The Courtship. Lynna Banning

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      Chapter Five

      “Anything else this morning, Miz Davis?”

      Jane drew in a deep breath. She had inspected every bolt of yard goods Mr. Mercer had in stock—crisp yellow percaline, rose and pale green checked gingham, airy white dimity. Nothing seemed just right. She wanted something unusual, something eye-catching to display in her shop window. Something that would stop the ladies of Dixon Falls in their tracks.

      “Miz Davis?” the mercantile owner reminded.

      She scanned the shelves of fabric once more. “There, on the top. What is that red?”

      Rafe Mercer pushed a ladder into place and clambered up four rungs. Reaching out his long arms, he grasped the bolt and dragged it off the pile, balancing it on his shoulder. “Muslin, ma’am. Ordered it by mistake.”

      He descended the ladder and plunked the fabric down on the polished wood counter before her. “Ten cents a yard.”

      Jane’s head began to buzz the way it always did when she began to envision a new design for a dress or a hat trimming. Yes, she could see it now. And in red, just the thing. The eyes of every woman in town would be glued to her store window display!

      “And the blue, next to it?”

      With a sigh, the thin, graying man propelled his skinny legs up the ladder again. “Cambric,” he called down to her. “Bought extra this year for the big Fourth of July doings at the schoolhouse on Sunday, but the ladies decorating committee didn’t use it all. Sell it to you for…eight cents a yard.”

      “Seven cents,” Jane countered. “And I will offer you one dollar for the bolt of red muslin.” Oh, how Papa would bellow if he knew she was bargaining! But her money was borrowed; she certainly could not afford to squander it.

      Mr. Mercer’s thin face blanched. “Ma’am, that’s near thirty yards of muslin.”

      “Ordered in error, I believe you mentioned.” She swiped her gloved forefinger across the rolled fabric and held it up. “Unless I am mistaken, Mr. Mercer, this has been on your shelf for a good while, long enough to collect dust. Seven cents.”

      “Oh, all right, Miz Davis. A dollar for the bolt. That’ll be, lessee, two dollars and five cents altogether. You need any thread?”

      In her mind’s eye she was already laying out the yardage and marking the gathers. And two bright colors, red and blue, just perfect for the Fourth of July. Every female in Dixon Falls would want one.

      “Miz Davis?”

      Jane jerked to attention. “What? Oh, yes, thread, if you please. Two spools of Brook’s cotton.” She counted out the coins while the mercantile owner wrapped up her parcels.

      “I’ll send the Harrelson boy over with your purchases, ma’am. The flour and tea and such I’ll deliver to your house on my way home this—Ah, good morning, ladies.” He turned his attention to the two new customers sweeping through the doorway. “Mrs. Tanner, Miss Price.”

      Jane shut her reticule and fairly floated over the planked floor, her brain whirling with ideas. She’d done it, made the first purchase for her new business! The feeling was so heady, and so unexpected, she suppressed an urge to laugh out loud.

      Jane Charlotte, just you stop and think what Papa would say.

      For a moment her elation dimmed. Of course Papa would disapprove. How could he not, coming from a long line of gentleman plantation owners? Working with your hands for a living was “common.” Face it, Jane. You yourself are now an employed woman. A shopkeeper.

      And Mama…she dared not think about Mama. She would not think of them, she resolved. She was doing what she had to do, either that or marry, and the only offer she’d had was from Mr. Wilder and it hadn’t been the least bit proper. To succeed she had to care for her widowed mother and earn enough money to keep them fed and clothed until they could return to Montclair. It would take every ounce of concentration and fortitude she could muster, but it would all come straight in the end. She knew it would.

      The two ladies passed her by. “Good morning,” she said automatically. Jane heard one of them give an audible sniff.

      She should have addressed them by name, but she realized suddenly she did not know which one was which. Was Mrs. Tanner the dark-haired woman in gray, or was that Miss Price? The latter had golden ringlets and a merry laugh, but looked too young to be married. In fact, both women looked to be not a day over СКАЧАТЬ