Page 20 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Micah watched in anticipation as Val unwrapped his gift. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought the dress, but after seeing how few clothes the petite matchmaker had, and how careworn some of them were, he’d decided it was the right thing to do.

“Micah Sutton,” she breathed. “What have you done?”

“Oh, Miss O’Malley, it’s beautiful,” Mrs. Thompson said, cutting in. She smiled at them both, gave Micah an approving nod, and left the parlor.

Val looked like she wanted to call after her but thought better of it. Instead, she admired the dress. “What have you done?” she asked again.

“Um, I… bought you a dress for the Christmas dance.” He grinned. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” she echoed. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But I don’t understand. You’ve already given me so much. Why a dress like this? It’s so fancy.” She peeked inside the collar and gasped. “Bella Weaver made this gown.”

“Yes,” Micah said. “Phineas tries to keep some of her dresses in stock for Mrs. Schulte and the other ladies in town. She’s quite good at dressmaking, don’t you think?”

Val studied the gown. “I don’t know what to say, Micah.

I mean, what have I done for you? I’ve done nothing…

given you nothing. I’ve been a thorn in your side, with the way I talk to myself, and having you perform four weddings after the dance.

” She sighed. “If we make it to the dance.” She glanced toward the window.

“If this snow keeps coming down for days on end, will we still have it?”

“Of course we will. It won’t snow that long. Though it’s blustering out there pretty good, the dance isn’t until Saturday. We’ll be fine by then, you’ll see.”

“I hope everyone’s able to dig themselves out,” she said, with no small amount of worry.

He laughed. “They will; they always do, though sometimes it takes a while.”

“I hope Elinore’s all right, not to mention a few others.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “There you go again, worrying about everybody but yourself.” He looked down at the dress, fingering the bodice. “I hope it fits. Phineas and I had to guess.”

“Phineas the storekeeper?” she asked in shock. She blushed a deep red and began to fidget.

“Calm yourself, honey. Phineas is actually pretty good at it. We guessed about right.”

Her blush deepened. “Will you stop giving me presents, man?” She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “You’re too much for me, Micah Sutton. Far too much.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, drawing closer.

“Well, I…” She looked him up and down, as if realizing how close he’d gotten.

“You should probably still try it on, no matter how good Phineas is at guessing sizes,” he suggested.

“Very well,” she said at last. “But later.” She clutched the dress to her chest and backed up a step.

He smiled at her flustered action.

“I have another gift for you,” he admitted. “Something I forgot the other day when I gave you your coat, scarf and gloves. I had to hide it away in another drawer of my desk. I should have kept everything together.”

“Merciful heavens, what else did you get me?” she asked.

He smiled. “A pair of boots, which… I forgot to bring. I’m afraid I’m a little absent-minded at times. But I’m sure you’re used to that, dealing with the sisters.”

She rolled her eyes and made a squeaking sound. “Let’s not bring them up. I don’t want them in this conversation.”

“In the conversation?” he asked with a laugh.

“Oh yes, that’s right… you talk to yourself too. Only I talk to them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I do it all the time. Remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if the voices you hear are the Busy Bees or…”

He put a finger to her lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Val, if that’s what you’re worried about. Lots of people talk to themselves, or hear the voice of reason in their head, no matter what form it takes. Part of it is you miss them,” he added softly.

Her eyes widened. “Those three scatterbrained, chaotic, trouble-making…”

He laughed again, cutting her off. “They can’t be that bad.”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “But lately they’ve been very vocal.”

“Why? Is something troubling you?” he asked.

She gave him a casual shrug. “I have things on my mind, is all. Now there’s a big storm brewing out there, and… well, I worry.”

“Stop worrying,” he said gently, almost reverently.

He wanted to give her comfort and let her know she was safe, protected.

But he was afraid of scaring her. Over the last few days he’d sorted through his feelings and realized he liked Val O’Malley far more than he should.

He also realized there was nothing wrong with pursuing her.

However, he didn’t have a lot of time to do it.

But she didn’t seem to take notice. Now that he’d flustered her with the dress, not to mention the boots, she might not take kindly to him stealing a kiss. So he tried to make conversation instead and stepped back. “I’m sure if the dress is too big, Ella can take it in for you.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure she can. But I don’t know if she’ll have time.”

“Maybe you could run upstairs and try it on now?” he suggested, adding, “I’m sure Mrs. Thompson would love to see you in it.”

Val’s eyes darted to the door and back. “Perhaps, if she’s not busy.”

She looked him up and down, as if seeing him for the first time. “I don’t understand why, Micah. Why get me all these things? There are plenty of other people who have needs.”

“Yes, there are,” he agreed. “But what if this is the only chance I’ve got to do something nice for you? What if I never see you again?”

She scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you see me? I can try to bring brides in the summer.”

“It’s just that one never knows what’s going to happen. Life is never predictable.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, drawing close again. “You have to make the best of it.”

He was certainly trying to make the best of having her while he did. “Why don’t you try it on?” he suggested again. If he stayed in this parlor one more minute with her, he’d kiss her.

“Very well, seeing as how you’re being so insistent.” She headed for the door, head held high.

He watched her go and fought the urge to follow.

“I’ll just fetch Mrs. Thompson,” she said, then disappeared into the lobby.

Micah went to a chair by the fire and sat.

