lost to the bigger towns of Lockhart and Luling would ever return to little Prairie Lea, but they had proved loyal to the kind shopkeeper. “Your one-year anniversary and everything still looks brand-new. What do you think, Mol?”
Molly surveyed the smart displays, the pyramid of tin cans, and the notions arranged beneath the glass counter. Bailey knew she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of the fabric, and goodness knew she had no use for the housewares and farm equipment, but she wouldn’t let her brother outdo her in anything, especially flattery.
“I love Mr. Bradford’s store. The shop exudes confidence while still possessing a welcoming atmosphere. You’ve put together an amazing selection in the past year.” She turned an effusive smile to the gentleman. “First rate.”
Bailey shook his head at Deacon’s pleased stammering. Were all men so easily hoodwinked? Seeing through the exaggeration wasn’t difficult when you weren’t the target. ’Course he was no better.
“Molly can spot quality,” her pa said, “but she wouldn’t know a whisk from a rug beater.”
Molly’s eyes tightened, but her smile didn’t falter. Laughter filled the room, and hers was the merriest of them all.
Bailey wasn’t fooled. Something needed to be said in her defense. “Hey, Tuck,” he called to his brother, allowing his voice to carry. “You said you needed help on your ciphering. You should ask Molly to look at your sums. She’s a whiz at figures.”
Mr. Lovelace’s laughter twisted into a cough. He pointed at Tuck. “That’s a fine idea, son. Women are helpful when it comes to making it past the schoolmarms. Don’t know what good it does them later, but don’t turn down help when you can get it.”
Tuck scowled at Bailey and ducked out the door to join Samuel and the older boys, where there was less talk of ciphering and schoolmarms.
His mother, Mary Garner, left the refreshment table to join Molly. “Did you bring any food, or are you begging off everyone else?”
Bailey shook his head. He agreed Molly needed to make some effort when it came to bringing grub, but he grew defensive when his mother got involved. Between his ma and her pa, she was taking a beating.
Molly kept her chin up. “I’m sure Mother brought something. She said Lola was working in the kitchen until late last night.”
“Lola has a husband, doesn’t she?” Mary flipped a dish towel over her shoulder. “Yes, a good cook doesn’t stay single long.”
“Mother, what does Mrs. Lovelace’s servant have to do with anything? You’re fishing for trouble.”
“Don’t you talk that way to your ma.” Bailey’s father, George, shuffled between the aisles holding one of Bailey’s little sisters by the hand. He winked at Molly. “At least not where she can hear it, or she’ll make me do something about it.”
“Oh, stop,” Mary huffed. “It’s no secret Molly wants to get married, and as far as I’m concerned, the sooner she does, the better. Adele is my dear friend, and if her daughter can’t catch a husband, she won’t mind me helping. I’d want someone to do the same for Susannah and Ida if, heaven forbid, they got to her age without a trip down the aisle.”
Molly’s smile faded. Bailey looked to his father for help. Once Mary Garner got started, it took a team of horses to redirect her.
“Now, dear, men marry for more than meat and taters. Miss Lovelace is so elegant that none of the bumpkins around here are up to snuff, but enough with this tomfoolery. You might want to check on Ida. She feels warm and says her throat hurts. She won’t even try the sweets.”
His mother knelt and placed the back of her hand against his sister’s forehead. With a wrinkled brow she led the little girl away, allowing Bailey an unobstructed view of Molly. Her blond curls were swept up, exposing her delicate but stubborn jaw. Her black brows and lashes framed grateful bluebonnet eyes that turned toward him.
Reverend
Molly surveyed the smart displays, the pyramid of tin cans, and the notions arranged beneath the glass counter. Bailey knew she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of the fabric, and goodness knew she had no use for the housewares and farm equipment, but she wouldn’t let her brother outdo her in anything, especially flattery.
“I love Mr. Bradford’s store. The shop exudes confidence while still possessing a welcoming atmosphere. You’ve put together an amazing selection in the past year.” She turned an effusive smile to the gentleman. “First rate.”
Bailey shook his head at Deacon’s pleased stammering. Were all men so easily hoodwinked? Seeing through the exaggeration wasn’t difficult when you weren’t the target. ’Course he was no better.
“Molly can spot quality,” her pa said, “but she wouldn’t know a whisk from a rug beater.”
Molly’s eyes tightened, but her smile didn’t falter. Laughter filled the room, and hers was the merriest of them all.
Bailey wasn’t fooled. Something needed to be said in her defense. “Hey, Tuck,” he called to his brother, allowing his voice to carry. “You said you needed help on your ciphering. You should ask Molly to look at your sums. She’s a whiz at figures.”
Mr. Lovelace’s laughter twisted into a cough. He pointed at Tuck. “That’s a fine idea, son. Women are helpful when it comes to making it past the schoolmarms. Don’t know what good it does them later, but don’t turn down help when you can get it.”
Tuck scowled at Bailey and ducked out the door to join Samuel and the older boys, where there was less talk of ciphering and schoolmarms.
His mother, Mary Garner, left the refreshment table to join Molly. “Did you bring any food, or are you begging off everyone else?”
Bailey shook his head. He agreed Molly needed to make some effort when it came to bringing grub, but he grew defensive when his mother got involved. Between his ma and her pa, she was taking a beating.
Molly kept her chin up. “I’m sure Mother brought something. She said Lola was working in the kitchen until late last night.”
“Lola has a husband, doesn’t she?” Mary flipped a dish towel over her shoulder. “Yes, a good cook doesn’t stay single long.”
“Mother, what does Mrs. Lovelace’s servant have to do with anything? You’re fishing for trouble.”
“Don’t you talk that way to your ma.” Bailey’s father, George, shuffled between the aisles holding one of Bailey’s little sisters by the hand. He winked at Molly. “At least not where she can hear it, or she’ll make me do something about it.”
“Oh, stop,” Mary huffed. “It’s no secret Molly wants to get married, and as far as I’m concerned, the sooner she does, the better. Adele is my dear friend, and if her daughter can’t catch a husband, she won’t mind me helping. I’d want someone to do the same for Susannah and Ida if, heaven forbid, they got to her age without a trip down the aisle.”
Molly’s smile faded. Bailey looked to his father for help. Once Mary Garner got started, it took a team of horses to redirect her.
“Now, dear, men marry for more than meat and taters. Miss Lovelace is so elegant that none of the bumpkins around here are up to snuff, but enough with this tomfoolery. You might want to check on Ida. She feels warm and says her throat hurts. She won’t even try the sweets.”
His mother knelt and placed the back of her hand against his sister’s forehead. With a wrinkled brow she led the little girl away, allowing Bailey an unobstructed view of Molly. Her blond curls were swept up, exposing her delicate but stubborn jaw. Her black brows and lashes framed grateful bluebonnet eyes that turned toward him.
Reverend
Similar Books
