by Lynn Donovan
“That’s where we are headed, Millie. Sorry. The storm’s so bad, we blew in through the front door.”
Clarence was only welcome in her back storage room, while Ellen or her Grandpa shopped. Under normal circumstances, Ellen brought him in through the back door. Millie had too much to do between the mercantile and her nine children to worry about a pig wandering her store. With the family expanding, Millie was even less interested in accommodating Ellen’s quirky pets. Today was an entirely different ordeal, with the storm, and Mr. Phinney, and his… orphaned shrew.
Millie didn’t raise her gaze to Ellen but spoke to her just the same. “I don’t know what was important enough to bring you out in this weather, but we’ve set up a little makeshift diner in the front storage room. Barrels and stools are all set up. Go help yourself to some nice warm soup. The kids are there, just ask them for bowls and I’ve got several loaves of bread too, get yourself some… and jam.”
“Millie…” Ellen tried to get a word in edgeways. “Millie, this is Mr. Niles Phinney. He came in on the train.”
Clarence hauled Ellen through the front storage room and into the back with an impatient oink, then pushed through to the small pantry. She heard Millie exclaim, “The train?”
Ellen smiled. Wait ’til she realizes he has a mouse under his shirt. Just about that time, the African shrew scampered under the pantry door and collided against Clarence’s chest. He swirled in a circle, and settled between her pig’s front legs. Clarence oinked and moved his head twice, resting his chin across the shrew’s back. They looked so cute together, Ellen couldn’t take her eyes off them. She sighed with pleasure. The shrew was larger than she realized. About the size of a squirrel. That was a lot of mouse to carry under one’s clothing, she mused.
Millie shrieked from the store front, “What was that?”
Ellen giggled. She could hear Mr. Phinney explain. “That, my good woman, was an African elephant shrew.”
“An… Afri— what?”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. I’ll take care of this.”
Mr. Phinney pushed the pantry door open. His eyes spotted Clarence and the shrew. Ellen laughed. “Looks like Clarence has made a friend.”
“You think they’ll be all right back here? That soup smells too good to pass up.”
Ellen chuckled. “Clarence stays here often. He was the litter runt last winter, so Millie took him figuring he’d make a nice pork entrée for the diner. He escaped during the earthquakes last spring and we found him under our covered porch. Now that he knows he’s not on the menu, he enjoys lounging back here while I run errands in town. I guess this storm scared him and he ran for the second secure place he knew— here. And it looks to me like your little friend has made himself at home with Clarence.” She gestured for Niles to step out of the pantry. “I’ve heard of orphaned animals taking up with animals of another species. I suppose that’s what your friend has done. They do have similar snouts, perhaps your African mouse thinks the pig is his papa.”
Niles tilted his head back. “You think all that is going on in their heads?”
They walked to the front storage room set up for a meal and sat at a barrel. Millie’s teenaged boy, Ryder, brought them two bowls and two wooden spoons. Millie rushed to them, her eyes darting to the storage area and back to them. She spoke in a hushed tone. “That… mouse won’t get into any of my… supplies back there, will it?”
Niles smiled. “I suppose if you want to know what my mouse is thinking, you should ask Miss Myers.” A whimsical twinkle flashed in his eyes as he glanced at Ellen, then returned to the mercantile owner. Recognizing her lack of humor in the situation, he cleared his throat. “I can’t guarantee it, but as of right now, he’s fast asleep with the pig. If he does… get into your supplies, I’ll reimburse you for any damages.”
Ellen giggled and shrugged to let Millie know she wasn’t concerned that the mouse would cause any damage.
Millie’s mouth went lax. She lowered her voice even more, hissing a whisper. “I cannot have a- a mouse in my food pantry!”
“We’ve got a mouse in the food pantry?” Ryder stated with a hint of excitement.
“Well, actually,” Niles grinned at Ellen. “It’s an African elephant shrew and I’d be happy to show him to you after Miss Myers and I finish eating.”
“Would you, really?” Ryder’s smile widened. “I’d like to see that.”
