February 14
4:20 p.m.
Rosemary reached up and tucked the extra length of twine under the Valentine's Day sign strung across the chalkboard of Elizabeth's schoolhouse and turned to take in all their hard work. Abigail and Harriet had just finished placing the last of the food on the long table at the back of the room. With the food, the decorations, and the new music playing lightly in the background, they couldn't have been more ready. Well, they were still waiting on the musicians to arrive and they should be here any—
"Hickam! What are you doing here?" She scowled as Hickam entered the schoolhouse, holding onto his trumpet case. "No, no, this will not do. Where is Jonas Strickland? He's supposed to be the one playing the trumpet today."
"He came down with a case of chickenpox and can't play. His wife asked me to take his place today. 'The band will be doomed without a trumpet player' she said." Hickam shrugged.
Rosemary's eyebrows knitted together. "You go back there and tell him he can't shirk out of his duty just because of a case of chickenpox. I will expect him here in precisely fifteen minutes." She put her hand on her hip.
Lee, who was on the ladder putting the last of the decorations up, quickly came down. "Rosie, the man has chickenpox for goodness sake. It wouldn't do for him to come here and contaminate us all. Especially you." He looked down lovingly at her belly.
"Yes, well." She sniffed. When Lee put it that way, perhaps having him here was not the best idea. "But Hickam is Faith's escort. We practiced dancing for simply hours last night, and all that would go to waste if—"
"Trumpet is not usually my forte," Lee took the case from Hickam, "but let me see what I can do."
Hickam sighed with relief.
"Well, what are you waiting for? You have a girl to pickup." She pointed to the door. "Don't dawdle, Hickam. The dance starts in half an hour."
He walked to the door and then nervously nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She followed him to the door. "And Hickam, do go to the mercantile and buy her a corsage to wear. Ned stocked them especially for this event."
Hickam's face turned beet red. "Ma'am?" If she wasn't mistaken the man looked outright horrified.
"Don't give me any excuses. A proper lady expects her man to bring her a corsage, especially for an event such as this." She smoothed the skirt of her newly altered maroon dress. "Run along now. We don't want you to be late."
"But Mrs. Coulter… wouldn't she already be wearing one?" Hickam tried to loosen his collar, his neck turning redder by the moment.
"A corsage? No of course not. A woman does not buy one for herself. She waits for a man to bring her one to wear for their date. Hickam, you are acting downright silly. Are you feeling well?" She was tempted to reach up and feel his forehead for fever.
"Wouldn't it be most… improper for a man to bring an unmarried lady… undergarments?" He whispered.
"Land sakes, whatever are you talking about?" She hissed.
"The… um, corsage you told me to buy."
For the life of her she could not figure out what the man was talking about. Lee elbowed her. "I think he might have mistaken your suggestion to buy a corsage for a corset instead."
Her eyes widened. Hickam thought she suggested he bring Faith a corset? She giggled until she outright laughed, and tears streamed from her eyes, all the while Hickam looked quite forlorn and as if he would fly the coop at any minute. The poor, clueless creature.
She took a deep breath and wiped a tear away. "A corsage is a flower, usually a rose, arranged nicely that a woman pins to her dress."
Hickam's features instantly relaxed. "Oh, why didn't you say so?"
"So be on your way now, and make sure it is a red rose." She called out for good measure.
Lee laughed from behind her. "Think the man stands a chance?"
"I'd say we were lucky you caught onto his blunder or else we would have had a most uncomfortable situation on our hands." They both shared a good laugh at that.
She motioned to the case in his hand. "You really don't mind playing the trumpet?"
"I cannot guarantee it will be good, but I'll try."
She smiled at him.
"After all, I figure you are going to be busy with your match making. I won't be able to fit in a dance edgewise with you."
"You are a wise man, Lee Coulter. I am having a doozy of a time matching one eligible bachelor." She tapped a finger against her chin.
"Oh?" Lee said, placing the trumpet case down on the front stage near the teacher's desk where the musicians would be performing.
"Yes, Doc Carson. For the life of me I cannot find a match for him." She turned to the flowers on the desk and started rearranging them. "It's as if the man doesn't want to be matched up. He either has ridiculously high standards or he is just downright stubborn. I mean who doesn't want to dance with a pretty girl on Valentine's Day?" She questioned as she pulled a red rose from the arrangement. "It's almost like his heart is still shattered. Broken beyond repair. What he needs is a sweet, understanding lady much like—"
"Much like who, Mrs. Coulter?" The Doctor's deep voice came from behind her where he must have just entered the door.
"Oh, Carson!" She called out in surprise and whirled around.
Lee traded handshakes with the doctor. After Carson handed over the cake he had carried over from the cafe for Abigail, he asked the question again. "So who was the lucky lady you were planning on throwing my way?"
"Well, to be honest, I was going to say Jenny Hall or Kayla Strickland, someone of that sort." She walked the cake to the long table near the door.
He shook his head. "You already tried to match me up with them once."
"I did?" She said, trying to remember. She placed the cake in the middle of the desserts and then walked back over to the men.
"Yes, I think you have tried to match me with every single available woman in this town, including Widow McGregor."
Rosemary pursed her lips. "I don't quite recall that…"
"Rosie, he's teasing." Lee elbowed her.
"Oh," she recovered lamely.
Carson wrinkled his brow. "But I am not teasing about all the others. And for today, Mrs. Coulter, my gift to you is that you are freed from your responsibility to set me up. Completely freed."
"But who comes to the dance just to watch? Where is the fun in that?" She splayed her hands out in front of her in question.
Carson shrugged. "I'm sure there will be a young patient or two of mine that would appreciate a dance."
She scoffed. "But how will you ever obtain a wife with an attitude like that?"
Doc Carson smiled his charming smile. "It's not simply a wife I am after, Mrs. Coulter, but a companion for all my days. I will know her when I see her."
With that, he tipped his hat and strolled back out of the cafe.
"I daresay! That man wouldn't know his true love if she slapped him in the face." She placed her hand on her hip as she stared after him.
"Now, Rosie, he just knows what he wants, or maybe more appropriately, what he doesn't want. Can't you just focus on all the other member matchups this town needs? Like what about Florence? Molly? Wouldn't they be better candidates of your match-making attentions?"
She nodded, but inside she knew that she would find Doc Carson a match, even if it was the last thing she did.