“A pleasant evening for sewing.” A deep voice spoke at Sarah’s elbow.
Mr. Beaumont stood on the opposite side of the porch railing, just behind her. He smiled up at her with his dark brown eyes.
“It is indeed.” She glanced behind him and saw Mr. Longley and Mr. Greenfield not far behind.
Mr. Beaumont pointed to his elbow. “Luke’s shirt is in need of fixing, right about here.” His eyes sparkled. “I’ll take Mr. Greenfield inside, and you can offer to fix it for him. Give you a chance for a moment alone.”
He turned away before Sarah could answer. The other two men approached, and Mr. Greenfield called out. “Hello, Miss Ellis.”
Mr. Longley’s blue eyes lifted to Sarah, and he smiled in greeting.
Her mind filled with the sweet memory of seeing him come outside to pray early that morning, and her heart gave an unexpected flutter.
The men stepped onto the porch, and Mr. Beaumont said to Mr. Greenfield, “I’ve been curious to see your collection of arrowheads. I’ve heard it’s impressive.”
Mr. Greenfield’s eyes lit with excitement. “I’d love to show you….” He led the way for Mr. Beaumont to follow him inside.
Mr. Longley took his hat from his head and grasped it in his hands, suddenly looking unsure if he should follow, or stay.
Sarah moved her pile of finished socks off the rocking chair next to her. “Would you like to join me for a moment?” she asked. “The early evening is just as peaceful as the predawn.”
Their eyes met, and she knew he was thinking about their morning meeting. His shoulders relaxed just a bit. “That’s quite a pile of socks.”
“I do all the sewing for the mission. I sew new clothing, but I also mend the tattered and torn.” She pulled the thread through the hole and glanced up at him. “I heard you have something that needs to be mended.”
His eyes filled with surprise, and then he seemed to know who tattled on him. “It’s just a simple hole in the elbow of my sleeve. It tore while we were canoeing downriver. It’ll be easy enough to fix.”
Sarah felt a little bashful for a moment but wasn’t sure why. She had repaired clothing for everyone at the mission, even the men. She had sewn everything from winter coats to underwear and had thought little of the intimacy of the act. But the prospect of holding Mr. Longley’s shirt in her hands, knowing it had been on his body, somehow felt different.
“I would be happy to repair it for you.”
“You don’t need to bother.”
“It wouldn’t be a bother—it would be a pleasure.”
He studied her in the dying light. “You take pleasure in sewing?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “There are a great many things I take pleasure in.”
“Like sneaking out in the early morning?”
Heat filled her cheeks, and she kept her eyes on the sock. “I don’t take pleasure in sneaking out, but I do take pleasure in my time with the Lord.”
His voice grew low. “And what other things bring you pleasure, Miss Ellis?”
“Dancing.” She looked up quickly, surprised she would admit such a thing to him. “Does that shock you?”
He laughed, his voice deep and melodious. “No, but I have a feeling it would shock the Greenfields.”
“It does. I quickly discovered it’s one of the many rules I must not break again.”
He laughed all over again, and Sarah found she liked his laughter, a great deal.
“Do you dance, Mr. Longley?”
“When I have occasion to—but not since coming west. In Boston I danced all the time.”
“I imagine you are a good dancer.” With his long legs and muscular arms, she could almost feel what it was like to dance with him.
“And I imagine the same of you.”
Warmth stole over her at his compliment. “I wish we had an occasion to dance right now—” Sarah stopped herself. Would he think her forward to say such a thing?
His voice teased. “I would ask you to dance, but I’m afraid I would get you in trouble.”
“Yes, you would.” But, oh, how she’d love to dance with him…. Maybe she should change the subject. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“And what question was that?”
“May I fix your shirt?”
“How could I deny you your pleasure?”
She smiled, even though she knew he was still teasing her. “You may leave it on the top of my sock basket in the morning, and I’ll have it back to you tomorrow evening.”
