by Kit Morgan
His mother took his hand and gave it a pat. “Take your time in choosing a bride, son. Make sure you consider everything before making your final choice.” She glanced across the street as Bernice headed down the boardwalk toward the mercantile. “I’ll support your decision, whatever it is,” she added hesitantly.
“Thanks, Ma, I appreciate it.”
“You do what you need to do, even if you have to go all the way to Oregon City or Portland for a bride. Or even send away for one.”
“I’ll consider what’s here in town first.”
“I’m glad,” she said with a smile. “Now, let’s get on home and see what your father is up to, shall we?”
Julian held an arm out to her. She took it, and he escorted her home.
* * *
The next day Julian hitched up the wagon, and he and his mother went to pick up Ellie at the Brocks’. He knocked on the door and she answered it. “Oh!” she said in surprise. “Good morning, Mr. Smythe.”
“Good morning, Ellie.” He wanted them on a first-name basis again. “My mother’s asked me to drive the two of you out to the Edmonson farm this morning. Are you ready?”
She looked over her shoulder, then back. “Yes, I suppose so. Let me get my shawl.” She disappeared behind the door a moment, and re-emerged with her shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
“Is that going to keep you warm enough? We may be spending some time out at the Edmonsons’ barn.”
“It’ll be fine,” she insisted.
He looked at the thin material and frowned. He knew it wouldn’t be enough, and had the sudden urge to march her down to the mercantile and buy her a coat. But how awkward would that be? Especially after the way she’d hightailed it out of the bookshop yesterday...
She quickly closed the door and hurried over to the wagon. By the time he got there she was already trying to climb up. “Here, let me help you.”
She turned and looked at him, swallowed hard and nodded.
He felt her tremble as he helped her onto the wagon seat. Was she nervous? He climbed up himself and sat next to her. “Right then, here we go.”
“I’ve brought some paper and a pencil to take notes,” said his mother. “I figure we’ll have to make a list of everything that’ll need to be moved in order to make room.”
“What if they say no?” Julian asked.
“No?” his mother said aghast. “Why on earth would they?”
Julian shrugged. “You never know, Ma, it could happen. We can’t assume that they won’t mind having the whole town in their barn on Valentine’s night. It’s a lot of work, you know.”
“I think it’s just what they need,” his mother said.
Ellie looked between the two. “How many children do they have?”
The sound of her voice warmed Julian and he smiled. “A lot – five, six? Good grief, I can’t remember!”
“Seven – she just had the youngest in June – and they keep poor Mrs. Edmonson busy from sunup to sundown,” commented his mother. “Which is why she’ll need plenty of help the night of the dance too. After all, everyone else will be bringing their own children. Good heavens! Now that I think of it, there will be little ones everywhere!”
“You’re right,” Julian said. “The place will be overrun.”
“I do hope you enjoy children, dear,” she told Ellie.
Julian felt her stiffen next to him. “I do,” she said softly.
Did she? Maybe they made her nervous, and that was why she’d trembled earlier. Or was it just from the cold? Yes, he’d see about getting her a good coat when they got back to town. Whether she wanted one or not. That shawl of hers wasn’t going to last her the winter.
It didn’t take long for them to reach the Edmonson farm, and even if Mr. Edmonson wasn’t around, he was sure Mrs. Edmonson would be happy to let them take a look at the barn. After seeing how much fun she and the children had during the Christmas pageant, he was sure she’d be agreeable to the town using the barn. Her husband, he wasn’t sure about.
He helped the women down from the wagon and the three of them strode to the house, up the steps to the porch, and knocked on the door.
A little girl answered. “Hello,” she said as she stared up at them with big blue eyes.
“Err…… Lily?” He hoped he could remember all their names – it was easy to get them mixed up.
Her eyes widened. “Did somebody die?” she asked as she peered past him.
Julian frowned in confusion a moment, then laughed. “No, sweetheart, nobody died. That’s not why we’re here.”
