“Worse luck for him,” Elizabeth said. Bernice’s bachelor son, who’d been a vice president at the Barren Cattlemen’s Bank for years, had quit to seek a different pursuit, but he still lived with his mother, who monitored his every action too.
And there was that phrase again. Keeping company. Ah, but at least now they’d gotten to the true reason for this morning’s visit. “You may be my mother’s friend, but that does not give you permission to insult me or Dallas.” This time she rose from her chair and stayed standing, her pulse hammering hard enough to make her breathless. “I’m tempted to throw you out of this house and never open my door to you again.”
In a huff, Bernice pushed past her, then down the hall. “I definitely will tell your mother how I’ve been treated here. I only came to caution you not to make a spectacle of yourself—but I was wrong to give you the benefit of the doubt. I now agree with her that you must be exactly the reason Harry strayed.”
She charged out the door, leaving Elizabeth to wonder how much worse things would get once Dallas, then the whole town, learned she was pregnant.
“DO YOU WANT to take the rest of the day off, Becca?” Certainly, Elizabeth did. Bernice’s first-thing-in-the-morning vitriol had made Elizabeth’s stomach finally revolt and she’d gotten to work after ten, but she only got a shrug for an answer now from Becca.
“No, I’m just...tired.”
Elizabeth could identify with that. She wanted to lie down on an antique sofa and sleep until closing time. She envisioned Bernice at her mother’s house, venting her displeasure over Elizabeth’s behavior. “Are you sure?” she asked Becca. At least one of them should get an afternoon off, though that was becoming a habit for Becca.
The girl shrugged again then went into the storeroom, where Elizabeth could soon hear her sniffling, but, with Olivia in far-off Kedar, Elizabeth shouldn’t pursue the matter right now. She had to run the shop and deal with the rug orders for the women’s cooperative.
Becca wasn’t being helpful. Could Elizabeth manage on her own? Had she been out of her mind to keep on with Dallas’s rodeo? Could she really handle what amounted to two jobs?
Finally, Becca emerged from the other room, her eyes red and puffy, a soggy tissue in her hand. She shot a look at the only customer in the store, who was reexamining for the fourth time an overstuffed Chesterfield sofa. Elizabeth sighed. Becca was going to be no help at all until she talked about whatever was troubling her.
Elizabeth walked over to their customer. “I’m going to take a short break.” To deal with her coworker, though she wouldn’t say that. “This sofa is gorgeous, and I can arrange delivery for you. We offer white-glove service. If I’m not back when you’re ready to buy, rap on the office door.” She read the tag. “It’s a great price. I wouldn’t pass this piece up.”
The woman glanced at her. “Yes, but I’m still thinking. Hoping it will go on sale.”
Elizabeth left her to ponder her decision. She led Becca toward the back but, at Olivia’s desk, Becca remained silent. She picked at a hangnail, and Elizabeth’s heart went out to her. From her first day, she had sensed a connection with Becca, an instinct to nurture as she would Stella or the boys.
“You’re not worried about this job, are you?”
As the stand-in manager, Elizabeth didn’t have the authority to fire anyone.
“Actually, without Olivia here, my stomach doesn’t even hurt.” Becca studied the ceiling. “But what do I know? I’m really no better at this than I was answering phones at the clinic or waiting tables at the café.” She gestured at the outer room. “I tried to sell that lady the old sofa, which has a totally outrageous price, but you stepped in and made her think she was getting a bargain.”
A few footsteps told Elizabeth the woman was still out there. “I don’t mean to pry, Becca, and we haven’t known each other long, but you’re obviously troubled. I know things could become awkward if you feel you’ve said too much when we have to work together, but I am a good listener. I wouldn’t repeat anything you say. If there’s some way I can help—”
“I’ve never been friends with an older woman.”
Elizabeth tried not to take offense. “Not that old,” she murmured, “but all right. I do respect your privacy.” Clearly, Becca didn’t intend to unburden herself. “I’ll get back to our customer then, see if I can sweet-talk her into the Chesterfield—”
She didn’t finish before Becca held up a hand. “I shouldn’t have said that, Elizabeth. It’s not even the job.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I lost my mom last year, and I miss her so much.”
Elizabeth reached for a tissue on the desk. “Here, sweetie. Oh, Becca. That’s hard.”
“I can’t even bear to think she’s not here.”
Elizabeth choked up too. “I think I know how you must feel. Last winter I had a miscarriage at four months. I wanted the baby so much, and I still miss it. I always will.”
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. My dad misses Mom all the time too. He doesn’t have anything now except the farm and the roses, which were hers.” Becca managed a watery smile. “A while ago, I signed him up on a dating site, but he won’t respond to any of the women who liked his profile.”
“Which you must have written,” Elizabeth said, risking a weak smile of her own.
“I wanted to make him feel better, but I don’t ever seem to do the right thing!” Fresh tears welled again, then started to fall. “And I’m a total wreck today. Calvin and I kind of had a fight. I’m afraid we’re going to break up.” She began to sob.
Elizabeth hoped their customer couldn’t hear. She patted her shoulder. “Let’s try to find some perspective. Do you want to
