***
Thanksgiving morning came earlier than usual and there was so much to do to get the dinner on the table. Despite the hour, Laurel was well rested. The letter she’d written to her family had a lot to do with her feeling of wellbeing, but mostly she was content because she lay cradled in Griffin’s arms.
“Feeling lazy this morning?” Griffin tightened his embrace and nuzzled her neck. “I could stay right here all morning.”
“Me, too,” she agreed. “But we have twenty guests coming today, all of them expecting a turkey with stuffing, and all the trimmings.”
He propped himself up on one elbow, and glared at her. “This is a Texas house, woman, and here we say ‘dressing and fixin’s’. Just when I think I’ve got you educated, you pop up with something else.” His tone was gruff, but his grin teased. “It may take me at least fifty years to get you trained the way I want you.”
“That’s an awfully short amount of time, don’t you think?”
“I might be able to force myself to go seventy-five, but after that, well, I’ll have to admit defeat.”
She turned around to face him, raised her arm to his shoulder, and with all the seriousness she could muster, she whispered, “Quitter!”
His hands circled her waist and squeezed, his fingertips digging into her tender flesh.
Laurel shrieked and giggled, squirming half-heartedly to escape his grasp. She swatted his arm and froze when a knock sounded at the door.
“Laurel? Griffin? Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Gwenda,” Laurel answered. “I’m just getting ready to go downstairs.”
Henry’s voice sounded in a low tone, just above a whisper. “Gwen, leave the young folks be. Let’s go on down and start a pot of coffee.”
“Oh!” Gwenda blurted. “Take your time, dear, there’s no rush.”
Laurel buried her face into Griffin’s chest and giggled uncontrollably for a few seconds. When she looked at him, she admitted, “I could almost be embarrassed, if I didn’t love you so much.”
“Shucks, ma’am.” He kissed her, and then swatted her on her backside. “Now, get dressed and go fix my breakfast. I’m starting work on that attic room this morning, and I need my strength to deal with the Hailstock twins.”
By the time she made it to the kitchen, Gwenda was preparing the turkey for the roasting pan. Bread was drying for the dressing, potatoes and yams sat on the drain board waiting their turn in the lineup for preparation.
She heard Griffin coming down the stairs, so she poured him a cup of coffee. “What was the final count for how many are coming today?”
“Maybe twenty, but we won’t know for sure until we start eating.” Gwenda smiled. “They smell the food cooking and show up from miles around. It’s good some of our guests have brought extra tables and chairs to seat most everyone. Will you help me get this bird in the oven?”
“Of course. Me on one side and you on the other?” Laurel took her place opposite Gwenda and opened the oven door. “This has to be the largest roasting pan I’ve ever seen.”
“Ladies, Henry and I will be up in the attic, if you need us.” Griffin joined them briefly, picked up an empty cup, poured anther coffee, and then grabbed the one Laurel had fixed. “Don’t hesitate to ask for help.”
“Getting the stove ready to light this morning and de-feathering the turkey was a tremendous help already.” Laurel turned him toward the hallway and gave him a slight shove. “Now get yourself upstairs, Mr. Benning. With any luck, we’ll be needing that extra room, for I finished my letter last night.”
When Griffin left the kitchen, Gwenda asked, “May I ask if that’s the letter to your parents?”
Yes.” Laurel picked up a sharp knife and started peeling potatoes. “Turns out the words came easier than I thought they would. Thank you for your encouragement.”
“Of course, dear. I simply put your mother in my position and what I wish had happened with my daughter.” She slathered her palms with butter and coated each yam before placing them in the pan to bake. “You’re a accomplished young woman and your mother deserves to know you.”
Laurel’s eyes misted over at Gwenda’s words of praise. She didn’t need the Sealy’s support, but it was very nice to have. As she put the last peeled potato in the pot for boiling, she caught sight of Coral standing in the doorway, barefooted and in her nightgown.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning,” the little girl answered and shivered.
