Christmas at Stoney Creek

by Martha Rogers

  “Faith Delmont is helping too. She sees a lot in town through that big plate glass window, and she hears a lot too when the ladies come into the bakery.” Even if Joe stayed for only a few more days or weeks, Tom wanted to know more about him, especially who he really was, where he had come from, and his purpose for staying in Stoney Creek. With three of them using their powers of observation and two reporters employing their skills for nosing out news, they might uncover Joe’s secret after all.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE DAY OF the fund-raiser for the churches arrived with disappointment staring Faith in the face. Over the last week Tom had stopped by the bakery almost daily to buy a pastry and chat, but he had not asked to escort her to the festival. But then he hadn’t asked Angela either—at least that’s what Angela had told her. The only bright spot was the hope that Tom would select her basket for the auction this afternoon.

  The smell of smoke and something burning wafted up the stairway and sent Faith running down to the kitchen to find the cause. When she met her mother in the bakery downstairs, she was fanning the air with a towel over a tray of cookies.

  “Mama! What happened?” Faith scurried to help fan the air to rid it of smoke.

  “That oven is what happened. It’s even more unpredictable today than usual. Thank the good Lord that this is the last batch, so we still have plenty to sell at our booth.” She slid the cookies off the tray and pushed them into the garbage bin. “And that reminds me. You better get on over there with the last of these boxes. Aunt Ruby just left with a wagon full. You can meet her over there.”

  Faith loaded her arms with the boxes she could carry and headed for the festival grounds at Reverend Booker’s church. When she reached her destination, Aunt Ruby had the tables covered and the signs with prices tacked up. Good thing Tom hadn’t asked to accompany her because now she most likely wouldn’t have time to spend with him anyway.

  “Where do you want these, Aunt Ruby?”

  “Set them over on that back table. I’m setting the pies here. We can sell them whole or by the slice.”

  Faith stacked the boxes before she opened one to put on display. After arranging the cookies on different plates and by flavor, she covered them with wax-coated paper to keep them fresh. One sample cookie sat atop the paper to identify the contents beneath.

  Aunt Ruby had used glass covers from the bakery over the cakes that were to be sold whole. Several others were ready to be sliced for individual sales. Vases of asters and chrysanthemums decorated the tables, as well as pumpkins, apples, and gourds supplied by a local farmer. He had a booth where he would sell the same items for others to enjoy.

  Various aromas mingled in the fall air and whetted Faith’s appetite. Sausages, smoked meats, and hot cooking oil dominated with hints of the great food to be served later. The sounds of hammering and sawing came from those finishing up their booths this morning.

  Mama joined them just before the booths were to open. “I finally got the burned smell from the kitchen and cleaned up the mess.” She stoked the wood in a small wood stove at the back of the tent. Milk warmed in a pan on top, ready for the hot cocoa mixture she’d brought with her.

  Aunt Ruby set tin cups on one counter of the booth. Joe had helped make this one for them and had made sure it fit all Mama’s specifications. Aunt Ruby opened the tin of cocoa. “There’s just enough hint of a chill in the air to make hot chocolate and apple cider a nice treat.”

  Faith set out the till box. “I might have to have a cup before too long.” The weather had cooperated this mid-fall morning, which meant a lot of people would be out and about taking advantage of mild temperatures before a cold spell blew in.

  One advantage of living deeper to the south in Texas was the late arrival of winter. In the past they’d even enjoyed mild weather up until Thanksgiving. Faith discarded her shawl and folded it. She placed it on a chair and smiled at Mayor Gladstone, who had just stepped up to their table.

  “Good morning, Mayor. Looks like a fine day for a festival.”

  “Indeed it does. Sheriff Bolton guarantees there won’t be any shenanigans to spoil things.”

  Even though the robbery at the livery occurred during the festival several years ago, he and the sheriff still worried something else like that may happen.

