When she came home with the ribbon tied in her thick mahogany curls, followed by one of the livery owner’s boys who had taken a shine to her, her father ripped it from her head and ordered her to stay away from town. He took away not only her freedom, but also any color from her life, forbidding her to wear anything but the ugly, plain brown garments.
None of it made any sense to Philamena, but then again, nothing had after her mother died. Pa started drinking heavily after that with the years between becoming a blur of hard labor interrupted by his drunken rages and random beatings.
Philamena finally learned that being quiet and meek was the only thing that kept him somewhat mollified. It was difficult to see the disgusting man Alford Booth had become and remember what a gentle father and loving husband he had once been.
Back then, their farm had been prosperous, their home happy and life joyous. Now, their land was a desolate mess.
To be bartered to the local banker to pay her father’s debt somehow didn’t shock Philamena like it should. She knew Luke Granger was a kind, honest man. At least she assumed he was from how she remembered him during her childhood years.
Attending the one-room school until she was fourteen, when her father imprisoned her at home, Philamena remembered Luke being a friendly, generous boy who was a few years her senior. He was the type who stood up against bullies, made sure the littlest children weren’t left out of schoolyard games, and excelled in his school work.
Like most of the girls at school, she was sweet on Luke before he went back East to school. No wonder he grew up to be successful and own the town’s bank.
As she sat behind him on his horse, Philamena wondered just what exactly he planned to do with her. Breathing deeply, she mentally shrugged and settled his coat more tightly around her. It smelled of leather, horses, and a warm, spicy scent she could only describe as uniquely Luke.
Of all the men in their small town of Hardman to come to her rescue, Philamena would have been less mortified but not nearly as pleased had it been anyone else. Luke was an extremely handsome man that any woman would fawn over.
Nearly lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the horse’s gait, Philamena struggled to stay alert. She felt her eyes sliding closed and jerked herself awake, noticing they were riding down the main street of town toward the parsonage at the Christian church, rather than toward Granger House at the far end of town.
Reining his horse to a stop outside the parsonage, Luke gave Philamena his hand and helped her dismount before stepping out of the saddle and handing the quilt-wrapped bundle to her. She dared not raise her gaze to his, and instead studied the ground as Luke took her elbow and propelled her toward the door.
She heard him rapping and felt the heat from the cozy inside of the cottage-style home flow around her when the pastor opened the door. Philamena knew from her father’s ramblings that the pastor was one of her former classmates, Chauncy Dodd. He and Luke had been good friends in school.
“Luke,” Chauncy said with a broad smile. “What brings you by this evening?”
“I’m hoping you can help me with a…um…situation,” Luke said, turning his gaze to Philamena. She clutched her little bundle tightly to her chest and studied the worn toe of her shoe.
“Who do we have here?” Chauncy asked, kindness lacing his voice. He opened the door wider and Luke escorted Philamena inside the cheery home. The yeasty smell of bread nearly made Philamena fall to her knees. It had been so long since she’d had bread, she could barely remember the delicious taste of it.
“Philamena Booth,” Luke said pushing her forward a bit. She still refused to raise her gaze and make eye contact with anyone. “She needs a place to stay tonight and I was hoping you and Abby would take her in.”
“Absolutely,” Chauncy said as a petite woman, large with child, waddled into the front room.
“Hello, Luke,” Abby said, squeezing Luke’s hand when he bent down to kiss her cheek. “I thought I heard you. Have you had supper?”
“Yes, ma’am. Miss Booth made a nice bowl of stew. Would you be able to make her comfortable tonight?”
“Most definitely,” Abby said, reaching out a hand and capturing Philamena’s. Tugging her toward the kitchen, Abby began a friendly conversation that elicited short, quiet responses from Philamena.
When the women were out of earshot, Chauncy motioned to two chairs in front of a roaring fire. “Suppose you tell me what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now?”
Luke shot his friend a warning glance and settled into the comfortable chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire. “I went out to collect from Alford Booth and he refused to pay again. When I demanded payment he said either I could take his daughter to cancel his debt or he’d sell her to Cecil. I didn’t feel I had a choice. I couldn’t let him take her to the Red Lantern.”
