Chapter Seven

 

A couple days later, Bat just happened to be walking by Leta's Seamstress Shop at closing time. She was twisting the key in the lock. She looked up and smiled at him when she recognized him.

Bat tugged his hat brim and greeted, “Evenin’, Miss Leta. How’s the bonnet comin’?”

“I’ve gotten it about half done,” She said as she dropped the door key in her black receptacle and pulled the draw strings tight. “I'm glad you came by. I've wanted to ask you if there is any special trim you would like sewn on the bonnet to dress it up?”

“I reckon I should just leave that up to ya seein’ as how I’m not much to know those things,” Bat said. “Well, I won’t keep ya. It’s supper time.”

“That it is,” Leta said. “Wait a minute, Bat.” She tapped her lips. “Say, I have an idea. I feel as if I owe you a meal. Why don’t you come home with me for supper? We can discuss what I can do special to dress up your bonnet. I can show you some choices of trim which might spark an idea about what this special woman of yours would be partial to.”

“Don’t want to have ya go to any trouble on my account,” Bat said bashfully. He winced inwardly at the mention of a special woman in his life that didn't exist.

“No trouble if you like scrambled eggs and fried potatoes. That's as quick a meal as I can make since I haven't been near a stove all day as you well know,” she said and giggled.

“Some of my favorite food. Believe I’ll take ya up on that,” Bat said, taking the arm she held out to him.

After supper, Leta escorted Bat into the parlor. “Sit for a spell and visit with me if you’re not in any hurry to get somewhere else.”

Bat wondered if this was where he was supposed to say he had to leave to visit his special friend. “No hurry, but you've had a long day at the shop and must be tired.”

“I am that, but I need to unwind for a spell before I retire for the night. Sitting here does that for me,” Leta explained as she eased onto the brown velvet settee.

Bat surveyed the room as he sat down in the rocker beside the settee. “Right nice home ya have, Leta.”

“I like it,” She said proudly then she frowned. “I just wish I had it paid for.”

“You’re a hard worker with a successful business, so that’s gonna happen. I can just bet on that,” Bat assured her.

“Well, thank you for your confidence. Now about the bonnet. Do you think the lucky lady would like some sort of trim on it to dress it up?”

“If ya say so, I’ll go along with that,” Bat said. “I ain't much of a hand to know that sort of thing.”

Leta rose and walked over to a roll top desk. She picked up a small box and brought it back. She lifted out several cards of trim. “I have all of these to choose from. See one you like?”

Bat made the effort to study the trims. “Nope, Leta. Reckon ya better pick for me.”

Leta set the box on the settee beside her and rubbed a wrinkle out of her skirt. “Who did you say the bonnet was for?”

“I didn’t say.” It tickled Bat that she was curious enough to fish for a name. If he could tell anyone his secret, it would be this nice lady. She was easy to talk to and a good listener just like Hannah and Billie.

However, he didn’t want her to think badly of him. He was pretty sure Leta would think he was crazy if he told her he didn’t have a clue who he’d give the bonnet to when she finished it.

So he changed the subject. “That sure was nice of ya to fix supper for me, but it's like more work to cook when you've been workin' at the shop all day. We'll have to go back to the hotel soon. My treat this time, and someone else can do the cookin' for us. That way ya can just sit and enjoy the meal.”

“All right, I will. You're very thoughtful,” Leta said, giving him that warm smile he'd began to expect.

That Sunday on the walk to church, Billie burst out with, “So you asked Leta out to lunch the other day at the hotel? That was pretty daring. In front of a big crowd of people that could gawk and talk about you eating lunch with the town seamstress. What do you think of Leta?”

“She's nice enough. To be admired, I suppose for being a successful business woman. Not many women can stand on their own two feet and keep the bills paid without needing a man to help them. Reckon she just ain't my type.” Bat stopped walking and glanced at Billie. She was studying him as if she'd just caught him in a lie. “Oh, now wait a minute. It ain't what ya think. Me bein' with Miss Leta was only business.”

Billie lowered her parasol and put her hands on her hips. “Business? Really? Can you explain away Leta's next door neighbor, Mrs. Huntman, telling me and any other woman that wants to listen, she saw you going into Leta's house one evening this week. She said you stayed for all evening until bedtime. That business, too?”

Bat felt his face grow hot. “Mrs. Huntman should learn to mind her own business. As a matter of fact, goin' to Leta's house was business, too.”

“Unhuh, Just so you know, Leta said the same thing when I talked to her so you two are keeping your stories straight. Well, now answer me one more question. Who you giving the bonnet to that she's making for you?”

“Listen, you're goin' to make us late for church if you don't stop talkin' and start walkin'. Hurry up,” Bat said, walking faster.

Billie grabbed Bat's arm and pulled him to a stop. “No, you are the one that will make us late if you don't answer me. I'm not moving from this spot until you do,” Billie said as she folded her arms over her chest and braced her high top shoes in the grass.

“What was the question?” Bat said, waving at Otis Campbell as the elderly man headed up the church steps.

Billie's eyes narrowed. “Stop stalling. After all this time of telling me none of the women in town will do, apparently you have someone special in mind that you failed to mention to me. Who is Leta making that bonnet?”

“Why did Leta have to tell ya about the bonnet? She told me she didn't talk about her customers orders. And to think I believed her. Don't ya women ever keep a secret from each other?” Bat complained.