  As soon as the open sign went up, customers began stopping by. As usual, Mama’s cinnamon buns and Aunt Ruby’s scones were a hit. Faith counted up the money in the box. So far the first hour brought a good sum. Papa had decided to donate half of the earnings to the mission offering for the Dallas orphanage. If all the booths showed such success, then the ladies would have a tidy sum by evening.

  Thinking of the evening reminded her of the box social. She untied her apron and laid it over the back counter. “Mama, I’m going back home to fix up my box for the auction.”

  Mama nodded as she helped another customer. On her way to the house Faith met her father. “The booth is doing well, Papa. I’m sure the mission ladies will appreciate your donation.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure they will.” He muttered and hurried on past toward the town park and all the booths.

  Something about his demeanor niggled at Faith as she reached home. The faint odor of burned cookies reminded her of this morning’s mishap and was likely the cause of her father’s distraction. He was concerned about their old stove and how poorly it was performing. If only there were some way they could get a new stove before Clara’s wedding. If they did, all the baked goods would be the best they’d ever made.

  Once she reached home, Faith headed for the upstairs kitchen. Too bad it wasn’t large enough to do the kind of baking they’d be doing for the holidays ahead. She added more wood to the stove and got out the black iron skillet. Fried chicken always sold well in box lunches.

  An hour later she had a box filled with the chicken, homemade pickles, two slices of dried apple pie, Mama’s special potato salad, home-canned green beans, and homemade bread. She wrapped the box in brown paper from Hempstead’s store and decorated it with her favorite fall colors of orange, yellow, and gold.

  On her way to the church with her box, she spotted Tom down the street. She turned the corner and hurried down to the next block where she could get to the church without seeing him. Rules said they weren’t supposed to let any of the men see the boxes until bidding time, and she hadn’t counted on seeing Tom or she would have covered hers with a piece of cloth.

  After depositing the box at the church, Faith made her way back to where she had seen Tom earlier. When he came into view, she stopped short and caught her breath. Angela was with him. With tears in her eyes, Faith scurried her way around where the two stood and ran back to the booth. Surely Angela hadn’t lied to her. Maybe they had just happened to meet.

  Now Tom would most certainly not bid on her box. He intended to have supper with Angela. How could she ever compete with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and sweet disposition of Angela Booker?

  From the corner of her eye Angela spotted Faith down the street. Now Faith would think Angela had lied about not going to the festival with Tom. She’d have to explain the first chance she had. She turned her attention back to Tom, who had been asking her about the orphanage in Dallas. He had just asked her how large the orphanage was.

  “The orphanage has several hundred children now, and they need furnishings. We hope to collect enough money to pay for six beds and six chairs.”

  “How generous and thoughtful of your church to undertake such a project. Are you happy with the story Gretchen published about the festival earlier this week?”

  “Yes, it was perfect. We’re happy the newspaper was so willing to help us publicize the event.”

  “We’re always open to anything for the good of Stoney Creek.” He smiled and offered her his forearm. “Would you like to take a walk down to the Delmont booth for a cup of hot cocoa? Mr. Hempstead special orders the cocoa for Mrs. Delmont to use in her cooking.”

  She glanced down at her hand on his
arm and started to pull it back, but what harm would there be if they were simply going for a stroll? “That sounds delightful. It’ll help to ward off the little chill I feel.”

  They ambled down to the next block, and Angela breathed deeply of the delicious aromas coming from the food booths.

  Tom stopped and sniffed the air. “Mr. Dietrich is making his funnel cakes again. He pours batter through a funnel into hot oil, and the dough fries up good and crunchy. He has syrup, sugar, or homemade preserves to top them.”

  “Ooh, that sounds delicious. Do let’s get one.”

  “Of course, I’d be delighted to share one with you. He makes them really big.” They approached the booth and Mr. Dietrich greeted them with his characteristic German brogue.

  “Gut mornin’, Tom. Here for one of my cakes, are ya?’

  “Yes, sir, I am.” He placed a coin on the counter as Mr. Dietrich lifted the cake from the hot oil and drained it. He placed it on a clean piece of parchment and laid it on the counter.

