Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1

by Misty M. Beller

  “Oh, these dresses are not very practical.” She waved the scissors casually over the mass of lace and ruffles. “I only have the one wool dress I can really work in. The rest of these require bustles and extra tight corsets, and the trains are impossible to move around in. I’m going to break my other leg if I don’t do something about it.” She kept her tone light and teasing.

  Miriam still fingered the cut fabric as if it was a dearly departed friend. “But they were beautiful.”

  And compared to Miriam’s dingy brown garb, they were. Miriam’s dress was not just an old style, it had no style. The high neck and straight bodice did nothing to enhance any curves. The skirt flared a little more than the bodice, but didn’t gather in the back or have room underneath for more than a petticoat or two, certainly not a crinoline or bustle. The dress had obviously been made for function only.

  Seeing the mound of ruffles in Miriam’s hand gave Leah an idea. “Miriam, go get the grey dress you wore yesterday.”

  “What?”

  “Quick, I have a wonderful idea. Is it clean?”

  Nodding, Miriam moved toward her room. Leah finished cutting the ruffle from the lavender train, then snipped the layers that would have rested on the bustle. She’d need to do some hemming, but then her gown would look fine and be so much easier to work in.

  “Here you go.” Miriam laid the drab grey gown on the bed next to Leah.

  “See here. If we start the ruffle at the top of the skirt in the back, then cross it down to the bottom around the front, then back up in the rear. It’ll add fullness in the back like the current styles, and give some length to the bottom.”

  “Wow…” Miriam breathed.

  Leah continued, “Then we can add some tucks to the bodice, maybe put a piece of this lace at the neckline to make it all blend.” Leah held up the dress and lace in an attempt to illustrate her designs. “It’ll be lovely.”

  Miriam bounced on her tip-toes and squealed like a young child on Christmas morning. “Do you mean it? Really?”

  It was impossible not to grin at such a picture. “Of course. You’ll look amazing.” Leah barely had time to brace herself before Miriam tackled her in a hug.

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you.”

  Leah returned the embrace, then laughed as she extracted herself. “No need to thank me. Do you want to help with the stitching or are you too busy in the garden?”

  Miriam plopped down with a bounce on the bed. “I’ve picked everything that was ready, so I can help until it’s time to make lunch.” She jumped up again like a cricket. “I’ll get my sewing things.”

  While they worked, Leah offered suggestions for Miriam’s gown and continued to remove the extra trim and yardage from her own. She’d start with these three, and alter some of her other dresses later if she needed them.

  “There.” Miriam held up the dress, displaying a finished skirt.

  “Wow, it’s amazing how the ruffle brings it to life.”

  “Ooh, I can’t wait to try it on.” Miriam clutched the gown to her bosom.

  Leah felt a smile spill out at the joy on her friend’s face. “Finish the bodice first, though.”

  Miriam giggled in response.

  Just then a shadow fell across the light from the open doorway, pulling the lighthearted mood from the room. There stood Gideon, his face shadowed so Leah couldn’t make out his features. His broad shoulders were strong and straight as he removed his hat and turned to hang it on the hook.

  When he moved out of the doorway, Leah could see the tightness of his profile—the part not covered by the mountain man beard, that is.

  “Oops.” Miriam jumped up and scooted toward the kitchen. “Sorry, big brother. Lunch’ll be ready in two minutes. We were sewing, and I lost track of time.”

  Drifter padded to the bed and whined, eager for his usual greeting. She reached down to scratch behind his ear and under his chin, only removing her eyes from Gideon for a quick glance at the animal. His long tongue caught her wrist in appreciation.

  Gideon didn’t respond, only sank into his chair and crossed his arms, his face stoic. Of course, was that any different from his normal expression? Still, something felt different about his demeanor now.

  Miriam didn’t seem to notice, and kept on chattering. “You should see what we’ve done to my dress, brother. It’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. And it was all Leah’s idea. She gave me the material, too. Cut it off of her own dress.”

