“In tying a flower, extreme lightness must be exercised in the handling, and, if necessary, the cotton should be left rather loose in order to avoid pulling the flower in at all.”
—Practical Millinery
Sioux Falls
Monday morning, October 26
Reba stopped counting electric trolley poles as she reached the intersection of Ninth and Phillips. She inhaled slowly to steady her breathing then checked her wristwatch. While she’d probably walked quicker than she would on a regular basis, she’d cut four minutes off her best time while walking from the boardinghouse to the millinery. That she didn’t have Father with her lessened her time, too.
She sighed. Him being here to help her set up the boutique had been the best two weeks of her life. And all they’d done was work in her millinery during the day and return to the boardinghouse for supper and sleep. No theater visits. No trips to the park. The only shopping they’d done was to buy things for the store.
But he couldn’t stay forever.
He needed to go home to the farm and to Mother.
“You won’t be alone,” Father had said before boarding the train yesterday. “God is with you. He will never leave you or forsake you.”
She knew it. She believed it. But that hadn’t stopped her from crying her way from the train depot to the boardinghouse.
A trio of young women strolled past, dressed in the style Reba had quickly adopted—white shirt and matching ankle-length skirt, thin black tie, black stockings and shoes. Instead of a simple straw hat, she wore a more elaborate one with feathers and silk flowers. Until she opened the boutique, there was no need to wear her nicer dresses.
With a firm grip on her tapestry bag, Reba hurried across Ninth Street. She reached the front of Huss Bakery when she noticed someone was standing in front of her millinery. She took a hesitant step forward. Then another. And another. A man in a black suit leaned against the door, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest, a flat tweed cap over his face to shield his eyes from the morning sun.
Reba placed her foot on the bottom step. “Levi, what are you doing here?”
He slid his cap off his face. “I’m here for you.”
A loud groan escaped before Reba could stop it. “I told you—I’m not leaving.”
“Then I’ll have to convince you.”
Reba hurried up the steps. “No! I’m not convincible.”
“We’ll see.” He cocked an eyebrow, his lips easing up in a mischievous grin. He was flirting with her, and the worst part was—some little part of her wanted to flirt back.
“Levi, don’t look at me like that.”
“I can’t help it,” he said, his tone serious. “I love you, Reba Diehl, and I’m not leaving. You were right about me never courting you like a suitor should. I’m going to now. I’m going to prove to you that my love for you is real.”
A little pain grew in her chest. She must have taxed herself too much in walking so quickly to the millinery. “Don’t do this. Don’t make this hard on either of us. Your family needs you at home.”
“They can manage a little while without me.”
He moved closer … much closer. So close that her breath caught in panic over his nearness. Her heart began to beat a little faster. He wouldn’t draw her to him and kiss her. He just wouldn’t. He was Levi Webber. He wasn’t some rogue in a dime novel. His father was a deacon. His grandfather had been a deacon. His great-grandfather … well, she had no idea, but she did know Levi was a decade from becoming a deacon himself. If the man had believed they were engaged and not kissed her, then he certainly wouldn’t now when he knew full well they weren’t engaged. Or even courting.
Yet—
He took her hand, the one not clenching her tapestry bag, and raised it to his lips. “I’m not leaving without you.” His kiss brushed against her skin with aching tenderness.
She nodded, unable to think of another argument, unable to look away from his lovely green eyes. Dozens of people could be on the street watching them, and she didn’t care. She wanted to relish this moment—this feeling she was about to float away—as long as possible. She liked this confident, romantic man standing in front of her. Since he was willing to leave the farm to woo her, then maybe he would be willing to leave the farm forever to win her love.
Levi cleared his throat. He took a step back. “I took a room at the Cataract, and I have a job interview later this week at the John Deere Plow Company.”
“How … uhh …” Reba gave her head a little shake to clear the muddle he’d made of it. “How could you have arranged all that this morning? It’s only eight o’clock.”
He shrugged. “I arrived on Friday.”
“What? Why didn’t you come by?”
“I had plans to make.”
“What plans?”
He winked. “Courting-you plans.”
