Would-Be Mistletoe Wife

by Christine Johnson

  “...so I’m asking for your help,” Louise said.

  Jesse shook himself from his thoughts. He’d missed the bulk of her speech.

  “We need toys for the children, so they can have something new and filled with love for their Christmas. Amanda, Mrs. Calloway and I will sew dolls for the girls. Anyone willing to help can join us at the boardinghouse on Tuesday night. We will have a pattern there that you can follow.”

  A few women eagerly volunteered and asked questions, each of which Louise said she would answer on Tuesday.

  “For the boys,” she continued, “I’m looking for small wooden toys. Sailboats, blocks, whistles, anything that can be made in time for Christmas.”

  Garrett Decker stood. “I’ll lead the men’s crew. We’ll meet tonight at the mercantile.”

  Several men volunteered to make boats and blocks.

  Jesse stood. This was something he could do, something that would take his mind off the mess in his life. “I’ll make whistles. I can whittle a dozen by Christmas. They won’t be perfect, but they’ll work.”

  Louise beamed at him.

  He drank it in, and an unfamiliar feeling of joy welled up from deep inside. Doing something for others. That was it. Helping the needy was the answer, not running away to an island. He could have shouted praises, because in that moment he saw with clarity what had been shrouded in shadow for so very long.

  “Thank you,” Louise said.

  Two simple words, but they soaked and nourished his soul like nothing had in a very long time. He longed for the friendship they’d once had, for her smile that brightened the gloomiest day, for the gentle understanding that washed away the nightmares. If only...

  “Excuse me?” An unfamiliar female voice pierced the air like the sawmill’s steam whistle.

  Jesse turned toward the doorway along with the rest.

  A woman he’d never seen before stood just inside the door. She was tall and robust. Her features were pleasant and her honey-gold hair shone in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

  She smiled back at the congregation. “Howdy, folks! I’m lookin’ fer a Mr. Jesse Hammond.”

  She held up a letter. His letter.

  His stomach clenched. He wanted to hide, to deny his very name, but he couldn’t.

  “Miss Pickett?” he managed to squeak out.

  “Why, yes I am. Miss Ruth Pickett. Are you Mr. Hammond?”

  Why Lord, when everything had just become clear?

  There was no avoiding this. He nodded.

  She walked to him and stuck out her gloved hand. “I’m plumb tickled ta meet my fiancé.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Louise had hurried away after the briefest introduction, but she could not avoid the pain that seared through her every time she thought of Miss Ruth Pickett. Though Jesse had told Louise that he planned to marry this woman, it hadn’t seemed real until she heard Ruth declare their engagement.

  Louise could not entirely avoid Ruth, who lodged at the boardinghouse, but she did her best by taking on every task and opportunity to go elsewhere. Between coordinating the Christmas festivities and toy construction as well as readying for school next semester, she shouldn’t have time to weep. Yet each night when she lay down after saying her prayers and after her roommates, Dinah and Linore, stopped chattering, her thoughts drifted to Jesse and his new bride-to-be. In the darkness with only Linore’s light snoring to break the silence, she could not stop the memories and the thoughts.

  It didn’t just hurt that he’d rejected her, but he’d chosen an impersonal, mail-order bride instead. True, she had come to Singapore in exactly the same manner. Never had she considered that her answering the advertisement might bring heartache to another woman.

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. What mattered now was helping those families who were hurting. The children’s joy would have to replace the empty place in her heart.

  “Lord, if I am destined never to have a family of my own, take away this desire,” she prayed softly.

  Dinah, who shared the big bed with her, rolled over. “I know I’m young and all, but everyone can tell he loves you, not that Miss Pickett.”

  Though Louise thrilled at Dinah’s words, she chastised herself for whispering the prayer aloud. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I thought you were asleep.”

  “It’s all right. I been praying for you.”

  Louise was ashamed. Dinah, who ought to be enjoying the attention of suitors at her age, had the consideration to pray for others. Louise had not been as stalwart in her prayers for the students.

  “Thank you. I will pray for you also.”

  “Maybe you can pray that Donnie Lewis notices me?”

  Louise smiled at the girl’s hopefulness. “I’ve learned that it’s best to let God bring the right man into our lives.” In her case, that man apparently was not Jesse.

  “Well then, pray that Donnie’s the right man.”

  Louise didn’t push the point. Instead she wished the girl pleasant dreams and turned toward the window. It was bitterly cold with only a crescent moon to cast the tiniest bit of light into the room. No need to pull the curtains. The girls slept soundly. She was the one tormented by lost hopes.

  Forgive me, Lord. I must accept what is, as Brother John preached, and wait on Your perfect timing. To arrange things according to my wants and desires is to invite disaster.

  Maybe that was what had ruined their relationship. She hadn’t been completely honest with Jesse from the start. If she had, perhaps he would have seen her differently. He certainly would have treated her differently, and no romance would have sprung up between them.

  Cold radiated through the thin windowpanes. By morning she would feel a chill almost cold enough to see her breath. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

  Was it wrong to long for children and a husband? Was it wrong to hope for a family?