  As Miriam chirped out those last few comments, Gideon turned to examine the heap of fabric on the bed. Then he raised his gaze to Leah. She didn’t drop her eyes or pretend she wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she met his piercing gaze head on.

  Was he angry? It was hard to tell from this distance. Was he just upset about the lunch? Or was it a bigger issue. Maybe he didn’t want Miriam to have anything more than practical dresses. Could that be because of his experience with bringing his wife from the city to this wild country?

  Leah tried to hide the apprehension that rose at the intensity of his stare. She offered the hint of a smile, trying to show him it was fine. She waited, holding his gaze, her heart wondering what he would do next. And then he did the last thing she expected. His eyes softened into a gentle smile.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leah braced her weight against the work counter as she draped the thin strip of crust over the rich burgundy of the blackberry pie filling. Despite the ache when she put weight on her leg, over the past few weeks she’d learned how to move around without too much pain. It was easiest in the kitchen, where she could lean against the counter while she worked.

  And who would have thought she would enjoy cooking and baking so much? Miriam always made it seem like a chore, but Leah was learning to look at it more as an art form. Especially the baking part. Now that she was beginning to understand what each ingredient added to the outcome of the dish, it was fun to experiment with flavors and textures. And since they were right in the middle of berry season, Miriam was always bringing in a basket of raspberries or blackberries or currants from the valley. Leah couldn’t wait for the day when she could be the one out riding through the mountains, picking berries and helping with the animals. Patience, though.

  She shot a quick prayer heavenward for continued healing. Father, thank You for Gideon’s skill when he splinted my leg. And thank You for mending the bones.

  While in this prayerful attitude, Leah’s mind drifted to her new friend. Lord, I pray You’ll guide Miriam in Your path for her life. I think she feels trapped here on the mountain, with almost no interaction with other people. Help her know You haven’t forgotten her. Help her trust that You have the best plan in the right timing.

  And then there was Gideon. Leah’s heart ached for the man, strong and attractive, yet obviously hurting underneath his mountain man façade. Lord, please soften his heart. Help him to heal and forgive. She wasn’t sure who he needed to forgive most, God or himself. But God knew.

  Her prayer was interrupted by a clatter of steps on the porch. Miriam’s blonde curls popped through the doorway and she began chattering almost immediately.

  “I got a whole basket full of red currants on my way back from taking lunch to Gideon. See how big these are? We should get a bunch of jars if we make jam from these. How’s everything coming for dinner?”

  Leah felt a smile come on as the younger woman finally stopped for breath. “The last two loaves of bread just came out of the oven and this pie is ready to go in now. The potatoes are peeled, so there’s nothing left to be done until later.”

  “Good. I suppose we should start on this jam then.” Miriam’s face pulled into a grimace. “I hate to spend the afternoon in this hot kitchen when it’s so glorious outside.”

  Leah felt a bit of sympathy for the young woman. “If you tell me what to do, I’ll make the jam. You can take the afternoon off. Get one of my books and find a cozy spot outside.”

  Miriam nibbled her lower lip, but then finally sighed
. “No, jam is too hard to just tell you what to do. I’ll have to show you the first time.”

  And so, they set to work. Leah watched carefully every step of the way so she would be able to do the job herself next time. She truly felt bad for Miriam, like she was caging a wild bird who just wanted to fly about and sing, making the world a lovelier place.

  “You know what I always imagine when I’m stuck in the kitchen?” Miriam said as she poured sugar into the pot with the currants. She didn’t wait for Leah to answer. “I imagine I’m a grand lady in a New York mansion. I sit in my summer room all morning and sip tea and eat biscuits smothered with currant jam, while talking with friends about all the latest fashions.” She sighed wistfully. “What a wonderful life.”

  Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at such naiveté. “Well, your imaginings could be technically correct from a glance, but it’s really not as wonderful as you make it sound.”

  Miriam blinked at her, coming out of the stupor. “I forget sometimes you used to live like that. You seem so normal.”

