by Zina Abbott
Kendrick looked down at Madeline who, her eyes wide, twisted her upper body toward him and studied his face. The sight of her innocent, trusting gaze filled him with a sense of warmth that spread throughout his body. He knew he would do anything within his power to protect this baby.
Lydia's soft voice broke through the silence that followed. “Girls, I think it’s time for us to go. Mr. Denham has the situation well in hand. Your mother will be expecting us to fix dinner for her and her students. Please say goodbye, and we’ll take our leave.”
Caroline sucked in a breath and straightened to her full height. “We can't go yet, Aunt Lydia. We need to tell Mr. Denham some of the things he needs so you can take care of Madeline the right way.”
“Girls, I fully intend to take care of the baby properly. I’ll return tomorrow about his time to discuss matters with Mr. Denham.”
“But you won't always have us here to chaperone you, Aunt Lydia, so you’ll need to be able to stay in his shop.”
“She’s right.” Charlotte lifted Madeline from her sister’s arms and handed her off to Kendrick. Her gaze bored into his. “It was a good idea to bring Madeline's crib out into this room, but when Aunt Lydia comes, you need to bring the rocking chair out here, too. Madeline won’t always sleep the whole time, you know.”
“Girls, I can manage this.”
Caroline stepped to the end of the meat counter and patted the flat surface. “And, Mr. Denham, Aunt Lydia won't always have someone to hold Madeline so she won't fall off your meat counter during a diaper change. She needs you to bring out your kitchen table and set it against the wall.”
Lydia held both hands out in supplication. “Girls, I can speak for myself. Let’s not overly burden Mr. Denham, shall we?”
Ignoring her, Charlotte held up an index finger. “Either that,” her gaze once again connected with Kendrick’s. “or you need another counter against the wall that she can use for a changing table and to hold her extra clothes. Oh, when we come to visit, we’ll need something to sit in.”
Caroline turned to her sister. “When we're here, there's enough of us to chaperone. We can go into his kitchen and bring out the chairs that he already has.”
“I suppose.” Charlotte clasped her hands and pressed them against the bottom of her chin. “But wouldn’t be wonderful if, instead of chairs, there was a nice bench out here so we can sit together while we read our assignments?”
Caroline walked over and peered out of the side window. “A curtain here would look really pretty.”
Kendrick shook his head. This is a butcher shop. It doesn’t need to look pretty. He glanced around and took a deep breath as he reconsidered. Maybe, for Madeline, it wouldn’t hurt to fancy the place up a bit.
Charlotte nodded. “He needs a curtain over the front window, too, and so does Madeline.”
Kendrick squinted one eye and cocked his head. I do? Way over there?
Caroline sniffed with disgust. “She's right. Even in the short while we've been here, men have been looking in the window at us.”
Her hands on her hips, Charlotte scowled. “This isn’t a peep show. Aunt Lydia doesn't need to be on display while she's taking care of Madeline.”
Kendrick’s eyes widened. Peep show? How do these girls know about peep shows? He turned his gaze toward the offending window. The twins might have a point. The last thing he needed was for word to get around town that he allowed a woman—an unmarried woman—to spend hours alone in his shop. He would have every hustler, homesick miner, and a myriad of men anxious to find a wife beating a path to his door. Fortunately, he had installed a strong lock, but that would not prevent the men in town from trying to get her attention or talk to her. It was not unheard of for a man to walk up to a woman he had never met and ask her to marry him.
Kendrick’s gaze turned to Lydia. He had hired her as a nursemaid for Madeline. Could he ever come to care for her, the sister of the woman who irritated the devil out of him, enough to consider her for a wife?
Kendrick looked off to the side. Was he anxious to marry? He found Lydia to be an attractive woman, and he could not fault her kind manner as she tried to rein in the enthusiasm of her nieces. He felt a tingle of awareness course through him with the realization that, yes, if he decided to marry, he would be interested in courting her. What concerned him was, did she wish to remarry, or did she still mourn her dead husband? Then there was the question of whether or not he was willing to marry into the same family as Dorcas Thompson. He glanced around, hoping the others did not suspect the direction his thoughts had traveled.
