The Spinster (Emerson Pass Historicals 2) - Page 81

“And I’ll say, ‘Yes, you were dashing in your evening suit and I liked the scent of your shaving soap.’ What will you say back?”

“That there’s never been a more beautiful woman in the history of the world than Josephine Barnes.”

“You’re a charming older man. I can’t wait to meet you in the future.” She giggled. “Will we really ever be old and gray? I can’t imagine being anything other than what we are right now.”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll live a long life together and have many stories to tell our children and grandchildren about our love story.”

“I hope so,” Jo said.

“A lifetime of wonderful memories, if I have my way,” I said.

The song drew to a close, but we remained wrapped together swaying gently until the notes of the next song began. We needed only the music made from the mingled beating of our hearts.

Josephine

Several days after the party, I stood on the ladder in the library, shelving returned books on the upper stacks. I hummed a tune, happy with the outcome of our party for the Cassidys. We’d raised enough money for them to live comfortably through the winter and to replace several of the cattle they lost with babies come spring.

The morning had been busy with patrons gathering books for the Christmas holiday, and I hadn’t had a chance to put away books. We would be closed tomorrow for Christmas and throughout the holiday weekend. People didn’t want to be left without a good read. Outside, the sky seemed to press close. A blizzard was coming. I hurried, not wanting to stay later than necessary.

Fiona had come into work with me today to help with the rush. Phillip was to arrive just after four to take us home. We’d be home and safe by the time the storm hit.

What a month it has been, I thought as I put away the last of the books. A whirlwind of emotions, beginning with the sting of betrayal, but quickly and completely replaced by falling in love with Phillip.

Fiona had begged me to bring her in with me, as she was bored at home without school to occupy her. I had her in the back office, working on the numbers. Papa had recently shown her how to keep books and budget. He’d suggested I let her practice her new skills with the library budgeting for the upcoming year. Since I detested this work, I was only too happy to have her help. I’d have Papa look it over to make sure her findings were accurate.

From the top rung of the ladder, I saw that the last of my patrons, Mrs. Rory and her daughter, June, were waiting for me at the checkout desk. “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Rory.”

“Thank you, Miss Barnes.”

I carefully climbed down the ladder and scurried over to assist them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Mrs. Rory said.

“How are you today, June?” I asked. “Are you bored at home without school like Addie?”

She nodded, peeking up at me with shy eyes.

The Rorys and their daughter, June, lived here in town, just on the other side of the church. They’d come from back east somewhere. Her husband worked at the train station. June and Addie were in the same grade at school.

We made small talk as I listed the books in my log. June continued to stare at me, with one small fist wrapped in the material of her mother’s wool coat.

“These are all good choices.” I pushed the stack of books across the desk. “The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew is a favorite at my house.”

“Addie’s my friend,” June said. “Did you know that?”

I smiled down at her. “I did, in fact. Would you like me to tell her hello for you?”

“Yes, please. And tell her I can’t wait for school to start back up again. We sit together at lunch.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” I said. “Now off you go before the storm comes.”

“How do you know a storm’s coming?” Mrs. Rory asked.

“The sky,” I said. “Just has that feeling to me.”

She thanked me, and they hurried out the door. For the next fifteen minutes, I tidied up loose ends. Outside, the sky had darkened and snow began to fall. I felt a sudden urgency to get home. Don’t fret, I told myself. We’d be fine as long as the wind didn’t start up as it sometimes did.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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