Molly didn’t know if she could share a house with him, but she wouldn’t admit that. She needed to stay professional if she wanted her journalist job to be waiting for her in New York. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” she said, “Plus, wouldn’t it be inappropriate?”
“No, I insist,” said Nathan, as he reached for the bag in her hand and placed it in the back of the wagon. I’ll need to get a few more supplies since I just purchased enough for the family.”
“Oh, the paper will be glad to pay you.”
Nathan nodded. He went back into the mercantile and asked Mrs. Victor for double the supplies he just ordered. Molly slid the bills on the counter as Mrs. Victor wrapped the purchases while watching her intently.
“A reporter, eh? I guess Mr. Evans at the paper wasn’t fancy enough to write an article.”
“Oh, no,” Molly corrected, “It is just that I am here on special assignment for the New York Gazette. I thought it might be easier to have a woman’s help instead of a man. So they sent me.”
She took the bills from Molly and counted out coins in change. “You are very pretty to be a reporter. Don’t you think, Nathan?”
Nathan put his fingers under his collar as if it was choking him. “Uh-huh. Very pretty.” He grabbed the packages and headed towards the door.
Molly called after him. “I’ll be right out, I just need to get a few things.” She turned and looked at Mrs. Victor. The older woman didn’t miss a thing.
“Just so you know we are very protective of Nathan and his children. Only the best will do for him.” Molly nodded. “He has a kind heart and he needs a woman that has the same.”
Molly coughed. “I will do my best to find those qualities in the letters.”
“How married are you to your life as a journalist, Miss Griffith?”
Molly raised her fingers to her throat. “I don’t understand what you mean?”
“I mean it must be exciting to travel all over the country and write stories.”
“I am sure it is,” she replied. She wasn’t about to tell the woman that this was her first trip, or even her first assignment.
“The town is protective of those children. Don’t let them fall in love with you. It would only break their hearts.”
Molly was surprised. “I have no intention of doing that. I’m here to capture the story of the letter, the letters and how it all plays out. I wouldn’t hurt anyone just to get a story.”
Mrs. Victor nodded. “Ok, then. Now what did you need?”
Chapter 6
Emma showed Molly the sacks of envelopes. There were four of them once Nathan added the latest sack to the pile.
Molly gazed at the open sacks, stuffed with handwritten letters, a hand flying to her lips. “Oh my. You do have a lot.”
“Well, yes. It’s been non-stop since last week.”
“Yes, they are everywhere! Father Christmas really gave us so many options,” said Susan, as she went to grab a few of the letters on top of the first sack. “Emma won’t let me open any of them. She said we couldn’t until you came.”
“Yes, and I would be grateful if you did go through them, so I could have my house back,” he said with a smile. “I’ve put your bag in the girls’ room. Make yourself at home.” He turned to Emma. “Harry is going to take a nap; the trip really tuckered him out. Forrest and I are going to go hunting for a bit of game before we take care of the animals. We probably won’t be home until just after dark.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll get dinner started,” Emma said.
Nathan leaned over to kiss her forehead and then leaned away. “That’s my girl.” He turned to Molly who was watching the exchange with intent eyes. “I’m sorry that I can’t stay longer, but there are chores to be done and we need fresh meat. The girls will make you comfortable. Please let them know if you need anything,” he said, as he turned to call for Forrest.
The little boy and Nathan walked out the door with only a small glance back at the table where Molly and the girls sat.
Molly released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She could breathe easier now that Nathan wasn’t around. She sat next to him on the ride home and was very aware of him. So aware in fact, he reached out to grab her before she fell off the wagon bench. She didn’t realize how far away she had scooted from his warmth.
Molly looked around the room. The house was rather large compared to the other houses they rode by. There was a large fireplace at the far end of the kitchen. A Walker & Pratt cooktop sat against a wall and there was a metal sink under the window. She didn’t see that it had running water. But there was a drain drilled into the back wall of the house. The house was decorated in shades of yellow and blue, but the colors were faded.
Molly knew there were at least two other rooms, one for the boys and the other for the girls. She wondered where Nathan slept and then silently chastised herself for thinking such thoughts. She told herself it was curiosity, and nothing more.
She watched Emma go to a cupboard and pull out a knife and a bowl. She placed those on the table and then went to a box next to a door leading outside where she took some vegetables. She turned to her sister and pointed to a large pot. “Can you get water for the pot, Susan? I’ll make stew, so it will cook while we go through some letters tonight.” I guess that answers the running water question.
“Susan, why don’t you show me where the water is, and I’ll help you bring it in.”
Susan smiled and wildly nodded her head before she grabbed the pot and went outside with Molly. There was a spigot at the corner of the front porch. “You need to pump the handle.” Molly gave the handle several pumps and water began to flow into the bucket. When it was filled, she picked it up while Susan held the door.
“It is very cold out there,” Molly said to Emma.
“Winter hasn’t even started, Father said.”
