by Annie Boone
In his excitement to see Miss Fletcher, Jude barely slept a wink, and was up before the sun began to peek over the horizon. The sky was hazy and had a peachy glow by the time he had breakfasted and saddled up Caesar. As he rode down the mountain and made his way onto the road to Fort Worth, he whistled, occasionally touching his hand to the pocket where Miss Fletcher’s letter was held, close to his heart.
Chapter Eleven
The closer he drew to Fort Worth, the more people he saw on the road. Carriages and buggies, gigs and traps hurried past him. He and Caesar walked slowly, not in any hurry to be anywhere, unlike these busy city-folk.
He doubted that Miss Fletcher would welcome visitors before eleven. He remembered his mother had certainly frowned upon early callers, and so he made his way to the main street so he could purchase the items he needed first.
In the mercantile, Jude noted the good quality of the hardware items displayed there. He made his way to the counter where a portly man with a red face stood joking with a customer. Jude waited patiently, mentally listing a number of items he believed that would be of use for him to stock for the cowboys and trappers that might stop by his shack.
“How can I help you, sir?” the storekeeper asked when it was Jude’s turn to be served.
“Well, I am hoping we might be able to help each other.” Jude held his shoulders back and nodded with a quick smile. “I run a waystation for herders and trappers up in the mountains. They often need new equipment, and I am thinking of stocking some things they might want. I wondered if, perhaps, you might be interested in stocking a small outpost of your store up there, with me in charge of it. I could take just a small cut of the profits before sending the rest to you.”
“Son, I don’t know you, or anything about you. Why should I give you my goods so you can disappear off in the woods? If I do that, I’ll probably never hear from you again.”
“I’m a man of my word, sir, and I’d never do such a thing. But, I do get your point that you don’t know me. Why don’t we start with me purchasing a first couple of orders? We can get to know one another. You’ll learn that I always pay my bills on time, I’ll learn that you always supply what I need,” Jude said amiably.
“I suppose you’d want what you need at a discount?” the man asked, his tone sarcastic.
“Nope.” Jude raised his hand and shook his head. Since the man had already judged him as being someone that he couldn’t trust, he had to change his mind. “Though a discount would be right kindly of you, I’ll pay the going rate. I’m looking to show you can trust me.”
“Then you’re a fool. You won’t get any customers if you overcharge a man for such simple things when he’s in need.”
Jude laughed at the incredulity of the man He was drawing conclusions about Jude’s plan based on his assumption of Jude’s poor character. He quickly wondered if he could find an alternative place to supply his needs, but put that thought away almost as fast as it came. This store had the best prices in town with the best items.
Jude didn’t want to have to sacrifice on price or quality. This had been a new idea he’d had, building on his vision for his stop over place for cowboys. He wanted those who came by his place to know they could rely on both Jude and any items he might sell them.
“You’ve not seen where I live,” he said, seeing that the shopkeeper was looking even more puzzled that he should be laughing. “Up on a lonely ridge, miles from anywhere, a man would pay double the amount he’ll pay in town, maybe even more, for something he needs right there and then.”
The man looked at Jude through narrowed eyes. “Doesn’t seem Christian to me, charging more just because you can.”
“Ah, Mr. Rigsby is not a Christian,” a lilting voice said from behind them. Jude turned to see the smiling face of Miss Fletcher.
“Miss Ellie,” the storekeeper said. “How are you today, and how’s your father?”
“We are both well, thank you for asking, Mr. Wilson,” Miss Fletcher said.
“You know this gentleman?” Mr. Wilson nodded toward Jude with a scowl.
“We’ve met,” Miss Fletcher said, with a twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes. Jude could hardly believe that she was here, and that she looked so pleased to see him. “He will be my neighbor very soon.”
“And I know that all of Springville is very happy about it,” Jude said, knowing it to be true, though it was especially so of himself.
“Should I trust him? He has some funny ideas.”
“Ah, that he most certainly does,” Miss Fletcher said. “But, yes, I believe him to be a man of his word.”
Jude was touched by her belief in him. She barely knew him, yet was happy to advocate on his behalf. She truly was a beacon of goodness in what could be a terribly unkind and unpleasant world. If only more people were like her, then war and poverty might be banished forever.
“It isn’t that I wish to overcharge,” Jude said, trying to explain his motivations to the storekeeper. “Nor is it that I wish to cheat any man of anything, whatever his circumstances. It’s simply that it costs me money and time to supply such items. I am not running a charity after all. If I have to purchase an item at the price you charge here, then I need to make some small profit, as you do.”
“Indeed, it is an important service to the men who work in those hills, and Mr. Rigsby also needs to have money to eat and keep a roof over his own head,” Miss Fletcher said. “Now, I have much to do today, so if you two gentlemen insist upon arguing amongst yourselves, might I please purchase a rolling pin so I might return home?”
“I’m sorry we’re holding you up, Miss Ellie.” He looked up at the shop keeper with a nod. “Mr. Wilson, if you’ll add that rolling pin to my order, I’ll pay for the things I have here and be on my way.”
