The Christmas Bargain

by Shanna Hatfield

  “No, you couldn’t, but what are you going to do with her?” Chauncy asked, studying his friend and former cohort in all sorts of boyish crimes. “You can’t leave her here indefinitely and you certainly can’t take her home with you. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “I could move her into the hotel,” Luke said, thinking about his options. “I could get her a room at the boarding house. She could have the entire second floor of my monstrous house to herself.”

  “You know tongues will wag. They’ll be flapping as it is that she is finally off the farm. You don’t want to make things worse for her, do you?” Chauncy had tried many times to convince Alford to change his ways, to let Philamena leave the farm. His suggestions fell on deaf ears. He knew the minister from the Presbyterian Church tried to talk to Alford as well.

  Now that Philamena was off the farm, he intended to make sure she wouldn’t have to go back. From what he knew, she would make someone a good, dutiful wife. And that someone would be Luke. Chauncy couldn’t explain how he knew this with such certainty, but he did.

  Luke raked his hands through his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees. Letting out his breath, he turned and stared into the dancing flames in the hearth. “You might as well tell me what you think I should do, instead of waiting for me to get around to your way of thinking.”

  Chauncy grabbed his chest and feigned a look of pain. “You wound me, Luke. When have I ever tried to talk you into anything?”

  “Nearly every time I see you,” Luke said, a small smile finally cracking his full lips. “I wouldn’t have made nearly so many trips to the woodshed as a kid if it wasn’t for your suggested ideas.”

  “We did have a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

  “That’s beside the point,” Luke said, leaning back and turning his icy blue gaze on his long-time friend. “Let’s hear it. What do you think I should do?”

  “Marry her.”

  Luke bolted upright in the chair and glared at Chauncy like he’d grown a second head. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly. Would you mind repeating that?”

  Chauncy grinned and leaned forward. “I said you should marry her. You’ve avoided matrimony long enough. You’re pushing thirty and it is long past time for you to settle down. After all, the town banker should have a wife and a family.”

  “No,” Luke grunted, annoyed at his friend. Chauncy knew the last thing he wanted was to be tied down to a woman and family. Luke’s father was a perfect example of what happened to a good man when a woman got under his skin.

  Never content with their life back East, his father insisted on moving West. They settled into the town of Hardman when Luke and his sister were both very young. His father established the bank and built his mother the huge Victorian house at the edge of town everyone called the Granger House.

  It wasn’t good enough.

  His mother hated every day she spent in Hardman and finally talked his dad into moving back to New York, where the Granger family lived, before Luke’s sister graduated from Hardman’s school. All too glad to escape the “wilderness,” as she called it, his mother declared she’d never again set foot in Hardman.

  Although his father preferred the wide open spaces of Hardman, he’d do anything for Dora, his wife of thirty-three years.

  Luke loved the rugged landscape and the community of Hardman. After he finished up his courses at the snooty school his mother insisted he attend in the East, he returned home, took over the bank from his father and moved into the hulking house. Now, eight years later, he owned the bank and the house, having purchased both from his parents.

  The house sat on a five acre lot with a huge barn and carriage house, as well as numerous outbuildings. With six bedrooms, indoor plumbing, gas lights, and every modern convenience available, most people thought the Grangers were a bit extravagant when they built the house.

  Luke would have to agree. He hated rattling around in the big empty place and had closed off all but a couple of rooms. Between the bank and his livestock, he tried to spend as little time inside as possible.

  If he brought a woman home, that would all change. Luke didn’t need a wife to complicate matters. He liked his life exactly the way it was.

  Sitting back against the chair, Luke stretched out his long legs and studied Chauncy, who had fought against married bliss nearly as well as Luke. Right up until Miss Abigail Sommers moved to town and opened a dress shop down the street from the mercantile.

  Chauncy was a goner the first Sunday she sat in the congregation and turned her big brown eyes his direction. Now, three years later, Chauncy and Abby were about to embark on the adventure of parenthood.

