42

Cassie spun in front of the framed mirror in Faith’s spare room. The double row of flounces on the skirt of her silk gown shimmered in the light. She held her hands out to admire the lace ruffles at her wrists. “This will be the most beautiful dress any bride ever wore. Amy is so gifted.”

“She’ll be happy to know you’re pleased.” Faith spoke from a slipper chair next to the mirror. Little Alexander played on the rug next to her, waving his legs in the air and grabbing for his toes.

“When do you think she’ll remove the final basting and finish the seams?”

“She should have the dress ready by the end of next week. Plenty of time.”

Cassie moved carefully across the room and turned so Faith could help her out of the dress. “Not so much time. Today’s the third. The twenty-fifth isn’t that far away.”

Faith paused in removing pins from the back of the gown to pat Cassie’s shoulder. “September was upon us before we knew it this year, wasn’t it?”

“So many things happened in August. I’m glad the month is over.”

“Have you heard from your mother?” Faith’s voice carried sympathy.

“No, but it’s only been a couple of weeks.” A familiar ache settled around her heart. “Maybe she doesn’t know what to say now that she’s not playing a role.”

“Give yourselves time. Healing will come.” She removed the last of the pins and held the shoulder seams while Cassie stepped out of the gown.

“I do hope so. Jacob needs to forgive her as well. She’s treated him shamefully. He hasn’t said as much, but I know he’s glad she’s in Price City and not here with me.”

Jacob tapped the end of a pen holder on the ledger page. The totals looked promising, but not what he’d hoped. Certainly not enough to comply with Byrne’s demands—if he planned to comply, which he didn’t. The purchase of the new range pushed August’s expenses over what he’d anticipated when he paid Colin for his share.

He smiled to himself. Cassie’s pleasure at having her own oven for pies made the additional expense worth every penny. Stock orders for September would need to be trimmed, but he’d find a way. Perhaps Mrs. Fielder could offer suggestions for lowering meal costs.

Since the dinner hour had passed, he knew she’d be relaxing with a mug of coffee before commencing supper preparations. He tucked the ledger into a drawer and crossed the empty dining room.

As he’d assumed, Mrs. Fielder sat beside a worktable with a mug in one hand. Becca and Cassie were bent over another table, assembling pies. When she noticed him, Cassie flashed a brilliant smile.

“Jac—Mr. West. Did you come for an afternoon snack? There are a few biscuits left from dinner.”

“Not today.” He stepped close enough to give her hand a squeeze. “I came for advice from Mrs. Fielder about cutting food costs for the next month or so.”

The mug thunked on the tabletop. “I never knew you were short of cash.” Mrs. Fielder stared at him with wide eyes. “We’ve been plenty busy.”

He held up his hand. “It’s temporary. I made an investment in the business last month, then bought the new range, so I’m stretched right now.”

Fresh admiration for Cassie swept over him. He’d confided his money situation to her almost a month ago, yet she hadn’t shared the news with Mrs. Fielder. A good quality in a businessman’s wife.

Mrs. Fielder rested her chin on her fist. “Well, I can make more stews. Beans and bacon can be dressed up with ketchup and molasses so no one knows they’re eating cheap. Did it for years with my young’uns. More potatoes and gravy, not so many steaks and chops.”

“I knew I could count on you. Is there some way to cut down on the amount of flour and lard you use?”

“I can make more cornbread, but most of the flour and lard goes into the pies.” She leveled her gaze on Cassie.

Cassie’s face flushed. “I don’t know how to make a pie without flour and lard.”

He shook his head. “Don’t change a thing on the pies. With Mrs. Fielder’s help, we’ll shave costs elsewhere.”

“How about we render our own lard now that we got two ranges? You can get pork fat cheap.”

No doubt about it. Mrs. Fielder was a gem. He’d increase her salary as soon as he could.

“If you teach me, I can make the lard,” Cassie said. “Seems only right, since I’m the one who uses the most.”

