January 11
"Well, I wish he'd delivered better news than that." Florence pushed the door shut in frustration. Rosemary nodded glumly. Her heart had sunk moments ago when Doc Carson examined her ankle and declared she would need to stay off her foot for a good week, followed by three weeks of limited use.
"A whole four weeks? Let's see, that would put you clear in the middle of the second trimester." Florence went to put a kettle on for the two of them. "You poor dear. What an unfortunate thing." Florence clicked her tongue as she filled the kettle with water and set it on the back burner.
Who knew that such a little fall could cause such downright disappointment and aggravation? Heat tingled the flesh on her neck. She, Rosemary Coulter, off her ankle for a whole week? That was not only unfortunate, but impossible! What in the world would she do to pass the time? She had so much to do, but so much of that depended on her being able to stand, let alone walk. She swallowed a groan. Then just as quickly, her throat pinched shut as the pesky thought ran through her head for the numerous time the last hour or so: How on earth was she to meet the stage and send Harriet out of town before anyone knew of her arrival, if she was not able to walk? Her heart raced at the thought.
"Here you go." Florence offered her a cup of peppermint tea and a small smile. "I think I'll just make myself useful until Lee comes home. Is that alright?" She sat down across the table with her own cup of tea.
She gave Florence a small nod. At a time like this, she sure was thankful for a distraction. But, today she would have to watch herself. No, she wouldn't be letting her guard down— not one iota. After all, she was visiting with Hope Valley's well known busy body, and she did have a secret to keep. One she sure wouldn't want getting out. It was going to be a long afternoon. She felt a sigh escape her lips.
Florence lifted her teacup, complete with outstretched pinkie, and took a dainty sip. Hmm… how was one to keep a busy body from nosing around in their business? Oh sure, they could talk of the weather or other such trivial things, but she really needed something distracting. Oh, wait—she had just the thing: They would talk about Florence and her life of course! Yes, that would be her tactic. She would fire the questions her way, leaving no room for any mention of her own life.
"Did you order the linens for the Valentine's Day Dance, yet? I know it takes a good three weeks to get them from Edmonton, so I hope Mr. Yost had a chance to put in our order?" She lifted her own cup of tea.
Immediately, Florence fidgeted with her brooch and a blush crept to her cheeks. Interesting. Would that have to be at the mention of the Valentine's Day Dance? Or what else? Oh, she had mentioned Mr. Yost… that was interesting. She looked at Florence through her lowered lashes before taking another sip of tea.
"Um… yes. Ned, so graciously ordered the linens for us last week."
Ah ha! She called him Ned. So, the blush had to do with Florence's attraction to a certain mercantile owner, did it not? But did Mr. Yost, ah, that is—Ned, share a mutual attraction? There was only one way to find out.
"I am glad to hear it. We have so many things still to coordinate: the decorations, the cake, the dancing. I was thinking we could hire a band to come and play? I mean we always could use the victrola, but with as big as a crowd we were hoping to draw, I was thinking that perhaps if we could piece together the band— who was apart of that? I know there was Hickam, Bill as director, myself, and oh yes— Ned."
"Although I like the sound of a live band, shouldn't there be another option? I mean, even those on the band should have a chance to dance, wouldn't you think?" Florence had chosen her words wisely, but still she could see right through her.
She looked at Florence under her lashes and barely held in a laugh, but instead tossed out her final question. "Do you think Mr. Yost—Ned—would mind?"
"Well…" Florence's cheeks turned a most becoming shade of red. "I was hoping to at least accompany him on one dance."
"Oh Florence! He's your date? How wonderful. When did this attraction develop? I mean one day you are just as oblivious to the man as he is to you and then the next- poof! You are going to the Valentine's Day Dance together." She clapped her hands. "You must tell me every detail about how he asked you!"
Florence's face now turned a most unbecoming shade of red.
"Ur…well…um…." She stuttered. "I haven't exactly been invited yet."
"What? Oh, you must let me help you. You know I am an expert at such things. We will piece together a wonderful way of letting him know your interest. And a thing such as a dance, well, it is only proper that he should be the one doing the asking. Although, I have heard of some of the modern ladies of society asking gentlemen for a dance, so it could be done. I once heard of a lady—"
"Rosemary!"
Her head snapped to the vision in purple in front of her with a quite reddened face. Why, Florence looked most upset.
"I will let you know if I require your services, but sometimes there are things just left to… well, the heart." Florence stood up and awkwardly walked her teacup back to the kitchen.
Okay, well, that was that. She was just trying to help. The poor dear could use all the help she could get.
