Would-Be Mistletoe Wife

by Christine Johnson

  She looked at the small, whittled birds sitting on her desk at the head of the classroom.

  The decision took only an instant. She left the icy school, locked the door and headed for the lighthouse. If nothing else, he would appreciate the return of these birds. She would apologize and not pressure him for something he could not give. She would expect nothing and give all she could.

  The sun had dipped low and the breeze cut through her coat when she stepped outside. After locking the door to the school, she began the hike up the dune to the lighthouse. The sun had warmed the sand sufficiently that all frost was gone, leaving the surface soft and as strenuous to traverse as during the summer.

  She gave the exertion little consideration, for her thoughts remained on Jesse. She could imagine his smile, so very slight, when she handed him the birds. He might act surprised. Perhaps he had forgotten that he’d given them to her. So much had happened between then and now. The fire. The homeless. His father’s visit. Their painful break.

  Only when the lighthouse loomed near did her heart begin to pound. What would he say? Would he even welcome her? Or had he gone to bed already, making her miss her opportunity?

  She lifted a hand to knock, but the door opened.

  “Louise!” Jane Blackthorn stood inside. “Come in. I’ve been thinking of you ever since the fire. How are things going?”

  Louise stood frozen in place. She had completely forgotten that Jane would answer the door and had not prepared for it.

  No words came, so she simply followed her hostess to the parlor and answered Jane’s questions. Telling her which families had moved to cabins and which ones were still at the boardinghouse and hotel focused her mind on something less fraught with emotion than her rift with Jesse.

  “It’s a hard thing.” Jane shook her head. “Can I take your coat?”

  Louise knew that she had said that just to prolong the visit. “Actually, I wanted to see Jesse. Is he still awake?”

  Though Jane looked disappointed, a spark also lit in her eyes. So, she was as much a matchmaker as Fiona and Mrs. Calloway.

  “I expect he is. He just got back from posting some letters.”

  Louise immediately thought of the responses to his advertisement. He was going ahead with that, dousing the tiny shred of hope that had resided deep in her heart.

  “Have a seat, and I’ll fetch him,” Jane said.

  While she bustled off, Louise tried to sit, but her nerves were too much on edge. She did unbutton her coat, but the parlor wasn’t very warm, so she left her coat on and wandered to the windows. The view faced the river rather than the town or the lake. Interesting. She wondered why the builders had chosen that orientation. Perhaps they knew how strongly the winds blew off the lake and were trying to spare the occupants from breezes that could rattle windows.

  “Louise. Mrs. Smythe.”

  Jesse’s voice sent her nerves fluttering. She turned, half expecting to see the same scowl he’d worn when he left her weeks ago. Instead, he simply looked puzzled.

  “What brings you here?” he asked.

  She opened her hand, revealing the two tiny birds. “I found these in the classroom today and wanted to return them.”

  “You were in the school?”

  “Yes.” Though why he should question that fact was beyond her comprehension. She’d figured he would wonder why she was returning the birds. “Now that there won’t be wreaths, I thought you should have them back.”

  Since he had not moved, she went to him and held out the birds on her open palm.

  He stared and then took them from her hand, his fingers brushing her palm. The sensation was as unnerving and thrilling as it had ever been.

  He turned the birds over, examining them. “I forgot about these. No festival then.”

  “There isn’t much reason. We had hoped to draw people from Chicago. That won’t happen.”

  “Of course not.” He looked at the birds again before closing his large hand around them. “Thank you.”

  This next part was a terrible risk, but she had missed their companionship.

  “I—I was wondering,” she began haltingly.

  “Yes?” Those sky-blue eyes pierced through her, as if seeing her every motive.

  A quick swallow gave her enough strength to go on. “We began as friends. Could we not continue as friends?”

  His gaze lifted until he looked past her entirely. And his expression hardened. “That’s not a good idea.”

  Her heart nearly failed.

  But he wasn’t done. “I have sent for a wife.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Have you corresponded then?” It was impertinent to ask, but the words came out of Louise’s mouth before she thought them through. “I’m sorry. That is none of my business.” But his every word had hurt. Foolish though it was, she had hoped that he would change his mind and not choose one of the women who had written in response to his advertisement. She had hoped time would rekindle what they once had between them.

  “I don’t know her.” He paused. “Yet.”

  “I—I hope you suit each other.” That wasn’t true. She hoped nothing of the sort. She hoped he found her offensive, loud and pushy. It was very wrong, but she could not help it.

  He nodded curtly. “It will suffice.”

  It? Suffice? He sounded like he was selecting a plow horse or a new carriage. At least her outrage throttled any possibility of tears. Perhaps she had been fortunate to escape a relationship with Jesse Hammond if that’s the way he thought of women.

  He shuffled his feet, clearly wanting this conversation to end. She would not give him that satisfaction.

  “You must know her name at the very least.”

  “Ruth. Ruth Pickett.”

  Then it was settled. He looked resolute, yet something flashed in his eyes. Longing? Or was she seeing the reflection of her own hopes?

