Lucky Penny (43 page)

Read Lucky Penny Online

Authors: Catherine Anderson

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: Lucky Penny
4.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Just for the record, no matter how this shakes out, I’ll never deny you the right to be with our child,” he told her. “I know how dear she is to you. I’d never take her away from you.”

She tipped her head to regard Daphne at the table. “In some ways, David, you’re already doing that,” she whispered.

“Doing what?”

“Taking her away.” Her eyes glistened with tears when she met his gaze again. “She already loves you so, and your family is so wonderful. Ever since her birth, it’s been only she and I. I was always the center of her world. Now . . .” She smiled tremulously and shrugged. “Now I feel like someone standing backstage.”

David’s heart caught. “That isn’t so. She loves me, yes, and she’s coming to love my family as well, but that takes nothing away from her love for you.”

“Perhaps not, but it does drastically alter her relationship with me. Don’t think I resent it, David, because I don’t. I’ve always wished that Daphne could have a family. I couldn’t give her one. You have. I’m not so selfish as to not be happy for her.”

David’s throat went tight. “I’m sorry you didn’t have that as a kid.”

“Ah, well, I did all right. I had many mothers to love me, and each of them, in her way, loved me very well.”

The nuns again, he thought. Before, her references to the orphanage had infuriated him, but now he was no longer quite so sure that part of her story was a lie. “You have my family now. If we make this marriage work, you’ll never be without family again.”

She studied him for a long while, until the silence became taut and uncomfortable. Finally she said, “As tempting as your offer may be, I am not so selfish as to do that to you. You’ve dealt honestly and fairly with me, David. You nearly died to protect me and my child. How can I do anything less than deal honestly and fairly with you?”

After a wonderful supper, David cleaned the kitchen while Brianna got Daphne ready for bed. When the child was tucked in, David dried his hands and went to sit on the edge of her mattress to tell her a story and kiss her good night. Having learned his lesson about the uncomfortable mix of spooky tales and six-year-old girls, David conjured up a memory from his childhood when Eden had taken a walk in the woods near their house and gone missing. Daphne clung to his every word.

“And so you found her, safe and sound?” she asked.

“We did. Your grandma Dory spent hours with brush and comb to get all the sticks and tangles out of her curly red hair, but she was safe, and after that, she never took off into the woods without one of us boys.”

“When you describe Aunt Eden, she sounds like Aunt Caitlin. Do they look alike?”

David drew the covers up to Daphne’s chin. “They look amazingly alike, and well they should because they’re half sisters.”

Daphne frowned. “Then you’re related to Caitlin?”

David realized he had waded into water too deep for a child. “Nope. Caitlin is related to Eden, but not to the rest of us.” At Daphne’s frown, he laughed and forestalled any more questions by saying, “When you’re older, I’ll tell you that story, but it isn’t one you’ll hear tonight.”

“How old will I have to be?”

With a smile, David said, “Oh, I don’t know. A lot older than you are right now. How’s that?”

He found Brianna waiting for him in the dining room when he reached the end of the hall. She sat with her arms folded primly atop the table, her slender hands tucked against her forearms. How often had he seen the nuns in San Francisco hold their hands just that way, hidden under the winglike sleeves of their habits?

He took a chair across from her. He had deliberately postponed giving her any more details about purchasing the dress shop, hoping—foolishly, he guessed—that spending the evening together as a family might change her mind. He sensed that she yearned to stay there, but for reasons beyond him, she refused to do it.

David had things he needed to talk with Brianna about, most important the story he and Ace had cooked up to explain David’s coming home with a wife and six-year-old child, but he decided that could simmer until they actually moved into town. Instead he broached the subject he knew was of more interest to Brianna right then. “I reckon you’re anxious to hear more about the shop?”

Behind her, the fire snapped and crackled in the hearth, forming a halo of flickering amber around her dark hair. “I am, yes.”

David shifted to get more comfortable. “The long and short of it is, you can probably take over day after tomorrow. Clarissa wants to sell everything—the stock and equipment, the upstairs furniture, even the dishes and bed linens. She wants to walk out with only her personal things, clothing, toiletries, and family mementos. Her price is reasonable, and I have plenty in the bank to cash her out. She’ll sign over the deed to everything in front of a notary public, and then it’ll be yours. You can move in with your personal things and be ready for business the next morning.”

