The Lumberjack

by Kelli Ann Morgan

  It only took a few minutes before folks started piling into the kitchen.

  When Eli had placed the last fork on the table, Lottie handed him a large, cool pitcher full of milk to be put in the center.

  “They got you working in the kitchen now?” Cole asked with a smirk just as his mother stepped into the room.

  “It’s wonderful that Eli is helping out,” she said, “just like it will be wonderful when you help to clean up afterward.”

  Cole’s smile only faltered for a moment. “It’s like you can read my mind, Mama,” he said, snatching a piece of salted pork off the plate in front of Lottie, then leaning over and giving the woman a quick kiss on the cheek.

  It was easy to tell that the cook was more like family to the Redbournes than merely someone to make their meals and clean their house. There was something about her blushing smile as she swatted at Cole’s hand that endeared her to him.

  Biscuits smothered with a sausage gravy, bottled peaches with cream, salted pork, and fried potatoes quickly filled his belly. With a couple of hours still to go before he and Hannah would leave to collect the young orphan children, he needed something to occupy himself, so he headed out to the barn with Ethan and the others to help out like any other hand on the ranch.

  The hours passed quickly, and Eli found himself rushing to get cleaned up before they left for town. By the time he got back downstairs, Hannah was already waiting for him out in the hitched buckboard. She still wore the simple blue dress she’d had on this morning. He liked how the color mingled with the morning sun seeming to brighten her eyes even more. The thought of spending more time with her outweighed the drudgery he would normally consider spending time with a dressmaker or a tailor.

  They reached the church where they were to pick up Archie and Mirabelle to find the children skipping in circles around their caretaker.

  “Mr. Whittaker,” the little boy yelled as he ran up to the wagon followed closely by his sister.

  “Hi, Miss Red Barn,” Mirabelle said sweetly.

  Eli and Hannah both chuckled.

  “Good morning, children,” Hannah said as she climbed down off the seat. She held out her hands for them and turned to their caretaker. “Thank you, Miss Hampton. I hope this will give you some time to yourself.”

  “Bless you,” the woman cooed, then, with a hand on Hannah’s forearm, her demeanor turned serious. “Miss Redbourne, Mr. Whittaker, I hope you both understand that these children are special, and I need your assurance that you will keep them safe while they are in your care.”

  What an odd thing to say. Eli was touched that the woman cared so much about her charges.

  “Miss Hampton,” Hannah said, placing a hand over the woman’s, “we will not let them out of our sight.”

  The caretaker nodded, and with one last, meaningful look, started toward the mercantile.

  “I’ll head over to the livery,” Eli said, unsure of just how long it would take to get a few new shirts and such, fitted to children. “Where should I meet you when I’m done?”

  Hannah looked up at him, the smile on her face a mile wide. She bent down to the children. “Where would you like to start?”

  They both stared up at her like they had no idea what she was talking about.

  She stood up. “Mrs. Beattie’s dress-shop.” She tugged on Archie’s hand, intent on pointing him to the right place, then, instead of letting go of the boy, she simply dropped her hand and gave him verbal directions. “It’s the shop two doors down from the mercantile.”

  Eli nodded and pulled the horses around.

  Dress shop? What have I done?

  Little Archie looked up at Hannah with wide eyes. “Does a dress shop have clothes for boys?” he asked warily.

  Hannah smiled down at the boy, understanding his concern. She dropped down on her haunches, so she would be eye-level with him. “When Mr. Whittaker comes back, he’s going to take you over to Mr. Gimbert, the tailor. He makes a lot of boy’s clothes.”

  His eyes grew wider with delight. “Really?” he asked.

  “Really.” She nodded.

  When they walked into Mrs. Beattie’s shop, Mirabelle’s eyes lit up at the two dresses hanging from the wall. Hannah had to remind herself that they were not going to get anything too fancy. A nice everyday dress, or two, and a Sunday dress would be sufficient. The last thing she wanted to do was make any potential guardians uncomfortable.

