Cowboy Creek Christmas

by Cheryl St. John

  Under those circumstances, she should eat in the kitchen, but she’d learned from experience that Mrs. Calloway wouldn’t tolerate it. Even when Amanda explained that she’d always eaten in the kitchen at her foster family’s house, the boardinghouse proprietress shooed her from the room.

  Mrs. Calloway set the eggs in front of the ladies and disappeared.

  Amanda had barely taken her seat, prayed over the meal with Pearl and Fiona, and dished up one poached egg and the smallest slice of ham when a forceful knock sounded on the front door. Everyone stopped eating and looked up.

  “Who could that be at this hour?” Pearl mused.

  The women looked to the men, who both shook their heads.

  “Perhaps a visitor came in on the mail boat,” Amanda suggested. If only it could be her long-lost brother, but the lumberjack who fit his description had reportedly left the area for work further north.

  “More likely it’s your fiancé,” Fiona said to Pearl.

  Amanda noticed a burst of color infuse her friend’s cheeks and a sparkle light her eyes. She dearly hoped Fiona was right, but fear niggled at the back of her mind. What if Garrett had come to propose to Fiona? What if it was an unwelcome caller like Hugh Bellchamp? Surely he would not follow her here from New York. She had told no one where she was going, just that she had left to marry someone on the “frontier.”

  She set down her fork, unable to eat.

  “It wouldn’t be Roland,” Pearl noted. “He would be busy with the mail and any merchandise for the store that came in on the mail boat.”

  A knock sounded again.

  “I don’t think Mrs. Calloway heard it.” Pearl began to rise.

  Amanda set aside her napkin. “I’ll get it.”

  “Sit down, girls.” Mrs. Calloway bustled past. “I’m on my way.”

  That left the five of them in silence. The men shoveled food into their mouths. The ladies ate quietly, listening for a clue as to who had paid a call. Amanda picked at the food, unable to stomach one bite.

  The dining room was situated fairly close to the front door. Given the force of the knock, Amanda expected to hear the caller’s voice. For the longest time, she heard nothing. She looked to Pearl, who shook her head. Even Fiona hadn’t heard a thing, and her hearing was more attuned to the softest nuances than theirs. For long minutes, only the clink of forks on china serenaded them. Then Mrs. Calloway’s booming voice broke the quiet.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” The man’s irritated voice was unmistakable. Garrett.

  Amanda stared at the poached egg, its yolk spilling onto the plate. Who had he come to see? Her or Fiona? Or was he here about something that had happened at the mill? She looked to the men, who didn’t appear to care that their supervisor was at the door.

  “Well, then, take a seat in the parlor,” Mrs. Calloway said. “I’ll ask her to join you.”

  Her?

  Amanda’s nerves tensed as the ladies looked at each other. Amanda held her breath, hoping against hope. Let it be for me. Please, let Garrett be here for me.

  Mrs. Calloway’s footsteps drew near. A second later she poked her head into the dining room. “Miss Fiona, you have a caller.”

  Amanda’s hand trembled so much that she had to set down her fork. Her ears began to ring. She drew another deep breath and pressed a cool hand to her throat. Pearl shook her head, as if to say it couldn’t possibly be what she feared, but Fiona had just said that Garrett was ready to propose.

  Fiona smiled triumphantly. “Tell Garrett that I will join him in a moment.”

  Dread wove around Amanda’s heart. She raised the teacup to her lips, but the tea tasted like wash water. With a trembling hand, she set the cup down.

  Fiona checked her hair to make sure it was in place, while Mrs. Calloway headed back in the direction of the parlor.

  Amanda choked out, “You’re not going to meet him at once?”

  “A gentleman ought not call at this hour. He can wait a moment or two.” Fiona inclined her head toward Amanda. “It’s best to let them know that you are in control.”

  Amanda was far from in control. At any moment she might faint dead away.

