Groom by Design. Christine Johnson
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Название: Groom by Design
Автор: Christine Johnson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical
isbn: 9781472073051
isbn:
“Hello, Ruthie, dear.” A short and rather round older woman hobbled up to them with the assistance of a cane.
“Mrs. Simmons. How are you?”
Ruth addressed the woman with so much warmth that Sam took notice. Was this how small-town people treated each other? Fragments of a childhood memory came to mind. A pretty little town blanketed in snow. The glow of lights. The cheerful greetings of shopkeepers. Father laughing, holding him up to a shop window. Sam had felt loved, wanted, as if he belonged. Maybe Pearlman was like that.
Ruth stooped to embrace the older woman. “Is your knee bothering you again? I thought it was healed from your fall last winter.”
“Oh, it is. It is.” The woman chuckled. “You know how it is with rheumatism. Sometimes the old legs don’t work quite the way they ought. But enough of me. How is your father doing?”
Ruth’s smile faded. “We haven’t heard from Mother yet. She left for Battle Creek on Monday.”
Sam pretended to examine the merchandise in the drugstore window.
“Do you know when he’ll be coming home from the hospital, dear?”
Ruth’s father must be very ill if he required hospitalization. That meant the family needed the dress shop’s income even more. Sam shoved aside the guilt. It wasn’t his problem.
Mrs. Simmons grasped Ruth’s hand. “I’ve been praying for him.”
Prayer? Sam shot a sideways glance at the woman, whose round face glowed with hope and compassion. That was exactly what his mother would say.
“Thank you.” Ruth ducked her head, something she did far too frequently. “Daddy can use everyone’s prayers. We hope to get a wire from Mother soon.”
If Ruth were waiting for a wire, then they didn’t have a telephone yet. Incomprehensible. How could a business operate these days without telephone service? He shook his head. If the Foxes didn’t step into the twentieth century, their dress shop was sure to fail, Hutton’s or no Hutton’s.
“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Ruth continued. “We’re hoping for good news.”
“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Mrs. Simmons said. “I understand the sanitarium has exceptional treatment for his condition.”
Sanitarium? Mrs. Simmons must mean sanatorium. A sanatorium meant Ruth’s father suffered from a contagious and life-threatening illness like tuberculosis. He might never come home. Each word the two women uttered made his stomach roil more. Father’s marketing ploy hung over the Foxes like an invisible weight. When the department store opened in two weeks, their livelihood would be hopelessly crippled.
That wasn’t his concern. He was here to open a store. Provide quality clothing at an inexpensive price. Hutton’s brought economic benefit to the masses. It gave people more for their hard-earned money. He couldn’t let one little dress shop derail progress.
Chapter Two
Once Mrs. Simmons left, Ruth had to face Sam and the uncomfortable knowledge that he now knew her father was in the Battle Creek Sanitarium. True, perfectly healthy people visited the famed health institution, but they had money to waste in the vain pursuit of youth. Her father obviously did not fall into that category. Sam probably figured he suffered from tuberculosis or mental illness. Neither was true, but she could not share her father’s dire prognosis without breaking into tears. Talking with Mrs. Simmons had been tough enough, but a perfect stranger? Never.
So she averted her gaze and urged him to hurry along with her to Mrs. Vanderloo’s house. Again she walked ahead, trying to ignore the knot tightening between her shoulder blades.
To his credit, he didn’t say a thing.
At first she was grateful for the silence, but then it gnawed at her. What did he think? Did he regret his offer to replace the dresses? She ought to tell him that she would pay him back, but every time she opened her mouth, a sob threatened. Finally, she gave up and plodded onward.
He matched her stride, a distinguished presence that drew the notice of the people they passed. Eloise Grattan, even more a spinster than Ruth, halted in her steps and stared in disbelief, as if she could not believe such a handsome man would ever walk with plain old Ruth Fox. Sally Neidecker tilted her head to best advantage as she paraded in front of them.
“Well, hello,” Sally purred, her sleek bob gleaming in the sunlight.
If Ruth had the gift of speaking her mind, she would ask Sally how her beau was faring.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Sam said and nodded.
Ma’am. Ruth could have laughed. Sam had assumed Sally was married. And she would be if she hadn’t broken her engagement to Reggie Landers.
Sally pursed her lips into a pout. “Miss Neidecker, Miss Sally Neidecker. And you are?”
“Late,” Sam said as he skirted around Sally. “Miss Fox?” Once again he held out his arm for Ruth.
Though she could not accept his escort, joy welled inside her. He had sidestepped Sally in order to stay with her. Though he must have acted purely from a business sense, hope fluttered to life that he might actually prefer her company.
Or he was married.
Ruth glanced at his hands. No ring, but then, not every married man wore a wedding band. That would explain his lack of interest in Sally, however. With each step, the need to know grew stronger. Was he married? She couldn’t just ask. It had to come out naturally in conversation.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her mouth felt dry, but she managed to get out a simple question. “Where do you hail from?”
If he was surprised by her sudden question, he didn’t show it. “Lately, New York.”
“The city?”
“That’s the place.”
A well-off New Yorker. He could be among the country’s elite. That thought put her even more on edge. She instinctively checked her hat and hair.
When he offered nothing more, she hazarded a glance. He caught her gaze and returned a lopsided grin that sent a bolt of heat straight to her cheeks. She turned quickly, but he must have noticed her blush. “My, it’s hot today. I don’t suppose it’s ever this hot in New York.”
“More so. The tall buildings and paved streets hold in the heat.”
His casual manner put her a bit more at ease, and she recalled that not all New Yorkers acted superior to country folk. “Mariah and Pastor Gabe—they’re sister and brother—are from New York City. Maybe you know the family. Meeks?”
“The name doesn’t sound familiar.” He glanced across the street. “How far is Mrs. Vanderloo’s house?”
“Just a couple СКАЧАТЬ