The child visibly relaxed. “Oh, good! Because if someone died, it ain’t no one from here. Everybody was alive last time I looked, Mr. Julian.”
He laughed, then noticed the confused look on Ellie’s face. He leaned toward her. “Lily is old enough to know that we’re the undertakers in town.”
“Ohhh,” she said with a smile, and nodded in understanding.
“Is your ma home, Lily? Julian asked.
“Sure is. She’s in the kitchen. She’s making us cookies!” Without another word the child turned and ran into the house, leaving the three on the doorstep.
Julian looked at Ellie and squared his shoulders. “Brace yourself, here we go.” She gave him a halfhearted smile and he made a mental note to watch her. His mother was right – he did need to think carefully when it came to a wife. No matter how attracted he was to Ellie Sampson – and boy, was he! – he had to take into consideration things such as children. If she didn’t like them, he’d have to consider other prospects – like Portland or Oregon City, or (God forbid) Bernice …
“Don’t just stand there, Julian – let’s go in!” his mother chided as she gave him a shove.
“Sorry,” he said and got moving. He led them down the hall into the kitchen, and stopped short. The sight that greeted him wasn’t what he’d expected. Normally the Edmonson household was in utter chaos, but not today – the children were seated around the kitchen table all helping with the cookie-making process. The kitchen itself was clean and orderly. Mrs. Edmonson, too, looked happy and content, not her usual haggard self.
It was then Julian realized he hadn’t come out to the Edmonson place in a long time. His mind had still been on last summer’s trials and tribulations, and he silently chastised himself for not thinking about the family much since then. Independence was such a small town that there was no excuse for not considering your neighbor unless they didn’t want you to.
He looked at Ellie as she took in the seven children and their mother happily sharing in the simple task of baking. What, he wondered, could be going through her mind right now? Good grief, what if he married her and they had seven children? Garrett would be so jealous …
“Mrs. Smythe, Mr. Smythe – it’s plumb nice to see you!” Mrs. Edmonson gushed. “What brings you out this way?” She shoved a lock of hair out of her face, and, baby on hip, crossed the kitchen to where they stood. “How are you? Come in, come in! I’ll put on some coffee.”
“That would be lovely,” Maude said. “You must not have heard the news.”
“What news?”
Julian’s mother stood proudly and smiled. “Well, Mrs. Vander and a few of us have come up with the brilliant idea of holding a Valentine’s dance.”
Mrs. Edmonson smiled. “A dance? When? Where?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Julian said. “Naturally the dance will be held on Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah, I reckon so,” Mrs. Edmonson said with a laugh.
“And we were wondering,” added his mother. “If we could host the dance here on your farm?”
Mrs. Edmonson took a step or two back, her mouth opened in shock. “Here? On our farm? But, but how?”
“Your barn,” Julian suggested. “Of course, everyone will pitch in to help get it ready.”
“And the town council will give you folks the money to rent it.”
Mrs. Edmonson sat on the nearest chair and repositioned the ba
by in front of her. She unconsciously began to bounce the child in her lap as she stared across the room. “A dance … here?”
“If you think it’s too much trouble for you,” began Ellie. “I’m sure we can find someplace else.”
Julian’s mother gave Ellie a sideways glance, then returned her attention to Mrs. Edmonson. “But your barn is the largest and closest to town, so it’d be ideal. Might we have a look at it?”
Mrs. Edmonson nodded. “Yes, of course. But I’m not sure what Mr. Edmonson will think …” She appeared to have been in shock ever since the word “rent” had reached her ears.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Julian said.
“Gabe, Eldon,” Mrs. Edmonson said, and two boys looked up at her from the table. Julian’s eyes darted between the children and Ellie as Mrs. Edmonson told the boys to watch the younger children. She then turned back to Julian. “Let me get my coat and I’ll show you everything.” She stood, the baby in her arms.
“Here,” Julian said. “Let me take her.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll be right back.”
Mrs. Edmonson left the kitchen as Julian turned to Ellie. “Isn’t she cute?” he asked as he held the baby before her.
