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across her heart. “Leave it to Laura to come up with a brilliant solution. Isn’t it perfect?”
    I kept my eyes trained on Augusta to make certain she joined in as I bobbed my head. If she showed any sign of disagreement, I would slide down in my chair until I could land a well-placed kick on her shin. Fortunately, Augusta nodded her agreement.
    “A wonderful idea, Mother. Who knows—you and Mrs. Wentworth may set a new precedent for future housewarming parties in Fair Oaks.”
    Mrs. Galloway preened at the possibility. “You may be right, Augusta. What do you think, Howard?”
    “Whatever you decide is fine, my dear.”
    Mrs. Galloway’s lips tightened. “What is wrong with you this evening, Howard? Are you ill? You haven’t touched your supper.”
    “I’m fine.” As if to disprove his wife’s observation, Mr. Galloway took a bite of his green beans.
    “You are not fine. Something is wrong.” She pinned her husband with an impatient stare. “I want to know what is bothering you.”
    Mr. Galloway leaned heavily into his chair. “The day has been difficult. Each time I think I’m making progress with the carousel factory, I’m besieged with another problem.”
    “Such as?” Mrs. Galloway raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.
    “We’re behind schedule. I hired an additional carver two months ago thinking my problems would be solved, but since his arrival, our orders have continued to mount. Word has spread, and it seems everyone wants our horses.”
    Mrs. Galloway cut a piece of roasted chicken. “I would think you’d be pleased.”
    “I am, but it creates even more of a backlog. Today I discovered we’d received a shipment of pine. We can’t use soft wood. We’ll lose additional days while we wait on the shipment of basswood.” Mr. Galloway patted the pocket where he’d placed the letter earlier in the afternoon. “Then I received a resignation from my finest painter. He’s returning to Germany to be with his ailing parents.” He sighed. “I understand his need to go home, but . . .”
    Mrs. Galloway brightened, probably pleased that the bad news had nothing to do with her new house in Fair Oaks. “I’m certain you’ll be back on schedule before the end of the week.”
    Mr. Galloway sighed and speared another green bean while Mrs. Galloway prattled on and on about plans for the housewarming party and how happy she’d be once they moved to Fair Oaks. It was as though her husband hadn’t aired his difficulties. When she finally took a bite of dessert, I seized my opportunity. “I believe I can help you with one of your problems, Mr. Galloway.”
    From the weary look on his face, I could see he’d prefer peace and quiet, but I couldn’t oblige. I might not have another chance to propose my idea—at least not in these surroundings. In order to meet with success, I would need Mrs. Galloway. The fact that I wanted Augusta’s mother as an ally nearly sent me into a fit of giggles, but I pinched my arm until pain replaced any urge to laugh.
    When her husband didn’t respond, Mrs. Galloway scooted forward on her chair. “How could you help solve a business problem?”
    I was being put in my place, and for a moment I wanted to retaliate. But if I was to win this battle, I would need Mrs. Galloway. “I would like you to employ me to paint your carousel horses.”
    Mrs. Galloway held two fingers against her mouth as if contemplating her husband’s response. Her eyes glistened with expectation. In that moment I knew she’d become an unwitting ally.
    “That’s the most ridiculous suggestion I’ve ever heard!” Cheeks flushed, Augusta slapped her linen napkin onto the table.
    I’d expected such a reaction from Mr. Galloway, but not from my friend. Earlier in the afternoon we had spoken of my need to find a job and move elsewhere. She’d even acknowledged her mother wasn’t keen on my presence in their home. Though I hadn’t mentioned working at the carousel factory, Augusta had agreed