A Bride in Store (31 page)

But would he wish away all his past troubles? If he’d known Nancy would jilt him, would he have avoided courting her?

Some of his best memories revolved around Nancy. His first dance, the fishing hole they often took his brothers to, the times he’d pulled her pigtails in school to dip them in ink.

What happy memories might he create with Eliza?

He already had plenty of good memories of her: the feel of her hands against his chest as she batted away feathers, the smile she gave him when he complimented her on some masculine characteristic most women would pout over, their time in the alley when
she’d promised not to marry the butcher’s sons, the moments when he could’ve sworn she’d glanced at his lips . . .

“And what are you scared of?” Eliza let go of his arm and stepped under the Men’s Emporium eaves.

How’d they get here already? He hadn’t noticed a step of the last block.

“I’m afraid that with all my worrying, I’ll miss a chance at happiness.” He climbed the single stair, swung open the door, and set the firearm on the counter.

She didn’t come inside, just stood at the threshold. Did she think standing outside alone in the dark was safe? He swung the door open wider.

“What would make you happy, Will?” Her breathless voice drew his gaze to the place one momentary pleasure lay.

He pulled her through the doorway, her jacket rough against his chest. “This.”

He slid his thumb along the scar across her cheek. She blinked up at him as he touched the puckered flesh he’d thought of kissing that first day—and so many days since.

She leaned into his hand a second before he pressed his mouth gently against hers.

The softness of her lips, the warmth of her in the crook of his arm, the way every worry and fear retreated with her so near—a kiss far sweeter than any of the schoolboy pecks he’d plied on Nancy. He slipped his other arm around her, and she pressed closer.

An instant later, she broke away, pupils wider in the moonlight than he’d ever seen them. “I can’t be caught kissing a man with no shirt on. Everyone will think . . . Well, this is exactly why they’d gossip if they saw me with you at this time of night. Things like this could happen.”

Yet she didn’t leave the circle of his arms.

He couldn’t help but smile at her objection. “Well, I realize this isn’t the best place or time—”

She stepped away from him and grabbed the doorknob behind her. “I can’t stay in here with you.”

He grabbed her free hand. “Wait.” He edged closer but stopped when she put her palm out.

“No farther.”

“All right.” He wouldn’t, though the desire to steal another kiss tempted him to hang the consequences. “But don’t go outside, where I’ll worry about you.”

“No need to worry.”

“Oh, but I am worried.” He pulled her away from the door until she let go of the knob so he could take her other hand. “I’m worried that you and I’ll miss out on happiness—long-lasting happiness.”

“I’ve got my store.” She glanced over her shoulder, as if she planned to return to the Five and Dime the moment he headed upstairs for his shirt.

“Will your store make you truly happy?”

She glowered. “I’ve worked too hard—”

He pressed a finger to her lips to cut her off.

She stood, blinking against the darkness.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t want a store and I shouldn’t want to doctor, but maybe we’re going about this all wrong.”

“How’s that?”

“In my Bible reading this evening, First John said something about the things of this world and our desires will pass away, but he who does the will of God lives forever. I want to do what God wants, sure, but at the same time, all my focus is on obtaining finances for school. Yet look at the mess I’m in.”

“You’re always trying to help others. Surely God will bless that.”

“But I’ve been acting as if I don’t believe God knows what I need—as if I’m the only one who can get it.”

“I didn’t pay a dime for my store, as Mr. Raymond likes to point out. Some unknown person is letting me use it. If that’s not God giving me a store to take care of, I don’t know what is.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck. She was right—her store was clearly a gift from God.

What had he expected her to do after his little Bible lesson—declare her property worthless, jump into his arms, and beg him to marry her?

Clearly, God had been speaking only to him. Maybe He was asking him to reconsider his goals, but what did that mean exactly? Give up school, the store, Eliza . . . everything?

Chapter 20

The glowing edge of the eastern horizon grew as Eliza rushed along an empty Main Street toward her store. She needed to clean last night’s mess before opening and perhaps fix her broken door.