  He cleared his throat and looked past her. “Well, if there’s nothing more, I need to get some sleep before the midnight watch.”

  “Oh.” She had forgotten that he sometimes worked overnight. “Of course. Good night.”

  For the briefest moment, sorrow crossed his expression. Then he gathered himself and left the room.

  Only then did the full impact of his announcement sink in. There was no hope. He might feel something for her, but the issue of children had become an impenetrable barrier between them.

  Within seconds Jane Blackthorn appeared. For her to get there that quickly, she must have been listening to the conversation.

  “My dear.” The woman crossed the room and clasped Louise’s hands. “I am so sorry. If I’d known I would never have sent him to you. What a foolish thing to do. Why, I never thought he would turn down someone as wonderful as you in favor of a mail-order bride. Why, if I had, I would never have suggested it.”

  “You suggested he place an advertisement for a wife?”

  “It was an offhand remark. I was trying to point out how much better it was to marry someone you know.”

  Louise squeezed shut her eyes as the frustration and pain finally summoned the tears.

  “Oh, dear,” Jane cried out. “I am so sorry. Is there anything I can get you? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

  “No. Nothing at all.” She didn’t want to go over the encounter in fine detail. She didn’t want sympathy. She certainly didn’t want to weep in Jane’s presence. “I am quite all right. We had no understanding. In fact, Jesse already told me that we could never be more than friends.”

  Oh, each word hurt! As much as she wanted to blame him, he had tried to give her fair warning. She was the one who had disregarded his cautions. If she had heeded them, she wouldn’t have been surprised or hurt.

  “When do you expect her?” Louise whispered.

&n
bsp; “I have no idea. This is the first I’ve heard of it. Well, I tell you, she will not be welcome in this house.”

  “Of course she will. You must accept her. I insist.” Louise managed a weak smile.

  “Oh, my dear, you are so kind. Even in the face of rejection! I wouldn’t be so understanding in your place.”

  Louise wouldn’t call herself understanding. She was hurting and wanted to escape to the boardinghouse and her room where she could cry out to God and listen for His comfort. Maybe in familiar verses she could find some purpose to this pain. Lord, reveal it.

  “I must go home.”

  “Of course.” Jane gave her hands one final squeeze. “Oh, if it’s not too much trouble, could you take some clothes with you to give to the families? I went through the attic and found a sack of old clothing from when the boys were younger. They’re not in the best condition but not entirely worn out either. Since those poor families have nothing, especially with Christmas coming, I thought it best for them to have the clothing.”

  “Yes, of course,” Louise said absently.

  As she followed Jane to the kitchen, a new thought spun through her mind. Christmas. The homeless families couldn’t afford to give their children anything on that special day, not even the tiniest practical item. How dreary the holiday would be after losing home and belongings. Most of the children didn’t even have a doll or a marble to play with.

  Jane pulled a small sack from the back porch. “If it’s too heavy, I can have Jesse bring it into town. Are you still at the boardinghouse?”

  “For now.” She lifted the sack, which was very light. “There’s no need to send him. I’m sure I can manage.”

  Jane gasped. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing to suggest. I can have one of the boys bring it when they go to school.”

  Louise forced a smile. “I can carry it quite easily. Thank you, Jane. I’m sure these will be put to good use.”

  Even if worn, Amanda and Mrs. Calloway could patch and repair. The families would appreciate anything, but a grander plan was forming in Louise’s mind. Singapore might not have its Christmas Festival anymore, but it could still celebrate Christmas in a new way. Instead of helping the businesses, the town could help those who had lost so much.

  * * *

  A week had passed, each day knotting Jesse’s stomach tighter than the last. Rather than look forward to meeting Miss Pickett, he could only see the disappointment etched on Louise’s face. Moreover, the nightmares had grown to the point that the images stayed with him into the day. Jesse couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely think. More than once Blackthorn had caught him making a mistake. Everything was going wrong.

  “You best be going to service this morning,” Mrs. Blackthorn stated when he came down from the tower at daybreak.

  “I don’t want you to miss a Sunday in advent.”

  “I won’t hear a word of protest,” she insisted. “Samuel’s under the weather and the children are old enough to attend on their own.”

  “If Mr. Blackthorn is ill, I can’t leave the lighthouse.”

  She waved off that idea. “Who do you think ran the light when he was feelin’ poorly in the past? Besides, it’s a calm, sunny day.” Before he could offer another excuse, she reiterated her insistence. “Not one word of protest, and I’ll be expecting you for Sunday dinner.”

  Jesse hadn’t attended a full service in a long time. After the war, he’d stopped attending. Then he attended but didn’t understand what the minister was trying to say. Jesse was educated, but that man used words that only the clergy and scholars understood. Since arriving in Singapore, he’d deferred in favor of the Blackthorn family almost every week.

  Today he sat stiffly on the rear bench that served as a pew and watched Mr. and Mrs. Evans go straight to the front with their daughter. Louise followed and joined them, but she did not so much as look his way. He deserved that.

