“When you had no business being in her room in the first place. What sort of man are you?”
“A man looking for his watch,” he said dryly. “And I found it. In her dresser. Would I have ever gotten it back if I hadn’t come looking for it?” He addressed his question to Betsy.
Slowly, wearily, she stood up and snatched her bag and reticule from the bed. “Yes. I planned to give it to you tomorrow. But when I saw you had returned, I came upstairs to retrieve it.”
She walked to the door and met him at the threshold. They stood so close, she could feel the warmth coming from him. Sorrow seeped from every ounce of her body. How could the man she had grown to love believe such terrible things of her?
“Betsy, where are you going?” Mrs. Fields asked.
“Mrs. Avery has said I can stay there. I’ll do that tonight. Tomorrow I’ll go back to Miss Annie, hat in hand. She hasn’t found anyone yet.”
“Oh, Betsy, don’t go. Stuart is sorry.”
Betsy looked up into Stuart’s brown eyes. He did indeed look as though he regretted being so hasty. But it was too late.
“Good-bye. Thank you both for everything you’ve done for me.”
Without another word, she squared her shoulders, trying to find an ounce of dignity. She descended the steps and found her coat and scarf where she’d left them hanging from the hook by the door.
“Betsy, wait.”
“No.”
She opened the door, unwilling to turn and show Stuart the tears streaming down her face. But he was unrelenting and followed her to the porch. He stepped quickly around her and took her by the arms. There was no point in fighting. She looked into his eyes. He sucked in a breath as he studied her face. “Betsy Lowell, I believe you. But I still don’t know why you had the watch. I… was looking for it at the store tonight. I wanted to give it to you. When I didn’t see it there, I thought…”
Tears flowed harder and she didn’t even care. Let him know that he had hurt her. That she’d begun to care about him, had dreamed of becoming his wife. “That was kind of you. I guess we both had the same thought.”
“What do you mean?”
Placing her hand flat against his chest, she offered a trembling smile. “Your watch is fixed.”
While he was recovering from the surprise of her words, she quickly disengaged from his arms and descended the steps.
Chapter Twelve
Stuart stared out the window at Miss Annie’s trying desperately to catch a glimpse of Betsy. She’d been back there for three weeks, and his mother refused to eat there and shamed him into staying away himself.
“That girl has made it clear that she wants nothing to do with you—not that I blame her. If you want any chance to get her back, you best respect her wishes.”
He’d even tried to give her the wages she had earned in the few days she’d worked at the store, but she’d sent it back three times.
The winter dance was tonight, and he’d sent her a note asking her to attend with him. But he’d never received an answer. He supposed he deserved what he got, but he missed her dreadfully, and if there were any doubts in his mind about the way he felt, these past weeks had driven them from his heart. He was in love with Betsy and would remain a bachelor the rest of his life if she didn’t relent and give him a second chance.
Miss Annie always closed the restaurant for the town dances. There was no need to stay open. Besides, she enjoyed dressing up and dancing, herself. So Stuart knew Betsy wouldn’t have to work.
He pulled his watch out of his pocket. It had kept perfect time since Betsy fixed it. He’d accused her of stealing it, but every time he looked at it, he felt like he’d taken something that didn’t belong to him. Betsy or no Betsy, he’d never have a moment’s peace until he did the right thing.
“Ma, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
From the chair next to the fire, she nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Betsy peeked out the window. “Miss Annie, he’s gone. I’m going to run across the street.”
“That’s fine. Don’t be long. We need to hurry with these dishes so we can get ready for the dance.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The last three weeks had been like working in a completely different place from the first time Betsy worked at the restaurant. Miss Annie had been so happy to have her back she actually gave her the raise in wages she had proposed the day she tried to keep Betsy from leaving. The work was still backbreaking, but it was more bearable.
Mrs. Fields’ face lit up when she saw Betsy walk through the door. “You just missed Stuart.” She paused. “But I suppose you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Fields struggled to get up, but Betsy waved her back to her seat. “I know how to get what I want and pay for it.”
She walked straight to the ready-made dresses.
“Get the red velvet,” Mrs. Fields said.
“You don’t think it’s too… much?”
“Oh, honey. It’s a Christmas dance. There’ll be a lot of red and green.” She got up despite Betsy’s protests. “And you must have the ribbon as well.”
Betsy’s face warmed. “I’m afraid I have only the price of the dress.”
“You will not pay one dime for either. And go over and pick out new stockings and a pair of those ladies’ boots.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
“Yes you will. We owe you for the days you worked here. I know you won’t take our money, and I can’t say I blame you after the way you were accused, but these things have been in the store for months, and I always meant for you to have this gown. Remember how I told you red is your color?”
Betsy smiled. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”
“For me. Take these, and be the belle of this dance.”
Betsy gave her a quick hug. “I’ll tell you what. I will take these things if you will go back and sit down and let me get them all wrapped up.”
Reaching out, Mrs. Fields pressed her palm to Betsy’s cheek. “Consider giving my son a second chance. He’s finally realized that he loves you.”
