Emily

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Emily Page 6

by Cheryl Wright


  The building was old, there was no doubt. Patrick wondered how Emily had even managed with it this long.

  There was so much he could do around the place to help her, but she was already vocal about him “spending his precious personal time” fixing her kitchen doors.

  The truth was, he was reveling in spending time with her. He didn’t care if he gave up his “personal time” – any time with Emily was special.

  She leaned down and handed him a mug of water. “Thanks,” he said, accepting it gratefully. It was quite warm in the kitchen with the wood stove running full blast. As well as the oven, she also had a stew cooking on the stove top.

  He glanced up to where she was adding ingredients to yet another bowl. Coming from a family of bakers and cooks he recognized a batch of biscuits before she even emptied the dough onto the counter.

  His Emily was the best cook.

  He hesitated. His Emily?

  A smile came to his face. Since he was courting her, he truly could say say that. Every moment he spent with her was precious.

  The lodgers had changed their ways and now appreciated all she had done for them, now treating her with the respect she deserved.

  “This one is finished,” Patrick said, standing up and stretching. “Which one is next?”

  She stopped what she was doing and frowned. “You’ve done far too much already. I hate that you work hard all day, then come home and continue working.”

  This was a quick job compared to his daily workload. He’d already fixed her wardrobe door, and now this one cupboard door. He was more than ready to do more.

  She looked truly unhappy, and he needed to remedy the situation. Patrick stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace.

  “Emily,” he whispered, “Helping you is not a hardship. In fact, it makes my heart happy.” He leaned back and gazed into her face.

  Her lips called out to him, and his head slowly came down, giving her the opportunity to pull back. He hoped she wouldn’t, but he had to give her the choice.

  She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, pleading with him to kiss her.

  And that’s exactly what he did.

  Emily closed her eyes and waited for the contact, and he almost chuckled at the sight. She was so sweet, so very innocent, and he adored her for it.

  His lips brushed gently across hers, and even with the slightest touch, a tingle went down his spine. Patrick pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time a little deeper. He shivered as her arms snaked around him, not wanting to break the connection but fully aware of everything they were both yet to do before supper.

  “Ahem.”

  They quickly separated at the sound coming from the doorway.

  “I wondered if I could set the table for you,” George said sheepishly, giving Patrick a wink. “Ah, your back is covered in flour,” he said, as he gathered up the cutlery.

  Emily stared at her hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot I was covered in flour and dough.” She began to brush at his back.

  Patrick wasn’t bothered. He would just change his shirt. “I’m not sorry,” he said cheekily, as he left the room to change.

  Emily stared at him open-mouthed.

  Chapter Seven

  It had taken a couple of weeks, but the kitchen cupboards had all been replaced and were now working.

  Much to her dismay, Patrick had busied himself with other repairs around the place. Bookshelves, chairs, and even the bathroom cupboard.

  He was a Godsend in many ways, and Emily truly appreciated him being there, but she hated that all his spare time was taken up making repairs.

  They had been courting for some weeks now, but Emily was concerned. Not about the fact they were courting, she was certain she was in love with the magnificent Patrick Harper.

  Her concern lay in the future of the boarding house. It had been in her family for three generations – what plans did Patrick have if they did eventually marry?

  She had to stay here to look after the boarding house and lodgers. Would he agree to that, or would he wholly object?

  Her heart ached. These are things she should have discussed with him when he first asked permission to court her. But honestly, she hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  It was then she realized there was no promise of marriage. Just because she was being courted did not mean Patrick intended to marry her.

  She sat at her dressing table brushing her hair. Fifty strokes every night before bed. It was a ritual she had been undertaking since she was a young girl, except back then her mother did the brushing.

  Emily truly missed her mother, but knew it was this place that put her in an early grave. Her eyes filled with tears for the mother she dearly loved and would never see again.

  She closed her eyes and prayed. Even in her grief she knew Mother was in a better place. She was always such a frail and sickly woman. Working herself to the bone had not helped.

  It was in that moment she realized Patrick was right about her own state of health. She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. She looked much more healthy now than she had when he arrived. She’d even filled out to the extent she should replace some of her gowns.

  Oh, they still fit, but some were a tad tight. They were all threadbare except for her most recent purchase, the lilac gingham gown which Patrick adored on her.

  She made a decision to replace her ailing wardrobe. Going by her past experience, having new clothes would also lift her spirits.

  Emily finished brushing her hair then climbed into bed. She lay staring at the ceiling until her eyes fluttered closed and her dreams were filled with thoughts of Patrick Harper.

  * * *

  “Good morning, Mr Delbert,” Emily said. She had perused the range of fabrics at the Mercantile and chosen a few she liked. “Do you have a copy of The Delineator?”

  “Butterick’s pattern catalog? I do indeed Miss Stanton, but unless I have your chosen pattern in stock, you could wait up to a month for it to arrive.”