“Be happy to show you how. You’re a good learner.”

His heart filled with love as he looked at Cassie’s eager face. Three weeks and she’d be his wife. Everything he’d ever hoped for had come his way.

He turned when he heard footsteps. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. West,” Timothy said. “There’s a man here to see you. He’s waiting in the grocery.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

Keegan Byrne’s bulk filled the entrance. “I’m here to collect a debt.” His gaze skimmed over the room. “Or else.”

Jacob’s breathing slowed. His surroundings appeared in sharp focus. Cassie and the other two women watching him with wide eyes, Timothy fidgeting from foot to foot, tidy worktables, cookstoves—his life. He clenched his teeth.

Byrne lunged into the room, stopping a few feet in front of him. “I’m sure you don’t want your workers involved in our dealings. Shall we go to your office?”

“We can talk right here, Byrne.” Jacob let his cane fall to the floor and straightened to his full height.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

“Do your worst, Byrne. I’m through hiding from my past.” He glanced at Cassie, wondering if she’d walk out the door when she learned what he’d done.

“You’re even dumber than I thought you were.” His icy blue eyes narrowed. He held up his index finger. “I’ll give you one minute to think this over.”

“I’ve had two weeks. I don’t need another minute. You’re not getting a cent out of me.”

Byrne shook his head in mock sorrow. “You can’t bluff your way out of this, Westermann.” At Cassie’s gasp, he gave her a cold smile. “Bet he never told you that, did he, girlie? Did he tell you he’s spent time in jail for armed theft? More than once, isn’t that right, Jake?”

He held Cassie’s gaze and replied directly to her. “Yes. Three times.” He refused to justify himself. A confession was worthless if it came wrapped in excuses.

Cassie stared into Jacob’s eyes. His mother died when he was thirteen. No telling what he did to survive. She sidled next to him, took his arm, and faced Mr. Byrne. “How long ago did this happen?”

He shrugged. “Awhile. What difference does it make? He’s a jailbird.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s a well-respected man in this town. Your once-upon-a-time tales can’t change who he is now.” Her knees trembled, but she glared at Mr. Byrne without flinching.

Jenny moved to Cassie’s side. “What a boy does don’t count when he’s a man. I’ve worked for Mr. West since he came here eight years ago. He’s a good man through and through.”

“He gave me and my ma work when no one else would help.” Timothy’s young voice squeaked. “We’d be starvin’ if it weren’t for Mr. West.”

“His name’s not Mr. West. He’s Jake Westermann, from the Boston slums.”

Cassie raised her eyes to Jacob’s and he nodded confirmation.

“It was. I stood before a judge and changed it to Jacob West seventeen years ago. Jake Westermann doesn’t exist.”

“I know it’s not my place to interrupt white folks, but you’re houndin’ the wrong man.” Becca’s voice shook. “Don’t matter what his name is. No one here cares what he done back in Boston.”

“Maybe no one in here cares. After all, he pays you good, doesn’t he? I’ll go see what the men at the wagon factory or the brickyard think of your boss.” He swung toward the door, then stopped short.

Wash stood in the entrance, arms folded across his broad chest. He glowered down at Byrne. “Best you go back where you come from. Now.” Menace laced his deep voice. He stepped to one side and waited, his gaze never leaving the man’s face.

Byrne ducked around him. After a moment, a door slammed.

Cassie slumped against Jacob’s chest, not caring that they weren’t alone. “What a horrible man.”

His arms tightened around her. “He won’t be back, thanks to you—thanks to all of you.” She heard tears in his voice.

After Jacob returned to the grocery, she collapsed onto a chair. “I never dreamed I’d be able to stand up to someone like that. I was terrified.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” Jenny patted her shoulder. “You’re going to make Mr. West a fine wife. A man likes a woman who’ll take up for him.”

Poor Jacob. What a miserable life he’d led as a young man. She planned to spend the rest of her life making every day a joy.