Lois's Risk

by Kimberly Grist

  Lois’s Risk

  By

  Kimberly Grist

  Copyright © 2018 Kimberly Grist

  Published by Forget Me Not Romances (a division of Winged Publications) 2015

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of author or Forget Me Not Romances.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To farmers everywhere. Thank you.

  So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. Galations 6:9 NLT

  He has shown you, O man, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you? But to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

  Chapter 1

  “If a young lady is not engaged, she may receive calls from any unmarried gentleman she desires and may accept invitations freely. She should exercise discretion, however, as to whom she favors in the acceptance of such invitations.”

  Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883.

  Standing in front of the picture window in her dress shop, Lois arranged the simple one-piece tea gown on the mannequin. Unlike her preferred style, which required detailed measuring and fittings, the only sizing on this dress was accomplished by cinching the built-in belt. She redressed the child mannequin and placed a ragdoll under its arm.

  Placing her hand on the window pane, she gazed at the many businesses, newly revitalized by the railroad. Carrie Town now boasted a post office, blacksmith, general merchandise, barber shop, gristmill, and livery stable. A stockyard had been built a few miles north to create a holding area for cattle and other livestock that would be shipped by rail directly to various meatpacking plants.

  The bright Texas sunshine streamed through the window highlighting the cheerful yellow calico on the matching mother-daughter outfits. Her smile turned south when she took in the state of her dress shop. Muslin, linen, and calico draped every surface, discarded by a previous customer she’d spent hours with this morning. “Perhaps, I will return once I’ve more time to consider,” the woman said.

  I doubt she’ll return with a decision. More likely she will come to pillage through my goods, then complain it’s not the quality she is used to. Lois shook her head, then began folding the bolts of fabric she’d invested a small fortune in. The material was beautiful, and choices in color ranged from deep red to peacock blue which could be used alone or with the popular tartan fabrics.

  Her mood lightened as the shop took on a neater impression. The whitewashed clapboard walls caught the light from the window and gave the room a cheery appearance. A fashionable dress, the color of a ripe plum hung on a hook awaiting the return of its owner for a final fitting.

  Heading to her makeshift kitchen in the back of the shop, Lois put on a pot of coffee. The rich aroma soon filled the room. She placed several rag dolls in assorted colored calico dresses in the window. Smoothing the fabric, she returned the neat stacks to the shelves on the back wall.

  Her friend, Rebecca, suggested she change tactics and expand her merchandise from dresses to other items and gifts, which might appeal to the mostly male population currently transitioning through the town as they shipped their goods and livestock.

  The bell on her door tinkled signaling a customer. Lois glanced in the mirror and readjusted her blond curls to frame her face. She pushed back her shoulders, then forced a smile and stepped to the front of the store. She stifled a gasp at the sight of the bank owner.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson. I’m surprised to see you. I hope you come on friendly terms? I know I haven’t missed any payments at the bank."

  His smile reached his eyes, which were a piercing gray blue. He extended his hand in greeting. “Yes, very friendly, I hope.”

  Lois admired the fine tailoring of his dark cutaway jacket which coordinated nicely with his fashionable gray striped trousers. Matt Anderson was a handsome man with dark hair slightly graying at the temples. He took a step toward the picture window. “There is an abundance of men in town, doing business with the railroad, but so few women. You’ve had to rethink your market. I’m impressed by your ingenuity.”

  “I took the advice of a friend and added small gifts a traveler could take home to a loved one. The tea dress like the one on display, with the adjustable belt, has also been popular.” Heat rose from her neck to her face.

  The banker took off his bowler hat, then nodded. “You were wise to take your friend's advice.”

  Lois shuffled her feet. “Was there something in particular you are looking for? Perhaps for your daughter?”

  Yes, she is the reason I’m here.” He smiled displaying perfect teeth. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Of course not, please be seated.” Lois motioned toward a small marble-top bistro table and two chairs. ”Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

  At his nod, Lois quickly poured, then placed two cups on a tray and returned to the table.

  Placing his hat aside, Mr. Anderson took a sip of coffee. “I appreciate you giving me some time. I first thought to speak with you after church but decided it might be best if we could talk here.”

  “Since you are one of the Sunday School teachers in my daughter’s class, you are aware of the advertisement for a husband they created for your friend, Miss Towns.” The banker raised his eyebrows.

  Lois placed her hand over her mouth and giggled. “I don’t know if there is anyone in town who is not aware of their ad.”

  His mouth twitched. “What you may not be aware of is my daughter hand-delivered a copy of the ad to me. Apparently, after much discussion with her friends. she thought I was as much in need of a wife as Rebecca needed a husband.”

  He leaned forward. “I was a little annoyed my daughter would discuss something so personal with her friends. It’s just been the two of us for so long. Although admittedly I am lonely at times, it never occurred to me Kate felt the same way.”

