Ramshackle Rose by Cathy Marie Hake

Author:Cathy Marie Hake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-07-24T04:00:00+00:00

Ten

“Good day,” Garret said, returning Mr. Sowell’s greeting. At least part of that statement was true. He’d felt quite free, taking his very first afternoon off since he’d come to town. The young Widow Orrick proved to be quite able to help out at the store, so he’d gone off to spend his time with Rose.

They’d had a wonderful time in the yard, picking fruit. Prentice scared away the birds with his awful harmonica playing, but Rose’s laughter more than made up for the shrill notes. The envelope rested in his coat pocket, the slight weight of it taunting him. Everything was fine until he saw that atrocious catalogue—but Garret refused to let that darken his mood.

He’d assessed Rose Masterson from the start and known she’d be a tough customer. He’d never met a more independent woman—she knew what she wanted, and nothing else would satisfy her. He could normally entice a customer to try something new or buy a little something different. It would really test his salesmanship to get the hardest customer to switch her allegiance from Sears to his emporium, and that person was Rose.

Nonetheless, he liked the challenge.

He nodded emphatically as he told himself that with time and patience, he was going to prove his mercantile worthy of all of her patronage.

“Well, as I live and breathe! It’s you, Mr. Diamond—out for a constitutional in the middle of a workday?”

Garret turned toward Mrs. Patterson’s voice. She held a watering can, and the potted plants along her porch rail dripped down the railing, leaving a muddy streak. Finicky as Mrs. Patterson was, she’d undoubtedly wash the streak away. “Hello, Mrs. Patterson! Are you enjoying that new rocking chair?”

“Absolutely.” She beamed and beckoned. “Come see how lovely it looks in our parlor.” As he walked up to the porch, he quelled a smile. She’d leaned over the railing and used the last little bit of water to rinse off the unsightly streak so her house would be picture-perfect.

After he agreed the rocker she’d purchased looked far better in her home than in his store, Garret got a sinking feeling as Mrs. Patterson gave him a calculated smile. “It’s quite hot today. You must join Missy and me on the veranda for a glass of sweet tea.”

He drank enough sweet tea to float the Spanish Armada. While Mrs. Patterson filled his glass yet again, Missy dutifully mouthed another oh-so-appropriate platitude about the weather. “Don’t you simply adore this breeze?”

He nodded. “Very refreshing.”

“The blossoms are setting nicely.” She smoothed her skirts needlessly. “Mama says we’ll have a bumper crop of tomatoes. Daddy says the Farmer’s Almanac predicted that, too.”

“I suppose you’ll be busy canning them.”

“Oh, Missy loves working in the kitchen, don’t you, Dear?” Mrs. Patterson prompted.

Missy nodded obediently and blotted the corner of her mouth with a spotless linen napkin.

She is just what I should be looking for. Pretty. Gentle and poised, too. But Garret couldn’t help comparing her polished ways to Rose’s engaging exuberance. He hoped he wasn’t too abrupt when he took his leave.

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