Hometown Cinderella: Hometown CinderellaThe Inn at Hope Springs

by Patricia Davids

  He nodded. “It’s my homestead. My father’s and grandfather’s before me. My granddaddy built the original structure—what we’re sitting in right now—with the first people who settled in this hamlet.” He gestured around the low-beamed room with his hand.

  Mrs. Keller and her son looked around them. “It seems very snug and cozy.”

  “It is. It was built from logs split right here on the property—oak, chestnut, pine. My daddy added on the shed and, along with my brothers and me, we pulled down the original barn and put up the one we have now.”

  “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Three, and a sister,” he said proudly. “We’re scattered around the hamlet all the way to the next village down the coast.”

  “How nice to have such a large family.”

  He chuckled. “Besides them, there’s a whole bunch of aunts and uncles and cousins.”

  The children began to talk more and more, Dietrich quizzing Lizzie on her large family, and she to ask him about his German relatives. Gideon felt himself grow more relaxed. Soon he found himself talking more of his boyhood years and the hamlet, more than he had in a long time.

  Mrs. Keller spoke the least, but he hoped she was feeling more comfortable as well. He found by the end of supper that he had enjoyed his meal in a way he hadn’t…since Elsie had passed away.

  The thought brought him up short.

  He enjoyed the companionship of his daughter, but it had been a while since he’d enjoyed the company of an adult around his table—an adult who shared and seemed to understand his concerns for his daughter, and for whose son he could offer a guiding role.

  When Lizzie got up to help clear the table, Mara suddenly realized how late it was. She stood immediately. “Thank you both so much. That was delicious.”

  Mr. Jakeman followed suit, stretching. Mara tore her gaze from his broad chest.

  “I’m going out to get the animals in. I’ll bring the wagon around to take you home.”

  “Oh, no, Dietrich and I will walk,” she said. “It’s a lovely evening.”

  “Very well, but I’ll walk you home then.”

  Before she could protest, he left the kitchen, Dietrich following along behind him.

  As Lizzie chattered about her new dress, pouring hot water into the dishpan, Mara finished clearing the table, her thoughts on the pleasant meal. How different from the meals she and Dietrich shared with Carina.

  “I hope you can come by again tomorrow, Mrs. Keller.” Lizzie looked at her shyly, her hands submerged in the soapy water.

  “Let’s see… Yes, I think I can. I’ll get you started and then the following day I have to go to town to give piano lessons.” She shook her head with a smile. “I must also teach my female pupils how to be young ladies.”

  Instead of laughing, a wistful note crept into Lizzie’s voice. “I wish I knew how to become a lady.”

  “Being a lady is more a state of mind than any set of rules.”

  Lizzie swished a rag over a plate and dunked it into the rinse water. “Yes, but ladies do things and say things in a certain way. Anyone can see right away you’re a lady.” She shook her head with a laugh as she placed the dish on the rack. “Why, you probably talked the least of us at the table, and yet, anyone coming in would have said, ‘What a lady.’ They’d look at me and say, ‘What an awkward teenager.’”

  Mara took the dish and began to dry it. “Oh, I could easily teach you a few more tricks of the trade.” She meant to be facetious but Lizzie took her seriously, sending her a look full of hope and eagerness.

  “Would you really? I’d be so grateful. You were ever so helpful before that last sociable.” She turned her attention back to a dish, swabbing it with new vigor. “I’d certainly show that Paul I’m no silly girl!”

  Mara set down the dry plate and took another. “Is this what this is all about?” she said with a chuckle.

  Lizzie glanced over her shoulder, a spark of fear in her eyes. “No. It has nothing to do with him!”

  Mara was careful not to smile. “Of course not. Well, we’ll fit in a few lessons on deportment when I come by to help you sew your gown.”

  As they finished tidying the kitchen, Gideon and Dietrich came back into the kitchen. Mara took up her hat and cloak. “We’d best be on our way. Carina will wonder what’s been keeping me.” She retied her bonnet ribbons with hands that began to shake at the thought of Carina’s reception.