  Lois smiled. “You have a lovely daughter. She is kind, considerate and smart. I’m sure she and all the girls meant well.”

  “My daughter is my life, I would do anything to make her happy, but allowing her to pick out my wife is a little too far-reaching for me.”

  His eyes twinkled, and he flashed another smile. “She was so business-like in her presentation about how she needed a mother and why I needed a wife. Flabbergasted is the best word I can come up with to explain my feelings. But since I took time to think about it, I’m touched. Which brings me to the reason for my visit.” He tapped the side of his cup. “I hope you will forgive me for the way I am going about things. But since you are obviously a business-minded person, I thought it best to present my case in this way.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Your case?”

  Mr. Anderson nodded. “You are a hardworking, respectable young woman who would make a fine mother for Kate. Your reputation is stellar, and the fact you are well-liked in the community would be good for business. Although our age difference is greater than I care to admit, I would court you properly and do everything within my power to make you happy. You would want for nothing. I was happy in my first marriage. I would expect to be content if this relationship should prove out.”

  “Mr. Anderson, I don’t know what to say. I’m honored, of course.” Lois studied her feet.

  “I make a good living, but I have no objection if you would like to continue your business. That dec
ision would be entirely up to you.” He stood, placing his hat on his head. “I would like to take you to dinner Thursday night. Is six o’clock acceptable to you?”

  Lois nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  Taking her hand, he placed it to his lips. His eyes darkened to a slate blue. “I look forward to it.”

  As she watched him leave, Daniel's face rose into her mind. Lois placed her hand to her heart. What is wrong with me? A handsome, distinguished man, good father with an excellent reputation wants to court me. He owns the bank, for goodness sakes. Why is it that I can only think of Daniel?

  Chapter 2

  “Require all to be neat and tidy when they come to the table. There is marked neglect in many families in this respect. They take no pains to arrange themselves neatly, but dash right into the dining room when a meal is announced, forgetting all the precepts of order and etiquette”…

  Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883.

  Lois’s twenty-five-year-old brother, Leo, pulled up in front of her shop precisely at five o’clock. She grabbed her bag, placed the closed sign on the window, then pulled the shade.

  Meeting her at the door, he asked, “Is that all you got?”

  She placed her hands on her hips, “You act as though every other Friday afternoon when you pick me up, I give you a full wagon to load.”

  Leo set the suitcase in the back of the buckboard. “Glad you were ready. The aromas coming from the kitchen got my stomach growling. I’m starving.” He clucked to the horses and headed toward the family farm.

  “I do appreciate you picking me up. All week, I’ve looked forward to spending time with the family on Saturday and attending church with y’all on Sunday.” The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves created a relaxing rhythm as they traveled towards home. Within a few minutes, the town was at their back, and the view of ripe green alfalfa fields made a beautiful picture against the blue sky. Lois let out a deep sigh.

  “You heard from Daniel lately?” Leo asked.

  Lois forced a smile and tore her eyes away from the beautiful landscape. Her brother’s eyes, the same shade of blue as hers, were filled with concern. “No. The last time we talked was after his brother-in-law passed away. He was in the process of getting his sister and niece settled in at his place.”

  She blinked back tears. “You are the only one who knows how serious my feelings were toward Daniel. I hoped if I gave it some time, things would settle down and he would call on me again. But weeks have turned into months, and I haven’t heard a word.”

  As the road curved, they passed Daniel’s house, a two-story, dogtrot-style with a large covered corridor in the middle, created as a gathering space and designed to make the most of any breeze. On the right side were the parlor, dining and kitchen area. The bedrooms were on the other side of the passage. He’d purchased the homestead aligning her parents’ farm three years ago when Lois was seventeen.

  “I get a glimpse of him now and then.” Her brother nodded toward the fields. “You can see the results of his hard work. Ma visits with his sister quite a bit. She is just now getting out of the house some.”

  Lois bit her lip. Daniel shared his concern with her about his sister. He’d done everything he could think of to make her feel at home. He added a kitchen to the back of the house and relocated his room to the upstairs, so his sister and niece could have separate bedrooms.

  “What about your new fellow, Mr. Fancy Pants?” Leo raised one eyebrow.

  “I don’t know why you don’t like him. He is attentive, takes me to dinner, and even brings me flowers.” Lois took one last glance at Daniel’s house.

  “It’s not that I don’t like him. I just like Daniel better.” Her brother reached into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief. “I can tell by those tears you feel the same.”

  Stepping down from the wagon, Leo handed Lois her bag, then drove the horses to the barn. He’d not exaggerated about the tantalizing aromas coming from the kitchen. Her mother stood at the stove stirring a large pot of chicken and dumplings. “I’m home, Mama.”

  Lois’s mother embraced her warmly, then held her at arm’s length. “So happy to see you. Supper is ready. You’ll just have time to wash up." Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “Your father is already at the table waiting.”