Laurel dried her hands and scooped Coral up into her arms. “Here, let’s get you over here by the warm stove.”
“Me, too?”
“Awe, of course, Josie.” She scooped her up, too, and hugged her close. Setting her in the chair beside her sister, she took a large kitchen towel from the drawer and covered their bare legs. “There, better now?”
They nodded their heads in unison, and smiled broadly when Gwenda set biscuits, syrup, and two glasses of fresh milk on the table for them.
Laurel recognized Clem and Otto’s voices coming from the temporary front entrance, along with their father Ansel and a woman she guessed was their mother, Olga. She glanced from the girls to Gwenda.
“Go greet your guests, dear. The girls and I have the kitchen under control. Don’t we?” She smiled and two tiny faces nodded in agreement.
She smoothed the front of her dress, straightened the collar of her shirt, and then greeted the Hailstocks in the main room.
Extending her hand, she said, “You must be, Olga. I’m Laurel, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Olga pulled her into a tight hug, rocking back and forth. “Ya, I’ve been wit family in Ohio for too long, and it’s good to be back home.”
Laurel loved her slight Norwegian accent and decided she enjoyed her hug, too.
“Thanks for taking care of da boys.”
“They’re a pleasure, but they do keep me on my toes.” Laurel smiled, backed out of Olga’s embrace, and motioned to the covered cake plate the woman carried. “Is that your special dessert I’ve heard so much about?”
“Ya, I bring da Krum Kaka.”
“Oh, Olga, I asked you never to bring those again.” Edna Tate entered not only behind Olga and Ansel, but behind her swollen belly. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to their delectable flavor.”
“Looks to me like you already been eatin’ too many!” Olga hooted and patted Edna’s belly. “How many ya got in d’ere, a litter?”
Edna’s face turned a beautiful shade of rose. “Well, Doc does think I may be having twins.” She hugged Olga, and then handed Laurel the dish she carried. “Here’s the green beans and Sam has the pound cake.”
“Thank you, I’ll go see if there’s room somewhere around the oven so these will be warm when we sit down to eat. Also, I’ve made a chocolate sauce to drizzle over the cake slices.”
Laurel headed toward the kitchen and met Gwenda leading the girls back upstairs.
“I’m going to get the girls dressed for the day. The kitchen is in order and the turkey is coming along nicely, as are the yams. I haven’t turned the fire on under the russet potatoes yet, though, since they won’t take as long to cook.”
“Thank you, Gwenda. I’m so nervous I can’t stand it.” She jumped when Griffin walked up behind her. “I thought you were still in the attic.”
“No, we came down a while ago. We’ve figured out a plan for the space. We’ll be able to make two rooms so your sisters can have plenty of privacy.”
“How wonderful!” She stood on tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Now if only they all will come.”
He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. “I’m still betting on your father’s curiosity about the man you’ve chosen to marry. I didn’t ask for your hand, and he didn’t give his permission. Trust me, it’ll be eating him up inside.” He kissed the top of her head. “I guarantee, it would me.”
“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll hold you to it.”
The next couple of hours flew by for Laurel. She’d welcomed so many people there was no way she would remember all their names. While the men had congregated in the main room, it seemed the majority of the women were crowded into the kitchen. She managed to squeeze past a group that was making the deviled eggs, and wriggle through the kitchen door into the hallway for a breath of air. When she reached the dining area, the preacher and his wife, Brother and Sister Waggoner, stepped onto the porch.
“Tildie!” she squealed. She took the pie plate her friend carried and asked, “Is this your pumpkin pie I’m dying to taste?”
“It is, and it’s by the grace of the good Lord that it made it here in one piece.” Perspiration glistened across her nose even though her hand fan fluttered near her face and neck like the wings of a hummingbird. She leaned in close and confided, “Someone should teach that husband of mine how to drive a wagon and a team, or at least show him where the brake is located.”
