Christmas with the Cookes

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Christmas with the Cookes Page 15

by Kit Morgan


  “Why did you take this part, anyway?”

  “From what I was told, ‘cause Mrs. King wouldn’t let ya do it with the girl you’re courting.”

  “We’re not courting!”

  “Ya wish ya were.”

  Jefferson did wish he was courting Lorelei Carson. But he wasn’t sure he was allowed to, what with her being from the future and all. The MacDonalds and his parents hadn’t said they couldn’t … but what if the MacDonalds came and whisked her back to the Clear Creak of two-thousand-whatever? He couldn’t just leave everything and catch a ride with them – and besides, what little she’d told him of the future sounded so strange. He would be setting himself up for heartbreak when she left, and who needed that? “You aren’t supposed to talk, Owen.”

  Owen laughed like a loon.

  “What’s going on?” Colin asked.

  “Nothing.” Jefferson gave Owen’s belt a yank.

  Owen stopped laughing, but not teasing. “Jefferson Cooke’s sweet on somebody …” he whispered.

  “Maybe. But no girl’s sweet on Owen Kincaid.”

  That shut Owen up. Which was the idea. But that just left Jefferson thinking about Lorelei. She was amazing – smart and strong, and with a sweetness about her he couldn’t explain. Did she even know it was there? He sensed she was unsure of herself, even though it seemed like she could learn anything. And she was frightened so much of the time; he could see it in her eyes. Part of that was because the MacDonalds hadn’t told her she was coming here. Why hadn’t they told her, or Father and Mother? What was she doing with them in the first place?

  He didn’t know the MacDonalds well, but he did know strange things happened whenever they came to town. His mother told him about the time they brought friends that were stranger, like years back when a big Negro man and his wife were with them. He couldn’t remember their names, but would never forget how others described what they looked like – the man had to be seven feet tall, and his wife six. The last time they showed up was when Amon Cotter married Nettie Holmes and helped the new couple build their first cabin. The man was always laughing a lot and slapping people on the back. Hard. He shuddered at the memory.

  “Are you okay back there?” Owen hissed.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I didn’t mean to rile you up. Well, not too much.”

  “It’s okay. I guess you’re right – I am kind of sweet on her. I think she might be sweet on me too.”

  “I wish some girl was sweet on me,” Owen sighed. “I wish there were more girls around. It’s just your sisters and cousins, and … I’d feel odd courting one of them. They’re like my sisters and cousins too.”

  He smiled at the concern in Owen’s voice. “I know what you mean. But you’re not old enough to get married yet – there’s plenty of time. Someone might move here with a daughter. You might go somewhere else. Maybe even send for a mail-order bride – it’s worked before.”

  “With purt near half the town,” Owen chuckled. “Or maybe I should ask the MacDonalds to bring me one.” They both laughed at that, earning another warning to hush.

  When practice was finally done, Owen unbuttoned his half of the costume, ducked out of the head and let it fall. “Whew, I’m glad that’s over.”

  Jefferson straightened, a hand to his back. “Me too.” He pulled the brown sheet off him and ran a hand through his hair.

  Owen gasped. “Wow, your face is red!”

  Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Yours would be too if you were the back half. Want to trade?”

  “No!”

  Jefferson took a deep breath and smiled. “Coward.”

  “No, smart. Besides, I figure you’d give me your leftover beans if you had the chance.” Owen gathered up his half-costume. “Where do I put these?”

  “The office. Annie will take them to the parsonage later.” Jefferson was watching Lorelei speak with Mrs. King about some other costume. He still couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. So pure and untouched, like a doll in a brightly colored box. A gift he was just starting to open.

  He pulled his gaze away. He shouldn’t be thinking these things. The MacDonalds would come and he’d never see her again.

  “Jeff,” his father called.

  He turned. “Yes?”

  “Since we’re all done, why don’t you take Lorelei to the mercantile so she can get some clothes?” He joined him on the platform and gave him some money. “This should be enough. Your mother is there, she can help her pick something out.”

  He nodded, then thought a moment. “Could we get some tea at the hotel if there’s time?”

  “Hmm, I suppose that would be all right. You’ll come back here straight after tea, though – no dawdling?”

  Jefferson’s heart began to race. “Yes, sir.”

  “Fine, but just in case …” He glanced around. “Grandma!”

  Jefferson’s eyes went wide. No, not Grandma Waller! Having Adele accompany them tomorrow was one thing, but Grandma? He wouldn’t be able to ask Lorelei about herself with Grandma around. Worse, she would encourage them to court! Everyone knew what a horrible chaperone – and romantic – she was! What was his father doing? Unless …

  “Yes, Colin?” Grandma shuffled down the aisle toward them.