Chapter Twelve
“You didn’t have to do that,” Ellie said, looking at her new rolling pin as they left the store together. She slipped her arm through Jude’s as they walked along the street.
“I think I did. I’m quite grateful to you for your kind words about my character. I felt a strange need to redeem myself in the eyes of that man,” Jude admitted. “I must say I don’t think I would have even gotten a smile out of him if not for you.”
Ellie was surprised at how happy he seemed to be this morning. He was smiling now and had even laughed in the store. After their initial meeting, she’d wondered if he even knew how. He looked younger, more relaxed, and content. She decided it suited him to be happy.
“As long as you know your own motivations, the opinion of others means little,” she said. “It can be so easy to misconstrue another’s meaning after all.”
They fell silent for a few moments, but it was not unpleasant. She pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. She bit her bottom lip for a moment as she was considering the scene from the mercantile. She believed Mr. Wilson had been won over, but Jude seemed to think otherwise. Certainly, time would tell about that.
The street was not quiet, and more than once someone rushing past them caused her to have to move closer to Jude. His body was solid, and she felt his heat every time she stepped close. Her heart was already picking up pace a bit.
When a carriage drove past, causing a splash from a large puddle, he moved to shield her, and she found herself with her head pressed up against his chest. He smelled of soap and horses, and something spicy she couldn’t put her finger on. It was delicious, and she startled herself by thinking how nice it would be to snuggle up against him and forget the rest of the world. The mere thought of his arms around her made the warmth rise in her cheeks.
“Are you quite all right?” He pushed her gently away from him boldly looking into her eyes.
“I am, and even if I had been splashed, it is only water. I’m sure I would have survived to tell the tale.” She laughed, feeling utterly happy and content.
This meeting was so different from their last one. Mr. Rigsby seemed so at ease, so very much himself. It was as if, by revealing some o
f themselves in their letters, that they had passed through that awkward phase of getting to know each other. They’d both confessed to having thoughts they would never have let another soul know they possessed, and in so doing had bypassed the need for small talk and trying to impress one another that was so much a part of social etiquette.
“I am sure you would, but I am sure that your father would be most disgruntled if you were to return home with a non-believer and a ruined gown,” he teased.
“I think I might not inform him of the former, at least until he knows you a little better,” Ellie said, thoughtfully.
“Is that wise?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble. If your father would think I’m not suitable company for you, would be best to know that from the start. I’m coming to care for you, rather more than I had expected to ever care for anyone, really. I’d hate to make things difficult for you at home.”
Ellie looked away and her cheeks colored quickly.
“I’m sorry, Miss Ellie. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. I realize my thoughts should have remained in my head. Please don’t let me make you uncomfortable.”
Ellie raised her hand and shook her head. “My daddy may be a preacher, but he isn’t one to judge. He leaves that tough job to the Good Lord. He has many friends who are not men of faith and they discuss all manner of things. My father prays for them to come to faith and he talks openly about that with them. If you’re comfortable knowing that one day my father will bring up the discussion, then it will not be a problem, I am quite sure of it.”
Mr. Rigsby’s expression told Ellie that he was not so sure, but he said no more. Ellie couldn’t help but fret a little as they made their way through the bustling streets of Fort Worth to her door. What if Daddy didn’t approve of her growing friendship with Jude? Would her father stop her from spending time with him? She wasn’t sure she could bear to be parted from Jude now.
Even though they still barely knew one another, there was a bond between them that she simply couldn’t explain. It was a bond she did not wish to break.
Jude whistled softly as they reached the door of the smart townhouse she shared with Daddy. “Preaching must pay well,” he said, stepping back to look up at it. Suddenly his face dropped, and he looked a little ashamed, as though he hadn’t meant to utter such a thought out loud. “I am truly sorry,” he added. “That was a rude comment, and it’s certainly none of my business.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, tucking her arm back into his and leading him up the stairs. “My mama came from a wealthy family and this was her inheritance when Grandpa and Grandmama died. More often than not, it’s full of all manner of folk that are in need of a roof over their head.”
“He sounds like a good man. I apologize for jumping to conclusions.” Jude smiled then sighed.
“He is a good man,” Ellie assured him. “And he will like you.”
Entering into the grand hallway, Ellie tried to see her home through Mr. Rigsby’s eyes. She supposed it must seem terribly grand. But, she knew that as soon as he poked his head round even one of the doors, he would easily see that what may once have been the very height of Texas fashion was now run down and set up to serve those in need.
“Miss Ellie,” Janie, the maid, said as she hurried out of what had once been the grand dining room. “Your father has had to go to Springville to deal with a situation with the building works. He said he won’t be back for supper and may even stay over.”
Ellie sighed. She had so wanted to introduce her father to Mr. Rigsby. But, she would have to be patient. They would meet soon enough, after all in just two weeks time, they would be neighbors, of sorts.
“How is Mrs. Gardner?” Ellie asked.
“Bless her, she’s quite bright this morning,” Janie said. “I took her up some breakfast, and she actually ate most of it. I took that to be a good sign, and her fever definitely seems to have passed, at last.”