  At last Fiona dabbed at her mouth with the napkin. The moment she made a move to get out of her chair, the man seated closest to her hopped up to help her from the table. Amanda’s heart sank even further. Fiona had a way of attracting every man’s attention, while she only attracted the wrong sort.

  Fiona swept from the room, and the men followed, a cinnamon roll in each hand. That left Amanda alone with Pearl.

  “It’s over then,” Amanda whispered. “He’s chosen her.”

  Pearl slipped a piece of paper from between the covers of her record book and slid it across the table. “You have one advantage that she will never have.”

  In a glance Amanda could tell that it was one of the student papers that Pearl had collected yesterday. The children were to write about what they most wanted for Christmas. Pearl had supplied her own stationery for the assignment, so each paper looked more like a letter. The signature on this one made Amanda catch her breath. Sadie. Garrett’s daughter.

  The words drove a knife through her heart.

  Can Jesus bring a nu mama? Mis Mana pleez.

  This time she could not stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. That poor little girl had lost her mother in a tragic accident nearly two years ago. That she wanted a new mama was understandable. That she wanted Amanda made her heart ache. Amanda wanted that, too. How she wanted to be Sadie and Isaac’s mother, but wishing didn’t make things true.

  “It’s too late.” Amanda pushed the assignment back across the table to Pearl.

  Pearl placed it inside the record book again. “I showed it to Roland last night. He said he would tell his brother after the children fell asleep.”

  “He did?” Hope blossomed. Could Garrett have called on Fiona this morning to break off their attachment? “Do you think it’s possible that—”

  “Hire me?” Fiona’s screech carried into the dining room and cut off Amanda’s thought. “I am not hired help.”

  Footsteps raced down the hallway and stomped up the staircase. A door slammed.

  Pearl’s eyebrows lifted even as a grin teased her lips. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

  Interesting was not the word Amanda would have used. Shocking. Startling. Completely unexpected. Hire Fiona? What on earth for?

  Amanda looked to Pearl for answers. “Why would they need a woman at the sawmill?” Not to mention that Fiona would never ever work in a sawmill.

  Pearl pressed a napkin to her face, clearly trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.

  “What is it? What do you know that I don’t?”

  Pearl shook her head, but she didn’t pull the napkin from her face. A giggle sneaked out.

  Amanda heard the front door open, and she instinctively rose. Garrett had come here this morning needing help, and Fiona had outright refused. He must be devastated. Amanda glided to the hallway.

  Garrett stared back at her, his gaze stormy. He whipped the cap off his head and crushed it in one hand. With his hair sticking up at a boyish angle and his expression anguished, he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  She tried to take it all in. Garrett wanted to hire Fiona? Not marry her? What had changed? Whatever it was, Amanda felt the tension slip from her shoulders. He looked so uncomfortable standing there, like a boy whose dreams had been crushed. Her heart went out to him, and she took a step in his direction.

  He backed up.

  She tried to speak, but only a croak came out.

  “Miss Porter.” He shoved the cap on his head, flung open the door and left, slamming the door behind him.

  * * *

  G
arrett stood on the boardinghouse porch and drew in a deep breath of the icy December air. Stockton wanted an answer by nine o’clock, when they were to meet in the hotel dining room. The night before, the mill owner had asked Garrett to head up the building of a new ship, a schooner, that would bear Stockton’s name. Instead of slicing logs for other men to use, Garrett would build a sailing ship. The chance to create sparked something inside him. It didn’t hurt that the new position also came with a substantial increase in wages.

  It also meant much longer hours.

  With Roland marrying Pearl the day after Christmas, Garrett and the children had to move out of the quarters they’d shared with Roland since Eva’s death a year ago April. His brother and new wife needed a place of their own, and since the lodgings were located above the mercantile that Roland managed, it made sense for Garrett to move.

