Patsy’s expression softened. “I spent the day with my beloved, so I could ask for no grander gift than that, although this ring might come close.” Her eyes conveyed her humor as she pretended to preen over the ring.
Lucy laughed and took a step closer. “Then you must have it. How does it feel?”
“Only slightly tight. Would you be able to adjust the fit?”
“Yes, ma’am. I would be able to do that.” At a nod from Patsy, Lucy lifted the woman’s hand in hers, studying the way the ring fit, then retrieved what she needed to accurately measure Patsy’s finger. Lucy removed the ring from Patsy’s hand, looked at the piece of jewelry, and noted to herself the slight adjustments she would need to make. “It won’t take long to enlarge the band. Would you like to wait while I do so?”
Patsy craned her neck to look outside, then shook her head. “It would be best if you would deliver it to me, although I will pay for it now. Might you be able to make the delivery this evening?”
Rarely did they make deliveries after the shop closed, but Lucy felt drawn to Patsy and found she couldn’t refuse.
“Of course. Where would you like it to be delivered?” Lucy asked, curious as she studied the small woman who appeared charming and warm yet held a lively spark in her eyes.
Patsy offered an address Lucy knew was on Society Hill. “If you would arrive at six, that would be most appreciated.”
“I will be there.” Lucy’s mind raced with what she would wear and the care she would need to take in styling her hair that could be every bit as wild as her brother’s.
She completed the purchase and noted the sale in her father’s ledger. She turned the book around and held out a quill for Patsy to sign the ledger, then reached for the box where her father kept money to make change.
“Keep the money, dear. The ring is worth more than you’ve priced it, and your kindness is priceless.” Patsy returned the quill she had used to the inkwell stand, then glanced out the window.
The man who had been loitering in the shade across the street was no longer there. The woman’s shoulders relaxed, as though she noted his absence. “I must leave now, Lucy, but thank you for inviting me in. I’ll see you this evening, promptly at six.”
“I will be there. Thank you for coming in today.” Lucy walked with her to the door and watched as the woman strolled away, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. It wasn’t until Patsy turned at a corner and disappeared from sight that Lucy returned to the workbench. She made a few notes in the ledger and set it aside, then went over to the ring display to retrieve her tools. It was then she realized Patsy had forgotten her gloves. Rather than dash through the streets in an attempt to catch her, Lucy decided she would take them to Patsy that evening.
One of the gloves felt weighted, though, so Lucy reached into the soft leather and pulled out a locket. Shocked to find it there, she wondered why Patsy had stuffed the locket into her glove. It made no sense to Lucy. Perhaps the locket was the reason the men had been chasing her. How frightened the woman must have been.
Lucy held the locket to her heart, thinking how precious the piece must be to Patsy to protect it as she had. She sent up a silent prayer that the woman made it safely home, then looked at the locket again. A strange feeling settled over her, as though she were about to embark on a journey, which was utterly preposterous. The only place she was going was to Patsy’s to deliver the ring.
The locket appeared to be finely made, and it wasn’t all that different from several lockets she and her father had created.
Intrigued, Lucy carried the gloves and her tools back to the workbench. She was about to open the locket when her father entered the store. She hastily tucked it into her pocket and turned to greet him with a smile.
“Papa. Welcome back.”
Ward Carlson was a lean man with long, tapered fingers that were useful in the detailed work he created. But he was also as strong as an ox, as Lucy’s mother was apt to say. He had passed his robust health along to his two surviving children, a fact that made Lucy grateful every day.
“Well, Daughter,” Ward said, removing the cocked hat from his head and glancing at Lucy. “Did you have any customers while I was gone?”
“One. A woman purchased the pearl and diamond ring. She asked me to deliver it to her this evening. It’s an address on Society Hill, so I felt it imperative to agree. It could mean future business for the shop.” For reasons she couldn’t begin to explain, she felt a need to keep the locket a secret. Something about itand the mysterious Patsy made Lucy cautious to share it with anyone, even her family. She intended to study the locket later, when she could do so without fear of anyone watching her.
“You did well in agreeing to her request, Lucy.” Her father smiled and smoothed a hand over his head. His hair, a faded shade of red, was still thick, although gray touched his temples. For a man in his forties, he remained quite handsome.
“By now, your brother likely thinks we’ve starved him half to death. Shall we partake of the fine meal I know your mother has prepared?” Ward closed the shop door. If anyone came during the meal, the strap of bells attached to it would alert them to a visitor.
“Yes, Papa. Theo was asking about your return just moments ago. I’ll help Mama while you wash,” Lucy said, looping her hand around her father’s arm as they walked through the storage room into the kitchen, where the back door was wide open, letting in fresh air.
Although they didn’t have much space behind their building, they did have a garden and a henhouse for their chickens. An oak tree that had been planted before Lucy was born offered welcome shade, and a bench had been placed beneath it as an inviting place to rest on a summer day.
As Lucy entered the kitchen, the room felt uncomfortably warm from the fire required to cook the large midday meal.
“Papa! You’re back,” Theo said, giving their father a hug, then following him outside to the well they shared with their neighbors.
Lucy started to help her mother dish the meal, but the bells jangled as someone entered the shop.
“I’ll return shortly, Mama,” Lucy said. She kissed her mother’s rosy cheek that was flushed from the heat in the kitchen.
“Don’t dawdle, Luce,” Cleta Carlson warned, although she offered a sweet smile as she scooped mashed turnips into a bowl.