“There you are!” Mary burst out onto the porch like a sudden gust of wind across the prairie. “I’ve been looking for you, Mr. Longley.”
Mr. Longley stood, his hat still in his hands. “Hello, Miss Cooper.”
Mary’s voice rang with fun. “Why don’t we go into the parlor to sing or play a game?”
Mr. Longley turned to Sarah, expectancy in his voice. “Miss Ellis, would you care to join us?”
Sarah couldn’t sing as well as Mary, or recite as beautifully as Genevieve—and she was terrible at the games—but she couldn’t deny her desire to spend time in Mr. Longley’s presence.
“I would love to.” She rose from her chair and took her sock basket in hand.
“Come.” Mary took Mr. Longley’s arm and walked him into the bright foyer. She fluttered her eyelashes at the handsome bachelor. “I have a feeling you’re an excellent singer.”
Mr. Longley grinned at Mary and followed her to the piano in the parlor without looking back to see if Sarah trailed behind.
Chapter 7
Gray clouds covered the vast sky as Luke and Miss Cooper set out the next afternoon with a picnic basket in hand.
Miss Cooper’s voice rose like the twitter of the birds, sweet and excited. “The sky is magnificent here in Minnesota Territory, don’t you think? So much prettier than back home—but then everything seems so much prettier here.” She had not stopped talking since they left the house, and he hadn’t tried to interrupt her. Eventually she would have to take a breath.
She seemed to know where she wanted to take him, so he followed along. The basket was surprisingly heavy in his hand, but he didn’t stop to ask what she had packed inside.
When she paused for a moment, he asked, “Where did you grow up, Miss Cooper?”
“New York State, though I was at Mount Holyoke with Sarah when Mrs. Greenfield came looking for teachers.”
“And what made you decide to come all this way with her?”
Mary’s expressive eyes filled with delight. “It sounded like a grand adventure. I hadn’t even contemplated mission work before I met her, but she was very persuasive, so here I am.”
Luke studied her for a moment. He had never seen her without a smile on her face, and now was no different. “It’s a big commitment to make so quickly.”
“I felt God’s calling very strongly when Mrs. Greenfield put out her plea. I considered the idea for a night and then told God if it was His will, Mrs. Greenfield would still be available for an interview. She was, so I met with her, and she asked me to come.” She reached down and plucked a yellow daisy. “I also knew Sarah, and when I heard she was going, it sounded like a splendid time.”
Luke looked about the wild prairie. At first appearance, it was majestic and beautiful—but he knew firsthand the harsh realities of life on the frontier. He had been in the line of fire between the Chippewa and their mortal enemies, the Dakota. He had watched a fellow missionary lose his two-year-old son to a strange disease. He had witnessed atrocities he had never imagined possible—could Miss Cooper handle such realities?
“You looked as though you enjoyed the singing last night, Mr. Longley. You have a magnificent voice.”
“Thank you. I did enjoy myself last night.” All four of the ladies had been in the parlor, and he had watched them interact with one another. Miss Smith had sat off to the side, knitting needles in her hands, and didn’t participate. She just watched, though he could tell she was enjoying herself
. Miss Pinet had recited long passages of Shakespeare and the Bible. Luke had watched her with fascination. He had never met a more stunning woman. Miss Cooper had been the life of the party, with her singing and games.
But it was Miss Ellis who had surprised him the most. She blended her voice with theirs around the piano and participated good-naturedly in the games, though she didn’t win a single one. In any other setting, he probably wouldn’t have noticed her with the beautiful Miss Pinet or the vivacious Miss Cooper—but he did notice her, and that’s what surprised him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He wanted to be near her, just to hear her talk or watch her enjoy herself.
John had joined in the fun, and he had spent a great part of the evening in conversation with Miss Ellis. It surprised Luke when he felt a twinge of jealousy at their apparent ease of conversation.