  Hastily taking her bag to her former bedroom, she poured water from a pitcher onto a cool washcloth and patted her face. The afternoon sun cast a soft glow across the brightly colored, crazy quilt she’d completed when she was ten. She picked up a hand mirror and smoothed her curls, then hurried to join her family.

  The table was covered in a lace tablecloth and set with plates with rims in apple-green. Each setting was hand-painted with a different floral design. Elton Weaver, her father, scoffed at the extravagance but agreed to the purchase. Lois smiled as she recalled him saying the plates were almost as pretty as his wife.

  Her father glanced up from his paper when Lois kissed the top of his head. ”I suppose we can eat now.” She took her seat just as Leo entered the room.

  Her father lowered his head and mumbled a prayer of thankfulness and ended with a hearty amen.

  Lois watched her mother dutifully fill her father’s plate first, and then her brother’s before serving herself and Lois. “Thank you, Mama. Everything looks and smells wonderful.”

  Lois’s eyes closed as she tasted the flavorful broth with bits of chicken and dumplings that melted in her mouth. Her mother smiled. “I do love watching my family enjoy their meals.”

  “Everything you make is delicious. Therefore, you will never be disappointed.” Her father squeezed her mother’s hand.

  “So how is business?” Her father’s thick eyebrows joined together. “Have you sold any more of your fancy dresses?”

  “I am working on two special designs for a friend’s wedding. But you were correct in your original assessment months ago. There has been little call for the types of dresses I enjoy making. I have success with some simple designs, and those sell almost as quickly as I can make them.”

  Her father laid his spoon down and leaned forward. “So after you realized your original plan was not working, you made strategic adjustments and found success?”

  “Yes, although it’s not the type of success I was anticipating.” Lois studied her reflection in her spoon.

  “We do the same with this farm. When crops fail, we adjust and diversify. I started out with the intention to grow cotton. Any hay we grew was for our own stock. I would never have guessed there would be a market to sell it to others for winter feed.” Her father took a slice of bread from the platter.

  Lois nodded. “And I would never have guessed there would be a market for ragdolls. The dolls by themselves do well, but they sell twice as fast when I pair them with a little-girl dress in a matching fabric.”

  “You have always been smart. It is such a shame you were born a woman and not a man.” Her father shook his head, then picked up his spoon and turned his attention to his supper.

  Lois took in a deep breath and studied the napkin in her lap. This was not the first time her father hurt her with his reasoning. When she’d elected to open a dress shop, he was enraged. “You are wasting your inheritance. Once the money is gone, don’t come here looking for me to provide a roof over your head.“

  She had burst into tears. Months passed before she was allowed back in the house. Finally, at her mother’s urging, he apologized. Since then, they treaded lightly around one another when she visited. I will not cry. Instead, she said, “What does my being female have to do with it, Papa?”

  Her father studied her as he finished the last bite of supper. “I can see I’ve hurt your feelings again.” He pressed his napkin to his mouth. “But I meant it to be a compliment. You are a good cook, you can sew, you can keep house, and you are beautiful—everything you need to be a successful wife and mother. This mind of yours, this drive to create things woul
d have better served you if you were a man.”

  Lois’s mother huffed. “I suppose it requires no brains to run a household? Do I not prepare and follow a budget? Do you think it is easy to cook, sew, garden, nurse sick children and make a home?”

  Elton Weaver looked in horror at the women on either side of him. “Now don’t twist my words. You know that is not what I meant.” He wiped his head with his napkin. “Daughter, right or wrong, it is unusual for a woman to run her own business. Many nights I lay awake, concerned for your safety. But as your papa, your success is my happiness.”

  Chapter 3

  “The true gentlewoman will show as much courtesy and observe all the little details of politeness as unfailingly toward her parents, husband, and family, or even toward her own domestics,

  as toward the most distinguished stranger. She is amiable.”

  Houghton, Walter R. American Etiquette Rules of Politeness

  New York: Standard Publishing House, 1883.

  Lois carefully washed the dishes, then passed them to her mother to dry. ”Thank you again for dinner, Mama. I’m sorry about challenging Papa. I should have ignored his comment.”

  “It was best to make your father explain his statement. Even though his words don’t convey it, I hope you realize how much he loves you.” Her mother placed the dish towel next to the sink and motioned toward the table. “Sit with me and have dessert. I made fresh cream especially for you. I know you enjoy it with pie.”

  As they enjoyed dessert, Lois explained about some of her more demanding customers. Her mother laughed. “I love hearing about your shop. But you haven’t mentioned anything about your new beau.”

  Lois sighed. “He is a handsome, kind, attentive man. We have long conversations about his daughter, his business and mine. Last week he offered a suggestion for items I can sell at the shop.” She patted her mother’s hand. “It was an excellent idea.”