Marni's Measure (Brides 0f Pelican Rapids Book 4)

by Danni Roan

  “And how long did you run the mill?” Old Mr. Abrams asked with a tight smile.

  “Eight years,” Marni said, her lips growing tight as her chin lifted.

  “What brought you to Pelican Rapids?” Braden asked before Mr. Abrams could ask another question. “Other than the train of course,” he added with a smile making the rest of the guests laugh. He could see the tension in Mrs. Simms' shoulders diminish a tad and tried to hold her eyes.

  “It was time for a change,” Marni said, as the main entre’ of perfectly roasted chicken, fluffy mashed potatoes, and candied carrots, was brought to the table. “There were too many sad memories there for me,” she finished cutting her eyes to Miss Ella who nodded so slightly that if you hadn’t been watching you would have missed it altogether.

  “If you put Mr. Walker’s horses up,” Sam said, leaning around Marni to see Braden, “how come you aren’t all covered in horse slobber?”

  “Miss Ella was kind enough to loan me one of Josiah’s coats,” Braden admitted honestly.

  “And you’re welcome to it,” Josiah spoke. “I’ve never looked right in that particular shade of gray.”

  “Josiah, I thought you liked that coat,” his mother said. “You should have told me.”

  “You seemed to like it so well mother, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” the young man said. “Besides it is only one coat.”

  Braden smiled at Josiah, a considerate young man of eighteen who, though his mother owned the place, ran the farm almost single handedly. “How’s the hay crop coming?” he asked lifting his fork and taking a bite of the best chicken he had ever eaten. “I think we’ll have a hard winter,” he added after his first bite as the conversation turned to crops, farms, and the fall harvest.

  Chapter 12

  Iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend. Proverbs 27:17

  Slowly eating his meal, Braden watched the interchange between Marni and Sam as each time they finished one topic Mr. Abrams seemed to find something new that they had in common.

  Sam was a good sort, a friend for many years, and as a man of substance, he could see the young woman being drawn to him. Sam had a great deal to offer, and the fact that he ran a mill, a place that Miss Marni was familiar with, only made him more suitable for the woman.

  “Braden, are you bringing anything to the Fall Festival?” Lorna Lie asked, turning to look at Braden, her expression still dark after failing to speak to Sam. “Last year your pumpkins were amazing. Weren’t they Sam?” she asked flashing the man a smile that sparkled all the way to her blue eyes.

  “They were truly astounding,” Lorna’s father Carl replied before Braden opened his mouth. “I’d like to know your secret. Perhaps one day you’ll come to visit and tell me what you do,” the man smiled encouragingly.

  Braden nodded. He had produced some prize-winning pumpkins the previous year, and the new crop was looking equally good. “I don’t know that I do anything special,” he said, his voice humble. “Pa reads all of old Mr. Walker’s magazines, and we study the almanac as best we can.”

  “Your parents are still living?” Marni asked curiously. Her parents had passed only a few years earlier, and she still missed them every day.

  “Yes ma’am,” Braden answered. “Ma’s not feeling well this week, and Pa was determined to stay home with her. That’s why they sent me to bring their apologies to Miss Ella.”

  Marni smiled wondering what Braden’s parents were like. He seemed a sensible young man who worked hard. She knew what it was like to be the strong back in a family, and though her time at the mill had been enjoyable, it had also been heavy work for a woman on her own.

  “You seem to like what you do,” Marni mused.

  “I do,” Braden offered, with no fuss. “I enjoy farming.”

  “That’s why you should come for a visit to my place,” Mr. Tomlin’s said. “We have so much in common. Don’t we Lorna Lie?”

  “As do we, with Mrs. Simms,” Mr. Abrams said. “Don’t you agree Sam?” he asked pulling his son from a hushed conversation with Lorna Lie.

  “Yes sir,” Sam replied looking around him at his fellow guest with a bewildered expression. “Whatever you say Pa.”