“Shall we sing something now?” Miss Cooper asked, bringing Luke back to the present. Before he could answer, her lovely voice lifted from the prairie, and he found himself joining in without even thinking.
They continued on until they came to a low dip where a bed of violets grew purple and dense.
Miss Cooper spread her hands wide. “This is where we shall picnic.” She took the basket from Luke’s hands and removed a red-checked cloth from the top. “I packed all my favorite foods.”
Luke took a corner of the blanket and helped her spread it on the ground. “I’m sure whatever you selected will be perfect.”
Miss Cooper smiled, and the skin around her eyes crinkled. “I think it’s safe to say I like you, Mr. Longley. I’m so thankful you’ve come to Belle Prairie. Whatever you decide, I hope we can be friends.”
“I hope we can, too.” And he meant it.
She went to work removing each item from the basket, talking the entire time. She told him of her life in New York, of her parents, and her early school days. She told him of her time at Mount Holyoke and how much fun she’d had at the college. She had led a charmed life.
Finally, the meal was spread out, and he wasn’t left to wonder why the basket was so heavy. She had packed more than enough food. Fried chicken, potato salad, chocolate cake, boiled eggs, sliced bread, wild raspberries, cold milk, and dried-apple pie.
“I wish I could take credit for all this food.” She offered him a heaping plate. “But Hazel does most of the cooking.”
Luke said a prayer of thanksgiving and then bit into the moist chicken. It was like heaven in his mouth. “Mmm. My compliments to Miss Smith.”
Miss Cooper’s eyes lit up. “Do you like it?” She began to list all the food she missed back east.
He finally broke into her conversation. “If Miss Smith cooks, and Miss Ellis sews, what is your job?”
“I’m in charge of the dishes, morning, noon, and night.” She made a funny face.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“With over thirty people at the mission?” She shuddered. “It’s not my idea of a romantic job.”
“What is your idea of a romantic job?”
She sat up on her knees, fairly bouncing. “If I could choose a job for its romanticism, it would be a florist, or a professional singer, or maybe a writer.”
“Very different than a missionary.”
“Yes,” she said quickly, “but I do love what I’m doing here at the mission.” She waved her hand in the air. “Enough of that kind of talk.” She wrinkled her nose playfully. “I want to have fun and laugh, for I believe laughter is the very best medicine, don’t you?”
Luke only smiled and continued to watch her while he ate his meal. She barely took a bite, as her mouth was occupied with talking.
Life would never be boring with Miss Cooper as his wife. But what would happen to this joyful young woman if something truly terrible became of her? Would she be ready to face the realities of mission life head-on? He was certain he couldn’t give her the charming life she’d always known.
Chapter 8
Sarah had hoped doing the laundry would keep her mind off Mr. Longley and Mary, but she found herself looking toward the prairie far more often than necessary.
They should have returned by now.
She took another damp bedsheet from the basket near her feet and spread it on the line. The smell of lye soap filled her nose as the prairie wind sent the sheets dancing. She took a handful of clothespins from a jar and quickly secured them in place.
The children were at the river with Mrs. Greenfield and Mrs. Winter, collecting specimens for their bug collections. Nearby, the clucking of hens and the grunting of pigs filled the silence.
“Do you ever tire of doing laundry?” A deep voice startled Sarah from her musing.
Pleasure filled her chest as she stood on tiptoe and looked over the top of the sheet into a pair of warm, smiling eyes.
Mr. Longley had returned—and he had sought her out.
He took the last sheet from her basket and hung the damp material across the next line.
She grabbed another handful of clothespins and ducked under the sheet to join him.
He held the fabric in place while she secured it with the pins.
“It looks like it might storm,” he said. “Aren’t you afraid you’re doing this job for nothing?”
“If we worried about all the possible storms in life, would we ever do anything?”
His face lit with a grin. “Ah, a philosopher.”
