“Sounds delicious.” Corabelle slipped a gloved hand over her mouth as she yawned. “So sorry... I guess I am tired.”
“Show her to your room, sweet pea,” Belinda’s mama said, turning her daughter’s way. “She looks tuckered out. For that matter, you do, too. Maybe you should both catch a few winks before supper.”
Belinda hated to admit it, but it wasn’t exhaustion she was feeling. No, it was sheer terror. But she had to tuck those feelings away, at least for now. She led Corabelle to her room, her mind moving in a thousand different directions at once.
The young woman squealed with delight when she saw the four-poster bed. “Oh, this is lovely, Belinda. Just beautiful!”
“Thank you.” Belinda couldn’t help but smile as she looked at the exquisite handiwork. “Papa made it. He and the boys are wonderful with a lathe. I’ll show you more of their creations later. And Mama made the quilt, of course. She tried to teach me, but I never took to it.”
“I’m quite good with a needle and thread,” Corabelle said. “Perhaps she could teach me.”
“Perhaps. But for now, go ahead and take a nap. I’m sure you are exhausted.”
“What about you?” Corabelle asked as she unbuttoned her shoes. “Aren’t you sleepy?”
“No. I, um...well, I have a few errands to run. I will wake you when I get back. By then it will be suppertime. George will be here to share the meal with us. I’m sure you’re going to adore him.”
“Fine.” Corabelle yawned. “Although right now wooing a man is the furthest thing from my mind. I just need a few hours to rest. Perhaps then I’ll feel differently about things.”
After getting Corabelle settled in, Belinda headed off to the barbershop. She managed to avoid her mother’s questions by slipping out the back door and running across the lawn. The trip to town seemed shorter than ever—something to do with how fast she ran, she was sure. Urgent matters called for urgent actions. And nothing could be more urgent than making sure George Kaufman came to dinner.
***
The heady smell of mint hung in the air inside the barbershop. George finished up with one of his customers—a railroad fella from Terrell—and then turned his attention to cleaning out the mugs. His thoughts traveled back to the young woman he’d seen earlier with Belinda Bauer. He’d never seen such refined beauty...not in this town, anyway. Women like that were few and far between in a place like Poetry. And the ones who did come through usually didn’t stay long...or look twice at him.
But he planned to remedy that. Something about this new girl captivated him. Stirred up his curiosity, at the very least. As he pondered her great beauty—the fancy clothes, the twinkle in her eye—a familiar voice rang out. George turned to see Belinda standing in the open doorway of the barbershop.
“Belinda.” He couldn’t help but smile. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“George, I need to ask a favor.” She took a step inside, wringing her hands.
“A favor?” He shrugged, trying to imagine what she might say. “Of course.”
“Would you come to supper at our house tonight?”
He paused a moment, more curious about the fear in her eyes than the question itself. “Supper? Why?”
“Well...” She paused and seemed a bit flustered. “James is thinking of planting a peach orchard and needs your opinion. Your orchard is the finest in the county.”
“Sure, but if your brother needs my opinion, why not just ask me himself?”
“Yes, I see. You’re right. He could do that himself.” She paused again then looked his way with another explanation. “The twins are old enough to start shaving soon.”
“And?”
“And perhaps they could use some pointers. A razor in the hand of a sixteen-year-old boy could be dangerous. I once heard a story about an inexperienced shaver who did himself mortal harm.”
“Belinda, you don’t seriously expect me to believe you’ve come on behalf of Elijah and Elisha. They would have a fit if they heard what you just said. And besides, I have it on good authority that they’ve been shaving for years.”
“Oh? Perhaps you are right.” She squirmed a bit more. “Well, how about this one? Mother is making peach cobbler and remembered that it’s your favorite. She insisted you share the meal with us. See? You can appease both my mother and my brothers and enjoy a wonderful meal to boot.”
This time, he couldn’t stop the smile. He could always be won over with the words peach cobbler. “What time?”
