Lizzie was already beaming. “I saw him right away, Mama. Hello!”
“Hello, Lizzie. You’re looking very fine today. Is that a new dress?”
She twirled like a top, showing off her apple green dress with the miniature bustle in the back. “It was Hannah’s dress first but Mama cut it down and made it all new for me. I love it.” She hugged Lily’s legs and thus prevented any forward movement.
Lily’s tentative smile was apologetic. “Lizzie, I can’t take a step. Mr. Shepard must have business here and we’re keeping him from it.”
“I do, but it can wait. I’d rather escort two lovely ladies to the drugstore for a fountain drink.”
“That’s kind of you.” Her narrowed blue-green eyes said itwas unfair of him. “I must decline. Lizzie and I are on our way to Mrs. Fish’s to pick up a pattern and material. It’s my job, Mr. Shepard.”
Roen heard what she didn’t say. Something along the lines of,I’m doing my job, why aren’t you doing yours?Still thinking about what Clay had told him that morning, he discovered he had just enough rascal in him to persevere. “We’ll pass the dress shop on our way back.”
“Need I point out that we’ll come to it before Mangold’s drugstore?”
“Huh. How about that.”
“Mama?” Lizzie’s hugged her mother’s legs a little tighter. “I would surely like a fizzy drink.”
Roen held up his hands as though the gesture could absolve him of responsibility. He knew the moment Lily relented because her lips parted and she blew out a shallow breath. He grinned.
“You understand I am not amused.”
“I understand.” Roen couldn’t rein in his grin, and when it deepened, a small dimple on the left side of his mouth was revealed. He did not miss that her gaze dropped to it. He didn’t know why women found it fascinating; some were moved to comment on it, others to touch it. Most recently that woman was Victorine Headley, but as she began to take a proprietary interest in his dimple, Roen found fewer and fewer reasons to smile. Thinking about Victorine was a sure way to sour his mood, so he stopped and gave all his attention to the woman with an expression that could best be described as mulish. “We should go.” He held out a hand to Lizzie, and the child immediately released her mother’s legs and put her fingers against his palm. “See? That’s much better.” He reversed direction and escorted Lizzie forward, leaving Lily little choice but to follow. It was only a few steps before she came abreast of them.
Lizzie rattled on about what flavor fizzy drink she wanted. She didn’t ask for an opinion and neither adult offered one. As near as Roen could make out, it would either be root beer and seltzer water or ginger beer mixed with the same. When they were seated at one of the small round tables close to the fountain bar, Lizzie ordered a cherry fizzy.
Roen did not anticipate sharing a chuckle with Lily Salt after having shamelessly used her daughter to engage her cooperation, yet a chuckle was precisely what they shared as their eyes met over Lizzie’s small head. He liked the sound of it bubbling on her lips, the way it came up from her throat and mingled with his deeper, rumbling laughter. There was harmony, real harmony, in their agreement.
Dolly Mangold, the druggist’s wife and blender of specialty teas, waited for the quiet laughter to subside. She plunged into the awkward silence that followed and took two orders for root beer fizzy drinks before she retreated behind the fountain bar.
Lily watched her go. A thin vertical crease appeared between her eyebrows.
“What is it?” asked Roen.
Lily darted a sideways look at Lizzie, who was blowing humid breaths on the glass tabletop and then dragging a finger through the condensation. She quickly shook her head.
Roen said, “Lizzie, why don’t you belly up to the bar and watch Mrs. Mangold make our drinks?” Lizzie’s head came up so quickly Roen feared whiplash. She didn’t leap away from the table, though. She looked to her mother for permission.
“You can go,” said Lily, “but don’t make a nuisance of yourself with a hundred questions.”
When the little girl climbed onto a barstool and was out of hearing range, Roen put the question to Lily again. “What is it?”
“I shouldn’t be here. You know I didn’t want to come with you.”
“But you did.”
“You were walking away with my daughter. That wasn’t right.”
“Or fair,” he said. “Not right. Not fair. But you’re here, and that was the goal.”
“Why?” She leaned in and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Dolly Mangold is not a gossip of the caliber that Amanda Springer is, but that doesn’t mean she won’t tell a friend that she saw me here.”
“Surely there’s nothing strange about that.”
“Withyou. She’ll tell someone I was here withyou.”
“The best way to deal with that is to make it a habit. Then it won’t be out of the ordinary. People don’t comment on the ordinary, have you noticed?”