“Do you get a lot of snow?” Molly placed the bucket in the sink as she wasn’t sure where Emma wanted it.
“We get enough. Sometimes we can be snowed in for days. Those are my favorite times.”
“Being snowed in?”
“Yes. Mrs. Baxter can’t get here on those days and Father spends most of his time here in the house.”
“That sounds lovely.” Molly sat back at the table and picked up a carrot. “What can I do to help?”
Emma scanned the items before her. “Can you cut the carrots for the stew?”
“I believe I can manage that,” she said, although she was a bit skeptical, she could. Molly wasn’t as skilled in the culinary arts as someone her age should be; after her parents died no one ever took the time to teach her domestic chores that would be expected of her as a woman, and by the time she turned eighteen and was living in New York, it was too late for her to learn.
Since Molly lived in a dormitory, her meals were provided for her. She had thought once to ask the cook to teach her a few meals, but with her job, she didn’t have the time to do such a thing. She just hoped her future husband wouldn’t hold it against her.
She took the carrot and sliced it into rounds. They were thick, so Molly cut them in quarters.
Emma noticed her struggles and chuckled. “You cut the carrots strangely,” she said, as she finished with the potatoes.
“To be honest, I was never really taught,” she said, with a blush creeping up her face. She was embarrassed to be called out by a child.
“My mother taught me how to cut vegetables. Don’t worry, I can be a very good teacher,” she said, as she took a carrot and showed Molly how to cut it evenly and efficiently. It didn’t take long for them to cut all the vegetables, although Emma cut the majority of them. Emma put them into a bowl and took them to the sink to rinse.
Molly watched her add the vegetables to a Dutch oven and add some water and a piece of meat to the pot. “Do you always cook dinner?”
Emma smiled and stirred the stew. “Sometimes. I’ll get things started. Father cooks most of the time, but I know he really doesn’
t have the time. My mother had showed me a few things before she died, and others I learned as I did. I’m trying to show Susan a bit here and there, so she can help me,” she said, as the little girl took a seat in the living room.
“That’s amazing,” Molly said. And she truly was amazed and impressed by Emma. To grow up at such a young age was something that Molly had struggled with, even as she was over twenty now. She had always lamented about the childhood she had never had because of the circumstances of her life, so she was surprised that Emma was not upset about having to take care of her family. It was rather impressive, especially since it seemed Emma felt no resentment at all about her predicament.
Emma gave the stew a quick stir and covered it before sitting next to Susan at the table. Susan had already grabbed a few letters from the stack. “I can’t read,” she announced and handed the envelopes to Molly.
“The stew will take a while to cook; we should be able to get through some of these letters.”
Molly looked at the stack of letters that Susan handed her. She was already feeling overwhelmed, and they hadn’t even started. However were they going to get through all the letters?
She thought of the deadline that Mr. Davies had given her. She only had a week to help write their story and for them to send a letter to the woman about to be their new mother. She had to deliver. If she didn’t… she shuddered at the thought.
“Ok, let’s get to work.”
Emma was exhausted. They had spent only an hour on letter reading, and already she was drained. The only positive was they had cleared three bags. They were making good progress. However, there wasn’t one letter that stuck out to her. They all seemed generic, with the same narrative: romantic hopeful’s vying for the chance to be with Idaho’s most eligible bachelor. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any one candidate that would fit everything they were looking for.
Quite a few of the descriptions didn’t meet the standards that Emma and Susan had thought of when they initially decided to send a letter to Father Christmas. She wondered if Father Christmas was ultimately playing a cruel joke on her and they would never find a new mother.
Molly had a determined look on her face as she was reading one of the last letters from the third pile. She had set a few letters aside that she had deemed good enough to read; she admired the tenacity.
Every letter that Emma had looked at was nothing like she was looking for. She should have put down requirements that should have been met and was upset that it seemed that they wouldn’t find someone. She told herself it was because she was just imagining her mother and she wanted someone that was as close as she could get to her.
She turned back to Molly and watched the concentration on her face. She thought it was odd that she had trouble cutting vegetables; most women Emma knew were very skilled in the kitchen. She had always thought it was a skill that she would need to learn in order to please her future husband. But when Molly explained why she didn’t really know how to perform some of the simple tasks, it all made sense.
“I have a few letters that I think your father should look at,” she said, as she pushed them towards Emma, who was sitting on the ground next to Susan. Emma looked at Molly who smiled at her. “I know. It can be such a daunting task at times. There are so many letters to go through. But I think we eliminated quite a few,” she said, pointing to a stack that Susan was straightening. Those were the letters that they would dispose of.
“How did you get through them so quickly?”
“I’m a bit of a speed reader. I can narrow down details fairly quickly, which comes in handy at my job.”
Emma got up from the floor and went to the stove to check on the stew. “It’s almost done; we need to finish, so we should take a break,” she said, calling for her sister to help her. “Molly, would you be able to check on Harry?”
