The Davenports(85)

“Yes!” The word burst from her lips. There was no need to think it over.

Mr. Barton leaped up and caught her around the waist. A sense of weightlessness overtook her that had nothing to do with the way he held her aloft and spun her about the room. Their laughter rang out.

This is true joy.

It was a feeling Ruby wanted to hold on to for as long as possible.





CHAPTER 38


    Amy-Rose



The trees in the small orchard were starting to bloom. Amy-Rose always loved this time of year. Freeport Manor and the sprawling grounds that separated it from Chicago’s white elite felt like a slice of paradise, a quiet haven from the rest of the city, even if the balance between work and her own time was not always clear. It was hard to think of what she would have been doing if John Davenport, who walked beside her now, had not asked her to stay by delivering her dream on a silver platter.

Tommy had left several days ago with much pomp and circumstance. His going-away party lasted well into the evening and Jessie had packed enough baked goods to hold him through the week-long journey. “You know there’s food in California?” he choked out as the family cook pressed him into her bosom like he was still a child.

Amy-Rose’s own goodbye was bittersweet. Long after the others had gone to bed, she and Tommy had stayed up telling stories of their childhood, Remember when as essential as Once upon a time. She accompanied him and his father, Harold, to the train station the next day, and she held her objections when he pressed the business card of his contact out west into her hand. Later, she and Harold rode back to Freeport in silence. She pretended not to notice the tears in Harold’s eyes as they neared the stables, knowing Tommy would not be there to receive the tired horses or help her down from the carriage.

“I’m glad you’re here,” John said now. He held her hand as they ambled through the trees, far from the house, where they could talk unseen. His thumb drew circles in the palm of her hand. Hers looked small and pale against the deep richness of his. Their interlocked fingers created a fine tapestry, she thought.

It felt strange but right, knowing Tommy had moved on. “Leaving was part of Tommy’s plan,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be part of mine.”

John exhaled. The tension in his posture relaxed. Had the prospect of her moving caused this? Amy-Rose chewed her bottom lip, not sure how she felt about having such a powerful effect on another person.

“I admire your determination,” John said. He looked at her and slowed their pace. “I have no doubt it will succeed.”

“Much like you,” she said.

“I do have all these ideas. And we have to act soon. Automobiles are the future. We can open another factory so we don’t impact operations for the carriages.”

“Helen told me. She’s thrilled. I think it’s wonderful.”

John’s smile was grim. “I want to take Davenport Carriages into the future. Update our whole business model.” He’d released her hand to pace. His steps were quick, and he kneaded the muscles in the back of his neck. The tension of her possible departure replaced by another.

She grabbed him by his arms and turned him to face her. He stilled under her touch. “What’s stopping you?” she asked. It was the same question Tommy had asked her when she broke the news that she would not be joining him. She couldn’t quite answer him, but she suspected it was the same thing preventing John from taking his own leap.

He inhaled a deep breath before he answered. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Amy-Rose grinned. “I’m happy for you.”

John pressed a gentle kiss to the back of one of her hands. He held it under his chin as he spoke. “My father is set in his ways. He waves my words away as if I’m still in secondary school playing pretend in one of his showrooms. It’s like no matter what I do, that’s the only way he’ll see me. But the proposal Helen and I are working on is sound. It will work . . . I just have to convince my father . . . That is the real challenge.”

Amy-Rose understood. His fears were her own. What did a maid know about opening a salon, making and selling hair serums, balancing books and paying wages? She’d been laughed out of more rooms than she cared to admit. Still, she knocked on that next door, and that next door. She would until she had the keys to her own. She too was ready. Nothing would stop her.

This was why she’d stayed. Despite their uneven footing, John understood her like no one else could. He was the other side to her coin—no, a mirror. Someone who would understand her drive, forgive her long hours, and know from the beginning that her dreams, her voice, were non-negotiable. And more. She hoped, against the lead sitting in her stomach, that she could trust him with her whole heart and he would protect it.

“My father—”

“Your father was once standing where you are right now. The crossroads of fear and hope. He didn’t know anything about running a business when he came to this city. But he learned. He’ll see the value of your plan.”

A hesitant smile tugged at John’s face. He stared at her. In his deep brown eyes, she saw his desire to believe her.

“Helen will certainly be excited when you succeed,” Amy-Rose continued. “Will she have a greater role in this plan of yours?”

John rubbed the back of his neck. “That might be a harder sell than the automobile.” A crease appeared between his brows. He had gone still. “I wouldn’t have gotten everything prepared without her help. She’s deserves a chance just as much as I do.”