Christmas with the Cookes

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Christmas with the Cookes Page 12

by Kit Morgan


  Annie turned back to Jefferson. “Front or back?”

  Colin put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “How about back?”

  “What? Father!”

  Annie bent to the pew so she could write. “So that makes Lorelei the front.” She jotted it down.

  “What?! Um, no. No, no.”

  Annie looked at her. “Unless you’d like to be the one stooped over.”

  Lorelei opened and closed her mouth a few times before inspiration struck. “But … it seems rather improper to be sharing a costume with a young man …”

  Annie frowned. “You’re right. Maybe I should ask Owen Kincaid.”

  Jefferson shrunk back in the pew. “Or have her and Adele do it –”

  “Oh, no – you’ve gotten out of the play the last three years,” Colin said. “It’s your family and town duty to take a part this year.” He looked at Annie expectantly. “Speaking of parts, have you cast Joseph yet?”

  “Colin, you know we cast Joseph and Mary last.”

  “Yes, but today is the last day, is it not?”

  Annie smiled at him. “True, but you’ll still have to wait a little while longer.” She went down the aisle to speak with Grandma Waller and the old man with her – Grandpa Waller? They weren’t trying out for anything, just watching everyone else and laughing.

  “The camel,” Jefferson groused under his breath.

  “Is it that bad?”

  “No, but I’d rather watch the play than be in it.”

  “I’ve never been in a play. Never wanted to.”

  “What? Never?” he said with disbelief. “But it’s fun.”

  “You just said you’d rather not do it.”

  “When I was younger, I loved it. Now it’s more fun to watch.”

  She looked away. She didn’t want to make too much eye contact with him. When she did, it was hard to stop.

  “You should take the front, like Annie said,” he advised.

  She thought a moment, then shook her head. Up on stage for hours with Jefferson’s head level with her butt? No, no, no, no, no. “Who plays the donkey? You know, the one Mary rides on to the inn?”

  He grinned. “Father and Uncle Harrison tried one year, and it was hilarious. Mrs. King was playing Mary and kept falling off. Since then, whoever plays Mary sits on a pretend donkey. It’s kept at the livery stable during the year – Mr. Adams the blacksmith is in charge of it.”

  She smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  He gazed at her, cleared his throat and looked away. Was he trying as hard not to look at her as she was at him? Under different circumstances, she’d be flattered, excited even. But all things considered, what was the point?

  The rest of the afternoon was full of friendly bickering over parts and Grandma’s delightful cackles from the back of the church. Her husband, Lorelei learned, was Doc Waller, the original doctor in town. Doc Drake’s wife Elsie was their niece.

  She’d noticed Jefferson and some of the others spoke carefully about Doc Drake, and she couldn’t understand why. It was as if they were hiding something. Was he a criminal? Had something happened? Was he even a real doctor? That last thought was disturbing, to say the least. It was bad enough he was a nineteenth-century doctor without being a quack besides. Yet he was so peaceful and calming …

  By the time they got to reading for the part of Joseph, Colin looked like he needed a chill pill. He had a determined gleam in his eyes that made Belle roll hers. “Now, Colin, don’t be disappointed if Annie doesn’t pick you this year. Just because you think it’s your turn doesn’t mean she does.”

  “Of course she does. She keeps track of all these things.”

  She looked at Lorelei and Jefferson and made a face. Lorelei giggled. It felt good. She liked these people – she was just afraid of liking them too much.

  “And now for Joseph,” Annie announced. “Josiah, will you start?”

  “Josiah?” Colin echoed. “But he always narrates, or directs, or …”

  “Colin,” Belle said. “Quiet.” She tucked a finger under his chin and physically shut his mouth.

  He narrowed his eyes. “It’s a conspiracy.”

  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, stop.”

  He faced front; his eyes glued to the preacher.

  “Preacher Jo is really good,” Jefferson whispered as the man began to speak his lines.

  “He sounds like he is,” she agreed.

  “Father looks like he ate a bad apple.”

