Gunsmoke and Gingham, Page 3

  She also remembered the vocal hemorrhage she suffered as a result of night after night of powerful singing, the fear of never being able to perform regularly again . . . and the day that fear was realized. The crushing, immobilizing despair, the weeks spent with a vocal coach trying to regain what she’d lost. Trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her life now that everything had been taken from her.

  With a sharp shake of her head, she pushed those memories aside. They would cripple her if she focused on them. Instead, she chose out three dresses—the maroon, the emerald green, and the royal blue. If these were made over, they could be her party dresses for the next year, and when they were no longer in fashion, she could have another three made over. Why, she could live quite happily on what she already had stored away in her closet.

  She hung everything else back up, wrapped the three gowns she’d chosen in a bedsheet, and put on her hat and gloves. Then she gathered up her bundle and headed out, congratulating herself on her very smart idea that she’d wished she had years ago.

  “Hello, Ori,” Miss Evans called out as Orinda Lou entered the dress shop. “How can I help you?”

  Orinda Lou almost corrected the use of her name. It felt too casual and not her own, but then again, maybe it was time for her to be a little more casual. It might be fun. “I have a project for you, if you’re willing.”

  “I’m always up for an interesting project.”

  Orinda Lou laid her bundle down on a table in the corner and opened it up. Miss Evans was immediately excited. “Oh, these are beautiful gowns, Ori! They’re just exquisite!”

  “They are, but sadly, they’re meant for the stage and not for Topeka. Would you take them and simplify them a bit so they’re appropriate for town use?”

  “Of course.” Miss Evans gave her a sly smile. “And do I dare guess that you’d like one of them ready for tomorrow night’s dance?”

  Orinda Lou nodded sheepishly. “I know this is horribly late notice, but do you think you could make one of them do?”

  Miss Evans looked them over with a practiced eye. “This one,” she said at last, fingering the sleeve of the maroon dress. “It will take the least amount of work, and yes, I can have it ready for you by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Oh, thank you. I’m so glad.”

  “Does the dress fit, or does it need to be altered?”

  “It still fits. The style is all that needs to be changed—take off some of these ruffles, for instance. You’ll know better than I would what needs to be done. And as far as the other two dresses, I’m not in a rush for them, so just whenever you have the time.”

  “I’m sure I’ll make time rather soon. My fingers are already itching to work on such fine fabric.” She gave Orinda Lou a big heartfelt smile. “Thank you for entrusting me with these.”

  “I know you’ll do a beautiful job.”

  Orinda Lou left the shop and paused for a moment on the street. Having her dresses remade was the easy part. Now she had to figure out how to be an interesting companion for an entire evening.

  Kristin gave her an incredulous look. “You’ve never been courted?”

  “No, never. And Mr. Perry isn’t courting me—he’s taking me to the dance. It’s entirely different. I just need to know what to say to him.”

  “If you’d ever been courted, you’d know what to say to him.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when I somehow manage to live my life over again and do it differently.” Orinda Lou shook her head. “Do you have any advice for me, or are you going to sit there and tease me?”

  Kristin tossed the sock she was mending back into her basket. “First of all, how is it that you’ve never had a gentleman caller? This is ridiculous. You’re beautiful, accomplished, intelligent—there’s just no reason for it.”

  Orinda Lou shrugged. “All the men I met were interested in my music, not in forming a friendship or a relationship. We’d make polite chitchat at dinner parties, and that was the extent of it.”

  “What a shame. What an absolute shame.” Kristin shook her head. “Sometimes I think that men as an entire gender should be horsewhipped.”

  “Even Charles? Aren’t you a little too newly married to be unhappy with your husband?”

  “Even Charles, but I’m sure I’ll feel differently by tonight. It’s the way he wears socks.”

  Orinda Lou blinked. “The way he wears socks?”

  “Yes! For starters, he doesn’t pull them all the way up so the heel is on his heel and so forth. He could have a heel right in the middle of his foot, and he doesn’t mind at all.”

