by Jenna Brandt
Adding with mock seriousness, “I would sleep on the sofa, naturally, as any good gentleman would.”
“I appreciate all of your concern, but we will be fine,” Amelie insisted.
“I hate to agree with him,” Matthew glared at Pierre, “but he has a point. You shouldn’t be alone.” Then, as if he could read Pierre’s mind, he added, “Not that I think it at all proper for Mr. Girald to spend the night here. I think you should come stay at our place, Amelie.”
Debbey smiled at her friend. “You and Elise can stay in my room with me.”
“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, Debbey, or any of your family, for that matter.”
“You know it’s no bother. You have stayed with us countless times before,” Debbey objected.
True. But it was before Matthew made his intentions known towards her. Now, she tried to avoid him whenever possible. Staying in his home as a guest would make it impossible.
Trying to convince herself as much as everyone else, Amelie maintained, “We really will be fine here, I assure you.”
“How did the burglars get in here in the first place?” Matthew asked.
Amelie nodded towards the front door. “It was ajar when we got home. The lock has been sticking for some time. It’s possible in our hasty departure this morning, I may have not latched the lock properly.”
“If that is the case, I won’t be able to rest until it’s fixed. Let me go get my tools and I’ll see what I can do.”
Amelie nodded. She didn’t have the energy to debate the matter, and she would feel safer knowing the door was fixed.
Glancing at Pierre, Matthew insisted, “I think you should come with me, Mr. Girald. I haven’t got a chance to ‘thank you’ properly for saving Amelie.”
A wry smile formed on Pierre’s face, as he indifferently shrugged. “If you insist.” Standing up, Pierre stated, “I will be back momentarily. William, take care of the women while we are absent.”
Matthew handed his rifle to William. “You know how to handle one of these, right?”
“Absolutely. I was an expert marksman on our hunting team while at university,” William stated with a prideful smile.
With a stern look, Matthew admonished, “Shooting a person is very different than shooting at targets.”
Sobering from the grave nature of his responsibility, William wiped the grin from his face. “Right. I agree. I will take the matter quite seriously.”
As the two men headed towards the door, Amelie wondered why Matthew asked Pierre to go with him and even more surprising, why Pierre went with him. She had a bad feeling about it. She hoped both of them came back, neither of them with any bruises to show for it.
As the two men made their way towards the McCoy home, there was an awkward stiffness between them.
After a few moments, Matthew broke the silence. “What are your intentions with Amelie?”
“Pardon? What is it of your concern?”
“Because I plan to make her my wife. I refuse to allow someone like you to come in as a distraction and cause a problem.”
“Is she aware of your plan to make her your wife?”
“I have made my intentions known.”
“And what exactly was her response?”
Matthew stopped walking and turned to face Pierre. “She just lost her parents. I am not pressuring her to make any decision until she is ready.”
“If she has not immediately answered yes, I think you have your answer. If you entertain any other idea, you are fooling yourself.”
Shaking his head, Matthew commanded, “I’m warning you, just this once, to stay away from Amelie.”
“I think I will allow the lady in question to decide whether I stay away.”
A frustrated rumble emanated from Matthew. “You are a bit of an intolerable person; do you know that?”
“I have been told as such on more than one occasion. I find I am an acquired taste.”
Matthew turned and began walking again, as he declared, “Well, I am not bowing out, just so you know.”
With his long gait, Pierre swiftly caught up with him, asserting, “It seems we are at an impasse then. We should agree to behave like gentleman, for Amelie’s sake.”
“I pride myself on being respectful. I won’t allow you to cause me to be any other way.”
“Good. Glad that is settled.”
Gesturing to his home, Matthew stated, “We are here. Wait outside while I get my tools.”
Pierre watched as the other man, his junior he guessed by a few years, marched himself into the McCoy house. He found it difficult to imagine Amelie with the likes of him. His immaturity was evident from his actions. He seemed to be more preoccupied with obtaining a wife rather than appreciating a woman. Amelie was smart and complex, brave and independent, and Matthew didn’t seem to see any of those qualities.
Aware of the way Amelie reacted when Pierre was near her, especially when he touched her, he knew there was an undeniable magnetism between them. Completely the opposite from every exchange he saw between Matthew and Amelie. There was no spark present. Pierre truly believed there needed to be a spark to make a relationship work. He had only felt it one other time in his life until he met Amelie. He was not about to give it up because some boy postulated his right to her.
To Amelie’s relief, the men arrived back at the house unscathed. Matthew was able to fix the door’s lock within a few minutes, and after everyone departed, Amelie searched the house to see what the thieves had taken.
Apparently, they started upstairs before she got home. All of her mother’s jewelry, her father’s gold coins and watch, along with the last bit of money she had in her undergarment drawer were all gone. She had been saving the money to pay the delinquent bills. Now she had no idea where the money was going to come from to pay them.
Amelie allowed herself to cry for a few minutes over her situation. She knew she needed to seek God to intervene. Dear Lord, I know I keep asking the same thing, but I am so worried about how I am going to provide for myself and Elise if we lose the bakery. I don’t want to ruin my parents’ legacy or be forced to leave West Linn. Oh, Lord, please help me find a way to come up with the money to take care of the bills.
