Courting Trouble by Deeanne Gist Page B

around.
    ‘‘What’s the matter?’’ she asked.
    He shoved the mouse catcher toward her. ‘‘Hold this.’’
    She took it.
    ‘‘Don’t move.’’
    He disappeared into the store and then returned with the catalog in hand. He slammed it onto a barrel. ‘‘Page two hundred thirty-one,’’ he said, then swept back into the store.
    Frowning, she put down the mouse catcher and turned to page 231 in the catalog. Strewn across the top of the page in large, bold letters were the words: THE PRINCESS BUST DEVELOPER AND BUST CREAM.
    She touched her hand to her lips, quickly skimming the advertisement. A drawing of the mouse catcher accompanied a lengthy explanation of the product. A new scientific help to nature . . . will produce desired result . . . comes in two sizes . . .
    She moved her attention to the second half of the page. BUST CREAM . . . delightful cream preparation . . . forms just the right formula for wasted tissues . . . greatest toilet requisite ever offered . . .
    She closed her eyes. Mortified. It could not be. Oh, how would she ever face him again? Any of them. But, no, the others didn’t know what it was, either. Why, they had even wanted to order some.
    What a scandal that would have been if those old-timers had bought bust developers and started chasing mice all over town with them. Choking, she opened her eyes and picked up the developer, examining it. She placed it over herself, then jerked it away, embarrassed. Horrified. Fascinated.
    Did it actually work? Who had ordered it? And why had the customer never picked it up? She quickly did a mental count of the women in town, but she couldn’t imagine anyone ordering such a ridiculous thing. She slipped it back up on the top shelf.
    Nothing in all her born days had prepared her for how to handle a situation such as this. But Hamilton was home, and he had a surprise for her. And nothing was going to keep her from that surprise— not even his understandable anger about her innocent mistake.
    She stepped out from behind the curtain. Hamilton was waiting on a petite woman Essie had never seen before. He glanced up and turned a startling shade of red. She felt her own skin flush.
    He excused himself and headed toward her. A surge of excitement shot through her. She’d seen married couples share moments such as this. Communicating with each other across a room and at a level that no one else could match.
    As embarrassed as she was, she could not help but enjoy the thrill of sharing this intimate moment with him. He stopped in front of her, shielding her from the view of others.
    ‘‘I don’t know what to say, Hamilton. I’m horrified.’’
    ‘‘You didn’t know.’’
    ‘‘I certainly did not. But whose is it?’’
    Red stained his cheeks again. ‘‘The order was placed without my knowledge. It arrived after Eleanor passed, and I had no way of discovering whose it was.’’
    ‘‘Did you see how much it cost?’’
    ‘‘I know. I can’t throw it out because someone in this town has paid for it. So I’ll just have to keep it up on that shelf until it is claimed. But in the meanwhile, I don’t think we should be using it to trap mice and have drawings.’’
    Essie could not stop a tiny chuckle from escaping. ‘‘Of course not.’’
    He frowned. ‘‘This is not the least bit amusing, Essie.’’
    ‘‘Miss Spreckelmeyer?’’
    Essie peeked around Hamilton to see Lawrence, mouse already in hand. She crooked a finger at him and took his free hand. ‘‘Would you excuse us a moment, please, Hamilton?’’
    ‘‘Yes, yes. Hurry it up before he drops it.’’
    She smiled and led Lawrence to Colonel’s cage.
    ‘‘First,’’ she said, ‘‘you must remove the mesh top from the crate.’’
    The other boys gathered around. Lawrence handed her the mouse, then placed the two rocks on the floor and lifted off the mesh top. Colonel tested the air with his forked tongue, but otherwise didn’t stir himself.
    Lawrence retrieved the