“I’m just about finished,” she said, expertly flipping a pancake.
“You only put down one place setting, Philamena. As long as you are my wife, I want you to join me for my meals. It’s no fun to eat alone,” Luke said, placing another plate and silverware at the table.
A slight nod acknowledged she heard him as Philamena continued cooking breakfast.
While her back was to him, Luke took a moment to study her rich hair piled on her head in a jumble of curls, her long, slender neck, and her trim waist. She was wearing a dark green wool skirt and a plain white blouse, covered by a voluminous white apron. He enjoyed watching her skirts swish as she moved and tried to rein in his thoughts before they wandered too far in a direction they didn’t need to go. Yet.
“This is about the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had,” Luke said, taking another sip, staring at her over his cup.
Philamena answered by blushing and nodding her head. He wondered how many times a day he would make her blush until she got used to being around him.
With her cheeks hot from both the stove and Luke’s presence, Philamena wondered how long it would take her to get used to being around her handsome husband. Freshly shaven, his tan cheeks were taut and smooth. He smelled so… manly and wonderful. It was all she could do to keep from burning the pancakes. When he turned those icy blue eyes on her, she thought her knees would refuse to hold her. She had to get over this infatuation with Luke and focus on her responsibilities to him which was cooking and keeping order in his home.
If only he didn’t look and smell so appealing.
Placing a platter of pancakes and another of bacon on the table, Philamena was shocked when Luke pulled out her chair for her and waited for her to be seated before sitting down across from her. Offering thanks for their meal, Philamena got lost in the deep timbre of his voice and forgot to pay attention to what he was saying. Giving herself a mental shake, she knew she needed to keep better control of her thoughts.
“Thank you for making this nice breakfast, Philamena,” Luke said, cutting into his third light-as-a-feather pancake and munching on the crisp bacon.
“My pleasure,” she said, without lifting her eyes from her plate. “It’s what I’m here for. Right?”
“Right.”
They continued eating in silence until Philamena finally spoke up, “What time do we leave for church. Chauncy didn’t mention what time the service started.”
“We’ll leave just before ten. Sometimes I go over early and help Chauncy warm up the church, but today isn’t my turn.”
“Okay,” Philamena said, clearing the table and setting the plates to soak in a pan of warm water. Swallowing twice, she worked up the courage to look Luke in the face.“Luke, may I ask you a few questions?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?” Luke said, leaning back in his chair, wondering what was going through Philamena’s head.
“How does your house stay so warm?” Philamena asked, feeling like an uneducated idiot. She would have remained quiet, but curiosity was getting the best of her.
“Radiators are heated from a huge boiler in the basement that runs on coal. I check the boiler twice a day, so you shouldn’t need to concern yourself with it. If you hear a big banging noise coming from the basement, it’s a delivery of coal going down the chute.”
“Oh,” was all she managed to say.
“What else? You said questions,” Luke said as he got up from the table, picked up a dish towel and started drying dishes as Philamena washed them. Realizing he should let her do all the work since she was paying off her father’s debt, Luke felt some unexplainable need to help her.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, feeling foolish, blushing again.
“Please, Philamena. If you have questions, ask them. I’m sure a lot of the things here in the house are different than what you are used to,” Luke said with surprising insight.
“How does the ice box work?” Philamena stopped scrubbing the skillet in her hand and looked at him with her green eyes bright and interested.
“It’s quite an invention, isn’t it?” Luke asked. At Philamena’s nod, he continued. “A block of ice sits in the top and the cold circulates down, keeping the contents chilled. I try to bring in new ice daily, but if I forget, you’ll find the ice house out back next to the smokehouse. There is a drip pan beneath it that needs emptied every day or so.”
Luke showed her where to put the ice and how to empty the drip pan. “Simple enough,” he said.
“Yes, it is.” Philamena said, fascinated that she could keep milk, eggs and any number of things chilled right inside the house.
A top student in school with a keen mind, Philamena felt like the last decade had been lost to her in so many ways, but one she felt acutely was her education. Her father rarely brought home newspapers or magazines, so she felt completely out of touch with what was going on in the world.
Finishing the dishes, Philamena wiped down the counters and table while Luke leaned against the counter, sipping another cup of coffee, laced heavily with sugar.
“Any other questions?” he asked, trying not to smile. He was delighted by Philamena’s inquiries. He thought it showed her intelligence and eagerness to learn about her surroundings.
“Just one, for now,” Philamena said, with a rare grin on her face. Walking to a door at the end of the kitchen, she opened it and waved her hand toward the inside.
“What do these do?” she asked, pointing to two large machines.
Luke laughed as he walked to the door and stuck his head inside the washroom. “Those are going to make your life so much easier, you won’t even believe it.”
Taking Philamena’s hand, Luke felt a jolt race through him clear to his toes as he led her to one of the identical machines.
“These are washing machines. You fill this tub part with water and soap. When you crank this handle it agitates the clothes and gets them clean. You drain that out and fill it with clean water to rinse. When you’ve got the soap out, you thread the clothes through this ringer, here, to squeeze out the water then you hang them up to dry. The water is piped in, so you turn this knob,” Luke said, showing Philamena the control for the water, “to fill the tub. To drain it, you turn this knob down here on the tub. If you have any questions on how it works, ask Mrs. Kellogg. She usually does my laundry on Wednesdays when she comes.”