  “You need to come up with a better plan,” Luke said, steepling his tapered, callused fingers in front of him. “What else have you got?”

  “Nothing,” Chauncy said, still grinning. “You better take this payment and make the best of it. You might find out it’s a blessing in disguise.”

  “You’ve got the disguised part right. Between that ugly dress and the rag on her hair, she could be covered in warts with not a tooth in her head,” Luke said, shivering at the vision his words conjured.

  Chauncy laughed. “Oh, you might be surprised, my friend.”

  Luke gave him a doubtful look. Chauncy sat forward and slapped Luke’s leg.

  “Come on, Luke,” he said, trying to sound encouraging. “Think this through. You don’t want a wife. I seriously doubt she wants a husband, but she can cook and clean. She can make your home warm and welcoming and not quite so lonely in the evening. You, in turn, give her a comfortable, safe place to live and some sense of security. Seems like an ideal partnership to me. Just look at it as a business deal, a Christmas bargain. She is supposed to be payment for a loan. If you hired a full-time housekeeper and cook, like my lovely wife has been after you to do for more than two years, think about the wages you would pay for that position. I know you have Mrs. Kellogg do your laundry and dust, but you really do need someone to care for your home. Give this a try until Christmas. If you both despise the arrangement at the end of that time period, you could always have the marriage annulled.”

  “Well, it doesn’t sound quite so crazy when you put it that way,” Luke said, thinking about how nice it would be to go home to a hot meal instead of eating at the restaurant, mooching dinner from Chauncy and Abby, or making do with what he could rustle up. “But what makes you think she’ll be willing to go along with it?”

  “Gratitude.”

  “Gratitude?”

  “Wouldn’t you be grateful and feel indebted to the person who saved you from Alford Booth?”

  “Possibly,” Luke said, giving the idea of marriage consideration. “But those rags have got to go. Can Abby set her up with some new clothes? I’ll pay for everything, of course.”

  “Of course,” Chauncy said, trying to hide his grin. Talking Luke into getting married didn’t take nearly as long as he anticipated. “Tell you what, today is Monday so why don’t we plan the wedding for Saturday afternoon. Miss Booth can stay here this week and you two can get used to the idea of being married. By Saturday, if I know Abby, she’ll have a new wardrobe ready for your bride-to-be and then you can move her in. It will look like a real courtship and should keep the gossips in town from having too much fodder.”

  Luke nodded his head. “That’s a sound plan.”

  Standing up, Luke extended his hand to Chauncy and gave it a friendly shake before the two of them walked to the kitchen where Abby chattered away while Philamena quietly helped dry the dinner dishes.

  “Miss Booth,” Luke said, trying to get her attention. She turned his way, but never raised her eyes up where he could see them. He wasn’t sure he could spend the next fifty years with someone boring holes into his chest because they couldn’t make eye contact. “I’m heading home but you’ll stay here until Saturday. Pastor Dodd will marry us then and you’ll come to my house at that time. Is that acceptable to you?”

  His only answer was a brie
f nod of her head.

  Abby, on the other hand, squealed with delight and gave him a big hug, or as big as she could around her protruding tummy.

  “Oh, Luke, that is wonderful news!”Abby said as she squeezed his arm. If she hadn’t been expecting, Luke knew she’d be flitting around the room in excitement. “We’ll have a nice little ceremony in the church, won’t we Chauncy?”

  “Absolutely,” her husband chimed in, sending her a wink.

  “Would you help Miss Booth with her clothes, Abby? She’s going to need some warmer things for the winter and she might like a wedding dress,” Luke said, picking his coat off the kitchen chair where Philamena had draped it earlier. Sliding it on, he buttoned the front and pulled warm gloves out of the pockets. A faint floral scent tickled his nose where it lingered around the collar of his coat and the welcome aroma annoyed him.

