Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas (15 page)

“Indeed, they did not. And I can assure you, the other women each have a story, as well. We can’t very well sum up our lives in a few lines, any more than the men can sum up theirs in a love poem. Our stories are longer, more complex. They have their ups and downs and probably a few tears along the way.”

Belinda rose and moved to Sarah Jo’s side. “Thank you for telling me all of that.”

“Well, there’s one more thing, if you don’t mind my saying it.”

“What’s that?”

“I know my Kelly Jo would have been a little older than you are now, but I’d like to think she would have turned out as lovely as you. When I see you, I think of her. I can’t seem to help myself.”

Belinda’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Well, honey, you’re long overdue, then, for you are truly one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met.” Sarah Jo winked. “And if a certain fella hasn’t figured that out yet, then I daresay he’s deaf, dumb,
and
blind.”

She gave a little wink and Belinda’s heart tumbled to her toes. Surely she didn’t mean...certainly she wasn’t talking about...Georg?

They ended their conversation and Belinda returned to her work. All afternoon, she thought about Sarah Jo’s story. She was right, of course. Every one of those women had her own tale. And each carried secret joys and pains. Marta, for instance. Surely she had a story. The worry lines on her forehead said as much. Perhaps, with a little nudging, Belinda could get her to open up. Maybe then she could ease the guilt of mismatching her with Myles Lott.

As the evening shadows fell, Belinda rushed to finish her work. She wanted to head home for supper. Mama was making chicken and dumplings tonight, one of her favorites. As she left the store and made her way down the boardwalk, Belinda couldn’t help but gasp. There, on the other side of the glass in the town’s restaurant, she laid eyes on Reverend Billingsley...and a woman. And not just any woman. Oh, no. The good reverend appeared to be having dinner with Marta Schuller! Right there in plain sight!

Hmm. Perhaps the dear woman needed his counsel. She was, after all, quite disappointed with how the situation had ended with Myles.

Only, she didn’t look disappointed. No, Belinda had to admit while looking through the window, Marta did not look disappointed at all. In fact, she appeared just the opposite. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed as the pastor spoke. Marta took a bite of her steak then dabbed at her lips with her napkin, but she never took her eyes off Reverend Billingsley.

Wonder of wonders. Could it be? Belinda stopped to contemplate the possibilities as she turned toward home. At once, she began to pray. “Lord, You are, indeed, a miracle worker! Your hand was at work in this, after all. You did have a bride for the pastor. Just not the woman I thought.” She paused a moment and then added, “Now, Lord, about Sarah Jo...”

She never had a chance to finish. At that moment, Peter came running out of his shop with the fiery redhead on his tail. Belinda stopped in her tracks, laughter emanating from the deepest places within her without restraint. Oh, how she laughed. One of these days Sarah Jo might actually catch Peter Conrad. In the meantime, it was surely fun to watch her try!

Georg looked out of the barbershop window, smiling as he caught a glimpse of Belinda laughing at Sarah Jo and Peter. He stood, captivated, watching her. Her cheeks were a nice rosy color as she laughed, and as she leaned forward, her pinned-up hair tumbled around her shoulders in golden waves. His breath caught in his throat. Georg wanted to take a step outside to ask what was so funny, but he got the answer to his question when Peter Conrad came bolting into his shop.

“She—wouldn’t—dare—come—in—here!” Peter dove into one of the barber’s chairs and opened a newspaper, covering his face.

“Actually, Peter, I was just closing up shop for the day.” Georg didn’t have a chance to finish his explanation before Sarah Jo Cummings appeared at the door.

“Oh, Georg!” she called out. “I do wonder if you would be so kind as to ask that handsome man in the chair to come out and speak with me.”

“I’m busy, woman,” Peter said. He gestured for Georg to grab a razor, and Georg flew into action at once.

“Shave or haircut, Peter?”

“Both.”

“Both?” Georg leaned down and whispered, “I can’t tell if you’re pretending or if you’re serious. You really want a shave and a haircut?”

Peter spoke through clenched teeth. “If it will keep that woman from chasing me all over town, yes. A shave and a haircut.”

“Oh, but Peter!” Sarah Jo’s voice rang out. “You can’t cut your hair! Why, it could turn out like that tragic story in the Bible. You know the one?”

“Samson?” Georg interjected.

“Yes. He cut off his hair, and you know what happened next. He lost all of his strength.”

“I’ve already lost it, woman!” Peter hollered back. “You’ve drained every ounce out of me. Now, if you don’t mind, I really need some time to myself.”

“But I need to speak with you.” Sarah Jo rambled on—something about
Romeo and Juliet
. Something about Frederick Shakespeare. But Georg never really heard the particulars. He was too overcome by Peter’s impulsive decision to shave and cut his hair. And intrigued, as well. No one had seen Peter clean-shaven for thirty years. What sort of transformation were they talking about here?

He went to work, starting first with the hair. Before he took the first cut, Georg whispered, “You’re sure about this?”

“Sure as I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

Sarah Jo watched in rapt awe from the doorway, finally disappearing from view when the pastor and Marta happened by in conversation with the mayor. Georg could still hear her voice ringing as she moved away from the store.

Peter whispered the words “Good riddance” and then focused on the mirror.

Georg drew in a deep breath and then clipped away the first long piece of hair. Then the second. Then the third. Within minutes, he worked skillfully to bring shape to what was left of the man’s hair. Turned out, the salt-and-pepper strands looked mighty nice short. Mighty nice.