Philamena nodded her head, absorbed in the wonder of a washing machine. She could hardly wait to try it just to see how it worked.
Stepping back out of the washroom and into the kitchen, Luke finished his coffee then pulled a watch from his trouser pocket. “We’ve got plenty of time before we need to leave, would you like a tour of the upstairs?”
“That would be nice,” Philamena said, following Luke down the hall. He showed her through each of the upstairs bedrooms. Philamena counted four in all with one bathroom in the middle of the hall.
The last bedroom, Luke said, was the master bedroom. It was a massive room with rich, cherry wood furniture that gleamed in the morning light. Soft shades of green and cream completed the room’s décor. The high windows were covered in thick cream lace with green velvet drapes pulled back to let in the sunlight. A huge closet and another bathroom completed the spacious room. Philamena thought it was the loveliest room she had ever seen.
Never, in even her wildest dreams, had she imagined such comforts, such extravagance. And now it was to be her home. She certainly had a lot to learn before she could feel confident in managing Luke’s household.
“I’ve never seen anything so wonderful,” she said, as they stood looking outside. From the window she could see the barn, carriage house, and fenced acres beyond with several head of cattle.
Luke stood behind her, enjoying the opportunity to show her his home because she seemed to take such pleasure in its beauty. He had long ago stopped seeing it as anything other than a place he went to sleep between work and church, meetings and community obligations. Looking at it thr
ough his wife’s eyes gave him a fresh appreciation for all that he had.
Placing a warm hand on her shoulder he gave it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think of Granger House?”
Philamena found it challenging to collect her thoughts let alone form words with Luke’s warmth and manly scent filling her senses. Pulling herself together, she looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s wonderful. Are those your cows out there?”
“Yes. They probably think they’ve been completely mistreated since I haven’t been out to feed them yet. Our property line ends where you see those trees way back there up against the base of the hill. The house sits on five acres, but I also own the adjoining 250 acres. Part of it is in pasture for my cattle and horses, and I rent out the rest of the ground for farming.”
“I see,” Philamena said, turning from the window. “How many horses do you have?”
“I have my saddle horse, Drake, you met him the other day,” Luke said, smiling at her. “Then I have two carriage horses, a set of Belgians for pulling a loaded wagon, and two mares. I also keep about a dozen horses in various stages of breaking. It’s something I like to do in my spare time. Do you ride?”
“Yes,” Philamena said, glad Abby talked her into including a riding skirt in her new wardrobe.
“We could go for a ride soon, before the weather turns too cold. Would you like that?” Luke asked as they descended the stairs back to the main floor.
“I’d like it very much,” Philamena said, looking forward to both the ride and spending time outdoors with Luke.
“We’ll plan on it then,” Luke said as he bundled up to feed his animals. He was so distracted with his new bride he’d completely forgotten about feeding the livestock.
Chuckling he made his way out to the barn. It was the newness of the situation that was causing him to lose focus. That was certainly the reason for his distracted state this morning. It couldn’t have anything to do with his bride’s sparkling green eyes, warm smile, or rich gleaming hair.
<><><>
The next morning, Philamena was wandering through the main floor of the house to familiarize herself with her new home when she heard the kitchen door open followed by a cherry “hello.”
Hurrying into the kitchen, she watched a plump, grandmotherly-type woman hang up her coat and hat by the door. When she turned around, the woman’s face bore a pleased look.
“I don’t know if you remember me, dearie, but we met at your wedding. I’m Mrs. Kellogg. I attend services at the Presbyterian Church, but Luke invited me to the wedding,” the woman said, offering Philamena a warm smile.
“Yes, I do remember you,” Philamena said, recalling the pleasant face even if she didn’t connect it to the housekeeper’s name.
“Wonderful,” the housekeeper said, putting on an apron she pulled out of a small basket and tying it around her ample middle. “I generally dust and wash windows on Mondays, laundry on Wednesdays, and then give the house a good cleaning on Thursdays. Luke stopped by this morning on his way to work to let me know you’ll take care of the cooking and dishes. Whatever you need assistance with, please let me know, Mrs. Granger.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Kellogg,” Philamena said, suddenly glad Luke insisted on keeping the services of his housekeeper, since there was much to learn about keeping up a large, elaborate home. “And please call me Philamena. I’m not certain I’ll remember to answer if you call me Mrs. Granger.”
“Philamena it is,” the cheery woman said with a laugh, reaching to squeeze Philamena’s hand. Knowing from the wedding that the woman was beautiful, Eunice Kellogg decided Luke had chosen well. This girl would never put on airs or act snobbish. She was too timid and sweet for that. “Have you gotten well acquainted with the house?”
“Not at all,” Philamena admitted, ducking her head, endearing herself to the older woman.
“Let’s remedy that right now,” Mrs. Kellogg said, taking her hand and giving her a tour of the house from a woman’s perspective. By the time they finished, Philamena knew where everything concerning the proper running of the household was kept, how Luke liked his shirts pressed, and the fact that he had a remarkable sweet tooth.