  “Now, what shall I put on top?”

  Tom glanced at Angela. “What shall it be?”

  “Just the sugar. Syrup and preserves may be too messy.”

  After sprinkling the top with a cinnamon sugar mixture, Mr. Dietrich handed over the concoction. “Here ya go. Enjoy.”

  Tom pinched off a generous portion and gave it to Angela. When her lips closed around the bite she’d taken, the sweet crunchy goodness delighted her taste buds. “Oh, my, this is even better than it smells. I have to tell Mother and Aunt Daisy about them.”

  “Looks like Mr. Dietrich has won over another customer.” Tom grinned and popped a morsel into his mouth.

  When they had finished the delicacy, Angela dusted her hands together. “I think I’m ready for that hot chocolate now.”

  “Um, before we do that, would you consider going for a ride tomorrow afternoon after lunch? We could ride down by the creek. That is, if the weather stays this nice.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Tom was inviting her for a ride and a picnic. This could be a chance to really get to know him better. “I’d be delighted to spend the afternoon with you. Thank you for asking.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at two o’clock at the parsonage.” Angela again grasped his arm, and they made their way to the Delmont stand for hot cocoa. When they stepped up to the counter, Faith turned her back on the two and busied herself with a plate of cookies in the back. Mrs. Delmont scowled at her daughter before turning to Tom and Angela.

  “What will it be for you?”

  “Two hot cocoas if you please.”

  Angela stared at Faith’s back, and guilt stole into her heart. Faith had welcomed her to town and been nothing but cordial and friendly. Now here she was with Tom, for whom Faith apparently had feelings. Doubt clouded her mind about tomorrow’s ride. She’d have to find out more about Faith and Tom’s relationship and make sure she wasn’t muddying the waters between them.

  Mrs. Delmont handed them the two cups, and Tom plunked down the coins for the drinks. When Tom led her toward a bench where they could sit and drink their chocolate, Angela glanced back, but Faith still had her back to them. Definitely not a good sign.

  After the cocoa Angela excused herself by telling Tom she’d meet him later after she helped her mother in their church’s booth, where the ladies were selling quilts and needlework.

  When she reached the booth, a number of customers browsed among the items for sale. Aunt Daisy welcomed her and set Angela about collecting money from the buyers.

  Even as she smiled at people and wrote receipts for purchases, her thoughts were on what happened at the Delmont booth. Faith had completely ignored their presence. This was so unusual for the usually sunny and friendly Faith. What if Faith cared for Tom as more than a friend? Angela couldn’t come between them. Somehow she’d have to make amends even though she truly enjoyed Tom’s company.

  When time came for the box supper auction, Angela hurried to the First Church’s grounds. All the boxes had been placed on a table for display. Angela spotted hers right off. She joined the other women who waited on the sidelines for the bidding to begin.

  Clara grabbed Angela’s arm. “Isn’t this exciting? I do hope Theodore understood my hint about my box. Even though that may be cheating, I don’t want to share it with anyone else.”

  Angela laughed. “I’m sure he’ll know which one is yours. I don’t really care. I think it would be fun to have someone new win my box.”

  “Well, I’ve seen plenty of the cowboys in town, so they’ll be bidding good and high to get a box from one of the single girls.”

  The bidding began, and the first boxes went quickly. Jeb Cooper had the highest bid on Miss O’Neal’s box, and a cowboy bid highest on Miss Simmons’s box, with Theodore Gladstone winning Clara’s.

  When one decorated in the colors of fall came up and Tom bid on it, Angela realized that it must be Faith’s box. Angela bit her lip. If Tom won the box, maybe it would soothe Faith’s feelings, and she would not think so poorly of Angela.

  When the bidding finally ended, two cowboys had outbid Tom on both Faith’s and Angela’s boxes. A flash of compassion for Faith stabbed Angela’s heart. Her face registered disappointment, but then Faith smiled and wandered off with the young man who won the bid.