  Gideon took the cloak from her and set it on her shoulders. “Oh—thank you.” Her voice sounded flustered, but she attributed it to her worry over Carina, and not to the warm regard in his eyes.

  When she stepped toward Lizzie to bid her good-night, the girl put out her arms and the two embraced lightly. “See you tomorrow after school then. Thank you for a lovely supper. Good night.”

  “Good night, Mrs. Keller. Thank you…you know…for everything.”

  Mara was conscious of Gideon’s larger frame behind her as she walked through the dim woodshed. Dietrich ran ahead of them and waited outside.

  Gideon cleared his throat. “Mrs. Keller—”

  She turned and stopped short at how close he stood. “Yes, Mr. Jakeman?”

  “I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your taking the time with Lizzie.”

  She let out a sigh of relief that it was only that. Her heart had begun to beat like a trip hammer. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” she said softly.

  He fingered the edges of his hat, his eyes not meeting hers. “She hasn’t known a mother in many years, and I realize she is turning into a woman before I can seem to teach her the things she…she’s going to need to know.”

  Her heart went out to him. How much he cared for his daughter—his conversation mirrored Lizzie’s own with her just moments before, as if he had overheard it. “I…I offered to teach her a few things about being ladylike, only because she asked me to,” she hastened to add. “I wouldn’t do so otherwise. But I wanted to have your permission as well.”

  Warm gratitude filled his eyes. “You have it.”

  “I don’t mean to presume—”

  “You’re not, ma’am, not at all.” He inhaled, expanding his chest. “Fact is, I’d be grateful. I could lend a hand with your Dietrich, that is, if you wouldn’t take it amiss.”

  A relief so vast it threatened to undo her filled her so suddenly that she reached out and touched his forearm before she realized what she was doing. “Oh, no! I am thankful for all you’ve done already.” Only then did she realize how much she’d wanted—needed—someone like this for her Dietrich. She removed her hand, curling her fingers into her palm. What would he think? “I-it’s been…difficult. He has been through so much…after Klaus fell ill…and I fear I’m not doing a very good job making things right for him.” Her voice thickened.

  “You seem to be doing fine, Mrs. Keller.” Gideon’s voice was gruff. “Sometimes a boy needs a man to talk to.”

  She raised her eyes slowly to his. “Yes.” He did understand.

  The seconds lengthened. He cleared his throat again. “Yes, well, as I said, I can take him along with me sometimes after school and show him some things, how to do a few chores around the farm.”

  She tried to keep her thoughts on Dietrich and what Gideon was saying. “Would you? I need to leave early sometimes to go to town, and it’s difficult for Mrs. Blackstone to know what to do with a young boy, and she fears he will hinder Paul in this duties.”

  She had the sense he understood more than she was saying. Her heart swelled, wishing for things she didn’t dare articulate.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mara pinned the last section of the dress hem and sat back on her heels. “There, let’s see if that’s long enough.”

  Lizzie p
eered at herself in the full-length mirror in the upstairs sitting room. “Do you think it’s all right?”

  “Step back a bit and let’s see.” Mara stood and eyed the girl’s gown. They’d been working at it diligently every spare moment for a week now. Lizzie had been sewing every evening on her own. She stood now in the sleeveless bodice and skirt. An overskirt and sleeves had yet to be added.

  “Turn around slowly,” Mara instructed. The gown just brushed Lizzie’s ankles.

  “Are you sure it’s long enough? I don’t want to look like a little girl.”

  Mara smiled. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up, dear.”

  Lizzie pulled at the bodice, arching her back as if to push out her chest. “Being looked at as a pesky girl is no fun.”

  “Is Paul still teasing you?”

  Lizzie glanced at her with something like panic in her eyes. “He and all the rest,” she said, her lips turned down.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t tease you for long. Soon they’ll be tripping over each other to ask you to dance.”