  “Jeff and Lorelei are going to the mercantile, then for a cup of tea at the hotel.”

  She smiled at Jefferson and winked. “That’s nice.”

  “Would you liked to join them?” his father asked.

  “I’d be delighted! Don’t worry, Colin, I’ll keep a close eye on them.”

  Jefferson glanced Lorelei’s way. She was still speaking with Annie. How were they going to handle this? They really shouldn’t court, not if the MacDonalds were just going to take her away again. And they couldn’t talk about the future with someone who didn’t know Lorelei was from there.

  But Father knew that too. If he was asking Grandma, that hopeless matchmaker, to go with them, did she already know? Hmmm …

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How about this one?” Belle held up a red calico dress with tiny blue flowers on it and the bodice and collar trimmed in lace. Most importantly, it wouldn’t hang off her like a flour sack. “Prairie dresses,” as Lorelei had come to call them, were comfortable but shapeless. The ready-made “Sunday clothes” in the mercantile weren’t like that.

  “Try this green one on too,” Belle continued. “I think it would look lovely on you. Aunt Irene ordered these from Portland.”

  Lorelei examined the green day dress made from sturdy cotton. It was pretty and it would last. “I don’t want to spend all the MacDonalds’ money,” she told Belle.

  “Nonsense, you have nothing. They left us with enough for you to get a few outfits.” Belle looked at Lorelei’s feet. “Might I suggest some shoes too?”

  “Please.” Lorelei was tired of answering questions about her anachronistic Chuck Taylors.

  “You can use the storeroom.” Belle handed her both frocks and went hunting for footwear.

  Lorelei took them, went through the curtain, stopped and stared at the stairwell leading up to the Dunnigans’ apartment. Her apartment. She swallowed hard. “Belle?”

  “Yes?”

  She peeked at her through the curtain. “Your aunt and uncle live up there?”

  Belle came through and stood next to her. “Yes, it’s a cozy little place. I lived with them when I first came to town, but you already knew that. What’s the matter … oh, that’s right. You lived up there … or live up there when …”

  “Yeah.” Lorelei nodded slowly. “It’s pretty cozy in my time too.”

  Belle smiled. “Very, would you like to see it?”

  Lorelei took a breath. “Could I?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Aunt Irene and Uncle Wilfred won’t mind.” She disappeared into the storefront but returned within seconds. “I’ve got the key.” She started up the stairs.

  Lorelei followed, her heart in her throat. For some reason she
wished Jefferson was with her, but he’d escorted Grandma to her house so she could get something.

  Belle unlocked the door and pushed it open. “After you.”

  Lorelei fought against tears. What was she doing? She’d managed to hold herself together this past week by immersing herself in the Cookes’ daily activities and telling herself she should enjoy it while she could, convincing herself her situation was a blessing, not something to be terrified of. But below that she was terrified by the surrealistic scenario.

  “Lorelei?”

  She met Belle’s gaze, forced a smile and stepped inside.

  To see the apartment now was exhilarating and sad at the same time. The furniture was placed differently. The chairs in front of the windows with the table between them in her apartment were against a wall instead. A sofa sat in front of the windows, a little coffee table in front of it. There were no pictures of Paddy and Mary Mulligan on the wall yet, nor even of the Dunnigans. But there would be in about ten years.

  “This is the kitchen,” Belle stepped into the hall. “There’s no dining room, but they don’t need one.”

  Lorelei followed her, took one look at the cookstove, the table and chairs, the gingham curtains in the windows, the hutch, and sighed. “It’s wonderful.”

  Belle laughed. “I’m glad you think so.”

  The dry sink was in the same place as the modern one, but the table and chairs were in front of the windows, not against the wall. When she got back, she’d change it to this. She hoped she’d get back. Or was she forever stuck in this century?

  “Down this way are the bedrooms.”

  Lorelei stared at the large bedroom. In her time half of it was her bathroom. “How do they get water?”

  Belle laughed. “From the water pump out back, how else?”

  “Oh, yes. I wasn’t thinking.” The old couple had to haul their water upstairs every day? Wow.

  Belle led her to the other bedroom. “This is the room I stayed in when lived with them. Well, in the old building. It burned down.”

  “It did?” she said in shock.

  “Yes, this is the second mercantile. It’s much bigger and better than the first one.”

  She nodded as she noted the armoire – the same one as in her apartment! She stared at it in awe, then looked for … yes! The washstand was there too! “This is still there.”

  “Really?” Belle joined her at the armoire. “Uncle Wilfred bought it for my aunt last Christmas. She loves it.” She opened it and smiled. “It’s so nice; I’m a little jealous. And you say it’s still in here?”

