Groom by Design. Christine Johnson

beauty of the family, but Sam preferred Ruth’s paler blue eyes and fairer complexion. Her features were also finer, more delicate. Her skin looked soft as silk.

      Jen, on the other hand, was dark and tall. The family resemblance could be found in her facial features, though her eyes bordered on hazel, as if all the colors on the palette had been thrown together. Minnie was the shortest, her hair a muddy-blond, almost brown, but her eyes matched those of her oldest sister.

      “New in town?” The minister’s question pulled Sam from his assessment of the sisters.

      Beatrice took her son, allowing Sam the opportunity to shake Pastor Gabe’s hand.

      “Just arrived on Friday.” Sam was surprised by the minister’s strong grip.

      “Thought I saw you the other day,” the minister said. “You’re working on the new store, right? Peter Simmons mentioned you had him do some carpentry for you.”

      Ruth’s head turned at those words, her approval clear.

      Sam, on the other hand, suspected the minister really wanted to know what type of store Sam was opening. He tried to relax his shoulders. The questions would get more and more probing by the day, and people would expect answers. He shouldn’t have come to church today. He shouldn’t have agreed to spend any time at all with the townsfolk. In the past he’d maintained his distance until after the grand opening. But it was too late now. He’d introduced himself to Ruth and her family, and there was no going back.

      He concentrated on the minister and forced what he hoped was a casual smile. “Peter does fine work for someone his age. I was quite impressed.”

      The minister proved just as unshakable. “He certainly has God-given talent and the willingness to share. That’s what we’re all about here. Sharing.”

      The emphasis wasn’t lost on Sam. Pastor Gabe expected open communication and honesty. Ruth expected the same. Both hung on Sam’s response.

      He used his smile to deflect the question. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”

      “Neither would I.” The minister’s grin told Sam he understood the bluff, but wasn’t calling him on it this time. “Let me add my welcome to the others. Staying long?”

      “Can’t say yet.” That was true. After the grand opening, he would probably go to another location. “I hope it’ll be a while.” He was surprised to find that was also true. In just two days, Pearlman’s tidy homes and friendly folk had captivated him.

      “If you need anything while you’re here, just ask,” Pastor Gabe said.

      “Thank you, but I can’t see what I’d need.”

      “The offer’s open. I know pretty much everyone in town. We might be small, but we have big hearts.”

      That sounded like a great advertising slogan. Sam mentally tested it for his store but dismissed the idea. In a town the size of Pearlman, Hutton’s was anything but small. When finished, it would be the largest retail establishment in town. Only the airplane-engine factory covered more square footage.

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, glad to escape into the fresh air.

      Beatrice followed. “Thank you again for your help.”

      “My pleasure,” he said, though an hour tending the boy had exhausted him more than a full day of work.

      Ruth, still holding Beatrice’s little girl, joined them in the shade of a large maple. “We’re having a picnic this afternoon. In the park. You should join us, Beattie. The children would love it. Maybe Blake would come, too.” She glanced toward Sam. “Mr. Roth agreed to join us. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

      “The more the merrier,” Sam dutifully replied, though the presence of Beatrice’s family would put a crimp in talking to Ruth.

      “I—I don’t think so.” Beatrice’s gaze flicked to the street. “We’re busy.”

      That sounded like an excuse, but Ruth didn’t press the point. “Maybe next time.”

      “Maybe.” Beatrice hurried toward a sleek black Cadillac that had just pulled to a stop. She opened the rear door and lifted the children inside.

      What a cad of a driver! A hired man ought to get out of the vehicle and assist the lady.

      Sam started forward until he noticed that the dark-haired man behind the wheel sported a fashionable suit. The little girl called him “Daddy.” That cad was Beatrice’s husband. Sam recognized the distracted self-absorption of careless pleasure-seekers, whose quest for self-indulgence knew no limits because they’d been born privileged. Money bought them out of scrapes. Money insulated them from recrimination. Sam’s wife had been one of that set, and, to some extent, so had he. But she had paid the price for her sins, while he lived to regret his every day.

      The driver leaned across to open the passenger door. Beatrice grabbed her expensive beaded bag off the fender and climbed in. Her diamond ring flashed in the sun, and the truth finally sank in. Beatrice had married into money.

      The Foxes would not lose their shop. Beatrice could bail them out.

      Chapter Five

      Ruth selected the plainest dress in her closet. The yellowish-beige calico print drained the color from her complexion. Sam would never notice her in this dress. His gaze would settle instead on Jen.

      By the time Ruth descended the stairs, Jen had vanished, in spite of her promise to pack the picnic basket.

      “Where did your sister go?” Ruth asked Minnie, who was plunking out a melody on the old piano.

      “To the airfield.” Minnie pounded on the middle C key, which stuck in humid weather. “Why can’t we get this fixed?”

      “For the same reason we didn’t buy new dresses this year. Daddy’s treatment.”

      Minnie’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry for complaining. It’s just that I get so tired of being poor.”

      Ruth hugged her baby sister from behind. “Sometimes I get blue, too. Just remember how rich we are in each other.”

      “I know, but sometimes I wish I could have something new.”

      Ruth suspected this had to do with Minnie’s hope that Reggie would notice her. “I do, too. If I remember right, I have some scraps of brocade that would make a nice little handbag.”

      “No, thank you.” Minnie pulled up the stuck key and pushed it down again, where it remained. “This is impossible. I can’t play a thing.”

      “Would it help if I sang the note for you?”

      “No.” Minnie closed the music book. “You get ready for the picnic. Wear something pretty. It’s your big chance, after all.” She managed half a smile.

      The poor girl was definitely pining for Reggie. It would do no good to reveal that Ruth intended this afternoon to be Jen’s big chance, but it wouldn’t happen if her sister didn’t get home soon. “Did Jen say when she’d be back?”

      “By one-thirty.”

      That didn’t leave enough time to prepare the food for the picnic. Ruth blew out a sigh of frustration. That was Jen. Always racing on to the next exciting thing and forgetting her responsibilities at home.

      Ruth headed for the kitchen and spent the next hour fashioning a respectable picnic lunch from leftovers and Mother’s canned peaches and pickled beets. She hoped Sam wasn’t famished, or there wouldn’t be enough to go around.

      After packing everything into the basket, she got a niggling feeling that she was forgetting something. One by one she checked off the contents. Lemonade, sandwiches, silverware, napkins, cups...

      “Can I at least buy some new sheet music?” Minnie called from