  Ella watched her guests a smile twitching at her lips as laughter bubbled within. She was finding her dinner party very enlightening and was looking forward to what more would be revealed as Minnie served dessert, a fresh peach cobbler, still warm from the oven, with sugar and cream.

  Lifting her fork, Ella turned to look at Mr. Abrams, who had been working all night to engage Marni in conversation with Sam, while Lorna Lie had done her best to monopolize the young man at the same time.

  No sooner would Lorna Lie Tomlin ask a question then Mr. Abrams would direct Sam back to Marni, drawing his son into the conversation with a contrived question, or pointed comment, usually about the mill.

  For her part, Marni who was seated across from Sam and next to Braden had tried to keep up with polite conversation, but seemed to be called upon to answer one of the miller’s questions every few seconds.

  “Ella, what are you doing for the auction this year?” Mrs. Tomlin asked, drawing her attention away from the verbal badminton further down the table. “I thought I’d offer some of our Elderberry cordial this year. We had a very good crop.”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Ella admitted. “We still have three weeks before the festival, and I know everyone will pitch in to make it the finest yet.”

  “Have you attended a Fall Festival before?” Braden asked leaning toward Marni. “We have a rather nice one with most of the town turning out for the fun the past few years.”

  “We haven’t had any such thing in a very long time,” Marni confessed. “Times have been lean in Tennessee and are only starting to come back now.”

  Braden’s blue eyes grew soft as he gazed at the young woman. She must have been very strong to have lived through so much devastation, including the loss of her husband and family. “If you’d like to go,” Braden continued. “I’d be honored to escort you.”

  “You should let Sam take you to the festival,” Mr. Abrams barked, his voice loud enough to drown out all other conversation. “He’ll be competing in the horse race, and possibly the bale toss,” the man beamed. “He’s a strapping young man you see.”

  Marni smiled and nodded, but was unwilling to commit to anything. She had no idea what Miss Milton had planned for her and knew it was possible that in a month her circumstances could be very different indeed.

  “Why don’t we retire to the parlor for coffee,” Ella Milton said, before Mr. Abrams could continue. “I’m sure we’ll be more comfortable.”

  Rising, Ella took Josiah’s arm leading the way and missed much of what happened behind her.

  “Sam,” Mr. Abrams called grabbing his son by the arm and pushing him toward Marni, while Lorna Lie jumped up taking Sam’s other arm and pulling him toward the door.

  Mr. Tomlin offered his wife his arm and followed Ella and Josiah through the door, while Mrs. Abrams stared.

  In his enthusiasm to push Sam into position to escort Mrs. Simms, Mr. Abrams overstepped knocking Marni with a beefy shoulder and toppling her into Braden, who stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing Mrs. Simms before she crashed into the table, his strong hands slipping around her and practically lifting her off her feet.

  “Thank you,” Marni said, twisting to look over her shoulder at the farmer. As their eyes met, she felt a flicker of something in her chest, and her heart beat out a rapid pulse. Why was it that she was drawn to him? He was only a simple farmer, unaccustomed to dinner parties, or fancy clothes, yet something in his eyes drew her.

  “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Braden said, as Sam led Lorna Lie toward the parlor, oblivious to what was happening behind them. “You could have had a nasty bruise.”

  Marni felt a quiver in her middle where Braden’s hands still rested on her waist. “No,” she said, her voice a breath
y whisper as her dark eyes remained locked on his.

  Braden smiled steadying the pretty young woman from Tennessee, releasing her then offering her his arm as Mr. Abrams was tugged through the door by his petite and impatient wife.

  Chapter 13

  But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19

  Miss Ella read through the documents on her desk one more time certain the answer to the problem that was Marni Simms would reveal itself.

  The young woman had answered her interview questions honestly and though they pointed in one direction her instincts told her that the decision was wrong.

  Marni, though well settled at the Milton Farm and friendly with people in the community, wasn’t quite ready to marry her perfect match, but if all went well, by the Fall Festival everything would drop into place.

