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Suitor by Design. Christine JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Suitor by Design - Christine  Johnson


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      At Mother’s command, Minnie shot up. “I’m coming.” She rubbed her eyes.

      Mother set a lit lamp on her dresser. “The Saturday after the ball is often busy, what with the guests and all the revelry the night before. Someone always needs a repair. Hems torn out, underarms ripped and who knows what. It’s different every year. And now that Ruth and Sam have added cleaning, it’s sure to be busy. Guests could come pouring in.”

      “Guests.” That woke her up. Saturday meant Vince would return. “What time is it?”

      “Eight o’clock. I let you sleep as late as I could.”

      “Eight o’clock?” Minnie scurried out of bed. She had less than an hour to dress and do her hair and eat breakfast. How could she ever look presentable in that amount of time, especially when she couldn’t put on the face powder and lipstick until she reached the shop?

      “The oatmeal is ready,” Mother said as she headed downstairs.

      Minnie squinted at her reflection in the wall mirror. She looked dreadful. Hair stuck out every which way, and blue half-moons circled under her puffy eyes.

      She splashed cold water on her face and pressed a damp cloth to her eyes.

      Though Vince Galbini hadn’t exactly excited her at their first meeting, maybe this time would go better. He was older than she’d imagined, and that crooked, flattened nose made him look more like a prizefighter than a movie star, but he was definitely on his way up, and that had to be worth something. Though he didn’t wear a wedding band, she couldn’t be certain he was unmarried. Today, she’d unearth the truth on that subject.

      As she dressed, her energy returned. With Vince’s return came the start of her new job. She hadn’t exactly told Mother or Daddy yet, but they’d understand. They both liked Peter. They might not care that she would have to work evenings at the garage.

      She tugged a brush through her wavy hair. Maybe she wouldn’t have to tell Mother or Daddy about the job. She could simply present them with her wages after she finished. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful surprise? She tucked the face powder and lip color into her handbag and headed for the stairs.

      “Minnie?” Daddy’s soft voice drew her to a halt. He leaned on a cane in the doorway to his bedroom.

      “Daddy, you shouldn’t be up.”

      After the seizure last summer, which Doc Stevens attributed to his weak heart, he spent most of his time in his room. Mother brought his meals there, and Ruthie gave him the receipts at the end of each day so he could do the bookwork.

      He waved off her concern. “I’m fine.” But he leaned against the door frame.

      “Let me help you back to bed.”

      He managed a grin. “I’m not an invalid quite yet.”

      “Oh, Daddy. I didn’t mean that.”

      “I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you.” His blue eyes misted. “How quickly the years pass. I remember holding you shortly after you were born, and now you’ve grown into a fine, responsible woman.”

      Minnie clutched her handbag to her midsection and averted her gaze. The cosmetics secreted inside burned like hot coals.

      “How pretty you are,” he said softly. “I like your hair. It reminds me of the style worn by Mariah Simmons.”

      She pushed the unruly locks behind her left ear. “I suppose it is similar.”

      “She’s a fine woman. You could do worse than to emulate her.”

      Minnie kept her head down so he didn’t see the guilt. She wasn’t emulating Mariah or anyone else that Daddy would consider respectable.

      “Give me a hug before you go to work,” he said.

      She set down her handbag and held on to his thin shoulders as he squeezed her tight.

      He tapped a finger to her chin. “Do good work, my little princess, and don’t be in too much of a hurry to grow up.”

      “All right, Daddy.” He’d meant to encourage her, yet as she picked up her handbag, she felt terrible.

      * * *

      “I could use some advice,” Peter admitted to Hendrick once they were alone at the breakfast table.

      Mariah had left to get the children ready for a toboggan outing at the hill in the park. Ordinarily, Hendrick would help, but he was headed to the airfield for the test of the new engine. Instead, Pastor Gabe and his wife were joining Mariah for the sledding expedition. Judging from the disputes and shrieking already under way, the three adults would have their hands full, especially when Pastor Gabe’s two children were added to the mix.

      Hendrick eyed him solemnly. “Advice on what?”

      Peter squirmed. “Women.”

      “Ah, women.” Hendrick dug into his eggs with more fervor. “Mariah might be a better person to ask. Or Anna.”

      “No. I want a guy’s perspective.” Even though Peter had gotten closer to his foster brother over the years, he still felt awkward asking such a personal question.

      “All right, but I warn you I don’t have a lot of experience.”

      “You caught Mariah’s attention.”

      Hendrick shrugged. “That was more than likely God’s doing. I said a lot of dumb things around her.”

      “You did?” Peter was feeling better already.

      “Afraid so. I even left her.”

      “I remember that. You went to New York, right?”

      “Long Island. Dumbest thing I ever done.” Every once in a while Hendrick got his grammar wrong, just like Peter. “By the time I realized how much I missed her, I figured I’d blown my chances.”

      “But you didn’t.”

      Hendrick grinned. “She’s a forgiving woman. But enough of me. What’s your question?”

      Peter looked at his cold scrambled eggs and half-eaten slice of bread. “Just wondering how a guy can impress a gal.”

      “Anyone in particular?”

      That was the part that made Peter squirm. “Minnie Fox.”

      “I see.” Hendrick scooped up the last of his eggs, and Peter had to wait for him to finish. “She’s pretty young. What? Eighteen?”

      “Almost nineteen.”

      “Humph. Same age as you. Don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time. I didn’t get married until I was twenty-eight. Wait it out.”

      That didn’t help, especially since Peter was a bit older than he’d claimed to be. “But she’s looking at every other guy.”

      Hendrick quirked an eyebrow. “Anyone in particular?”

      “Vince.” Peter’s shoulders drooped. “He’s your age at least. Why would she think he’s so great?”

      “Because he’s new. Give her time. The newness will wear off. Then you mosey up and show her who she really should be looking at.”

      Peter frowned. “How?”

      “Like I said, you should probably ask a lady.” He must have spotted Mariah, because he called out to her.

      She ducked a head into the kitchen, looking rather frazzled. “What is it?”

      “What do women want from a guy?” Hendrick said.

      Peter slumped down in his chair and shoveled the cold eggs into his mouth as fast as he could.

      “Hendrick,” she said, “what a time to ask something like that. I


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