Brides of Iowa (11 page)

“Hmm, I may run this store forever if You don’t send me a buyer besides Kilgore.” He immediately regretted his words and sent a repentant glance heavenward. “Sorry, Lord. I didn’t mean to tell You what to do. If You want me to be a storekeeper, I’ll be content to stay here for as long as You say.”

He pushed the coping saw into motion. If he didn’t stop woolgathering, he’d never get this job finished. He made the last cut and picked up a section of the stovepipe to test the fit. After a few more minor adjustments, he slid the section of pipe into the hole and nailed it in place. But when he began trying to connect the sections of pipe, something was wrong. Perhaps he should have connected the sections first, before installing the outside piece.

“Well, how was I to know? I’ve never installed a stove before.” He continued muttering as he pried the nails out. Sweat trickled down his neck as he pulled the piece out and laid it on the floor with the others. He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the assortment of tin scattered on the floor.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

Gideon startled and jerked his head up.

Martha stood in the doorway, mirroring Gideon’s stance with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he snapped.

His sister pressed her lips together, and he got the distinct impression she was trying not to laugh. “Going into the scrap metal business?”

Gideon sent her a mock glower. “Think you’re clever, don’t you?” He spread his filthy hands and reached toward her. “Come here, and I’ll show you something clever.”

Martha squealed. “Ooh, Gideon, you’re dirty. Don’t touch me.”

“Ha!” He retreated a step. “And you’re going to be a farmer’s wife? You’d better get used to dirt.”

She made a face at him. “I was just coming to tell you that I’m going out to Ted’s place. His mother and I are going to pick strawberries and make jam.”

He grinned. “And you don’t want Ted to see you dirty, since you’ll be working in the garden and all.”

Martha heaved an exasperated sigh. “Ted will bring me home later this evening, so you’re on your own for supper.”

“Oh, thank goodness, a reprieve.”

“Gideon!”

He gave her a contrite smile. “Sorry. Have a good time, and bring me some strawberries.”

After she left, a thought occurred to him. What if Tessa considered accepting Kilgore’s offer of the saloon job? If Kilgore’s portrayal of Tessa was accurate, he’d have no choice but to rethink the plans for the bakery. He not only had a business reputation to think of; he had a sister to protect. Despite their brother-sister banter, he adored Martha and couldn’t allow her respectability to be sullied.

“I’m letting my imagination get carried away. Kilgore said Tessa turned him down flat.” Besides not trusting any of Kilgore’s implications, something in Gideon’s heart told him Tessa simply wasn’t that kind of girl.

He directed his attention back to the task at hand. These wretched sections of pipe must fit together in a particular order before he could get the whole assembly into the hole he’d cut in the wall. It appeared he might not finish this job today, and he still needed to deliver Mr. Behr’s order to the hotel.

He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. He knelt beside the collection of stovepipe pieces and tried putting sections together, but after experimenting repeatedly, they didn’t fit the way he thought they should. One piece seemed too big, while another appeared too small. No matter how he attempted to join them, he always ended up with an extra length of pipe. The part he thought should fit into the wall didn’t seem to fit any of the other pieces.

He didn’t want to swallow his pride and ask for help, even though Cully probably knew how to put this puzzle together. He leaned against the wall and sighed his exasperation. This contraption wasn’t going to get the best of him!

T
essa remembered the last time someone invited her to church. It was the itinerant preacher in Indiana. Papa had run him off with a shotgun. Gideon’s invitation made her heart smile even if she couldn’t accept. But the fluttery sensation she got every time she laid eyes on him perplexed her. She shouldn’t allow such feelings.

Grabbing a towel, she slid her pies from the oven and placed them on the cooling rack. “Who am I kidding? I get butterflies every time I
think
about him.”

“Every time you think about who?”

Tessa jerked herself back to awareness and glanced over her shoulder at Flossie.

The woman’s eyebrows arched in speculation.

“Oh, nobody.”

Flossie laughed. “You get butterflies thinking about nobody?”

As she struggled to think how to answer, her face grew hot. Finally the stretched-out silence apparently answered for her.

“Okay, I can take a hint. You don’t want to talk about it.”

She’d have to remember to keep her ruminations to herself. The pies cooling near the window wouldn’t last through the dinner crowd, so she set to work mixing more piecrust.

As she did so, she allowed her mind to think back to Gideon’s invitation. Perhaps she could wait outside the church until the service started then slip in and sit in the back. As soon as the service was over, she could slip out again before anyone noticed her.

What was she thinking? Gideon said he and his sister wanted her to join them. He must intend for her to sit with them. No, she was right to refuse his invitation, regardless of how much she wanted to accept.

Tonight she planned to open Mama’s Bible and read awhile. After all, that’s the way she and Mama used to worship together. The only thing wrong with that plan was by the time she returned to the shed there was little or no daylight left, and she didn’t have an oil lamp—or even a candle—by which to read.

Gideon crushed the brim of his hat in his fist as he strode down the boardwalk toward the mercantile. Something didn’t add up. He’d stopped by the bank full of anticipation to learn the price and terms for the land about which he’d dreamed.

Only a few days ago Mr. Sewell seemed eager for the transaction to take place.
Why is he now telling me the land isn’t for sale?
It didn’t make sense for the bank to hold on to a parcel of land acquired through a defaulted loan. No, something certainly wasn’t right.

He slapped his hat against his thigh as he stomped up the steps to the mercantile. The memory of Mr. Sewell repeating himself numerous times and glancing nervously at the door to an adjoining office that stood slightly ajar raised Gideon’s suspicions that their conversation hadn’t been entirely private.

As he propped the door open, a voice hailed him from the street.

“Gideon.”

