Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) (3 page)

“Well, Jack Beauregard just started up a new place. General store just down the street a bit. He might need a bit of help cleanin’ and such. Man’s all right, but sort of rough around the edges…if you know what I mean.”

“That sounds perfect. I’ll go see him this morning.” Lucie excused herself and motioned for her brother to follow her back upstairs, all the while thinking about the sound of disgust in Mr. McCord’s voice. 

Chapter Three

Lucie
had worked in the store for almost a week, wondering at the end of each day whether she’d still have a job or not the next morning. Every day would begin with Mr. Beauregard’s snarling disapproval of how she cleaned and stocked the shelves. Although in her eyes, the floors weren’t dirty and the store looked much more organized than it had before she’d started. He was constantly following her around the small building, rearranging everything she straightened and telling her it wasn’t good enough. He’d also found her selling skills lacking the few times she’d tried to help a customer.

Martha had come into the store every day, checking up on her, which was a sweet thing for her to do, and Lucie appreciated it..

“Miss Croft!” Mr. Beauregard yelled from the back room. “Come back here this instant!”

She cringed, wondering what he was going to gripe about this time as she slowly made her way to where he waited. She didn’t like her boss. Every chance he got, he was touching her…whether it was to pull her somewhere or to show her something she’d done wrong. He made her skin crawl.

He stood in the middle of the room, glaring as he pointed his dirty, fat finger to several opened boxes. “I thought I told you to put all this up before you went home last night?” He pulled out a bag of sugar and another smaller bag of chicory beans and shoved them in her face. “If I hadn’t come in here, these would’ve been ruined! My customers won’t buy sugar that tastes like coffee!” he screamed, his eyes actually bulging.

She took a step back. “I don’t think—”

“I don’t pay you to think, now do I! I want these things put up where they’re supposed to be…and if I hear any complaints from a customer, I’m docking your wages.” He tossed the bags back into the box, kicking it as he walked by. As he headed toward the adjoining room, he shoved her into the wall. Without a backward glance, he slammed the door of his office behind him.

She stared at the merchandise, breathing hard and trying to calm herself down. She frowned at the name stamped on the outside of the heavy crates. Two shipments had been delivered since she’d begun working, and each time the names had been different—as if they were for another store. The contents were strange as well—not the normal items one would find in a small mercantile like this one.

“Lucie?” A familiar female voice hollered from the front of the store.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her skirt and hurried out into the large room, pushing the daunting job to the back of her mind. “I’m so sorry, Martha! I didn’t hear the bell. What can I get for you today?”

The small creases between Martha’s eyebrows deepened. Pursing her lips, she stared at her a moment. “Are you okay, my dear?”

Lucie quickly nodded, knowing Mr. Beauregard could hear every word. “Everything’s fine. I was just in the back room unpacking the last order.” The older woman’s eyes narrowed, and Lucie held her breath, praying the woman wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Okay, my dear. I just stopped by to let you know Alex loved his first day at school. Pity the teacher was out sick last week so he couldn’t start then. From the way he bounced in and talked my ear off, I’m assuming he had a marvelous time.”

Sadness filled her heart, wishing she’d been there to greet him. She wouldn’t have wanted him to return to an empty room though, so she was grateful Martha had been there in her place. “I’m glad. I hated that he had to work before school when we lived in Lawrence, but the pennies he made selling papers helped buy bread.”

Martha smiled and laid a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Things will get better soon. It’s just a matter of believing.”

“Yes…well, sometimes believing is a bit hard for me.” She forced a smile on her face. “Now, what were you needing?”

“Oh, nothing today. I was heading back to the hotel after visiting with a friend and thought I’d stop in and see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing as well as I was four hours ago when I saw you at breakfast.”

Martha laughed. “Oh well, yes that’s true. I just want to make sure you’re settling in okay. I did have an ulterior motive in stopping by. I wanted to ask if you and Alex would like to attend Sunday’s church service with me?”