“You married a good man, Philamena,” Mrs. Kellogg said as they both worked at dusting the large dining room. “The few times I’ve been sick since I’ve been in his employ, Luke either came to see me to make sure I’ve not passed on to glory, or he sends some little something from the mercantile. He’s a very generous and caring person.”
Philamena had experienced some of that generosity and caring herself, so she just nodded her head in agreement.
Finishing with the front rooms of the house, they moved on to the library then Luke’s room. Before Philamena could stop her, Mrs. Kellogg opened the guest room door and saw all of Philamena’s things.
“Not that it’s any of a bossy old woman’s business, but it doesn’t appear that you and Luke are sharing a room,” Mrs. Kellogg said, stepping out of the room and closing the door. “If I was a young pretty thing like you married to a handsome man like your husband, I sure wouldn’t be sleeping down the hall from him.”
Philamena blushed and swallowed hard. How did she explain to this kind, albeit nosy woman, that Luke had married her to settle a debt? Trying to think of a tactful way to change the subject, Philamena felt tears sting the back of her eyes.
Mrs. Kellogg sensed her discomfort and put an arm around her waist, leading her toward the kitchen. Pointing to a chair at the table, Mrs. Kellogg made them each a cup of tea while Philamena sat down and swiped at her tears.
“If you want to tell me what’s wrong, that’s fine. What you say won’t go any further than this room. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. We all have things we rather keep to ourselves than share with others, although sometimes sharing lifts our burdens just a bit.”
At the older woman’s encouraging smile, Philamena found herself telling the whole story to Mrs. Kellogg right down to her being a bargaining tool her father used to settle his debt with Luke.
“Oh, dearie, you poor thing,” Mrs. Kellogg said, wiping her own eyes as Philamena finished her story. “Don’t you worry. Luke’s a smart man and it won’t take him long to figure out he got the best end of that bargain. Not long at all.”
“What do you mean, Mrs. Kellogg?” Philamena asked, confused at the housekeeper’s words.
“What I mean is that you just keep being your sweet self and don’t worry about a thing,” Mrs. Kellogg said, a smile wreathing her face as she pictured Luke falling in love with his wife. If he was even half as intelligent as she thought he was, he’d be head over heels for the girl before Christmas. “Your husband is about to learn the value of a good wife.”
Chapter Five
Glancing out the bank window, Luke saw Philamena walk by carrying a bundle in her arms. She paused for a moment on the sidewalk in front of the bank and lifted her hand in a quick wave before continuing on toward home. He knew she couldn’t see him through the barred windows, but was pleased she would wave, in case he was watching. He’d seen Abby do that in front of the church many times and knew that was where Philamena got the idea.
When his growling stomach alerted him it was time for lunch, Luke asked Harlan, his assistant, to take care of the afternoon business and lock up at five sharp.
The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm for November. Wanting to take advantage of the nice weather, he quickly made plans for the afternoon and hoped Philamena would be agreeable to his ideas.
In the days since he wed Philamena, Luke had yet to find something she was disagreeable about. Polite, quiet, thoughtful and genteel, Luke knew her mother must have taught her well before she died.
Although he had initially expected their marriage to be only a way for her father to pay his debt, Luke found himself looking forward to spending time with his bride. She was intelligent and, much to his surprise, quite witty when she allowed herself to come out of her shell. At dinner the night before, she made a com
ment that nearly made him fall out of his chair in laughter.
Strolling home, Luke found himself whistling a tune he’d heard her humming when he came in to wash up for breakfast after feeding the livestock. Opening the front door, the smell of beef stew made his mouth water.
Hanging his Stetson hat in the hall, he removed his gloves and scarf, hung up his coat and proceeded to the kitchen. He found Philamena bent over the oven door, checking something inside. Luke leaned against the door frame, appreciating his fine view.
“Lunch smells good,” he finally said, stepping up to the sink.
Her startled gasp and the clank of the bread pan being dropped on the stove top gave away her surprise.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, picking up the pan and carrying it to a cutting board where she turned it out and buttered the top of the loaf while Luke washed his hands.
Luke shot her a devilish grin, took down two bowls and bread plates and set the table. He knew it made her uncomfortable to have him near and helping in the kitchen, which was one of the reasons he enjoyed it so.
He assumed the more time they spent together, the more acclimated she’d become to him and eventually quit being so nervous around him. Even in the short time they had been married, Luke could see real progress with his timid bride.
After a filling lunch, Luke watched as Philamena cleared the table. He poured himself a glass of milk and munched on oatmeal cookies.
“What did I see you carrying home this morning?” Luke asked as she rinsed off a plate.
“My quilt and things from the farm,” Philamena said, glad that she waved as she walked past the bank since Luke had obviously seen her go by. “I left them at the parsonage and went to get them this morning. I also wanted to check on Abby and see how she was feeling. I hope it was okay for me to do that.”
“Absolutely, Philamena,” Luke said, taking a long drink of the milk. “You can come and go as you please. I’m sure Abby appreciated the company.”
The Christmas Bargain Page 6