  Leah ignored that comment as she stepped forward to stir the currant and sugar mixture, but it brought her secret pleasure. She really wanted to be normal and hardworking and helpful. That old life of idle uselessness was behind her for good.

  “It might sound fun to be a lady of leisure, but it’s not really what it seems. Instead of being allowed to do nothing, it was more like I wasn’t allowed to do anything. I could only read from a select group of books, draw, play piano, or do needlework, but that was about it. I couldn’t go anywhere by myself, always had to maintain my poise, couldn’t walk faster than an elegant stroll, and I’ve never, ever ridden a horse astride. That life was so confining.”

  Leah stared down into the bubbling red jelly, her mind drifting to another place and time. “When I was little, I used to sneak down to the kitchen in the afternoons. Cook would let me help her pour ingredients, or mix batter, or roll out crusts. I loved feeling useful.”

  She was drawn from her memories by a gasp from behind.

  “Speaking of pie, I think we’d better check yours,” Miriam said.

  Leah turned, dragging her bad leg, to watch Miriam open the oven door and pull out the golden-crusted pie. The burgundy-black filling bubbled, sending a sweet aroma through the kitchen.

  “Perfect.” Miriam held the steaming concoction up for Leah to examine. “Gideon would be none too happy if we burned his favorite dessert.” She winked at Leah before placing the pie on an empty shelf.

  Turning back to look in the pot Leah was stirring, Miriam watched the gooey bubbles for a moment. “So tell me more about your life. Were you friends with the mayor’s wife and special people like that?”

  “Well…I did attend many of the same dinner parties as the mayor’s family, but I’m not sure I would say any of those ladies were friends. We were all trained to be so proper and poised, never saying what we actually thought. And most of them were so snooty they wouldn’t step out in the rain, even with an umbrella.”

  Miriam’s eyes took on innocent confusion. “Surely you must have had friends. Weren’t there girls your own age?”

  Leah nodded. “I would consider those girls acquaintances, really. My dearest friend was my companion, Emily Alders. She was several years older than me, but one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” Leah gave Miriam an appraising look. “You would have loved her.”

  Memories of Emily brought a familiar sting to the back of Leah’s throat. Time to change the topic. “Is the jelly supposed to have foam on the top like this?”

  Miriam peered into the pot. “Yep, that’s normal. We just need to scrape it off. And it looks to be ready to pour into jars now. Can you do that while I start the beef for dinner?”

  “Of course.”

  As she ladled jam from the pot into jars, Leah watched out of the corner of her eye as Miriam extracted a hunk of beef from the barrel in the corner. She placed the meat in the other pot and added enough water to cover, before moving it onto the hot part of the stove.

  Leah cringed at the sight. Surely there was a different way to cook meat that wouldn’t make it so tough it would wear longer than the leather soles of her boots.

  Her mind filtered back to those afternoons spent in the Townsend kitchen. What had Cook done with meat? She remembered seeing the maids pounding the stuff with an iron mallet, but what would that do? Shape the meat? She didn’t remember seeing any beef dishes with unusual shapes. Maybe it helped to tenderize things. It was worth a try, right?

  “Miriam, I remember our cook in Richmond use to pound on the meat with a mallet after it was parboiled but before it was fried. Would it be all right if we try that?”

  Miriam raised her brows, but shrugged. “Fine with me, but I don’t have a mallet in here. I could go see if I can find something in Gideon’s tools.”

  Leah looked around the room. “What if we try a frying pan instead?”

  By the time they’d pounded and fried the meat, boiled and mashed the potatoes, mixed gravy in the frying pan, and arranged all the food on the table, Leah was exhausted. But she was more than a bit anxious to see if their experiment would yield any benefit in the texture of the beef.

  Miriam must have noticed Leah’s fatigue, for she finally pointed to Leah’s chair. “Sit.”

  It came across as an ultimatum, so Leah obliged, sinking into the chair with painful deliberation.

