A Love For Keeps (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (9 page)

 

Nate went back to the bank for an hour before going home. He’d enjoyed the afternoon even more than the lunch he’d had with Meagan and her mother. He wished that Meagan had let him see her home. He hadn’t wanted the afternoon to end. It was always that way when he was with her.

 

From his observations, most of the women in his social circle visited with each other, entertained each other, and gossiped about each other. At times, he just wanted to leave the room … and often did. Meagan was so very different from them. It was refreshing just to be near her.

 

She was working to help her family, to keep her mother from working outside the home, and to give them all a future. He ventured to guess that none of the women he knew would handle the death of a parent and all the changes Meagan’s family had gone through since then with such grace. He admired her greatly, and he hoped that by seeing him outside of the bank or her shop, she would get to know him better.

 

He thought back over the afternoon as he had his runabout brought around and headed home. He really cared about Meagan Snow. She was the first woman since his Rose that had touched his heart. He hoped she might begin to feel the same way about him.

 

He traveled up Spring Street to his home and prayed as the sun set behind the hill.
Thank You, Lord, for allowing me to run into Meagan the way I have been lately. I pray that if it be Your will, she will see me as a man who would like to court her. And I pray that You help me find a way to ask her if she will allow me to. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen
.

 
eight
 

“Aunt Abby and Grandmother, when are you going to visit Miss Meg’s shop and have her make something for you?” Natalie asked at Sunday dinner the next week. “She makes such lovely things, and she showed me a ball gown she’s making for someone. It is so beautiful.”

 

“I am beginning to hear very good things about her,” Abigail’s mother said, ladling gravy over the potatoes on the plate she was serving to Nate. “I’m thinking of asking her to make me a new summer walking dress.”

 

Inside, Abigail fumed, but she tried not to show it. As if she didn’t hear enough about Meagan Snow from Natalie, now she was beginning to hear it from some of her friends
and
her mother. By all accounts the woman was a very good dressmaker—obviously word was getting around if her mother was thinking of doing business with her—but Abigail was sick of hearing her name.

 

“You should, Grandmother. She is making me one.”

 

It seemed that Natalie was a one-woman advertising agency for that Snow woman’s shop.
One would think she was being paid
, Abigail thought.

 

“I ran into Meagan and her mother having lunch the other day, and the Richardsons were there, too. Myla made an appointment to go see her.” Nate’s comment added to her irritation.

 

“Yes. Myla is having Miss Snow make her a new tea gown and a walking dress.”

 

Abigail didn’t much care—she just didn’t like Natalie talking about her all the time, and she especially didn’t like the fact that her niece saw so much of the woman. Suddenly, Abigail realized that if Natalie was going for fittings, unless the housekeeper was taking her, Nate was seeing an awful lot of Miss Snow, too.

 

“Does Mrs. Baker take Natalie to be fitted?”

 

“No.” Natalie answered the question that had been directed to Nate. “Papa takes me.”

 

“Oh, well, I know how busy you are, Nate. I’ll be glad to take Natalie in for her fittings.”

 

“Thank you, Abigail, but that won’t be necessary. Miss Snow is very good about scheduling the fittings for when it is convenient for me.”

 

“I see.” And she didn’t like what she was thinking. Not one bit.

 

“That’s very nice of her,” Abigail’s mother said, handing Abigail her plate. “I’ve heard she is just a lovely woman.”

 

Abigail made up her mind right then and there that it was time for her to get to know Miss Snow. And she would start tomorrow.

 

 

Meagan couldn’t be much happier with the way her business was growing. Mrs. Richardson had ordered several things from her, and through her word of mouth, two of her friends had come in and ordered new afternoon dresses. Occasionally, someone would see the sign outside and come in.

 

She was just finishing up the trim on a dinner dress she’d made for Mrs. Sinclair, one of the ladies who had come in the day of her opening, when she looked out the window and saw a woman approaching the shop. She came up the steps and around to the door. Meagan had a sinking feeling as she got up to greet her.

 

Abigail Connors swept into the shop as if she’d been coming for years. Meagan would know her anywhere. She saw her each Sunday, sitting on the same pew that Nate and Natalie used … often next to Nate. That she had a proprietary air toward Nate and Natalie was a big understatement. Now, here she was, in the one place Meagan had begun to weave dreams about herself and Nate.

 

Meagan forced a smile to her lips and held out her hand. “Good afternoon, Miss Connors. How nice to see you. How may I help you?”

 

“Thank you.” The expression on the woman’s face didn’t match the tone of her voice at all. “How do you know who I am?”

 

“I’ve seen you at church with Mr. Brooks and Natalie. I’ve been doing some sewing for her.”

 

“Ah, yes. I know,” she said in a dismissive tone. “I’ve been hearing about your work. I’d like to see some samples of it if you have any to show me. I might decide to place an order with you if I like what I see.”

 

Meagan could feel her face turn hot with indignation. How dare the woman take that tone with her? For a moment, Meagan thought she’d actually spoken aloud, and oh, how she wanted to. Instead, she silently prayed, asking for help not to lose her temper. This woman was Natalie’s aunt and the daughter of the man who owned the bank that gave her the money to start this business. She could not afford to make her angry.

 

“I’d be glad to show you some of my work.” She opened the wardrobe she and her mother had decided to put in the shop for just that reason. They used it to store some of the things Meagan had made for herself and other family members, rotating them with other outfits.