  MaryBeth Hutchinson stood with her arms outstretched while the dressmaker yanked and pinned sections of an ill-fitting dress.

  “Oh, hi, Hannah,” the young woman said, glancing over her shoulder.

  “MaryBeth,” Hannah replied with a nod, “that dress is going to be lovely on you.”

  The young woman grinned. “Do you think so? It’s been so long since I’ve had a new dress, I wasn’t sure which color to choose.”

  “I think you chose well. That green really brings out your eyes.”

  “Do you think your brother will like it?” she asked with a diminutive shrug.

  MaryBeth had been living in Stone Creek with her aunt and uncle for a few years and during that time had somehow gained favor with Cole. It was plain to see that she wanted more than just her brother, but everything the Redbournes had worked hard for. It was no secret she was hoping Cole would offer her a proposal of marriage.

  Her brother certainly fancied the bouncy-curled blond, but after their conversation the other night, she doubted he would be professing his love to the likes of MaryBeth, or anyone else for that matter, in the foreseeable future.

  Thank heaven. While Hannah liked the girl well-enough, she didn’t appreciate the fact that MaryBeth would have taken any of her brothers and wasn’t particular about which of them she got. It was just that Cole was the only one to have been taken in by her pretty smile and coy demeanor.

  “I guess you’ll have to ask him, though blue is his favorite color.” She couldn’t help herself.

  The smile on MaryBeth’s face fell momentarily and she turned to Mrs. Beattie. “Maybe we could add a few blue flowers and ribbons?” she asked.

  Mrs. Beattie stared at her for a moment before responding.

  “I’m sure we could make something work, my dear. Why don’t you bring me another one of your drawings with what you have in mind, and we’ll make it work.”

  “I’ll have it over to you first thing tomorrow morning,” MaryBeth said, placing a hand on the dressmaker’s arm, then turned and nodded at Hannah before skittering into the room in the back of the shop to change.

  “Well, Hannah, I don’t believe I know your friends,” Mrs. Beattie said, her hands folded together as she turned to face them squarely. The woman’s hair sat in a loose bun at the top of her head. A pencil protruded from behind her ear, a measuring tape draped over her shoulder, and a bracelet made of cloth chock-full of pins adorned her wrist.

  “This is Mirabelle and Archibald Lowell. We’ve come in today to get Mirabelle some new dresses and undergarments.”

  “Come here, child, and let me see you.” Mrs. Beattie pointed to an elevated platform near the center of the shop.

  Mirabelle looked up at Hannah, holding even tighter to her hand.

  “It’s all right. Mrs. Beattie just wants to see how big she needs to make your new dress.”

  Slowly, the little girl slid her hand from Hannah’s and walked toward the dressmaker. Once she stood at the woman’s feet, Mrs. Beattie lifted her up and placed her on the platform.

  “Well, aren’t you just the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Mirabelle bit her bottom lip, but lifted her head, the corners of her mouth curving upward.

  “I have just the thing.” Mrs. Beattie disappeared behind a large curtain for a few minutes before returning with several bolts of cloth. She unwrapped a few layers of a buttery yellow material with small, pale orange flowers and draped a layer of cloth over the child’s shoulder. “I think this will be really lovely with your raven-colored hair.” />
  The little girl’s face scrunched up into a pucker.

  “Raven-colored?”

  Hannah laughed. “That’s a good thing, Mirabelle. Mrs. Beattie is saying it’s as pretty and shiny as a raven.”

  “What’s a raven?”

  Good heavens.

  “It’s a bird with beautiful black feathers.”

  “Oh,” Mirabelle said, her brows still knit together. “Does it look like I have a bird in my hair? We tried to brush it as good as we could this morning, but sometimes it gets snarls and it hurts to get them out. Is that why nobody wants to adopt us?” she asked, a small tear forming in her eye.

  Hannah wrapped her arms around the little girl. She knew all too well the pains of brushing through tangled hair.