  A month? Emily felt deflated. After the response she’d had from her recent new gown, she’d felt a whole lot better. Perhaps it was all in her head, but things seemed to be picking up.

  Patrick had particularly liked her that gown, and she always felt really good around him. On second thought, that may not have had anything to do with the gown. She chuckled to herself.

  “Flick through and let me know what patterns you’d like. I can check if I have them here already.” He glanced across the room. “Or you can look for yourself. They’re in the corner over there.”

  Emily went through the patterns currently available, the dust tickling her nose. Apparently they were not the most popular items in the store, which surprised her.

  She pulled two patterns from the box, and chose three different fabrics, her favorite was white poplin with dainty lilac flowers. She would never have considered lilac in the past, but Patrick seemed to admire the color on her…

  It had been quite a time since Emily had done any sewing, but she’d been very competent at the time. If she got into any strife, she could always call on Joe Harkley who was the local tailor. They went to school together, and surely he would help her.

  Heck, maybe she should take the material and patterns straight to Joe and save herself the trouble.

  Still undecided, she took her purchases to the counter, and Cecil Delbert added them to her account, along with the pretty lace she’d found tucked away in a corner of the store.

  She clutched the paper bag and headed for home. She had to pass Joe’s tailor shop on her way, and decided to pop in and say hello.

  Joe’s father was the original tailor, but had trained his son from a young age to eventually take over. Tragedy had struck some years earlier, and her friend became the sole proprietor.

  “Emily! What are you doing here?” Joe asked. “It been a long time.” He looked her up and down. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.”

  He stepped toward her and pulled
her into a friendly hug. “What brings you here?”

  Emily hugged him back, then pulled out of his grip. “Well…” Still undecided, she wasn’t sure what to tell him. “I, er.” She looked down at the paper bag.

  “I bought some material and patterns, but now I’m not so sure I have the skills or the time to make them.” There, she’d said it.

  He reached out for the package. “Let me see.” He opened the bag, pulling out the contents. He studied the paper patterns, then checked the fabric. He flicked the fabrics open until they ran the full length of his cutting table, then studied them some more.

  He looked Emily up and down again, and took some measurements, noting them in a book, not saying a word.

  Joe indicated for her to sit while he did some calculations. Finally he lifted his head. “I’d love to do this for you, Emily. As a sign of our enduring friendship, I will give you a discounted rate.”

  She quickly stood. “Oh no! No, you mustn’t.” Her heart was racing. That wasn’t what she wanted to achieve coming here to her friend for help.

  He shushed her by putting a finger to her lips. “Here is an account for the three gowns.” He handed her a sheet out of his account book. “It would normally be much more, but you’ve supplied the patterns and materials, so the price is far lower.”

  She hesitated. It didn’t seem much for all the work involved. Each gown would take several days if she sewed them herself. Of course Joe had a sewing machine.

  “The first one will be ready this time tomorrow if you decide to go ahead.”

  She liked the sound of that. “Yes, please do. It will save me such a lot of work.”

  He beamed. “I can already picture these beautiful fabrics on you. Next time, come here first – I have several fabrics the Mercantile cannot supply.”

  She nodded. What had she been thinking? Of course this was a far better option, and many of the local women came to Joe for their clothing needs. He called himself a tailor, but he did far more than men’s suits.

  “Perhaps,” she said, glancing around the room at the beautiful fabrics he had. “You could make a some more gowns for me?”

  His eyes lit up. “Of course, but the price will be higher since I’ll be supplying the fabric.”

  She agreed, and they chose two different fabrics. Emily agreed to leave the designs up to Joe. She trusted him implicitly.

  “Right. Come back around this time tomorrow, or later if it suits you better, and one gown will be done. Otherwise, give me at least a week to do them all.”

  Emily thought for a moment, her hand resting on her chin. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then.” They said their goodbyes and she left the store, a song in her heart at the thought of a new wardrobe of clothes.

  But more than that, the thought of what a new wardrobe would do to her spirits.

  It had been far too long since she’d indulged herself like this. Her heart skipped a beat as Emily headed back to the boarding house.

  * * *

  True to his word, Joe had a package waiting for her when Emily returned the next day.

  It contained not one, but two gowns – one was a simple house-gown, using one of the patterns she supplied, and the other was a little more fancy, and would be good for both church and special times with Patrick.

  He insisted she try them both on to ensure they fitted correctly, which they did. Emily vividly remembered Joe from their school days. He was always meticulous with everything he did.

  They’d been great friends, and she had been in awe of how smart he had been, particularly with mathematics. She was certain that would help with his work as a tailor.

  Emily stared at herself in his full-length mirror, then twirled about. Tears came to her eyes at the vision she saw there.

  “They’re beautiful, Joe,” she said, then reached out and hugged him.

  He stepped back and stared into her face. “You deserve it, Emily. You’ve had a hard life, but I’ve heard on the grapevine Patrick Harper is changing all that.”

  She stared at him. “People are talking about me?” She was appalled. Gossip did not sit well with Emily.