Now to deal with that scraggly beard. He’d imagined cutting it dozens of times before but never thought he’d have the honor. Now that the opportunity had presented itself, he could hardly think where to begin.

“Take it off, Georg.” Peter stared at his reflection in the mirror, lips pursed. “All of it. No arguments, now.”

“Even the mustache?”

“No.” Peter fingered his bushy mustache and appeared to be deep in thought. “Leave it. Just trim ’er back a bit.”

Georg did as he was told, though it took awhile to accomplish the task. When he finished, both he and Peter stared in awe at the mirror. The transformation was unbelievable. Underneath that rough, hairy exterior, a handsome, clean-cut man resided. It made Georg wonder what Peter had been hiding from all these years. He also couldn’t help but wonder about Sarah Jo’s Samson comment. Would the strong, confident Peter Conrad crumble like a wilted flower without his hair to protect him?

Georg never had the chance to voice his thoughts. The second the haircut and shave ended, Peter sprang from his seat, tossed a few coins Georg’s way, then headed for the door. Georg grabbed a rag, following behind him, pretending to wipe down the store’s windows. In truth, he wanted to see how this might end.

Peter didn’t make it three paces into the street before Sarah Jo’s squealing voice rang out. “As I live and breathe! Why, forget everything I said back there about Samson! You are the handsomest man I’ve ever clamped eyes on!” She turned away from Marta, the reverend, and the mayor and focused all of her attention on Peter, who headed up the road toward his house.

Mayor Mueller headed Georg’s way. “I’m not sure I would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Whatever possessed him to do it?”

“I haven’t got a clue.” Georg shook his head. “Maybe he thought it would act as a deterrent, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. Looks like Delilah got to him.”

“Delilah?” The mayor looked puzzled.

“Ah, never mind.” Georg chuckled. Maybe he could explain later.

“Any logical man would’ve known that a woman prefers the clean-cut look,” Mayor Mueller said, shaking his head. “If you ask me, he was asking for it.”

“Asking for it?” Georg shrugged, not quite understanding. “Asking for what?”

The mayor gestured to Sarah Jo. “Asking for it, that’s all.” He turned and walked away, chuckling all the while.

Georg pondered the mayor’s statement for a moment. Was it possible Peter was secretly enamored with Sarah Jo? Had he cleaned himself up to seal the deal? Though it seemed preposterous at first glance, stranger things had happened, especially lately.

And speaking of stranger things... Georg shifted his attention to Reverend Billingsley, who stood on the boardwalk, deeply engaged in conversation with Marta Schuller. The look of pure joy on the reverend’s face spoke volumes. In fact, Georg couldn’t ever remember seeing the man so content.

For whatever reason, seeing the two of them together made Georg feel a little wistful. Not sad, really. But every day, with each new match, he secretly longed for the one thing he insisted he did not need. A wife. Yes, he could argue the point all day with Belinda, but in the end he had to admit the truth, if to no one but himself.

He needed—and wanted—a wife. Someone to greet him at the end of each tiring day. Someone to laugh with, to share stories with. Someone he could bring flowers to and perhaps even write a poem for. Someone who would understand his dry sense of humor and not laugh at his wardrobe choices. In short, someone who would love him just the way he was. Day in and day out. Year after year.

The more Georg thought about this possibility, the more real it became. Perhaps Belinda had been right all along. Maybe he shouldn’t have given up on the idea of bringing in a bride from out of state. Yes, perhaps he’d jumped the gun in saying she should stop looking. Look how well it had worked for the others. Prissy and Charlie were happy as larks. And Georg didn’t know when he’d ever seen Bucky Williams more at peace. Samuel Bromstead and the widow Hanson had been seen taking a stroll through town earlier in the day...hand in hand. Why, even the reverend and Marta appeared to be matched. And Corabelle and James? Much as Georg hated to admit it, they were perfect for each other.

He dropped down onto the bench, watching as Reverend Billingsley and Marta rounded the corner together, with the reverend’s hand on Marta’s back. What would it be like to have a woman reach for your hand? To slide your arm around a woman’s waist and escort her through town? What would it feel like to have someone greet you at the door every evening and kiss you good-bye in the morning?

For some reason, every time he thought about any of those things, the only hand he could envision in his own...was Belinda’s. The thought of this so startled him that he couldn’t think straight for a moment. Was it possible he’d really fallen for her and not known it?

Georg quickly reached for his broom then headed inside, trying to act as if everything was normal. On the inside, however, he wondered if he would ever feel normal again.

In the weeks following Peter’s physical transformation, Georg wrestled with his aching heart. Oh, how he longed to deny the obvious, but he could not. By the end of the second week, after several restless nights, he came to a conclusion that should have been clear from the beginning. He didn’t need a mail-order bride. Never had. Never would. He needed—and wanted—Belinda Bauer. Wanted her kiss first thing in the morning. Wanted her smile to greet him after a long day’s work. Wanted to hear her laugh at his jokes and reach for his hand as they walked down Main Street. He suddenly wanted the one thing he’d never even known he wanted...until now.

This revelation both terrified and thrilled him. Now if only he could manage to convey his thoughts in a way that would not terrify her, then all would be well.

Bright and early on a Thursday morning, Georg worked up the courage to visit Belinda at Poetic Notions. All night long he’d wrestled with the sheets. Every time he thought about sharing his feelings with Belinda, he felt ill. Nerves, most likely. As a result of his wrestling, Georg had awakened feeling stiff and sore...but still very much enamored with Belinda Bauer. And now that this fact was clear in his mind, he had to know if she felt the same.