  In the wee hours of the night, he’d come to a decision. He would ask Stockton for the empty house on Cherry Street as part of his compensation as chief shipwright. It was the right thing to do. It also meant he needed a housekeeper to take care of the place and watch over the children when they weren’t in school. Together, he and Roland had managed. Barely. Though Sadie helped as best she could, she had just turned seven. He didn’t want her near a hot stove. He couldn’t ask Roland’s new wife to take over. Pearl had enough to do already, teaching school and setting up housekeeping. No, he needed to hire someone.

  Not marry. Despite Sadie’s school paper. Roland had shoved that tidbit at him last night, no doubt thinking it would change his mind. It didn’t. His brother didn’t understand that a bad wife was worse than no wife at all. Sadie just missed her mama. In time, those feelings would wane. Moreover, with Pearl joining the family, Sadie would have someone to turn to with questions.

  Hiring help, on the other hand, didn’t carry the same risk. A bad housekeeper could be fired. A good one would ease the transition to a new house. He’d considered every married woman in town, but that numbered only three: Mrs. Calloway, Mrs. VanderLeuven and Mrs. Elder. None of them would do. Mrs. Calloway had her hands full running the boardinghouse. Mrs. VanderLeuven ran the hotel, and Mrs. Elder was ailing and abed most of the time.

  That brought him to the three ladies hoping to gain his hand: Amanda, Fiona and Louise Smythe. The latter already worked for Mrs. Elder, narrowing the field to two. After careful consideration, he’d selected the best baker, but Fiona had jumped away from his offer like a dull saw hitting a hard knot.

  He tugged off his cap and raked a hand through his hair. What was he going to do?

  The answer was both obvious and gut-wrenching.

  He looked to the pale blue sky. Lord, are You forcing me into this?

  He wasn’t ready to spend any time with a woman who reminded him too much of his late wife. It sure didn’t help that the children adored her, in spite of the fact that she’d lost track of Sadie in the fire last month that burned down the schoolhouse. Amanda’s inattention had nearly caused his daughter’s death. No, he was not ready to face Amanda Porter, but he didn’t have much choice. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and grasped the knob.

  Lord, help me.

  He would need it.

  * * *

  Amanda didn’t need any more proof that Garrett Decker felt nothing for her. At the mere sight of her, he ran.

  She touched a hand to her hair. It seemed perfectly in place. She moved closer to the door, where a small mirror hung on the wall. No stray curl stuck out at an odd angle. No crumbs or irksome blemishes dotted her face. Her dress was the same modest plum gown he’d seen countless times. It had been recently laundered and pressed. In every respect she looked the same as always.

  Yet he found her presence distasteful ever since the schoolhouse fire. Pearl assured her time and again that she’d explained to Garrett what had happened that day, how Amanda had struggled to keep the children together. They’d been so frightened when she hurried them out of the schoolhouse and marched them up the hill away from the blaze. She’d been so busy with the little ones entrusted to her care that she hadn’t noticed Sadie was missing. How had she missed that?

  She swayed and put a hand against the wall to steady herself.

  On that terrible day, she had nearly lost her dearest friend and the little girl she loved. From that moment forward, Garrett had stopped talking to her. He no longer asked her to watch the children. Fiona claimed that role.

  Amanda glanced toward the staircase. What had happened between Garrett and Fiona? Instead of the proposal she had expected, Fiona had loudly refused to be hired. Why would Garrett need to hire a woman? Not for the sawmill. Pearl’s laughter had made that clear. Maybe Roland needed help at the store and had sent Garrett on the errand. Then why not offer the position to Amanda? Pearl knew how badly she needed work. Moreover, she had worked at the store once last summer. Fiona had not. Did Garrett mistrust her so much that he wouldn’t even recommend her for a job at the mercantile?

  Amanda nibbled her lip.

  Pearl joined her. “What did Garrett say?”

  “Nothing. He left.”

  “That’s curious.”

  “Does Roland need help at the store?”

  “Not that I know of. Why would you ask?”

  “Because Fiona refused whatever job Garrett offered her. You heard her.”

  The front door burst open. Amanda leaped back at the cold rush of air. Garrett paused in the doorway, looking alternately at her and Pearl.

