’s their exchange.” She glanced at the board and saw a light lit. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.” After she connected the call, she faced him again. “It’s a handful to work alone. I do hope they’ll select a new girl soon, but it’s hard to find the right girl. She must be a quick study and able to work with judges, attorneys, and clerks, as well as the public. You professional men unnerve some of the timid girls, and sometimes the men can be quite demanding.”

  “I apologize on behalf of my part of the populace.” He flashed the woman a genuine smile, then waited while she connected another call. May
be, if he spoke to the telephone company, he could point them toward the value of placing Hannah in this position. But he’d need a valid reason to suggest her.

  Mrs. Beecher glanced at him. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “One more thing. Would it help if the young lady had knowledge of the law?”

  “Oh yes. Very much so.”

  “Thank you for the information.” He touched the brim of his hat. “I hope they find you additional help soon.”

  If he had his way, “soon” would be today. But how would Hannah feel if he interfered with her job?

  30

  God was smiling on Lincoln’s plan. He read the gold-lettered name on the door again and smiled. Iowa Telephone Company’s vice president, Victor Bradford, had attended Drake College with him. They’d been on the same rowing team. From the time he’d looked up the information back in his office, he’d taken this as a good sign.

  He patted his pocket, armed with Vic’s favorite item, and entered the office. Vic’s stenographer took his name. A few minutes later, he entered his alum’s office and shook the man’s hand.

  “Linc, it’s been too long.” Vic motioned to a chair. “I hope you’re not here for legal reasons?”

  “No, not at all.” He sat down in the leather chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

  Vic nodded. “Anything for the man who led our rowing team to victory.”

  “This is concerning the switchboard operator’s vacancy at the courthouse.”

  “Linc, is that all? I’ll have that filled by day’s end.”

  “You’ve already selected the new Hello Girl?”

  “Not actually.” Vic sighed. “I have a feeling you have a suggestion.”

  “I do. She’s intelligent, a quick learner, not afraid of judges and attorneys.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket. “And best of all, she’s had training in law school at Drake.”

  “You must be speaking of Miss Gregory.” His old friend eyed the cigar.

  “I am.”

  Lincoln offered Vic the smoke. He took it and sniffed his prize. “She’s not had the best success following the rules here, but that might be an ideal position for her. Let me send for her supervisor and see what she thinks.”

  “Former supervisor?” Lincoln took a deep breath. “I believe she’s been temporarily reassigned.”

  “Why, yes, she has.” Vic scowled. He went to his door and summoned the supervisor. When he returned, he sat on the corner of his desk. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been considering what to do with Miss Gregory next. The girl she was covering for is set to return tomorrow, and I’m not sure Miss Frogge wants her back.”

  Releasing a slow breath, Lincoln fought the urge to defend Hannah. But if Vic intended to put her with Miss Frogge again, Hannah was doomed.

  “Linc, you seem to know a great deal about Miss Gregory.” Vic adjusted his tie. “You know, 90 percent of the telephone girls we have today will be gone in three years because they’ve chosen to marry. You aren’t planning to steal one of my Hello Girls, are you?”

  A knock at the door came before Lincoln had the chance to answer.

  When the woman entered the room, Lincoln had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from laughing at Hannah’s accurate description of the woman with the bulging eyes. He half expected Miss Frogge’s tongue to dart out and snatch the fly buzzing about the room.

  She stood to the side of Vic’s desk and gave the two men a brief nod. “Mr. Bradford, you sent for me.”

  “Yes, I did.” He leaned forward. “It’s come time for me to reassign Miss Gregory.”

  The woman’s nose wrinkled slightly.

  “I have two choices. Either I can return her to her previous post under your direction, or I can reassign her to work at the county courthouse’s exchange. Which do you think best suits her?”

  “Sir, Miss Gregory is indeed a quick learner. I’ve not seen anyone catch on as quickly.” She paused and cleared her throat. “However, I believe it would be in the Iowa Telephone Company’s best interest to send her to the courthouse. But may I suggest Mrs. Beecher be made aware of Miss Gregory’s lack of decorum and her propensity for rule breaking? In a place such as the courthouse, adherence to the rules is vital. She’ll require close supervision.”

  “Thank you, Miss Frogge. That’s an excellent point.” He nodded his dismissal. “You may go.”

  Lincoln waited until the woman departed before he met Vic’s gaze. “Well?”

  Vic rubbed his chin. “We’ll give her a try at the courthouse. Just don’t marry her and steal her away.”

  A laugh bubbled in Lincoln’s chest. “I’m not making any promises.”