“No, you couldn’t, but what are you going to do with her?” Chauncy asked, studying his friend and former cohort in all sorts of boyish crimes. “You can’t leave her here indefinitely and you certainly can’t take her home with you. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“I could move her into the hotel,” Luke said, thinking about his options. “I could get her a room at the boarding house. She could have the entire second floor of my monstrous house to herself.”
“You know tongues will wag. They’ll be flapping as it is that she is finally off the farm. You don’t want to make things worse for her, do you?” Chauncy had tried many times to convince Alford to change his ways, to let Philamena leave the farm. His suggestions fell on deaf ears. He knew the minister from the Presbyterian Church tried to talk to Alford as well. Now that Philamena was off the farm, he intended to make sure she wouldn’t have to go back. From what he knew, she would make someone a good, dutiful wife. And that someone would be Luke. Chauncy couldn’t explain how he knew this with such certainty, but he did.
Luke raked his hands through his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees. Letting out his breath, he turned and stared into the dancing flames in the hearth. “You might as well tell me what you think I should do, instead of waiting for me to get around to your way of thinking.”
Chauncy grabbed his chest and feigned a look of pain. “You wound me, Luke. When have I ever tried to talk you into anything?”
“Nearly every time I see you,” Luke said, a small smile finally cracking his full lips. “I wouldn’t have made nearly so many trips to the woodshed as a kid if it wasn’t for your suggested ideas.”
“We did have a lot of fun, didn’t we?”
“That’s beside the point,” Luke said, leaning back and turning his ice blue gaze on his long-time friend. “Let’s hear it. What do you think I should do?”
“Marry her.”
Luke bolted upright in the chair and glared at Chauncy like he’d grown a second head. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly. Would you mind repeating that?”
Chauncy grinned and leaned forward. “I said you should marry her. You’ve avoided matrimony long enough. You’re pushing thirty and it is long past time for you to settle down. After all, the town banker should have a wife and a family.”
“Huh,” Luke grunted, annoyed at his friend. Chauncy knew the last thing he wanted was to be tied down to a woman and family. Luke’s father was a perfect example of what happened to a good man when a woman got under his skin.
Never content with their life back East, his father insisted on moving West. They settled into the town of Hardman when Luke and his sister were just little tykes. His father established the bank and built his mother the huge Victorian house at the edge of town everyone called the Granger House.
It wasn’t good enough.
His mother hated every day she spent in Hardman and finally talked his dad into moving back to New York, where her family lived, the year Luke graduated from college. Luke’s sister was all too glad to escape the “wilderness,” as his mother called it. His father preferred the wide open spaces of Hardman, but he’d do anything for Dora, his wife of
thirty-six years.
Luke loved the rugged landscape and the community of Hardman. After he finished up his courses at the snooty school his mother insisted he attend in the East, he returned home, took over the bank from his father and moved into the hulking house. Now, eight years later, he owned the bank and the house, having purchased both from his parents.
The house sat on a five acre lot with a huge barn and carriage shed. With six bedrooms, indoor plumbing and every modern convenience available, most people thought the Grangers were a bit extravagant when they built the house.
Luke would have to agree. He hated rattling around in the big empty place and had closed off all but a couple of rooms. Between the bank and his livestock, he tried to spend as little time inside as possible.
If he brought a woman home, that would all change. Luke didn’t need a wife to complicate matters. He liked his life exactly the way it was.
Sitting back against the chair, Luke stretched out his long legs and studied Chauncy, who had fought against married bliss nearly as well as Luke. Right up until Miss Abigail Sommers moved to town and opened a dress shop down the street from the mercantile.
Chauncy was a goner the first Sunday she sat in the congregation and turned her big brown eyes his direction. Now, three years later, Chauncy and Abby were about to embark on the adventure of parenthood.
“You need to come up with a better plan,” Luke said, steepling his tapered, callused fingers in front of him. “What else have you got?”
“Nothing,” Chauncy said, still grinning. “You better take this payment and make the best of it. You might find out it’s a blessing in disguise.”
“You’ve got the disguised part right. Between that ugly dress and the rag on her hair, she could be covered in warts with not a tooth in her head,” Luke said, shivering at the vision his words conjured.
Chauncy laughed. “Oh, you might be surprised, my friend.”
Luke gave him a doubtful look. Chauncy sat forward and slapped Luke’s leg.