  Lorelei peeked past Belle at Colin, who watched the preacher like a cougar ready to pounce. “He really wants to play Joseph, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, probably because Uncle Harrison isn’t here. This is the first time my aunt, uncle and cousins aren’t here for Christmas.”

  “Does it feel weird?”

  “Weird?”

  “Odd.”

  He shrugged. “A little. But more lonely than anything else.”

  She closed her eyes a moment. She knew exactly what that was like. “I understand.”

  He gazed at her and smiled.

  “Doc Waller?!” Colin cried as the old man got up and shuffled to the front of the church. “But …”

  “Colin, control yourself,” Belle said. “If Doc wants to play Joseph, then let him.”

  Doc cleared his throat, held the sheet of lines before him, and with a dramatic sweep of his arm, began to read.

  “Ohhhh,” Colin covered his mouth with his hands and groaned.

  Lorelei and Jefferson laughed into theirs.

  And then … “Colin Cooke,” Annie called.

  “At long last,” he said, stood and headed for the front of the church.

  Lorelei, Jefferson and the rest of Colin’s family watched as the man cleared his throat, gave Doc Waller a pointed look, then began to read his lines. “He’s not bad,” Lorelei commented. “I think the accent helps.”

  Jefferson’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “It does, doesn’t it?”

  When he was done, he returned to their pew with a satisfied smile. “I think that went rather well.”

  Belle eyed him but said nothing.

  Colin glanced around, still grinning. “Why don’t you read a part, darling?”

  “Because I’m in charge of costumes. That takes up enough time and you know it.” She narrowed her eyes. “I hope you’re not already gloating. You don’t know if you have it yet.”

  “Of course I do. After all, it is my turn.”

  Jefferson and Lorelei snorted.

  “Quiet, you two,” he warned. “Besides, fair is fair.”

  Lorelei smiled at him. She was having a good time. The Cookes were no different than … well, any other family she dreamed were her own. They were as far from what she’d had – foster families like the Browns – as they could be. She might be in the past, but she felt more at home here than she ever had in the 21st century.

  It figured.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The reading of parts completed – along with the announcement that Colin would be playing Joseph this year, thus avoiding a scene – the Cookes left the church, piled into the wagon and headed into town. “Aren’t we going home?” Lorelei asked.

  “No – now we get to eat at the hotel!” Parthena said excitedly.

  “You’ll like the hotel,” said Jefferson. “It’s fancy, but don’t let it scare you. It’s not expensive. Cyrus keeps the prices low for all of us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What he means is,” Colin said, still proudly smiling, “the good people of Clear Creek are the ones that support the hotel, so he returns the favor by keeping prices reasonable. We don’t get many visitors to town so he’s not making money from the rooms.”

  “Cyrus makes most of his money off afternoon tea and the hotel restaurant,” Jefferson explained.

  Lorelei’s face lit up. “There’s afternoon tea?” She’d always wanted to sit down to an old-fashioned tea. Maybe now was her chance.

  “Every da
y at four,” Colin announced from his perch on the wagon seat.

  “A town that has tea every afternoon at four? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Yes, I know, it’s not something every town does,” Belle agreed. “But given how many English we have here, then add in Bostonians like myself, my uncle Wilfred, Levi Stone and the Van Cleets, and all the Irish … well, you get the idea.”

  “That does make sense,” Lorelei said. “I bet it’s wonderful.”

  “What will you bet?” Jefferson asked.

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. “It’s a figure of speech.”

  They parked the wagon across the street from the hotel and went inside. Mr. Brody sat behind the counter. “Watch this,” Jefferson whispered to her as they came through the door.

  Mr. Brody’s eyes were fixed on them, though she knew he couldn’t see. He slowly stood. “Is that you, Colin?”

  Lorelei’s jaw dropped. Jefferson smiled and winked at her.

  “It is, Lorcan,” Colin said.

  “Congratulations on getting the part of Joseph this year. I’m sure ye’ll do it justice.”

