Mail Order Mommy

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Mail Order Mommy Page 7

by Christine Johnson


  “I don’t trust anyone else,” Sawyer had told him when Garrett hesitated.

  The man must not have realized Fiona’s ambitions toward Garrett, or he would never have asked the favor.

  At the time, Garrett couldn’t find a single reason to object, so he’d agreed. It wasn’t that he felt anything for Fiona. True, they’d dined together on occasion at the hotel, but they were just good friends. At least that’s what he told himself.

  Fiona’s actions revealed just how wrong he was. She’d made a point of besting Amanda over the animals for the nativity play. Maybe he should have agreed with Pearl’s idea to make stuffed animals, but it had seemed like far too much work for Amanda, who was already helping at the school, working for him and making the costumes for the play. He’d wanted to ease her burden, but instead he’d paved the way for Fiona to triumph over Amanda.

  The walk to the hotel dining room was uncomfortable. Fiona chattered on. He heard little of it, since he couldn’t get the image of Amanda’s disappointment out of his mind. She deserved better treatment. She at least deserved an explanation, but would she listen? He could kick himself for not warning her before Fiona swooped in.

  “...and coffee, won’t you, Garrett, dear?” Fiona asked.

  Garrett caught only those last few words. Embarrassed, he stumbled over a reply. “Can’t say. The children will want to go home.”

  “But Garrett, they are home. You told me yourself that you lived above the store for a year and a half. That must seem more like home than the new house.”

  Garrett thought back to the last few evenings. Isaac and Sadie seemed to have adjusted admirably, especially when Amanda was there. They hung on her every word, even if they didn’t always obey.

  “They like the new house.”

  “I’m sure they do, but a few minutes for a wee slice of pie and cup of coffee won’t upset them too much. They are going to have supper with their uncle and soon-to-be aunt, aren’t they?”

  He nodded glumly. Pearl had insisted on that much. That meant no pleasant evening playing marbles or jackstraws with the children after supper. Amanda had suggested he participate in the activity, and yesterday he’d convinced her to join them. Amanda!

  He halted. “I forgot to tell Amanda that she wouldn’t need to cook.” He looked back at the boardinghouse. “I should tell her. I’ll run back after we reach the hotel.”

  Fiona pouted. Though the light was low, he could see that much. “You’re not going to listen to my concert?”

  “Of course I will. Once I return.” A brilliant thought popped into his head, one that would put the perfect buffer between Fiona and him. “Hopefully, Amanda will join us.”

  * * *

  “You want me to go where?” Amanda stopped working the treadle long enough to stare at Garrett. Surely he had not said what she thought he’d said.

  “Join me at the concert. Miss O’Keefe is singing.”

  Fiona always sang at the Saturday concerts.

  Amanda turned back to her sewing. “I don’t know. There’s so much to do.”

  “The curtains can wait.”

  She glanced at him again. He’d sounded like he was pleading. “But you escorted Fiona. What happened?” No small part of her hoped he’d say that they’d had an argument or that Fiona had switched her affections to a different man.

  “Oh, that.” His laugh sounded forced. “Sawyer Evans asked me to make sure she got safely to the hotel and back, since he wasn’t going to be here.”

  That sounded reasonable, except for Garrett’s formal attire and Fiona’s obvious attempts to link herself to him. Perhaps they felt sorry for her, or maybe Fiona wanted to rub in her victory just a little more. Either way, Amanda did not care to become the butt of whatever was going on between the two of them.

  “I believe I will continue working.”

  Garrett put a hand on the fabric, stopping her sewing. “Please join me. Join us.”

  “I don’t care to be the third wheel on a cart.”

  “There is no relationship between Miss O’Keefe and myself. At least not the kind you’re thinking.”

  He did sound and look sincere, but Amanda had been fooled by seeming sincerity before. Hadn’t Hugh professed undying love? Hadn’t he promised a lifetime together? She would not tread that path again.

  “I am not dressed for the occasion.” She glanced at the mantel clock. “The concert will soon begin.”

  “You’re beautiful.” The sucking in of his breath told her that he hadn’t meant such a bald declaration. “That is, your gown is perfect. Quite acceptable.”

  “Not as beautiful as Fiona’s.”

  “I’m not fond of bright colors.”

  She couldn’t help taking a jab. “Are you talking about curtains or clothing?”

  “Both, I suppose.” Passion hid behind those words.

  She averted her face. “The answer is still no.”

  “It will only be a short while, and then we can pick up the children at the store before heading back to the house.”

  She nibbled on her lip. “I do need to prepare their supper.”

  “No, you don’t. That’s what I should have told you earlier. Roland and Pearl are making supper for the children. We can eat at the hotel.”

  Her stomach churned. “Fiona will join us?”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I do owe you a decent meal after neglecting to inform you of the change of plans.”

  Her resistance was slowly eroding. It would be lovely to dine with Garrett in front of everyone. Perhaps that would put to rest the niggling doubt that he and Fiona truly weren’t courting. And then she and Garrett would fetch the children. Together. Like a couple. The enticement was almost enough. Almost. The hovering threat of Fiona could spoil everything.