“Six o’clock.” She turned to leave but turned back. “Oh, and George...?”
“Yes?”
“Wear that blue shirt you wore to church on Sunday. And your mustache could stand a bit of trimming.”
“My blue shirt?” He crossed his arms at his chest and frowned, overcome with suspicion. Surely Belinda Bauer had something up her sleeve. “Why do I need to do that?” He glanced in the mirror, taking in his mustache. “And whyever do I need a trim? My mustache is perfectly fine as it is.”
“We have a special guest staying at our home, so we’re hoping everyone will look—and behave—their best.” She gave what appeared to be a warning look, one he couldn’t yet interpret. “We are hoping to make a wonderful impression on her.”
“Her?” His heart began to race, thinking of the young woman he’d seen with Belinda earlier. For the honey-haired stranger, he would wear his blue shirt and dance a jig. Or, at the very least, comb his unruly hair.
Suddenly he could hardly wait for supper.
CHAPTER FIVE
As soon as Belinda arrived home, she went straight to the kitchen to help Mama with supper. She did her best to answer the questions her mother posed but found herself stumbling over words more than once. The grandfather clock in the parlor gonged six times and Belinda pulled off her apron then rushed to check on their guest. As she rounded the corner into the parlor, the beautiful young woman sashayed down the stairs wearing the most exquisite white dress Belinda had ever seen. She gasped when she saw it. “Oh my goodness! George’s eyes will pop. Truly.”
“Do you think?” Corabelle turned in a circle. “I worked at the loveliest hat and dress shop in New York and saw the finest items, even before the customers did. This dress was perfect for me, especially the lovely trim and white fabric.” She giggled and whispered, “I thought it might double as a wedding dress. I’m pleased you like it.”
“It’s remarkable. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen anything so nice.” At least not around here.
Corabelle offered a gracious smile. “Thank you. I must put my best foot forward tonight when I meet my future husband. I will win him or give my life in the attempt!” She paused to look at her reflection in the mirror on the wall and then turned back with a shrug.
“I daresay, it won’t come to that.” Belinda giggled. “You are a vision of loveliness, and he will see it immediately.”
“So, tell me what I am to expect with George,” Corabelle said, easing her way down onto the settee. “You find him agreeable?”
“In every way.” Belinda paused to think about George as a little boy. In so many ways, he had differed from the other ruffians in her class. He’d always been more kindhearted than most, even then. And now... She smiled, thinking of his daily treks in and out of Poetic Notions. These days, he was known for his caring manner, both with the men who entered his shop and the people at church.
Belinda didn’t have time to think much more about it. When the knock sounded at the door, the twins came bounding down the stairs.
“I’ll get it!” Elijah hollered, nearly tripping over himself to get to the door.
“No, I’ll get it!” Elisha countered, shoving his twin out of the way.
The two began their usual scuffling, one of them finally landing a punch in the other one’s belly.
Belinda rose from her seat and gestured for Corabelle to do the same. The two women moved in the direction of the door. They entered the foyer just as the boys flung the door open. A
very well-groomed George Kaufman stood on the other side, holding his hat in his hands. The twins grunted a hello then disappeared into the kitchen. Belinda could see the interest in George’s eyes as he stepped inside at her bidding.
She did her best to sound professional as introductions were made. How fun it was to realize this was the very first couple she would officially introduce. “George, I’m pleased to introduce our guest, Miss Corabelle Watkins from New York City.”
Corabelle extended her gloved hand, and he took it, planting a light kiss on the back side of it. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Watkins,” he said with a flash of excitement in his eyes. “Indeed, it isn’t every day we get someone from the big city to our fair town. To what do we owe the honor?” He took a seat on the chair across from them, gazing into her eyes.
Belinda cleared her throat as she closed the door, hoping Corabelle would take the hint. It would be better not to say why she’d come to town. Not just yet, anyway.
