“Sarah.” Liza danced around the counter of the dry goods store to take both of her hands. “Oh, what a wonderful dress. Every woman in town’s going to want one like it.”
“I was hoping to tempt them.” Laughing, Sarah turned in a circle. “It’s one of my favorites.” “I can see why. Is everything all right with you? I haven’t been able to get away for days.”
“Everything’s fine. There’s been no more trouble.”
She wandered over to take a look at the bolts of fabric. “I’m certain it was just an isolated incident. As the sheriff said, it must have been drifters.” Glancing over, she smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Cody,” she said as Liza’s mother came in from the stockroom.
“Sarah, it’s nice to see you, and looking so pretty, too.”
“Thank you. I’ve brought your dress.”
“Well, that was quick work.” Anne Cody took the package in her wide, capable hands and went immediately to the cash drawer.
“Oh, I don’t want you to pay for it until you look and make sure it’s what you wanted.”
Anne smiled, showing dimples like her daughter’s. “That’s good business. My Ed would say you’ve got a head on your shoulders. Let’s just take a look, then.” As she unwrapped the package, two of her customers moved closer to watch.
“Why, Sarah, it’s lovely.” Clearly pleased, Anne held it up. The dress was dove gray, simple enough to wear for work behind the counter, yet flatteringly feminine, with touches of lace at the throat and sleeves. “My goodness, honey, you’ve a fine hand with a needle.” Deliberately she moved from behind the counter so that the rest of her customers could get the full effect. “Look at this work, Mrs. Miller. I’ll swear you won’t see better.”
Grinning, Liza leaned over to whisper in Sarah’s ear. “She’ll have a dozen orders for you in no time.
Pa always says Ma could sell a legless man new boots.”
“Here you are, Sarah.” Anne passed her the money.
“It’s more than worth every penny.”
“Young lady.” Mrs. Miller peered through her spectacles at the stitches in Anne’s new dress. “I’m going to visit my sister in Kansas City next month. I think a traveling suit of this same fabric would be flattering to me.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am.” Sarah beamed, ignoring the fact that very little would be flattering to Mrs. Miller’s bulky figure. “You have a good eye for color. This fabric trimmed in purple would be stunning on you.” By the time she was finished, Sarah had three more orders and an armful of fabric. With one hand muffling her giggles, Liza walked out with her. “Imagine you talking that old fuddy-duddy Mrs. Miller into two dresses.”
“She wants to outshine her sister. I’ll have to make sure she does.”
“It won’t be easy, considering what you have to work with. And she’s overcharging you for those chicks.”
“That’s all right.” Sarah turned with a grin. “I’m going to overcharge her for the dresses. Do you have time to walk with me? I’d like to go down and see if this blue-and-white stripe takes Mrs. O’Rourke’s fancy.”
They started down the walkway. After only a few steps, Liza stopped and swept her skirts aside. Sarah watched the statuesque woman approach. In all her life she’d never seen hair that color. It gleamed like the brass knob on Mother Superior’s office door. The vivid blue silk dress she wore was too snug at the bodice and entirely too low for day wear. Smooth white breasts rose out of it, the left one adorned with a small beauty mark that matched another at the corner of her -red lips. She carried an unfurled parasol and strolled, her hips swaying shamelessly.
As she came shoulder-to-shoulder with Sarah, the woman stopped and looked her up and down. The tiny smile she wore became a smirk as she walked oh, rolling her hips.
“My goodness.” Sarah could think of little else to say as she rubbed her nose. The woman’s perfume remained stubbornly behind.
“That was Carlotta. She runs the Silver Star.”
“She looks…extraordinary.”
“Well, she’s a-you know.”
“A what?”
“A woman of ill repute,” Liza said in a whisper.
“Oh.” Sarah’s eyes grew huge. She’d heard, of course. Even in Philadelphia one heard of such women. But to actually pass one on the street… “Oh, my. I wonder why she looked at me that way.”
“Probably because Jake Redman’s been out your way a couple times. Jake’s a real favorite with Carlotta.”
She shut her mouth tight. If her mother heard her talking that way she’d be skinned alive.
“I should have known.” With a toss of her head
Sarah started to walk again. For the life of her she didn’t know why she felt so much like crying.
Mrs. O’Rourke greeted her with pleasure. Not only had it been a year since she’d had a new dress, she was determined to know all there was to know about the woman who was keeping Jake so churned up.
“I thought you might like this striped material, Mrs.
O’Rourke.”
“It’s right nice.” Maggie fingered the cotton with a large, reddened hand. “No doubt it’ll make up pretty. Michael…my first husband was Michael Bailey, he was partial to a pretty dress. Died young, did Michael. Got a little drunk and took the wrong horse. Hung him for a horse thief before he sobered up.” Not certain what response was proper, Sarah murmured something inaudible. “I’m sure the colors would flatter you.”
Maggie let out a bray of laughter. “Girl, I’m past the age where I care about being flattered. Buried me two husbands. Mr. O’Rourke, rest his soul, was hit by lightning back in ‘63. The good Lord doesn’t always protect fools and drunkards, you know. Save me, I’m not in the market for another one. The only reason a woman decks herself out is to catch a man or keep one.” She ran her shrewd eyes over Sarah. “Now you’ve got a rig on this day, you do.”
Deciding to take the remark as a compliment, Sarah offered a small smile. “Thank you. If you’d prefer something else, I could-” “I wasn’t saying I didn’t like the goods.”
“Sarah can make you a very serviceable dress, Mrs. O’Rourke,” Liza put in. “My ma’s real pleased with hers. Mrs. Miller’s having her make up two for her trip to Kansas City.”
“That so?” Maggie knew what a pinchpenny the Miller woman was. “I reckon I could do with a new dress. Nothing fancy, mind. I don’t want any of my boarders getting ideas in their heads.” She let out a cackle.
“If a man got ideas about you, Maggie, he’d lose them quick enough after a bowl of your stew.”
Sarah’s fingers curled into her palms when she heard Jake’s voice. Slowly, her body braced, she turned to face him. He was halfway down the stairs. “Some men want something more from a woman than a bowl of stew,” Maggie told him, and cackled again. “You ladies want to be wary of a man who smiles like that,” she added, pointing a finger at Jake. “I ought to know, since I married two of them.” As she spoke, she watched the way Jake and Sarah looked at each other. Someone had lit a fire there, she decided. She wouldn’t mind fanning it a bit. “Liza, all this talk about cooking reminds me. I need another ten pounds of flour. Run on up and fetch it for me. Have your ma put it on my account.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Anxious to be off, Sarah picked up the bolt of material again. “I’ll get started on this right away, Mrs. O’Rourke.”
“Hold on a minute. I’ve got a dress upstairs you can use for measuring. Needs some mending, too. I’m no hand with a needle. Liza, I can use two pounds of coffee.” She motioned at the girl with the back of her hand. “Go on, off with you.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” Liza promised as she walked out the door. Pleased with her maneuvering, Maggie started up the stairs.
“You’re about as subtle as a load of buckshot,” Jake murmured to her.
With the material still in her hands, Sarah watched Jake approach her. Though she was standing in the center of the room, she had the oddest sensation that her back was against the wall. He was staring at her in that way he had that made her stomach flutter and her knees shake. She promised herself that if he touched her, if he even looked as though he might touch her, she would slap him hard enough to knock his hat off.