“We would love to. Bribe Alex with pancakes and he won’t even grumble. I think he’s already gained five pounds in the week we’ve been here.” She laughed, walking Martha to the door.

***

Sebastian glanced up as his mother breezed into his office. From the determined look on her face, he knew he wasn’t going to get rid of the headache he’d been sporting all morning. Laying the paper he’d been holding on the pile in front of him, he leaned back in his leather chair.

“Good morning—”

“Sebastian, I think Lucie is in trouble.”

He straightened in his chair, his brows drawn together as he stared at the small woman standing in front of his desk with her hands on her hips. “And you know this because…”

“I went to see her at the store—to see how she is getting along. But when I walked in, I overheard Mr. Beauregard yelling at her, then what sounded like someone being shoved against the wall.”

Several minutes passed, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on his desk. “You’re sure about this? I can’t just go barging in and accusing the man of something without more proof than that.”

Martha frowned at her son, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Have you ever known me to exaggerate or panic? I’m the most level-headed woman you will ever know, Sebastian McCord, so when I tell you something’s not right, I expect you to believe me!”

He raised his hands in surrender and stood. “Fine, fine. For you, I will go check on her.” He bent over and kissed her soft cheek. “But if this is one of your ploys to make me change my mind about marrying her or if you’re mistaken—”

She grabbed his arm, and he could see worry in her eyes. “I’m not. I would never play such a horrible trick on you. I only want you and Stella to be happy. Please, Sebastian, go check on Lucie.

***

              Sebastian had just stepped onto the wooden sidewalk in front of the store when he heard Beauregard’s loud voice booming from inside, yelling at someone. Grasping the doorknob in his hand, he hesitated.

“I ain’t payin’ you to just stand there, now am I?”

“I’m—”

Lucie let out a startled yelp. He heard her cry out, which was followed by a loud
thud.
Sebastian jerked the front door open.

“I’m not payin’ you to talk either. You and me, we’re gonna come to an understanding.”

“Mr. Beauregard—”

“Is there a problem here, Beauregard?”

The store owner swung around when he heard his voice, pulling Lucie forward. She stumbled, trying to keep her balance.

Sebastian’s anger flared when he saw Lucie’s thin arm in the man’s meaty grasp. “Drop her arm and step away.”

The man did as he was told, his scruffy face reddening in anger and his beady eyes narrowing, almost disappearing into his fat cheeks. “I don’t tell you how to run that hotel of yours, so don’t tell me what to do in my own place, McCord. Now get whatever you came in here for and leave.” With one last glare at Lucie, he turned and waddled through the open doorway leading into the back office.

She inhaled, letting the air out slowly between her lips. “Thank you, Mr. McCord.”

“Please, call me Sebastian.”

He stared at her lips, glistening pink as she wet them with her tongue. An emotion welled inside of him as he saw the fear in her eyes, something he’d thought long buried after his wife’s betrayal. He hardened his heart as he forced himself to look at the girl in front of him. She was nothing more than skin and bones—too thin for his liking. The type of woman to hold his interest was the complete opposite of Lucie Croft… He let the thought drift away. He didn’t need another woman in his life.

***

Concern showed in Mr. McCord’s brown eyes. Lucie’s heartbeat quickened, and she turned away. She caught her reflection in a small mirror propped on a shelf and was horrified. Her thin body quivered, the lace on her sleeves shaking. Some of her dark hair had pulled away from the loose bun on the back of her head, and there was a smudge of what looked like dirt on one cheek.

She turned back to face the man who’d helped her. “Thank you. Mr. Beauregard was unhappy with something I failed to do…”

“That gives him no excuse to lay a hand on you, Lucie.”

The room spun, and she took several deep breaths, which only made her feel even more lightheaded. Swaying, she placed her hand on the counter beside her. Sebastian stepped forward and gripped her elbow with a firm grip.

