The Kitchen Marriage

by Gina Welborn

  Thinking fast to cover how close the accusation came to the mark, Isaak stopped walking, forcing his brother to do the same. “Steal her away? You’ve all but ignored her since she came to town.”

  “Because the great Isaak Gunderson decreed that I had to follow his almighty schedule.”

  “Hogwash.” Isaak slapped the back of his right hand into the palm of his left. “The schedule I made included plenty of time for you to go to dinner or attend the theater or do the thousand and one other things you’d rather be doing than work. You easily could have kept it and, using one-tenth of the famous Jakob Gunderson charm, made Zoe fall in love with you.” Because, if she had, Isaak never—never—would have let himself picture a life with her. “But instead, you allowed yourself to be sidetracked by crooked ceiling tiles, the insignificant difference between one beige wallpaper and another, and whatever nonsense delayed the windows going in on time.”

  “You know what?” Jakob stuck his hands in the air as if he was surrendering. “I’m done trying to please you. I’m done trying to be you.”

  Isaak flinched. “Who has ever asked you to be me?”

  “You!” Jakob stabbed a finger at Isaak’s chest. “Every time you’ve given me one of your lectures or schedules or helpful hints on how I can do things better. I’ve had teachers, people at church, Uncle Jonas and Aunt Lily, and even Ma and Pa tell me what a fine example of a gentleman you are. It’s their subtle way of saying that I should be just like you. I always come in second behind Isaak David Gunderson.”

  “Spoken as though I haven’t heard similar praise about Jakob Matthew Gunderson. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard what a charmer you are, or how you light up a room just by walking into it. People think the moon and the stars hang on your wishes. It’s how you get them to jump in the river with you before anyone has considered that there’s a waterfall just around the bend. Amazing how you always get out of the boat just before it crashes. Everyone else is battered and bloody, but you walk away unscathed. You with your it’ll-be-fun motto. Well, brother, you need to come up with a new adage to live by because no one is having fun right now.”

  “Meaning Zoe, I presume.”

  “How do you think she feels, having been brought to a strange city and forced to fend for herself?”

  Jakob sneered and ran his eyes from Isaak’s top hat to shined shoes. “Seems like she’s made plenty of friends, and Aunt Lily has practically adopted her.”

  “Precisely my point.” Isaak pivoted on his heel and marched toward their house. He waited for Jakob to catch up before continuing. “How do you think Aunt Lily is going to feel when Zoe leaves town?”

  “What makes you think she’s leaving town?”

  Isaak snapped his lips together before he betrayed Zoe’s confidence. Thinking fast, he rephrased her intention. “Do you think she’s staying in Helena when your sixty days are up?”

  “What makes you think I’m not going to propose?”

  “Your inattention, combined with the fact that you haven’t even told our parents about her yet. If you were seriously considering marriage, you would have sent a letter to one of the hotels on their itinerary. But no! Tomorrow, you’re going to meet them at the train depot and say what? ‘Welcome home. Meet Zoe. She’s my mail-order bride, but don’t get too attached because I’m returning her.’”

  “Fine! I’ll marry her.”

  Isaak stumbled to a stop, staring at his brother’s retreating back. What had he done? This wasn’t where he’d meant the conversation to go. “But you don’t love her.”

  Jakob called out, “Since when have you ever thought love a necessary ingredient for a successful marriage?”

  Blast Jakob and his sharp ears.

  Waiting until his brother was way too far away to hear anything, Isaak whispered, “Since I met Zoe and fell in love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next morning

  Thursday, April 26

  De Fleur-Gunderson Courtship Contract, Day 48

  As Zoe stepped on to the boardwalk in front of the boardinghouse, she felt awful. She had had naught but bits and snatches of sleep in the last night, the look on Jakob’s face haunting her. She had tried on four dresses this morning before settling on this yellow-and-white-striped day dress, the only one she owned that did not accentuate the gloomy lavender circles under her eyes.