  The man was Irish – Lorelei hadn’t noticed before. So that was what Belle meant by “all the Irish” – Mr. Brody and the Mulligans and probably some more she hadn’t met yet. It wasn’t surprising – she’d read Thomas Keneally’s The Great Shame and knew that the Irish had spread out all over, even before the Potato Famine. Including her own Carson ancestors.

  “Thank you. And congratulations at getting the part of the Andel tree.”

  “Aye, it’s a grand part indeed. No lines. I just have to make sure I don’t lose me leaves.”

  Everyone laughed, giving themselves away.

  “Here for dinner, are ye?”

  “Yes, the lot of us,” Colin said.

  Lorcan went still. Everything went silent. He tilted his head to the side. “Who’s that with ye, Colin?”

  Lorelei took a breath. “How did he know?” she whispered.

  Colin motioned her forward. “Lorcan Brody, this is Lorelei Carson. The MacDonalds brought her to us for … well, they didn’t tell us, but you know the MacDonalds.”

  Lorcan laughed as she went to the counter and stared at the blind man. His eyes locked right on her, and she took another breath and froze. “Aye – those MacDonalds are as tight with facts as most Scots are with shillings. Ye needn’t be afraid of me, lass. Watching me miracle can be a little unnerving at first, but I don’t argue with the Almighty for giving it to me.”

  She began to lift her hand but stopped herself from waving it in front of him. Wouldn’t that be rude?

  “Go ahead,” Colin said.

  Apparently not. But instead she raised her other hand.

  “There’s no need to surrender, lass. Me senses are good, but I don’t dare wield a pistol.”

  She gaped at him. “How is this possible?”

  Lorcan laughed again. “Ah, lass, this is Clear Creek. All sorts of things are possible. Now, Carson – a good Irish lass? Tell me, where do yer people hail from?”

  “I … really don’t know.” Which was true enough.

  Colin took her elbow and steered her toward the hotel’s dining room. “We need to get seated. Ta-ta, Lorcan.”

  “Enjoy your meal,” Lorcan called after them.

  “Thank you, we will,” Belle replied.

  But before they even made it to a table, a plump woman with bright blue eyes and blonde hair going gray entered the dining room and headed straight for them. “Colin, Belle, it’s so good to see you!”

  Colin pulled a chair out for Belle as Lorelei and the rest took seats. “Good afternoon, Sally. We’re here for dinner. What are the evening’s choices?”

  “Rosie’s made two selections: roast chicken or beef stew.” She looked at Lorelei and smiled. “Howdy, honey. You must be new in town.” She glanced at Colin and Belle. “She a relation of yours?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Colin said. “The MacDonalds came through recently and left her in our care.”

  “Is that so?” Sally said, hands on her hips. She went straight to Lorelei’s chair. “Welcome to Clear Creek, honey! Any friend of the MacDonalds and the Cookes is a friend of mine.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Lorelei said shyly. My, but the woman was exuberant.

  “Lorelei,” Colin said, “may I introduce you to one of the finest cooks in Clear Creek if not the entire Northwest, Mrs. Sally Upton. Sally, this is Lorelei Carson.”

  “Good to meet you, Lorelei – and what a pretty name. Who wants coffee?” She took everyone’s drink orders then hurried back to the kitchen. Lorelei wished Beatrice could be here to watch this. If only they had someone like Sally at Daisy’s Café – it would sure liven the place up.

  “What are you thinking?” Jefferson asked.

  For the first time since sitting down, she noticed he was right next to her. Come to think of it, he’d been by her side since they left the ranch. “I like Mrs. Upton. She’s jolly.”

  “That she is. And Father’s right, she’s an excellent cook – almost as good as Great Aunt Irene. Some people in town think she’s better.”

  “Don’t tell your great-aunt that, though,” Belle advised with a smile.

  “You’d best be forewarned, my dear,” Colin said. “There’s been a rivalry between Sally and my wife’s dear Aunt Irene for decades.”

  “It’s true,” Adele said. “We love when they get into a fight because they start cooking all these wonderful things and everybody gets to judge whose is best.”