Ellie nodded as she gazed at the child.
“Here,” he said as he held the baby out to her. “Go ahead, take her.”
Ellie gasped as he put the child in her arms before she could answer. “She’s adorable,” she whispered.
Hmmm, Julian mused. Was she uncomfortable holding the child? Maybe he shouldn’t have just shoved her into her arms like that. But how else was he going to find out if she liked children are not? Garrett hoped to have a houseful, and Julian and Morgan weren’t far behind him.
Ellie looked at the children happily sitting around the table and nodded. “Are there any more?”
Mrs. Smythe laughed. “No, this is it. Just the seven.”
“Just the seven,” Ellie repeated with a chuckle. “And you’re the youngest, I suppose?” she cooed to the baby in her arms.
“Yes, I believe so,” Julian said. “What’s her name again, Ma?”
“Good heavens, but I believe it’s … Elsa – no that’s not it ... Ella!”
“Well, that’s very close to my name,” Ellie said to the child.
Mrs. Edmonson reentered the kitchen and put on her coat. “I’m ready – let’s go.”
“You go with her Ma,” Julian said. “Ellie and I will look after the children.”
“Let Ellie stay. You’re a better judge of how many men it will take to help us get the barn ready if Mr. Edmonson decides we can use it.”
Julian cast a quick glance at Ellie, noted the smile on her face as she bounced the baby in her arms, and grinned. “Sure, Ma. I’ll be right there.”
Eleven
As it turned out, Mr. Edmonson thought the use of his barn for a town dance was a splendid idea – and quickly agreed with Mrs. Smythe on what the rent for the night would be. Mercy, Martha, Maude and Mahulda set to work.
The event was all anyone in town could talk about for the next week and a half, and Ellie was beginning to get nervous. After all, if she didn’t leave soon, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She might have to write Oregon City again. If her calculations were correct, the couple she’d left Davey with would be showing up soon to give him to her. She’d have to stop them from coming if she planned on going back.
The problem was, she didn’t want to leave.
Independence was a lively little place, abuzz with everyone preparing for the Valentine dance. Everyone was happy and looking forward to it. She could get used to living in a place like this, which meant she was going to have to come clean about her son if she planned to stay. She just didn’t know who to talk to … or how.
“You gonna stand there all day or take them cookies into the parlor?”
Ellie jumped. “I’m sorry,” she told Betsy. “I won’t let it happen again.”
Betsy put her hands on her hips. “What has gotten into you lately?”
“N-nothing.”
“Mm-hmm. Heard that before. Best get them cookies into the other room before Mrs. Vander busts a gut. Them ladies from town are bouncing all over the place with crazy ideas for the dance. Someone’s gotta go rescue her.”
Ellie giggled. “That Mrs. Peatman is quite something.”
“Oh, she don’t hold a candle to Mrs. Caulder.” Betsy pushed the tip of her nose up, and Ellie snickered. “Now go on in there, unless you’d rather I do it?”
“No, I will.”
“Don’t let that Eunice Caulder or none of them other ladies make any remarks about you.”
“Remarks?”
“Remember the day Mrs. Caulder wouldn’t take tea with you sitting there?”
Ellie shuddered. “Oh yes, that. Don’t worry, I won’t.” She took a tray of cookies from the work table, and left the kitchen. There were some things about Independence she’d forgotten about in all the hustle and bustle of helping Mrs. Vander and her committee get ready for the dance – and Mrs. Caulder had been one of them. She also hadn’t seen much of Julian lately, and wondered when she might come across him again.
“There you are, dear,” Mercy said. “Set the tray down on the table, then tell us what you think.”
Ellie did as she asked then turned to her. “Think?”
“About our ideas for the decorations,” Mercy told her. “Of course there’s the usual red and white, but I think we should add pink and yellow.”
“Yellow?” barked Mrs. Caulder. “Whoever heard of using yellow for Valentine’s?”
“What about black?” added Maude.
