Stomping down the hall to the parlor, she let out an exasperated sigh to see Luke and Filly involved in a passionate kiss as they sat before the fire.
“Must you two always be pawing at each other so? It is positively indecent. Mother would have apoplexy if she were here,” Ginny said, fisting her hands at her hips and glaring at Luke defiantly.
“Must you skulk about?” Luke asked, releasing Filly who quickly jumped to her feet, her face a bright shade of red as she made some excuse about needing to check something upstairs and fleeing from the room. “You forget, you ungrateful little urchin, this is my house, my wife, and I’ll kiss her anytime I feel like it, regardless of your thoughts on the matter.”
Luke’s words would have stung if she hadn’t seen his teasing smile. “Don’t be a jealous old hag, Ginny Lou. Can’t you just be happy I found the perfect woman for me?”
“I am happy for you, Luke. For you and Filly.” Ginny squeezed his arm as they walked down the hall to the library, meaning what she said. “She’s everything Dad and Mother claimed her to be and more. Why don’t I remember her from our school years, though? She’s not that much older than me.”
“You were always so involved with your group of friends, I don’t think you paid any attention to the other children.” Luke hoped his answer satisfied his sister. The last thing he wanted was for her to know Filly’s father, the town drunk, imprisoned her on his farm when she was fourteen. Two years ago, Luke went out to the farm to collect payment on a loan and ended up accepting Filly in a crazy scheme her father made to cancel his debt.
She was the best bargain he’d ever made.
Although his parents knew the truth, very few people in town connected lovely Filly Granger with drunken Alford Booth. Luke planned to keep it that way. Other than his assistant, Arlan, the sheriff and his deputy, Chauncy and Abby Dodd, George and Aleta Bruner, and Blake Stratton, the rest of the residents of Hardman had no idea about Filly’s background.
Most everyone agreed Luke had a beautiful, kind-hearted wife who loved him to distraction, regardless of how she came to be at Granger House.
If Ginny found out the truth, Luke worried what she’d do with it or how she’d treat Filly. He hoped she’d matured enough she wouldn’t judge his wife, but something whispered that Ginny hadn’t quite grown up that much, yet.
The proof of that sat in a stack of flyers on his desk. Picking up the papers, Luke read the advertisement, admitting that it merely stated the many things Blake was capable of creating without making it sound like he was destitute in any way. It did leave a person thinking he was looking for work, though.
Straightening the stack, he replaced it on his desk and motioned for Ginny to take a seat. Settling herself in a chair across the large desk from Luke, she wished he’d get to the point of her summons to the library. Her foot bumped against something and she bent to pick up the book of poetry she’d thrown earlier. Stuffing it down in the chair beside her so Luke wouldn’t notice it, she gave him her full attention.
“I see you’ve been busy arranging things that aren’t necessarily of your concern,” Luke said, looking pointedly at the flyers.
“Well… I…”
“Now would be a good time to sit quietly, Ginny.”
Luke didn’t raise his head, instead picking up a pen and a sheaf of paper. He started writing rapidly while asking Ginny questions about things she’d done in the past few years, what types of activities she enjoyed, beyond shopping and interfering in other people’s lives, and what sorts of skills she possessed in addition to pouting and charming men.
Irritated with her brother and his insulting comments, she knew making him further annoyed wasn’t going to help things and wisely kept her thoughts to herself.
“What are you doing, Luke?” Ginny asked, sitting forward as Luke pulled out another clean sheet of paper and began writing again. She could see the first piece of paper appeared to be a list of some sort.
“According to what you just shared, your skills include furthering the suffragette movement, writing letters of complaint to political figures and government officials, embroidery, painting landscape scenes, playing the piano, and fashion. You obviously have some skill in creating advertisements, spinning tales, and the ability to spread news,” Luke said, leaning back in his chair and grinning at his sister. “Unless you plan to play the piano at the saloon, become a fixture in front of the sheriff’s house, or terrorize Abby’s customers with fashion critiques, I would advise you to apply for a job with Mr. Daily.”