  That is how it would begin. First an enticing smell, then a coy look, followed by a soft word, and he’d be putty in the woman’s long, beautiful hands. Luke couldn’t help but notice Philamena’s attractive hands, work-roughened as they were, as she stood nervously wringing them together.

  He would have to proceed with caution to keep from getting his heart entangled in this ridiculous bargain that was, from what Luke could see, only going to cost him more money.

  Turning toward his soon-to-be-bride, Luke tried to give her a once over but couldn’t get past the hideous dress and equally ugly cloth covering her head. “Would you like a wedding dress, Miss Booth?”

  “That would be nice,” she said quietly, studying the floor. “But I don’t want to be any more in debt to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Luke said, leaning over and kissing Abby on the cheek. “Thanks, Abby. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Chauncy walked him to the door and waved as Luke mounted Drake and headed the horse toward the other end of town.

  Whistling, Chauncy stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked back to the front room to sit by the fire and gloat. He knew Luke and Philamena being together was right. He didn’t know what the future held for those two, but he was looking forward to finding out.

  Chapter Two

  Philamena slowly pulled herself from her dreams, stretching lazily in bed as she enjoyed the feel of the fluffy mattress beneath her and the soft sheets and blankets around her. A vision of Luke Granger flew into her head and his unique scent filled her senses.

  She thought for a moment her dreams must be getting more vivid and realistic until she remembered she was in the guest room at the parsonage.

  Exhaling a deep, satisfied breath, she let herself rest against the comfortable bedding for a few minutes before beginning her day. Popping open her eyes, she looked around the room. The pine floor boasted several rugs while the white walls made the room look large and clean. A set of ruffled curtains at the window showed daylight starting to peek around the shade.

  Feeling guilty for sleeping in, Philamena jumped from the bed and settled her feet on a soft blue rug. Reaching for the water pitcher Pastor Dodd placed in the room for her last night, she splashed her face in the cold water and toweled dry. Yanking her threadbare nightgown over her head, she slipped on her one spare set of undergarments, biting back a sigh.

  When she was a girl, her mother made her lovely clothes to wear. She remembered sitting together and making the tiny, perfect stitches on the deep flounced hem of an emerald green dress. Although the dress had long ago fallen to rags, Philamena remembered the rich color and dreamed of once again owning something pretty.

  Dragging the hated dirt-colored dress over her head, she buttoned the bodice and adjusted the skirt. Combing her hair back into the severe bun her father insisted she wear, Philamena felt a little rebellious in leaving off the handkerchief. Fastening her worn-out shoes, she opened the door and walked to the kitchen where she could smell coffee brewing.

  Quietly stepping into the room, she took in Abby at the stove frying ham while Chauncy sat with his Bible open on the table, sipping a cup of coffee. Looking up, he smiled and motioned her to come into the room. “Good morning, Miss Booth. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Philamena said quietly, not making eye contact with the pastor and wondering what she could do to help with breakfast.

  Abby turned from the stove and waved a fork in Philamena’s direction. “Just help yourself to a cup of coffee and have a seat. Breakfast will be ready in a minute and then we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

  Philamena poured a cup of coffee, inhaling the rich aroma. “I apologize for sleeping late. It won’t happen again.”

  Abby looked at Chauncy who gave a slight nod of his head her direction. Abby smiled warmly at their guest. “That’s perfectly fine, Philamena. You had a rather surprising day yesterday and needed your sleep. In fact, we don’t mind if you sleep the day away. So don’t you worry, okay?”

  Philamena couldn’t speak through her tears, so she nodded her head. These people were so good and charitable. They had no idea what kind of person she was, yet they opened their home to her and were doing their best to make her feel welcome. She felt more secure and safe here than she had since her mother passed away.

  Clearing his throat, Chauncy took another sip of coffee while Abby set platters of ham, eggs and biscuits on the table. She made enough food to feed twice as many as were seated around the table. Just when Philamena wondered what they would do with all the extra food, the back door opened and Luke stepped inside.

