The Bachelor Tax. Carolyn Davidson

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      Chapter Two

      “Rosemary, much as I’d like to take you on, the store just doesn’t need another helping hand.”

      Rosemary sighed deeply, as if she were sorely disappointed. And so she was, having just been refused work in the Edgewood Mercantile. Not that she felt equipped for the position. It was just that she wasn’t well equipped for much of anything outside a home. Keeping a parsonage neat and clean and ironing white shirts at the rate of seven a week for her father had not served to prepare her for the indignity of looking for a position.

      “Maybe you can stay on and be a nursemaid to the new preacher’s little ones,” Phillipa Boone suggested. She sat atop her high stool in a rare moment of relaxation, eyeing the woebegone expression on Rosemary Gibson’s face.

      Rosemary looked around the mercantile and sighed. At least there was no one else in the store to share in this moment of shame. To be turned down for her first job application was grating on her pride. Thank goodness Pip was a friend, else the embarrassment would have been unbearable.

      “I doubt the new minister can afford to hire me. He looks about as penniless as the rest of his kind. And I ought to know, having lived in a parsonage all of my life.”

      Glumly, she eyed the colorful display of fabrics on the counter before her. “And I can’t, in all good conscience, buy myself anything but dark colors for the next year. Papa wasn’t much one for mourning clothes, but my own self-respect is going to limit me.” She ran her fingers over a particularly bright floral print. “Not that I can afford anything new anyway.”

      Pip Boone slid from her perch and leaned across the width of the counter. “You could always marry Gabe Tanner. He did ask, after all.” The challenge was whispered, as if the thought were too scandalous to be uttered aloud.

      Rosemary’s lips pinched tightly together and she turned away. Ramrod straight, she headed for the doorway.

      “Rosemary! Don’t leave. I was only funning you.” Phillipa scooted around the counter, her words calling a halt to Rosemary’s departure.

      “I couldn’t. I couldn’t possibly marry that man. Even if he were serious, it would be…” Rosemary turned, her cheeks crimson, her breathing rapid. “It would be a sacrilege of the worst sort.”

      Phillips’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. “Now, how do you figure that?”

      “He’s rowdy, for one thing.” The tip of her tongue delivered moisture to lips suddenly gone dry as Rosemary thought of the teasing grin she’d encountered only yesterday.

      “Rowdy doesn’t seem too great a sin to me,” Phillipa said with a grin of her own.

      “You know what I mean,” Rosemary told her. “Papa would turn over in his grave if I married a man who frequented the Golden Slipper. I let him know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t interested.” Her chin tilted as she considered the unexpected proposal she had received. “Mr. Tanner was only putting me on, anyway.”

      Phillipa reached to lay a comforting hand on Rosemary’s shoulder. “But, you didn’t refuse him flat out, did you? You know, Rosemary, your papa would be pleased if you married a man who would treat you well, no matter if he did take a drink once in a while. And from what I hear, Gabe Tanner is far from a drinking man.”

      Her eyes wrinkled in delight, as if she considered some pleasant thought. “He strikes me as the sort of man who might treat you even better than you know, Rosemary. And he’s very handsome.”

      Rosemary’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Pip Boone! What a thing to say. The man uses vile language and partakes of hard liquor. Besides, I’d be willing to bet my bottom dollar that he was only offering marriage so that he wouldn’t have to pay the new Bachelor Tax.”

      “Pooh! No man would propose marriage unless he was prepared to back it up, honey. Even Gabe Tanner wouldn’t take a chance like that, unless…” She glanced away.

      “He was sure I’d say no, wasn’t he?” Rosemary’s eyes dampened with hasty tears, and she blinked them away. “He thought he wasn’t taking any kind of a chance at all, coming at me that way. He figured I’d turn him down flat.”

      As if she’d been kicked by a recalcitrant mule, she clutched her stomach. “I think I’ve been insulted, Pip. I wish now I’d had the sense to make my position totally clear. I should have said no in a hundred ways, just to be sure he got the message.”

      “Well, I think maybe you’re jumping to the wrong conclusion about him. The man probably decided his place needs a woman’s touch, and thought that a fine, upstanding preacher’s daughter would be the perfect choice.”

      Phillipa’s staunch reply sounded a bit hollow, but Rosemary smiled anyway. “He looked at me as if I were a drudge all right. I didn’t see one speck of interest in his eyes, just that hateful way he has of looking at me sometimes, as if he can see beneath my clothes and doesn’t like what’s there.”

      Phillipa’s eyes rounded and her lips twitched, then widened into a grin. “Why, Rosemary Gibson! You’ve peeked at Gabe Tanner before, haven’t you?”

      Rosemary shook her head. “Peeked? I don’t peek. And I certainly—” She spun from Phillipa and looked out the wide front window of the emporium. “This is all a waste of time, anyway. I need to find a place to work and somewhere to stay, Pip. I can’t impose on Reverend Worth and his family much longer.”

      “How long before their furniture comes?” Pip asked.

      “He said it would be here in a week. That doesn’t give me much time.”

      “You can move in with my folks,” Pip offered. “We always have room for one more.”

      Rosemary shook her head. “You barely squeeze into that house as it is, Pip. I couldn’t do that.”

      “How about a job at the newspaper office? Or maybe the hotel?”

      Rosemary nodded. “I thought about working at the hotel, but I’m not sure I could earn enough to live on my own.”

      “There’s only one way to find out. Just march on down there and see what Mr. Westcott has to say.”

      “I’d surely like to lend a helping hand, Miss Gibson, but the only thing I could put you to work at is emptying slop jars and keeping the floors clean. And that’s stretching it. I’d only need you for about three hours a day. I doubt you could do much more than pay for your food and a bed at the boarding house down the street.” Samuel Westcott looked uncomfortable, standing before his desk, his hands clasped behind him.

      “I’d surely like to do something to help you out, seeing as how your father was such a good influence on the town, and all.”

      “Thank you, sir. I understand your position,” Rosemary told him, forcing a smile.

      “Too bad you’re not a gentleman looking for work. I heard tell that Jason Stillwell is thinking about hiring an accountant.”

      Rosemary felt a fine film of perspiration on her forehead as she listened to Samuel Westcott. “Yes, well, it seems that men have the upper hand all the way around, СКАЧАТЬ