"Is there something I can assist you with while I am here?" Florence had put on her professional face. Gone was the moment for anymore matchmaking tips.
"Oh well, actually, I do have a few things you could help with if you don't mind. But…" she paused and gathered the gumption to go on, "I didn't mean to pry into your personal affairs, Flo. You have no idea how tickled pink I am that you have an interest in dear old Ned."
Florence's cheeks were apple red. "I would appreciate you keeping it on the down low. Hush, hush you know."
She smiled at her dear friend, then put a finger to her lips. "Our little secret." At this, both the ladies shared a giggle. Gone was the awkwardness that had permeated the room.
"Oh, I nearly forgot—" Florence went to the table and reached for her satchel. "It has to be in here somewhere. It is the reason I came here in the first place. Oh— there it is!" She pulled a folded handkerchief out of the bag.
"A handkerchief?"
"No, of course not. It's—" Florence placed the handkerchief on the table and unfolded it to reveal— was that— her mother of pearl clasp?
She gasped. "Oh gracious, I hadn't realized I'd lost it." Her hand shot up to her hairdo, although it was a different day and a different hairstyle.
Florence handed the clip over to her awaiting hands.
"Well, funny story— yesterday, I was speaking to Katie Yost who had just finished talking to Mrs. Jameston about the last trip they had into Calgary and they saw…" Florence's voice faded into the background.
Her focus waned from the one holding the claps to the clasp itself. How had she lost it? What if she had lost it for good? The story of the clasp would always be in her family, and it was priceless. Although it did cost a great deal, its expense was in its story. She shivered.
"Rosemary, are you okay? It's as if you didn't hear a word I said." Florence came close and placed a hand on her shoulder.
She numbly nodded. "I'm just so grateful you found it."
"It looks very special. What is the story around it?"
She gulped. She was not ready to share, but to not answer would be rude. What to do? What to say?
"Um…It was from a friend. Many years ago." She'd leave it at that. Her cheeks stung red. Although she was thankful Florence found the clasp, the last thing she needed was someone in her business. She zipped her lips tight, not offering one ounce of gossip.
She could feel Florence's eyes studying her. "You know what? You look fatigued. You have had a rather eventful morning. Shall I help you up to bed?" Florence motioned to the stairs complete with a handrail.
"No. I'd like to go to the settee though."
"Sure thing." Florence helped her scoot across the room without putting any pressure on her tender ankle. After plenty of pomp and circumstance regarding the pillows and the angle of her foot adjusted on a pillow, she was finally settled.
"You just rest there and don't worry about a thing. I see your washing is still needing to be hung. Perhaps I will start with that." Florence went to the basket by the back door.
The washing? At least her or Lee's unmentionables were not in the pile this time. It was mostly Lee's work shirts that need to be hung before the wrinkles were too deep to be ironed out. Well, if Florence wanted to help out, she'd let her. But in the mean time she wasn't going to be wasting time.
"Florence, do you mind giving me my shopping catalogue? I'd like to at least make a shopping list while I am sitting here."
She nodded.
"It's upstairs, by my night stand."
Florence went to the table. "I'll return this, too." She waved the clasp in the air.
She nodded her thanks and mentally began to write her shopping list.
The next thing she knew, she was awaking to a heavenly smell. Her stomach gurgled.
"Florence?" No answer. She looked around the room and pushed herself to standing position, making sure to keep her knee bent to protect her ankle. The back door pushed open.
"Rosemary, goodness gracious. You shouldn't be up! Why didn't you call for me?"
"Oh, you are here."
"I was just checking the clothes on the line. Are you hungry? Well, of course you are. Here it is a quarter after one and you haven't had lunch." Florence hurried over to the pot on the back burner and began to generously ladle soup into a bowl.
A quarter after one? How had she fallen asleep for so long?
Florence moved the end table directly in front of her and placed a bowl of soup, a large spoon, and a napkin on it.
"I already had a spot to eat. I hope you don't mind. I have been busy tidying up around here while you rested."
She felt her cheeks warm and she looked around the kitchen. The pots, pans, and dishes gleamed. Her friend was gracious not to mention what a mess it had been.
"I hope you don't feel as if you have to take me on as your charity case, Flo."
She waved her off. "Of course not. You are a friend."
Rosemary spooned the first bite to her mouth and let the tasty concoction soothe her soul. She didn't know how she was going to make it a whole week without being on her feet, but one thing was for sure, she wouldn't lack for support. Hope Valley was about the best spot one could land who needed support. It was one of the things small towns did best.