Emily

by Cheryl Wright

  The truth was, he didn’t want to leave. He really liked Miss Emily Stanton, and they’d only just met.

  Chapter Two

  Standing at the head of the table, Emily introduced Patrick to the other lodgers. “Everyone, this is Patrick Harper. He has occupied room five.”

  All heads turned their way. “This is George, Aaron, Jesse, Zachary…” The names all became a blur. It wasn’t Patrick’s strong point, that was for sure, but he would soon learn them.

  “You sit there,” she said, indicating an empty chair at the other end of the table. “Supper won’t be long.”

  The other men reached for the bread, so Patrick did the same. Butter sat in the center of the table, and was passed around.

  Soon supper sat in front of each man, then they bowed their heads, and Emily said a prayer of thanks.

  Supper was a noisy affair. He’d never sat at a table with so many people. He’d grown up with just the four in their family, so this was an eye-opener.

  He knew for sure there were families bigger than his. The Piker family down the road had ten children. He was sure glad he wasn’t part of that family.

  Patrick glanced down at his plate. The food was good. Emily was a good cook – she’d no doubt had plenty of practice. “This is good,” he heard himself say.

  He looked up to see her blushing.

  The other lodgers stared at him. Did no one here ever compliment her cooking? If that were so, it was a sad state of affairs. The fact they were paying rent did not negate politeness.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, then dipped her head.

  When the main course was over, she began to collect up all the soiled dishes. Patrick jumped up and began to help. “You don’t need to do that,” she said.

  He paused momentarily and felt the collective glares before he saw them. “I don’t mind. In fact I prefer to help,” he said, ignoring the stares from around the table.

  He followed her into the kitchen.

  “Just put them in there,” she said, indicating the sink. She turned and snatched up several of the desserts that were waiting on the counter top. He followed suit.

  “You honestly don’t have to do that,” she said, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. “I’ve been doing it alone for many years.”

  He stared at her momentarily. “A burden shared…” He let the words hang between them, and she nodded.

  They returned to the dining room and all talk suddenly stopped. He helped hand out the desserts, then took his place. All eyes were on him.

  Why didn’t these men like him helping out? Did they think they were above all that? He was brought up differently. His mother had worked hard in his father’s bakery and everyone pitched in at home.

  Like it or not, he would continue to help whenever he was able.

  Starting with that kitchen. Not only did it look terrible, it was a hazard. Emily’s gown could easily get caught up in the parts of the door that were currently swinging around.

  He groaned inwardly. How had she even managed to work in such a hazardous place? He knew that answer was she had no choice.

  He helped clear the dessert dishes away, and surveyed the kitchen again. “I’ll take a look at those cupboard doors tomorrow.”

  She glanced up at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I want to. I hate the thought of you working in here with them like that. It’s not safe.”

  Emily reached toward an overhead cupboard and pulled out eight mugs, placing them on the counter top ready for filling.

  He watched as she carefully filled each one ready for distribution to the house guests. “You’ve got a system, haven’t you?”

  She grinned at him. “I do, and it works.”

  “My brother is a baker – he works in the same way. He says it’s more efficient, but I often wonder if there’s more to it.”

  She laughed and the sound sent a thrill down his spine. He stiffened.

  “Once you learn what works best, you stick to it. Finding it can take time though.”

  He didn’t trust himself to speak, and nodded.

  “I watched my mother do all this,” she indicated with her hands, “For many years. I basically followed in her footsteps.”

  She finished filling the mugs and he reached for them. “Leave them,” she said abruptly. “You’re going to end up with a bad reputation. I saw the reaction you got from the other men. You don’t want repercussions.”

  Emily stared at him, daring him to disagree.

  But he could outstare the best of them. “I don’t care what they think,” he said gently. “Let me help.”

  She nodded then reached for a tray and loaded the filled mugs onto them. All except two that wouldn’t fit. “It’s too heavy for me, so perhaps you wouldn’t mind carrying it?”

  “Of course.”

  He picked it up and could see why she wouldn’t be able to carry it. She was a petite woman, and stood far below his shoulder. The weight would be far too much for her.

  He carried the beverages into the sitting room where the men had retired. He was beginning to see what was going on here. Emily was being treated like a slave.

  They had collectively decided if they paid rent, they didn’t have to do anything. He would like to see that change.

  Emily carried their mugs into the dining room. He totally understood her reasoning – the further away from these fools the better as far as he was concerned.

  He stared over his mug at her, only to discover she was studying him too. So far he liked Grand Falls. It wasn’t tiny but wasn’t overly big either. The work he would do with Sawdust Harry would change all that.

  “How long are you staying?”

  Her words startled him out of his thoughts and he shook himself. “No idea at this point.” Hopefully a very long time. He already had feelings for Emily and he’d known her for less than twenty-four hours. How would he feel after a few weeks?

  She looked deflated.