  “Hah! That’d be the day.”

  “I think the length is fine. I’m glad I chose the tartan plaid for the overskirt. It will look very nice with this dark green serge.”

  “And I can have a bustle.”

  Mara met her eyes in the mirror. “A small one.”

  Lizzie pulled up her two braids atop her head and continued looking at herself in the glass. “I wish I had someplace else to wear it besides Thanksgiving.”

  “Hmm. There’ll be church.”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  Mara made an effort to think of something. “Perhaps we could plan a little social event, since you’ve been doing so well with your lessons at being ladylike.”

  Lizzie’s mouth widened in a grin. “Truly? Oh, that would be wonderful. What about a tea party for us? You’ve been teaching me to do everything so properly. We could make little cakes.”

  Mara nodded, catching her enthusiasm. “We could use the best linens and nice china. I have a tea set my mother gave me. I only use it for special occasions.” She smiled in reminiscence. “It’s the only thing I brought home with me from my years in Europe. It’s traveled everywhere with me.”

  Lizzie clapped her hands together. “I have a nice embroidered tablecloth that my mother made me. It’s my favorite, with flowers all along the border.”

  “It will be like a bit of springtime in winter.” Mara focused on the present. “Very well, why don’t you take off the gown? We’ll press the hem to mark it. In the meantime, I shall begin on the sleeves. But you’d better get home now before it gets dark.”

  “Mrs. Keller, why do you always talk as if growing up is so bad?”

  Mara stopped in the act of unpinning the back of the girl’s bodice, brought up short at the question. “Do I do that?”

  “Well, you’re always saying not to be too anxious to grow up. Is it so bad being an adult?” Lizzie pulled off the bodice and faced Mara, her eyes honest.

  Mara helped her take off the rest of the gown, pondering her answer. Did she appear that way? “Not at all. I just want you to enjoy your youth while you have it.”

  Lizzie pulled on her cotton shirt and buttoned it before donning her dark blue work skirt. “Didn’t you enjoy yours?”

  Mara folded the gown, careful of the pins in its hem. “I did. My father and I were quite happy together.” She made an effort to smile. “Like you and your father. But suddenly it was over. He remarried…and I went away to school.” She placed the gown on a chair and folded her arms, looking out the small octagonal window which faced the bay across the road. The marsh grass blew in the wind and whitecaps topped the incoming waves. The skies were gray and threatening. They would probably have a nor’easter in the night.

  “Was Mrs. Blackstone a bad stepmother?”

  “What?” The direct question startled her. “I— No, no, she wasn’t. I mean, I never really lived with her.” She turned from the window and smoothed down her skirt.

  “She seems, I don’t know, friendly in some ways, but sometimes I get the sense she doesn’t really like you.”

  How discerning the young could be. Mara tried to laugh it off. “Oh, no. She’s been very gracious. But it was probably a bit of an adjustment having me come to live with her. She didn’t expect me to suddenly become a widow just after she had become one, too.”

  “Do you miss your husband?”

  Her glance flew once more to the girl’s. Goodness, where did all these questions come from?

  Lizzie smiled, her freckled cheeks growing red. “I’m sorry. Papa says I need to bite my tongue before the words come out. I’m just curious. I missed Mama something awful when she first died. I can’t imagine what it must be like when a person loses a husband or wife. I know Papa grieved a long time, though he didn’t cry or anything. But I could tell he was hurting.”

  The girl’s words disarmed Mara and she reached out a hand to her. “Of course, dear. I understand.” She pictured the strong, silent Mr. Jakeman hurting for the absence of his wife. The fact that he hadn’t remarried in all these years was proof that he mourned her still.

  “What was it like for you? Dietrich hardly talks about his papa.”

