and cook your supper once in a while,” she said brightly, knowing that Jake was ready to burst with irritation at her high-handedness. “Shall we say once a week?” She smiled encouragingly at Jason.
“That would be…” Jason fumbled for a word to express his delight, and only grinned widely, including his father in the elation he made no attempt to hide.
“Will I be able to take Jason to the general store?” she asked Jake. “I am free tomorrow if that would be a good time for him.”
Jake simmered, she could easily tell from the look he gave her. She had him neatly boxed in, and reveled in the fact. How she could find joy in making him fume was a question she wouldn’t even attempt to answer. She had to admit, there was a certain sense of satisfaction that had accompanied this meal, eaten at his feet, so to speak, and obviously enjoyed by both father and son.
She decided to change the direction of their conversation, and pointed up at the two windows where late afternoon sunlight shone. “I see you decided to uncover your windows,” she said. “It’s an enormous improvement, Mr. McPherson.” Tilting her head to one side, she made a sober observation.
“Perhaps I could bring over a bottle of vinegar and clean them for you tomorrow after Jason and I complete our shopping.”
“I’m sure there’s vinegar in the pantry,” Jake said forcefully. “If you’re of a mind to be our household help for the day, you just go right ahead.”
“I’ll help,” Jason said quickly. “I can do all kinds of stuff to help.”
She looked at the boy, her heart aching at his eagerness. “Perhaps we can repair the front step,” she suggested. “You’ve a fine hand with a hammer and nails, Jason. We’ll look for a board to use and make that second on our list.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said quickly. Then he looked at his father. “Ain’t that a good idea, Pa?”
“I’m sure your teacher has any number of talents that might come in handy around here,” Jake told him, his gaze turning to Alicia as she got to her feet.
Never the most graceful of women, she came close to falling across his chair as she took note of his sarcastic observation. Her eyes burned as she turned aside and reached for her basket. “If you’ll take the leftovers into the kitchen and put them away, I’ll take the dirty dishes and go home, Jason. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome for today.”
With a flourish of white tablecloth and the clatter of forks and plates, she packed up and headed for the parlor door.
Jake watched her leave, his eyes pinned to the straight line of her spine, noting the brown braids that circled her head, crossing over almost double. Her hair must be very long, he thought. Probably past her waist. Dark and thick, it was probably her best feature. Unless he counted the clear gaze she afforded him from blue eyes that did not waver or retreat from his own. Strangely enough, she seemed to fit the body she’d been given. In fact, she could almost be considered attractive, in a regal sort of way.
All that aside, she was definitely a woman to be reckoned with.
CHAPTER FOUR
JASON LOOKED ABOUT as uncomfortable as a boy could get, Alicia thought. She sat in a straight chair next to the door of the barbershop and tried unsuccessfully to pin a pleasant smile on her face. Jason slunk down in the black leather chair a bit farther, to no avail. Joe Hamlet, the barber, merely tucked his hands beneath the boy’s armpits and boosted him higher.
It was an ordeal for both of them, Alicia decided. Jason, because he was the center of attention; herself, because the men who lined the wall on a row of chairs were offering her long looks of appraisal. She was unaccustomed to being the focus of male attention and found it disturbing. Not that the gentlemen who awaited their turn in the barber’s chair were rude, only curious. Somehow that fact did not ease her discomfort.
The barber, mindful of the boy’s wiggling, placed a firm hand atop the lad’s head to hold him still. If it turned out to be a halfway decent haircut, Alicia would be most surprised.
“I think an ice cream is in order,” she said to a very relieved young man as they exited the shop ten minutes later.
“I’m not goin’ back there again,” Jason said vehemently, totally ignoring her offer.
“I suspect I can do as well as Mr. Hamlet, myself,” Alicia said. “Shall I give it a try when it’s grown out enough to tackle?” She steered him into the doorway of the drugstore and approached the counter. “What flavor do you want, Jason?”
“Flavor?” He looked around, as if only just now aware of his surroundings. “Ice cream flavor?”
“How about chocolate?” she asked, and lifted a hand to Frank Gavey, the owner of the store.
They ate their ice cream slowly, savoring each lick, every bite of the sugared cone and finally the pointed end where the last drops had melted. The general store was behind them, their bottoms firmly parked on a bench just outside the establishment, and Alicia prepared herself for the next leg of this outing.
“Are you ready to pick out some clothing?” she asked Jason. She rose, leading the way to the double doors that opened into the store. Jason followed slowly, dragging his feet, as if the experience at the barbershop had made him leery.
Alicia waited inside the door for him, then placed her hand on his shoulder as they approached the long counter. A short, squat gentleman approached. Mr. Harris was a businessman. Perhaps he spotted Alicia’s determined look, or else he saw a likely prospect for a complete wardrobe when he looked at Jason. Either way, he made it his business to be cordial.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” Mr. Harris greeted them jovially. “How about some new shirts for the lad? Looks to me he’s been growing like a bad weed.”
“We’d like some trousers and then Jason will choose some other things,” she said crisply. “Is there somewhere he can try them on?”
“Naw. Just take them home, and if they don’t fit he can bring ’em back.”
“All right.” One way or another, she’d see to it that the boy was outfitted with a new wardrobe today.
“May we see what you have in his size?” she asked.
The counter soon was literally covered with clothing. Trousers, shirts, drawers and stockings were stacked in separate piles, and Jason obligingly held them up before himself, testing them for size. As the pile grew, his eyes kept pace, growing wider with each item chosen.
Alicia nodded her approval. “Now, how about some new shoes?” she asked.
“Mine are good enough,” the boy said quickly.
“That’s a lot of stuff for Pa to pay for, Miss Merriweather,” he said beneath his breath, for Alicia’s ears alone.
“He’ll want you to be outfitted properly,” she said firmly. “We’ll look at shoes next,” she told the storekeeper.
The man beamed. It was likely the best sale he’d had all week, Alicia thought. Well he might smile. Jacob McPherson’s credit was as good as gold. The shoes
