“Hello,” Regina called out as she entered the tea shop.
Ariadne looked up from the cake batter she was mixing and smiled at her sister. “Hello,” she replied. “How was your ride into town?”
“It was beautiful. I think Royce Clark chose the best spot in the whole world for the Circle C, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to live there.” Regina hung up her hat, then washed her hands. “How can I help?”
“I’m just getting this cake in the oven. Could you add up the receipts from yesterday and make a trip over to the bank?” Ariadne hated the banking. She’d be happiest if she never had to touch another deposit in all her life.
“Of course.” Regina lifted the cash box from behind the counter and bent to the task, each sister doing what they were best suited for.
A moment later, the door opened, and a woman Ariadne had never seen before came in. She looked around the shop with appreciation, her sage-colored dress setting off her eyes and swishing on the floor with each step. She carried a lovely lace parasol, the likes of which Ariadne hadn’t seen since she arrived in Colorado.
“Hello. May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I believe you can.” The woman had a strong, yet sweet voice, and Ariadne liked her instantly. There was something about her that inspired trust. “I’ll take a cup of whatever you have brewing right now—it smells delicious. And two of those teacakes, please.”
“Certainly. Please have a seat wherever you like.”
Ariadne prepared the order, then carried it over to the table by the window, where her new guest sat. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Have you just moved here?”
“I’m just traveling through, you might say,” the woman replied with a smile. “I’m Hyacinth Chapel.”
“Oh, that’s a lovely name. I’m Ariadne Stoker, and that’s my sister, Regina. She’s recently married.”
Miss Chapel nodded to both of them. “I’m very pleased to know you, and to hear your lovely accent, Miss Stoker.” She paused, looking down at the table and then back up. “I wonder if I might ask your opinion on something.”
“Of course,” Ariadne replied. She sensed that this wasn’t going to be a short conversation, so she pulled out the other chair at the table and took a seat. It felt good to relax after a morning of baking.
“I’m curious about what sort of man Wendell Thurgood might be.”
Oh. Well, that wasn’t an interesting topic at all. Ariadne had been hoping for a juicy bit of gossip or something thrilling. “He’s a very good landlord. He sent a repairman right over when we had a floorboard come loose.”
Miss Chapel looked disappointed. “Can you tell me anything about his character, his likes or his dislikes?”
“Gracious. What would you need to know all that for?”
Miss Chapel gave a slight shrug. “I thought he seemed interesting.”
Ariadne instantly felt bad. Miss Chapel obviously had feelings for Mr. Thurgood, and here she was, stomping all over them. “What I mean to say is that I’ve never considered any of that. He’s our landlord, and nothing more. I’ve never met up with him in a social setting or chatted with him.”
“I met him just briefly on the street,” Miss Chapel said. “I thought he had wonderful manners.”
“Oh, yes, he’s quite mannerly,” Ariadne replied. She thought for a minute, trying to come up with anything else she could say that would put a positive slant on the man. She simply didn’t know enough about him.
“He was so kind to rent this place to us when we first got here,” Regina offered from her spot behind the counter. “It was a risk, but he was willing to see it through.”
“Yes, exactly,” Ariadne said, suddenly enthused. “He was willing to take a risk on our behalf. I believe that shows kindness.”
“I would agree,” Miss Chapel said with a smile. “Thank you. That helps me understand the situation a bit better.”
Ariadne nodded. “I’m so glad we were able to help.”
As she went back to work, Ariadne couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps Mr. Thurgood would be the next man in town to get married—the beautiful Miss Chapel on his arm. Maybe that was the problem—Ariadne just wasn’t beautiful enough. She sighed. Sadly, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about that.
Jake, her new brother-in-law, was the next person to enter the shop, and she turned to him with a mind full of questions. “Jake, am I beautiful enough to get married?”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”
She exhaled. “You heard me. Am I beautiful enough to get married?”
He pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I think those are two separate questions. Yes, you’re beautiful—absolutely. You look like your sister, after all.” He glanced over at his new wife and grinned. “Now, as far as the getting married goes, I didn’t know you were thinking about it.”