  Slipping the papers back into her large mahogany desk, Ella reached for her hat and stepped out into the hall, taking the turn up the stairs to find Mrs. Simms. It was time for another trip to town, and she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

  In two more weeks, the Fall Festival would take place, and Miss Ella planned on having things ready for the picnic basket auction. Miss Marni Simms would find out exactly what her worth was.

  “Marni, I’d like you to go to town with me,” Ella said. “I have a few errands to run and thought a trip might do us both good.”

  Marni looked up from her bed where she had been reading a book. “That sounds lovely,” she said. “I’ll get my hat and coat and be right down.”

  Ella walked out onto the front porch looking for her son who was busy harvesting hay in a side field, but he looked up when his mother stepped outside and waved.

  A half-hour later, Ella was seated in her carriage with Marni at her side as they drove toward Ottertail and a little excursion to town. Although Mrs. Simms had contented herself with walking about the farm, Ella knew that she needed to be active and today would be the perfect opportunity.

  “Where are we going?” Marni asked looking out along the lane at the trees that were changing their summer garb for fall colors.

  “I have several errands to run,” Ella said. “I need to stop off at the gristmill then we’ll head to the Mercantile for a few things.”

  Marni nodded absently, enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin. She had walked along Plum Lane several times to stretch her legs, but hadn’t gone into town again since that one day when Braden had carried her home.

  “Miss Ella,” Marni began turning to look at the woman driving the coach. “I was wondering what you are doing about finding me a match. As much as I enjoy staying in your home, I feel that I must be an extra expense you don’t need.”

  Ella smiled but didn’t meet the younger woman’s gaze. “I have that well in hand,” she said, shaking the reins and sending her team of well-matched chestnut horses into a trot.

  “Miss Milton, Mrs. Simms,” Mr. Abrams gushed as the two ladies walked into the Mill that afternoon. “What a pleasure. I only wish my wife were here to greet you.” The older man smiled eyeing Marni like a bushel of grain. “At least Sam’s about,” he added shouting up the stairs for his son.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” Marni’s response was polite, as Sam clattered down the stairs.

  “Pa?” he asked curiously ducking his head at the two ladies waiting in the entrance. “Good day ladies,” he offered. “What can we do for you?”

  “I’m in to order twenty pounds of flour and five pounds of cornmeal,” Ella said. “I’m preparing for the Fall Festival, and Mrs. Simms and I will be doing some baking for her dinner basket raffle,” she said, her voice sweet. “I thought perhaps Mrs. Simms had some special items she liked to make, and we came to town to prepare.”

  Marni looked at Miss Milton, her brow raised in question, but she didn’t say a thing.

  “Well, isn’t that lovely?” Mr. Abrams asked slapping his son on the back. “Sam you’ll have to bid on Mrs. Simms’ basket. I’m sure it will be full of wonderful treats and good eats.”

  Marni smiled but didn’t respond as Sam stared at her blankly.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you, Miss Milton?” Abrams asked. “I’m sure Sam would be willing to drive you ladies about town or help you with parcels.”

  “Pa, I’ve got sacks of grain to empty and two flour deliveries for the hotels here in town,” Sam protested.

  “You have plenty of time,” Mr. Abrams said, grinning manically, “plenty of time.”

  “I think we’ll be fine on our own,” Ella said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m sure Sam doesn’t wish to have to escort two ladies around town. Could you send the flour out to the farm when it’s ready please?” she finished linking arms with Marni and walking back out to the waiting carriage.

  As the two ladies made their way to the general store Marni studied her companion. She wasn’t sure what Miss Milton was up to, but she was surely doing something. “What sort of things should I put in the basket?” she asked. “We used to have dances back home where we’d pack a picnic and men could bid on them, but I was already married, so I let mine go for charity.”

  “You can make whatever you like,” Ella said, “and make sure you let Minnie help or she’ll feel left out,” she added with a chuckle. “I’m sure there will be several gentlemen who will be happy to bid on dinner with such a lovely young woman like you.”

