Mail Order Mix-Up

by Christine Johnson

  “Perhaps Miss Fiona, then.” He couldn’t resist the jab that generated the expected reaction.

  “Also biased. Louise would be fair, but we’d have to retrieve her from somewhere on the dunes.”

  “I don’t know her well enough to agree or disagree.”

  She tapped a finger on the handle of her paintbrush. “Then I fear we are at an impasse. If the town had a minister—”

  “But we don’t.” Movement outside caught his attention. A man, lean and old enough to be Pearl’s father. The man nailed the traditional moon symbol on the privy door. Roland grinned. “That’s it! Mr. Calloway.”

  “He is not a minister.”

  “He reads the sermons on Sunday.” He felt her resolve slipping so he tacked on another incentive. “Garrett says he sat in on the discussion leading to hiring you as teacher. He cares about the school.”

  As he’d suspected, she acquiesced. “But it’ll take time to find him and bring him here—if Mrs. Calloway doesn’t have him busy fixing something at the boardinghouse.”

  “Have no fear.” He strode past Pearl and stuck his head out the door. “Ernie!”

  Calloway looked up, hammer still in hand. “What d’ya need?”

  “Would you mind judging a little competition?”

  Pearl must have snuck up behind him because she chimed in, “If Mrs. Calloway doesn’t need you.”

  Ernie touched a finger to the brim of his worn hat. “Nice ta see ya here, miss. The missus is always needin’ me fer this and that, but I don’t see what a bit o’ friendly competition won’t keep me overlong.”

  His grin revealed crooked teeth and a genuine affection for his fellow townsmen. Aside from Roland, he was the one Singapore resident who most wanted the town to grow. At one time he’d dreamed of buying the inappropriately named Astor House and turning it into a true reflection of its namesake, but the hotel’s owner refused to sell.

  “Thank you, Mr. Calloway.” Pearl beamed at the man in an obvious attempt to sway his goodwill. “It’s for the school and the children.”

  “Well now, can’t rightly turn down anything that’ll help out the young’uns.”

  Roland felt his advantage slipping away quickly. “Or it might benefit the town.” He couldn’t exactly say how winning a kiss from Pearl would benefit the town, except perhaps by keeping her here for more than a single school year.

  “Well, then, let’s get on with it,” Ernie said, tucking his hammer into a loop sewn onto his leather belt.

  As general handyman around the boardinghouse, he carried tools with him all day. Roland had seen him with screwdrivers and wrenches tucked in that belt of his.

  Roland brought him inside and explained the competition.

  “And when I win,” Pearl pointed out, “Roland, er, Mr. Decker, will supply primers for all the students.”

  “Well now, ain’t that the mark of a generous soul.” Ernie turned to him. “And what do you git if’n you win?”

  The deal that had seemed so reasonable moments before now sounded crass spoken aloud. Still, Roland knew how to charm even the crotchetiest man, and Ernie was far from dour. The old man still brought his wife wildflowers every Friday morning from spring until the first frost of autumn.

  “The lady will take a stroll along the lakeshore with me.”

  Pearl lifted an eyebrow, and he was pleased to see a corner of her mouth tick upward. Seeing as her color didn’t heighten, she must have approved of the change in terms. Besides, the romance of the lakeshore might lead to the very thing he’d first proposed.

  “And you are to judge who finishes first,” he continued, “and disqualify anyone who splatters paint on the other person.”

  “All righty, then. Are ye ready?”

  Roland spread out the oil cloth on the floor and then set the pail of paint midway between their patches of wall. He dipped his brush. Pearl dipped hers.

  “Go!” Ernie yelled.

  Roland brushed furiously, dipping as quickly and cleanly as possible. No splatters. No drips. That was the deal. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to see Pearl was keeping up. Moreover it appeared she was doing a good job. She did have experience painting walls.

  “Yer ahead, Miss Pearl,” Ernie urged, “but only by an inch. Hurry!”

  “You’re supposed to be impartial,” Roland pointed out.

  “Tain’t right fer a man ta go against a lady.”

  Had Roland caught Pearl smiling? He paused long enough to check, and she took advantage, gaining another inch on him.

  “Stop that, Ernie. You’re distracting me.”

  The old man chuckled. “Seems ta me that I ain’t the one distractin’ you.”

  That brought out the color in Pearl’s cheeks, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she tucked her tongue between her lips and concentrated on the painting. My, oh my, that gal could concentrate when she needed to. If she taught school the way she painted, those children were going to come out of the school year able to recite every one of Shakespeare’s sonnets from memory.

  “‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments,’” Roland said, quoting from the sonnet that he had often recited to Eva.

  Pearl paused. “You know Shakespeare?”

  “As do you, apparently.”

  She blushed. “I borrowed a book of sonnets from the library.”

  “And memorized them all, no doubt.”

  She shook her head. “Only a few, but I recognize that one.”

  “My favorite.” Though he had not spoken it aloud since that horrible day.

  “You will have to recite it all to me one day.”

