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Authors: Janice Hanna

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BOOK: Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas
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My
wicked behavior?” Peter let out a groan, pulled off his hat, and whacked the nearest tree branch with it. “Dad-blame it, woman! How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in courting you?”

“Oh, I don’t need courting,” she said with a wink. “Courting’s for kids. I’m a full-grown woman. You could just up and marry me and I’d be happy as a lark. ’Course, I could stand to hear a love poem every now and again. Like that one you wrote for Bucky to read to Katie Sue, I mean.”

Peter slapped himself in the head. “How in the world did you—”

“Oh, never mind that,” she said. “I have my ways of finding out what’s what around here. But I’m also interested in finding out who’s who. And my
who
of the day is
you
!” She roared with laughter. “What do you think of that, Peter Conrad? I just wrote a poem, did I not?”

“Your metric pattern was off a bit,” he said. “But I cannot deny its rhyming scheme.”

Georg could see that was not the only scheme at work. Sarah Jo clearly had designs on Peter Conrad. But what could be done about it?

“You’re my perfect match!” Sarah Jo said said with a coy smile. “And I promise you, honey, I’ll give you a hundred reasons to write love poems, if you’ll just give me a chance. And I’ll promise you the starring role in our first theatrical, too. Why, with a face like yours, you were born for the theater. No doubt about it!”

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. After a few moments, he shoved his hat back on his head, then took a seat—not next to Sarah Jo, but on the end of the quilt nearest Belinda’s father. Georg joined him and found himself seated next to Belinda.

“Is everything okay with Peter?” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm.” He wanted to say more, but the scent of lemon verbena caught him off guard. And something about the sound of Belinda’s voice, like the breeze moving across fields of wildflowers... It captivated him.

Have I lost control of my senses? What’s happening to me?

“Georg, you don’t look well.” She placed her hand on his arm and gave him a pensive look. “Do I need to fetch Doc Klein?”

“No.” He tugged at his collar, pushing away all strange thoughts of Belinda. “I’m sure I’m just overheated. After I have something to eat, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me make you a sandwich, then.” She began to sing one of the hymns they’d sung in church that morning. Her voice rang out across the grounds, almost sounding angelic. Her smile. That beautiful blond hair. The blue dress.

Georg found himself humming the song. For a moment anyway. He shook it off as Peter asked him a question. He wanted to answer. He really did. But something about all this had him in a state of complete and utter confusion.

And he was loving every minute of it.

Chapter Twelve

Three days after Katie Sue and Bucky’s wedding, a new shipment of newspapers arrived at Poetic Notions. Belinda sat at her desk, devouring them, on a quest to find brides for several new clients. She had almost given up on the idea of locating someone for Georg, when she came across the perfect advertisement. A match conceived in the heavenlies, no less.

“Greta, look!” Belinda ran with newspaper in hand to the register, looking for Greta. “You’re not going to believe it, but I think I’ve found a wife for Georg. Finally! He’s going to be thrilled.”

Her cousin, who was working diligently to clean the glass case at the front of the store, looked over at her with interest. “I’m not so sure about that last part, but I’m intrigued. Who is she? What makes her perfect for him?”

“Oh, she sounds delightful. Her name is Adeline. Very lyrical, don’t you think?”

“Very.”

“Listen to this.” Belinda cleared her throat and then began to read in her most romantic voice: “‘Woman of refinement from the East Coast. Late twenties. Pleasant appearance and disposition. Happy to settle down in small town with amiable man. Must be of good Christian character and ready for a family.’ ”

“Ready for a family?” Greta looked at her. “Is Georg wanting children?”

“I’m sure he wants them eventually,” Belinda said. She paused to think about that. It would be a crime, really, for Georg not to have children. Why, he would be wonderful with them. She could almost see him now, tossing a ball with his sons or rolling a hoop with a daughter. Yes, surely Georg would want children.

“Something about that sounds odd,” Greta said. “Do you suppose she already has a child?”

