Mail Order Mix-Up

by Christine Johnson

  “He has?”

  She could see the spark in his eye, the anticipation and eagerness to begin. “It’s going to become a reality. Singapore will grow from a sleepy little lumbering town into a vibrant city with a school building all its own and a real church.”

  “With a steeple.”

  “And a bell tower on the school, too.”

  She got so caught up in his excitement that they ended up arm-in-arm, dancing around in a circle like two children who’d discovered buried treasure.

  “It will be wonderful!” she cried out. “I can see it now.”

  “It will.” He hugged her.

  The masculine scents of soap and spruce intoxicated her. She could feel the beating of his heart and drew close like a moth to flame. In that instant, they were one. With perfect clarity she saw the meshing of their lives.

  “Thank you for believing in me.” Only his voice had grown ragged.

  It stirred something deep inside. She could barely breathe, couldn’t help but notice that his lips were inches from hers, that his stormy blue eyes had darkened.

  “Pearl,” he breathed, leaning closer.

  His lips brushed hers, ever so lightly. She wanted more. Oh, she wanted more. She closed her eyes and let herself slip into bliss, waiting for his return.

  Below them, a strangled cry was followed by the exclamation “Traitor!”

  Pearl jerked from the reverie and spun to look toward town.

  Amanda stood not ten feet away, her hands pressed to her mouth.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You promised,” Amanda cried out for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  Pearl’s head throbbed. They’d missed Sunday dinner and sequestered themselves in their room. While Amanda sobbed and accused, Pearl attempted to fend off the indefensible. She had promised, and in the moment of testing had fallen far short.

  “I failed. I let you down.”

  “You stole him!”

  Pearl squeezed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “He outright told me he does not want to marry.”

  “It didn’t look like he wasn’t interested.” Amanda’s protests had slowed, though her tears hadn’t. “He kissed you.”

  “I might have appeared like that—”

  “It was more than appearance.”

  “It might have appeared like that,” Pearl said again, this time with emphasis, “but we were simply sharing a moment of excitement. He received funding to start his glassworks.”

  “Glassworks?”

  “A factory for making glass. Roland has great plans for Singapore.”

  Amanda’s brow pinched. “What’s wrong with the store? It’s right below their lodgings and perfectly situated for looking after the children.”

  “Sadie and Isaac are not Roland’s children. Perhaps he wants to begin life on his own.”

  “With a wife!” That ushered in yet another round of sobs. “Just like Hugh.”

  Pearl sat on the bed and wrapped an arm around Amanda’s shoulders. “No wife. I assure you. He was very clear about that.”

  Amanda wiped her eyes. “Then why the kiss?”

  “It was more like congratulations.” Yet, it hadn’t felt that way. Her lips still tingled from the brush of his. “I told him I could not marry. That’s when he insisted he was not looking for a wife.”

  Amanda heaved a sigh. “Why do I always choose the wrong man?”

  Pearl wondered the same. Amanda was drawn to the dashing gentleman rather than the steadfast type who would make the best husband. She kissed the top of her friend’s head. “I don’t know why we do that. Roland Decker would only break both our hearts.”

  “Then you don’t want to marry him, either?”

  What did she want? Pearl searched her jumbled feelings. For too long she’d kept them to herself. Amanda deserved the truth. “I’ll admit that I’m attracted to him. It shouldn’t be that way, but it is. I’ve tried everything to counter it, but somehow he always manages to find me alone. Then I’m lost.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I should have had better self-control.”

  Amanda watched her solemnly. Then her shoulders dropped. “I think I always knew that you felt something for him. I’m the one who should be sorry. I tried to take him away from you, just like Lena took Hugh from me.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She swiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You’re my dearest friend. How could I do that to you?”

  Pearl hugged Amanda close. “You followed your heart with abandon. I could never fault you for that. In fact, I admire that about you.”

  “You do?”

  “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so cautious.”

  “And I wish I was more like you. If only I weighed the options more carefully, I wouldn’t get so disappointed.”

  Pearl forced a smile. “Who knows? Perhaps in time things would work out between you and Roland. You needed to know, though, that he said he doesn’t want to marry now.”

  “I understand.” Amanda sighed. “We missed dinner, didn’t we?”

  “I imagine Mrs. Calloway saved us something in the warming oven.” Pearl stood. “Shall we find out?”

  Amanda smiled. “Once I wash my face and fix my hair.”

  Pearl had to laugh. Only Amanda would worry about her appearance when no one was likely to see her. After all, Roland wouldn’t be waiting in the kitchen or parlor or even on the front porch. After today’s scene, he wasn’t likely to wait for either of them. She smoothed her now-wrinkled skirts. That promised walk would never happen.

  * * *

  “That new schoolteacher,” Garrett mumbled between bites of ham and potatoes, “she seems to be doing a decent job.”

  “Pearl. Pearl Lawson.” The memory of her kiss still went to Roland’s head. He’d expected her to turn away, to slap him, or at least to chew him out. Instead, she’d leaned closer, eager to continue. If it hadn’t been for her friend’s untimely arrival, they would have gone far past the limits he’d set for himself.