”I need to discuss with your mother a large order before we leave, too.” His gaze turned to Mrs. Cutler. “Assuming you have some bags of feed and maybe some bales of hay?”
She nodded. “We’ve got some in the back. How many do you need, I’ll have Ryder and Nathan start stacking it.”
“Very good. I know it’s colder than a March hare, Mrs. Cutler, but do you have a man or two who can deliver it to the depot?”
Millie sighed, exhaustion apparent on her face. “We’ll figure something out for you, Mr. Phinney.” Her eyes lifted to her older son. He nodded and left the room. Millie ladled soup into their bowls, while five-year-old Opal brought them four slices of bread, a crock of butter, and a jar of jam. Millie returned to their makeshift table with teacups and a teapot. She inhaled and planted a pleasant smile on her face. “Tea?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Pangs of guilt coursed through Niles’s chest. He had intended to feed the exotics before himself, but Clarence-the-pig had changed all that. He turned to Ellen. Her expectant but pleasant eyes had remained on him. Anxiety drained from his tense muscles. She had a calming effect he had never experienced with another person. It was not unlike the calming effect she seemed to have on the pig. He needed to get to know this amazing woman better. But with this storm, she needed to get herself and the pig back home.
The only solution he could think of was to suggest she let him buy her dinner. That way, they could all be indoors where it was warm, and eating had been on his agenda anyway. He drew in a lungful of air and blew it out slowly. Then the pig dragged Ellen into the mercantile and Mrs. Cutler offered a makeshift dining experience.
The exotics could wait a half hour more.
“Have you lived in Silverpines long?” He wanted to know everything about this girl.
“My family came here when I was twelve. Grandpa raised me after momma and papa died.” Sadness filled her entire face. Niles wanted to reach across the barrel to embrace that face with his hands, and tell her not to be so sad.
He scooped a spoonful of soup into his mouth instead.
“Last spring there was a set of earthquakes, and a landslide that wiped out so many people. A lot of animals were injured too. While the town scrambled to help the injured, I gathered the wounded animals and built cages or pens out of anything I could find for whatever they needed.
“They weren’t fit to return to their owners, most had permanent injuries that would keep them from being accepted among their own. For example, a goat we found had a crushed foreleg. It had to be amputated. A Nanny goat with three legs would never be bred again, so I kept her. A squirrel was found under trees that toppled in the earthquake. We thought he was crushed to death, but he was alive, barely. He completely lost his tail. So he lives with me now.” A faraway look glazed over her eyes.
“I take them in and keep them safe. When the weather is nice, I invite the local children into the yard and make up stories about the heroic animals, like Nanny, the warrior princess goat, or Ferdinand the Selfless Squirrel.” A flush filled her face. “The children seem to enjoy my stories. Our grammar school teacher uses my menagerie visit as a field day.”
Her embarrassment had a surprising effect on Niles. He wanted to touch her face, sooth the heat in her cheek with the back of his hand. He smiled. “A petting zoo.”
She cleared her throat. “A… what?”
“You’ve essentially created a petting zoo, where children can come be among the animals and interact with them. It’s a great idea. I’ve considered it myself, with the more docile breeds I have with me. But I love th
e creative twist you’ve added. Tell me one of your stories?”
“Oh.” Miss Myers’s cheeks flooded with embarrassment. “No. It’s silly, really—”
“Y’all warmin’ up?” Millie broke the magic moment that seemed to hover between them. Ellen smiled graciously at the mercantile owner.
“Thank you, yes, Millie. It tastes delicious and it’s warming to our bellies.” She glanced nervously at Niles. He nodded approval for her answering for them both.
A bell jingled, indicating someone had entered the mercantile. Mille hurried to the front of her store. They could hear her talking to a trapper who had come down from the mountain. She fussed over him being frozen nearly to death, just as she had with Niles and Miss Myers. Niles smiled at his dinner guest. “Sounds like Mrs. Cutler is a caring soul.”
“You have no idea.” Miss Myers mused.
