Chapter 14.
On a cool October afternoon, shortly after Audra's scheduled return, Emily was in her shop, stove as yet unlit and a wool sweater on to keep her warm. She was slipping stays into the corset she was making for the rather ample Mrs. Hawkins.
She gloried in her solitude in her snug little shop but had spent more time thinking about Nick than she would have liked.
She thought about moving to San Jose, to Monterey, to Oregon even, but these were mere musings and she didn't consider them very seriously. She liked Stockton: She had made friends, built a stable business, and had settled into a comfortable routine and all of it had been an effort for her. She did not want to start all over again somewhere else. As for Nick, she decided, either he would allow her space and time or he would move on and Emily believed he would choose the latter.
With her back to the shop's front door, bent over, and fighting a particularly resistant stay, Emily heard the front door open with its chime. She lingered a moment over the corset stay, not ready to surrender the fight, and wanting to allow her customer a moment to browse.
When there was no greeting from the customer, she surmised it was a new customer and she called out that she would be right with them. Then she called a truce with the stay, quickly tucked Mrs. Hawkins's corset into a cupboard, and turned around to see Nick standing there, hat in hand.
"Hi, Nick!" she said, casually. She was more surprised by her own calm than she was by his unexpected visit.
"I was, uh, hoping you would join me for dinner tonight at the Cattlemen's Hotel," he said.
This was a new request. They'd never dined out together before and she was momentarily flustered by the novelty of the proposal.
Nick immediately stated, "Just, uh, dinner. No serious conversation."
"O . . . kay," she said. She glanced at the clock in the room. "I'll need to dress for dinner."
Nick was going to protest, tell her she was dressed just fine, but understood that women had a complex set of rules about these things.
"I'll wait," he said, and he turned around to put the "CLOSED" sign in the window as Emily slipped upstairs.
The rocking chair had been moved deeper into shop, next to the sewing machine (an investment she and Sam made together). Nick crossed the room and sat in the rocker but got back up, feeling restless. He scanned the room and noted lots of white fabric, some on bolts, some folded, some brighter than others, some rough, some shiny, and it occurred to him that sewing ladies' underclothes was a lot more complicated than he had assumed.
He walked over to some shelves and studied all the different rolls of ribbon, noting that most of them were very pale in color. There were glass jars which contained the smallest buttons he thought he'd ever seen. Or maybe they were just the smallest buttons he'd ever noticed.
Upstairs, Emily removed her sweater, blouse, belt, and skirt. She slipped another petticoat over those she already wore, this one with a several flounces in the back. She considered, then rejected, adding a bustle and chose a dress of tone-on-tone cotton damask in deep mauve trimmed with matching ribbon. Simple. Elegant.
She brought out her gray wool coat. It might be cold outside tonight, she thought, and she laid it on the bed. Then she unpinned her braids, unbraided two sections, and pinned it all up again as before but now looser, softer.
Picking up the coat, she found her black winter gloves tucked into the pockets, and smiled, making the association between Nick's trademark and her own cold weather utility.
Nick had discovered a book filled with drawings of ladies' underclothes Emily used for inspiration and for her customers to communicate their requests. He heard her descending the stairs but didn't put the book away.
She entered the shop while putting her coat on.
"You're very pretty tonight," he said, turning to look at her.
"Thank you," she said smiling, "See anything you like?"
"Oh, OH! You make all those . . . things?" he asked.
"Most of them."
"And only in white," he smiled.
Emily laughed. "Mostly, yes." She looked him up and down. "Don't you have a jacket?"
"Don't need one," he replied, and held his arm out to her. "Shall we?"
She smiled, curtsied, and took his arm.
They walked to the restaurant, taking their time, as it was still early. Emily felt awe and a little social discomfort at the number of people who greeted Nick by name and realized they had never been out together in the early evening on a weekday.
At the restaurant, he helped her with her coat, and as they were being seated, he called out to the bartender, "Whisky! And the lady will have a brandy."
The table was in a corner, which Emily appreciated. On the way there, they had chatted about ranch business and news from her father's latest letter. Once seated, she asked about Audra and the first thing Nick told her was how anxious Audra was to see her though Emily couldn't imagine why.
Emily asked as many questions about Audra's travels as she thought he could bear. Clearly, Europe was not as fascinating to him as it was to his sister.
The conversation between them was easy, comfortable, and natural. Nick told her about Audra and Carl, about the family's feelings about the relationship, about his own. They talked about Heath and Sarah.
Emily asked, "If they get married, will they live at the house, do you think?"
"Course they will!" he declared, then he leaned forward and frowned, "You think they'll actually get married?"
Emily shrugged. "Who knows how the heart will speak?" The double meaning was not lost on Nick and he chose not to pursue it. It was, after all, a condition of dinner with her.
There was wine with dinner. Nick had steak, and Emily tried the Dungeness crab, commenting that she was pretty sure she had died and gone to heaven. Dessert was a new creation called an ice cream soda and they agreed it was good.
Early twilight had changed to deep night by the time they left the restaurant. The air was chilly and there was no moon. There were far fewer people out and about than before and the music from the saloons was audible, punctuated by an occasional shout made out of anger or alcohol and probably both.
Nick and Emily continued talking the kind of easy back and forth trusted friends share. They looked in shop windows and pointed out items of interest, curiosity, and they created private jokes.
Past a general store and around the corner from a livery stable was a saddlery. Nick saw them first and though he had not brought Emily there on purpose, the timing was precious.
"Em! Look!" he said, excited, "Riding boots!"
She gasped with exaggeration. "Oh, Nick, they're beautiful! Let's get them right now before I change my mind!" Then very quickly and with mock disappointment, "Oh, what a pity! The store is closed."
"We can come back!" he declared, smiling broadly.
But she had taken his hand and was pulling him away from the window, laughing, "No!"
The evening ended with a passionate kiss and no talk of marriage. Nick, as usual, stayed outside her door to make sure she was able to light a lantern inside.