The reverend took a biscuit and passed the basket on. “Service will be held in the schoolhouse. It will be a little cramped, and I’m afraid people might use that as an excuse to stay home.”
David, the Bollen’s second son, who was a year younger than Willum said, “Do they know what happened? How the fire started?”
Willum buttered his biscuit. “No one is quite sure.”
After supper, the women cleared the table and washed the dishes. Willum sat at the table with the reverend and his three sons, Isaac, David, and Matthew. The paper plans rolled out before them. As they hashed over the details, Willum made notations on the side of the brown paper. He would draw up more accurate plans and bring them back for the reverend’s approval.
Natalie stayed in the kitchen while Papa and the men talked about the new church building. She heard the paper crinkle as it was rolled up, then some hearty good evenings.
Who was leaving? Wasn’t Mr. Tate going to at least bid her good night? She’d hoped he’d tell her that he’d talked to Papa, and they were now courting.
Isaac called into the kitchen, “Martha, time to go.”
Natalie’s sister-in-law pushed her cumbersome body out of the chair. “I hope this child decides to arrive soon. I want to hold him in my arms. After losing the first one so early, and the second being stillborn, I want to know this one is healthy.”
“Him?” Abigail said.
“Isaac really wants a boy.” She waddled out of the kitchen.
Natalie followed her to say good evening to Mr. Tate. But he was gone.
Had he asked Papa to court her?
“David, would you walk Miss Leonard home?”
David looked from Papa to Abigail standing in the kitchen doorway, then back to Papa. He stood. “Of course.” David did not look like he wanted to, but it was the family’s obligation to see that Abigail arrived home safely. David opened the front door. “Miss Leonard.”
Abigail thanked Natalie’s mother for supper. She seemed genuine. Almost a different person.
“Papa, where’s Mr. Tate?”
Papa looked at her with his sympathetic blue eyes. “He has much work to do.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
Matthew, her brother who was only ten months older than her, wrapped his arm around her neck and rubbed his knuckles in her hair. “Why would he talk about you?”
Natalie wiggled. “Let me go. You’re messing up my hair.”
“Matthew! Let your sister go.”
Matthew released her.
Natalie stood up straight and smoothed her hair. “I’m not nine anymore.”
“Your sister is a young lady, and you must treat her as one.”
“But Papa—”
“Even at home.”
Matthew hung his head like a scolded puppy.
“Now go fill the wood bin in the kitchen for your mama.”
Matthew crossed the room, and once behind Papa, he turned and made a face at Natalie. She desperately wanted to make a face back, but Papa was turned in her direction. He’d called her a lady, so she supposed she should act like one, even at home.
Then she had a horrifying thought. What if Mr. Tate was so comfortable with their family that he thought of her as his sister?
“Papa?”
Papa looked up from stirring the fire. “Yes, child.”
How should she say this? She couldn’t very well come right out and ask if Mr. Tate had discussed courting her. Papa would send her to her room for being so forward. “Papa, since I’m eighteen and you told Matthew that I was a young lady, I thought it would be a good time to ask if … if any young men have asked to court me.”
Papa stood and towered over her, silent. He didn’t look upset.
His blue eyes had a bemused twinkle in them.
“Well?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly asked a question. Yours was more of a statement.”
“Papa.”
Papa smiled then and laughed. “Several young men have made such a request. Don’t worry, the young men in Tumwater have taken notice of you. A little more than I would like, I’m afraid.”
“Who, Papa?” Mr. Tate?
The twinkle left Papa’s eyes. “Don’t you worry about that just now. Run along and finish helping your mama in the kitchen.”
She turned and left. She knew when Papa had finished a conversation. No amount of begging would keep him talking. And he’d probably tell her she was being childish. If he thought that, he might suggest she needed to do a bit more growing up before courting, and make her wait until she turned nineteen. Why wouldn’t he just tell her who?
Chapter 4
Over a month had gone by since the church and three businesses in town had burned. The baker, barber, and milliner had reopened their “shops” in canvas tents, but were eager to have solid buildings again. Willum had been hired by all three to work on the construction. The owners collaborated to have one structure that they all owned part of, so they could share the expenses of building. Cheaper for everyone. And easier for Willum to work with all three owners at once. With the construction nearly complete, Willum could focus on the church, which would take longer because they did not have the funds yet.
Working from sunup until sundown on construction of the new business building left Willum fatigued. He had overslept this morning and had to creep into the back of the schoolhouse while the first hymn was already in progress. There was usually a seat available in the last pew. But with the schoolhouse being smaller, he had to stand in the back corner. He yawned and leaned his head back against the wall. Before he knew it the service was over. Lord, forgive me for falling asleep. I guess I’m more exhausted than I realized.
He let the corner hold him up until most of the people had filed out of the building. The reverend and his wife stood at the door to send his flock on their way. Natalie and her brothers were nowhere to be seen.