Mrs. Caulder rolled her eyes. “Why does that not surprise me, coming from you?”
“Why not? It makes a good backdrop for the red and white,” Maude said.
“You associate everything with death,” huffed Mrs. Caulder. “Really, must we be reminded of such a horrid thing during a festive occasion?”
“I was merely suggesting it as a background color!” argued Maude.
“Undertakers …,” Mrs. Caulder muttered under her breath. “If it wasn’t for Bernice I’d…”
Maude’s eyes narrowed. “You’d what?”
“Never mind,” Eunice Caulder said and grabbed a cookie off the tray. She looked up at Ellie. “What are you still doing here?”
Ellie stared back. “Mrs. Vander asked me a question.
“Then why haven’t you answered it? What are you, slow?”
Ellie took a deep breath. “I haven’t answered yet because you were too busy talking,” she said in her most pleasant voice.
“What?!” Eunice spat. “Mercy! Why do you tolerate such insubordination from a servant?”
“You were the one doing all the talking,” Mercy pointed out. “And I did ask Ellie a question. Can the girl help it if she’s polite?” She turned to Ellie. “What do you think, dear? Add the yellow?”
Ellie swallowed. “Well … yellow paper flowers might look nice.”
Mercy smiled in satisfaction. “A wonderful idea, dear.”
“But I agree that black probably wouldn’t look right for the occasion, even as just a backdrop. Maybe a dark red instead.”
Mrs. Caulder, feeling somewhat vindicated, nodded firmly just as a knock sounded at the door. Mercy nodded at Ellie and she went to answer it. It was Julian … with Bernice Caulder welded to his side. She swallowed hard as her heart sank. “Good afternoon. Won’t you come in?”
“Don’t mind if we do,” he said and ushered Bernice through the door. Ellie didn’t wait for him to say anything more, instead retreating to the parlor. “Your son is here, Mrs. Smythe.” She turned to Mrs. Caulder. “And your daughter, Mrs. Caulder.”
“Ah, the happy couple. I’m so glad,” Mrs. Caulder preened. “They’ll be the talk of the dance, I’m sure.”
Ellie’s heart dropped another notch. Now she knew why she hadn’t seen Julian since their visit to the Edmonson farm. He’d been spending
all his time with Bernice. Well, he had asked Ellie if he could court her … but then she’d fled like a scared rabbit. So he’d moved on – whose fault was that?
They entered the parlor after removing their coats. Ellie had been so upset at the sight of Bernice on Julian’s arm that she forgot to offer to take them. She was even more upset to see that Bernice was still hanging onto him. She took a deep breath and fought the urge to bolt for the kitchen – or the Columbia River.
Julian’s mother scooted over on the settee to make room for them to sit down “Sorry we’re late,” he told her. “But we were held up at the bookshop.”
“Quite all right. How are your dancing lessons coming along?” Mrs. Caulder asked Bernice. “You’ll make quite the fetching pair at the dance.”
Ellie swallowed again. Dancing lessons? He and Bernice were taking dancing lessons? A chill went up her spine at the thought.
“They’ve been very helpful,” Bernice said dutifully. “I’m enjoying them immensely. Aren’t you, Julian?”
He smiled at her. “Of course.”
Tears stung the back of Ellie’s eyes. Good grief, what was wrong with her? It wasn’t like she had any sort of claim on the man! Without a word she turned to leave.
“Ellie dear,” Mrs. Vander called after her. “Won’t you stay and help?”
Ellie, her back turned to the group, closed her eyes against the pain in her heart. Why was the sight of Bernice with Julian affecting her so? Well, that was a dumb question – it was a reminder of what she could’ve had … and had blown the chance. She opened them and slowly turned around. “If you’d like, Mrs. Vander.”
Eunice Caulder looked her up and down, studying her. “Hmmm,” she said aloud as she continued her candid perusal.
“I beg your pardon?” Ellie asked, unable to help herself. What was the woman doing?
“Can you sew, Miss Sampson?”
“Yes, of course.”