  “Doesn’t he feel it when he puts on his shoes?”

  “That’s just it. He doesn’t feel it. So he walks around all day with his socks all bunched up in there. Like that’s normal.” Kristin flung her hand toward the mending basket.

  “I definitely like my stockings pulled up all the way. I can’t stand it if they’re not.”

  “This is what I’m saying!” Kristin gave an exasperated sigh. “I asked him this morning why he doesn’t pull his socks up all the way, and he kissed my cheek and told me it didn’t matter. Honestly, Ori! How can it not matter?”

  Orinda Lou smiled. “You’re getting a little worked up, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. But then you know what happens? The socks wear out unevenly, and in weird places. If you don’t wear a sock the right way, you could get holes in places where holes aren’t even supposed to be, and then how am I supposed to mend that?”

  Kristin’s eyes had filled with tears by this time, and Orinda Lou couldn’t help but smile even more. “I wonder if you’ve had a chance to meet Dr. Wayment since you’ve moved to town.”

  Kristin looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “Would he have a cure for my husband wearing his socks in this very . . . wrong way?”

  “No, but he might have an explanation for why you’re so upset about it.” Orinda Lou stood up. “Thanks for the tea, Kristin. I’ll get going now.”

  “But I haven’t answered your question about talking to men!”

  “That’s all right,” Orinda Lou told her. “I’ll figure something out.”

  Chapter 5

  By the time four o’clock in the afternoon hit on Friday, Nathan had restrung all the treble notes and was halfway finished with the strings in the center of the instrument. Now back at the Brody, he washed up and shaved the small scruff of a beard he’d been growing since he got on the train. It hid the tiny scar on his chin, but he’d decided he didn’t care if the world saw that scar. He was going to tell Miss Britt the truth, and then he’d have no more reason to hide anything.

  Mrs. Brody had been kind enough to have one of the waitresses iron his white shirt, and as he buttoned it up, he decided he looked just about as respectable as he could for someone who lived on the road. Someday he’d have a home rather than a series of hotel rooms, and he’d set up like a real gentleman. Someday.

  He came downstairs in time to see Mr. Brody teetering on the edge of a chair, a banner in his outstretched arm.

  “Whoa there. Let me help,” Nathan said, darting forward to catch the fabric just as it fell.

  “Thank you, Mr. Perry,” Mr. Brody said with a chuckle. “The girls here tell me that everything needs to look very elegant, but I’m not sure how draping a thousand yards of purple cloth all over everything makes it look elegant.”

  “Mr. Brody, if you ever figure out the secret behind the female mind, I believe you could sell it and become a very rich man.” Nathan waited until Mr. Brody had repositioned himself on the chair, then handed the corner of fabric back up to him. This time, it was safely tacked down, and Mr. Brody climbed off the chair with a sigh.

  “If I ever learned that secret, I think I’d let the ladies pay me to keep it to myself. I’d make a lot more that way,” he said, clapping Nathan on the shoulder. “You’re coming to our festivities, I take it?”

  “I am. I’m bringing Miss Britt, actually. I’m just heading out
to collect her now.”

  “Miss Britt is a charming woman. I’m glad she’ll be joining us. And thanks again for your help,” Mr. Brody said, giving Nathan a nod as he moved off to the next task on his list.

  Nathan chuckled and shook his head as he walked through the front door of the Brody and across the wooden porch. He rather liked the effect of the purple banners, but he had to admit, a man never would have thought of it.

  When he reached Miss Britt’s house, he strode up the walk as always, but then he found himself suddenly shy. Before, he’d always been here as a tradesman. Now he was coming as a suitor, whether or not she realized it, and a new flood of emotions overtook him. Tonight would change everything for them. It would either be the start of a new relationship, or it would tell him once and for all that it wasn’t meant to be. He almost liked it better when things were undefined—it allowed him to dream.