Drawing in a breath, Betsy felt her eyes go wide. “He said that?”
“He doesn’t have to. He’s only had eyes for you since he was a little boy.” She smiled and moved her hand. “And unless I miss my guess, you love him, too.”
Betsy averted her gaze.
“It’s okay, dear. No need to say it. But if he asks you to dance tonight, don’t let your pride keep you from saying yes.”
Stuart walked into Old Joe’s room and promptly felt the anger coming from the old man. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to talk to you.”
He scowled. “Well, if you think you’re getting my blessing to ask for Betsy’s hand after what you accused her of, you’re an ignoramus.”
“That’s not why I’ve come. Although I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d have me, I know I did the unforgivable. But if you’ll allow me just a couple of minutes, I’d appreciate it.”
“Fine. Two minutes. And don’t sit down.”
Stuart pulled the watch from his pocket and set it on the table next to the bed. “I want to give this back.”
Old Joe’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of game you playing, son? You think this’ll get you my granddaughter? Because I won’t even tell her.”
He shook his head. “No. But Betsy told me you never meant to leave the watch behind.”
“That’s the truth. But since I did, and you bought it, it belongs to you.”
“Technically, I know.” He grinned. “But the fact is, you won it from my grandfather, and it should never have even been at the auction for me to buy.”
A grin reached Old Joe’s lips. “You know about that, eh?”
“My pa told me years ago. He wanted that old watch badly. I think that’s why I wanted it so much. But it was promised to Betsy, and she’s always counted on having it on her wedding day. I don’t want to take that away from her.”
The old ma
n gave a short laugh. “So you think after this, Betsy’ll forgive you and marry you and you’ll have the watch anyway.”
“Well, I can’t say that’s not a hope. But the truth is, I want her to have it on her wedding day, no matter who she marries.”
Old Joe nodded. “Okay, boy. If you’re sure that’s the way you want it.”
“It is. It’s the right thing to do.”
Betsy entered the schoolroom-turned-dance-floor with Miss Annie. She tried not to look for Stuart but found it difficult to hide her disappointment when she didn’t see him among the dancers or along the walls. “Don’t worry. He’ll be here,” Miss Annie said. She nodded toward the refreshment table. “Look.”
Betsy caught her breath at the sight of Stuart in a fresh black suit.
“He’s as handsome as his father.” Miss Annie’s voice held such sadness, Betsy turned to her.
“In another life, Stuart might have been my son. His pa and I courted at one time, but he loved Nan from the day she stepped off the stage to teach school. I tried to win him back, but it was no use.”
“Well, it won’t be that way for Stuart and me.”
“Don’t be a fool. What he did was wrong, but he’s apologized and tried to make it right. Don’t let your pride keep you from love.” She nudged Betsy’s arm. “Someone wants to speak to you.”
Following her gaze, Betsy noted Mrs. Fields waving her over to a group of chairs close to the refreshments. She hesitated only a moment, then headed her way as Miss Annie moved toward a group of older women.
Mrs. Fields looked lovely in deep brown velvet that brought out the color of her eyes. “You look lovely, ma’am.”
“Why, thank you.” She glanced over Betsy’s shoulder. “Did I see you come in with that woman?”
Betsy turned and followed her gaze to Miss Annie. “It’s too bad she never got married. She’s a good person.”
A snort left Mrs. Fields. “A man-hungry woman if I ever saw one.”
Betsy leaned close and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then spoke close to her ear. “Don’t be too hard on her, ma’am. You had the life she thought she’d have. And let me tell you, she only says the kindest things about you and Stuart.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am. It is.”
Mrs. Fields took Betsy’s hand as she stood up. “You’re as beautiful as I knew you’d be. And the ribbon woven through your hair is perfect.”
Betsy reached up and touched the ribbon. “Thank you.”
Behind her, she heard a man’s voice: “Excuse me, miss.”
Her belly fluttered as she turned, then her heart sank. “Good evening, Mr. Carter.”
“May I have this dance, Miss Lowell?”
She couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse, so she nodded. “I’m honored.”
For the next two hours, she danced with one man after another. Young men, older men with graying temples looking for a young wife, even a few boys who she had a feeling asked her on a dare. Everyone, it seemed, except for Stuart. He hadn’t so much as looked at her for the entire dance. She finally gathered the courage to refuse a request for the last dance, and as the violins began to play she went to the refreshment table and requested a glass of punch.
When she felt a warm hand at her elbow, she knew before she turned that it was Stuart. “Will you honor me with the last dance, Miss Lowell?”
She nodded, and he took the cup from her hand and set it on the table. Silently, he led her onto the dance floor. It seemed as though she melted into his arms, fitting perfectly as he began to move to the music. “You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
“Thank you. And you’re the most dashing man.”
He smiled, she smiled in return, and the tension seemed to fall away as though they’d never argued.
“I went to see Pops tonight before I came here. He’s never seen me dressed up.”