He wanted to see her in the dress, but knew he’d probably have to wait until the dance.

That was fine. He was patient. He blew out a nervous breath.

He had another gift for her and would give it to her then.

He just hoped she didn’t throw it back in his face.

Val stared at herself in the mirror as Mrs. Thompson adjusted the skirt of her dress.

“There now, isn’t that pretty?”

Val couldn’t stop staring. The mirror was small, so she couldn’t see her full reflection, but the way the dress made her look like a princess was undeniable. Even if she could only see herself from the waist up. “I… I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Thompson. I’ve never worn anything so fine before.”

Mrs. Thompson straightened and stood back. “You look lovely, Miss O’Malley. Preacher Sutton has good taste.” She grinned at Val.

Val spun toward her. “But why? Why would he do such a thing?”

Mrs. Thompson smiled, then laughed. “You of all people should know. You’re a matchmaker. Don’t tell me you don’t know when a man is interested in a woman?”

Val gulped. “Interested?”

“Come now, Miss O’Malley, you can’t be that daft. It’s obvious our dear preacher is sweet on you. He’s made sure you’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Val gave her a blank look as Mrs. Thompson’s words sank in. “Sweet?”

Mrs. Thompson planted her hands on her hips. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, then heaven help you, my dear.” She shook her head, then bent to examine the hem. “I don’t think it needs to be taken up.” She stood again. “Nor do I think you’ll have to take in the bodice. It fits fine.”

Val nodded absently, unsure what to say. Micah was sweet on her? Is that why he was buying her gifts? She hugged herself as Mrs. Thompson fussed around her, tugging at the fabric now and then.

What if… what if she… oh, did she dare?

“The news can’t have you that flummoxed,” Mrs. Thompson said. “After all, he can’t very well hide it at this point. Pretty soon the whole town will know.” She faced Val squarely. “But what about you? Aren’t you the least bit taken with him?”

Val swallowed hard, trying to rein in her swirling emotions. “I… I’m leaving in a couple of weeks.”

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Thompson gave her a sympathetic smile. “My dear girl, you had better make up your mind on whether to let our preacher pursue you. Don’t waste the man’s time or money. Tell him if you return his affections.”

Val sucked in a breath. She was right, of course. Telling him now would be best for both of them. She turned back to the mirror. She should take the dress off, march downstairs, and give it back to Micah. But she looked so good in it, and he… he had affection for her? Her?

“Why, Miss O’Malley, whatever is the matter?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “You’re trembling like a leaf.”

“I’m sorry,” Val whispered. “I can’t seem to help it.”

Mrs. Thompson shook her head, making a tsk, tsk sound. “You really didn’t know, did you?” To Val’s surprise, the woman pulled her into a hug. “You poor thing. You’re so busy making sure everyone else’s match is taken care of, you didn’t see your own developing right under your nose.”

Val squeezed her eyes shut. “No, I didn’t. I’m a silly fool.”

Mrs. Thompson released her and stepped back. “No, you’re a woman trying to see to her charges, and one who’s been denying herself the very thing she tries to bring to others.”

“And what’s that?” Val asked.

“Love.”

Val drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I need to change. The dress fits.”

“I know it’s none of my business, Miss O’Malley. But should you return to Chicago, at least keep the dress. Preacher Sutton would insist you do. And remember, don’t toy with that man’s heart. You’ll not find another like his. Our Preacher Sutton is one of a kind.”

Val nodded. “I understand.”

“Good.” Mrs. Thompson helped her out of the dress, then left the room as Val changed back into her other clothes.

“Heaven help me,” Val said aloud. “What am I to do now? Does Micah really have feelings for me? He means everything he says?” She thought of his remark about sharing meals with her for the rest of his life. “What a dolt I am!”

Indeed, how had she not seen what was right in front of her? But be that as it may, she still had a decision to make. Even if she did reciprocate his affections, she still had to return to Chicago, didn’t she?

“Oh, dearie me. What am I going to do? I can’t leave those blasted sisters to run the business by themselves. Why, they’ll, they’ll…” She glanced around the room. “Well, aren’t the three of you going to say anything?”

She went still, clearing her head. Nothing. In fact, her mind was a complete blank… and then another voice seeped through. This one didn’t belong to the sisters. It was voiced in her heart.

He is my gift to you.

Val clapped a hand to her mouth as a sob escaped. Why was it so hard to imagine herself with a good match of her own? Had she done such a good job convincing herself she’d always be alone that she couldn’t believe even the Lord’s soft whisper?

Tears streamed down her face for a minute or two as she wrestled with the knowledge.

She dried her eyes, finished dressing, and hung her new gown in the armoire. She stared long and hard at it before her gaze drifted upward. “I didn’t ask for him.”

No, you didn’t…

She clasped her hands. “I suppose I can’t give him back?”

Silence.

Val nodded to herself. “Oh, aye, tell the Almighty you want to give back the gift of a good man. You idiot!” She smiled. “Silly woman.”

Her tears started again, but this time they didn’t stem from fear; they came from the memory of a seventeen-year-old’s prayer. A prayer that the good Lord would be her matchmaker, and bring her not the man she wanted, but the man she needed.

Val wiped her eyes again, examined herself in the mirror, and for once didn’t berate her reflection for not looking picture perfect before leaving her room.