Mr. Rigsby gave Ellie a questioning look. “Mrs. Gardner is our neighbor. She fell ill with a terrible fever and the doctors were quite unsure as to what could be done to help her. Daddy insisted that she come and stay here with us until she was well. Dear Janie and I have been nursing her day and night. For a long time, I truly thought she would not make it through.”
“Did she have nobody else?” Mr. Rigsby asked.
“No, poor dear. Her husband died from pneumonia last year, and they lost all of their babies. The oldest one made it to five years old. Poor Mrs. Gardner was utterly bereft when she lost him.”
“That must have been very hard to bear, indeed,” Mr. Rigsby agreed. He fell silent, and Ellie was sure she could see tears glistening in his eyes, though he did not shed them. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was something in Mrs. Gardner’s story that was familiar to him. He seemed to be so very touched by the tale.
She led him into the kitchen. Cook was bustling around the stove, removing a perfectly risen sponge from the oven. “Keep your mitts off it until it is cool,” she warned Ellie. “I know what you are like.”
“I used to sneak into the kitchen and help myself to all the sweets just after my Mama died,” she explained to Mr. Rigsby.
“I think such a thing can be forgiven under the circumstances,” he said. “You must miss her terribly.”
“Every single day,” Ellie admitted. “But, there is always something to keep me busy.”
“Can I get you both some tea?” Cook asked.
“I should really be on my way,” Mr. Rigsby said, though he looked more than a little unhappy to do so.
“Do you have to go?” Ellie asked. “I could use your strength to move some packing crates down from upstairs. Um, if it’s not too much trouble, of course. Do you mind?”
Mr. Rigsby looked up at her and grinned, as if he was glad she’d found a reason why he might be there. She wondered if he had been concerned about the impropriety of her being alone in the house with him. It was rather sweet of him if he had. She had no fear of what others thought of her honor. She knew that she would do nothing to jeopardize it, and what others thought they knew or perceived truly meant little to her. But, that Mr. Rigsby was the type to be concerned on her behalf was yet another confirmation of his goodness.
Dragging him by the hand up the winding staircase, she finally stopped at a small door, flinging it wide to reveal a smaller, straight staircase that led up to the attic. “There are a number of large crates up there, that I need down here so I might pack up our belongings,” she said, offering him a lamp. He smiled at her, and her insides turned as soft and spongy as Cook’s finest cakes.
“At your command,” he said, and ran up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
With him gone, Ellie went into the bedroom across the hall. Mrs. Gardner was propped up in the bed, against a mountain of pillows. Her skin had become sallow over the weeks of her illness, but Ellie was sure that she could see a hint of color beginning to return. The older woman was asleep, so she tucked the blankets around her tightly, pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead, and left the room.
Hearing a loud clattering overhead, she ran up the stairs to the attic. Mr. Rigsby was cursing, surrounded by a cloud of dust and a pile of old clothes and books. “You should have told me they are already full,” he said.
“I didn’t know,” Ellie protested. “Papa just told me they were up here and we could use them to take our things.”
Mr. Rigsby rubbed at his shins. “I think I’ll live,” he said, when he saw the concern in her eyes. “I’ve had much nastier things land on me. But, you’ll need to go through everything, to see if there are things you want to keep.”
Ellie knelt down, not even thinking about whether she would get her dress soiled by the dust. She picked up a gown and fingered the elaborate beading on the bodice. “This was Mama’s,” she said softly. “I didn’t know Daddy had kept all her things.”
Mr. Rigsby knelt down beside her, so close that their knees and
elbows almost touched. They began to sort the things into piles of clothing, Ellie dictating which should be kept as a keepsake of her Mama, and which could be passed on, or thrown away.
Every now and again, their hands would bump against one another and Ellie shivered at the sensation that cascaded throughout her entire body with each inadvertent brush. He seemed utterly unaware of the way in which him being so close was affecting her, yet he had confessed in his letters that she filled his thoughts. She found it hard to reconcile this.
But, even she had to admit that her emotions were heightened, they were after all going through the personal effects of her dearly beloved Mama. Surely he was simply trying to be respectful, to hide any desire or feelings he might have for her that would be disrespectful in this situation?
Then suddenly, he stood up, brushed the dust off his pants and coughed. “I should be going,” he declared and hurried down the stairs.
Ellie was surprised, and it took her a moment or two to realize that he was not coming back. She leapt to her feet and raced down the stairs after him and almost cried when he looked up at her from the front door as she rushed onto the second floor landing. He waved, but then hurried out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Sinking onto the top stair, she wondered what had happened to make him depart so abruptly, fearing that she had somehow upset him, or made him feel unbearably uncomfortable. She wished he would come back, to explain so she might apologize for her folly, whatever it had been.
Sadly, she trudged back up to the attic, and hugging her Mama’s gown to her, she sobbed, Unsure of whether she was crying because she missed her, or because she wished Mr. Rigsby had not hurried out of her life with no explanation, she wiped her tears away. Feeling empty and alone, she continued sorting through her mother’s things.