  If only she knew God’s answer.

  Trust.

  The word came to mind as if from nowhere. It all came down to trust. Did she trust God’s plan enough to let Him do the work? Could she pray and trust like the Biblical Hannah instead of taking matters into her own hands like Abraham’s wife, Sarah?

  In the cold silence of night, she knew that was the only answer. She released her sorrow and her hopes to God. Who was she to guess the Lord’s plan? If He had planted the desire in her heart, then He would fulfill it. If not Jesse, then in another way that she could not now imagine. Best of all, it would be the right way.

  At last, secure in His hands, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Jesse knew at once that if he married Ruth Pickett, it would be a mistake, but he had more or less proposed in the letter. He could not go back on a promise. Still, whenever he looked at her, he could only see how different she was from Louise.

  Louise’s lips were more expressive. Her hair had rich highlights. Her gray eyes calmed his very soul. She could converse on any topic. She was far more secure than Ruth, who nervously hopped from topic to topic as if afraid of one moment of silence.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he confided to Roland the next time he went to the mercantile. “I can’t imagine a lifetime with Miss Pickett, yet that is what I have apparently promised.”

  His friend mused a moment. “What exactly did you tell her?”

  “I wrote that I was seeking a wife and she met the qualifications. That I’d be pleased if she would come to Singapore.”

  Roland whistled. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What did you promise her when she got here?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. I didn’t write down a copy of the letter, and I sent it in haste. I don’t think I formally proposed, but it doesn’t matter. The intent was there
. I need to stand by my word, even though...”

  “Even though?”

  This was the hard part. “Even though she’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Roland asked with a grin. “Someone more like Louise?”

  Jesse squirmed. He didn’t realize his feelings were so obvious. “She has good—no, excellent—qualities, but...”

  “But?”

  The mercantile door opened, sparing Jesse from finding a believable reason why he couldn’t marry Louise. He could never reveal her secret, even to mutual friends. Both he and Roland glanced toward the door. It was Roland’s wife.

  Pearl Decker unbuttoned her coat and joined them. “A chill is in the air. Perhaps we will have snow for Christmas after all.”

  “Maybe.” Roland took the hat from his wife’s hands and then swept that hand to his lips in a lavish kiss. “Mrs. Decker, you look extremely beautiful today.”

  She blushed with obvious delight and then looked at Jesse. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” Roland answered. “Jesse’s just in a bit of a quandary.”

  Her attention returned to Jesse. “What sort of quandary?”

  It had been difficult telling Roland. It would be impossible to tell his wife.

  “I don’t want to bother you,” he hedged.

  “It’s no bother,” Roland said brightly before turning back to his wife. “You see, Jesse invited Miss Pickett to meet him and apparently led her to believe they are already engaged to marry.”

  Jesse’s face burned. “I don’t recall exactly what I wrote.”

  “You could ask her,” Pearl suggested.

  That was the last thing Jesse could do. During each of the calls he’d paid on her at the boardinghouse, Ruth had babbled on without letting him get more than a word in here and there. No, his course was set, and there was no getting out of it.

  “I must honor any agreement, no matter how unintended.”

  Pearl’s sympathetic look didn’t help. “You are a man of honor. It’s true that Miss Pickett is nothing like Louise, but companionship will grow over time.”

  Time. The thought didn’t give him much comfort. “She seems to think I already love her. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Tell her how you feel,” Pearl said simply. “A woman wants to know the truth. Then you can start on the foundation of mutual understanding.”

  At that moment, the door to the mercantile flung open, jangling the bell and ushering in Ruth Pickett.

  Jesse’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready to step forward even though he knew deep down that Pearl’s counsel was the correct course.

  “Jesse Hammond,” Ruth exclaimed. “There you are. I went all the way to the lighthouse lookin’ fer you ’n Mrs. Blackthorn said you gone down here.”

  Jesse gritted his teeth and tried to focus on Ruth’s virtues. She had boundless energy and was excited with every new thing. She seemed taken with him and ecstatic over the prospect of marriage. She did indeed fit the qualifications he thought he’d wanted in a wife. She had held up her end of the agreement admirably. It wasn’t her fault that he’d leapt forward when he should have placed the matter before God and waited on His answer.

  Roland and Pearl tactfully slipped away from the counter.

  “Please excuse me,” Pearl pleaded. “I have to work on some of the dolls.”

  “Oh, the Christmas toys,” Ruth Pickett cried out as she grabbed onto Jesse’s arm. “I wanna help too. Kin I paint them whistles of yours?”

  It was too much. He disliked how Ruth was always grabbing his arm and begging to do things with him. He wasn’t ready. Why couldn’t she be more like Louise? The frustration of the past five days reached a boiling point.

  “Lord, help me,” he silently pleaded, as he extracted his arm from her grasp. He didn’t want to lash out at Ruth. She was the innocent in this whole mess.

  He mustered a brief smile. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not yet certain if I want to paint them.”

  “Of course they gotta be painted. Children like bright colors.”

  That was true, but he needed time alone to accept this future he’d made for himself.