“Matilda?” Owen called from a short distance away. “Don’t air our dirty laundry to our hostess and her guests.”
“Dirty laundry my hind foot,” Tildie said in a low voice. “The man may be able to lead a congregation, but he simply cannot drive.”
Laurel saw him raise his eyebrow in an attempt to silence his wife, but he did a poor job of hiding his grin. She set the pie on the buffet with the other desserts, smothered a giggle, and led Tildie to the kitchen. Several women met them at the door, with their hands full of food for the table. They jumped in to help and eventually got everyone seated.
Griffin glanced around the dining and main room, and smiled with pride. He had so much to be thankful for, as did they all. The tornado and fire had done minimal damage, both physical and spiritual, and the rain would bring new growth for the spring. His family was intact once again. With Laurel’s arrival, he and his girls, and the Sealy’s could begin to heal.
He knocked his knuckles on the table to gain everyone’s attention. “Owen would you lead us in prayer?”
“I’d be happy to.” Owen stood, took Tildie’s hand and encouraged everyone to do the same with the person next to them.
“Our Heavenly Father,
We thank you for our many blessings and
The opportunity to spend this time with our
Family and friends.
We thank you for this glorious bounty gathered
And prepared with love.
Please bless it and sanctify it to the nourishment
Of our bodies.
We pray for continued health and the ability to
Use the strengths you’ve so graciously given us.
We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ,
Amen.”
“Now dig in, folks, and eat like there’s no tomorrow. Show the ladies how much we appreciate their efforts.”
After the preacher had returned to his chair, Griffin stood and, ignoring the groans from Clem and Otto and a few other of the younger guests, he said, “I won’t take too long, but I just want to thank everyone for being here with us, and I want to offer a special ‘Thank you’ to my new bride, Laurel.
“You are one of the most courageous and unselfish women I’ve ever known. You have made our family complete, and I love you.” He raised his water glass in toast. “Now, you can all dig in!”
***
Later that evening, after food and dishes, and guests had been taken care of, Laurel and Griffin put Coral and Josie to sleep, and then retired to their bedroom.
He closed the door and said, “You must be worn out.”
“Oddly, I’m not. My feet hurt, but I’m still wound up from the day. Everything was so wonderful.”
“Here, sit down.”
She did as instructed and, took the envelope he offered. “What’s this?”
“Owen brought the mail he collected yesterday. The postmark is from Wisconsin.”
She read the name and squealed under her breath, so as not to wake anyone. “Oh! My letter was forwarded to my friend, Roberta. You remember me telling you, she was our manager at the mill.”
“Will you share it with me?” He unbuttoned her shoes, took them off, and began to massage her feet, beginning with her toes.
“Of course. I’m pleased you want to hear it.” Carefully, she opened the treasured missive and began to read:
My friend Laurel,
So much has happened since I last saw you, and I'm pleased that I have a way to keep in touch.
Wisconsin is a beautiful place, and I'm living on the shores of Lake Superior, which is as close to an ocean as I could hope to find this far inland. I have married a gentle German man by the name of Jakob, and have two new sons named Konrad and Lukas.
Life here is a far cry from our lives in Lawrence. I work just as hard, but the work is pleasing to me. It's nice to be able to do what one wants to do for a change, instead of what one must do to make ends meet in the middle.
My cooking skills have greatly improved and my family has not yet once complained of me burning anything. I think my life here will be a good life. I still miss my friends a great deal, but I'm certain I will make more.
I wish you all the happiness you deserve with Mr. Benning and pray that God is good to your new family. You are always in my thoughts.
Best wishes,
Roberta
“I’m glad your friend is happy.”
“I am, too.” She looked at her husband and felt all soft and cuddly, although that could have just been from the foot rub. “I wish and hope all my friends are as happy as I am at this moment. I am the most fortunate woman.”
He kneaded the arch of her foot with the heel of his hand, and smiled. “You are indeed and spoiled.”