  She should have had more than one coffee this morning, although Mrs. Deal said the way Zoe drank it, it had too much cream in it to still count as coffee.

  With a sigh, Zoe headed west.

  She would hide today . . . if it were not for the fact that she had another long day of cooking to be ready for tomorrow evening’s welcome-home dinner.

  But at least today she could avoid Mrs. Forsythe’s curious looks and subtle questions about Jakob’s courtship and when Zoe thought he would propose. Whereas Mrs. Forsythe was subtle, her husband was astute. One look at Zoe and the judge would see right into her heart.

  If possible, she would leave on the first train on Saturday morning.

  Leaving before anyone noticed she was gone depended on the train schedule.

  Decision made, Zoe readjusted her grip on the basket of sweets she and Mrs. Deal had prepared to welcome Isaak and Jakob’s parents home. The paper bags filled with pistachios in surtout, nougat de Montélimar, and nougat de Provence weighed down the basket. They need not have made the white and black nougats in addition to the sweetmeat, but the two nougats were part of the traditional thirteen desserts at a Provençal Christmas feast Zoe had helped Papa prepare every year since she reached her thirteenth year.

  She would never cook Isaak a traditional French Christmas feast.

  But she could leave him a taste of it.

  Eyes blurring, she crossed the street, continued west, and ignored the ache in her heart.

  Over rooftops, white plumes of smoke rose from newly stoked hearths. A chilly breeze likely reddened her cheeks on this, according to Mr. and Mrs. Deal, unseasonably cold April morning. Zoe disliked the cold, so it was good she was leaving. In two days.

  For Denver.

  For a new life.

  For a time to forget about Isaak and what could have been were it not for his brother. Although were it not for his brother, she would never have met Isaak. Or fallen in love with him.

  “Oh, ze irony,” she murmured.

  She paused at the next intersection, partially to admire the risen sun, partially for a trio of wagons to roll past. Even if the feelings she bore for Isaak had the potential to be true and deep and abiding, she refused to allow them to come between brothers. She refused to come between Jakob and Isaak. She would never ruin a family. The most loving thing she could do was to leave Helena. Broken hearts could heal.

  Papa’s never did, but she was not her papa. She would work away her feelings for Isaak. In time. Because she was hopeful and determined, unlike Papa, who never tried to stop loving Maman.

  “Zoe, wait!”

  She looked over her shoulder. Nico?

  He raced down the block, hand gripping his newsboy cap, his arms pumping up and down as he ran. Why was he coming to her now? If he truly cared about her, he would have spent time with her. If he truly cared about her and their relationship, he would have met Jakob weeks ago. If Nico truly cared, he would have become involved in Zoe’s life instead of staying on the breakfast-at-Deals’ fringes.

  Instead, he had made promises he never fulfilled.

  And he lied. Too easily. Too readily.

  Zoe sighed. She had tolerated Nico’s behavior because she considered him her friend. In time, they could have grown as close as siblings, but he had used her to help him escape New York. He had used her to provide him free meals. She wanted to believe he could change. She had lost hope.

  A means to an end.

  Knowing that was how he saw her crushed her heart.

  Nico stopped next to Zoe and bent over, hands on his knees to catch his breath.

  “How ar
e you zis morning?” she asked.

  “All to the merry, I say.” He regarded her, his face scrunching. “I went to the boardinghouse to meet you for breakfast, but Mrs. Deal said you’d left. Where are you heading at this time of day?”

  “I have work to do.”

  He stood straight. “You have a job?”

  “Ze Gundersons hired me to cater his parents’ welcome-home dinner.”

  “When is it?”

  “Tomorrow night. Zey arrive zis morning.”

  “Lemme get this straight. Your suitor and his brother, who is now your friend, hired you to cook for them?” The moment she nodded, his eyes narrowed and his head tilted as he asked, “How much are they paying you?”

  “Zat is none of your business.”

  Nico’s eyes widened. “Someone’s testy. Is it because the Gunderson fellow hasn’t yet asked you to marry him?”