A face-stretching yawn scrunched her eyes so much she stopped walking. Not only had the sheriff’s questions kept her from crawling into bed until a few hours ago, but ruminating over Will’s kiss had stolen the rest of her night.

She ran a finger along her scar. He’d caressed her puffy skin as if such an ugly thing were endearing. She wrapped her arms tightly about herself and hurried down the road. What a ridiculous thought. Of course a scar wouldn’t endear—more like engender pity. But his touch had been nothing short of tender, and his eyes had held no revulsion.

Walking faster, she forced herself not to imagine being kissed a second time. A kiss was pleasurable, fleeting—not a promise, like an engagement or courtship. And promises were often broken . . . like her mother’s vow to commit to her husband and be there for her children.

Promises were nothing. Kisses were meaningless.

She’d no longer pretend that Will refrained from asking to court
her because he didn’t want to, but something held him back. Her store and his schooling most likely; they couldn’t be together and maintain both dreams. Last night, he’d made that clear by insinuating she’d find real happiness if she gave up her store, that she couldn’t have both him and the Five and Dime.

She stopped in front of the Five and Dime. The front door was ajar. Hadn’t she locked it? Ignoring the shortness of her breath and her prickling skin, she tiptoed up the steps. Heart in her throat, she put a hand against the glass to peer inside.

Seeing no movement, she looked down the street. Should she get Will or bother the baker? Surely a robber wouldn’t sneak around this close to daylight. Pushing the door open enough to step through, she let her eyes adjust to the dim interior, her ears ready for any sound encouraging her to run.

Near the front counter, Will sat slumped in a wooden chair—a rather uncomfortable chair she’d found hidden upstairs. His head lolled to the side, and a soft snore escaped.

She let out a shaky breath and closed the door quietly behind her.

Spying the rifle across his lap, she stopped midstep. Could she wake him without getting shot?

“Will?” she whispered.

He hummed, a little smile curving his lips, yet his hand gripped the gun tighter.

She gritted her teeth and took a step back. She’d never awoken anyone but family, let alone a man with a gun.

No broken dishes littered the floor in the middle of the store, and a few plates and one lone teacup sat in the middle of the table she’d knocked over.

He’d cleaned? She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Just a few days ago, she’d accused him of trying to sabotage her business—more likely a reflection of what she might have done rather than Will. And yet here he slept after straightening everything.

Easing herself against the table holding children’s playthings, she
half leaned, half sat. These items sold so quickly, she had plenty of space to sit. She should put two, maybe three, more tables of these popular items up front.

Another of Will’s snores ended with a slight whistle.

Was watching a sleeping man wrong? But trying to sneak out or wake him didn’t seem wise either. Might he startle awake, ready to fight an imaginary foe, like her father used to? Or would he try his hardest to keep his eyes closed as long as possible, like her brother often had? Or maybe he awakened with a cheery attitude as soon as the clock chimed six, like her mother once did?

The morning sunlight penetrating the front windows slowly crept up to Will’s knees. He couldn’t be comfortable draped over that tiny chair. Why hadn’t he gone home? He’d known she’d taken her cash with her and planned to return early to clean.

And why guard her store? A robber wouldn’t return for towers of five-cent teacups and fistfuls of penny candy, but the guns under his counter would certainly entice a thief, along with his cashbox and more valuable merchandise.

Not so long ago, she’d doubted Will’s integrity, along with the rest of the townsfolk. She hadn’t trusted this man who slept in a wobbly chair, guarding the very trinkets undermining his sales, the doctor who bothered to save a stray dog’s life, the brother who made his little sisters’ eyes glow at the mere sight of him.

She should find something else to look at, but as the sunlight crept up his chest, causing the sheen of his navy tie to cast a blue shadow on his stubbly chin, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Playing with a loose strand of hair, she let herself look.

Nothing about him stood out if she forced herself to be objective. Sure he was handsome compared to her, but was he more striking than average?

She rolled her eyes at herself. Yes, he certainly was. Even if God hadn’t blessed him with an attractive face, the caring in his hands as he’d stitched her up that first day, the kindness in his eyes when
he talked to a patient, the mess of hair on his head, as soft as it was thick . . .