  “Pardon me, sir. If you like, I’ll rap on the door for you.”

  Nathan turned at the unfamiliar voice. A young couple stood on the walk just below the steps, looking at him curiously. He had seen the woman before and recognized her as Miss Britt’s next-door neighbor, and the man must be her husband. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I must seem rude.”

  “Not rude. Just nervous, perhaps,” the man said, chuckling. He held out his hand. “I’m Charles Owens, and this is my wife, Kristin.”

  Nathan shook the offered hand. “Nathan Perry. I’m glad to know you.”

  “Likewise,” Mr. Owens replied.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but Ori said we could all walk over to the hotel together,” Mrs. Owens said, looking just a bit embarrassed.

  Ori? Nathan thought about that for a moment and smiled. He liked it. He liked it a lot. “Oh, no, I don’t mind,” he replied when he realized Mrs. Owens was waiting for an answer. Truth be told, he did mind a little bit, as he’d envisioned having Miss Britt—er, Ori—to himself for the evening, but it was only right that they go with friends.

  “Well, I suppose I should knock now, eh?” he asked, and the Owens laughed.

  When Miss Britt answered the summons, she all but took Nathan’s breath away. She wore a maroon gown that draped from her shoulder to her waist and then flowed down to the floor like a waterfall. With a few small feathers in her hair, she looked like an exotic bird . . . if birds wore elegant gowns. He didn’t even know what he was thinking, he was so taken aback.

  “Good evening, Miss Britt,” he said at last. “You look lovely tonight.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Perry,” she replied. She took the arm he held out for her, and the four began their stroll toward the hotel.

  “I thought about renting a buggy, but it’s so nice out,” Nathan began.

  “I wouldn’t even dream of riding in a buggy on a night like tonight,” Miss Britt replied. “It would be a crime against nature or some such thing. There are no clouds—the stars will be incredible on the walk home.”

  “Miss Britt—”

  She held up her hand. “And that’s another thing. This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? Please. Call me Ori.”

  He smiled. “With pleasure.”

  They crossed the street, the Owens right behind them, and continued their walk. “I have a confession,” Ori said a moment later. “I was waiting for you to come just now.”

  “Why is that such a confession?” Nathan asked.

  She looked at him and grinned. “Because I was watching you through the window, and I know how long you stood there before you knocked. Were you afraid I was going to throw more dishwater on you?”

  “That was it exactly. I never know if I can trust you.” He guided her around a rut in the road. “Next you’ll set wild dogs on me.”

  “I don’t have any wild dogs,” she replied.

  “Oh, you’ll find a way to get some, I’m sure.”

  When they reached the Brody, strains of music were flooding out through the open front door. “Mr. Brody hired a few musicians,” Nathan said as they ascended the steps. “No piano, of course, but some violins.”

  “I love violin music,” Ori replied, her eyes alight, and as he led her into the dining room which had been turned into a ballroom, he knew without a doubt that he had the most beautiful woman in Topeka, and possibly the world, on his arm.

  Nathan and Charles moved off toward the refreshment table to get them all some punch, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Kristin grabbed Orinda Lou’s arm and pulled her off to the side. “How did you know?” she whispered.

  “How did I know what?”

  Kristin looked around and then whispered again, “To send me to Dr. Wayment.”

  Orinda Lou grinned. “So you’ve met him already?”

  “Well, as soon as you said what you said, I was so curious, I had to find out what you meant. I went right over and his housekeeper let me in to see him, and I told him all about the socks, and that you said he could probably help me. At first, he seemed a little confused, and then he sort of smiled and nodded. Ori, I’m so excited! But how did you know?”

  “Let’s just say that my sister had a few issues with how her husband wore through his socks so quickly. That would have been not long before she made me an aunt.”

  Kristin squeezed Orinda Lou’s arm. “Thank you for sending me to see him. I told Charles as soon as he got home from work, and you’d think I told him I found a thousand dollars under a log, he’s so happy.”