Jeb's laugh brought him back to the present.
“By the time these girls finish with you, Kendrick, they’re going to have you down-right domesticated.”
Caroline, an innocent expression on her face, turned to Jeb. “That’s not so bad, is it? He said Madeline needs a family. We’re helping him with that.”
Jeb worked his mouth as he gazed off to the side. He spoke softly, a wistful quality to his voice. “No, reckon domestication’s not a bad thing at all.”
Upon witnessing Lydia raising her eyes heavenward and shaking her head, Kendrick choked down a laugh. Oh, yes, he could feel himself being drawn to Lydia Meyer.
Charlotte pointed to the window on the opposite side of the room. “What about that window over there?”
Kendrick’s gaze followed her pointing finger. “I draw the line with that window. There's nothing outside except the side yard, which is wide enough for me to drive my wagon through. The next building over is on the downslope. No one can see inside. I need the full light from it so I can see to cut my meat without chopping off my fingers.”
Caroline shivered. “Oh. That makes sense.”
Relieved he had won at least one battle in the make-over of his butcher shop, Kendrick huffed out a breath. He turned to Lydia—a mistake, if he entertained any hope of keeping emotional distance between them. Her eyes bright with laughter, she wore a gentle smile as her gaze met his. The sight almost rendered him speechless.
No, Lydia Meyer was nothing like her sister, Dorcas Thompson. It definitely would not take much for him to find himself drawn to her.
Still captured by Lydia’s gaze, Kendrick directed his words to Jeb. “You get all this, Jeb? Can you visit the lumber yard and figure out what I need for the rail, bench, and changing table and how much it will cost me? We’ll talk about what your charges will be, too. Maybe tomorrow, after things settle down here.”
As soon as he spoke the words, the thought occurred to Kendrick that between Madeline and the Thompson twins, he could forget about his life settling down any time soon.
Jeb leaned back with a full-bellied laugh. “Yep, I can figure it up tomorrow. I’ll need tools as part of my pay. If folks see my work here, I maybe can pick up other jobs around town. Way things are going, I might do better building things than I am sifting through dirt looking for gold.” He shook his head. “If nothing else, Kendrick, ever since you got that baby, I can always come here and count on seeing a good show.”
Chapter 13
Saturday, May 27, 1854
A fter listening to Dorcas all morning as she barked orders regarding everyone’s work assignments, Lydia sighed with relief when her sister finally pulled on her gloves, tied her bonnet to her head, and left the house. Lydia finished hanging the sheets on the line. She next picked up the large basket of mending Dorcas assigned her and began the walk toward her job with the butcher.
“Don’t walk that direction, Aunt Lydia. Mama likes to make her first stop at the tea house to spend an hour or so gossiping with Mrs. Pender.”
Lydia turned to Charlotte, who linked arms and turned her to walk in the opposite direction. She shook her head when she realized both girls had followed her. Before she knew it, they flanked her. “Oh, my! You’re out walking on the public streets by yourself? From everything I’ve heard, I wouldn’t think it would be safe.”
Caroline gave her what Lydia had come to recognize as her
smile she used when she intended to charm someone into seeing things her way.
“It’s safe enough, Aunt Lydia. It’s the middle of the day when most men are working their claims or have a job.”
Charlotte snorted. “Besides, as long as we continue to wear short skirts and pigtails, people see us as little girls…”
“…and, there are two of us.”
A knowing expression on her face, Charlotte’s gaze connected with Lydia’s. “It’s you who needs a chaperone for protection more than we do. You’re old enough for the men who want a wife to come after you.”
Lydia sucked her lips inside her teeth and stared straight ahead. Why was everyone so intent on her marrying? Even though Horace died over two years before, she was not sure she wished to remarry. She forced a smile as she looked between her nieces. “Have you girls finished your assigned chores? I wouldn’t want your mother to become angry with you for taking the time to help me.”
