Louise told herself to stop here. Just keep her mouth closed. "What exactly does a hostess do?"
Gilly shrugged. "Mr. Houser entertains a lot of important guests in town and from out of town.
Financiers, other bankers and politicians, people he's met during his business travels. Philadelphia chooses the menu for dinner parties, decides the seating arrangements, directs conversation and keeps it flowing. After dinner a hostess might entertain her guests at the piano or with song. Perhaps she would invite musicians to perform. Philadelphia also hosts exquisite teas and luncheons for the clubs and societies she belongs to."
"Do tell," Louise murmured, mimicking a say-nothing phrase she'd heard Livvy employ when they were buying fabric at the Ladies' Emporium. One thing she'd learned from listening to Gilly's explanation: she hoped Max never asked her to do any hostess chores because she didn't have a single hostess skill.
"As Mr. Houser's official hostess, I believe Philadelphia also takes his associates sightseeing or shopping, and she entertains them if Mr. Houser is otherwise occupied. For instance, she brought one of Mr. Houser's guests to the Fourth of July picnic and celebration."
So Philadelphia was charming and gregarious. In addition to being tiny, a fashion plate, and an accomplished hostess. How nice for her, Louise thought sourly.
"Actually, I don't know Philadelphia all that well. I'm twenty-six and she's only twenty. We don't really have the same friends. And Philadelphia is very social whereas I'm not."
This made Louise seven years older than Miss Wonderful. She was old, plain, tall and big, clumsy and graceless, without an accomplishment to her worthless name. When she looked down, she discovered she had whittled a potato into a sliver.
Livvy bustled into the room bringing the scent of lemon polish and lamp oil, a dust rag over her shoulder.
"Did Deke ride back to the herd, or is he still about? I want him to set up the long table outside. Far enough from the corrals to escape the dust and stink of cattle, and close enough to the kitchen that we can get the food on the table while it's still hot." She pressed Louise's shoulder on the way to the table to inspect the pies. "You're learning," she said with a smile. "Sprinkle enough sugar on top and no one will notice if the outer crust is a bit brown."
"I doubt I'll ever be much of a cook."
"Nonsense. You'll get the way of it. All women can cook. It comes natural, like getting up in the morning, like having babies, like living a life."
This life was so different from any Louise had lived that nothing about it felt natural. And deep down she didn't want it to. The day this life became second nature was the day she couldn't go back to what she had been. She didn't dare let herself change that much. If she did, she was just begging for heartbreak.
By the time Livvy returned from searching out Deke and getting the table set up, Louise and Gilly had the potatoes and corn almost cooked and ready.
"We'll keep the potatoes hot until it's time to mash them," Gilly said as Livvy popped her head in the kitchen door.
"Better get started. The herd is behind the barn now, and Max and the boys are cutting out the calves and beeves that need branding. Once they're in the pens, the men will come up to the house for dinner."
Max was here. Instantly Louise's face felt feverish and fluttery heat exploded in her stomach. She tucked her hands in the folds of her apron so Gilly wouldn't notice a sudden tremble. But that didn't help her. As she needed to keep busy, she volunteered to mash the potatoes and pounded them with the masher until her whole arm began to ache, going after the lumps like she was killing snakes.
"I'll slice up the bread, if you'll take the butter dishes out to the table," Gilly said twenty minutes later. "I think Sunshine set out the salt and pepper, but it wouldn't hurt to check. I don't know where she's got to."
Swirls of dust hung over the pens when Louise stepped outside and peered toward the barn. By the time she reached the table and looked up again, the men had emerged from the dust and were walking toward the house.
Her gaze flew straight to Max. Tanned face, blue eyes, dark curly hair. Broad shoulders and narrow hips. A man handsome enough to set a woman on fire. Hastily, she pushed at the wisps of hair floating around her flushed face, and swore softly when she noticed a greasy stain on her dark shirtwaist, probably butter. Damn. Well maybe he wouldn't notice.
Max lifted his head toward the house, and she caught a quick breath and held it as his gaze touched her.
But it was only a touch that continued past her. His step faltered. For a moment Louise believed he had tripped over something, then she saw his expression go slack and his chest hitch.
Feeling her throat close, knowing what she would see, she followed his stare and watched Wally and a woman who could only be Philadelphia come around the side of the house and into view. Philadelphia was as Gilly had described her. Small, perfectly groomed, and exquisitely dressed in a forest green traveling suit with matching hat and cape. She was beautiful.
Against her will, Louise's heart sank into a swamp of jealousy. Philadelphia was everything any woman would want to be, everything Louise could never be. Max's family accepted her. Max loved her. And she was carrying his baby.
Philadelphia 's step also faltered, and she halted abruptly as if the sight of Max had thrown up a wall of shock and pain. Her face paled, and her eyebrows slanted in a helpless expression of deep sorrow and longing that swiftly altered to anguish. Blindly, she reached for Wally, curling toward his body where she pressed her forehead against his shoulder and raised her gloves up beside her cheeks. Wally's arm came around her in a protective gesture.
Then Livvy appeared as if by magic, all bustle and good cheer, welcoming home the newlyweds while everyone took a deep breath and struggled to compose themselves.
Louise stood beside the table, watching the drama unfold as Max and Wally stared hard at each other before Max thrust out his hand and Wally gripped it. Philadelphia stepped back, visibly collected herself, then turned to clasp Livvy's hand. She didn't look at Max nor did he look at her, but the sadness had returned to her gaze.
When Gilly and Sunshine joined the group at the side of the house, Louise picked up a butter dish because she needed something to do with her hands, needed to pretend that she was doing something useful.
Livvy must have seen her bend over the table and remembered her, because Livvy leaned close to Philadelphia and gestured over her shoulder. Philadelphia shuddered and raised her gloves as if warding off a blow and she shook her head no. Now Louise understood and she shuddered, too. Oh God. Livvy was going to insist on an introduction.
Despite the uncharacteristic pangs of jealousy, Louise truly regretted hurting Philadelphia . Philadelphia was least deserving of the disasters that had befallen her, and she had and would suffer the most.