  “Of course, not.” She squeezed. “The family who takes you in is going to have to be really special. I’m sure they’re out there and we’ll find them soon. Just you wait and see.”

  “You’re really special,” Archie said from the chair in front of the window.

  Hannah opened her mouth to respond, unsure of exactly what she was going to say, but the door opened and a little bell rang.

  Eli stepped over the threshold.

  “Mr. Whittaker!” Archie said, bolting from his chair. “Can we go to the tailor now? I’ve seen enough girly stuff to last me my whole life.”

  Eli chuckled and glanced over at Hannah. She held his gaze for longer than she should have as the butterflies quickly returned.

  “Wait right here,” she told Mirabelle, then walked over to Eli to give him directions to Mr. Gimbert’s place and instructions for Archie’s clothes. “Meet us over at the mercantile in an hour.” She glanced over her shoulder to Mrs. Beattie, who nodded. “Yes, one hour and we’ll get a treat.”

  Archie licked his lips, then slipped his small hand into Eli’s much larger one.

  “One hour,” Eli repeated, then tipped his hat before leaving the shop.

  Hannah blew out a long breath.

  What am I doing?

  “He looks like a nice fella,” Mrs. Beattie said with a smile.

  “He is.”

  He is. It was almost like a revelation. She’d carried around their last conversation in Oregon so long that she’d almost forgotten.

  The bell above the door rang again and Hannah looked up to see Gordon peeking his head into the shop.

  “Hannah?”

  She turned to face him and he stepped all the way into the room.

  “I thought that was you.” He leaned down and placed a light kiss on her cheek. He glanced from her to the little girl and then over at Mrs. Beattie.

  “Gordon, I’d like you to meet Mirabelle Lowell.”

  He reached out his hand to shake hers and the child giggled when she accepted.

  “It’s very nice to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Gordon.”

  “It’s Mr. Blythe,” he told her with a wink, “and the pleasure is all mine, Miss Mirabelle Lowell.” He directed his attention back to Hannah. “I need to speak with you. I was going to wait to come see you tonight, but since you are here, can we talk?”

  Hannah looked over at Mrs. Beattie, who waved her hands.

  “I’ll take care of young Miss Lowell. We have some dresses to measure for.”

  “Thank you,” she mouthed to the dressmaker as she allowed Gordon to lead her from the shop.

  They sat down on the bench beneath the overhang of the covered boardwalk in front of the candy shop. The delectably sweet smells wafted under her nose and she breathed in deeply.

  Gordon shifted on the seat to face her. He took her hands in his.

  “I’ve been offered a job by a man named Marcus Goldman to work at his financial investment firm in New York City.”

  “New York?” Hannah asked, surprised. “But, what about school?”

  “Goldman said he would hire me now and I could finish my last semester at Columbia College in the city while I work.”

  “When would you be leaving?”

  “I’ve been asked to start the first week of November.”

  “This November? Gordon, that’s just a couple of weeks away.”

  “I know. And, Hannah,” he said, raising her hands chest-level, “we don’t have the time for all the fanfare and pomp that comes with a traditional courtship. This is an incredible opportunity—almost everything I could have asked for. The only thing that’s missing, would be you,” he said, taking a moment to swallow. “So, I want you to come with me. As my wife.”

  Chapter 14

  Mr. Gimbert’s shop lacked the color of the dressmaker’s, but several dapper suits had been laid out on the cabinet and Eli admired the quality that obviously went into the man’s work.

  Archie followed the tailor’s directions to the letter, standing up tall, breathing out when told, and extending his arms. The tall, lanky man wore brown trousers with a white shirt, a measuring tape around his neck, and had spectacles that matched his graying moustache.

  Eli smiled, remembering the first time his mother had taken him to see a tailor back home—the poor man. At the time, he couldn’t have been much older than the young orphan boy was now, but he’d had the wiggles so badly that he’d lost count of the number of times he’d been poked with the man’s pins.