  He ought to thank Amanda Porter. Ought to, but he couldn’t. Not while the disappointment gnawed at him. Perhaps once he got the steam tractor moved up from the mill to his property, he’d be so busy clearing the land that these unending thoughts of Pearl would go away.

  “Miss Lawson,” Isaac chimed in.

  Sadie kicked the rungs of her chair. “She’s nice.”

  That any words came out of her mouth had to be credited to Pearl. She’d been both diligent and compassionate, from what he could make out from the children’s reports.

  “Miss Porter, too,” Isaac added.

  Roland looked up from his plate of food. “Miss Porter is helping out at school?”

  Sadie nodded vigorously. “She takes care of Cocoa and Dandelion and Freckles.”

  Roland could guess which name went with which kitten. Cocoa was black-and-white. Dandelion must be the fuzzy white one, while Freckles had brown and black spots.

  Garrett frowned. “Is she there every day?”

  Roland glanced at his brother, who was at last taking more interest in his children’s schooling and well-being. Maybe it had to do with the new schoolteacher and church, but he hoped it had to do with Amanda Porter. She clearly loved children, and her temperament might work for Garrett. They were both quiet.

  Isaac’s head bobbed up and down. “She teaches us how to feed the kittens and brush them.”

  “And pick off the fleas?” Garrett grumbled. “I hold her responsible for the fact that we’ll have to house one of them.”

  Sadie blinked back tears and stared down at her plate, once again retreating into silence.

  Roland shook his head. Not only had Pearl, not Amanda, been the one to insist that Sadie have a kitten, but
Garrett was also ignoring his daughter’s deep need to love something. “Isaac. Sadie. Why don’t you take your dishes to the kitchen? I’ll clean up later.”

  Both children slipped off their chairs and grabbed their plates.

  “They’re not done,” Garrett snapped.

  The children froze.

  Roland wondered what had his brother so upset that he was taking it out on his son and daughter. Garrett didn’t mean to hurt them. He loved those children. Perhaps too much. He wouldn’t let them go near the river. The docks were off-limits. He’d impressed on Isaac that it was his responsibility to stick to his sister like a burr to a sweater. He wasn’t eight years old yet. They had precious little time just to be children.

  Roland got up. “Come with me. I’ll speak with your father.”

  He led them downstairs to the small kitchen in the back of the building.

  “Do we have to stop eating, Uncle Roland?” Isaac asked, dead serious.

  “No. Eat here and then play nearby.” He left them somewhat more cheered, but his temper was building. By the time he climbed the stairs, he was ready to explode.

  He burst through the door. “Why do you always have to be so harsh with them?”

  Garrett tensed. “What right do you have to tell me how to raise my children? It’s your fault they’re motherless.”

  Roland’s throat constricted even though it was an old argument. The guilt never went away, but he’d thought they might learn to live with it. “I can’t change what happened.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “But we have to let it go. You have to move on.” Roland would get back to his point no matter how much Garrett wanted to drag him back to the past.

  The vein on Garrett’s temple throbbed. “I am moving on, as you put it.”

  “Those children need a mother.”

  Garrett stood and slammed his fist down on the table. “They need their father and no one else.”

  “You must admit they’ve changed since the ladies arrived.” His brother wavered, and Roland seized the opportunity. “Sadie is talking again. Isaac enjoys school. They love spending time at the boardinghouse because of Miss Amanda.” He would tick off a hundred examples, but his brother stopped him.

  “Why do you keep talking about Amanda when it’s Pearl who’s made the difference? She’s a strong woman who won’t stand for nonsense.”

  Roland felt the knife slip between his ribs. Either Garrett was deliberately goading him, or he had noticed Pearl the way he had. He swallowed. “A good trait in a schoolmarm.”

  “Better in a wife and mother.”

  Roland couldn’t help but think of Eva. She’d been demanding, always thinking happiness was just a stone’s throw away. He would never have considered her strong. In comparison, Amanda came closer to Garrett’s late wife. Maybe that’s why Garrett dismissed her in favor of Pearl.

  “Pearl can’t marry. It’s part of her contract.”

  That didn’t sway Garrett. “There’s not a woman in the world that wouldn’t trade a job for marriage.”

  Roland fisted his hands. “Not Pearl. She honors her word. She wouldn’t abandon the children, even for marriage.”

  Then he noticed Garrett trying to hide a grin. This must be another of his brother’s tricks. Garrett wasn’t sweet on Pearl. He was trying to make Roland admit that he was.

  Roland called his bluff. “You missed the mark, this time, brother. I’m not running after any woman, even Pearl Lawson.”

  Garrett laughed. “We’ll see about that, little brother.”

  * * *

  In the following weeks, Pearl watched the growing piles of brick and stout wooden beams with a mix of admiration and apprehension. Roland had staked his future on this glassworks, but how would it take root in a small town centered on lumbering? Where would he get the workers, for one? When he’d talked about it, she’d envisioned it happening years from now, when the oldest students had finished their schooling. The truth hadn’t even sunk in when he told her the investment monies had come in. This accumulation of building materials meant his glassworks would soon become a reality.