  “Come in or leave,” Pearl scolded, “but don’t stand there with the door open. Mrs. Calloway will wring your neck for letting out the warmth.”

  Garrett stepped inside, closed the door and removed his cap. His ruggedly handsome face glowed red, though Amanda couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the cold.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Pearl.” He turned the cap around and around in his hands.

  Amanda stepped back, ready to bolt for her room, but Pearl caught her arm and would not let her retreat.

  “Did you wish to speak with someone?” Pearl asked. “Fiona, perhaps?”

  He shook his head, gaze averted, and cleared his throat. “I wondered...” Again he cleared his throat.

  “What did you wonder?” Pearl prompted.

  He peeked at Amanda before lowering his gaze again. “Might I speak with Miss Porter?” He crushed the cap in his hands.

  “Of course. Amanda would be glad to speak with you. Why don’t you two go into the parlor?” Pearl pushed her toward the parlor door.

  Amanda’s heart pounded. Garrett wanted to speak to her? And he was having difficulty speaking? Why? He shouldn’t be nervous about offering her employment. Unless his return had nothing to do with that. Maybe he was going to tell Amanda never to see his children again. Her throat constricted.

  She looked back at Pearl, who tipped her head, encouraging her to go into the parlor. Amanda couldn’t seem to move.

  She finally found her voice, squeaky though it was. “I’m sure it’s all right with Garrett if you join us.”

  Pearl waved off that idea. “I have to get to school.”

  “Me, too,” Amanda squeaked. “The little ones will need help with their coats and boots. Then I’m supposed to read to them.”

  The school operated out of the building that served as a church on Sundays, until a new schoolhouse could be built.

  “I’ll be fine until you arrive.” Pearl turned to Garrett, who was still just inside the front door. “I wondered if you might build us something for Christmas.”

  He hesitated, clearly wary. “What?”

  “We can talk after you get done with work, or you can ask your brother. Roland knows exactly what I have in mind.”

  “I, uh, I suppose I could, as long as it’s not too difficult. It’s only three weeks until Christmas Eve.”

 
Pearl’s mischievous smile meant she had something up her sleeve. “Oh, it’s nothing too terribly fancy. Besides, you’ll have help, and I know just the person.” She then glided off.

  Amanda didn’t want to be alone with Garrett in the parlor. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted to be alone with him, but only if he was able to look at her and speak with her. Since he’d gone silent again, that didn’t appear likely. Nevertheless, the parlor was more private than the front hall. She entered and sat down in her favorite chair, a lovely stuffed one with dainty legs and a flowered tapestry seat. Judging from the toppled pillow, Fiona had chosen the sofa. Amanda would not make that mistake.

  Garrett followed her in but didn’t sit. He stood across the room, staring out the window. Amanda waited for what seemed like ten minutes, but he said nothing. At last she could stand it no longer.

  “I wonder what that was about,” she mused. “Pearl didn’t say anything to me about building something for Christmas.”

  “She didn’t?” He turned toward her, brow furrowed.

  In spite of his burly build and ruddy cheeks, Garrett had an endearing boyish quality that tugged at her heart. The poor man had suffered terribly, losing his wife in a tragic accident, yet he endured, his faith unshakable. That more than anything terrified Amanda. Garrett Decker was a man of God. Could he see the shame hidden deep inside her?

  She forced a smile. “She didn’t. I have no idea what she wants you to build.”

  He scowled and turned back to the window.

  Amanda waited for him to say something. The silence was beginning to unnerve her. After ignoring her the last few weeks, he certainly wasn’t going to ask for her hand. If only he realized how much his children needed a mother, but apparently even Sadie’s letter hadn’t changed his mind. If he offered Amanda a marriage of convenience, she would accept, but that appeared unlikely.

  He sat in the chair opposite her on the other side of the room and continued to twirl his cap between his hands. Even now he said nothing. Her head spun with possibilities. As seconds dragged into minutes, she could no longer bear the suspense.