He turned. “Hey Cully. Boy, am I glad to see you. I’ve been itching to get this stovepipe hooked up.”

“Waall, I sure am sorry it took me so long to git here. Old man Kilgore had me puttin’ new shoes on his matched team of buggy horses, and then I had to replace the wheel rims on that fancy carriage of his.”

Gideon set aside his unanswered questions about Mr. Sewell’s odd declaration and turned his attention to Cully and the stove. “The stove is back in the storeroom.” He led the way, hoping his inability to install the contraption didn’t make him look completely incompetent. If Cully could finish the job today, he could show Tessa this evening.

Cully followed Gideon and grinned at the assortment of tin pieces lined up on the floor in the corner. He picked up several pieces, scrutinizing the edges and comparing sections, tapping his finger on each piece and grunting like he was inventorying the lot. “Where’s your thimble?”

Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Thimble?”

“You gotta have a thimble piece to fit these two together. Otherwise, your chimney ain’t gonna be tight.” Cully held up the section Gideon had nailed into the wall and then pried out. “You wasn’t tryin’ to nail this piece up in that hole, was ya?” Cully started to chuckle.

“Well, I was just going by the way our stove upstairs looks.”

Cully’s toothy grin punctuated the man’s amusement. “You’d best stick to runnin’ the store, Gideon. You ain’t never gonna make a living installin’ stoves.” Cully cackled.

Gideon pressed his lips together and decided not to embarrass himself by offering to help. He set to work rearranging the displays out front.

“Hey Gideon, what’s going on?”

Gideon turned. “Mornin’, Ty. What are you doing in town again? I usually don’t see you more than once a month.”

Ty stuck his hand deep inside the gumdrop jar. “I heard from one of the stage drivers that he dropped off a guy here who might be willing to make a land deal. I came in to see if I could find him.”

Gideon scratched his head. “There was a man who got off the stage the other day. Name was Behr. He mentioned something about attending to some business.”

Ty chewed thoughtfully for a moment and tossed a couple more gumdrops in his mouth. “He didn’t say what kind of business?”

“No, it was none of my concern. I was just happy to make a sale.”

Ty nodded like it all made sense to him. “One of the stage drivers said this guy might be connected with the railroad.”

“Railroad?” Gideon frowned. “I read in the paper awhile back that the Chicago, Kansas and Nebraska decided to route that connecting line about fifty miles south of here. There was some talk for a while of the Illinois Central taking over that line.”

After gathering up another handful of gumdrops, Ty shrugged. “I know as much as you do. Figure I’ll ask some questions and see what the answers sound like.”

Gideon propped one foot on a crate of canned goods. “I had a real strange meeting today with Mr. Sewell.”

“Roland Sewell at the bank?”

Gideon nodded. “You know that parcel of land east of town that I’ve been looking at?”

Ty arched his eyebrows and swallowed. “You finally gonna buy that piece? Hey, that’s great. Nice stretch of land. A little too hilly for planting wheat and corn, but you’ve always wanted to breed horses. That’s some mighty pretty pasture land.”

Gideon scratched his head. “When I checked at the land office last week, they said the bank owned it. But today, Mr. Sewell told me it wasn’t for sale. Don’t you find that a little odd?”

Puzzlement drove Ty’s eyebrows into a furrow. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would the bank want to hold a piece of land?”

Either insight or speculation—Gideon didn’t know which—fit some tentative pieces into place. “Unless …” He rubbed his hand over his chin and looked straight at Ty. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Talk of the railroad coming through might drive up the price of land sky-high.”

Gideon caught the corner of his lip between his teeth. “If the rumor is true, it might. When you get done talking with Mr. Behr, can you drop by and let me know what you found out?”

Ty tossed his hat on his head. “If it’s anything worth passing on, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Sure thing.” Ty started for the door.

“Uh, Ty?”

“Huh?”

“That’ll be four cents for the gumdrops.”

“Put it on my account.”

“You don’t have an account.”

“Oh. Well, could I open an account?”

“For four cents’ worth of gumdrops?”

Ty pulled out his pocket linings and raised his shoulders, chagrin on his face.

Gideon laughed and shook his head. “Get out of here, you gumdrop thief.”

“See you later.”

“You better have a nickel on you when you come back.”

“A nickel? You said four cents.”

“I charge interest.”

“Gideon, you got a catalog for stove parts?” Cully’s request rang like a dirge in Gideon’s ears. He pulled the catalog from underneath a shelf and pushed it across the counter to the old gent. Cully flipped through the pages and turned the book around for Gideon’s perusal.

“This part right here.” Cully’s grimy finger tapped the page of the catalog. “You gotta have this here thimble connector, and you gotta have a collar piece before you can put that stove to work.”

Gideon’s shoulders slumped. Ordering parts would certainly hinder his plans. “Thanks, Cully. I’ll order these parts right away.”

Cully nodded and sucked on his teeth. “Sure ’nuf. See ya in church.” He strolled out the door, leaving Gideon to stand in the middle of the storeroom and chafe in frustration over the delay. More than anything, he wanted to see Tessa leave Kilgore’s employ and have a decent place to live.

“Just like everything else, I need to wait on God and let Him work things out.”

“A sound plan, young man.”

Gideon spun around to see Hubert Behr standing in the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in, Mr. Behr.”

“I apologize, young man. Eavesdropping is an unseemly pastime. But I must say, it’s refreshing to find such wisdom in a person your age. If more people would follow God’s leadership, they’d make far fewer mistakes and experience far less heartache.”

Gideon followed his customer to the front of the store. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about, sir.”

Mr. Behr nodded slowly. “Indeed.”

Gideon wiped his hands on his apron. “What can I get for you, sir?”