  Amanda drew in a deep breath. “Since Roland and Pearl are watching the children, you don’t need me at all tonight.”

  He stiffened, and his hand came off the fabric. She straightened it into the sewing machine’s feed.

  He cleared his throat. “Actually, I do.”

  The ragged declaration shivered down her spine. He needed her.

  “You do?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” His gaze did not flinch, even when she met it.

  She wanted to believe him, truly she did, but to appear in public as if courting might spark speculation and gossip. It would certainly inflame the animosity between Fiona and herself.

  “I—I shouldn’t.” But it would take only one more bit of persuasion to convince her.

  Garrett supplied it. “I’ve changed my mind about the animals in the pageant. If you think you can make them, we will use stuffed animals.”

  “Oh! The children will be so pleased.”

  “You’ll need all the time you can get, though. We could get the fabrics you need when we fetch Isaac and Sadie.”

  “We could.” She dropped the curtain fabric and rose to her feet, the ideas swirling in her head. “Some sheep’s wool or cotton will make them look even more like lambs. Oh, they’ll be perfect, just perfect.”

  “Yes, they will.”

  Only then did she realize that she stood mere inches from Garrett. She drew in her breath sharply, suddenly aware of the scents of soap and freshly hewn timber that were uniquely Garrett’s. She was several inches shorter than him, yet his lips were all too close. Her pulse raced. Would he?

  She held her breath.

  “Amanda!” Mrs. Calloway’s voice pierced the moment.

  Garrett backed away, his complexion red, and stared out the window. Amanda smoothed her skirts and attempted to regain her composure before Mrs. Calloway stormed into the room.

  “Oh, there you are,” the boardinghouse proprietress said as she entered. “We’ve all decided to attend the concert, s
o supper will be held until afterward.” She looked from Garrett to Amanda and back again. Then a grin curved her lips. “You’re welcome to join us, Mr. Garrett.”

  He bowed slightly, the dour expression back. “I thank you, but I have other plans, providing Miss Amanda will agree to join me for the evening.”

  Amanda felt her own cheeks blaze. “I should help you, Mrs. Calloway.”

  The woman waved off her concern. “Nonsense, there are only the four of us, rather like family. Go and enjoy yourselves.” She bustled from the room.

  That left Amanda alone with Garrett. She touched her hair. It all seemed in place. “Let me get my hat and gloves from upstairs.”

  “Of course.” Garrett smiled, sending warmth clear to her toes.

  He’d chosen her. Over Fiona. Over everyone.

  Chapter Seven

  If not for Fiona’s presence at the dining table and her obvious attempts to divert Garrett’s attention from Amanda, the evening would have been perfect. Amanda took comfort and even delight in the fact that Garrett looked to her with a shrug whenever Fiona attempted to take charge of the conversation. It felt like they shared a secret pact to humor the redhead because they were sure of their own position with each other. That made Amanda’s heart soar.

  The concert was lovely, and she regretted missing so many simply to avoid her fiery competitor. She had heard Fiona sing in church services, but with the variety of songs and performers, the evening brought laughter and smiles to everyone. Amanda had never imagined there were that many musicians in Singapore.

  “Your voice is so beautiful,” she told Fiona. “I could listen to it all day.”

  The compliment smoothed the redhead’s competitive edge. Fiona might not be a friend, but she no longer acted like an enemy. Amanda must remember that. Perhaps inviting Fiona to join them more often would end the hostilities. She and Pearl had too often excluded and avoided her.

  “I like the banjo,” Garrett said between bites of squash pie.

  Amanda found that instrument a bit strident for her taste, but when mingled with the harmonica, violin and even the odd sounds made on a washboard, she found the whole effect oddly pleasing.

  “I wish I could play an instrument,” she sighed.

  “I play piano,” Fiona stated. “Every child should learn.”

  Amanda couldn’t forget the disastrous attempts Fiona had made to teach Sadie to sing. Piano would fare no better if the children were not interested, and she had seen no interest in music from either child.

  “I used to play harmonica,” Garrett said.

  “You did?” Amanda could not hide her surprise. “I had no idea.”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t played in years.”

  “Perhaps it’s time to start again.” Fiona leaned a bit closer to him. “I could accompany you on the piano.”

  Playing music with Garrett would create a bond that Amanda could never share. “I wish I could play.”

  Garrett smiled at her. “Maybe I’ll teach you harmonica one day.”

  Again her heart soared.

  “I have to warn you,” he added, “that I’m not very good.”

  “Your playing would sound wonderful to me.”

  “You’re being too modest,” Fiona interjected. She actually slid her chair a bit closer to Garrett. “You could teach me, too.”

  He did not lean away. In fact, he listened intently to her ideas.

  Amanda swallowed an unconscionable wave of envy. What right had she to be envious of Garrett’s choices? He could choose whomever he wished. She was, after all, only his housekeeper, a fact that she’d best remember. Hugh’s attentions had led her to think she might rise above her station. His cruel actions and subsequent dismissal put her squarely in her place. Better to lavish her attention on the children, who could not hurt her.

  “I love to learn new things,” Fiona was saying, her hand now resting on Garrett’s arm.

