"Of course you could," Agrippa agreed. "But you ain't going to."
"What?"
“Adelaide and I sew better than you and you know it. We just don't care for mending much." She glanced toward her twin and met a nod of agreement.
"You go on down to the General Merchandise and help Mr. Rhy," Adelaide told her. "Between chores we'll get this dress fixed up for you."
"That's not fair," Esme protested.
The fiddle playing in the corner stopped abruptly, and Pa's voice was warm but firm. "It's the fairest thing that's happened around here in a good long while."
Chapter Six
Monday morning arrived with a burst of springtime. Tiny green buds dotted the tree branches, patches of bright colors were sprinkled across the hillside, and the bright blue sky overhead heralded good things to come. Up on the mountain the snow was completely forgotten, and where the trees weren't shaded in morning fog, patches of laurel slicks dotted the horizon.
Cleavis Rhy noticed none of this. For him the day was as gray as his own thoughts. Only the fortuitous return of Miss Sophrona from tending her "windswept hair" had saved him from public humiliation yesterday afternoon. And even now it wasn't over. Although nothing was said in the presence of the innocent young woman, both his mother and the Tewksburys continued to look askance at him for the rest of the day.
With that thought clearly in his mind, it was no wonder he did not welcome the sight that greeted him when he arrived at the store.
Esme Crabb, her memorably ragged clothes covered by his work apron, was sweeping the store's porch.
"What in heaven's name are you doing?" The question was sharp, distinct, and to the point. Esme raised her head and offered a bright smile.
"Morning, Mr. Rhy," she answered sweetly. "It's sure gonna be one beautiful day, ain't it?"
Cleav approached the steps woodenly. He'd lost all patience with her crush. He was clearly furious. "I asked what you think you are doing here, young woman, and I want an answer!" Standing on the first step, he was eye to eye with Esme.
Knowing it took two to make a fight, Esme simply decided not to take offense. Leaning gamely against the broom handle she propped under her chin, her eyes were bright with the hint of laughter in her voice.
"Well," she said. "You did say you didn't want me peeping at your house no more. So, I come on down to the store. And I figured I might as well get started."
With a gesture Esme indicated the broom in her hand. "This is the first chore of the day, isn't it? First you dust the stock and then you sweep out."
Cleav took a deep breath and reminded himself that it was very impolite to throttle a young lady. "FirstIdust the stock and thenIsweep out," he said with deliberate calm. "It is my store, Miss Crabb."
She gave him a toothy grin. “Now, I told you to just call me Esme."
He set his jaw tightly and his eyes blazed. "Perhaps, Miss Crabb, I don't want to call you Esme."
Stepping onto the porch, he reached for the broom, and Esme relinquished it without a word.
"Give me my apron, Miss Crabb," he ordered.
"Sure," she answered, reaching back behind her to release the tie. “But, truth to tell, it looks better on me than it does on you."
A sound came through Cleav's lips that could only be described as a huff.
When Esme handed him the apron, he hurriedly slipped it over his head and crossed the long ties behind him, then tied it neatly in the front. He gestured at her, attempting to shoo his nemesis away as if she were a chicken or a stray cat. Then he commenced sweeping where Esme had left off, purposely looking away from her.
Esme took no offense and casually drifted back toward the door.
"Thanks for taking over for me," she said easily. "I didn't eat this morning and save to graces I'm sure looking forward to a little cracker and jelly."
As she stepped through the door, she hollered back over her shoulder, "Coffee's boiled if you want some."
Cleav stopped stock still and stared at the now-empty doorway in shock. "Coffee's boiled?" he repeated to himself, as if the words were some strange foreign phrase.
Cleaning the remaining dust on the porch with a vengeance, Cleav was finished in less than five minutes. His mind was scurrying in so many directions, he barely noticed the approach of old man Denny.