“Ooh, I never thought of that.” Belinda read the advertisement again. “You know, she might. It sounds as if she has a ready-made family. Still, I think I will write to her and let her know about Georg. But I promise to pray about it first, as always.”

“You’re saying you pray before each transaction?” Greta looked doubtful.

Belinda sighed. “I try to remember to do so, but sometimes I forget, especially when the match seems so obvious. I think, when it came to Sarah Jo, I might have forgotten.” She smiled. “Still, that one is Georg’s fault. He’s the one who actually located her, you know. Not me. He stumbled across her advertisement in the newspaper quite accidentally.”

“So I’ve heard.” Greta stopped working and gave Belinda a pensive look. “But Belinda, I don’t think it was an accident. I love Sarah Jo. She’s an asset to this town, whether she weds or not. She brings life and joy to us all. In a unique way, but life and joy nonetheless.”

“She brings more to some than others,” Belinda said, fighting back the laughter. “But one thing is for sure—she is never boring!”

Her words were interrupted by Peter Conrad, who came racing into the store, breathless. He took one look at her and paled. “Belinda, you’ve got to help me.”

“H–help you?” She stared at him, stunned, and then quickly folded the newspaper. “Help you with what?”

“Sarah Jo Cummings.”

“What about her?” Belinda placed the newspaper on the glass case and focused on Peter.

“She’s after me. Again.” His wide-eyed look let Belinda know this was no joking matter. Still, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Peter, do you mean to tell me that Sarah Jo Cummings—” She never had a chance to finish the sentence, for at that very moment, the fast-footed woman came sprinting into the store. She wore a red plaid dress and a matching bonnet.

Sarah Jo stopped for a moment, her breathing labored, and then grabbed Peter by the arm. “Why, Peter Conrad,” she crooned. “I felt sure that was you. Did you not hear me calling your name out there?”

“Oh? You were calling my name?” He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing. “I will have to get my hearing aid checked.”

Greta perked up at that one. “Hearing aid? Since when do you wear a hearing aid, Peter?”

Belinda jabbed her in the arm.

“Oh. Oh, I see.” Greta giggled. “So sorry.”

Sarah Jo continued on, oblivious to their playful attitudes. “Peter,” she said, her voice dripping like honey, “you simply must help me. I’ve been looking for a book to read and can’t find a thing at that old hotel. But it seems like every time I come to your bookshop, you’re just closing up for the day. My, but you do keep odd hours.”

“Ah. Well, see, I...”

“I’m looking for something romantic in nature,” she said. “Though action stories and adventures are good, too. Do you have dime novels?”

He groaned. “I believe we have a few in stock, though, of course, I prefer the classics.”

“Oh, the
classics
. Of course. I prefer them myself. My favorite is that
Romeo and Juliet
story by Frederick Shakespeare.”

“That’s
William
Shakespeare.”

“William, of course.” She continued to grip his arm and now gazed up into his eyes with admiration. “I just love a man who knows so much. I’m intrigued by your brilliance. Oh, if only I could study and learn as you do. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?”

Peter muttered something about there not being enough schooling available in the state of Texas to accommodate her, but she appeared not to listen. Instead, she chattered on and on about how his shop needed a woman’s touch. When she got to the part where she said she wanted to reorganize his shelves, his face turned such a deep shade of red that Belinda feared he might have a heart attack right there on the spot.

“I have arranged a meeting with several of the townsfolk for next Saturday,” Sarah Jo said. “We’re going to talk about the new opera house. I believe I’ve located the perfect spot on the south end of town, not far from Grange Hall. The mayor has agreed to lend his support. Isn’t that wonderful?” She laughed. “I knew I could win the man over.”

“Mayor Mueller has agreed to build an opera house without the vote of the people?” Peter looked stunned.

“That’s what the meeting is about,” Sarah Jo said. “To garner their vote. Oh, but I know it’s a shoo-in. Everyone wants an opera house. Right, Belinda?” She turned to face Belinda, her eyes wide with excitement.