  He had turned dark red, tugging at the collar of his shirt and looking like a cornered rabbit. He obviously hated all this attention.

  “Perhaps we should get back to the children,” Amanda suggested.

  Though Garrett cast her a grateful look, Fiona pressed on. “I’m sure they’re having a fabulous time with their uncle. Shall we set a time to begin lessons?”

  This time Garrett didn’t meet Fiona’s eye. “I’m too busy right now to give lessons. The new ship. The nativity play. And spending time with my son and daughter.”

  “Of course.” Fiona smiled. “As you should. We can talk again after Christmas.”

  That seemed to resolve the situation, at least as far as Garrett was concerned, but Amanda could not shake the idea that Fiona was acting just like Lena. Amanda’s foster sister hadn’t shown the slightest interest in Hugh Bellchamp until he began paying attention to Amanda. Then he suddenly became the prize in Lena’s eyes. She would appear at the most inopportune times and drag Hugh away on the most ridiculous pretenses.

  Amanda should have paid attention to what was happening, but she’d told herself that Lena was only jealous and it would pass. It hadn’t. The day after that horrible night that changed her forever, Hugh had publicly declared his affection for Lena, completing her triumph over Amanda. Even so, Lena began complaining that Amanda was trying to steal her beau’s affections.

  Was Fiona the same type of woman? Or should Amanda extend the benefit of the doubt?

  Fiona was smiling at Garrett, who stared straight ahead as if the empty stage was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

  “We will spend a lot of time together making the animals for the pageant,” Fiona said.

  Amanda glanced at Garrett. He must not have told Fiona that plans had changed. When he said nothing in response, she began to wonder if they had at all. Or had Garrett merely promised she could make stuffed animals to get her to come to the concert with him? A flicker of anger grew. Hugh had used her for his own purposes. Was Garrett the same?

  She rose. “I must return home.”

  Garrett snapped out of that stoic trance. “I’ll escort you.”

  “But you’re escorting me,” Fiona protested.

  “We can all walk back to the boardinghouse together.” Garrett sounded apologetic, and he didn’t say one word about the change in plans.

  The flicker of anger grew to a flame. “You did say we could have Roland show us fabrics for the play.”

  Fiona looked from her to Garrett. “Fabrics? Oh, for the costumes.” Her smile grated on Amanda. “You’re the perfect person to make them. In your hands, they will look wonderful.”

  Amanda waited for Garrett to explain the real reason they needed to look at fabric. He tugged at his collar again and made a show of donning his coat, but he didn’t say one word about the change in plans.

  She could not bear it any longer. This time she would not wait until she was humiliated before questioning a man’s intentions. She blazed ahead.

  “We need to pick out material for the animals.”

  * * *

  Garrett cringed. What was wrong with Amanda? She must know how this would upset Fiona. He’d planned to gently break the news to the redhead, offering her a substitute role in order to keep the peace. He sure didn’t want all-out war. Judging from Fiona’s high color, that’s exactly what was about to happen.

  “You don’t need fabric for the animals,” Fiona said slowly, each word nailed down with the effort to control her temper. “I’m painting them.”

  Instead of replying, Amanda turned her focus on him. That drew Fiona’s ire his way also.

  “What is she saying, Garrett?” the redhead asked.

  He couldn’t help but notice that the remaining patrons in the dining room were listening to every word the trio uttered. Since they were standing in the middle
of the room, appearing ready to leave, this argument would provide endless fodder for gossip.

  “Let’s discuss this on the walk home.” He motioned for the ladies to precede him to the door, while he paid the amount due to Mrs. VanderLeuven.

  Neither lady budged.

  He extended an arm toward Amanda, who instead of accepting it crossed her own arms and glared at him. When he turned to Fiona, she snatched his elbow.

  “Tell her that she’s mistaken,” Fiona said as they swept out of the hotel.

  Garrett waited for Amanda to step onto the wooden porch before closing the door behind them. For an establishment with such an elegant name, Astor House, it could at least refresh the paint on the front door. Instead, it was chipped and peeling, just like the whitewash on the porch railings.

  “I’m waiting,” Fiona stated once they’d descended the few steps. “You promised I could paint the stable animals for the pageant.”

  He searched for another duty for her. “You will be singing.”

  “Of course I will. That has nothing to do with helping you create the setting for the show.”

  Garrett had to bite his tongue at that last word. He didn’t consider reenacting the story of Jesus’s birth as a “show.” There was something sacred about it, reverent, even though children would be playing the roles.

  “The setting,” Amanda cried. “Of course. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to show the whole setting? Fiona, do you think you would be able to paint a starry night sky with the star of Bethlehem over the stable?”

  “Of course, but it’s so simple,” the redhead replied.

  Garrett just wished they would move away from the front of the hotel. The dining room guests were now filing out, their steps slower than normal as they no doubt listened in on the conversation.

  He took each woman by the elbow. “Perhaps we should discuss the particulars with Pearl. She is in charge.”

  Though the women came with him on the boardwalk, they didn’t stop their discussion.

  “You could add the sort of trees and plants that grow in the area,” Amanda suggested.

 

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