“Doesn’t nearly every girl think about it at one time or another?” Ariadne leaned her hip against the counter, even though her mother would have been appalled at her poor posture. “I’m not pining or anything, but it does seem that a great number of persons have been getting married lately, and I don’t seem to be one of them.”
“That has nothing to do with being beautiful,” Regina said, walking over and putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You just haven’t met the right man yet.”
“And the odds of that happening are pretty good in Creede,” Jake said. “We’re still more men than women here, even with the new folks who’ve moved in.”
“The ratio of men to women might be in my favor, but that doesn’t mean that the right one will magically appear in that vast horde,” Ariadne retorted. “I don’t need a thousand men when just one will do the trick.”
“True, but it does make things more likely,” Regina said, giving her another squeeze before stepping back.
“If you’re looking to marry a rancher, both Finny and Ginger have mentioned how jealous they are of my good fortune,” Jake said. “I’d be happy to arrange some introductions.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Ariadne replied, knowing he was teasing her. “I’ve heard stories from Regina about those two—they hardly sound civilized, let alone ready for marriage.”
“Oh, they’re civilized. They take off their boots before they go to bed, and they even wash their hands once in a while.” Jake grinned. “Chin up, Ariadne. It’s just a matter of time, and you’ll be beating men off with your mixing spoon.”
“All I need is one,” she reminded him. “Just one.” She didn’t want to tell him that she already had a long line of admirers. That seemed like bragging, but bragging was not what she intended. She’d be perfectly happy if every one of those other men went away. They needed wives who were more suited to this rough Colorado life, and she didn’t think she’d ever be.
Jake and Regina left a moment later to take the deposit over to the bank, and Ariadne turned her attention to washing up the dishes. The steam from the hot water made her hair damp, and she pushed it back impatiently with her wrist as she dried the last saucer and replaced it on the shelf. When the door to the shop opened, she glanced up, and embarrassment instantly flooded her. It was one thing to be seen with messy hair on a regular day by a regular person, but this wasn’t a regular person.
Not at all.
He stood about six feet tall, with raven-black hair and blue eyes. He wore a black duster coat over a shirt so white, it had to be new, and a sapphire sparkled from the pin in his cravat. He smiled at her, showing a dimple in either cheek, and she thought she just might melt right into the floor. “May I help you?” she finally managed to squeak out.
“I certainly hope so. I’ve been looking everywhere for a good cup of tea.”
She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped when she heard his voice. “You’re from London!”
He nodded. “I am. And you’re not too far from there yourself, from the sound of it.”
“My sister and I moved here this spring. What brought you over, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Business opportunities, a new land to explore. I imagine all the same things that puts wanderlust into any young man’s heart.” He leaned on the counter. “I can’t tell you how pleased I was to hear that there was an authentic British tea shop here. You’re like an answer to prayer.”
Her face became warm. “If I didn’t share your passion for tea, I’d think you were being melodramatic.”
“There is no melodrama when it comes to an Englishman and his tea.” He gave her another smile, and she tried to return it without giggling. That was difficult, but she couldn’t have him thinking she was just a silly girl. Even if it felt very true at that moment.
“What can I offer you? It will only take a minute to make whatever you like—we have quite a selection.”
“I’ll take Earl Grey, if it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all. It’s my favorite too.”
“Perhaps if you’re not busy, you could take a break and join me.”
Once again, heat rose to her face. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that you should invite me—”
He held up a hand. “Not at all. I was hoping to find the opportunity, and you merely presented it. Thank you for making it easier for me.”
She looked down at the counter, sure that her face was going to erupt in flames. “Why don’t you choose a table, and I’ll join you in a moment?”
“Perfect.” He smiled and walked away from the counter, giving her the chance to collect herself. Gracious. She’d never imagined something like this happening—not in a million years. She was tempted to put up the “closed” sign so they wouldn’t be interrupted, but that was hardly good business, and someone would be sure to ask about it, and that would be embarrassing.
