Chapter Eight

Another Unwanted Visitor

Gram’s Old Dress Shop

Mid-December

Eliza added another log to the workroom’s wood-burning stove before laying out the last piece of material for Missus Bellamy’s holiday dress. She’d been sure to lock the front door and turn the sign to ‘closed’. Not that she was expecting him, but Cole would know to come to the back door as long as a light shone from inside.

She’d barely settled in at the sewing machine when a loud pounding sounded against the shop’s main door. Obviously ‘ closed ’ wasn’t as big a deterrent as she’d hoped. She thought of ignoring the interruption, but the banging became insufferably loud.

“Yes?” she hollered, yanking the door open as she spoke. The sight that greeted her caused her to gasp in shock.

“Hello, Eliza dear,” Thad Baker said. “May I come in? It’s wicked cold out here.”

She stepped back and motioned him inside before saying, “No colder than Manhattan, especially when the wind blows off the river.”

“At least there we have tall buildings to block the chill,” he countered.

“What are you doing here, Mister Baker? I told you I’d ship everything. All I needed was an address of where you wanted them sent.”

“I thought I’d surprise you,” Thad said. “My new assistant and I are on our way to California and decided to take a detour.”

Eliza glanced past him, wondering if she’d shut the door too quickly. “What assistant?”

“His name is Henry Patton. He’s getting us checked in at the town’s one and only hotel.”

“One is all we need, at least for the time being. Wasn’t Big Bend out of your way?”

“It was,” he conceded. “However, I’ve got an ulterior motive.”

Of course, he had an ulterior motive . Thadeus Baker was a smarmy businessman. He always had an angle of some sort… a fact she knew all too well.

“If you’ll give me a few minutes to pack up the finished costumes, I’ll let you get back to the hotel. Or, if you’d prefer, I’ll deliver the package to the front desk as soon as it’s ready.”

“No rush, my dear. We’ll be here until tomorrow afternoon. We’re leaving on the three o’clock train south.”

“I’ll be sure to drop everything off by four this afternoon,” she told him, edging toward the door and hoping he’d take the hint.

“I’d love it if you’d have dinner with me tonight,” Thad said. “Henry and I are going to Los Angeles to meet with some motion picture backers, and I was hoping I could convince you to come along.”

“No thank you. I still have my grandmother to consider, and I’ve not yet made a decision on my future career plans.”

“Just hear me out. You’re young, very lovely when you’re all decked out, and could easily become a star. All I want is the chance to convince you of my ideas.”

Eliza shook her head firmly. Then, to emphasize her choice, she pulled the door open so he could leave. “As I said, ‘no thank you’. You’ve wasted your time making this detour.”

Thad’s gray gaze narrowed, and his lip curled in anger. She knew from her past dealings with him, he never took rejection well or without an entitled response. “You’re making a mistake, Eliza. I can ruin your career, and I’m not talking about just acting. I can make sure you’re never hired as a costume designer again.”

She squared her shoulders and motioned toward the open door. “Do whatever eases your hurt feelings, Mister Baker. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

He spun around and made his way out onto the street, turning toward the hotel. Eliza watched through the window until he was nearly out of sight before returning to her workroom.

Eliza arrived home promptly at three. Already bundled up to leave, Missus Hamlin gave her a recap on Gram’s busy day.

“She had visitors,” the woman reported. “The reverend and his wife, Missus Bellamy, and the marshal.”

“Co… Marshal Stewart was here?”

“Yes. He dropped by for a visit.” Gertie smiled, and said, “Nice fellow that Stewart boy. Grown into a right good lawman.”

“He has,” Eliza agreed. “Sheriff Stewart, rest his soul, would have been very proud.”

“That he would. I’ll be off now. Are you sure you won’t need me until after the holiday?”

“My work at the shop is all done and delivered,” Eliza confirmed. “I’ll be here for Gram until after the new year.”

“She’s doing so much better,” Gertie said. “It’s almost as if all it took for her recovery was for you to come home.”