Brianna shook her head. “I’d like a separate contract to be drawn up, David. I can’t accept the shop as a gift from you. I’ll want to make monthly payments to you, with the going rate of interest included, so the shop will one day be rightfully mine.”

David hadn’t seen that coming, but when he considered how prideful Brianna was, he could only wonder why he hadn’t. “All right. I’d prefer it to be a personal contract, drawn up privately between us and signed and countersigned behind closed doors. In the eyes of the townsfolk, we’re married. It’ll raise eyebrows if it’s public knowledge that you’re buying the shop from me.”

She considered that idea for a second, and then nodded. “I trust you. A private contract will suffice.” She drew in a shaky breath and slowly released it. “This is a longtime dream of mine, you know. I’ve always wanted to have my own dress shop.”

The tension eased from David’s shoulders at the reminder. Until now, he’d been thinking of the dress shop as a final blow to any possibility of a real marriage between them, but since it had always been her dream, he could never deny her the experience, marriage or no. Eden was as fast and accurate with a gun as David was, and though he and his brothers had always sought to shelter and protect her, they’d also realized long ago that she was a filly who would always fight against too much coddling and control. David had nothing against strong-willed, self-sufficient women. He’d be proud to have a wife who was a successful businesswoman.

“Are you excited about it?” he asked.

Brianna’s eyes took on a sparkle as she considered the question. “Excited, yes, and nervous as well. I want to design, David. I want wealthy women as customers who will demand gowns that are high quality, different, and on the cutting edge of fashion.”

David knew there weren’t enough wealthy women in No Name to support such an aspiration, but there were plenty in Denver. “Are you that good?”

She met his gaze. “I believe I am.”

“Well, then, we’ll need to advertise your talent in Denver.
Thanks to Ace, the railroad spur from there to here offers plush passenger travel. If we court the right ladies, they can travel here in style for fittings and be home that same night.”

“We?”

David chuckled and held up his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t interfere in the designing and sewing. But I do have a good head for business, and as your pretend husband, I don’t mind offering my expertise. You’ll need to branch out to a richer customer base. From what you say, I gather you’d like to be famous someday.”

Her eyes went dreamy. “Famous, yes. Brianna Paxton originals will be coveted, and women will pay high prices for them.”

“Well, honey, I think you’re on your way. Tomorrow the shop will be yours. The rest will be up to you.”

Chapter Eighteen
 

B

rianna loved the dress shop. It was on the same side of the street and only three doors down from the marshal’s office. Right next door was a milliner’s shop, the proprietress an aging lady named Beatrice Masterson who wasn’t quite ready to retire but might be soon. That would give Brianna a chance to buy her shop, knock out the adjoining wall, and have a truly spectacular business space.

Ah, but for now, she was so excited with the present shop that she would have spun in circles if not for the presence of David and Clarissa Denny, who was walking her through the downstairs area. Clarissa was a slender lady, around sixty, with graying brown hair and gentle blue eyes.

“As you can see, I’ve invested in the newest and latest that Singer has to offer, including a ruffle attachment on this machine.” She ran her fingertips lovingly over the hand-carved case as she lifted the lid to display the equipment. “The one upstairs is the same model, but I haven’t yet invested in a ruffle attachment for it.” She turned from the work cubicle to show Brianna the display rods, the glass cases, and the dressing rooms, which sported three-way mirrors so customers could admire their new gowns from all angles. “Over there,” Clarissa said, pointing to two cushioned armchairs, “is where husbands sit to view the finished products, or to simply be a part of it all when we’re selecting colors, styles, and types of cloth.”

Smiling, the older woman flipped a wall switch. “And you have electric lighting down here. It will be costly to wire the upstairs, so I was saving back for that. Perhaps
you’ll do well enough to take care of that soon. The clarity of light is so much better with electricity. It blinks once in a while, but mostly only at night when others in town are using the current, too. Mostly it’s steady and bright.” She pointed to a rear exit. “I do my wash in the back dooryard, weather allowing. In the winter, I bundle up my soiled things and take them up the street to Dorothy Chandler, a dear lady who also has the candle shop. Her husband is the town chimney sweep. An enterprising couple, the Chandlers. Jesse helps Dorothy in the laundry, and they do a fine job, in my opinion, for a fair price.”