“It would bring in revenue,” Belinda agreed. “So I can see the good in it.”

“And talk about fun,” Greta added. “It would certainly draw a new, sophisticated crowd to our town.”

“And I know just who will star in the first performance.” Sarah Jo gripped Peter’s arm, and he groaned.

Belinda felt for the poor man. “Sarah Jo,” she said, taking the woman by the arm. “I wonder if you would do me a favor. I’m searching for a wife for Mr. Ogilvie, the butcher, and I’ve had trouble finding an appropriate match. Perhaps you could help me choose someone for him.”

“Really?” Sarah Jo released her hold on Peter, who looked like he’d been given a reprieve, and clasped her hands together. “Oh, why didn’t we think of this before? I’ve made plenty of wonderful matches in my day. Why, I’m the perfect person to help you. Just watch and see.”

She babbled on about the various women she’d matched up back in her hometown, but Belinda didn’t hear half of it. She caught Peter’s eye and gestured for him to slip out the front door. He did, in record time.

Now for the hard part. She’d promised Sarah Jo she could help find a bride for Mr. Ogilvie. They headed off to the back room to thumb through the newspapers. Sarah Jo squealed with delight at every single advertisement.

“Look at this one!” She pointed to a paper from Boston. “This gal says she’s pretty as a picture!” Sarah Jo snorted. “I’ll tell you right now, Belinda, half of these women exaggerate.”

“Do they, now?”

“Indeed.” She chortled. “I did, myself. All that stuff about being petite and loving Sunday strolls. Not that I’m opposed to a nice stroll, as long as my arm is linked with the right fella’s.” She gave a flirtatious wink then went back to looking at the newspaper.

“Can I ask you a question, Sarah Jo?” Belinda took a seat on one of the barrels and gave her a pensive look.

“Well, sure, honey. Sarah Jo Cummings is an open book. No doubt about that.”

There was no disputing that fact. Still, Belinda had some unanswered questions. “Have you ever been married before?”

Sarah Jo’s expression shifted immediately. Gone were the laugh lines and the upturned lips. Gone was the twinkle in her eye. She paused for a moment and then folded the newspaper and took a seat on the barrel next to Belinda. She whispered, “Yes. I was married for thirty years.”

“I see.” Belinda wanted to ask more but now felt hesitant about the matter.

Sarah Jo seemed reticent to say more. At first. Finally, she burst like a dam, talking a mile a minute. “I met my husband, Joe—a railroad man, by the way—when I was working at a shop in town. A general store, much like Poetic Notions. He swept me off my feet. That fella was always such a looker, and kindhearted, too.”

Belinda didn’t interrupt but let her continue.

“We married the year I turned twenty-two. Had a baby girl that next year.” Now the smile returned.

“Oh, you have a daughter?”

Sarah Jo rose and began to pace the room. “
Had
a daughter. Kelly Jo was only three when she passed. Scarlet fever stole her from me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Belinda hardly knew what to say.

“Joe and I wanted other children, of course, but the good Lord never blessed us with any.” She shook her head. “Trust me, I had plenty of words with Him about that—the Lord, not Joe.”

“I understand, and I’m sure He did, too.”

“Well, we lived our lives the best we could. I took over the running of the shop, and he worked his way up with the railroad. We lived in a fine house and had every good thing at our disposal.” She gestured to her dress and bonnet. “I never went without, Belinda. The man made sure I had the things that pleased me.”

“He sounds wonderful,” Belinda agreed.

“He was.” Sarah Jo sighed as she took a seat once more. “I lost my Joe four years ago. Doc said it was from working around the coal for so long. Damaged his lungs. Terrible way to go.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she reached for a hankie to dab them away.

Belinda’s heart wrenched as she saw Sarah Jo’s pain. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Did you think I was just an old spinster?”

“No. Well, I don’t know what I thought. When I wrote to you, I only saw those few words in the paper, and they certainly didn’t tell the whole story.”

BOOK: Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas
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