  Jesse looked around the room and caught Roland’s attention. The man grinned and nodded. He then pointed to Pearl, who was readying a group of children to apparently sing or recite Scripture.

  A rather dilapidated man in a patched coat and mismatched trousers walked up the aisle. One of the homeless, Jesse supposed. Mrs. Blackthorn said she sent every old item of clothing to the church for helping out those who’d been displaced by the fire. Instead of stopping midway, the beggar walked all the way to the front. In fact, he stood at the lectern that served as a pulpit.

  “Welcome, friends,” the man said and was rewarded with a hearty response.

  “Welcome, Brother John!” the congregation answered with obvious delight.

  Brother John? He must be the itinerant preacher that Mrs. Blackthorn mentioned, the one who’d married Roland and Pearl, as well as Garrett and Amanda. Jesse sank a little lower on his pew. He hoped the man wasn’t here expecting to marry Jesse to Miss Pickett. For all Jesse knew, the woman might not show.

  “It’s good to be back,” Brother John’s voice boomed, filling the room. “It’s been too long, since last winter. I got slowed down a bunch when I broke my leg.”

  The congregation murmured sympathetically.

  “Now, now.” He motioned for them to quiet. “It wasn’t bad, and I knew that there was no need to check up on you, seeing as you’d been meeting together as a church for half a decade already.”

  “We missed you,” came a cry from the other side of the room.

  Brother John chuckled. “I missed you too. Today I’ll be talking about waiting on the Lord, but first Mrs. Smythe has something to ask all of you.”

  Louise? Talking in front of the congregation? Jesse’s heart pounded. If she hadn’t spotted him before, she would surely see him now. Their encounter last week had been awkward. Painful. For both of them. He sank a bit lower in order to hide behind the woman in front of him.

  Louise stepped to the front amid a host of whispers and the low rumble of possibilities. Jesse couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t all that much shorter than the pastor. That only reminded him of how wrong he’d been to judge her by her size. She was stronger physically and had greater fortitude than any woman he had ever met.

  Her voice was clear and unwavering. “I have spoken to several of you this week about an important matter. I would like to invite every citizen of Singapore to stay after the service for a few minutes to listen to the idea Fiona Evans and I have come up with.”

  Mrs. Calloway stood up. “I approve of it wholeheartedly, and any man or woman who says otherwise is not welcome at my boardinghouse.” She nodded emphatically to drive home the point and then sat down.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Calloway,” Louise said, though she didn’t look especially thankful.

  Jesse suspected she did not want to force people to do anything. Maybe that’s why she had just accepted his breaking off contact with her. Most of the women he’d considered in the past had sobbed and pleaded. Even Clarice had been all tears and pleas when her family insisted she end the courtship. Louise had done neither. In fact, she had wished him well. He didn’t know if he could be that gracious.

  Louise thanked everyone in advance and made her way to sit next to the Evans family.

  How pretty she was in that deep russet gown. He had never seen her wear anything but the nondescript beige print that did nothing for her complexion or features. This gown brought out the red highlights in her hair and warmed her pale complexion. Rather than small and insignificant, she commanded attention.

  He was glad when the opening hymn gave him an excuse to bow his head in order to look at the hymnal. Staring at Louise Smythe was neither proper nor helpful. Ruth Pickett was to be his new bride. The thought made his stomach clench again.

  After prayers and several songs, Brother John returned to the pulpit. The humble man who had spoken earlier turned into the most eloquen
t speaker Jesse had ever heard when preaching the Word. He drove straight to the point, and he might as well have been pointing a finger at Jesse. The gist of the message was impossible to miss. Man makes a mess of things when he doesn’t wait on God’s answer.

  Jesse had waited plenty, but not on the Lord. No, he’d dragged his feet for various reasons, and he’d even posed the question to God, asking Him to bring the right woman into his life, but he had not sought God’s answer. He had not waited. When circumstances made a decision necessary, he’d hurried ahead with his own plans. Was that why his stomach had knotted ever since sending that letter?

  He closed his eyes right then and there and humbled himself before God, pleading forgiveness for racing on ahead instead of waiting. When he opened his eyes, the congregation was standing and singing the closing hymn. Jesse hastily stood until the hymn was over.

  “Could all the children come with me, please? The older ones too,” Pearl said. “We are going to do something special outside before you go home.”

  Once she, Amanda Decker and the children had left, the preacher resumed. First, he asked all the visitors to leave. After they were gone, he turned to Louise.

  “Now, Mrs. Smythe.” Brother John stepped aside as Louise approached.

  She took his place behind the lectern and smiled at the congregation. “Friends, as you know, the businesses in town planned a festival before Christmas that was necessarily canceled.”

  Her voice was firm and confident. She radiated peace and a joy that amazed him. How could she know peace when he was a mess? Whatever it was, he wanted it too. All his peace had vanished on the river north of Memphis. The guilt that he hadn’t done enough to stop the situation wouldn’t go away. She seemed to carry no guilt or pain, yet he knew from her brief moments of personal revelation that her marriage had been painful. Even so, she had found peace.