They ate quickly, asking questions and telling stories about their lives. Niles told tales of Africa and how he’d gathered animals that for one reason or another couldn’t survive on their own in the wild. When his brother wrote begging him to come home, and with the idea that a new century approached with all sorts of possibilities, he decided to set out on a new adventure. He couldn’t release his menagerie of exotic animals, and there was no one like-minded to take over, so he pooled his resources and brought them with him. He and his twin brother had inherited their father’s land in Seattle that had been turned into an English garden, complete with a section for wildlife. It only seemed right to follow through with his late father’s dream and bring exotic animals that would make for a profitable zoo.
An older daughter of the owners refilled their teapot and offered them more soup. “Thank you, Miss.” Niles smiled at the child. “What’s your name?”
She frowned. Her eyes darted to Miss Myers.
“Her name’s Fern. She’ll be eleven this year.” Miss Myers answered for her with the pride of a family member, then leaned close to Niles. “She’s shy, especially with strangers.” Then she spoke louder for Miss Fern to hear. “But she’s a big help to her mother, aren’t you?”
Fern grimaced a smile and rushed off to the front room.
Ryder and Nathan walked in from the back, covered in tan dust. “We’ve stacked the feed bags and hay bales in a wagon. We’ve got a draft horse that can make it over to the depot, Mr. Phinney. I wrapped him in a warming blanket.”
Niles nodded. “Thank you. Is the horse inside a barn or waiting in the storm?”
“Oh, no. He’s still in the barn. I wouldn’t take him out in this until you’re ready to leave.”
“Good. I’ll be ready to go as soon as I see Miss Myers home.” Ryder nodded and went back into the storage area.
Niles didn’t want his time with Miss Myers to end. Since the draft animal was safe in a barn, he shared his perilous story about the ocean voyage and how he’d refused to let the vast snowstorm stop him from bringing these animals to his brother.
“Goodness me.” Ellen gasped. “Is that how you injured your leg?”
Niles stared at her with uncertainty. Was the leg an issue for her? Once it completely healed, he’d no longer need the cane. His heart sank. “It’s a temporary inconvenience. Soon, I’ll set this cane aside for good. Don’t worry.”
“I’m only worried that you might be in pain.” Ellen’s eyes moistened with concern. She cleared her throat. “I can see why you’re so determined. You and your animals have been through a lot. I’m sorry you ended up stuck here in Silverpines.”
“Oh, we’re not stuck.”
Her smile melted into a thoughtful frown. “No?”
“Miss Myers. We stopped here to refuel. I needed to buy more feed and get the animals fed. The hired workers discovered your Chinatown, south of the city, and will fill their bellies too. I- uh, I intended to take care of the animals first and then get a meal for myself, but Clarence altered the order in which I completed those tasks.”
“Oh. Let me apologize again…” Ellen wadded the linen napkin nervously between her fingers.
“No. Miss Myers.” Niles touched her hand. A bolt of energy passed between them. A faint angelic choir somewhere beyond the storm held a perfectly harmonized note, but that couldn’t be right. “I, um, I— no please don’t apologize. Meeting you has been…” He lifted his chin. “An unexpected but very welcome surprise.”
Ryder approached Niles. “Mr. Phinney. There’s a Chinaman at the back door. He says the crew wishes to stay the night. Some are in need of the doctor in Chinatown.”
“In need of the doctor?” Niles turned to Miss Myer. Her expression was filled with concern. He turned back to the boy. “Yes, of course. Um. Ryder, ask him if he’d like to come in for a bowl of soup. I’ll pay.”
Ryder nodded and dashed out of the storage room turned diner. Niles met Miss Myers’ gaze. “You suppose they suffered frostbite from clearing the tracks?”
She tilted her head and shrugged one shoulder. “I reckon it’s a possibility.”
Ryder returned. “Mr. Phinney, he said no thank you on the soup, the village has been very generous and if you wish to continue to Seattle, there are able bodied men willing to continue. They are not of his clan and will have to be paid separate.”
Niles considered Ryder. “No. Tell him we shall rest for the night here in… Silverpines. I’ll come find him at the village tomorrow morning.”
Ryder nodded. “So you want me to put Clyde back in his stall, then?”