Willum shook the reverend’s hand then Mrs. Bollen’s.
Mrs. Bollen held onto his hand with her gloved one. “Will you join us for supper this evening?”
Willum swallowed hard. Sunday supper? No one was ever invited to the Bollens’ for Sunday supper. It was for family only. Willum was not family. The significance of the offer was not lost on him. He was being included with the family. If he said yes, they would have expectations of him. If he said no, then what would become of him and Natalie? “I would be honored.”
Mrs. Bollen smiled. “Fine. We’ll see you before six.” She patted his hand and released it.
Willum clicked open his pocket watch. Five fifty-seven. Snapping it closed, he slipped it back into his vest pocket and straightened his jacket. He’d never dressed up for supper with the Bollens before. He’d never felt as though he needed to.
He’d shaved a second time today and tied his shoulder-length hair at the nape of his neck. Should he have gotten it cut? He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be that civilized again just yet. And it was too late to worry about it now. He put his palm out to Sassy to make her stay then took a deep breath and knocked.
When the door opened, Natalie’s smiling face greeted him.
And he knew he’d come to the right place.
At the conclusion of supper, the reverend stood. “Willum, would you take a stroll with me?”
“Of course, sir.”
Natalie smiled eagerly at him.
Sassy darted around sniffing while Willum walked beside the reverend for five minutes in silence. Raising money for the new church building was going a lot slower than the reverend wanted. He had voiced many times that he hoped to have the building complete by the end of the summer. And here they were a week into August and they barely had half the money they needed. Attendance was dropping off as people made excuses for the small, stuffy space. Or did the reverend want to talk about the actual plans for the building? Was he displeased with them? Willum could certainly get started building some of the framing with the money raised so far. Maybe when peopl
e saw it starting to take shape, they would contribute more to the building fund. But it was not his place to initiate the conversation. Reverend Bollen was the one to request his presence. He would suffer in silence.
The older man finally spoke. “About Natalie.”
Willum’s throat went dry, and he couldn’t swallow.
“Over a year ago, you asked my permission to court my daughter, rather boldly I might add. I told you then that I would not allow her to be courted until she turned eighteen. She’s been eighteen for two months and quite impatient. Have you lost interest in her?”
“No!” The word flew out of his mouth.
The reverend coughed to cover a chuckle. “May I ask what the delay is?”
Delay? “I’ve been quite busy with the construction in town and the church building project.”
“It only takes a moment to ask. And you have had plenty of opportunities. Inviting you to Sunday supper was no oversight. Your acceptance or regrets would have told me how important my daughter still is to you. You didn’t turn us down. Yet you are reluctant to ask.”
Willum rubbed the back of his neck. “I was engaged three and a half years ago.”
“I take it that it didn’t end well.”
“If you mean me standing in front of the church in my finest, waiting and humiliated, then, yes, it didn’t end well.”
“What happened to her?”
“She ran off with a man who had a larger wallet than I did. Three days before the wedding! Her family kept it a secret because they were too embarrassed to tell people, and so they let me stand there like a fool. Waiting. I guess they thought it was fair for me to be embarrassed, too.”
“Your heart is afraid to love again.”
Willum shook his head. “I love Natalie.”
“But you are afraid to declare it.”
“I guess I am.”
“It’s difficult to trust with such a wound. There are five men to every woman here. You are not the only one who has expressed interest in courting my daughter.”
Willum’s insides tightened.
The reverend put a hand on his shoulder. “I have thought of you as a son. I would gladly welcome you into the family. But I cannot hold off the other suitors much longer. And Natalie’s patience is wearing thin. You need to decide if you are ready to take a risk.”
Willum nodded. “I’m ready.” He couldn’t lose Natalie. “May I court your daughter?” The moment he voiced the question, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
The reverend’s mouth broke out into a wide grin, and he nodded. “It’s about time, son. Shall we head back so you can tell her the good news?”
Natalie stood by the window, holding the curtain back. Where had Papa gone with Mr. Tate? It shouldn’t take this long to ask one simple question.
Mama sighed. “Honestly, Natalie. It is unfitting for a lady to gape out the window like a miscreant. Come away from there.”
Natalie swung around and into a chair. “Do you think he’s asking Papa right now?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Natalie hopped up and took hold of Mama’s arm. “Papa must have told you. Mr. Tate was invited for Sunday supper.”
“You’ll just have to be patient and wait.”
Natalie darted back to the window. “I hear voices. They’re coming back.”
“Get away from there and behave yourself. You’ll run poor Mr. Tate off before he has a chance.”
Natalie sat in the chair across from Mama by the fireplace and opened a book.
Matthew made a kissing sound.
Mama pointed at him and whispered rushed words, “We’ll have none of that from you. Just wait until it is your turn. I don’t want to hear a sound from—” Mama turned with a smile to the opening door.
Natalie looked down to pretend to be engrossed in reading when she saw the horrifying truth. The book was upside down. She closed it quickly and set it in her lap.