  Yes. No. The answer depended on which Gunderson the question referred to.

  She chose to ignore the question. “What is it you want?”

  “My employer gave me the day off,” Nico said with a smile. “We ought to go do something together. I saw a couple of houses for sale in East Helena in that new addition Charlie Cannon is building. We should go find us one. Or we could go back to the boardinghouse and play chess. I’ll even spot you three pawns and a knight.”

  “I have work to do today.” And tomorrow . . . until I leave everyone I love. “Enjoy your holiday.”

  At the burn of renewed tears, Zoe resumed her pace to the Pawlikowski house. She clenched the basket handle until the wood pressed into her palm.

  The first task of the day was to bake—

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been around in a while,” Nico said, matching her steps. “My employer has been working me hard.” Pause. “How come you’ve never asked me who I work for? And don’t say it’s none of your business. We’re family.”

  Family?

  The Forsythes had become more like family to her than he was.

  And yet she made the half-hearted effort to ask, “Who do you work for?”

  “Remember that grand lady sitting next to you on the train to Helena?”

  Zoe nodded. She had admired the woman’s lovely broach.

  “That’s her,” he said proudly. “Miss Mary Lester. She’s a wealthy, independent woman, much like you.”

  “What is ze nature of her business?”

  “She runs a hotel, but she also teaches the young ladies who work for her how to improve themselves and be a positive influence in their community. She even requires I spend one hour a day reading. She says reading daily is the first step in becoming a gentleman.”

  “Zis is admirable of her.” Not once could Zoe remember him speaking kindly of school and education. Were it not for the fact she was leaving Helena on Saturday, she would want to meet this Miss Mary Lester who seemed to have helped Nico make a home here.

  After a quick glance at him, Zoe crossed the next intersection. He seemed happy, truly happy, more than she could remember in the years since they met.

  “You like working for Miss Lester, yes?”

  “Sure do!”

  “And you like living here . . . in Helena.” She did not phrase it as a question, yet he responded with a nod.

  The realization of what she must do weighed down her heart.

  She stopped, glanced around to see no one was within listening distance, and then looked at Nico. “I am returning to Denver Saturday morning.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Zere is no future for me here.”

  “I’m here,” he said quietly.

  “You know how important a home is to me.” She rested her palm against his cheek. “You have one here.” She lowered her hand. “I like seeing you happy. Zis is why I have no regret bringing you on my adventure.”

  He looked away, staring blankly at a nearby building. The muscles in his face flinched, then twisted into a frown. “Are you going to marry that guy?”

  She shook her head. “We are unsuited.”

  “Ah, Zoe, I’m sorry he broke your—” His mouth gaped and his eyes grew wide in sudden realization. “That bad egg broke your heart and you’re still going to cook for him?”

  “I made a promise, a commitment.” Something she doubted Nico would understand. “No matter ze pain I feel”—she rested a hand over her heart—“in here, I must be true to my word.”

  He uttered a string of ungentlemanly words.

  Zoe stepped back, startled at his outburst.

  “This is just like New York!” he snapped. His lips pressed tightly together as he glared at her. “Those swells mistreated you and you kept going back for more.”

  Zoe swallowed uncomfortably.

  Nico looked at her in disgust. “Remember the Nephew? You lost your job and he still demanded you cook for him. If I hadn’t talked you into running away, you would’ve done it, even though you didn’t want to. You have no backbone.”

  Zoe stood there. She had no words to say in her own defense.

  “I warned you that Gunderson fellow was a bad egg.” He slapped his cap atop his head. In that moment, the anger in his eyes faded. “This is why,” he said in a softer voice, “you can’t leave Helena on your own. You need a brother to protect you. You need me.”

  Zoe looked away. She was tired. She was tired of Jakob’s courtship, tired of cooking, tired of hating herself for falling in love with Isaak, and utterly tired of being told she was weak and malleable or, as Mrs. Gilfoyle-Crane declared, unimposing. Being unimposing was the only way Zoe knew to please others, to keep the peace, to make people like her. If everyone demanded his own way, harmony would have no place to take root and grow.