Caroline nodded. “Oh, we’re finished. She assigns us the same tasks every Saturday. While Mama’s in the parlor reading Friday nights, we do as much as we can then. That way, we’re able to get away and do what we like for a few hours on Saturday when Mama leaves the house.”
Lydia shook her head. “I’m not sure what to think about the way you girls sneak around and manipulate your mother. It almost seems disrespectful.”
Charlotte, a determined look in her eye, turned to her aunt. “Aunt Lydia, we figured out years ago we had to manage Mama properly if we want to escape her always ordering us around and finding fault. You need to do the same.”
Caroline nodded. “The trick is to convince her we’re doing what she expects us to do while we change things a little so we can do a few things we want to do…”
“…like the canvas cover on the oak tree that hides our reading spot from the house…”
“…and the way we do our chores ahead so we have time to walk around town while she’s in the teashop…”
“…and we go to Papa when we need help with something. As long as we aren’t demanding, he can be very reasonable, even if he doesn’t know why we ask…”
“…and if Mama says anything, he laughs and tells her he decided it was all right.”
Lydia faced forward as they continued to walk. Manage Dorcas? The thought appealed to her. Unlike her nieces, she had never been able to manage her sister. At seven years Dorcas’s junior, most of their life together, she had been smaller and physically weaker. In spite of the futility when it came to getting along with Dorcas, it had been Lydia’s nature to obey and keep the peace, not fight back or manipulate.
Unlike Charlotte and Caroline, when she had been young, not only did she have Dorcas to deal with, she had her own mother, too—both cut from the same cloth when it came to disposition and personality.
Lydia smiled as a thought entered her mind. The scriptures might say the peacemakers would be blessed and inherit the world, but that event must take place after this life ended. All she had inherited in this life were dependence upon others and people telling her what to do. “We’ll see, girls. My goal is to try to better my situation so that I don’t need to rely on the charity of my family. I hope to earn enough money to pay my own way—at least, a little bit.”
“Aunt Lydia, you do realize, don’t you, that once Mama finds out you have a job and are earning money, she’ll expect you to give all of it to her?”
Lydia turned and studied Charlotte, who had spoken. With a sinking feeling, she realized her niece was right. She gulped and then sucked in a breath. “That might be. It’s only right that I pay for my sons’ education and the food we eat.”
Caroline trotted a few steps ahead and turned to walk backwards. “We know how much she charges the other students for school, Aunt Lydia, so tell us what she tells you.”
“Maybe you should ask her to tell you the weekly cost of food ahead of time so she doesn’t ask you to pay more than what’s fair.”
“She might want you to pay for your own wash soap for your sheets. At least you brought your own bedding.”
Caroline moved back to Lydia’s side and linked arms. “And, if she makes you pay for all that, we’ll try to help you so Mama doesn’t treat you like a servant.”
Several seconds passed as Lydia fought back tears. Why had she thought she could work a few hours a week and have enough extra money she could control without her sister’s oversight and demands? Her boys were growing, and they would eventually need new clothes and shoes. The temptation not to tell Dorcas the full amount of what she earned crossed her mind, but she shoved aside the dishonest thought. The girls raised good points. However, she needed to do all she could to earn her own way. Whether Dorcas appreciated it or not, that included paying her sister for the keep of her family.
Lydia shivered as she considered Dorcas’s other solution for her life. Her sister warned her she expected to introduce her to several men at church with the hope one of them would offer for her. Unfortunately, her experience as a wife to Horace had not inspired her to look upon the married state with enthusiasm. She knew many of the men in town, including a few who, even now, walked the same street with her and her nieces and turned a curious or calculating eye toward the trio, would be interested in a wife for the same reason Horace had been—their own comfort and convenience. That was not what she wanted for her or her sons.