  “Morning,” he said, removing his hat and hanging it on a peg by the door before kissing Abby on the cheek and washing his hands.

  “Well, Luke, what a surprise to have you join us,” Abby teased, pouring coffee into a cup at the table. Luke found his way to the parsonage table several times a week. He made up for it by often sending boxes of supplies from the general store. He also provided them with beef and pork.

  Somehow missing the fact the table was set for four instead of just three, Philamena felt a nervous fluttering erupt in her stomach at the sight of her betrothed.

  After the women were seated, Luke settled into his chair like having breakfast at the parsonage was a regular event. From the looks of how the Dodds and Luke interacted, Philamena assumed it must be.

  “Miss Booth,” Luke said, looking at her intently. Philamena wondered if this was what a horse on the auction block must feel like as Luke studied her from the tip of her head right down to where her dress disappeared behind the table. “I trust you had a pleasant night.”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Philamena whispered, keeping her eyes fastened on her plate.

  Luke looked at Chauncy who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Shall we give thanks for this new day?” Chauncy asked, extending a hand to both Philamena and Luke, who sat on either side of him. Philamena forced herself to take the pastor’s hand then extended her other hand to Abby, who grasped Luke’s free hand.

  Chauncy gave thanks and asked for a special blessing on Philamena, making tears pool in her eyes again. Unable to fathom why these people seemed to care about her, she knew she was nothing to them except an inconvenience.

  As Abby passed her a plate of hot biscuits, Philamena took one and broke it open. Steam puffed up in the early morning air and Philamena’s mouth watered. She carefully buttered it then took a small bite. It was delicious – airy and warm with rich butter melting into every little crevice. She closed her eyes to savor the experience.

  Luke sat watching her, surprised by her obvious pleasure in something as simple as a hot biscuit. How deprived had her life been with Alford? Luke wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know.

  Despite his better judgment, Luke found himself caring about Philamena. He spent most of the night awake wondering about how her father had treated her and what he could do to make her life a little easier. Sure, he planned to have her cook and clean, but he would treat her kindly, respectfully, and honorably. Even if she would be a wife in name only, he would handle her with ca
re.

  He had no delusion that he would fall in love with her. She was plain, malnourished and quite clearly frightened of men. That was fine with Luke. He had no intention of ever falling in love and most certainly no plans of marrying because he was besotted with some woman who would eventually make his life miserable.

  Gazing at the Booth girl across the table, he was glad to see she left the rag off her head. Her hair was peeled back into such a tight bun, she might as well have been bald. Despite the unbecoming style, some part of Luke was grateful to see her hair was a beautiful shade of mahogany. It reminded him of the curving mahogany staircase at his home. Picturing Philamena’s hair down and gleaming in the firelight, Luke would have bet his best pair of boots it would spark with gold and red highlights.

  Suddenly his hands itched to pull out the pins from her hair and see what it looked like down. Yanking those notions to an abrupt halt, he was annoyed he let his thoughts wander so far off course. Turning his attention back to his breakfast, Luke carried on a conversation with Chauncy about the bank, the church, some of the neighbors, and the weather.

  Abby encouraged Philamena to help herself to more than the meager serving on her plate. She finally accepted a second biscuit and another helping of eggs.

  Finishing his breakfast, Chauncy and Luke walked out together, leaving Abby and Philamena alone in the cozy kitchen.

  “Once we wash the dishes and start lunch, we can head over to my shop and see about getting you a new wardrobe,” Abby said, hefting herself to her feet.

  “Please, Mrs. Dodd, sit while I do the dishes. It’s the least I can do,” Philamena said, springing into action. Before Abby could protest, Philamena had soap shaved into the dishpan and the dishes soaking.

  “If you insist, but only because I feel like I’ve got a barrel strapped to my waist and clubs for feet,” Abby said with a chuckle. “And you must call me Abby.”

  “Thank you…Abby,” Philamena said, offering the barest hint of a smile. She looked up and made eye contact with Abby, who gave her a huge grin.