Amelie forced herself to clean up the mess the intruders had made while they ransacked her house. Two hours later, she was able to settle in on the parlor sofa with a cup of warm tea and a copy of Charles Dicken’s, David Copperfield, hoping to take her mind of the day’s events. Although the book was intriguing, Amelie continued to find her mind drifting back to her stolen moments alone with Pierre.
It had caught her completely off-guard. She had no idea it was possible to feel such sensations for anyone; let alone someone she had talked to only a handful of times. It flustered her to know he could have such an effect on her, and even more upsetting was the fact she liked it.
As Amelie contemplated the day’s events, she realized one unsurmountable truth. She would never be happy if she settled for Matthew. She knew now she could never see him as more than a friend.
Chapter 7
It was a sunny Wednesday morning as Amelie approached the office for the Willamette Falls Mill. Amelie pushed the door open with her back as she carefully held on to the bi-weekly delivery of baked goods for the staff. Since as far back as she could remember, Mr. Moore requested the same order to have on hand for his workers.
Many of the mill workers frequented Amelie’s bakery and they often complimented Mr. Moore as a boss. Although he ran his business with a strict hand, he paid an honest wage, provided a safe and clean working environment, and liked to treat his workers well; resulting in their happiness.
As Amelie glanced around the front room, she noticed nobody was present. Surprisingly, Mr. Moore’s secretary, Mrs. Wilcox, was not at her usual spot at the front desk. Had they changed the time of the delivery? She thought about it for several seconds, but was positive she had come at the right time.
As she approached the back part
of the building, she heard laughter traveling her way. Although a fair boss and good Christian, Mr. Moore was a serious man. In all the time she had known him, she was sure she never heard him so much as snicker. However, as she walked down the hall to the back of the building and rounded the corner, to her astonishment, she found him laughing so hard, he was bright red and shaking from amusement.
What could have caused such a reaction in so serious a man? Amelie wondered. As her eyes shifted next to Mr. Moore, she noticed he wasn’t the only one amused. Mrs. Wilcox stood by him, with a notepad and pen in hand. Her normally stern face was softened by laugh lines and mirth in her eyes.
A few feet away from them, the culprits of the amusement finally came into focus. William and Pierre were present, with William leaning against the long draft table in the center of the room and Pierre standing next to him.
“And that my good friend, is how Pierre Girald, the Vidame of Demoulin, and I, escaped from the Spanish navy.”
“I say, Mr. Almonbury, you and your friend have lived quite an extraordinary life. To think, if they had actually boarded your ship, they would have found all those crates of illegal libations.”
“Illegal by Spain’s definition. Pierre won them fair and square in a game of chance. We had no idea it was illegal to take them out of Spain until the captain of the ship explained we would be spending a hefty amount of time in prison if we were caught.”
Feeling awkward from eavesdropping on their conversation, Amelie shifted on her feet, debating how she should make her presence known. Normally, she would leave the pastries in the front, but Mrs. Wilcox had not been there to pay for them. Humiliating as it was, she needed the payment for the pastries to have enough money to pay for supplies next week. She hated having to live so tightly, from sale to sale, but between the incidents at the business and what the burglars took the night before, Amelie was literally down to her last penny.
Before she could make a decision, she heard Mrs. Wilcox say, “Miss Leclaire, what are you doing just standing there? Come in, dear.”
Amelie nodded and made her way into the room. “Where would you like me to place these, Mrs. Wilcox?”
“Just put them on the table there,” she ordered, as she gestured to the drafting table.
Not sure what to do, or how to bring up the payment, Amelie hesitated after placing the two boxes of pastries down. As she turned around, she could hear Mr. Moore say, “Don’t forget to pay the girl, Mrs. Wilcox. Consider all she has been through lately; we want to make sure she receives her payment on time from us.”
A feeling of reprieve washed over Amelie as Mrs. Wilcox stated, “Wait here while I go get your payment from the petty cash.”
“Miss Leclaire, I heard what happened on Sunday. How are you and your sister fairing?” Mr. Moore asked, as he looked at her with concern.
Amelie’s eyes darted to William and Pierre and narrowed with an accusing stare.
William shook his head. “He did not hear it from us. We are here on business.”
“I’m sure,” Amelie commented sarcastically. “And how exactly, did the Spanish navy factor into your business discussion, Mr. Almonbury?”
Chuckling, he replied, “You have me there, Miss Leclaire. That bit of conversation was for entertainment. It does not change the fact we did not discuss the incident from the other night.”
Amelie turned her attention to Pierre, who was remaining rather quiet, contrary to his nature. “Is that so? Do you confirm your friend’s account of what transpired this morning?”
“Miss Leclaire, you can stop badgering these men. I heard what happened from Pastor McCoy. He stopped by earlier this week to ask for my help on a refurbishment project for the church.”
Oh, my, why did I just do that? Amelie chastised herself. Why did she think they would care to spread her personal business to anyone? She barely knew the men, and yet, she thought the worst of their character.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, for making a wrong assumption.”