  As Hannah hopped on the streetcar, her temples throbbed. Running late always unnerved her. She dropped in her token and claimed a seat toward the back. Most of the time, she walked the blocks from her home to the telephone company to save money, but today was different. She had been doing research at the state law library and had lost track of time. The only way she could possibly arrive on time was to take the streetcar.

  She glanced behind her and saw a young man on a bicycle reach his hand out and clamp on to the bumper of the streetcar. The newspapers had contained several recent articles disapproving of the dangerous activity, but she could understand why a cyclist would “hitch a ride.” If she were in their place, she’d probably do the same.

  The lady across the aisle gasped when she spotted the young man and proceeded to tell the driver. But it was too late. The streetcar rounded the corner and the bicyclist safely road away, despite all the newspapers’ dire predictions. Hannah shook her head. So many unnecessary rules. So many people intent on rule keeping.

  Guilt tugged at her. Why was she being so unkind? Her mother would be ashamed. She’d often reminded her that God made the rule keepers just like he made the rule breakers. “Your independent spirit can be a blessing or a curse,” her mother had said. “And so can being a rule keeper. Each can be used to God’s glory, and each needs the other. God is perfect in both justice and mercy. We, my dear, are not.”

  When the streetcar reached her block, she made her way down the aisle and stepped off. Hiking up her skirt, she hurried up the stairs and inside the telephone company.

  “Hold the elevator, please!” She pressed a hand to her hat and stepped as fast as she dared. Once inside, she heaved a sigh. “Thank you.”

  After a quick straightening of her hat, she glanced around at her fellow operators. One frowned at her.

  “Sorry,” Hannah said. “I don’t want to be late.”

  “Then maybe you should start earlier so you don’t make the rest of us late.”

  To Hannah’s great relief, the elevator stopped and the operator slid the cage back. She hurried off.

  Smack into a man’s solid chest.

  The familiar scent of Diamond C soap touched her, and she looked up.

  “Hello, Hannah.”

  “Lincoln, what are you doing here?”

  He gave her a lilting grin, but no answer.

  Mr. Bradford stepped from behind Lincoln. “Miss Gregory, there you are. May I see you for a moment?” He turned to Lincoln. “And Linc, let’s get together soon.”

  “Sounds good, Vic.” He shook her boss’s hand. “And thanks.” He nodded to Hannah and entered the elevator.

  Hannah gaped at him as the elevator operator drew the cage door closed.

  “Miss Gregory?”

  Oh dear, what had Lincoln done?

  Leaning against the fender of his Reo, Lincoln waited. He kept an eye on the front door of the tall brick building. Hannah should get her great news and be out in a few minutes.

  He chuckled as he remembered Miss Frogge’s reaction to the idea of Hannah’s return. Had Hannah truly given the woman that much grief? He found it hard to believe, as Hannah had been honest about her indiscretions with him. On the way back from the state capitol the other day, they’d laughed together abo
ut the lullaby, the invalid, and the mix-up with the undertaker. She stopped short when he asked her what finally got her moved to the evening shift, and her face took on a most becoming hue of pink.

  A sparrow swooped through the air, and Lincoln smiled. How like a bird his Hannah was—God’s most beautiful creation. No wonder she liked the idea of flying. Her mere presence brought a song to his day, and the last place she belonged was in this cage.

  She appeared at the top of the building’s stairs, and his chest warmed. Most of the women who worked in the city wore similar white shirtwaists and black skirts, but somehow they looked so much better on Hannah. Catching sight of him, she tipped her head, and her ribbon tails fluttered in the wind. He waved. Maybe they could go get her sisters and all go out for dinner tonight to celebrate the new position.

  Striding toward him, she appeared upset. His chest clenched. Had things not gone as he thought they would? Surely Vic didn’t let her go.

  She jammed her fists onto her narrow hips. “Lincoln Cole, why did you think I needed you to interfere with my job?”

  31

  “I—I—just wanted to help,” Lincoln sputtered. Good grief. What was she doing to him? He hadn’t jumbled his words since his first court trial. “I heard about the opening at the courthouse and knew you’d be a perfect fit, so I came here to suggest it.”

  He glanced around the telephone company and saw a few onlookers. Great. An audience.

  “If”—she jabbed her finger at his chest—“you thought I was such a ‘perfect fit,’ why did you think you needed to come throw your college chum weight around?” She poked his chest again. “If I was such a ‘perfect fit,’ why didn’t you let me go to Mr. Bradford myself and inquire about the position?”

  His back stiffened and his jaw ticked. Irritation burred under his skin. She should be lavishing appreciation on him, not pecking at him. “I got you out of that horrendous evening shift. I thought you’d be pleased. Grateful, even.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” She turned from him, arms crossed over her chest.

  Lincoln rubbed his neck, tempering his building anger. This was not going well. Should he apologize? But for what? He hadn’t done anything wrong.