Papa and Mr. Tate stepped inside. Papa gave Mama a slight nod.
Natalie’s stomach danced.
Mr. Tate walked over to her with his hands clasped behind his back. “Miss Bollen, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a stroll?”
“It would be my pleasure.” She held out her hand, and Mr. Tate helped her to her feet.
Matthew made a guttural sound almost as though he were choking.
She would like to choke him.
Mama said, “Take a shawl. The night air has a chill to it.”
Natalie took one from a peg beside the door and swung it on. Mr. Tate closed the door behind them then offered his arm to her. She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, and he covered her hand with his. Neither of them wore gloves. His hand was warm. Sassy followed along beside them.
“I spoke to your father tonight.”
She wanted to jump into his arms, but he hadn’t said what he’d spoken to Papa about. She knew though.
“I have gained his permission, now I’d like yours.”
“Yes!” she blurted out.
He stopped their progress and smiled down at her. “I haven’t even asked yet.”
“Well then ask, so I can say yes.”
He started walking again.
She stopped, and her hand slipped off his arm before he stopped and turned. She planted her fists on her hips. “If you don’t ask me right now, I’ll go back home.”
He let out a jolly laugh then got serious. “Miss Bollen, may I have the honor of courting you?”
She let her hands slide off her hips. “I’ll think about it.”
He folded his arms, and a smile tugged at his lips.
She wanted to scream yes a thousand times that he could court her. But instead she decided for the ladylike approach. “I believe that being courted by you would be most pleasurable.” She took his arm again.
He chuckled. “Now can we drop all this formality?”
She giggled and leaned into his arm. “I’d like that. Now that we’re courting, you can call me Natalie. May I call you Willum?”
He seemed to think about it. “Hmm. I kind of like you calling me Mr. Tate. It makes you sound obedient.”
She tried to pull her hand free again, but he held tight and kept her at his side. “You are impossible, Willum.”
“Well, if you say it like that, I especially don’t like it.”
In her sweetest, most innocent voice, while batting her eyelashes, she said, “Willum.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She turned to face him. “Are you going to kiss me?”
He gazed down at her. “I’m not sure your father would approve.”
“He gave you permission to court me. I’m sure he expects it.”
He caressed her cheek and leaned closer ever so slowly, his breath fanning her mouth a moment before his lips touched hers.
Her first kiss was better than she’d imagined. Her insides turned to mashed potatoes and her knees to jelly.
Willum wrapped his arms around her, keeping her up.
Finally, Willum was hers.
Willum walked home with a huge smile on his face, a smile he couldn’t seem to tame, not that he really wanted to. He passed the charred ground that had been the church. He needed to do something about getting the construction started. He couldn’t finish the house and the church all at once. And he knew just how to get the extra money they needed.
Chapter 5
By the beginning of September, all the funds were in place and construction on the new church could begin. Monday, the first load of lumber would be paid for and delivered to the building site.
From the kitchen, Natalie studied Mama who looked worriedly at the mantel clock again and again. Supper was always at six. Papa had never been late. Never. He always arrived home well before six. Should they eat or wait? The question on everyone’s mind.
At a quarter past, David swung on his coat. “I’m going out to look for him.”
Matthew grabbed his c
oat, but before he could shove his arms into the sleeves, the door opened. Natalie could see Mama’s whole body relax at the sight of Papa.
Papa wasn’t smiling. He took off his hat and coat and hung them on a peg by the door. “Mr. Whitworth and I were at the schoolhouse counting the building fund money. A man with a bandana over his face came in with a gun. He took all the money. He tied us up and shoved us in a broom closet.”
Tears prickled in Natalie’s eyes. Papa had been so excited at the possibility of being in the new church building well before Thanksgiving. Something to be truly thankful for. Now the dwindling congregation wouldn’t have their church back even for Christmas.
Mama went to Papa and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Papa held Mama for a moment. “I’m going to eat quickly and walk over to Willum’s and give him the bad news.”
Natalie stepped through the kitchen doorway. “May I go with you, Papa?”
“If you wish.”
Natalie smiled. She’d never seen Willum’s place, just knew he had a cabin outside of town. She would get to see where she’d live after they married, know what kind of curtains she could start making. And if they’d need a rug in the front room by the fireplace. So many plans to make.
After supper, Natalie left with Papa. She couldn’t wait to see Willum even though they brought bad news. She had seen him yesterday, but she wanted to see him every day. Off the path, Papa headed for a small plank cabin. Her feet dragged. Papa got ahead of her. Her stomach knotted. This couldn’t be where Willum lived. It was too small. He worked hard and long and made a good wage. He was a carpenter. He could build a cabin as large as he wanted with many rooms. This cabin couldn’t be much bigger than her bedroom.
Papa stopped and looked back. “Don’t dawdle.”
She quickened her step, and the knot in her stomach tightened.
Cascades Christmas Page 22