“Come on, Luke,” he said, trying to sound encouraging. “Think this through. You don’t want a wife. I seriously doubt she wants a husband, but she can cook and clean. She can make your home warm and welcoming and not quite so lonely in the evening. You, in turn, give her a comfortable, safe place to live and some sense of security. Seems like an ideal partnership to me. Just look at it as a business deal, a Christmas bargain. She is supposed to be payment for a loan. If you hired a full-time housekeeper and cook, like my lovely wife has been after you to do for more than two years, think about the wages you would pay for that position. I know you have Mrs. Kellogg do your laundry and dust, but you really do need someone to care for your home. Give this a try until Christmas. If you both despise the arrangement at the end of that time period, you could always have the marriage annulled.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound quite so crazy when you put it that way,” Luke said, thinking about how nice it would be to go home to a hot meal instead of eating at the restaurant, mooching dinner from Chauncy and Abby, or making do with what he could rustle up. “But what makes you think she’ll be willing to go along with it?”
“Gratitude.”
“Gratitude?”
“Wouldn’t you be grateful and feel indebted to the person who saved you from Alford Booth?”
“Possibly,” Luke said, giving the idea of marriage consideration. “But those rags have got to go. Can Abby set her up with some new clothes? I’ll pay for everything, of course.”
“Of course,” Chauncy said, trying to hide his grin. Talking Luke into getting married didn’t take nearly as long as he anticipated. “Tell you what, today is Monday so why don’t we plan the wedding for Saturday afternoon. Miss Booth can stay here this week and you two can get used to the idea of being married. By Saturday, if I know Abby, she’ll have a new wardrobe ready for your bride-to-be and then you can move her in. It will look like a real courtship and should keep the gossips in town from having too much fodder.”
Luke nodded his head. “That’s a sound plan.”
Standing up, Luke extended his hand to Chauncy and gave it a friendly shake before the two of them walked to the kitchen where Abby chattered away while Philamena quietly helped dry the dinner dishes.
“Miss Booth,” Luke said, trying to get her attention. She turned his way, but never raised her eyes up where he could see them. He wasn’t sure he could spend the next fifty years with someone boring holes into his chest because they couldn’t make eye contact. “I’m heading home but you’ll stay here until Saturday. Pastor Dodd will marry us then and you’ll come to my house at that time. Is that acceptable to you?”
His only answer was a brief nod of her head.
Abby, on the other hand, squealed with delight and gave him a big hug, or as big as she could around her protruding tummy.
“Oh, Luke, that is wonderful news!”Abby said as she squeezed his arm. If she hadn’t been expecting, Luke knew she’d be flitting around the room in excitement. “We’ll have a nice little ceremony in the church, won’t we Chauncy?”
“Absolutely,” her husband chimed in, sending her a wink.
“Would you help Miss Booth with her clothes, Abby? She’s going to need some warmer things for the winter and she might like a wedding dress,” Luke said, picking his coat off the kitchen chair where Philamena had draped it earlier. Sliding it on, he buttoned the front and pulled warm gloves out of the pockets.
Turning toward his soon-to-be-bride, Luke tried to give her a once over but couldn’t get past the hideous dress and equally ugly cloth covering her head. “Would you like a wedding dress, Miss Booth?”
“That would be nice,” she said quietly, studying the floor. “But I don’t want to be any more in debt to you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said, leaning over and kissing Abby on the cheek. “Thanks, Abby. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Chauncy walked him to the door and waved as Luke mounted Drake and headed the horse toward the other end of town.
Whistling, Chauncy stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked back to the front room to sit by the fire and gloat. He knew Luke and Philamena being together was right. He didn’t know what the future held for those two, but he was looking forward to finding out...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SHANNA HATFIELD spent 10 years as a newspaper journalist before moving into the field of marketing and public relations. She has a lifelong love of writing, reading and creativity. She and her husband, lovingly referred to as Captain Cavedweller, reside in the Pacific Northwest with their neurotic cat along with a menagerie of wandering wildlife and neighborhood pets.
Shanna loves to hear from readers.
Connect with her online:
Blog: shannahatfield.com
Facebook: Shanna Hatfield’s Page
Pinterest: Shanna Hatfield
Twitter: ShannaHatfield
Email: [email protected]
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