Ginny’s jaw dropped and she stared at her brother as if he was speaking in some unknown tongue.
“Are you serious, Luke?” she asked then decided he was teasing. “Is this one of the times when you infuriate me and then I figure out you’re only being ornery?”
“No.” Quiet filled the room. The only sound Ginny heard was the rustle of her skirts as she shifted nervously in her chair. Luke broke the stillness by drumming his fingers on his desk.
“But, Luke…”
“Before you go from indignant to hysterical, just hear me out,” Luke said, pinning her with his icy blue stare. “You obviously have way too much time on your hands. You have little interest and even less aptitude for learning any domestic arts. I know for a fact you aren’t doing anything around here despite the fact my wife continually makes excuses for you. You’re too temperamental to work with the public and there aren’t any suffrage committees around Hardman for you to spearhead. Mr. Daily needs a part-time reporter and I think, with your education and experiences, you’d do a good job.”
Luke watched her gaze flit from her lap to the fire crackling in the fireplace across the room. Seeing her lip begin to protrude in a pout, he lost his temper. “Dang it, Ginny, you need to do something useful. Filling your day with idle chatter, stirring up trouble for our friends, and lazing away entire afternoons by the fire isn’t acceptable. It’s your choice if you want to remain single and ‘unfettered,’ as you call it, but it’s long past time for you to take responsibility for yourself and stop acting like a child.”
“That is ridiculous. I do take responsibility for myself,” Ginny said defensively, raising her chin slightly.
“Really?” Luke asked, trying not to laugh at the serious expression on her face. “Is that what you call receiving a monthly allowance from Dad? It’s more than most men around here earn in a year. What do you do with that money, Ginny? Hmm? I’ll tell you. You squander it on clothes and frippery, and useless pursuits. If you want to be your own person, shape your own future, you really need to stand on your own two feet.”
Shocked by Luke’s words, Ginny didn’t know what to say. Beyond the point of tears, she was angry. Still miffed from her confrontation with Blake, she wanted to know what gave Luke the right to speak to her so. Even if he was her brother, even if what he said was true, she didn’t appreciate his lecture.
“Knowing you, you’re sitting there mad at me and thinking about your options of leaving and going somewhere else. Before you make any rash decisions, please consider the fact that you are welcome to stay here with Filly and I as long as you like. You’ve been given an opportunity to stretch and grow as a person without Mother or Dad here to shelter you. I’d like to see you take advantage of it and use it to your benefit. You’re smart, Ginny Lou, sometimes too smart for your own good. Don’t waste your intelligence by flitting your life away. Do something meaningful with it, something worthwhile.”
“What do you suggest, then?” Ginny asked, refusing to raise her gaze from her lap to her brother’s face, somewhat mollified by Luke telling her she was smart.
“I suggest you think about what I said. If you are agreeable, we can discuss a plan in the morning over breakfast,” Luke said, getting to his feet and walking her back to the parlor where Filly set down a tray with tea and slices of gingerbread cake.
“Be the person God intended you to be, Ginny,” Luke said and kissed the top of her head before crossing the room and taking
a seat next to his wife.
Chapter Five
Infuriated by Ginny Granger and her intrusive behavior, Blake stalked away from Granger House and marched through town, oblivious to the world around him.
It was almost dark when he stomped up the steps to his house and threw open the door. As he jerked off his coat and hat, he realized his horse was still in a stall in Luke’s barn. Luke insisted he leave the horse in the barn while he worked at their house, since he was there for the entire day.
There was no way he was walking back to get Samson at this hour.
Not only was it dark and cold outside, he’d rather crawl back to town on his hand and knees than spend one more minute with that spiteful, meddling woman.
Thinking again of how alluring she looked sitting in the big chair by the fire with her feet curled under her and the glow from the flames highlighting her hair and porcelain skin, Blake marched to the sink and splashed cold water on his face.