“Very rarely. Ordinarily, Leta would have kept this one. She's very conscientious about not talking about her customers orders. If it hadn't been for your being so secretive about who gets that bonnet she's making, she wouldn't have said a thing to me.

Leta hoped I'd know who you meant to give the bonnet to before she finishes it. She had some questions about the style of the bonnet that you weren't answering.

Leta has a lot of customers in this town, and she didn't want the lady that gets that bonnet to be unhappy with her work. That would be bad for her business.

She said you weren't any help at all when she asked you questions about the bonnet. I told her I wasn't surprised. You didn't even know whether you had a mop and broom at your house when I asked you.” Billie stopped talking to catch her breath.

“Oh, Billie, you didn't say that, did ya?” Bat asked, offended.

“Relax, I'm just pulling your leg. I told Leta I didn't have a clue who the bonnet is for. You hadn't mentioned ordering one from her. I knew it wasn't for my birthday or your two daughters so I couldn't help her. I'm thinking there's a woman you have in mind you failed to mention. Now I am dying of curiosity. So who is the bonnet for?”

Bat shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked at his feet. “I can't tell ya.”

“Why not? You haven't kept any secrets from me up until now about the women you've been sizing up for a wife. Which one is the bonnet for?” Billie insisted.

Bat twisted, looking up and down the street to see if anyone was watching them. This was taking way too long, and the line was getting shorter at the church steps. “Oh, come on, Billie. Do we have to go into this right now? We're goin' to be late for church,” he pleaded.

“I told you that will be your fault. Give me an answer,” Billie demanded.

Bat hissed, “I can't tell ya, because I don't know. All right! Now are ya happy?”

Billie looked puzzled. “What do you mean you don't know? You ordered a woman's bonnet. If you don't know who does?”

“I don't know, because I don't have a woman in mind yet to give the bonnet to,” he mumbled.

“What sense does that make? Why order a bonnet made if you don't have someone to give it to?” Billie asked.

“I just wanted one to give her as a gift for when I do find a woman that will marry me,” Bat said, feeling as if he wasn't making sense.

Billie confirmed that when she asked, “What woman in her right mind would want a gift of a bonnet she didn't have a say in picking? Where did you get such a dumb idea like that?”

“At the time, I didn't think it was a dumb idea. Ya aren't going to tell Miss Leta this, are ya?” Bat asked, feeling cornered.

Billie shrugged her shoulders. “No, you got yourself in this predicament. I don't want her to hear how dumb my brother is from me and make you look bad. I think she kind of likes you, and I'm beginning to wonder why she would. I don't want to be the one to change that. You're on your own getting out of this mess the best way you can. Come along. You're making me late for church.”

Bat threw his hands up in the air. He couldn't win no matter what he did.

One day through the week, Bat stopped to see Leta at the shop. Mrs. Huntman was just leaving. She smiled at him conspiratorially like they shared a secret. Fact is, it rankered him that Mrs. Huntman had already shared his secret with every woman in town. Bat gave her a sour look and kept walking.

Leta had her arms resting on the counter as she watched him pass the elderly woman. “Nice to see you again, Bat. You have a problem with Mrs. Huntman?”

“Not that I know of unless she said something to ya about one,” Bat hedged. He hoped Leta hadn't heard any of the rumors Mrs. Huntman had started about her and him.

“As a matter of fact, your name did come up,” Leta said, watching him for a reaction.

“Now why would that be?” Bat asked irritably.

“Mrs. Huntman was wondering what your business was that kept you coming into my shop so often?”

“Awe, nah, what did ya tell that nosy woman?” Bat asked, feeling like he had been put on the spot.

Leta's lips twitched at the corners. “I told her I never discussed my customers to anyone.”

“I'm obliged to ya for that,” Bat declared, feeling relieved. “Now why I came in this time was because I wanted to know if ya would like to accompany me to church this next Sunday?”

“Why that would be nice, but ….,” Leta hesitated, seeming indecisive.

“What's wrong? Ya don't want to pay any attention to what old busy body Huntman thinks,” Bat said.

Leta grinned. “She has nothing to do with what I was thinking. I've seen you escort your sister to services for some time now. She might feel left out if you took me instead. She's one of my best customers. I certainly don't want to lose her business because of hard feelings.”

“Oh, Billie isn't like that. She won't mind. She is the most independent soul I ever saw. She was goin' to church by herself long before I started walkin' with her. She wouldn't mind goin' alone as long as I tell her ahead of time.” The thought suddenly occurred to Bat that Leta might feel uneasy about being seen alone with him. Maybe she would like it better if Billie was with them sort of like a chaperone. “But if it would make ya feel any easier about goin' with me to church, we can pick up Billie and go together.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Leta agreed. “Your sister is a good customer. She's a really nice person. I admire her a lot, and I'd enjoy visiting with her outside of here for a change.”

“I feel the same way about her myself,” Bat said.

“In fact, if that bonnet is for Mrs. Sommers, I wouldn't say a word to let the cat out of the bag. I'd understand if you're trying to surprise her or someone else,” Leta suggested, fishing for the name of the woman the bonnet was a gift for.

“That's right kind of ya to keep the bonnet a secret. That's the way I want it,” Bat evaded, touching the brim of his hat as he backed to the door. “I best be goin' now, Leta. See ya Sunday mornin'.”