Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Braxton watched Phoebe eat. She was a dainty eater, and he wished she would simply let go and enjoy the meal. The chicken was good. Fried to a crisp golden brown, tender and juicy inside. The mashed potatoes and gravy were good too, almost as good as Ma’s. And the vegetables weren’t overcooked.
When they were finished, he ordered them both a slice of apple pie and coffee.
“Goodness, are you trying to stuff me?” Phoebe asked when Theresa left their table.
“No, but I can tell you’re still hungry. And no one goes hungry while they’re with me.” He watched her closely for a reaction.
Phoebe fidgeted in her seat and dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She’d cleaned her plate, which told him exactly how hungry she’d been. Did she even get breakfast this morning?
When Theresa brought their pie and coffee, Phoebe again tarried as she ate, as though trying to keep herself from going too fast.
“Enjoy it, darlin’. Good food is one of life’s pleasures. It doesn’t hurt that it’s necessary for survival.”
That caught her attention. He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes.
So… she’d known hunger. Food was a necessity of life, but a terrible hardship when one couldn’t get enough of it to survive.
Braxton fought the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. He wanted to reassure her, but how could he? He hadn’t voiced his growing feelings. Partly because he didn’t want to scare her off. Ranch life was hard, and he’d painted a clear picture of what awaited the bride he brought home.
She ate her pie at the same measured pace, but she took bigger bites. It was an improvement.
When they were finished, they lingered over their coffee, then Braxton paid the check. Outside the café, he looked up one side of the street, then the other. “So, where in tarnation is a good place to shop around here?”
“Oh, um, I… I wouldn’t know.” She bit her lower lip and wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“That so? You don’t shop?”
She looked at him, and he had a sneaking suspicion she was forcing herself to. “Um, not really.”
His chest tightened. So no money for shopping either. He’d fix that. “Come on, let’s go this way. Looks like there are shops down here.” Of course, he already knew there were. What he wanted to know was where she liked to shop and if she bought ready-made clothes or made her own.
He thought of the clothes he’d seen her wear. Phoebe’s wardrobe wasn’t careworn, but nothing about it suggested much money either. What she did have was clean, neatly pressed, and well kept. Everything cared for as best she could manage.
“There’s a shop,” she said, pointing ahead.
Sure enough, a dressmaker’s shop was up the street, with a milliner’s shop beside it. Braxton didn’t hesitate. He stepped inside.
A tall, thin woman with gray hair pulled into a severe bun straightened behind the counter. “May I help you?” She eyed them both and made no move to come closer.
“Howdy, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. “I’d like to find a few fripperies for my Ma.”
The woman’s gaze flicked to Phoebe and back. “I see.”
Braxton’s eyes widened. “This ain’t her.”
“I concluded it wasn’t.” The woman came out from behind the counter. “What were you looking for?”
“You know. Lacy stuff.”
Phoebe smiled. “What does your mother like?”
“Lace,” he said simply. “Lots of it.”
Phoebe stepped forward. “Why don’t you show us some nightgowns?” She glanced at Braxton. “With lace.”
The saleswoman looked down her nose at Phoebe. “Very well.”
Braxton had little patience for this sort of thing. He reached into his billfold and pulled out a handful of gold coins. “And anything else you have with lots of lace.”
The woman turned, took one look at the money, and straightened. “Yes, sir.” She hurried behind the counter.
Braxton quickly tucked the money away before Phoebe turned back.
When she did, she cocked her head. “Hmm. She suddenly became attentive.”
He shrugged.
Phoebe let out a long sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
One corner of her mouth curved up. “I never come into places like this. Once they realize you don’t plan to buy anything, or think you can’t afford it, they ignore you and hope you’ll leave.”
“You don’t like shopping,” he said.
“No.”
His protective instincts flared. How dare anyone ignore Phoebe.
The woman returned with several large boxes and a few smaller ones. “What size is your mother, sir?”
Braxton studied her. “She’s built like you, only a bit shorter. And strong as an ox.”
The woman swallowed, her expression pinching. “I see.” She opened one box and lifted out a lovely nightgown. Lace trimmed the collar and sleeves, with tiny blue bows adorning the front.
“That’s beautiful,” Phoebe breathed.
“And warm,” the woman said. She smiled at Braxton. “Is this something your mother would like?”
“It is.” He smiled. “I’ll take it. Set it aside.”
She nodded curtly. “It should fit, given your description.” She reached for another box.
They went through the same routine, Phoebe commenting on fabrics and styles. By the time they finished, Braxton had selected three nightgowns, a robe, and a pair of slippers for his mother.
While the woman wrapped the parcels, Phoebe glanced around the shop. “They have lovely things here.”
He caught her admiring a hat in the window. “Do you like that, Phoebe?”
“Yes,” she breathed, unable to look away. Then she drew in a breath, as if snapping herself free, and smoothed her skirt. “Who wouldn’t?”
Phoebe moved to browse a rack of ready-made dresses. The saleswoman watched Braxton, clearly waiting for this moment.
He pointed toward the hat and stepped closer to the counter. “I’ll be back for the hat,” he said quietly. “Wrap it. I’ll pay for it now.”
The woman smiled. “I’ll see it done.”
“Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, sir.” Her eyes flicked to Phoebe. “It will look lovely on the young lady.”
“I know.”
Braxton joined Phoebe at the dresses. “See anything you like?”
A tiny laugh escaped her. “It doesn’t matter.”
“And if it did?”
She looked at him and sighed. “But it doesn’t.” Phoebe stepped back to examine a display of shoes.
Braxton smiled. He’d make use of the saleswoman when he returned. She’d know what colors and styles would bring out Phoebe’s eyes and complexion.