  Gideon came in not long after and took his normal place at the table, only nodding in response to greetings from both women. Leah’s chair was across from him, and she reached out a hand to offer Drifter her normal greeting.

  After Gideon said a simple blessing over the food, then loaded his plate, Leah tamped down her apprehension as he began to eat. She casually moved the food around on her own plate, trying not to appear obvious she was watching Gideon for a reaction on the food.

  After half the meat on his plate was gone, she finally received the hoped-for response. He raised his head to look at his baby sister.

  “Meat’s good, squirt.”

  Miriam dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Why thank you, big brother. Leah actually taught me a new technique. Makes the meat tender, don’t ya think?”

  Gideon’s glance flickered to Leah, then back down to his plate as he nodded. “Seems so.”

  And apparently that’s all he was going to say, for his fork dove back into the beef, using it to sop up mashed potatoes and gravy.

  Something about this man both frustrated and drew her. Why was he so reserved? Why couldn’t he open up and talk to them like any other person? It wasn’t as if either of them were strangers anymore. Maybe she should try an experiment.

  Clearing her throat, she began, “So, Gideon. How were the animals today?”

  “Fine.” He didn’t even look up, just loaded potatoes and gravy on a slice of bread.

  “Have there been any new calves born in the last few weeks?”

  “Two.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet they’re precious. All the babies and mamas are healthy?”

  “Yep.”

  Leah wanted to shake the man, but kept her poise instead. Perhaps all of Emily’s training had been for this moment.

  She needed to make sure she phrased her questions so a one-word answer wouldn’t suffice. Horses were his favorites, so maybe that subject would get him talking.

  “So what are you working on with Trojan these days?”

  Gideon stopped chewing and his head came up. She couldn’t quite read the expression in his eyes, but it was guarded.

  “Leading.”

  This man was impossible.

  She kept her voice pleasant. “Walking on the lead line? Is he learning quickly?”

  “Some. He’s a stubborn little guy, though.”

  At last. More than one word. Leah tried not to let the victory show on her face, but her heartbeat raced with delight. “Yes, I would imagine most little boys are stubborn, even the four-legged variety, but his eyes had an intelligent look.”<
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  The shield in Gideon’s eyes lowered for a split second and she caught a sparkle before he replaced it. His only response was “Yep” as he reached to spoon a second helping of beef onto his plate.

  Leah relished the warmth in her chest throughout the remainder of the meal. To top it all off, Gideon pushed his empty dessert plate toward Miriam saying, “Pie was good. Prob’ly the best I’ve tasted.”

  Miriam’s face took on a coy expression as she rose and scooped more of the sweet stuff from the pan on the back of the stove. “It was wonderful, wasn’t it? Leah made the pie.”

  Leah missed Gideon’s reply because she kept her face focused on the berries in her own plate. The best blackberry pie he’d tasted? Heat crawled up her neck and across her cheeks.

  It took her a few minutes to regain composure, but Gideon’s comment to Miriam that he was headed to the barn brought Leah’s attention back into sharp focus.

  “Gideon,” she called as she stood and reached for her crutches. He was already putting on his hat, but turned to face her. “Do you think I could follow along and learn how to milk the cow? Now that I can move around more, I’d like to help out with more of the barn chores.” His stance was reluctant, so she pulled her trump card. “I know it would take some load off Miriam in the mornings.”

  He hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting down to her splinted leg. Finally, he acceded reluctantly. “As long as you do what you’re told.”

  She let a grin split her face. “Agreed.”

  Gideon was patient as she hobbled across the uneven ground toward the barn. He ambled along beside her, picking at the stem of a weed, and acting as if it always took him five minutes to walk from one building to another.

  Drifter, on the other hand, dashed off toward their destination. When he’d almost reached the barn, he stopped and looked back as if to say, “What’s taking you so long?” He trotted back to them and began weaving back and forth behind them, making sure they made steady forward progress.

  Leah smiled. “I’ll bet he’s good at keeping the cows in line.”