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Hanna had planned to leave the girls with her mother and sisters while she did her shopping. Kristin followed the buggy to a neat white frame house on the outskirts of town.
Remembering the tar-paper shack where the Andersons had lived on their wheat farm, Kristin was gratified to see that they’d moved to a more comfortable place. It appeared that Lars was getting plenty of carpentry work. Britta’s teaching probably brought in a little money, too.
Hanna’s mother, Inga, was at home with her two younger daughters. Years of hardship and the loss of two precious sons had taken their toll. Her hair was white, her face wrinkled by age and grief. But there was vigor in her step and resilience in her smile as she greeted Kristin with open arms.
“How good to see you, dear. Hanna told me you were coming home. I hope you’re here to stay.”
Kristin returned her embrace, which ended when Hanna’s two sisters crowded in. Britta was tall like her father, with a freckled face and a ready smile. But it was Gerda, the youngest of the family, who surprised Kristin most. The eight-year-old child she remembered had grown up to be a stunning beauty, with long-lashed indigo eyes, a tiny-waisted figure, and a wealth of golden curls tied back with a blue ribbon.
Hanna’s little girls had come inside. Skipping with eagerness, they followed Britta into the kitchen where she’d promised earlier that they could help her make cookies.
“We can visit after I’ve done my shopping,” Hanna said to her mother. “Is there anything you need from the store?”
“Nothing that I can think of,” Inga said. “I’ve got fresh lemonade out back in the cool box. We can enjoy some when you get back.”
Gerda spoke up. “I need some buttons for the new dress I’m making, but I want to choose them myself. Do you mind if I come along, Hanna?”
“Of course not,” Hanna said. “Why don’t you come, too, Kristin? The store’s a good place to meet people. You can leave your horse here and ride with us in the buggy.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Kristin agreed. And it was. Getting to know the townspeople would be an important first step in starting her medical practice.
The store was only a few minutes away. Hanna secured the buggy to the hitching rail next to a new-looking auto, a fine layer of dust coating its shiny finish. Kristin gave the vehicle a glance, then followed Hanna and Gerda around the corner of the store to the front entrance.
Once inside, the three women separated. Hanna, who’d made a list, set out to find her items in the most efficient way. Gerda made for the rack of button cards, trim, and sewing notions, leaving Kristin to wander among the shelves. The store was busy with customers doing their Saturday shopping. Soon she was greeting old acquaintances and meeting new people, mostly women, who’d moved to Blue Moon after she’d left.
Passing the display counter in front, she noticed a small girl wearing a faded dress that appeared to be made over from some larger garment. Her feet were bare, and her black hair hung down her back in a thick braid. Her hungry eyes gazed up at the glass candy jars on the countertop—lemon drops, candy canes, licorice, and lollipops—as if they were the very treasures of heaven.
“So here you are, Miss Mary Frances Elizabeth O’Rourke.” The woman who took the child’s hand spoke with an Irish brogue. She was as delicately pretty as a sparrow, her dress clean but threadbare and out of style. In her shopping basket, she carried only a few essentials—salt, baking soda, and a pint jar of molasses.
Kristin spoke on impulse. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I noticed how your little girl was looking at those candies. Would you allow me to buy her one?”
The woman’s expression hardened. “Thank you for the kind offer, but we don’t take charity.”
“Oh, but it isn’t—”
“I said no thank you. If she wants a sweet, I’ll buy her one myself.”
With a defiant look, she pointed to the jar of peppermint sticks. As the clerk took one out of the jar and handed it to the little girl, the woman opened her tiny pocketbook and dumped a few coins into her hand. After counting them carefully, as if she might not have enough, she laid them on the counter. The clerk scooped them up without giving her change. It was probably all the money she had. Head high, she took her purchases and left, keeping a firm grip on her little girl’s hand.
A few minutes later, Kristin spotted Hanna carrying her loaded basket to the counter. Gerda was nowhere in sight. If she was still making up her mind about buttons, the girl might need to be hurried along.
Ending her conversation with a chatty, silver-haired matron, Kristin turned away and headed for the rear of the store where the fabrics and sewing notions were kept. There was no sign of Gerda.
Unease crawled along Kristin’s nerves as she searched up and down the aisles. Gerda wasn’t a child. Maybe she’d met a girlfriend or given her buttons to Hanna and gone outside to wait in the buggy. But something didn’t seem right.
Hanna had paid for her purchases and was just going out the door. Kristin was about to follow her when she saw Gerda. The girl was backed into a rear corner of the store, almost hidden by the bulk of a broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket.
Alarmed, Kristin strode toward them, ready to send the man packing and rescue the girl. That was when an unexpected sound reached her ears. Gerda was laughing—a tinkling, musical sort of laugh. A flirting kind of laugh.
Didn’t the naive little fool know that she could be in danger? Temper simmering, Kristin reached them and tapped the man on the shoulder. “That’s enough, sir,” she said. “You should know better than to take advantage of—”
The words died in her throat as he turned around. Chestnut hair, grown a little long. Laughing green eyes and a chiseled jaw with a dimpled chin.
It was Mason.
CHAPTER FIVE
“HELLO, SIS.”EXCEPT FOR A CHIPPED FRONT TOOTH, MASON’Scharming smile was just as Kristin remembered. “I’ll be damned, you’re all grown up.”