  Yet though she knew making things right with Nico meant inviting him to leave Helena with her, she felt unable to say the words.

  “Miss Lester is nice and all,” Nico said suddenly.

  Zoe focused on him, more aptly on his shockingly wet eyes.

  “But you’re”—his voice cracked—“you’re my only family. I can’t lose you. You’re my sister and you’ll always be my sister.” He sniffed, then lifted his chin and spoke firmly. “We came to Helena together. We’ll leave together.”

  To be accurate, they had arrived on the same train on the same day at the same time. Only one of them knew the other was there.

  She gave him a weak smile. “I must go to work.”

  He responded with a terse nod. “Zoe?”

  “Yes?”

  If he noticed the sadness in her tone, he chose not to remark on it. “If you didn’t have to cook for that dinner party, would you leave now?”

  She released a weary sigh. “Yes.”

  “You’re your own person. Why don’t you just leave?”

  “Zis is not like New York,” she said roughly. “I cannot simply pack my bags and run away and no one will miss me. Zey are counting on me. Zey need my help.”

  “I suppose,” he muttered. His hard blue eyes focused on a passing wagon. “The best thing that could happen is for that dinner party to be canceled.”

  Zoe sighed again. The Gundersons would never cancel the welcome-home dinner save a death in the family. Murder certainly was not something Nico would ever do. He had a good heart, however misplaced.

  She gave him one of the paper bags filled with nougat. “Deliver zis to the kind Miss Lester and zank her for me for all she has done for you.”

  A slow smile curved his lips. “My mum used to say flowers were always worth the rain.” He took the bag and then enveloped Zoe in an awkward hug, pressing the basket she held into her ribs. “You’re my sister, and I’ll do what I must to take care of this for you.” After a quick, “See you later,” he dashed back down the street.

  Later that morning

  Isaak gripped his lapels and stared at the plume of gray smoke edging north toward the train depot. Jakob stood beside him, but he might as well have been a mile away.

  Had he proposed to Zoe? He’d not said a
nything about it this morning when they broke their silence to discuss the logistics of getting Ma and Pa home from the train station.

  Isaak dropped his chin as the front of the train appeared in the distance. When his parents disembarked, would it be to the news that Jakob was engaged? He’d not had much time between last night’s rash pronouncement and now, but he’d left the house without eating breakfast . . . and without saying where he was going.

  Isaak shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked over his shoulder to where Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, Aunt Lily and Uncle Jonas, and Mrs. Hollenbeck stood, as eager as he was for Ma and Pa’s return.

  The chug-chug of the train’s engine grew louder, accompanied by the hiss of brakes. Passengers poked their heads out of the windows while the loose crowd on the platform congealed into a line as close to the railroad tracks as the wooden boardwalk allowed.

  Jakob’s posture stiffened an instant before he lifted his right hand, waving it back and forth in greeting. Isaak squinted against the cloud of steam until he saw his mother’s favorite blue hat and then her face. Pa leaned out the window, wind blowing his hair into his eyes while he kept swiping it away with one hand and waving with the other.

  The train braked, the squeal painful to Isaak’s ear.

  He kept waving and leaned close to Jakob’s ear. “Remember, when they—”

  “I don’t need another lecture.”

  Isaak jerked upright as though he’d been slapped, even though Jakob’s tone of voice lacked force. “I’m not lecturing. I’m confirming our plan to load luggage in the wagon that you’ll drive back to the house while I bring Ma and Pa home in the surrey.”

  Jakob turned, his blue eyes icy. “I don’t need a reminder, either.”

  Was this how it was going to be from now on? Every attempt at conversation rejected out of hand? “So glad we agreed to be cheerful today.”

  Jakob huffed but said nothing.

  The train came to a complete stop. Ma and Pa ducked back inside the train and began to gather their belongings before disembarking.

  Jakob stopped waving and walked to the stair portico to assist their parents’ descent.