  He took another stab at it. “I wanted to varnish them.”

  Her expression fell.

  “On the other hand, you might have a point,” he admitted.

  Ruth beamed at him. “’Course I got a point. I know what little ones like.”

  Though her words reinforced what Jesse thought he’d wanted—children—they brought no comfort.

  “We kin start right now,” she added.

  “I can’t.” The words came out too quickly.

  “Why not?”

  “I have duties to complete at the lighthouse.”

  She brightened. “I kin help. I gotta learn it all anyway.”

  “No.” He swallowed, again regretting the abrupt response. “There are very specific regulations that govern every aspect of the light keeping process.”

  She frowned. “Are you sayin’ I cain’t help?”

  “I’m saying, well...it wouldn’t be wise.”

  Her puzzlement evaporated. “Oh! Until we’re married, you mean.” She giggled. “You’re such a stickler fer the rules. Life isn’t that orderly.”

  It sure wasn’t. Jesse could tell she was ready to start arguing again that she should help him.

  “It has to be this way,” he said firmly.

  Again her expression fell.

  Jesse felt terrible. Maybe Pearl was right, and he should tell her exactly how he felt. But here? In the mercantile? No, that was better said elsewhere. But where? Not at the boardinghouse where Louise might overhear. Not at the lighthouse. No, this was his best chance. No one was in the store except Roland, who tidied shelves in the rear.

  “Listen, Miss Pickett. Ruth.” He faced her squarely and looked into her eyes. “I need time to get used to this.”

  Her expression hardened. “What’re you sayin’?”

  As much as he wanted to end this, he could not. Ruth was his future. Louise must become a distant memory. Once he moved to another lighthouse, it would get easier. For now, he must honor his commitment.

  “Give me time to sort out what you can and cannot do...according to regulation.”

  “There’s that regulation again.” She shook her head in disapproval. “Why you so stuck on them?”

  “Because they ensure safety for everyone. It’s my job, and it’s who I am.”

  “Oh. Guess I’ll go help the ladies sew, then.” She whisked away, without giving Jesse a second glance.

  A man could think Ruth Pickett was only interested in the idea of marriage, not in the man she was marrying. With a rueful shake of the head, Jesse supposed he deserved that, but it didn’t solve the problem. To begin their relationship honestly, he must confess his prior attachment to Louise, and he needed to do it at once.

  * * *

  “Forgive me, but I’m struggling to remain cordial around Miss Pickett,” Louise said to Amanda Decker after the woman had sashayed past them on her way to the parlor to sew button eyes on the stuffed dolls. Since Mrs. Calloway, Dinah, Linore and Mrs. Wardman were in the parlor already, Ruth would have much company. “Mrs. Calloway and the girls try to keep us apart, but she seems to seek me out. Do you think she knows that Jesse and I were once...friends?”

  Amanda didn’t comment on the term Louise had chosen to describe her relationship with Jesse. “Maybe he told her.”

  “Oh, my.” If Jesse had revealed that, then he was determined to marry Ruth Pickett. “I suppose he would, wouldn’t he?”

  Amanda put her hand over Louise’s hand. “I’m here for you. So are Pearl and Fiona.”

  Louise squeezed Amanda’s hand, grateful
for the offer, but it did nothing to relieve the pain. “I will be glad to return to the school.”

  “And Miss Bennington?” Amanda completed the stitching on another doll and handed it to her.

  Louise turned it right-side out and began stuffing it. “Priscilla will be a welcome change.”

  “Because she could never have captured Mr. Hammond’s attention?”

  Hearing her thoughts spoken aloud sent heat to Louise’s cheeks. “No, that’s not it.” But it was, and Louise had vowed to pursue honesty after seeing what withholding the truth had done to her relationship with Jesse. She sighed. “That’s not true. I’m ashamed to say that Priscilla’s interest in Jesse did make me jealous. But—” Tears rose to her eyes. “Miss Pickett is going to be his wife.”

  Amanda touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  The consolation of a friend was almost too much. Louise turned her face away so Amanda wouldn’t see her tears. “I wonder how she’ll feel about living on a remote island.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jesse expects to get the head keeper’s position at a lighthouse on the island of South Manitou. I don’t think there’s much there.”

  Amanda thought a moment. “How would you feel about living so far from friends and family?”

  “I’m already far from family.” She hoped the bitterness didn’t show in her voice. Her sister didn’t want to see her, and her mother loved only Louise’s sister. There was no one else back in New York. “But I would greatly miss my friends here.” This time she mustered a smile.

  “Then maybe it’s for the best.”

  “Perhaps. I’ve prayed about it and am trying to accept whatever happens.”

  “You will, and, as you said, you won’t have to be around them for long.”

  That thought didn’t console. “How could he marry someone he doesn’t know, someone so completely wrong for him?”

  Amanda gave her a brief smile. “Maybe he’s afraid.”

  “Afraid?”

  She sighed. “Garrett was terrified of remarrying. He’d been through so much with his first wife, that the thought of marrying someone else was more than he could bear. He wanted to hide away with his children and not let anyone get close to him.”