The nest egg she had inherited from Aunt Erma wouldn’t last forever, especially not if she stayed at The Klein for much longer. But for now, it was necessary. She had learned from Aunt Erma that part of the secret to success was appearing successful. It had worked, though the competition in Boston for business had been fierce. Aunt Erma had been stuck in her ways near the end and it had fallen to Meredith to try and grow their clientele. She had done so by introducing new patterns, ones she had designed herself. But by then her aunt’s health was failing. Meredith couldn’t keep up with the orders on her own, yet Aunt Erma refused to pay out funds to hire another seamstress. In the end, they had to shut their doors.
Now, Meredith was ready to open them again in Salvation Falls. But, in keeping with Aunt Erma’s advice, she first needed to show the townspeople she had changed her circumstances, she had made something of herself. And maybe...well, more than maybe, she wanted to show Hunter. She wanted him to see that she was every bit as good as a Donovan.
She paused in front of an empty window and peered inside. The store was empty, but from what she could see through the dusty pane it possessed a main area and a back room, as well as a set of stairs leading to a second story. It was perfect for what she had in mind. She backed up and looked at the sign swinging from above the door. Hattie’s Hats.
She lifted an eyebrow. Hardly the most original of names. She would try to do better.
“Meredith?”
She recognized the voice the instant she heard it and turned to find Rachel Beckett standing a few feet away. “Rachel...” The name trailed off and left an awkward silence between them. All the things she’d wanted to say rushed through her head but too quickly for them to take hold. “I—I was hoping to call on you.”
“I was hoping you would when I heard you’d returned, but I thought I might give you a day or two to get settled.” Rachel smiled, and the motion took Meredith by surprise. When she’d left, Rachel had been going through a hard time of her own with her husband, Robert, prone to gambling and debts mounting. It had been a long time since she’d seen Rachel happy and when she did, lingering behind it was the weight of all she carried on her narrow shoulders. But this smile, this was real and genuine and—
“Oh!” Meredith covered her mouth before she let something inappropriate fly out of it, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the rounded bump of Rachel’s belly. “Are you...?”
Rachel’s smile grew. “I am.”
Meredith wanted to hug her old friend but it had been so long and she wasn’t sure she had the right anymore. She’d been the one to let their friendship lapse. She’d thought of writing her after she reached Boston, but due to Rachel’s close friendship with Hunter, she’d feared the return letters would contain information her heart could not bear.
“I heard about Robert’s passing. It was dreadful what you had to go through.”
Rachel’s expression turned somber, though a light still played in her eyes. Even her hair, a mass of dark curls she had never managed to tame, had a particular bounce to it. “Thank you for saying so, but I guess we shouldn’t be all that surprised. I wish he could have taken a different path, but if he had, maybe I wouldn’t have found the one I’m on with Caleb. He’s a good man.” She touched her belly and sunlight glinted off the thin gold band on her left hand. “But enough about me. I was sorry to hear about your pa. We had a nice memorial service for him when Hunter brought him home.”
“Hunter?” Bertram hadn’t mentioned Hunter had been the one who had transported her father from the prison when he wrote to tell her about his passing.
Rachel nodded. “The prison contacted him when your pa took a turn for the worse. I think he’d asked them to. He’d been up to visit your pa a time or two when he heard his health was failing. He wanted to be sure he was receiving proper care. But I expect you know all that.”
But she hadn’t. In truth, she hadn’t even thought of it. The news that her father was gone forever had been so overwhelming, she hadn’t thought about the details. She’d assumed it had been Bertram. She’d been wrong. The truth found the crevices in her heart and seeped inside. Why had her father never mentioned it in his letters? And more importantly, why had he asked Hunter to do it when she would have been more than willing to leave Boston and come home to tend to him?
“Are you on your way somewhere?”
Rachel’s question pulled her out of her tangled thoughts. “Oh...yes. To the livery. I’m going to rent a wagon and check on the old homestead.” Her words drifted out on a whisper, the rest of her trying to absorb what Rachel had told her.