She was like some incurable disease, worming her way under his skin. It was bad enough she tormented him during his waking hours with her tempting smile and captivating fragrance, but at night she haunted his dreams. The sound of her voice, the feel of that wild, curly hair between his fingers, her porcelain skin, and enchanting blue eyes filled every moment of his slumber.
He thought he’d finally conquered his longing for her. It took years for the gaping wound in his heart to heal, for thoughts of her to bring something besides acute, intense pain. Just when he finally felt free, she had to go and fall at his feet off the stage.
Recalling the look on her face as the driver tossed her bag and knocked her into the mud made him chuckle. Someone needed to knock her on her bustle every so often. She was entirely too full of herself.
What kind of lunatic would want to spend a lifetime saddled with a woman incapable of minding her own business, one so selfish and frivolous? She was maddening, at the very least.
Ginny rarely thought about how her actions would affect others, blindly plunging ahead and doing whatever she pleased.
Refusing to acknowledge she may have only been trying to help him, he fought down any softening of his anger toward her. The woman needed the wind knocked from her sails. She needed to discover she didn’t know everything. She needed to realize she could be wrong.
What she really needed was a strong man to take her in hand. A man to hold her, kiss her, and love her until she forgot about everything else.
Groaning at the direction his thoughts had taken, Blake fried ham and eggs for dinner, sitting at his table trying to think of anything but the fair-haired woman who breezed into town and turned his world upside down.
Washing his few dishes and putting them away, he lit a lantern and went out to tend to his stock. When his father returned to England, he left behind his horses. Although Blake sold several, he kept the best horses for breeding of future stock.
A large dark head bumped his shoulder over the door of a stall, almost knocking him off balance.
“Romeo, you brute, I’ll thank you not to tip me over,” Blake admonished the big stallion as the animal bobbed his head, looking like he was laughing. Filling the horse’s water bucket and tossing hay in the stall, he took a minute to rub the horse’s massive neck and scratch behind his ears.
“Why must women, that woman in particular, be so taxing and exasperating?”
The horse shook his mane and made a sound Blake took as agreement.
“You don’t have any problems with females, do you boy? Nope. You show up, have a good time, then come back here to a life of leisure,” Blake said, grinning at the horse as he rubbed Romeo’s nose. “Be glad you are a horse and not a human.”
Finishing his chores, Blake returned to the house and decided to write a letter to his parents. He tried to keep it light and interesting, but found himself writing of Ginny coming back to town and her having the newspaper office print flyers without asking him.
Sitting back in his chair, he thought of the look on Ginny’s face when he leaned close and called her a nosy ninny. Her eyes begged him for a kiss every bit as much as that rosy mouth of hers.
He wondered if she was more frightened at the prospect of him actually taking liberties with her lips than she was by his anger.
After the way he spoke to her, he supposed it would be a while before she’d talk to him, let alone stick her nose in where it didn’t belong.
He’d ignore her altogether, but it would be difficult since he had at least another day of work at Granger House.
Finishing his letter, he addressed an envelope then sealed it inside. Knowing he was too wound up to sleep, he went to his workshop and took out a project he was working on for Chauncy. The pastor asked him to build new pews for the church before Christmas, and those he would have done in plenty of time.
The piece before him would be a new lectern for the pastor. The man had no idea Blake was making it, which was part of the fun. Blake planned to deliver it to the church in time for the Christmas Eve service.
The scene he was carefully carving depicted a star dancing above a flock of sheep, watched over by shepherds. In the background would be a barn with a barely visible manger in an open door.
Smiling as he carved the head of a lamb, Blake hoped the pastor would like his gift. He knew the precious gift of the babe in a manger was one of Chauncy’s favorite talking points during his sermons.
Blake thought of that babe, so innocent and small, yet destined for great things - things beyond the human mind’s ability to comprehend fully.
Thinking of Joseph and Mary, a lowly carpenter and his wife, Blake pondered the heart of Joseph. His thoughts eventually brought him back around to Ginny and he felt a stab of guilt about speaking so harshly to her.