“Yes, I am, thanks to you.” She closed her eyes and knew if she didn’t move soon, this was exactly where she’d be in the morning. Stifling a yawn, she opened her eyes. “I love you, Griffin Benning.”
He scooped her up and kissed her. “I love you, too. Shall we go to bed?”
“I’m still not very sleepy.”
“Neither am I.”
EPILOGUE
Flat Rock Point, December 15, 1890
“Griffin, are you sure it isn’t too much to spend?”
“I’m sure.” He offered Laurel his arm. “Shall we go see what he’s done so far and finalize the order?”
“Yes.” She saw Mr. Adams working in the back room of the furniture store. He was carving the panel on a wooden door similar to the one he’d made for their house. He did beautiful work and they were fortunate the beds they needed didn’t have to come from Little Rock. She stepped up to the counter and rang the bell.
“Mrs. Benning, Griffin,” Adams looked up from his work, waved and came out to greet her and Griffin. “Come on back and tell me what you think of the beds. You said you wanted something simple, and I thought a turned four-poster frame would work in any situation.”
She ran her hands over the polished wood on the one that was complete. “You’ve done extraordinary work on such short notice.”
“It helped that I had one already finished and only had to make a duplicate to fill your order.”
“They’re exactly what I had in mind.” She smiled broadly at Griffin. “They’re perfect now, and for when the girls get older and want their own beds.”
“Adams, shall I pay you now?”
“No, I’ll put them on your account and next time you’re in town will be soon enough.” He wrote notes in his ledger sitting on his desk. “I’ll have these finished and delivered by the end of the week. Will that be all right?”
“That should be fine. We don’t have a definite date yet for when our company will be arriving.”
“I’ll get them delivered as early in the week as I can.”
“Thank you, Mr. Adams.”
Outside on the walkway, Laurel pulled her coat closer to her throat. Finally, the air had a nip to it. She knew back home in Philadelphia and Lawrence, they already had several feet of snow. And while she liked t
he ease of getting around without the mess, she quite missed the beauty of the fluffy white flakes.
“So where are we headed now?” she asked.
“Well, I have business with, Jasper, at the livery, so why don’t I walk you to the general store? You can pick out the extra linens you need, and I want you to look for a rug for the attic bedroom.”
“And then, we can meet for lunch at the café?”
“Sounds good to me.” He held her elbow and guided her toward the general store. “I’ve had a hankering lately for Maudie’s stew. Meet you there in an hour?”
“Yes.”
After he left her at the door, Laurel went inside to peruse the aisles of merchandise. For a small town, Mr. Babcock kept the shelves amply stocked with fashionable merchandise, as well as the necessities. Some items she’d seen only last season in the stores back east.
Looking around the store, she found new sheets and coverlets for the smaller beds, along with two new feather pillows. She also saw a water pitcher and bowl painted with pale pink roses and a delicate butterfly that was too beautiful to resist. She set her selections at the counter by the register and saw Tildie, accompanied by Charis Jenkins, otherwise known as the Widow Jenkins, come in the front door. She’d met the woman at her own wedding reception a few weeks ago, and even though Griffin had a problem with her, she found the woman pleasant enough, but lonely.
Laurel joined the women at the millinery counter. “Hello, ladies. How are you this fine day?”
“Fine, thank you,” Charis answered.
“Oh, Laurel, I’m glad we ran into you today.” Tildie picked up a hat with feathers, satin ribbons, and netting, and handed it to the overly quiet woman. “You’re invited to the parsonage this Sunday afternoon, for a reception honoring Charis and her wedding to Henrik Hailstock.”
“We’d be privileged to attend, if we can get back to town. I’ll be sure and check with Griffin.” She shook hands with Charis. “Please accept my sincere congratulations.”
“Have you heard from your parents, as to whether they’ll be able to visit for Christmas?” Tildie asked.
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