 

“Are you interested in anything in particular? An afternoon dress? Dinner dress?”

 

“Just show me what you have,” Abigail said, pulling off the gloves that matched her afternoon dress of blue taffeta trimmed in gold. Meagan knew it was of the very latest style and fabric.

 

Thankful that she could show Abigail several things that were of just as good quality as what she was wearing and in the latest styles, as well, she pulled out an afternoon dress to show her. It was made of red- and white-striped serge with matching red trim at the neck and wrists. A solid red overskirt gathered up and draped to the side.

 

Abigail turned it this way and that, looking closely at the stitching. “This is very nice,” she said. “What else do you have?”

 

Meagan showed one of her morning dresses and a walking dress that belonged to her mother. She also pulled out a dinner dress and a Sunday dress. Abigail went over each one as if she were buying them for herself or perhaps, given the way she was inspecting each one, the Queen of England! Meagan had never had her work scrutinized quite so thoroughly.

 

When she’d hung them all back, she turned to Abigail. “I hope you are satisfied that I do my best on each outfit I make, Miss Connors?”

 

Abigail rewarded her with a very slight nod. If Meagan had blinked, she would have missed it.

 

“You do fine work, Miss Snow. I can see why I’ve been hearing good reports about your skill as a dressmaker and why Nate keeps telling me to let all of my friends know about the shop.”

 

Meagan’s heart warmed at the thought that Nate was trying to send more business to her.

 

“I would like to have a new dinner dress. Do you have some fashion plates available for me to look at?”

 

“Certainly.” She motioned to the settee in front of the fireplace. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I just received the latest
Harpers Bazaar
and there are some lovely plates in it.”

 

She handed the magazine to Abigail and then reached for another. “And here is the latest
Godey’s
that I have. I’m sure we can find something in these.”

 

As it was teatime and her mother always insisted that she stop working and take a brief break in the afternoon, Meagan wasn’t surprised to see her enter the shop with a loaded tea tray. She’d taken to bringing in extra, just in case Meagan was with a customer, and she had never been so glad to see her mother as now.

 

“Mama, thank you. I didn’t realize it was teatime already. Miss Connors, would you like a cup of tea and a tea cake?”

 

Abigail looked up from the magazine. “I—yes, I suppose I would.”

 

“You do remember my mother from church, don’t you?”

 

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Abigail said quite bluntly.

 

“There’s no reason you should, Miss Connors,” Meagan’s mother said. “We only met that one time.”

 

Meagan wanted to shout that there was every reason to remember her sweet mother, but she kept to the manners she’d been raised with and said nothing. Nevertheless, she certainly wasn’t going to let her mother serve the woman.

 

“How would you like your tea? With cream and sugar?”

 

Abigail had gone back to perusing the magazine and didn’t look up. “Yes, that will be fine.”

 

“Would you like a tea cake?” Meagan asked. She could feel her eyebrow rise.

 

“No. Just tea.”

 

Meagan looked at her mother and found her with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye as she fixed the cup of tea. Meagan sighed inwardly and smiled back as she took the cup of tea and set it down beside Abigail. “There you are.”

 

The woman looked up from the magazine once more. “Yes, well, thank you.”

 

“You are welcome. Have you seen anything you like?” Meagan took a sip of her own tea.

 

“Yes, in fact, I have.” Abigail showed Meagan a fashion plate picturing a beautiful dinner dress in peacock blue satin trimmed in black Chantilly lace.

 

“That is lovely.”

 

“Can you make something like that for me?”

 

“Of course. Would you want it in the same fabric? Or if not, I have several samples of other colors and different fabrics you may choose from.”

 

“Let me look at those.”

 

Never had Meagan dealt with a ruder woman. She wanted nothing more than to tell her so, but she couldn’t. Instead, she sighed as she went to get her samples. Her mother just shook her head and left the room.

 

By the time Abigail left, Meagan had shown her every bolt and sample of fabric in the shop. After much deliberation, she finally decided that the design of the fashion plate would look better on her if it was made of a red-striped silk and black lace. Although Meagan thought it might be a little daring, she wasn’t about to argue with the woman’s choice.

 

“When can you start on it?” Abigail asked.

 

“I’ll have to order the fabric and trim, but it shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks to come in. I can start on it then. I will need to take your measurements, though.”

 

“Oh, yes. Can you do that now?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“It won’t take long, will it? I’m having dinner with Nate and Natalie, and I don’t want to be late.”

 

Meagan’s heart gave a sudden little twist. She didn’t much like the idea of Nate having dinner with this woman—even if they were related by marriage. “It won’t take long at all. You may use the screen behind you to remove your dress. Just let me know when you are ready.”

 

When Abigail called, Meagan made quick work of getting her measurements. She wrote them down carefully in the notebook she kept for such purposes. “That will do it. I’ll make note of these with your order. I’d like to make a muslin pattern and fit it to you. Can you come for a fitting a week from now?”

 

“I should be able to,” Abigail said from behind the screen. “If not, I’ll let you know.”

 

“I’ll give you an appointment card with the time before you leave.”

 

She couldn’t leave too soon for Meagan. When Abigail dressed and was ready to go, she took the card from Meagan and walked out the door without a word. Meagan released a huge sigh of relief. The very last thing she wanted was to sew for that woman, but there was absolutely no way to get out of it.

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