  Marni shook her head, not feeling at all young for the moment. There would be many younger and more eligible women at the festival, she was sure, but she had put her trust in Miss Ella, and she wouldn’t question the woman now.

  As the Mercantile came into sight, the young woman from Tennessee ran through the most common dishes she had made back home. The food in Minnesota had been wonderful, and Minnie Jacobs was an amazing cook, but it would be nice to make a few of her favorite dishes.

  Chapter 14

  But I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you. Matthew 5:44

  “Ella,” Theodora Carter said, as Miss Milton and Marni walked into the store. “Whatever brings you to town today?”

  “Hello Theodora, how are you?” Ella asked. “Mrs. Simms and I have come to town to purchase a few supplies for the Fall Festival basket auction.”

  “Are you participating this year?” the store keeper’s wife asked her eyes sparkling. “Perhaps there’s a certain someone you’d like to attract.”

  Everyone in Pelican Rapids knew that Theodora Carter was the town’s biggest gossip, and by the end of the day, the entire town would know that Ella Milton was buying items for a basket.

  “Mrs. Simms will be participating in the raffle,” Ella said. “I will, as always contribute a basket for charity use only.”

  The other woman scowled, turning to Marni. “Mrs. Simms,” she said with a stiff smile, “I had heard that Ella had a new client at her home. Where did you say you’re from?”

  Marni lifted her chin but remained pleasant. “I’m from Tennessee,” she replied.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what happened to your husband?” Mrs. Carter said. “I can only assume you’re looking for a new one if you’re here with Ella Milton.”

  “Mrs. Simms' husband was killed in the war, like so many of our brave men who stood up for what they believed in,” Ella answered cutting the other woman short. “Marni is ready to start again and came to Pelican Rapids to see what she’d like to do next.”

  Mrs. Carter pressed her lips but didn’t say anything else about the subject. Instead, she gestured around the store. “Just let me know what you need,” she said, indicating the shelves. “We have most anything you could want in our store.”

  Marni cut her eyes toward Miss Milton thankful for the matchmaker’s intervention. “If you have a piece of paper,” Marni said, “I’ll write everything down to make it easier.”

  “Did
you enjoy your outing?” Ella asked as she turned the carriage back toward home. “It seems you have everything you need for the Fall Festival.”

  Marni smiled as they cleared the heavier traffic of town and headed toward Plum Lane. “It was very informative,” she said. “I’m finding I like Pelican Rapids,” Marni said. “It is a very lively community.”

  Making the turn onto Plum, Ella smiled urging the horses to a slightly faster pace just as a buckboard came dashing up the lane.

  Marni leaned forward on the carriage seat her eyes falling on Braden approaching at a good clip. As the carriage and wagon passed each other, Braden turned his head to catch a better look at Mrs. Simms careening toward the intersection.

  Marni twisted in her seat in time to see the old buckboard swing wide but not before the back wheel of the wagon clipped a large dray wagon full of produce with a heart-rending crack.

  “Miss Ella,” Marni cried, “There’s been an accident.”

  Ella Milton pulled the horses to a stop, her gloved hands clamped around the reins as she called to Fern and Fanny as they skidded to a stop by the side of the lane.

  Marni jumped from the carriage before it had come to a stop, lifting her skirt over her ankles and running back the way they had come, her eyes glued on the off-kilter wagon almost on its side in the ditch.

  “You sure you’re all right son?” a burly man asked as he held Braden’s arm. “You came around here mighty quick like, and my team doesn’t move so fast.”

  “I’m fine,” Braden said, hanging his head, irritated at his carelessness. “Is there any damage to your wagon?”

  The big man chuckled. “It looks fine to me. I’m afraid you’re not going to be so lucky,” he finished.

  “Mr. Prater,” Marni said, laying a hand across her chest as she tried to catch her breath. “Is anyone hurt?” she asked her heart pounding with fear.