“And did he tell you how lovely you look?”
Betsy laughed at the memory of her grandpa’s scowl. “He told me I looked positively indecent and if he had the use of both his arms and both his legs he’d hog-tie me and keep me in.”
Stuart threw back his head and laughed. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“He told me you went to see him earlier.”
Stuart’s face darkened. “He said he wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You shouldn’t have given him the watch.”
“It was never meant to be mine.”
“But that’s not true, Stuart. It came from your family in the first place.”
“If only my grandpa could’ve beaten a full house.”
Betsy rolled her eyes. “If I know Pops, half those cards probably came from his sleeve.”
Stuart chuckled and turned her on the floor. She wished the music would go on forever and ever. A man approached, tapping Stuart on the shoulder to cut in. Ever the gentleman, Stuart reluctantly stepped back, but Betsy had waited too long for this dance and she had no intention of cutting it short. She looked at Mr. Carter. “I’m sorry, but I want to dance with him.”
Both men showed surprise on their faces, then Stuart stepped back up and took her in his arms. “Sorry, Jonathon. Lady’s choice.”
He turned to Betsy. “That was an unexpected honor.”
Betsy drew a deep breath, determined that she would never again let her pride get the better of her where Stuart was concerned. “The truth is, I came here tonight only to dance with you. If you’d asked me first, I never would have accepted an invitation from another man.”
Much to Betsy’s disappointment, the music ended just then, and the room erupted in applause for the band. Annoyance showed on Stuart’s face. He glanced around, then grabbed her hand. “Come on.” Grabbing their coats, he took her outside into the schoolyard.
He placed a hand on either of her arms and looked down into her eyes with such intensity, she almost couldn’t breathe. “Say it again.”
Betsy refused to play coy. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear. “The truth is,” she said, returning his gaze, “I came here tonight only to dance with you. If you’d asked me first—”
His face descended, and his lips pressed against hers, warm and firm. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer as her arms reached up, hands clasping behind his neck. She lost all sense of time, and they stayed that way until they heard the door open. Then slowly, they pulled apart.
“I’m taking you home.”
“What about your ma? Besides, Miss Annie won’t allow gentleman callers, remember?” It was one thing for her to allow a few dances. Another for her to change her entire set of rules.
“Hang on. Stay here.” She watched him walk inside, and when he returned a moment later, he took her elbow, and they began to walk.
“What about Miss Annie?”
“She agreed to my walking you home. As a matter of fact, she said we can go into the restaurant for pie.”
“I don’t believe it!”
He held up a key. “She gave me this.”
“Well, let’s go.” She stopped short.
“What?” Stuart asked.
“Your ma? We forgot about her.”
He grinned, shaking his head. “Miss Annie is driving her home in my buggy. They were together when I went inside. It was my ma’s idea. Must be a Christmas miracle.”
Grinning, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and took a step forward, but he didn’t budge. “Is something wrong?”
He nodded. “I don’t want to wait.”
“What are you talking about? Wait for what?”
“I was going to ask you to marry me when I took you home, but I can’t wait that long to ask you.”
Betsy’s heart raced, and she stepped close to him. “Yes.”
Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her closer. “Are you sure?”
“Well, we haven’t actually courted yet, so I’m not sure it’s all that pro
per.”
“Oh, Betsy Lowell. I’ve been courting you since the first time I dipped your hair ribbon in ink.”
“Is that what you were doing?”
“Of course. Couldn’t you tell I was sweet on you?”
She smiled. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have given you a fat lip for your trouble.”
“It was worth it. I’m just glad it’s healed now.”
Betsy allowed him to pull her even closer, and just before his head came down, she whispered, “Why’s that?”
“Why do you think?”
Then his lips were on hers once more.
When he pulled away, they smiled at each other. Betsy widened hers into a teasing grin. “You know what this means, of course.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ll be sharing the watch.”
“As it should be.”
Betsy’s mind whirled with questions. Where would they live? What about Pops? Would she work at the store? Should she continue her position at Miss Annie’s until the wedding? When would the wedding be? But she wanted to savor this moment.
“What are you thinking about?”
“It’s not important right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’d rather you kiss me again.”
Lowering his head, he obliged.
All the things she had thought about fled her mind. They could discuss them later.
They had plenty of time.
Tracey Bateman is a prolific writer of more than forty novels. She has more than a million books in print and has won numerous awards, including the prestigious Christy Award for Excellence in 2010. Tracey makes her home in the beautiful Missouri Ozarks with her husband and four children.
Something New
Joanne Bischof
Chapter One
Blue Ridge Mountains, Virginia
Spring 1893
Wren knew this earth. It would always be here. Tucked in the hollow where the sugar maples grew and the breeze blew easy over the western ridge, this mountain ground had yet to fail her. If she planted, tended, and pulled, it would sustain and provide. Kneeling against the poky garden gate, she tugged a weed from the soil and set the spindly leaves in her willow basket, then searched for another.
The Heirloom Brides Collection Page 11