Convicted by his temper, he realized he probably should apologize, even if the woman sorely tested his patience and drove him to distraction.
Walking into town before the sun fully filled the morning sky, Blake waved at Chauncy as he hurried from the church toward the parsonage.
“Morning, Blake. What brings you out so early today?” Chauncy called as he stopped by the parsonage front walk.
“I forgot my horse yesterday at Granger House and wanted to take him to the livery for his morning feed before I get too busy concentrating on that woodwork today,” Blake said, knowing Chauncy was aware he was doing some repairs for Luke and Filly. Luke wanted the flooring and paneling to exactly match, so it was taking Blake time to make sure each piece looked perfect, but those were the types of projects he enjoyed the most. There was nothing like a challenge to pique his interest and stoke his creativity.
Chauncy laughed at him, reaching out to slap his back. “Come in and have breakfast before you go over. Abby always makes plenty and I know Erin will be thrilled to see you.”
“I don’t want to impose,” Blake said, taking a step away from the pastor, looking down the street in the direction of Granger House.
“You’re not imposing if I insist,” Chauncy said, throwing an arm around Blake’s shoulders, turning him toward the front door. “I think Abby was making pancakes this morning.”
Eating his fill of Abby’s hearty breakfast, he sat visiting with Chauncy and bouncing Erin on his knee while enjoying a second cup of coffee.
Thanking Abby for the meal, he finished his coffee and stood, putting on his coat and picking up his hat.
“Me go wif Unca Bake,” Erin said, tugging on the hem of his coat and looking up at him with big blue eyes in her cherubic little face. Her smile revealed pearly little teeth and the emphatic nod of her head as she talked set her dark curls bobbing. “Pease? Me go wif Unca Bake.”
Blake looked from Chauncy to Abby who stood shaking their heads. “It’s cold outside this morning, honey. You better stay inside where it’s warm with your mama,” he said hunkering down and holding one of the little girl’s tiny hands in his own.
“I gots a coat,” Erin said and ran to the door, pointing to her coat and scarf.
<
br /> “Erin, you let Blake be on his way. He has work to do today and doesn’t have time for you to be underfoot,” Chauncy said, walking toward the child.
Blake took in her moist eyes and pouty lip, trembling with unshed tears, and felt his heart turn to mush.
“Tell you what, Miss Erin, if your mama and daddy don’t mind, you can go with me to get Samson. I need to take him to Mr. Douglas at the livery and get him some breakfast then I can bring you home. How would that be?” Blake asked, hoping Chauncy and Abby wouldn’t mind him taking Erin out for a few minutes.
“Pease, Daddy. Pease? Me go wif Unca Bake!” Erin begged. When Chauncy took down her coat and held it for her, she squealed with glee. Abby wrapped the scarf around her little head and neck then secured her mittens in place before giving Blake a look that said he still had time to back out. He nodded his head and smiled down at the charming child.
“Shall we go?”
“Yep! Tank you, Daddy,” Erin said, hugging her father’s leg enthusiastically before holding her hands up to Blake.
He swung her into his arms and tipped his hat at Abby before opening the door and strolling down the walk, toward the edge of town.
Erin kept up a lively chatter as he walked and they stopped to look at two birds sitting on a tree limb then studied the way the sun was melting frost from the boardwalk.
Nearing Granger House, Blake waved as Luke strode out of the barn, wearing a broad smile.
“What are you doing with Blake, sweet girl?” Luke asked as Erin leaned over for him to take her.
He tossed her gently in the air and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, Unca Wuke. Unca Bake an me feed horsey,” Erin said, hugging Luke around the neck.
“I already fed ol’ Samson, so why don’t you two come to the house. Have you eaten, Blake?” Luke asked, tickling Erin as they walked toward the kitchen door.
Both men smiled at the little girl’s giggles as she tried to wiggle away from Luke’s fingers.
The Christmas Token Page 6