Page 12 of Mail-Order Millie (A Mail-Order Mystery #1)

Twelve

B ram was a heel for kissing her again. But he couldn’t help himself. Millie was so appreciative of what he was doing for her and their home. Maybe he was getting too caught up in his role as her husband.

“Is that the general store up ahead?” she asked as they walked down the street.

“Yes. The Ruggles own the store and the livery stable. They have a decent selection of goods.”

She smiled at him, the beginnings of trust in her eyes.

This was bad, oh so bad. He’d already gone too far. Now what was he going to do other than avoid her as much as possible until the assignment was complete?

They entered the general store and saw the two couples that passed by his office earlier. Millie took one look at them then looked away. “We should give the storekeeper our list.”

Bram put his hand to the small of her back and steered her to the counter at the back of the building. The younger Mr. Ruggles was there, speaking with the two couples. They stopped talking as he and Millie approached.

Bram smiled at them. “Mr. Ruggles. Can we trouble you to take care of our list?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Ruggles said. “You rented the space a couple of doors down from Mr. Springer’s tailor shop, didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” Bram said. “I’m opening a bookkeeping service.”

“How nice,” the red-headed woman said.

“I work with Mr. Springer,” the shorter of the two men said and offered Bram his hand. “Ives Merriweather. This is my wife, Lystra.”

“Bill Krantz. And this is my wife, Millie.” He looked at the other couple and smiled.

The woman, who had to be Bella Weaver, considering her clothes, was stunning. Her husband, a big, burly fellow, stepped toward him and extended his hand. “Calvin Weaver. This here is Bella. Nice to meet ya.”

Bram took the hand offered, and Mr. Weaver gave it more than a healthy shake. Bram didn’t wonder if the brute could rip his arm right off.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Bram said politely. “So, you were the cause of the crowd milling about on the boardwalk earlier?”

Calvin stuck his hands in his pockets. “Shucks, we’re sorry about that. Happens whenever we go visitin’ other towns and cities.”

“That’s quite alright,” Bram said. “I’m not officially open for business yet.”

“But you will be,” Mr. Merriweather said. “And we’d hate to see the crowds outside the shop interrupt your work.”

“How long are you planning to be here?” Bram asked. It was a logical question, all things considered, and he might be able to use it to his advantage.

“Until the Ruggles’ ball,” Bella said. “I am making a gown designed by Mr. Merriweather here.”

Bram smiled at them. “You design for women as well?”

“I’ve just started,” Mr. Merriweather said. “This is my first gown.”

“And it will be stunning,” Bella added with a smile.

“They’re revealing it at my mother’s ball,” Mr. Ruggles said. “It’s the talk of the town.”

“We heard some women mention it at The Emporium earlier this afternoon,” Millie said in a soft voice.

Bram glanced at her. She was blushing. He looped her arm around one of his. “Sounds like it will be quite the affair if it’s stirring that much talk.”

“Oh, trust me,” Mr. Ruggles said. “It is.”

Bram smiled and looked at the floor. “I’m afraid Millie and I are both new in town and don’t know anyone yet. You’ll excuse us if we’re ignorant of the goings on around here.”

Mr. Ruggles smiled. “Think nothing of it. In fact, why don’t you come?”

Millie gasped. “T-to your ball?”

“Yes, since you’re new it will give the two of you a wonderful opportunity to meet some people, have a nice evening, and even things out when it comes to my mother’s guest list.”

Bram’s eyebrows shot up in question. “Guest list?”

Mr. Ruggles sighed. “Yes, my mother seems to think she’s still in Baltimore.” He gave them a playful eye roll. “It’s a long story. Suffice to say, I’m extending both of you an invitation. After all, you’re part of the neighborhood.”

Millie looked at Bram with a big smile. “What do you think?”

I think you’re the sweetest woman I know… “Um, of course we’ll go.”

“Wonderful,” Mr. Ruggles said. “Now, about your list.” He perused it and began to gather what he needed.

“Lystra and I should get going,” Mr. Merriweather said. “James, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll hitch up Bobbin.”

“If you give me a minute, I can do it for you,” Mr. Ruggles called over his shoulder.

“No need. It’s the least I can do.” Mr. Merriweather steered his wife toward the door.

“Tomorrow then,” Mr. Ruggles called after him.

Bram noted the Weavers hovering near the counter. It was obvious they were waiting to speak to Mr. Ruggles.

“Bram?” Millie said softly beside him.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I… I’m afraid we didn’t think this through.”

He bent toward her. “What do you mean?”

She glanced at the Weavers and back. “Do you own any evening wear?”

He stiffened and also looked at the Weavers. Of course he owned evening wear. Unfortunately, it was all in Washington. “Oh, dear…”

She got closer. “And I haven’t a ball gown.”

Bella’s eyes flicked her way. Bram caught her looking at Millie, then steered her toward the front entrance. “I’ll see if I can catch Mr. Merriweather. Wait here.” He handed her some money to pay for their supplies, then hurried out the door.

Mr. Merriweather was hitching up a buggy to a bay horse. “Excuse me, Mr. Merriweather?”

“Yes?” He stopped what he was doing and smiled at Bram. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I need evening wear for the ball. Can you fit me into your schedule?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully then patted the horse on the neck. “Can you come by first thing in the morning so I can get some measurements?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good, I can squeeze in one more suit.”

“Thank you.” Bram glanced at the store. “Millie will need a gown. Is there any place other than The Emporium that might have something nice she can wear?”

“There are a couple of dressmakers in town,” Mr. Merriweather said. “Mrs. Jones, and a Mrs. Fenton. I believe Mrs. Jones is still taking orders. The ball is a week from Saturday, so it will be cutting things close. I’d see if she’s still at her shop. It’s on Fourth Street.”

“Thank you, we’ll head there now.” He tipped his hat and returned to the general store. He was making progress. Mr. Kameyer would be at the ball, and who knew how many of his associates? It would be the perfect place to gather information. In the meantime, he’d best make sure he got Millie a gown to wear.