“Well, I’ve dreamed of coming to Texas for simply ages,” Corabelle said, her eyelashes fluttering shamelessly. “And then I received a letter from Belinda, who extended an invitation. She gave me reason to believe I might like to settle here.” Corabelle’s cheeks turned crimson. “I do hope that turns out to be the case.”
“Indeed.” George looked mighty pleased at this revelation. “But, pray tell, how did you come to write to her, Belinda?” He turned to her, his brow now wrinkled. “I didn’t realize you had friends in New York.”
“Oh, we never met till now,” Corabelle said, before clapping a hand over her mouth. “I—I mean, we only ever exchanged letters.”
He looked more confused than ever. Thankfully, Belinda’s mother entered the room at that very moment with Elijah and Elisha on her heels. “Dinner is ready, everyone. I hope you’re hungry. We’ve cooked enough for half the town.”
As they entered the dining room, James loped in, smelling of lye soap and looking as if he’d had a serious Texas spit-shine. Indeed, Belinda couldn’t ever recall seeing her brother so done-up, even for church. Yes, there was something mighty suspicious about his cleanliness today. And that goofy grin on his face. Even his boots had been polished! What are you thinking, brother?
James took one look at George, and his smile quickly faded. With a brusque nod, he offered up one word: “George.”
George reciprocated with one word: “James.”
They gathered around the dinner table. George fumbled all over himself pulling out Corabelle’s chair but had to nudge James aside to accomplish the feat. The New York beauty gave him a nod then sat. After Papa’s prayer, Mama engaged Corabelle in conversation.
“You must tell us all about your life in New York, darlin’. None of us have ever been out of Kaufman County.”
“Well, of course we have,” Belinda debated, thinking Corabelle might find them all country bumpkins. “We’ve been to Dallas many a time, and Papa has even been to Houston.”
“I have, I have.” Papa nodded and then turned to Corabelle to explain. “My brother works in the oil business in Beaumont, just outside of Houston. He offered me a job at Spindletop, but I refused it.”
“Spindletop?” Corabelle’s eyes grew wide. “Truly? Spindletop has made the papers in New York. Why didn’t you take the family and move there?”
“Move away from heaven to an oilfield?” He laughed. “When I saw those ruffians—heard their language, saw the greed—I said to myself, ‘Poetry is the place for you.’ I might be a small-town man at heart, but my own hometown is truly a slice of heaven. Why go elsewhere?”
Belinda could’ve given her papa a kiss on the cheek right then and there. Surely his words would settle the issue in Corabelle’s heart. If only George would play along. Belinda looked across the table from him and cleared her throat. He took the hint and swallowed a bite of roast beef then turned to their guest with an anxious smile.
“Miss Corabelle, I would be honored to show you around our fair county tomorrow afternoon, if you are so inclined.” His mustache bobbed up and down a bit, probably the result of nerves. “The countryside is lovely, and I happen to know of a beautiful stretch of land with some of the handsomest horses you’ve ever seen.”
“She has already agreed to let me show her the county,” James interjected. “Our plans are set.”
Belinda turned to her brother, astounded. “And when was this decided?”
“Well...” Corabelle giggled. “I came downstairs to fetch a glass of water just before you arrived home from wherever you ran off to today. James and I were standing in the kitchen, looking through that little window onto the lovely wildflowers outside. When I commented on them, he offered to take me on a little drive in the wagon tomorrow.” She flashed a warm smile in James’s direction and his gaze shifted downward.
“We’re going midmorning, though,” he said. “Afternoon’s too hot.”
“Indeed. Isn’t he sweet, to take the weather into consideration?” Corabelle gave him a look of longing, and Belinda’s heart settled into her toes. This would never do...but how could she fix it now? She peered at George, hoping he would say something, but he did not. Instead, he sighed and returned to his food, as if that had been the real reason for his visit.