  A bittersweet ache settled into his heart. That would be too much like what he’d done with Eva. He had been so serious with her, wanted to marry her, to make a life together. He had recklessly spent money on hothouse flowers, confections and baubles. She had accepted each gift until the day she returned them with the announcement she was going to marry his brother. His brother!

  “Are you all right?” Pearl was peering at him with concern.

  He pasted on a grin. “Better than all right. I intend to recite that poem to you on our lakeshore stroll.”

  Ernie cleared his throat. “Not if’n ye don’t stop talkin’ an’ start paintin’.”

  Roland finally noticed how far ahead Pearl had gotten while he’d been stuck in memories of the past. He loaded his brush full of paint and slapped it on the wall. The paint splattered, landing on his shirtsleeve.

  “Done!” Ernie declared. “Miss Pearl’s the winner.”

  Roland tightened his grip on the paintbrush. Eva had cost him again. Would it never end? He stood back to criticize Pearl’s paint job, but she had completed the work expertly. Moreover, not a single drop of paint had landed on her clothing.

  “Congratulations,” he said stiffly.

  Her eyes widened. “Your shirt! It’s ruined.”

  That, too. “It’s nothing.”

  He swiped the brush against the wall, finishing the job, but she caught his arm.

  “Hold still a moment.” Pearl dabbed at the speck of paint with her handkerchief.

  “Don’t,” he said, more worried about her losing a handkerchief than his shirt. “The color of the paint matches the shirt. Moreover, my jacket will hide it.”

  “I know, but...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes glistened.

  Something tugged at his heart. Perhaps it was the vulnerability visible beneath the surface or the gentleness of her touch. Whatever it was, it hurt. It ached fiercely, for it unearthed the feelings he’d managed to bury for years.

  “I would like that walk,” she said softly.

  He stared. “You would?”

  She nodded slowly. “Tell me about the town and y
our plans.”

  It was happening all over again. This time would he win, or would Garrett walk in again with his two children and steal her away? A cautious man would walk away. Roland had never lived life cautiously.

  Chapter Ten

  “You are buying schoolbooks?” Roland’s brother stared at him from the other side of the store counter. “You? The man who has been saving every penny for that crazy dream of yours?”

  “My dream is not crazy. The glassworks will save this town.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t need saving,” Garrett grumbled. “Maybe it’s fine the way it is.”

  “The timber won’t last forever.”

  “Then we move on. Things change.”

  “Since when did you start accepting change?”

  “Since it was forced on me.” Garrett’s scowl made it perfectly clear that Roland was responsible for that forced change.

  He was. But that was in the past. They had to move forward. “You might just pack up and leave, but I happen to believe in this town. With the right opportunities, it can boom.”

  Garrett clearly didn’t share his belief. “That doesn’t explain why you’re buying primers.”

  “Education is the foundation for the future. I want educated workers at my glassworks.” Roland was beginning to sound like Holmes, who had promised an answer a week ago. Still no word.

  “Humph. Sounds to me like you’re sweet on the new teacher.”

  Though Roland felt the blood rush to his face, he kept his composure. “Maybe I care about Isaac and Sadie.”

  “Are you saying I don’t?” Garrett leaned over the counter, his hands curling into fists.

  Roland tensed. It had always been like this between them. Even as boys, they’d battled over the smallest things. Who could throw the ball farther. Who got the best grade in arithmetic. Who got the most mashed potatoes at dinner. Everything had been a competition. Even Eva. Garrett always won the physical battles, while Roland bested his brother at anything that required wits. Except Eva.

  Maybe it was time to stop competing.

  That thought triggered the memory of Pearl’s triumphant win. He owed her, but he didn’t know how he was going to pay for the books. If he hadn’t suggested the competition... He grinned. Her delight was worth any cost. Hopefully Holmes would come through with the funding, and Roland wouldn’t have to delay the glassworks another year.

  “I don’t need your help with my children.” Garrett slammed a fist down on the counter.

  Roland jumped. “Fine. Pay for their books, but the other children will need primers, too.”

  “How do you suddenly know so much about schooling? You were never interested before.”

  “Pearl told me what each grade would need. Once we went over the likely students, it didn’t take long to come up with an order. It’ll go out on today’s mail boat.”

  Garrett studied Roland as if inspecting an unusual insect.

  Roland waited.

  Garrett’s shoulders relaxed. “You called her Pearl.” He grinned. “Kind of wish you’d take one of those other ladies off my hands.”

  Roland hadn’t failed to notice their devoted attention to the children. Every evening Isaac told them what Miss Fiona or Miss Amanda or Miss Louise had done for them over at the boardinghouse. “Hasn’t one struck your fancy yet?”

  “I told you I’m not marrying.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “Did you or did you not just tell me that change is inevitable?”

  Garrett peered at him trying to figure out his angle. “Yes.”

  “And you are perfectly capable of taking care of your children without any help whatsoever?”

  Garrett wasn’t as quick-witted as Roland, but he figured out where this conversation was headed. “No, and that’s final. I will not marry some stranger just because my children want a new mother.”

  “Don’t you think they deserve a mother?”

  Garrett glared at him. “I think you deserve to have your head dunked in a horse trough.”