  “Definitely long enough to fix those cupboards, and probably long enough to do more.” If Harry Johnson had been truthful, there was enough work to last for nearly a year, possibly longer.

  The noise coming from the sitting room was becoming distracting. “Would you like to go for a stroll?” She frowned, but a smile formed on her lips. “We don’t have to if you don’t…”

  She interrupted him. “I do, but worry about that lot.”

  He stood and took her empty mug from her hands and headed toward the kitchen. “I’m sure they’ll cope.” Then a thought struck him. “How often do you get time for yourself?”

  As she leaned against the kitchen counter she stared at the floor. “Not often.” Her words were soft, and he could hear the guilt creep into them.

  He rinsed their mugs, then reached for her hand. “That changes now.” Patrick saw the light spark in her eyes, and knew this was exactly what she needed.

  There was a chill in the air at night, she told him, then went to her private lodgings to get her coat. He did the same.

  While he waited in the foyer he listened to the raucous laughter of the other lodgers. Despite having met them only briefly, he knew them.

  He’d met their sort before – treated women like slaves. He was certain that was happening here. Patrick had studied them as their food was placed in front of them, seen how they glared at him when he helped.

  They were more than worried he would set a precedence and their easy lives would change. He certainly hoped that happened, and sooner rather than later. Emily looked exhausted.

  Caring for seven grown men shouldn’t be that hard, that demanding, but this lot had made it so.

  He stared as she came slowly down the stairs. She’d fixed her hair. Not that it had needed fixing, but she’d let it down.

  It suited her. He moved toward her as she was almost at the bottom of the stairs and held out his arm to her to take.

  “You look lovely,” he said quietly.

  She patted her hair. �
��Thank you,” she whispered, averting her eyes. Had she not been complimented before? That would be a terrible shame – she was a beautiful woman who needed to be praised.

  She pulled on her gloves as they went outside, and Patrick did the same. He’d lived in Montana all his life, but he still couldn’t get used to the bone-chilling night air.

  She led him down the alleyway they’d traveled down earlier today, except now it was dark and eerie. “I won’t walk along here alone at night,” she said, glancing across at him. “Not that we have a lot of crime here.

  He held her hand tighter, and she glanced at him again. “Thank you for taking me out. Sometimes that lot gets to me.”

  Patrick could totally understand that. “Do they ever give you trouble?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, and turned her head away. “Not really,” she said quietly.

  He could feel anger building inside him. “What does that mean?” He could feel himself tensing, and was certain she could feel it too.

  “You saw them. They are a lazy lot. At least they’ll be gone soon and a new bunch will come in.” She brushed back a stray piece of hair, and he desperately wanted to do the same.

  They came to the end of the alleyway and headed toward the main road where they walked along the wooden sideboard.

  Emily pointed out some of the businesses along the main road. “This is the Saw Mill office. I’m guessing you’ll have dealings with Daniel Carson who owns the saw mill.”

  They moved along to the next shop. “You’ve seen the Mercantile. Over there is the diner, then we have the dressmaker, and the bank. The doctor’s office is out of town a little, but not far.”

  As she continued to point out the businesses, Patrick had lost interest. Not that he didn’t want to learn about the town, but he’d prefer to learn about Emily Stanton.

  She was much more interesting.

  They stood side by side at the railing and he looked about. He could definitely see himself living here long-term. Especially if Emily was part of the deal.

  He had never before felt drawn to a woman, and had not understood how his brother had been smitten with his mail-order bride after such a short time.

  He was beginning to understand.

  “Is there any night-life here?” he asked. Not that he went out much – there hadn’t been much time for that.

  “Only if you like to have a drink. The Commercial is a little further down the road. You can see the lights if you stare hard enough.”

  He wasn’t interested. He’d seen enough men who couldn’t hold their liquor, who’d taken it out on their wives. Most had drank away their food money. Patrick wasn’t into that.

  He worked hard for a living and would spend his money wisely.

  “I’m not interested,” he said gently. “I’d rather stay at home and have an interesting conversation with someone I care about.”

  She stared at him. “Except there is no one in Grand Falls you care about. Is there?”

  He grimaced and she averted her eyes. “As it happens, there is,” he said firmly. “I really don’t know you Emily Stanton, but I don’t like the way you are being treated.”

  She waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about them. I can handle even the most vile of men.” She stiffened and it made him wonder.

  Had she been accosted by one of her lodgers? He certainly hoped not.

  “We should go back,” she said, hooking her arm through his again. “It’s been nice to get out, but I still have some cleaning up to do.”

  He nodded. What else could he do? The last thing he wanted to do was make Emily’s life more difficult. Starting tomorrow, he would do whatever he could to make it easier for her.

  * * *

  Emily’s eyes fluttered open at the crack of dawn. Sunlight filtered through the too-thin curtains, and she stretched herself out to her full length.

  She slowly slid to the side of the bed, her feet hitting the cold floor. It made her wake up quickly.

  She’d moved the rug from the bedside to ensure she did exactly that. Otherwise, she walked around in a haze for far too long.