“Corabelle is interested in opening a shop in town,” James said. “We talked about it at length, so I’ve agreed to take her into town to look around for a piece of property.”
“W–what?” Belinda looked at her new friend, flabbergasted. “You’re opening a shop?”
“Perhaps,” Corabelle said, dabbing the corners of her mouth delicately. “As we drove through town earlier, I had the loveliest idea for a hat shop...fitting to such a poetic place. I do hope you all like my idea.”
“Oh?” Mama looked her way, curiosity etched on her face. “And what is that?”
“Sonnets and Bonnets.” Corabelle giggled. “Don’t you love it?” She turned to James with an admiring look. “James thought it was a simply wonderful idea.”
“But, dear...are you not looking for a husband?” Mama paled. “Once you marry, you couldn’t keep the shop.”
“Forevermore.” Corabelle let her napkin fall to the table and looked at Mama, her face turning pale. “Why not?”
Mama began to fan herself. “Working after marriage? Why, it’s simply not done. Women marry to become mothers...to raise their children. Many work before marriage—like Belinda, here—but when the vows are shared, the workload shifts to the home.”
“Perhaps where you come from.” Corabelle retrieved her napkin and spread it in her lap. “But that’s not a city notion. In New York, several of the shops are run by married women. Many are quite famous. I enjoy my work. Always have and always will. No doubt I will go on working after marriage for as long as I please.”
Mama’s gaze shifted down as she took a bite of her pot roast.
“I, for one, find her work ethic admirable.” James grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. He paused, his gaze firmly locked onto Corabelle’s. A rosy color spread across his cheeks, and he gave a boyish smile. “And I think the idea of the hat shop is perfect. Just what the town needs.”
Corabelle turned her attention to George.
“And what about you, George? What do you say on the matter?”
“I say that...” He paused, tugged at his collar, and then shrugged. “I say this is a matter for prayer.”
“Indeed,” Belinda said with a nod. Finally, someone with a bit of logic. “I agree wholeheartedly. And in the meantime, let’s all share a story about Poetry, something to make our guest feel welcome.”
She turned her attention to redirecting the conversation. Surely the Lord could make sense of all of this...with a little time and a lot of prayer.
***
George looked across the table, not at Corabelle, whose attentions were given over to James, but to Belinda. While he sensed her frustration with the situation, George couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed. Had she—or had she not
—implied that Corabelle might be available for courting?
Looking at James, George came to the very short conclusion that James would carry this thing through till the very end. Still, he couldn’t give up on the idea that he should try to woo Corabelle, as well. Belinda would help him. She seemed to know a lot about such things. From the time they were in school together, she’d played the role of matchmaker. And several of her matches had actually led to happy endings. Take their childhood friends, Mary Lou and Tad, for example. Belinda had done a fine job of pairing them up. Were they not happily married with a baby on the way?
Yes, this would simply take a bit more work. But with Belinda at his side and the Lord smiling on, George would surely accomplish the task.
CHAPTER SIX
On the Sunday after Corabelle’s arrival, the local Presbyterian congregation held a picnic on the grounds after the morning service. Belinda settled onto a quilt with her mother and the twins, looking about for Corabelle and James. They’d been missing for ten minutes, at least. How was Belinda supposed to shift her new friend’s attentions to George if she kept disappearing with James?
Belinda reached for her fan, overcome by the heat. These midsummer picnics were a great idea in theory, but the heat often altered the mood of those in attendance, especially on days like today when the temperature soared into the upper 90s. Belinda watched as her papa brought the picnic basket from the wagon and set it on the colorful quilt. She scooted over to help Mama pour some lemonade. Settling back she took a long, cool drink, enjoying its tangy sweetness.
A few minutes later, George appeared, looking quite dapper in his Sunday suit and hat. My, but he looked especially handsome. The better to win the lady with. He eased himself down onto the blanket next to Belinda, his gaze darting across the church lawn. She knew, of course, who he was looking for.
“So...”