  In an instant he was over the counter, but Roland was faster. Like boys, they raced through the store and out onto the boardwalk, laughing. There was nothing like a good wrestle to bring them together.

  Roland stopped in his tracks, and Garrett crashed into him.

  “Ladies.”

  Garrett snatched his hat off his head. Roland straightened his coat.

  Pearl and Amanda stood in front of them. The latter carried a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a blue hair ribbon.

  Amanda held it out. “For Sadie.”

  “For her birthday,” Pearl added when her friend said nothing more.

  Roland spotted his brother blinking back tears and staring at the ground. Garrett had a weak spot for his children, thus the new doll and child’s tea set Roland had ordered. Garrett had chosen to give her the doll while Roland would give the tea set. He puzzled how the ladies had managed to discover it was Sadie’s birthday this weekend until he recalled how much time the children spent with the Calloways. No doubt Mrs. Mabel Calloway spilled that little fact.

  Regardless, Garrett still had not taken the gift.

  Color dotted Amanda’s cheeks. “Please take it. I wanted her to have the dress in time for school. And I made a matching one for her doll.”

  If that didn’t crack Garrett’s heart, nothing would. Still, the man didn’t budge.

  Roland accepted the gift from Amanda and handed it to his brother, who still didn’t look at the woman who had gone to great lengths to make his daughter a present.

  Roland cleared his throat and glared at Garrett before turning back to the ladies. “Since my brother appears to have lost his tongue, I will thank you for him, Miss Amanda.”

  She blushed. “I hope the dress fits her.” Amanda bit her lip and held Roland’s gaze. “Let me know if it doesn’t.”

  That’s when he noticed her eyes were an unusual shade of violet. Like Eva’s.

  “Until later, then,” Pearl said.

  Roland nodded. “Until later.”

  Garrett dug into the sand with the toe of his boot.

  Once the ladies were out of earshot, Roland turned on his brother. “Why were you so rude? Miss Amanda made your daughter a gift.”

  Garrett’s jaw was set. “She’s not Eva.”

  Roland shivered. His brother had seen it, too, but he couldn’t let something so insignificant stand in the way of a potential match. “Of course she isn’t. Any resemblance is no excuse for bad manners.”

  “I’m not getting married, especially to someone who looks like Eva.”

  That narrowed the field, but Roland couldn’t help wondering if his brother had thrown away the perfect match over something unimportant.

  * * *

  To Pearl, the two brothers looked like boys who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Garrett wouldn’t look them in the eye, even when Amanda had handed him the gift, and Roland kept mopping his neck and smiling too broadly to make up for his brother’s lack of gratitude.

  “Sadie’s father doesn’t like me.” Amanda sighed once they’d headed back to the boardinghouse.

  “I’m sure there’s another explanation. It looked to me like we interrupted a heated discussion.”

  “Whatever about? Jake and I never quarreled, and we were children. They’re grown men.”

  “You were five and six years old,” Pearl pointed out. “If you did quarrel, you were too young to remember it, especially after...”

  “Especially after the accident. It’s all right. I can talk about it now.”

  “I’m glad.” Pearl no longer had to pretend it didn’t happen, as if Amanda had ended up in the orphanage due to some huge mistake instead of t
he train accident that claimed her parents’ lives and sent her brother first to an uncle in Missouri and then, after he ran away, into thin air.

  “Surely your brother would have returned to New York if he was looking for you.”

  Amanda halted in front of the boardinghouse. “He must not have been able to, or he tried but I was already gone to the Chatsworths’.”

  Pearl shook her head. They’d been over this part a dozen times. “He didn’t appear while I was still there. By then, a dozen years must have passed. He probably didn’t know where to look. When your uncle moved on, there wasn’t anyone left who knew where you were.”

  “Uncle Griffin never knew where I was.”

  “How can you be sure?” From what Pearl recalled, Amanda was only five at the time of the accident and seven when her grandmother passed from typhoid. Most children that age wouldn’t have any idea where to find family. “You said you never met your uncle.”

  “He moved before Grandmother died.”

  The how and when didn’t matter. Amanda was alone in the world except for a brother who might still be alive somewhere. She could cling to that hope, but not Pearl. Her parents would never come back for her.

  “Perhaps it’s time to set the past aside and move forward with your life.” Pearl had voiced that opinion often enough, but since arriving in Singapore that path had never seemed clearer. “If Jake is still alive—”

  “He is. I know it.”

  “If he’s still living, you have no way to find him. He might live anywhere, even in the Western territories.”

  “Or here.”

  Pearl had never heard her friend sound so certain. “Why would you think that?”

  “It’s as good a place as any, and Mrs. Calloway says there are at least two men named Jake who work upriver cutting down trees. She says they’re young enough to be my brother.” Amanda bit her lip. “Do you think Mr. Decker would take me upriver to search?”

  If one of those men turned out to be Amanda’s brother, it would be an enormous coincidence. Pearl couldn’t dash her friend’s hopes, no matter how faint. So she smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure making that dress for his daughter helped soften his heart, though I must admit that he certainly isn’t very vocal about his feelings.”