  Lorelei couldn’t help laughing. “That’s awesome.”

  The Cookes looked at one another. “I’ve never thought of it that way,” Colin said. “But yes, I suppose it is … awesome.”

  Lorelei frowned. She’d slipped again. Her 21st-century idioms and sayings were different from those in 1879. She was beginning to feel so comfortable with these people that it was hard to remember to watch what she was saying.

  “What are you going to have?” Parthena asked her.

  She glanced around the table. “So there aren’t any menus?”

  “No, around here Rosie or Sally decide what they’re going to make on any particular day,” Colin explained. “There’s usually only a few choices.”

  Lorelei’s jaw dropped. If only it was like that at Daisy’s! Not that it mattered now …

  “Yes, most visitors are as shocked as you are,” Colin said. “But it’s a simple system and it works.”

  She recalled what Sally had said before about the two options. “I guess I’ll have the roast chicken, then.”

  While they waited, they told her the story of Lorcan Brody, who’d lost his sight in a boxing match, came to Clear Creek and received a miracle. He couldn’t see, but he could “feel” what was around him, including movement. If only she had internet access, she could look up what such a phenomenon was called. Because it had to have an explanation, didn’t it?

  She gave her order to Sally along with everyone else, then watched as other townsfolk filed in the dining room to eat. “Is this place usually full?” she asked Jefferson.

  “A lot of folks are here tonight because they just came from the church like us. It’s too late to start supper at home. Most folks have an early bedtime you know.”

  “I understand.” She thought of her electric alarm clock. This morning she was awoken by the crowing of roosters. It was a simple thing, but it made her happy to hear them.

  She didn’t speak much as they waited for their meals, too busy studying the room. The Van Cleet Hotel was out of place in such a small town. Jefferson saw her gawking and explained. “Cyrus has a bit of money and spared no expense when he built this place. We don’t get many guests staying in it, but that’s okay. Everyone in town enjoys eating here and having tea.”

  “Why did he build it?” It didn’t make sense.

  “Because he could.”

  She smiled at him. “It must be nice to be that rich.”

  “Your fam
ily doesn’t have a lot of money?”

  She shook her head. “Remember? What family?”

  “I’m sorry, that was rude,” he said with a chastised look. “It’s just that the dress you had on when Father and Mother brought you home, and you don’t know how to milk a cow or feed chickens … don’t they do that in … where you’re from?”

  She sighed and looked away. She’d always felt out of place, but out of time was a whole different story.

  Belle came to the rescue. “Jefferson, you of all people know better.”

  Lorelei managed a smile for Jefferson. “I’ll tell you what,” she whispered. “When little ears aren’t around to hear, I’ll answer any questions you have, okay?”

  “Thank you.” Jefferson was blushing. It was adorable.

  Speaking of little ears … “What happened to your family?” Parthena asked softly.

  “They died in a fire.” That, at least, was a truth she could share without frightening anyone. They had fires in the 1870s.

  “Children, that’s Lorelei’s private business,” Belle said. “If she wants to tell you, she can in her own good time, but not now.”

  Lorelei smiled in thanks. They’d been very courteous and hadn’t pried into her background much. Which meant they trusted the MacDonalds more than she thought. But that didn’t explain why the MacDonalds kidnapped her and brought her here in the first place.

  Jefferson touched her arm. “Something wrong?” he asked with concern.

  She glanced at his hand, then his face. “It’s not easy getting used to here. And now. I’ll be fine.”

  Thankfully, before anyone could ask more questions, their meals came. A younger woman helped Sally serve, and Lorelei was fascinated to find out she was a mail-order bride who’d married one of Pleasant Turner’s six brothers. “My goodness, there are a lot of big families in this town.”

  “How big is your family?” Parthena asked, then winced. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “That’s all right,” Lorelei said. “I’m an only child.”

  They stared at her with a mix of sympathy and surprise.

  Sally set her plate of roast chicken in front of her. “That’s all right, honey. You’re in Clear Creek now. Around here, everyone’s your family.”

 

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