“No, an optimist. I know how quickly the fabric dries in the prairie wind, and judging the distance of those clouds, the storm won’t hit for a few more hours. They will dry in time.”
He lowered his hand from the sheet. “I like your optimism, Miss Ellis. I wish I could share in it.”
The sheets brushed against her legs, flapping and playing in the wind. She was suddenly aware of the wet blotches on her apron and bodice, and her rebellious curls blowing against her nose and cheeks. She moved the curls out of her face.
“Are you a pessimist, Mr. Longley?”
His eyes trailed to where her curls were now secure behind her ears. “Not a pessimist, more of a realist.”
“Then you’re not a romantic?” The wind gusted and her curls slipped out of place, tickling her cheeks. She moved them off her face to secure them once again.
“Please don’t.”
She stopped her hand midswipe. “Please don’t, what?”
“Please don’t tuck your curls away again.” His gaze moved from her curls to her eyes. The look on his face sent heat into her cheeks. “Your hair is very becoming.”
Sarah slowly lowered her hand to her side, allowing the curls to frolic about her face.
“What did you ask me?” he said.
She suddenly felt silly for what she had asked, but she would have to repeat the question. “Are you a romantic?”
His smile started small, but then it grew until his eyes shined. “One would think so, given the current circumstances I find myself in. Are you a romantic, Miss Ellis?”
“I am. I love to imagine what the world could be, rather than what it often is.”
Rays of sunshine broke through the clouds at that moment, sending heat down to the prairie.
“If you’re a romantic, do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked.
It felt like a strange conversation to have with a man she had just met—yet she wanted to answer him.
“No, I don’t believe in love at first sight.”
His brows came together, and he tilted his head. “No?”
“Falling in love with someone is different than loving them. A man and woman can fall in love at first sight, and perhaps fall out of love just as quickly. But loving someone is a commitment you make, day after day, for the rest of your life.”
The wind continued to toss her curls, but she left them alone as she studied his pensive face.
“Mr. Longley.” Genevieve suddenly stood at the end of the line of sheets, clothed in an attractive pink gown. “Could I have a moment of your time?”
Mr. Longley’s fo
cus shifted to Genevieve as he tipped his hat at her. “Of course.” He looked back at Sarah. “I forgot to mention why I stopped to talk to you in the first place.”
Sarah slipped her curls behind her ears. “Why is that?”
“I was wondering if you had a chance to repair my shirt yet.”
She tried to hide the disappointment she felt. He’d only sought her out to inquire about his shirt. “I will have it ready for you before supper.”
He nodded his head at her in good-bye and then joined Genevieve.
Sarah gathered her laundry basket and walked the other way.
She found Mr. Beaumont sitting on the front porch next to her mending basket.
“Hello.” He stood and motioned to the rocker next to him. “Care to join me?”
Sarah took the seat and picked up Mr. Longley’s shirt, inspecting the tear at the elbow. It would be an easy fix, just as he’d said.
“I enjoyed myself last night,” Mr. Beaumont said. “It was fun to see Luke having such a good time. And you sang beautifully.”
She looked up at him and laughed. “You’re just trying to be nice.”
He joined in the laughter. “Maybe I am.”
They rocked in silence for a moment as she threaded a needle with white thread and set to work on Mr. Longley’s shirt.
“Miss Ellis, may I speak plainly?”
“Of course.”
“You are a delightful young lady.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“I’ve had the opportunity to speak to each of the ladies here at Belle Prairie, and I’m convinced you are the one Luke should marry.”
She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “That’s for Mr. Longley to determine.”
“That’s the problem.” He leaned against the armrest on the rocker. “I don’t think he knows his own mind. He’s so worried about following the rules, he doesn’t ever ask himself what he wants.”
“What can I do?”
Mr. Beaumont lifted a brow. “Help him break the rules—just once. Show him what he’s missing. It doesn’t have to be serious, just a little fun. He’ll realize it’s not the end of the world.”
The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons Page 29