“Then, I suppose, it’s a good thing that I did.” When Gertie stepped out onto the porch, Eliza handed over Gertie’s weekly pay and told her, “Have a wonderful holiday. We’ll see you at services on Christmas Eve.”

Rather than her parlor chair, Gram was seated at the wooden desk in the corner. Papers littered the surface.

“Gram, you look busy,” Eliza commented. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t think so,” Jillian responded. “At least not yet.”

“I hear you had a handful of visitors today.”

“That I did. The reverend and his missus came by to talk about the church’s roof repair fund. Edora Bellamy stopped by with the sign-up sheet for the Christmas potluck for after services on the twenty-fourth.” Pausing to consult the ledger in front of her, Gram added, “I put us down for one of your fancy sweet pea salads and a pecan pie. And, of course, I contributed to the annual monetary gift for the reverend.”

“And Cole? Why was Cole here?”

“Cole stopped by to report on an errand I requested he undertake,” Gram explained.

“What kind of errand?”

“When the reverend left after morning tea, I asked him to drop off a note to Mister Jennings at the bank. Cole was following through with what was in that note.”

“You’re paying for the roof repair, aren’t you?”

“Not all of it,” Gram insisted. “They’ve raised almost half. I’m just covering the remainder. Mister Jennings gave Cole an envelope to take to the church, but he was to say it was an anonymous donation.”

“So, Cole knows of your… um… circumstances?”

“He knows I like to donate to things anonymously, but he has no idea of the extent of my finances.”

“He’s a U.S. Marshal, Gram. I’m sure he could find out if he wanted to,” Eliza pointed out.

“He probably could, but I doubt he’d snoop. He’s too honorable a man.” Gram closed her ledger and sat back in the chair. “Enough about my day. How was yours? Did you get Edora’s dress done?”

“Done and delivered. However, that wasn’t the only thing that happened today.”

“Really?”

“My old theater producer, Mister Baker—”

“The weaselly fellow you were telling me about?”

“Yes, him. He showed up at the shop. Apparently, he and his assistant are on their way to California, and he stopped by to try and talk me into going with them.”

A frown played across her grandmother’s face, the look of worry clouding her features. Eliza’s heart wrenched and she rushed to reassure Gram of her decision.

“I told him I had no intention of going with him to California, or anywhere for that matter, and that my place was here with you.”

“Eliza June, don’t feel as if you have to stifle your dreams on account of me.”

“I’m not, Gram. Honest. I have no desire to go to Los Angeles, and especially not with the likes of Thadeus Baker.”

“What about New York? Do you think you’ll go back?”

Eliza drew a breath, and admitted, “It was always my dream, since I was a child and you used to make me the most elaborate costumes for all the school plays. Yet, since coming home, I’ve found more peace and sense of accomplishment than I did in seven years in New York.”

“But can you be happy here in Big Bend?”

“I believe so. It feels right to be part of a tight-knit community again. I love being able to take time to attend church and rejoice in my faith among family and friends. Back in New York I was always running out of church as soon as the minister finished his sermon and rushing straight to the theater for the matinee performance.”

“There’s no rushing in a town like Big Bend,” Gram reminded her. “What did Mister Baker say when you turned him down?”

“He said exactly what I expected. He threatened to ruin my career, as both an actress and a costume designer.” Eliza shrugged, and admitted, “His threats mean nothing to me, and I told him so. After he left the shop, I bundled up the last of my costume work and delivered the parcel to the hotel. Just dropping it off felt like a weight being lifted from my shoulders.”

“I admit, I’ll be thrilled to have you stay. But… I’ll also be the first to shoo you out the door if I sense you’re unhappy.”

“With any luck, I’ll find plenty to keep me happy.”

Gram grinned broadly, and suggested, “Perhaps you could start by snaring yourself a handsome husband. I happen to know a very fine young man who’s available.”

“Mind your own beeswax, Gram. Whatever happens between me and Cole… if anything… will come naturally or not at all.”

“Fine. I’ll stay out of it,” Jillian insisted. “Now, sit down here and let’s figure out what we’re going to make for Christmas dinner in case we need to place an order at the mercantile.”