She prepared the tea and put a selection of tea cakes on a tray, then carried everything over to the table he’d chosen. He was tall, just like Mr. Thurgood, but somehow, he didn’t look all elbows and knees sitting there, like Mr. Thurgood had. He rose slightly as she approached.
“I hope you like cake,” she said, hoping the nervous tremor in her voice wasn’t too obvious.
“I do. Very much.” He paused, then chuckled. “I wonder if you had the opportunity to see the play The Importance of Being Earnest before you left London.”
“I heard of it, but no. I never made it to the theater.”
“That’s unfortunate. There’s an entire section devoted to the character’s love of teatime foods. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed more.” He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip, a look of bliss crossing his face. “You’ve changed my entire life, Miss . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t ask your name. I’m Thomas Wells.”
“Ariadne Stoker,” she replied.
“Ariadne Stoker.” When he repeated it, it was as though she was hearing it for the first time. “Miss Stoker, this single cup has set me to rights again. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She took a sip of her own, desperate for something to do with her hands. She felt so awkward and clumsy all of a sudden. “Are you staying in Creede for long, Mr. Wells?”
“I believe so. I’ve set my sights on a few pieces of land, and I’d like to see about purchasing them. I’m told they belong to Wendell Thurgood. Do you know him?”
Well, that was certainly unusual—two customers to her shop asking about Mr. Thurgood in such a short amount of time. “Yes, he owns this building.”
“Then it’s lucky I came in here. Perhaps you could point me toward his home or office once we’ve finished our tea.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Thankfully, the topic of conversation didn’t dwell on Mr. Thurgood for long. That would have put a damper on an otherwise delightful day. Mr. Wells was charming as well as handsome, and his little jokes kept Ariadne laughing. She forgot that she had other work to do, and it wasn’t until a customer came in that she realized what time it was.
“I’m so sorry to keep you.” Mr. Wells stood when she did. “Thank you for a lovely tea.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Wells. Mr. Thurgood’s office is just down the way there.” She motioned toward the street. “Go about a block and you’ll see his sign.”
“Thank you.” He placed a few coins on the counter, tipped his hat to the new arrival, and left.
Ariadne pulled in a deep breath and tried to center herself.
Kara Casey grinned. “I’m sorry for interrupting . . . whatever that was.”
“I’m not sure what it was.” Her heart was still pounding from his smile. “I just need to ask so I know I’m not imagining things. Did I just have tea with an exceptionally handsome man right here in this shop?”
Kara laughed. “That’s what I saw, yes. Who is he?”
“His name is Thomas Wells, he’s from London, and he wants to buy some land here in Creede. He’s going to talk to Mr. Thurgood about it now.” Ariadne pressed a hand to her heart. “Honestly, I’m all aflutter.”
“If I weren’t a recently married woman, I would be too,” Kara said. “He looks like quite a catch.”
“He does, doesn’t he? But I’m not going to get my hopes up. We just had tea together—that’s all.” She took another deep breath and forced Mr. Wells from her mind. “Speaking of tea, what can I do for you?”
“I’d like a cup of whatever is handy,” Kara replied. “I just got a letter from Nessa, and I thought I’d sit down a moment and enjoy the read.”
Kara’s sister, Nessa, had returned to their home in New York recently, and Ariadne knew Kara missed her horribly. She tried to imagine what it would be like if Regina decided to go back to England. There actually wasn’t a question in her mind—she’d pack up and go with her—but Kara’s situation was far different. She had found a new life for herself in Colorado, and she didn’t want to return to New York. Plus, their father had left some unfinished business behind, and while Ariadne didn’t know all the details, she had gathered that Nessa might be in some danger. She hoped the letter only brought good news.
She placed a cup of Earl Grey on the table in front of Kara and tidied up the counter, even though it wasn’t messy. Two more customers came in and she served them both, watching with satisfaction as they sipped their tea and nodded their approval. Ariadne wasn’t very skilled in many of the ways Regina was, but she did know how to make a cup of tea.
And maybe that would be enough to bring Mr. Wells back around.