  “Miss Booker, I believe this is your box.”

  Angela glanced up to find a clean-shaven, nicely dressed cowboy holding her box. “Yes, it is.” She extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, and I do hope you enjoy the meal I prepared.”

  “Anything prepared by hands pretty as yours will be tasty.” He offered her his arm and led her to one of the tables set up for eating.

  She had wanted to meet more people, so here was her chance. After all, she did have a picnic planned with Tom tomorrow, and then she’d have her chance to get to know him better. But should she have agreed to meet him? If anything happened between Tom and her, how would Faith react?

  Angela drove the thought from her mind and concentrated on the cowboy seated across from her. One step at a time . . .

  CHAPTER 13

  TOM HITCHED HIS pa’s horse to the buggy. The weather had cooperated with sunshine for his afternoon ride with Angela Booker. The time had come for him to get to know her better. He had known Faith his whole life, but Angela only a few months. Still, he’d known Angela long enough to know that, like Faith, she was a beautiful Christian woman who shared his faith and reliance on God.

  He’d prayed about which young woman should be a part of his future, but so far the Lord had been silent on Tom’s love life. This afternoon’s ride down to the creek should shed some light on his predicament. He’d even had Ma fix up a basket of cookies and lemonade for refreshment.

  The week hadn’t revealed any new truths about Joe either. Faith had told him about seeing Joe going into the bank, and Tom drew the conclusion that Joe had opened an account and would stay in Stoney Creek longer than he had originally planned. This meant Tom would now have more time to dig into Joe’s past. Although he hadn’t come up with a way to do so, Tom’s confidence in his investigative skills assured him he would find more information.

  Tom stowed the basket in the buggy and drove the few blocks to the parsonage behind Reverend Booker’s church. After dropping the hitching stone, Tom made his way to the front door. The church and parsonage had been here only a short time, but they blended in with the town so well they didn’t look quite so new.

  He lifted his hand to knock, but the door opened before he could do so. He poised with his hand in the air as Angela grinned at him.

  “I was watching for you from the window. My parents have a couple from church visiting, and Aunt Daisy is taking a little rest, so I hurried to meet you.”

  A chuckle escaped Tom. “And you almost had a rap on the nose.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but now that you’re here, shall we be going? I’ve already said good-bye to Mama and Papa.” She wrapped her shawl about her shoulde
rs and pulled the door closed behind her.

  “Of course, and our carriage awaits.” He held her elbow and walked beside her to the buggy.

  A few minutes later he turned the buggy down the road leading to the creek. “I hope you don’t mind riding down by Stoney Creek. It’s nice this time of year. The trees have all turned to their fall colors and offer a beautiful setting.”

  “I don’t mind at all. I love this time of the year. The weather here is perfect. We lived in the northwest part of the state, and November usually meant cold weather and getting ready for winter.”

  “Here in the lower part of Texas it doesn’t start getting colder until later in the month, maybe around Thanksgiving.” Tom groaned inside. Couldn’t he come up with a better topic than the weather?

  Angela, though, continued the conversation. “I’ve really grown to love the people and the town. Everyone has been very friendly, and there has been no rivalry or competition between our new church and your old, established one.”

  A wave of relief washed over Tom. This was a much better topic. “I believe that’s because there is always room for another church to fill with people who love God and want to worship. Any place growing in population needs more than one church to meet their needs.”

  Angela cut her gaze toward him. “Those are my father’s sentiments. When a few people from town decided to build another church, they came to Father with the news that the town was growing and needed another church. Since he’s a man of vision, he accepted the challenge to come here and begin the new church.”

  “And it looks like it’s doing well. I may have to come over and visit just to see what’s going on.” He pulled the horse to a stop. “Here we are at one of my favorite spots.”

  He stepped down from the buggy then went around to help Angela down from her seat. He reached behind her for the basket and a blanket. “I have lemonade and cookies and a blanket to sit on. Ma thought we might enjoy these as we talked.”