Molly got up from her seat and wiped away dust from her skirt. “Yes, I can.”
“Would you be able to wake him up as well? Dinner is going to be ready soon, and he’s going to be cranky if he misses his meal.”
“You know your siblings so well,” she said with a smile. “I’ll go and see if he’s awake,” she said as she walked back towards the boys’ room.
Emma was already grateful for the help from Molly, but she chided herself; she couldn’t get too attached to her, because she was only going to be there for a little while. Emma wondered if the mother they were looking for was the person they least expected.
Chapter 7
“Your daughters are amazing,” said Molly, as Nathan came out from the girls’ room. He had tucked them in for the night after dinner. Molly had been singing their praises since he walked into the room. He beamed with pride at her words; his children brought him great joy.
“Thank you,” he said, placing the kettle on the stove. “Would you like some tea?”
When she nodded her head, Nathan busied himself taking out two cups and a tin from the cupboard.
When he was done, he motioned for Molly to take a seat at the kitchen table. They sat at the table, holding their steaming mugs of tea in their hands, trying to keep the warmth from slipping through their fingers.
Molly was struck by how handsome he was when he smiled. His smile sent those butterflies twisting and swirling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to regain her composure. “What made you come out all the way here?” Although she knew it would be good for her story, she was truly interested. He mentioned he was from North Carolina. Why did he come out to Idaho to be what appeared to be a farmer?
Nathan’s smile slowly faded and her gave her a side glance, as if looking to see if she was worthy of the information. A few seconds passed before he sighed and continued. “My father wanted me to be a lawyer. His father was a lawyer and his father’s father was a lawyer, so it ran in the family. He had arranged for me to attend law school in New York. I was the only child, so it was important that I carry on the Parker legacy. But I wasn’t really interested in becoming a lawyer. I wanted to do something with my hands, something that was mine and no one could take. So, I decided that I wanted to be a farmer. I didn’t think my father would approve. In fact, he didn’t. I decided that we were going to go as far West as we could, and Margaret came with me. We just happened to settle here.”
It was the first time he had mentioned his wife by name. It came out sad, as if he tried to avoid saying her name. “So, you left your family?”
“Yes, as soon as I could. We both did. Margaret was engaged to a man that she didn’t love. It was an arranged marriage. But we fell in love at first sight. It was easy to get her to elope with me.”
Molly looked at Nathan to see a ghost of a smile tease his lips before he straightened his face to be emotionless. Molly knew from what she saw and what she could feel, that this woman was an important part in his life. She was surprised by it; while her parents had loved each other deeply, every house she was bounced around to after they died, had parents that didn’t really care for each other. She would find out through bits and pieces of information that they were joined together in every way but love, either by convenience or by mutual gain. She thought it was refreshing that Nathan and his wife had married for something other than sheer proximity to each other.
She thought it was incredibly endearing and made her heart swoon for him. They talked for a bit more, chit chatting on different things. She learned about Emma’s schooling in the town and how Forrest and Susie were going to start in the spring. She learned that school was held around the planting and harvesting schedule and that there was no school from mid-December through March because most folks couldn’t get to town due to the snow.
Nathan told her Emma was in charge of the small garden plot in the springtime; how she and Susie shared some chores and that Forrest was learning how to hunt at his father’s side. It was giving him a foundation where he would always be able to find something to eat. And the baby was growing by leaps and bounds and would soon be helping out
as well.
She was impressed by the family and their commitment to each other. They seemed rather stable and happy with their circumstances. You couldn’t even tell they had had the tragedy of losing a loved one, though she could feel the tension in their words when it seemed they wanted to discuss Margaret but didn’t. She wanted to know more about their mother but didn’t know how to approach the subject. She had a feeling that while the children were happy to discuss their mother when they wanted to, their father had preferred to keep his wife’s name off his lips.
She took mental notes of everything they said, folding them and setting them on a shelf in her mind to grab from when she would write her article. Their family was exactly the story she needed; she just hoped Mr. Davies would feel the same way when she brought the article to him.
Nathan was enjoying the adult conversation. He didn’t see people much anymore, now that he was focused more on his family. The only bits of adult conversation he got was in his weekly trips to the mercantile, and even those had become stale as of yet. He was enjoying Molly’s company even though she had just arrived that afternoon.
She was delightful at dinner, with a smile on her face. He had learned more about her life, how she became an orphan and how she was moved from place to place. He couldn’t help but notice the similarities in their stories. They were almost like kindred spirits, and for the first time since his wife had passed, he was starting to feel like he was accepted by another person.
A comfortable silence fell between them, only broken by their sips of tea and the scraping of the cups on the table surface. After a few moments, Molly spoke. “Why have you been alone?”
Nathan almost choked on his drink. “Alone? What do you mean? I have my family.”
“I know, you have your children. That isn’t what I meant. I mean, why haven’t you remarried?”
A Cozy Mitten Christmas (The Ornamental Match Maker Book 9) Page 5