Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy this chapter! This is my second When Calls the Heart fanfiction story. You might want to read Faith, Hope, and Love, my first fan fiction story, before reading this.

Chapter Fifteen

"I never wonder to see men wicked,
but I often wonder to see them not ashamed."
~Jonathan Swift

Edmond Allen checked out the canned goods at the Coal Valley Mercantile. He picked out a couple of cans of beans. When he moved over to get some tins of biscuits, he spotted a young woman standing at the counter as Ned Yost entered her order in his ledger. Allen walked around the row of shelves, trying to get a better look at her. He noted her curly red hair and freckled cheeks. He estimated that she was likely about sixteen years old. Though he usually preferred women older than him, he decided she just might be the best this small town had to offer. So, he moved slowly up to the counter and stood next to her. He noted that she had a rather long shopping list that Yost was filling.

Allen whistled and exclaimed, "My goodness!", startling both the young woman and Yost. "Looks like you have your work cut out for you if you're going to be cooking all that," he told her.

The girl looked at him, her eyes wide and a pinky blush rising on her cheeks. "Oh... I... just...," she fumbled for words as she looked down at her hands. She was obviously very shy.

"I'm sorry! Where are my manners?" Allen extended his hand very chivalrously. "I'm Edmond Allen. And you are?"

"Oh...," the girl continued to fumble for words as the pink in her cheeks deepened. "I...I'm... I'm Mary Alice Calhoun." She tentatively took his hand but released it after just a few seconds.

"Well, Mary Alice. I'm very pleased to meet you!" he told her, smiling from ear-to-ear. "I can certainly see that you are planning some baking. I bet you make some delicious cakes and cookies."

Mary Alice looked down, continuing to blush.

Yost looked up from his ledger and watched the exchange between Allen and Mary Alice for a moment. He frowned at Allen, unsure of this newcomer. "Alright, Miss Calhoun," he announced as he put the last package in her basket. "Your order is ready."

Mary Alice picked up her basket and headed for the door. Allen set his cans and other grocery items on the counter and walked quickly toward Mary Alice. He stepped in front of her, blocking her exit. She looked at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly agape.

"You can't leave," he told her. "Not without agreeing to have lunch with me tomorrow." He gave her a terribly charming smile.

Mary Alice stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

Allen looked at her expectantly. "Please? I'd love to have lunch with the cutest girl in town!"

Mary Alice gasped. She'd never been told anything so flattering. She finally managed to whisper, "Thank you."

"So, it's a date?" Allen asked, smiling.

Mary Alice boldly looked up at him briefly before dropping her eyes again. She nodded slightly.

Allen reached for her hand. "Thank you! Shall we meet at Abigail's Cafe at noon tomorrow?"

Mary Alice just nodded her reply, still not meeting his gaze.

"Thank you," Allen exuded. He then smiled widely before bringing her hand to his lips. "I'll count the hours until then," he assured her.

Mary Alice's gaze flew up to Allen and her face went pale as he kissed her hand. She'd never been the recipient of such a gesture before. Her eyes met Allen's as he released her hand. He stepped aside and opened the door for her. "Until tomorrow, ma'am," he told her, smiling.

She nodded demurely and walked past him through the door. She stopped abruptly as she almost collided with Abigail, who had just climbed the stairs to the Mercantile's porch.

"Oh! Good morning, Mary Alice," Abigail said, surprised. "How are you today?"

Mary Alice was still blushing. "Good morning, Mrs. Stanton. I'm well," she replied in a low voice.

"How's your father? I haven't seen him in town lately," Abigail asked.

Mary Alice replied, again in a low voice, "He's had a bit of a cough, I'm afraid. He's been staying close to home when he's not working at the mine."

"I'm sure those brothers of yours keep you busy! How old are they now?" Abigail inquired.

"Joshua is ten and Mitchell is twelve," she answered, once again her voice just slightly above a whisper.

"I imagine it must be hard keeping up with all those men at your house," Abigail observed. She glanced down at Mary Alice's basket. "It looks like you have quite a bit of cooking to do. So, I won't keep you. You have a good day!" she called as she continued into the store while Mary Alice headed down the stairs, though not before she glanced back at Allen. Abigail noted the exchange between the two of them as she walked through the door being held open by Allen. He'd stood in the doorway, carefully watching the exchange between Abigail and Mary Alice. "Thank you," Abigail told him as she came through the door.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he replied as he closed the door and headed back to the counter. Yost quickly tallied his order. "That'll a buck thirty-five. Will you be staying in town for awhile? Do you want to start an account here?" he asked Allen.

Allen shook his head and reached into his pocket for his money. "No, I'll pay cash," he told Yost.

Yost nodded and smiled, always happy to get cash. Allen handed him the correct amount of money and scooped up his grocery items.

"Thanks," Yost told him.

Allen nodded but didn't reply as he headed to the door and exited the Mercantile.

Meanwhile, Abigail was walking around the shelves, collecting her needed supplies when Yost called to her, "Mrs. Stanton, you have a letter today." He reached to the shelf behind him, searched through a basket for a couple of seconds, and then pulled out an envelope. He turned around and held it towards Abigail.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Yost," she told him as she stepped to the counter. She glanced at the letter and immediately recognized the handwriting. A smile teased on her lips as she tucked the letter in her skirt pocket. She turned back to the shelves, quickly grabbed her needed food items, then returned to the counter. Yost added her items to his ledger. "Thank you, Mrs. Stanton," he said when he finished. "You have a nice day."

"Thank you," Abigail said with a smile. She headed out of the Mercantile and headed back to the café.

When she reached the street, Wiley approached her, much to her chagrin. She didn't even attempt to hide her disdain for him this time.

"Good morning, Abigail!" he called. "How are you this fine morning?"

Abigail narrowed her eyes but continued walking. She didn't reply.

Wiley scoffed as he rushed behind her. "You won't even talk with me? What have I done to bear the brunt of your ire?"

Abigail continued to ignore him as she hurried to the café.

"Abigail?" Wiley continued to pester her. "I never imagined that you wouldn't speak to me. I was just sure we'd be fast friends!"

Abigail's eyes gave away her anger and annoyance, but she still said nothing. She opened the door to the café, stepped inside, and was about to slam the door shut when Wiley yanked the door open. She spun around and looked at him in shock. He walked inside the café and shut the door behind him.

"Please leave. The café is closed," she told him, trying to keep her voice even, though he had shocked her.

Wiley stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. "Oh, Abigail, what is it? You don't trust yourself to be alone with me?" he asked, suppressing a laugh.

Abigail's look changed to one of disgust and horror. "Leave now! And do not EVER call me by my first name again!" she said sternly, her eyes flashing in anger.

Wiley laughed. "That's okay," he told her. "I know it's only a matter of time before you give in." He smiled wickedly before he turned and left the café.

Abigail stood tall until Wiley was out of sight, then she collapsed into a nearby chair. Fear and anger mingling on her face as she caught her breath. Then, she remembered the letter in her pocket and pulled it out. She read the outside again before opening the letter. As she read the letter, her expression softened and she relaxed back into the chair.

Postscript: Yes, these two men are quite dastardly. Thus, the Jonathan Swift quote at the beginning of this chapter. Fear not, good things come to those who wait... and vice versa!