  She made her way to the converted bathroom where she had indoor plumbing. It cost a whole two months rent, but it was worth the expense. She’d had the men’s bathroom converted at the same time which had saved quite a bit of money.

  It had really gone against the grain to waste precious money on such an indulgence, but she had never regretted it.

  Emily stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She’d slept better last night than she had for ages. Perhaps it was the fresh air from her walk last night.

  Her walk with Patrick…

  She shook herself and tried to keep in mind he was just passing through. For sure Patrick wouldn’t be here long. As soon as he was settled, he would find permanent accommodation and she would never see him again.

  The thought made her miserable.

  Emily had never been interested in men. She’d never had the time, and besides, she’d never met a man who caught her attention.

  Patrick was different. He was well spoken, helpful, and…her heart skipped a beat when he was near.

  She sucked in a breath.

  She was not interested in Patrick Harper, and more likely than not, he was far from interested in her.

  She would keep telling herself until she was convinced.

  She splashed cold water on her face and dried it off, then pulled on her undergarments and a house-dress. Catching a glimpse of it in the mirror, Emily decided she needed to revamp her wardrobe. This gown was more than a little threadbare. Her remaining gowns were even worse.

  She stared at her reflection. Why would she worry about that now? She’d never bothered before.

  It was right there, in the back of her mind – Patrick Harper was the reason why. She wanted to look her best for him.

  She stiffened.

  She’d give him a week, and guaranteed, he’d be gone. Sawdust Harry would set him up somewhere else. Probably somewhere closer to wherever they were working.

  Emily snatched up her keys and opened the door to her private accommodation. When her grandfather had decided to set up the boarding house, he’d ensured his family’s privacy by setting up what amounted to an apartment.

  If you didn’t know better, it could be seen as a family home. There was a kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, and three bedrooms, with the master bedroom far larger than the other two rooms.

  As it had turned out, by the time her father had taken over the business, she was the only child, so one room stood empty.

  Father wanted to utilize the room further and rent it out, but Mother would have none of it. Emily had heard them argue over it several times.

  If he had his way, Mother said it would put Emily in both moral and physical danger. She hadn’t understood it at the time, but she certainly did now.

  She was more than a little relieved her mother had stood up for her.

  As she slowly went downstairs, Emily reveled in the quiet that surrounded the house. Most of the men would still be sleeping, but it wouldn’t be long and they’d be up and demanding breakfast.

  She sighed. The business had become a burden she no longer wanted to bear but it was too late now. She had no choice in the matter. Unless she decided to sell. There were no other heirs to the business, so that was an option worth exploring.

  She groaned softly. Father would be turning over in his grave. On the other hand, Mother would be applauding her.

  As she stood in the doorway to the kitchen, Emily heard muffled sounds behind her and turned, then gasped.

  “Oh! It’s you Mr Jasper.” She put her hands to her chest. “You startled me.” She turned back to enter the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on and you can have a coffee if you’d like.”

  “What I’d like, Missy, is you.” He lunged toward her and leered. Emily found herself pushed up against the center counter.

  Her hands went up and she pushed against him, but the man was far bigg
er than her, and strong. Really strong.

  “Stand back and get your hands off the lady.” Patrick’s voice rang out loud and clear through the room.

  Where had he come from?

  He moved around the counter and stood next to her assailant. She glanced across long enough to see the anger on his face. Aaron Jasper hadn’t moved, not one inch.

  “Last chance.” Patrick stretched to his full height and towered above the man pinning her to the counter. His hand suddenly landed on Aaron’s shoulder, and he pulled the man backwards and away from her.

  Emily’s heart pounded. She felt light-headed and downright terrified.

  She stood helplessly watching as Patrick marched the man roughly into the sitting room. She stared as he pushed him into a chair then spoke to him.

  No, that was untrue. Patrick lectured him. His body language told her everything.

  By the time he returned to the kitchen, Emily had her heart rate under control, and the kettle was near boiling.

  She stood at the counter facing the doorway. The last thing she needed was for someone to creep up on her again.

  He stared at her, then came to stand beside her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  Emily glanced up at him – what she really wanted to do right now was to lean into him, to feel his comforting arms around her. But that wouldn’t do. She was a strong woman, she’d proved that time and time again.

  She would not let down her defenses over such a silly incident.

  So instead she moved to the cupboard and pulled out two mugs, ready for coffee. As she turned, she discovered the reason he’d been in the kitchen, out of sight.

  Spread across the floor, on the other side of the counter was a variety of tools – hammer, screwdrivers and a saw. One of the cupboard doors lay haphazardly on the floor.

  She stared at it, not making sense of anything.

  “What…” She couldn’t comprehend the situation but knew something was wrong. The sound of crockery hitting the floor had her even more confused.

  She stared down at the shattered mess. Gentle hands held hers and led her out of her former safe place. Everything was a blur and she was barely registering what was going on.