Brianna grabbed Daphne’s hand as they ascended the stairs behind Mrs. Denny to see the living quarters. David’s boots resounded on the steps just behind them. Clarissa opened the door at the landing and led the way into a spacious kitchen. A round oak table, placed in front of a window that overlooked Main Street, was draped with a pristine white tablecloth. A blue-patterned cream pitcher and sugar bowl flanked a narrow stem vase that contained a single silk rose. Frilly curtains hung in graceful swags across a solid pull-down blind that was presently rolled up to let in the sunlight.

Brianna took in the white cabinetry, the cookstove, and a large deep sink with faucets, which told her hot and cold water had been piped in. She fell instantly in love. The sitting room was small but adequate and beautifully appointed with a horsehair settee, two matching chairs that shared an ottoman, and gleaming cherry tables draped with tatted lace. The fireplace at one side of the room was faced with red brick and topped by a thick oak mantel. Never in Brianna’s wildest dreams had she hoped to live anywhere so perfect. Small, yes, but ever so cozy and nicely decorated, and it even had a water closet—nothing so grand as David’s, but serviceable, with a washstand, flushable commode, and space in one corner for an aluminum bathtub.

“It’s lovely,” Brianna said. “It must break your heart to leave here, especially with all your personal touches remaining behind.”

“I want to travel light,” Clarissa said. “If I took everything dear to me, I’d need several large trunks. And, quite
honestly, I hope to live with my elder son. All my things would be superfluous, and I’d probably just have to sell them. I can’t be bothered.”

Daphne ran around the kitchen, opening lower cupboard doors. “Mama, there’s pots and pans and all manner of things!”

“Daphne, mind your manners. Those are Mrs. Denny’s things for now.”

“Only for now,” Clarissa rejoined with a laugh. “And I will not for a second regret my departure. Not that it hasn’t been a wonderful place and served me well for years, but it’s time now for me to move on. I lost my dear husband ten years ago. My boys are in California. At this age, I yearn to live near them and my grandchildren.” She chuckled and rubbed her palms together. “I’m already packed to leave!”

Brianna laughed with her. “It appears, Mrs. Denny, that the end of your dream is the beginning of mine!”

“And mine!” Daphne cried. “A dress shop, Mama. Your very own dress shop!”

“Clarissa,” the older woman corrected, directing her gaze at Brianna. “I’m old, but I’m not
that
old.” She led the way to the bedrooms, which were situated at the back side of the kitchen. They were small but, like the rest of the apartment, decorated with thought and care. Brianna instantly decided that the one done in shades of rose with floral print wallpaper would be Daphne’s. “Well, young woman?” Clarissa eyed her expectantly. “Will I be catching the train for Denver this afternoon, or do you need more time to think about it?”

Brianna had barely been aware of David until then. He stood in the doorway behind her, one muscular shoulder resting against the jam. The toothpick he clenched between his teeth jutted out from one corner of his firm mouth. When she searched his gaze, he winked at her. “It’s your decision, not mine. If you’re ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work, I’m ready to write out a draft and call it done.”

Brianna turned back to Mrs. Denny. “Godspeed on your journey to California, Clarissa. I’ll take it!”

*  *  *

 

Forty minutes later, David followed Clarissa Denny, his wife, and Daphne from the bank out onto the boardwalk. As Clarissa said farewell with hurried hugs and handshakes, anxious to catch the train, David fingered the deed to the dress shop, eager to present it to Brianna with a flourish.

When the elder woman dashed away, however, Brianna waved a hand and refused to accept the document. “Not until we’ve drawn up our own contract, David.”

“Oh, bullshit.” He winced as the word slipped out. He’d been working really hard at cleaning up his mouth around Daphne. “You’re taking stubbornness a bit too far. We’ll do that over the next couple of days, I assure you, but for today, it’s time to celebrate!” He stuffed the papers into her hand and pressed her slender fingers around them. “You own a dress shop, Shamrock! And it comes with a really nice living area. For once in your life, can’t you just let loose and shriek with happiness?”

Other books

Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges
Baghdad Fixer by Prusher, Ilene
A Shade of Kiev 3 by Bella Forrest
Clockwork Captive by Leod, Anh
The Course of Honour by Lindsey Davis
Bad Storm by Jackie Sexton
The Alpha Chronicles by Joe Nobody