Page 10 of A Star in the West

Frank’s forehead scrunched. “I readily admit that I’m an atrocious speller, but I’m pretty sure Waco starts with a W. The top flavor on the board is named for some doctor named Pepper.”

The clinking of the spoon inside the glass diminished as the clerk finished the first drink and began making the second.

“The shop owner, Mr. Morrison, is trying to train us to use the new name,” Stella explained, “but most of the locals still call it a Waco. You’ll see why when you taste it. The flavor is completely unique, and it’s only made here, hence the tendency for residents to claim it as their own. One of Morrison’s pharmacists, Charles Alderton, created the recipe a few years ago. It contains a mix of twenty-three different flavors, but no one knows precisely which ones.” She winked and leaned in close enough to smell a hint of Frank’s shaving soap. “I think Morrison keeps the recipe locked in a safe somewhere. Trade secrets, you know.”

“Ah, a mystery.” Frank waggled his brows. “I can’t wait to taste this secret concoction.”

Stella chuckled. “Oh, I doubt it will be a secret for long. From what I hear, Morrison plans to bottle and distribute it across the state. Who knows, in a few years, you might be able to order a Dr. Pepper in Cambridge, Massachusetts.”

“Something else to make me think of you.”

Stella smiled, but her heart drooped at the thought of him being back at Harvard . . . without her.

“Here you go, Miss B.” The clerk set two full glasses of dark soda on the counter in front of her and poked a paper straw into each one.

Grateful for the distraction, she nodded. “Thank you, Lionel.”

Frank slid a couple of coins across the counter, then collected the glasses. “Where to now?”

Recalling the reason she’d asked him to meet her here, Stella nodded toward the rear of the store. “There are some tables in the back.” Tables that would afford a semblance of privacy while still being properly in public.

She led the way to a small table for two positioned against the side wall. Frank set their drinks down, then helped her with her chair.

“Thank you.”

His smile shot straight to her heart, his eagerness to please palpable. And please her he did. So much.

Once he was seated, she took a sip of her soda and waited for him to do the same. “What do you think?”

His eyebrows arched in surprise a moment before a look of contemplation overtook his features. “You’re right. I’ve never tasted anything like this.” He sipped, then tipped his head. Then sipped and raised his gaze to the ceiling as if running a complex analysis. After a moment, he accepted defeat and grinned. “I have no idea what it tastes like, but I like it.”

“I’m glad.” After scanning the store to ensure no one she knew stood nearby, Stella took another sip for courage, then scooted her glass aside. “Frank. I’d like to talk to you. About . . . well, about what you said yesterday.”

He gulped suddenly, then sputtered as a cough caught him off guard.

“Are you all right?” She started to get up, thinking to pound him on the back to help with the choking. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you with no warning.”

He waved at her to keep her seat and fished in his coat pocket for a handkerchief. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t sound fine. He sounded like a strangled toad.

He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m fine. Truly.”

This time he sounded more like himself, and Stella released a sigh and leaned back in her chair. The few patrons at the rear of the store who had turned to stare resumed their shopping once the choking subsided.

Frank wiped his mouth and chin with the handkerchief, then gave a discreet swipe of the tabletop that Stella pretended not to notice. She busied herself with unbuttoning her outer coat and slipping her arms from the sleeves. Embarrassment was apparently an excellent heat conductor.

Having regained control of his lungs, Frank leaned forward slightly and kept his voice low. “Am I correct to assume that you are not referring to our discussion of the nativity production?”

Stella nodded. “I didn’t have the chance to respond to your . . . statement yesterday, but I wanted to confirm that my feelings on the matter align with yours.”

She doubted she would ever forget the smile that stretched across Frank’s face at that moment. Such absolute delight. Over her. She’d never thought to find someone who would care so much for her good opinion. For her affection.

“I am glad to hear it.” He glanced up at a man who’d approached a display of cigar boxes a few feet away before turning back to Stella. “Will your father be at home this evening? I would like to discuss the matter with him as well.”

Talk to her father? So he was considering a proposal. Stella felt as if her chest had been hooked up to the soda water tap. Effervescence expanded within her, nearly making her dizzy. Only the recollection of the obstacles before them kept her from floating to the drugstore ceiling.

“Before you do, I’d like to share a few concerns, if I may.”