“There now. Let’s sit you down.” He led her toward the ladder-back chair tucked in a corner.

After getting her seated, he squatted in front of her and looked into her eyes, which made her want to squirm. He was so close, she noticed the tiny golden flecks in his brown irises. He also smelled heavenly—like a forest after a summer rain.

“I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. I wonder if you would feel up to helping me with a small issue?”

She raised her eyebrows but continued to study his strong jaw. “Help with what, Sebastian?”

He rose, turning toward the display shelves that lined the wall, and stared at several bundles of material. “I need to purchase a present for my mother.”

She smiled up at him, feeling a bit better. What a sweet thing for him to do. “What did you have in mind? Is this a special gift?”

He let out a loud sigh. “It’s for her birthday. What does one get for the lady who has everything?”

“Well, that is definitely a problem.” Not liking him looming over her, she rose. Plucking three spools of black thread from among the white spools, she dropped them back where they belonged, then absently tucked the corner of a pretty purple silk back between the roll and a thinner bundle of ugly brown wool lying underneath it. She noticed him staring at her fingers. A couple of the nails were chipped, and the skin over her knuckles was red and chapped. She dropped her hand back to her side in a loose fist, hiding both hands in the folds of her skirt.

Without hesitating, he lifted one of her hands, and turned it over where several large weeping blisters marred her palm. He took out his handkerchief and wrapped it around her hand, carefully tying it over her knuckles. “Your hands are too soft for this kind of work.”

She pulled away, cradling her bandaged hand against her chest. “I admit I haven’t had many jobs, but I can’t continue accepting charity from your mother—or you. I intend to earn the money to pay for our room and the food we eat.”

“Well then, you can begin by helping me pick out my mother’s gift.”

She relaxed, her spine and shoulders slumping a bit, which relieved the muscle cramps in the back of her neck. “What are some of the things she likes?”

He shrugged. “The usual things women like.”

“That’s not an answer. Does she need a new dress? A new bonnet maybe?”

He shook his head. “No. She can’t possibly wear all the dresses she has now. Or the bonnets.”

She pursed her lips and glanced around the store. “What about a book? My father loved reading and set aside one hour every evening. It was his favorite way of relaxing.”

“Mother enjoys Harper’s Bazaar.” His eyebrows raised. “Odd, but I can’t recall ever seeing her read a book. Me? I love books, but haven’t been able to sit down with one since taking over the hotel. One of these days I’ll get back to reading.”

“I know exactly what you need to give your mother for her birthday.”

“I’m glad one of us does. What’s your brilliant idea?”

“Well,” she hesitated then squared her shoulders. “You need to take her on a train ride to The Point Hotel on the Narrow Gauge Railroad. I’ve heard it is quite lovely, and the views from The Point are breathtaking.”

He closed his mouth and stared at her. “Well, it’s definitely different, I’ll give you that.” He picked up a small figurine and turned it over in his hand. The small horse had been carved from hickory, the darker grain pattern covering the mane and tail. She loved how the artist had captured the wild essence of the animal as it reared on its hind legs, pride on its noble face.

He set the statuette back down and glanced over at her, the same stately look on his face. “If you don’t mind my asking, where are your parents? You seem a bit young to be alone and taking on the responsibility of your brother.”

“They died in a fire. There was no one else we could turn to for help—no family. I promised Alex I’d take care of him, so he wouldn’t have to go to an orphanage, and I plan on keeping that promise.” She turned away and mumbled, “No matter how hard it gets.”

“I think your idea has merit, Lucie. My mother has been hinting she’d like to visit The Point and see what everyone’s been talking about. My father never took her—wasn’t willing to line the plush bank accounts of the men who owned the land there.”

He placed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Think I’ll pay for her to stay a night or two at the hotel as well.” He gave her a crooked grin and wriggled his dark brows. “Maybe she’ll learn a few of their secrets for our little place.”