“It is quite alright, Miss Leclaire. You need not apologize to us. It was a natural place for your thoughts to land,” William stated.
Pierre had still not spoken since her arrival. He had been watching her since her presence had become known, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking from his flat expression.
“As to your question, Mr. Moore, we are doing satisfactory. I appreciate your concern,” Amelie finally answered.
“I hope the incident hasn’t created too much of a problem for you. I do hope you will still be able to attend the party at our home on Saturday evening?”
Even if Amelie did feel she had too much going on, she would never disappoint Mrs. Moore by not attending. “I have everything under control and I wouldn’t miss your party. I look forward to it every year. Mrs. Moore is wonderful at making it an enjoyable event.”
James Moore was the son of Major Robert Moore, leader of the Peoria Party, who traveled over the Oregon Trail from Illinois. As one of the first pioneers in Oregon, his father established a town at Willamette Falls in 1843, calling it Robin’s Nest. Later, it was renamed Linn City after the Illinois state senator. It was a thriving settlement until a fire in 1860, followed by the great flood of 1861, completely destroyed the town.
Most of the families who lived in the original Linn City scattered to surrounding areas, but the Moore family chose to stay behind and rebuild. Amelie’s family, along with the McCoy clan, also chose to stay. It was one of the reasons the Moore, McCoy and Leclaire families were so close. The new settlement was called West Linn and their families were pivotal in the restoration and new development of the town.
Mr. Moore owned the Willamette Falls Mill and the Willamette River Ferry Company, which brought commerce back into the town. The McCoy family took care of the spiritual needs of the community through the church, and the establishment of the Oregon Bible Society. Her family established the local bakery, and her father had been the head of the Chamber of Commerce. Together, the three families became the pillars of the town. In order to celebrate the revival of West Linn, the Moore family invited the whole town to their home for an annual party in the summer.
“I’m glad to hear it, Miss Leclaire,” Mr. Moore stated, as he turned to face the two men in the room. “And are both of you coming as well?”
“We would be honored, Mr. Moore.” Then William asked, trying to sound blasé, “I was wondering if the McCoys will be in attendance?”
Amelie smiled as she realized he was asking because he must want to know if Debbey would be there. He was indeed interested in her friend.
Mr. Moore nodded and stated, “The McCoys are planning on attending. They come every year.” He looked over at Amelie, and deferred. “I’m sure you would know more details, since you are good friends with the McCoy girl.”
“Debbey has been talking about it for weeks. It’s her favorite event of the year. They wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Amelie confirmed.
A grin crossed William’s face as he acclaimed, “I am glad to hear it. It will be nice to see her again.”
Just then Mrs. Wilcox returned, carrying an envelope in her hand. She passed it to Amelie, saying, “Here is the money for the delivery. We appreciate you bringing the pastries.”
“Certainly. I appreciate your patronage.”
“I have to say, I wondered if you would be able to keep the bakery running or maintain your parents’ quality, but you most certainly have their talent for creating superb baked goods.” A sadness appeared in Mr. Moore’s eyes, as he added, “They would be very proud of you, my girl.”
Amelie forced herself to keep from showing the impact his words had on her. She knew everyone had good intentions when bringing up her parents, but it was difficult trying to hide the pain from the loss.
“Thank you, Mr. Moore. I’m glad you’re happy with the pastries.”
Mr. Moore turned his attention back to William and Pierre. “Gentlemen, I would like to take you outside and show you what your in
vestment in the mill stands to create in productivity.”
Both men nodded, and for the first time, Pierre spoke up. “If you will give me a moment, I would like to escort Miss Leclaire out.”
“Of course, Mr. Girald. It will give me time to answer the questions Mr. Almonbury had about the next phase in construction for the Willamette Falls canal and locks.”
As Amelie and Pierre made their way down the hall towards the exit, Pierre insisted, “I would have come by sooner to check on you, but I had some rather unsettling personal business come up.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shook his head. “No, I found out Monday morning my investigator back in France was found dead. He had been missing for some time. I immediately hired someone to look for him, suspecting something had gone wrong with his last assignment, but we never found him.
“They are ruling it a homicide, and I have been making inquiries into what happened. It seems he had been tortured for information. He had been looking into some matters for me; I suspect it may have been what got him killed.”
“I am sorry to hear that, the poor man. I hope they find who did this to him and make sure they are unable to do it to anyone else.”
“I have a rather certain idea as to who was to blame, which is one of the other reasons I was unavailable. I needed to send word to warn my cousin, Jackie, and close friend they were possibly in danger.”
“Does that mean you are leaving to go help them?” Amelie asked, worried he would be leaving West Linn.
Pierre’s attitude shifted and a wounded look entered his eyes. “No, they have husbands to protect them now. My days of being their guardian has long since passed.”
Amelie could tell there was more to the story than what he was revealing, but she also knew she didn’t have a right to press him about it. “I hope it all works out, Pierre.”
“Forgive me. I should not have divulged such details, but I tend to forget my manners when I am with you. I only wanted you to understand what has kept me from checking on you over the past two days. My plans were to come by the bakery this afternoon.”