  When she and Amanda stepped from the boardinghouse in the gray light of dawn the second week of October, she was surprised to hear the growl of a steam engine added to the whine of the big sawmill. Judging from the smoke and steam rising above the mill roof, whatever was going on was taking place upriver.

  She pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders. Autumn’s chill had set in. The leaves, such as they were in this barren landscape, were turning. Most were gold, but one vibrant maple shone its oranges and reds just below the schoolhouse.

  “Let’s press leaves today,” she suggested to her friend. “It looks like the rains have ended. The children will enjoy going out of doors.”

  “I’ll take half the class while you teach the other half.”

  This division of students worked, though it usually took some adjustment to keep the troublemakers apart.

  “Brrr!” Amanda shivered. “It’s chilly this morning. I’m glad I wore a scarf.”

  Pearl didn’t own a scarf or a winter coat. She would have to spend precious savings on them or suffer on her trips to and from the schoolhouse. Already the soles of her shoes were wearing thin. She’d stuffed newspaper inside and prayed they wouldn’t wear through until after winter.

  “I hope Jake isn’t out in this cold.” Amanda sighed.

  “I’m sure your brother has plenty of warm clothes wherever he is.”

  Lately Pearl had spent more and more time consoling Amanda about her brother. Apparently with Roland beyond reach, she’d turned her attention back to her lifelong quest. Pearl had hoped her friend would warm to Garrett, but neither party had shown the slightest movement toward the other. They sat on opposite sides of the church and never spoke. Amanda wouldn’t even look at him. Romance could never hope to bud if they wouldn’t talk.

  Fiona, on the other hand, didn’t shy away from Garrett, though he looked like a cornered fox every time she approached. Louise spent more and more time with Mrs. Elder until announcing Saturday that she was moving in to help care for the elderly couple. That meant one less lady in pursuit of the suitor, or at least within sight of him.

  Pearl sighed. At this rate, Amanda would never find her match.

  “Why the heavy sigh?” Amanda asked.

  Pearl shook her head. “Just thinking of the future.”

  As they rounded the mill, the shouts of men and growl of machinery grew louder.

  “What is it?” Amanda asked.

  “I suspect it’s the new glassworks.”

  “Oh.”

  Any mention of Roland or his project made Amanda clam up. Seeing him must still sting.

  Pearl skirted along the river with Amanda on her heels. The water raced past after the recent rains. With each step, the din grew louder. A tree crashed down. The work was definitely closer than she’d first thought. When they rounded the last curve before the cutoff to the schoolhouse, the catastrophe came into full view.

  Lumbermen toppled trees and sawed off the branches. The steam tractor from the mill hauled logs into a pile and tore up stumps, all while turning the forest floor into a rutted mess. A pile of branches and limbs rose high in the air. And Roland supervised it all. He darted from spot to spot, directing the men, oblivious to her presence and to the fact that he was clearing the land directly below the school. Given the sandy soil and steep slope, a good gully-washer could send the whole building toppling down the hill.

  Amanda stared. “What are they doing?”

  What indeed. Pearl’s blood boiled.

  “Stop!” she cried out, waving her arms.

  Naturally no one heard. How could they over the ear-splitting growl of machinery?

  She spotted Roland
talking to two of the lumbermen who were tugging a giant crosscut saw through the large spruce tree. Not that tree! The children loved its cones. They’d made wreaths from them to give their parents for Christmas. Now Roland was ruining it and everything else. How could she teach school with that racket? The kittens must be terrified. And two more men prepared to cut down her maple.

  “Stop!” Pearl raced toward the lumbermen. She had to halt this before they destroyed everything.

  The men set the saw against the trunk.

  She picked up her skirts and ran. Mud oozed through the thin soles. A stick jabbed the arch of her foot. She hopped but didn’t stop. Pearl threw herself against the tree, arms outspread.

  “Stop at once!” she cried.

  The surprised lumberjacks dropped the saw and stood up.

  The din lessened bit by bit, and gradually she realized the work had stopped. The men all stood staring at her. Only one moved, and his long strides covered the distance between them in no time.

  Roland halted in front of her. “What are you doing?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What are you doing?” The feisty schoolteacher shot Roland’s question right back at him. She waved at the work underway. “You’re destroying everything.”

  Ordinarily Roland would find her flashing eyes and spirited reaction appealing, but at the moment she was slowing down progress.

  “I’m clearing the land for the new glassworks, so if you will get out of the way, my men can get back to work.” Work for which he was paying a good wage.

  “But you’re cutting down the trees.”

  “That’s what clearing the land means.”

  After their talks, that should have been obvious. Yet she crossed her arms and glared.

  “Not my maple.” She waved a hand in the air. “Isn’t it bad enough that you’re killing the spruce?”

  Her misplaced defense of the trees was amusing. He couldn’t keep his lips from inching upward. “This is not Central Park or any park at all. It’s a lumber town. That means stands of timber are destined for the sawmill to be turned into lumber. How else did you think fine houses got built?”