  This shop wasn’t much different than that he remembered. There wasn’t a lot of room to move around, so Eli decided he would stay out of the man’s way and sit while he waited. He glanced out the window behind the chairs and caught sight of Hannah and Gordon sitting on a bench on the boardwalk a few doors down from the dressmaker’s shop across the street. He knelt down on the chairs and yanked back the dark curtains that obscured any part of his view.

  “What is it?” Archie called out.

  Eli heard the boy’s question, but was too unsure of what he was looking at to respond immediately. He narrowed his eyes as Gordon took Hannah’s hands in his.

  “No!” He was surprised that the exclamation came out of his mouth instead of staying in his head.

  “Ouch,” Archie said indignantly.

  “Stay still, boy,” Mr. Gimbert instructed.

  “Please, sir,” Archie said very politely, “may I go to the window? Something’s terribly wrong. I just know it.”

  Mr. Gimbert chuckled and before Eli could turn around, the young boy and the older gentleman both joined him at the window.

  “What are we looking at?” the tailor asked, but answered his own question a moment later. “Ah, you must be sweet on Miss Redbourne,” he said, standing up straight. “You might want to turn your affections elsewhere, young man.”

  Eli dragged his eyes away from the couple to look at the man with quarreling brows.

  “That there is Gordon Blythe,” he said as if that answered everything.

  “So?”

  “So, they’ve been courting for years, ever since she got her heart broken by some fella up in Oregon country.” He pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. “Word has it, she’s just been waiting on him to finish school before they get hitched.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Archie protested.

  “And, why is that?” the tailor asked, slipping his spectacles back over his nose.

  “Because Miss Redbourne loves Mr. Whittaker here. She’s gonna marry him. I just know it.”

  “You,” Mr. Gimbert said, ruffling Archie’s hair, “just know a lot of things, don’t you?”

  Eli breathed a defeated laugh as he turned in the chair and slid down until he was completely seated.

  “Whittaker? You aren’t—”

  “Yep,” Eli said with a nod. “From Oregon.” He nodded again.

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Yep.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Whittaker,” Archie placed a hand on Eli’s shoulder in an obvious effort to console him, “it’s not what it looks like. Probably.”

  Truthfully, he’d allowed himself a moment’s indulgence in believing he might be able t
o light an old flame, but it was too late. He’d waited too long, though admittedly, he hadn’t known what it was he’d been missing until he saw her again.

  It was time to go home.

  “It’s all right, Archie. Mr. Blythe seems like a right fine gentleman.”

  “That may be so,” he said wisely, “but he’s not you.”

  “No, he’s not.” Eli jutted his chin toward the tailor. “I believe we still have some measurements to take.”

  Archie patted him on the arm, then jumped back up onto the stand where Mr. Gimbert had been measuring him.

  “And, Archie,” Eli said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “this is our little secret, all right?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  When the tailor had finished all of the boy’s measurements, and he’d noted down the order, Eli pulled out his pocket watch.

  “Look at that. If we hurry, we may just beat them to the mercantile.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gimbert,” Eli said, shaking the man’s hand. Then, he glanced down at Archie with raised brows.

  The boy wrapped his arms around the surprised man. “Thank you, Mr. Gimbert.” He pulled back to look up into the tailor’s face. “I’m going to have clothes that are just for me and have never belonged to anyone else before.” He stepped back. “Am I rich?”

  “You are where it matters, Archie,” Mr. Gimbert told him. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small lollipop and handed it to the boy.

  “Thank you, sir!”

  How on earth had this kid and his sister not been adopted yet?

  The tailor smiled at the boy, then turned to Eli.

  “Please tell Miss Redbourne that the order will be ready in two weeks.” He headed toward the counter at the back of the shop, then stopped and turned back. “Make that ten days, just for her.”

  Was everyone in this town taken with Hannah?

  “I’m sure she will be pleased. Thank you.”

  “Two weeks?” Archie whispered incredulously. “Does that mean we’re not moving to the next town tomorrow like Miss Hampton said?”