But the look in his eye the day of the pillow’s demise had not been kindness—it had been something she shouldn’t have seen from a man about to stand beside her groom.

And she’d run straight to him last night. Not home, not to the sheriff. To him. Knowing he’d help, but who wouldn’t he help?

How often had she witnessed Will give advice, medicine, and necessities away without a glimmer of indecision in his blue-green eyes?

Had she ever helped anyone if she’d lose something to do so? She regularly gave a portion of her income to the church, but often with a smidgen of misgiving, especially when she was under financial stress. And once or twice she’d allowed customers to buy from her despite being a penny short—but not without irritation.

The sun hit Will’s eyes, and his eyelids scrunched against the brightness. He rubbed a hand down his face and stretched in his chair.

His eyes opened for a second, drifted closed, then popped back open. “Eliza?”

She stiffened, but thankfully, his grip didn’t tighten around his rifle. “Yes.”

He made a charmingly silly noise as he yawned and shook his head to chase away sleep. “How long have you been here?”

“Not too long.” At least he hadn’t asked how long she’d been staring at him, memorizing his every feature, contemplating his compassionate heart.

He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Well, I certainly failed at guarding anything if you walked in unnoticed.”

She shook her head. Only he would apologize for not helping enough when he had gone beyond anyone’s expectations. “I still appreciate it. Nothing else has been stolen and you cleaned. That’s something.” More than something.

“And I fixed the back door.”

Of course he did. “Thank you, Will.”

He pushed himself out of the chair and took a lopsided step forward. He rotated his ankle and rubbed a lazy hand over his stomach, wrinkling his shirt more.

She should do something to let him know she was grateful for his guarding her store, cleaning up, coming to her aid at midnight—all of it. “You hungry?”

He shrugged.

Right. When wasn’t he? “Since you saved me from cleaning this morning, why don’t we have coffee and pastries next door before you head to work?”

One would think he’d been offered a thousand dollars by the smile filling his face. “You’re eating with me?”

“I normally don’t breakfast this early, but we can take our time.” Or maybe he couldn’t? “That is, if you don’t need to return to your store any time soon.”

“Oh no.” His smile made strange things flutter inside her. “I’ll sprint down at the last second if need be.” He slapped his pockets. “Oh wait, I don’t have any money.”

“I’ll pay.”

He frowned.

“Consider it reimbursement for guard duty.”

His frown deepened.

She stuck her hands on her hips and mirrored his features. “You’d take a pie from an old woman for inspecting her bunions.”

“But that’s an old woman.” He let his gaze travel over her, and strangely she didn’t shrink away or cross her arms to guard against his perusal. Did he find her attractive despite her unembellished dress? And why did she wish all of a sudden she owned a nicer wardrobe?

“All right. But I’m not letting you pay because I watched your store.” He held out his arm. “I just don’t want to waste five minutes away from you.”

She took his arm, her own shaking a bit. He wanted to be with her that much?

Her pulse pumped hard as they walked next door. If she were to commit to Will, when he went west, she’d have to relinquish her store when her contract obligations with Mr. Raymond expired. If she couldn’t do that, there was no reason to entangle their emotions any further. She let her arm slip out of his. She’d not damage his heart like her mother had devastated her father’s.

They stepped inside the bakery, but no one stood behind the high counter topped with two muffin platters. Her stomach grumbled.

Will stopped in front of the fresh baked pastries. “Mr. Allison?”

A boy not much thicker than a French bread roll popped his flour-powdered face around the back doorjamb. “Father’s not here. What can I get you?” He looked at her, then back at Will, and his grin widened. “Both of you?”

“Coffee, and we’ll just eat from the muffins you’ve got out.” Will looked to her and winced. “Unless, of course, you wanted something else?”

Knowing Will hadn’t meant to choose for her but rather make the baker’s life easier, she picked up a muffin. She hoped the dark spots weren’t raisins. “These will do, I’m sure.”