Reba nipped at her bottom lip, accepting that nothing she could say could convince him to move on with his life. “All right.”
“All right?”
“You may court me.” Ignoring the pleasure she felt in saying those words, Reba reached inside her tapestry bag for the key to the boutique. She tapped the key on his chest. “You’d better believe me when I say I’m not going to fall in love with you. I promise, I’m not going to live on a farm ever again. Sioux Falls is my home.”
Grinning, he took the key from her. “What can I do to help?”
The next morning Reba arrived at her boutique to see Levi sitting on the front step, using a folded newspaper to shield his eyes from the sun. “There’s my girl looking pretty as a penny.”
Her heart increased its beat, yet she responded, “I’m not your girl.”
A smile curled one side of his mouth. His handsome face said it all—“You’ll always be my girl.”
“Levi, please go. You have other things you can do,” she said as she climbed the steps.
He followed. “Not really.”
“I’m just making hats today.”
Levi took the keys from her. “What can I do to help?”
She eyed him. “Don’t you have a job interview?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for it?”
He gave her a bemused look.
“Oh, good gracious.” Reba slid between him and the door, blocking the lock. “Is this going to be a habit for you?”
He looked heavenward and frowned, as if he was giving her words some serious thought. “Takes three weeks of repeat behavior to make something habitual.”
“Good,” she said. “You can’t keep this up for three weeks. You need a job. Better yet, go home.”
“Three weeks is no time at all when you’re with the woman you love.” He winked. “Besides, the way to win a girl’s heart is through her hat.”
“I’m fairly certain that’s not how the saying goes,” she said with some enjoyment.
“It’s not?” He gave her a bland look. “Then I shall have to find some other way to court you.” He gripped her arms then lifted her out of the way so he could unlock the door. “I know you aren’t in love with me. I know I’ve done a poor job conveying my feelings. I love you, and I will do whatever necessary to convince you my love is true. Now let’s get to work. Your boutique needs to be ready for its grand opening.”
Reba watched as he unlocked then opened the door. He smiled, motioning her inside. She smiled. Whatever had come over Levi—well, she liked it. Clearly Father had been wrong. Men could change.
Late afternoon
Saturday, November 6
Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the workroom’s threshold as Reba spoke with the last customer in the boutique. She seemed like someone of importance, with her mannerisms and air. The two women stood at the full-length mirror. The statuesque brunette tipped her head left then right, evaluating the gold silk ribbon covering the black straw hat. Reba stood on the footstool she needed when attending to a tall customer. In her hand she held an assortment of hat pins from the Sterling Company in Rhode Island. Not that the name had meant anything to him. “Refined ladies,” Reba had explained, “would know.”
Apparently so, because she’d sold all but the four in her hand.
She’d even sold the enameled sets that came in velvet-lined presentation boxes with DIEHL’S FINE MILLINERY imprinted on the satin. He’d never thought of giving her hat pins. Nor would he have guessed that most of those presentation boxed sets would be purchased by men to give to their sweethearts. In all the times he’d been in Reba’s boutique, he’d never seen a male customer. Mr. Diehl had been right: women liked pretty things. And if anything could be said about Reba’s boutique, pretty was an apt description.
He glanced about the millinery, impressed at the sight. He’d visited the two other millineries in Sioux Falls, but neither of them were on the main thoroughfare through town, nor were they decorated as elegantly as Reba’s. Neither smelled of flowers. Reba’s did because she’d placed potted orchids around the room. What woman wouldn’t want to shop at a boutique like Diehl’s Fine Millinery? Clearly, enough of them in Sioux Falls did. After six day of sales, all but four hats had sold. If Reba kept selling at this pace, she’d be out of stock by noon on Monday. Deservedly so.
She wasn’t only good at making hats. She thrived at selling them.
Reba knew how to sell beauty because, ever since he could remember, Reba had sought beauty, had drawn beauty to her. It was no wonder she wanted more than life on a farm. It was no wonder she wanted more than to be the wife of a dairyman.