  Orinda Lou glanced over at the refreshment table, where the two men were loading up plates with food. Charles did look very happy indeed. “You’ll be wonderful parents.”

  “Oh, I hope so.”

  “Miss Britt!”

  Orinda Lou turned to see Mr. Brody approaching, his hands held out in greeting. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Brody. You have quite a gathering here.”

  He looked around, a smile on his face. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. When my wife came up with the idea for this shindig, I wasn’t sure what I thought, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that I should trust Mrs. Brody.” He turned back to Orinda Lou. “I wonder if we might prevail upon you for a song, Miss Britt. I know you limit yourself to the charity ball in the winter, so I’ll understand if you say no, but would you at least consider it?”

  Orinda Lou looked down at the floor. She knew there were those in town who considered her a bit of a snob because she sang so infrequently. There were also those who called her a recluse or a hermit because she didn’t socialize much. Because of this, she didn’t have many close friends in Topeka, as much as she would have liked them. Singing here tonight might help shatter some of the illusions people carried of her.

  On the other hand, she had very good reasons for limiting her singing, and if everyone understood that … but how could she make them understand? She sighed, knowing Mr. Brody was waiting for an answer.

  “I will sing one song, Mr. Brody. In about half an hour, if that’s all right?” That would give her time to collect her nerves. Or to make a getaway, if that’s what she decided she needed to do.

  “Wonderful. I can’t wait.” He beamed at her, greeted Kristin, and then moved away, no doubt to play host to his other guests.

  “You’re really going to sing tonight?” Kristin’s eyes were wide. “Oh, Ori, you have no idea how much I’ve been longing to hear you sing.”

  “Don’t be too excited,” Orinda Lou warned her. “Sometimes things don’t go as planned.”

  “What do you mean?” Kristin asked.

  Orinda Lou glanced around, much as Kristin had done a few minutes before. “I can have all the good intentions in the world, but sometimes, the voice simply won’t come out. This is a huge chance I’m taking when I haven’t even warmed up.”

  “How do you warm up?” Kristin asked. “Do you have time?”

  Orinda Lou shook her head. “When I perform at the charity ball, I usually take the whole week beforehand to run through my scales every day at half voice. This will be
. . .” She shook her head. “Well, this will be an experiment.”

  The men returned and gave them their plates. Orinda Lou merely picked at hers, even though she hadn’t seen such nice refreshments in a long time.

  “Is this the kind of thing they serve in Chicago?” Kristin wanted to know. “Ori used to sing in Chicago,” she explained to Charles when he raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ve had desserts like this in Chicago, but I imagine I’ll enjoy these much more because I’m not quite so concerned about my waistline,” Orinda Lou replied with a chuckle.

  “Oh, and you’ll never guess,” Kristin said, but Orinda Lou gave a sharp shake of her head, and her friend fell silent. Orinda Lou wanted the ability to change her mind, and if the men knew, that would make things more complicated.

  Once the dishes were stacked on the sideboard, Nathan turned to her with a bow. “May I have this dance?”

  At last—the thing she’d been waiting for since they arrived. “Of course,” she said, and he swept her into his arms. This was exactly what she needed to take her mind off what she’d promised to do.

  He was a wonderful dancer, as she’d sensed he would be. There was an element of strength and yet tenderness in his hold, and he guided her around all the other couples with surety.

  “Ori,” he said softly as he brought her across the north side of the room, “may I speak with you later?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “And may I speak with you now?”

  He pulled back a little to look at her with curiosity. “Of course. What’s this all about?”

  She studied his face seriously. “I miss your beard. I rather liked it.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Really?”

  “Really. It added a certain air of distinction.”

  “But it was so silver. It showed my age.”

  “No, it showed your experience. That’s always an appealing trait in a man.”

  He laughed again just as the music came to a stop.

  Chapter 6