  He shook his head. “Not like that – word gets around. Everyone says he’s a good man, and I hope they are right.” He tugged at the gown ensuring it fit correctly in all the right places.

  She smiled at the thought. “He is a good man. He’s helped me tremendously in more ways than you will ever know.”

  Joe frowned. “Then why aren’t you two married?”

  Now it was her turn to frown. “He hasn’t asked me.” She glanced at herself in the mirror.

  Joe shook his head at her words, then glanced at her reflection. “You look beautiful, Emily. This fabric brings out your beauty.”

  She grinned at him. “Now all I need is for Patrick to tell me so.”

  He was about to leave the room for her to change, when he turned back. “Why don’t you leave that one on? Let your man see how beautiful you really are?”

  Before she could answer he was gone. But he was right – why not leave it on and surprise Patrick when he arrived home from work?

  As she left the store, Emily planted a quick kiss on Joe’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You are a good friend.”

  He reached out and took both her hands, staring her up and down. “And you, Emily Stanton, are a beautiful woman and a great catch.” He grinned. “I just wish I had snatched you up when I had the chance.”

  She headed back home with a skip in her step.

  * * *

  Patrick headed straight for the bathroom when he arrived home.

  He was becoming Sawdust Patrick, the way things were going. He’d cut so much wood this week, he felt like he had sawdust packed into every crevice.

  He removed his shirt then covered his entire head in water and washed away the grime. He repeated the process for good measure.

  This was the time of day he enjoyed the most – when he got to spend quality time with Emily.

  When he’d changed into clean clothes, he headed for the kitchen to see the love of his life. He’d seen her at breakfast, but only briefly, before he’d had to leave for work.

  As he stepped into the kitchen he abruptly stopped. He couldn’t help but stare. He knew Emily was beautiful, but tonight she looked radiant.

  What had she done differently?

  “Hello, Patrick. Did you have a good day?” She grinned at him.

  Did that mean she was happy to see him? “I missed you today.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew it wasn’t enough. He rushed to her side and pulled her into his embrace. “You look beautiful tonight, Emily.”

  He hugged her a little tighter, then pulled back to kiss her. Emily’s eyes sparkled. It was a moment to rejoice – finally she was on the road to recovery.

  After a sweet lingering kiss, she pushed away. “I must finish preparing supper,” she said, a note of regret in her voice.

  He nodded. “I need to talk to you after supper, if you have time,” he said.

  She frowned. “Is everything alright?”

  He reached out and took both her hands in his. “Everything is more than alright. Perhaps we can go for a stroll later?”

  “I would love to.”

  He pulled the plates out of the cupboard ready for supper, as well as the mugs, then spread them across the counter. He always enjoyed being in Emily’s kitchen. Apart from the enticing aromas, it was the woman herself. He had felt drawn to her from the moment they’d met.

  “I’m about to dish up, if you’d care to tell the others?”

  He wanted supper over and done with so he could talk to Emily in private. He didn’t want the others around. What he had to say was none of their business.

  He returned to find potato pancakes on each plate, with a side of bacon and sausages. He hadn’t had that for a very long time and was looking forward to it, but not as much as their alone time.

  The men each took a plate and a mug of coffee and head
ed for the dining room. The changes he’d implemented had made a huge difference to Emily, but were insignificant to her lodgers.

  When only the two of them remained, Emily sidled up to him. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked quietly.

  He reached out and cupped her face with his hands. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

  It left him reeling. That a gentle touch such as this could leave him feeling this way, sent shock waves through his entire body.

  “You get the mugs, I’ll carry the plates.”

  She nodded and headed out to the dining room where the lodgers were waiting to say grace. They seemed to have tamed quite a bit since Patrick arrived, and he wasn’t unhappy about it.

  There had been no new lodgers, as none had left. The changes made had ensured a happier house, which mean they didn’t want to leave.

  He sat down opposite Emily and they all bowed their heads.

  They took turns saying grace, and tonight it was Patrick’s turn.

  “Dear Lord,” Patrick began. “Thank you for this delicious food before us, and the amazing lady who prepared it. Amen.”

  Amen was echoed around the table. Emily blushed.

  They all tucked in. The food was delicious as always, but Patrick couldn’t wait for the meal to be over. He wanted to get on with it, but not with everyone here.

  When she finished eating, Emily stood and carried her plate to the kitchen. Patrick followed.

  He watched as she cut up a peach pie and distributed it over the bowls already laid out on the bench. She scooped up a big helping of clotted cream for each bowl.

  Soon after the rest of the lodgers arrived in the kitchen, adding their dishes and cutlery to the sink, and snatching up a bowl and spoon.

  “The food was delicious, Emily.”

  “Loved the pancakes.”

  “Nice meal.”

  She blushed at each compliment, and Patrick was pleased the lodgers now appreciated her the way she deserved.

  He carried Emily’s dessert for her.

  “Emily and I are going for a stroll after supper,” he announced when everyone was seated.

 

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