His heart swelled. He’d see that Phoebe was taken care of. Unfortunately, there were no guarantees she’d let him do it on a permanent basis. What he had to offer might be too much for her to bear.
He gathered up his packages, and they left the shop. “I should take these to my boarding house. It’s that way. Would you accompany me? Then I’ll walk you home.”
“What about returning to the office?”
He shook his head. “We’ll stop in on the way to your place and let the sisters know we’re done for the day.”
“But…”
He stopped and turned to face her. “Phoebe, you need a break.”
She stared up at him. “Well…”
“We both do. The worst is over, and we’ve done everything we can for Augusta, Margaret, and Josie. But they need to learn to manage without us.”
She looked away and nodded slowly.
Braxton watched her a moment, sensing there was more she wanted to say, but he didn’t push. He set off again, keeping his pace slow so she could walk comfortably beside him.
When they reached the office, George bounded across the room the moment they opened the door.
“Oh, what have the two of you been up to?” Margaret asked, beaming. “Shopping?”
“For Braxton’s mother,” Phoebe said. “Christmas presents.”
“How wonderful,” Josie said. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes,” they answered at once.
Braxton laughed. “Thank you for asking. Now, I need to take my packages home, and Phoebe…”
“Has a meeting with us,” Augusta said, grinning. “The matter we discussed?” She gave Phoebe a pointed look.
“Oh, yes.” Phoebe’s gaze flicked between Augusta and Braxton. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Braxton shrugged. “Very well. George, walk?”
George barked enthusiastically.
Braxton laughed and went to fetch the leash. He’d take care of the dog while Phoebe spoke with Augusta. Whatever it was couldn’t take long.
As soon as Braxton took George out, the sisters descended on Phoebe.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Margaret said. “Augusta told us all about it.”
Phoebe turned to Augusta. “You’ve already discussed it?”
“Of course, dear, and we’re all in agreement. We’ll not only hire you on as an assistant, but you’ll stay on after Val returns from Wild Rose Ridge.”
Phoebe’s jaw dropped. “I… I will?”
“Yes. This way we can take all the time we need to find you a suitable husband right here in Chicago,” Augusta said. “We don’t simply send women out west, you know.”
Phoebe pressed a hand to her chest and drew a deep breath. “You’re offering me permanent employment?”
“Didn’t we just say so?” Margaret asked, glancing at the others.
Josie and Augusta nodded. “We did,” Josie confirmed.
Phoebe sidestepped to the nearest chair and sat. “I don’t believe it. This… this is wonderful!”
The sisters exchanged pleased looks. “We thought you’d be happy,” Augusta said.
Tears burned behind Phoebe’s eyes as the reality settled in. They discussed her wages and explained how it would free Val to handle other responsibilities. With what they offered, Phoebe could support herself, remain at Randall’s Boarding House, and even begin saving.
“Thank you so much,” she said, hugging Augusta. “You have no idea how much this helps me.”
“Oh, we have some idea,” Josie said with a wink.
Phoebe didn’t ask what she meant. She was too happy.
She turned away and wiped her eyes. Now she could repay Braxton.
Phoebe took a steadying breath. She’d make arrangements to send the money to him as soon as possible.
Her shoulders sagged. She didn’t want to say goodbye to the tall rancher. She would… miss him.
“Well, now that that’s settled,” Margaret said, “we can make a list of your duties. With Val away, you’ll have more than your fair share. But once she returns, the responsibilities will be divided.”
“And in the meantime,” Josie added, “we’ll find you the perfect groom.”
Phoebe laughed. “Of course you will. And what happens when you do?”
The sisters exchanged glances.
“You keep working, of course,” Josie said. “Unless he doesn’t want you to. But will you?”
“Of course I will.” Phoebe hugged Josie, then Margaret. “I’ve grown fond of you three.”
“And we you, dear,” Augusta said warmly. “Braxton as well. I do wish Miss Poppinstock had suited him, but you’ll be pleased to know we’ve arranged a meeting between her and Mr. Pringle.”
Phoebe cringed at the name and nodded. “Lovely. I’m sure they’ll get along.”
“Oh, of course they will,” Margaret gushed.
They discussed the next day’s work and several upcoming appointments. Phoebe’s heart sank at the mention of the women scheduled to visit. What if Braxton took a fancy to one of them?
Then again, who was she to object? He’d come to Chicago for a bride. If he found one and took her home, the sisters would have done exactly what they set out to do.
She pushed the thought aside as she waited for Braxton and George to return. Now she could support herself. She didn’t need a husband if she didn’t want one.
Her thoughts drifted anyway to children, a house in the country, and Braxton’s ranch. Phoebe shook her head. What was she doing? She had no business imagining herself there. She’d likely faint the first time she had to sit a horse or stand too close to a herd of cattle.
Her heart sank again.
Braxton would find a wife, take her home to Texas, and that would be that. The sooner she accepted it, the better. After all, she wanted a quiet life, didn’t she? With a quiet man who didn’t fuss or preen or…
She frowned. Was quiet the same as boring? Did safe mean dull?
Phoebe wandered to the front windows and searched for Braxton and George. She spotted them crossing the park. Would a husband allow her to keep a dog like George? Would children adore him?
She closed her eyes. This was what she wanted… wasn’t it?
When she opened them again, Braxton and George had reached the street. Braxton must have seen her because he lifted a hand in greeting. She waved back.
The more time she spent with him, the louder her heart protested. It didn’t want a quiet, careful life. It wanted storms and star-filled nights, and a house bursting with laughter and love.
Phoebe closed her eyes once more. She was daydreaming. Nothing more. She wasn’t fit for that kind of life.
So why couldn’t she stop wanting it?