  Mara looked down, pressing her lips together, thinking how to reply. She didn’t want to be dishonest with the girl, yet she didn’t want to tell her the truth. The truth was too sordid for a young girl’s ears. “My husband was ill for a long time, so I think that helped soften the blow of his eventual departure. Dietrich was very young, and we didn’t want to risk contagion, so he saw less and less of his father even though he lived under the same roof.” She sighed deeply. “By the time Klaus, my husband, passed away, Dietrich hardly knew him, and I… Well, he was suffering so much, that it was more a blessed release than a tragedy.”

  Lizzie nodded. “It was like that with Mama, too, but only for a short while. She fell sick. Doctor said it was pneumonia. It was in the dead of winter. Pa and I nursed her, but it didn’t do no good. She was dead in a week.” The girl’s eyes had filled with tears at the end, and she swiped at the corner of one eye with the edge of her sleeve. “But it seemed like she was there one day and gone the next. It didn’t seem fair. I missed her so much. I still do.”

  Mara gathered her in her arms. Her thin shoulders shook in Mara’s embrace.

  “I know I shouldn’t cry anymore. It’s been five years and I know she’s gone to be with Jesus. He must’ve had a reason to call her home so soon. Reverend Grayson says she’s in a better place, but, oh, it was so hard to get used to having her gone.”

  “I know, dear. It must still be hard.” As she spoke in soothing tones, she rubbed the girl’s back as if she were a child. “I still miss my mother at times.”

  Lizzie sniffed and looked up at her. “Do you really?”

  Mara nodded. “I’ll want to ask her something. I guess you never get over things like that with people you were close to, like you with your mother, and your father with…with her.”

  Lizzie fished her handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her face, stepping away from Mara. “Yeah, I know Papa still misses her something awful. He hasn’t ever met anyone else even though folks like Cousin Sarah keep telling him he should marry again, that he’s too young to go on pining.” She sniffed one final time and smiled. “Of course, if he ever met someone like you, I wouldn’t mind at all!”

  Mara stared at the girl, who was gazing at her shyly. Then as the moment grew awkward, she gave a short, nervous laugh to dissipate the tension. “Why, thank you, Lizzie. That means a lot to me. Of course, you know I wouldn’t have to marry someone like your dad to be close to you. We can be great friends. Isn’t it nice that we live nearby to each other?”

  Lizzie nodded, her smile appearing a bit
wobbly. “Oh, sure.” She tilted her head. “Would you mind marrying someone like Pa?”

  “Of course not. Your father seems a very fine man.” She fiddled with a strand of hair at her nape, praying for the right words. “It’s just that I…I’m like your father, I guess. I decided I wasn’t going to remarry.”

  Lizzie’s eyes widened. “Ever again?”

  Mara tried to smile in an effort to make light of the subject. “That’s right.”

  “Was it because you loved your husband so much?”

  Mara swallowed. How had the topic gotten so far? She usually managed to steer conversations away from anything too personal in her life. But then she’d never befriended anyone of Lizzie’s age—a girl still young enough to be completely honest and expecting the same from the adults close to her. “No, that’s not the reason.” She looked away. “It’s a—”

  Before she could think of what to say that didn’t sound as if she were shutting the girl out, Lizzie came up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Mrs. Keller. You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too hurtful.”

  Mara nodded, finding it hard to swallow, let alone speak. “Thank you,” she finally managed to whisper.

  Just then they heard the door downstairs open. “Halloo, anyone home? Mara, where are you?” came Carina’s sharp voice up the stairwell.

  The two broke apart. “I’m up here,” Mara called from the top of the stairs, to alert Carina before she said something unpleasant. “We’re coming down.”

  Carina stood at the bottom of the stairs as Lizzie and Mara trooped down. “I was just trying on my new gown, Mrs. Blackstone,” Lizzie said.

  “I see.” Carina touched a corner of the gown as Lizzie reached her. “How pretty.”

  “It should be ready for Thanksgiving. Are you going to join us at the McClellans’ as usual?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Her gaze rested on Mara in a way she found speculative.

  “I’d best be on my way. Papa will be coming by with Dietrich.”