Ma had been right—Reba would never fall in love with him as long as he thought her dreams were unimportant and her hard work was nothing more than a hobby. He had to support and encourage her. But if he did that, and her millinery continued to succeed, then she would never come home with him. He was a dairyman, not a city slicker.
How could he compete with all of this?
Laughter came from the front of the shop.
His stomach turning sour, Levi ducked into the workroom. He sank onto the chair beside Reba’s workbench and leaned forward, his head in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’d compared the prices of her hats, pins, and sundry items against the prices at the Bee Hive Department Store next door. Everything she sold was more expensive. A few items were even twice the price!
With sales like this, there’d be no reason for her to close the millinery in three months. No reason for her to come home with him.
The bell tied on the front doorknob jingled. After a pause, it jingled again.
The customer must have left.
Levi checked his watch. Sixteen minutes after five. He released a wry chuckle. This was the earliest she’d closed all week.
Reba dashed into the workroom.
Levi stood, opened his mouth to speak, then—
BAM!
She hugged him tight. “She bought my hat! Oh, Levi! I couldn’t believe it was her—did you see her? Did you? She’s as beautiful as a Gibson Girl, and she bought my hat.” Reba released him. She lifted her hands over her head and twirled like she was six instead of twenty-three. “This is the best day ever!”
Levi nodded. “I can see that.”
Reba clasped his arm then bent over, her face red and splotchy as she gasped for air. “Oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Who was she?”
“Musical Selection.”
“Huh?”
She burst out laughing.
Levi stared in awe. He’d never seen her so elated. He swerved her over to the chair and nudged her into sitting. “Catch your breath and explain.”
Reba’s lips formed an O, and she released her breath slowly. Her face returned to its normal color. “For my fifteenth birthday, Father took me to Germania Hall. That woman was the first performer. She was listed as ‘Musical Selection.’ Today, Miss Claire Van Dyke is the headline performer at the New Theater. She bought my hat. Do you realize what this means?”
“Women will want your hats because Miss Van Dyke wears one?”
“Exactly!” Standing, she gripped his arms. “I hoped to sell through my inventory after three months. Father said six months was more realistic, which was why he advised I sign a six-month lease, but I’ve almost sold out in six days. Can you believe it? Miss Van Dyke ordered two more. Several singers she knows in St. Paul will be here next month. She suggested I stock up because her friends love to shop.”
“That’s great. You’re really good at making hats.”
“You sound surprised.”
Levi shrugged. He was surprised at her skill, at how quickly her business was succeeding, and at how unsettled that made him feel. “My news isn’t as exciting, but I got the job at the John Deere Plow Company. I start Monday. It’s only inventorying right now, but—”
Reba squealed and hugged him tight. “I’ve been praying that God would open the door if it was His will for you to stay in Sioux Falls. This is exactly what we need.”
Levi grinned. Not I need. We need.
She tilted her head to the side in a bashful manner. Then she smiled, which was all the encouragement he needed. Hoping she couldn’t see his hands shake, he cupped her face and brushed his lips against hers. She didn’t respond by kissing him back, but neither did she pull away. Instead, she sighed. And so he kissed her again. This time she responded.
If he’d only kissed her months—years—ago, they’d be married already and could—
Levi drew back a little too abruptly. “Uh, we should eat. Supper. Go now—the, uh, restaurant down the street … they … I made reservations.”
She frowned at him. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?” he echoed.
“I have orders I need to fill. I can’t eat. I need to make more hats.” She glanced around the room, nipping at her bottom lip. “There’s so much to do.”
Levi nodded. “I’ll bring something back here for us to share.”
“Thank you.”
As they walked to the front door, something pricked at his mind. Something she’d said about—
“Did you say you signed a six-month lease?”
She stopped at the door. “October 6 to April 6.”
“Six months? I can’t stay here that long.”
She looked like she was about to say something but then thought better of it. “How long did you plan on staying?”
“Three months.”
She nodded slowly, her expression losing its joy. “Go home, Levi. I won’t change my mind. I’m not giving up my millinery because I enjoyed kissing you.”
He stepped outside yet blocked her from closing the door. “Reba Diehl, I’m not giving up on you. I’ll escort you to church in the morning.”