With the exception of the butcher, a man she knew her sister highly disapproved of, she had hardly spoken to the men in this town, including Simon. Her brother-in-law greeted her briefly when he arrived home late the night before. However, he left the house in the morning before Lydia rose from her bed.
As the three turned the corner and his building came into view, Lydia’s thoughts turned to the butcher, Kendrick Denham. Her eyebrow flickered with curiosity at the sight of a scruffy-looking man standing outside, his hands on each side of his face to cut the glare as he looked through the window glass.
As they approached, Charlotte marched up to him. “Why are you staring in that window? Didn’t your folks teach you any manners?”
Lydia cringed upon hearing her niece’s indignant tone of voice.
Wearing a scowl, the man, one Lydia judged to be barely in his twenties, turned to Charlotte. “What’s it to you, girlie? I’m watching the baby. He kicked everyone out, said he’s through selling meat this morning.”
“He’ll let us in. We’re here to take care of the baby so he can make his deliveries.”
In vain, Lydia reached a hand out in an attempt to stop Charlotte from shouldering the man aside. Crowding in front of him, she knocked on the window and stood, her nose almost touching the glass, where she could be seen from the inside. Lydia leaned forward to peek through the glass. She could tell the second Kendrick caught sight of them, for, Madeline riding on one forearm, he strode toward them.
As he opened the door, Lydia noticed Kendrick’s smile held a hint of relief. Ignoring the complaints voiced by the man Kendrick waved away from the door, the three women walked inside.
“Welcome, ladies. I’m happy you’re here, although—” Kendrick looked at first Charlotte and then Caroline. “I didn’t realize you two were coming with your aunt.”
“We had to make sure she got here safely.” Caroline spotted the rocking chair Kendrick already brought up front. She grabbed it by its arms and carried it to the front corner of the room on the opposite side of the door from the window facing the street. “Sit here, Aunt Lydia. That man outside won’t be able to see you and Madeline if you stay here. Maybe he’ll give up and go away.”
Charlotte reached for the baby.
Madeline, a grin on her face, willingly slipped into her arms. “Caro, now she’s here, we need to leave so we have time to get to the mercantile before Mama finishes visiting and drinking her tea.”
“You’re right.” Caroline turned toward the front window. Upon seeing the same man staring inside, she again faced Kendrick and blew out a breath. “I wish he would go away. I don’t
like him watching us.”
Charlotte leaned to look over her sister’s shoulder. “Do you think he’ll stay here or follow us?”
“As soon as I make sure your aunt has everything she needs, I’ll walk you two out and tell him to get lost. I can escort you to your house.”
Lydia took the baby from Charlotte. “I appreciate that, Mr. Denham.” As she looked up and smiled at the butcher in appreciation for his willingness to see to the safety of her nieces, she felt her skin prickling with an awareness of this man that overflowed the capacity of her skin to contain it. She sensed her breaths growing shallow and coming more frequently, coupled by her heart beating faster. What her response to his presence meant, she had no idea. Being around Horace had never affected her this way.
Lydia lowered her gaze and looked away. She guessed her reaction must be due to the stress of the long journey she had recently completed, plus struggling to find her place and that of her children within her sister’s household. Nothing else could explain her reaction to the words of kindness from this man.
Meeting Kendrick had pleasantly surprised her. Dorcas assured her he was a man of questionable character. From her sister’s description, she expected him to be unsavory and uncouth. Yet, the way he had dealt with her nieces the day before—the way he behaved as a gentleman toward her both the day before and right now—cast him in a different light.
She looked down at the upturned face of the baby now studying her. Using the flat of her hand, she rubbed circles on Madeline’s back. She reflected on the way Kendrick Denham took on the care of this child—both physically and by protecting her from malicious accusations because of her origins. It touched a place deep in her heart.
Even though they were his legitimate sons, Horace had barely shown any interest in Cole and Will when they were babies. Only after they reached an age where he could put them to work on the farm did he have much to do with them. Lydia looked up and twitched when she realized the girls were talking to her.