“Oh.” Niles suddenly remembered he had several animals to feed. “No. I still need to feed the animals… and I guess find shelter for them.” He turned back to Miss Myers. “You know of any large open storage buildings I could modify for my exotics?”
Miss Myers cut her eyes to her right. Thinking. A smile curled on her intriguing lips. “I might know just the place.”
#
Mr. Phinney sat properly and ate with the etiquette of a gentleman at a fine restaurant, even though he ate soup in a storage room of the mercantile. Millie Cutler had been correct to fix a huge pot of soup for people who would come to the mercantile for shelter and supplies despite the storm. Ellen had no idea when she rose that morning, she’d be one of the refugees from this blizzard. But here she was, having chased after her pig, then running into the most intriguing man she’d ever considered meeting. Tall and thin, but strong and handsome, Niles Phinney had come out of nowhere, tripped over Clarence, and then bought her dinner. He probably didn’t realize it, but he’d stolen her heart too.
The more Ellen experienced being with this Mr. Niles Phinney, the more she wished the storm would come down even harder, preventing him from ever leaving Silverpines. She knew that was ridiculous, but it was her wish. She ate as slowly as possible. It was the only thing she could control. Making this lunch with him last as long as possible. Soon, he would leave to off-load his exotics into the warehouse next to the depot. It had been her idea. She knew the warehouse would be empty until spring. There was no chance he’d stay once the storm cleared, let alone until spring.
Mr. Phinney stood. Ellen wiped her mouth and gathered their soup bowls and spoons. She wiped the barrel head with her linen napkin and handed it all over to Fern. Millie’s children were very good at helping in the mercantile. Even today. Especially today. The two oldest had loaded the wagon for Mr. Phinney, and Clay Cutler, her new husband, would drive the draft horse to the depot. Ellen wasn’t positive what kind of animals Mr. Phinney had on that train, but she knew some of them were dangerous. How would he take them from the train to the warehouse?
Did he have a tranquilizer gun?
Ellen considered how this could be done safely during the storm and not get anyone hurt… especially Mr. Phinney, or any of the exotics. Her mind rolled thoughts around in her head, remembering the National Geographic Magazine she’d seen where wild animals had been caught in cages and transported to big game reserves. Did Mr. Phinney have such a cage? How much would an exotic predator weigh? Could Clay and Ryder and Mr. Phinney li
ft the cage?
“Miss Myers?” Mr. Phinney craned his neck to get his eyes level with hers. She jerked from her thoughts. “Oh. I’m sorry. What?”
He chuckled. “May I walk you and Clarence home?”
She paused. Home? What about transferring the animals? “I-I thought we— I mean you were going to transfer the animals?”
“I will. After I see that you are home, safe and sound.”
“But…” Was she being too presumptuous? “I want to help.”
He looked into her eyes for a long time. It was as if all the clocks in the world stopped ticking. She swam in the rich chocolate that was his eyes. She could stay here, in this moment, for the rest of her life.
“Ellen?” Millie broke the spell. Ellen blinked and turned to the shopkeeper. “Huh.”
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but to overhear. If you’re going to help Mr. Phinney, I insist you change into these trapper’s britches, an earflap hat, and boots. I’ve got a wool scarf and these fur lined gloves. I don’t want you catching your death in this snow.” Millie handed her a neatly folded stack of items she’d named.
Ellen looked at the clothes, then up at Mr. Phinney. “Yes.” She turned back to Millie. “I’ll change in your fitting room.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Mr. Phinney looked amused and concerned at the same time.
“Yes, I really do. Besides, Clarence and Sammy are sound asleep.”
“Sammy?”
“Sure. Your African shrew. I thought it was time he had a name. Sammy suits him, don’t you think?”
Mr. Phinney turned a confused gaze to Millie.
The shop owner shrugged. “She always names ‘em.”
He gestured acceptance. “Sammy it is.”
Ellen took the warmer clothing and slid into Millie’s fitting room. Soon she emerged, looking like a trapper, except for the pretty wool scarf. Mr. Phinney took a double look when she walked out.
“What?” She felt heat fill her face.