  “Right in this spot too. I half expect to see my own clothes hanging up here.” Lorelei sighed, fighting back homesickness. As nice as it was here, part of her still longed for her own time when most people hated or ignored her. It was all what you’re used to, she supposed.

  “Most don’t have drawers – that’s why I love this one,” Belle went on. “I keep hinting at Colin, but so far, nothing. Though Christmas is just a few days away. Speaking of which, we need to prepare things for the tree.”

  Lorelei continued to stare at the armoire. “I like Christmas trees.”

  “So do I. I’d better make a list of everything that needs to be done.” She went to a writing desk, took out some paper and a pencil and began to jot things down.

  Lorelei’s eyes went wide. “Belle, could I have a piece of paper and something to write with? I need to make a note to myself. I … forget things sometimes.” True enough, but that wasn’t what she wanted it for.

  “Certainly.” She pulled out another sheet of paper and handed it to her. “You can use the desk. I can finish my list downstairs.” She stood. “There’s pen and ink in the drawer. And while you’re up here, you can try on the dresses.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Close the door when you leave, will you? Then I’ll lock it.”

  Lorelei nodded, opened the top drawer and took out a fountain pen as Belle left. “Wow.” She found the inkwell, opened it and grinned. “This is so cool.” She dipped the pen in the ink, stared at the paper a moment, then began to write.

  * * *

  “Did you make your list?” Jefferson asked when she came downstairs.

  She glanced at Belle and back. Belle must have told him what she was doing upstairs. “Er … yes.” She patted the pocket of her dress for good measure.

  Belle headed for the curtain. “I’ll lock it back up while I’m thinking about it. You’re not the only one that forgets things, Lorelei. The older I get, the worse I become.” She disappeared behind the curtain.

  Jefferson smiled. “Did you pick out a dress?”

  “Oh!” she said in surprise. “I left the dresses up there – be right back!” She hurried behind the curtain and up the stairs to the back bedroom, plucked the dresses off the back of the chair and began to leave, taking one last look at the armoire as she did. With a smile, she headed back downstairs. “The red one is great, but the green is okay too.”

  Jefferson glanced at the mercantile doors. “We’d better hurry or we won’t have time for tea with Grandma.”

  “You’re having tea with Grandma?” Belle said in surprise.

  Jefferson shrugged. “Father asked her to chaperone us.”

  His mother glanced between him and Lorelei. “Did he?”

  “Mother, it’s only tea. Besides, what else can we do with our extra time?”

  “I can think of plenty that needs to be done around here.” Belle eyed him a moment. “But all right, have your tea. I’ll pay for those for you, Lorelei, and bring them home with us. Wait – the shoes!” She rushed over to another shelf and pulled two boxes off it. “Try these on – just have a seat over there.”

  “Thank you.” She hurried over to Jefferson, who was standing right by the chair his mother had indicated and sat down to try the shoes. Both pairs fit fine, though she instantly missed the comfort of her Chuck Taylors – these shoes were stiff and unyielding. But they probably would protect her from horses’ hooves, as Adele had hinted, and the thick leather would last a lifetime. Still wearing one pair, she repacked the other and brought it back to Belle. “Both will do.”

  “Lovely.” Belle put the Converses in the empty box. “I’ll take care of these if you like. You two had better check on Grandma. Oh, and Jeff?”

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “Take my wagon home when you’re finished. I’ll ride home with your father and the others. They’re coming here after play practice to help me with a few things.”

  Jefferson gave his mother a nod then headed for the door without a word. Lorelei grabbed her coat and followed. She caught Belle watching them as she closed the door behind her, then hurried down the porch steps. Jefferson was walking away as if he was fleeing something. Whatever was wrong with Jeff, she wanted to know.

  She hurried across the snow and mud-covered street, careful not to let the hem of her dress get wet, and finally caught up with him at Grandma’s porch. “Why did you leave so fast?” she panted. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He turned away and knocked on the door. “Grandma said she was getting something for you.”

  “For me?”

  He nodded but still didn’t turn around. Lorelei felt like smacking him upside the head! Why was he acting so strange? Of course, she was the outsider, the one that didn’t know what was what around here, but that was all the more reason for Jeff to explain things.

  Grandpa – no, Doc – Waller let them in, and they waited at the bottom of the stairs for Grandma. Lorelei stared at Jefferson’s back, his broad shoulders and long legs. He had the “V” shape girls referred to when comparing boyfriends. If he ever came to the 21st century, he could become a fashion model if he wanted.

  “Here we are.” Grandma came downstairs, holding a small vial. “I knew I had some left.”

  “What is it?” Jefferson asked.

  She joined them and held it up. “Something the MacDonalds gave me. I want you to have i
t, child.” She handed it to Lorelei.

  She stared at it; her cheeks hot. She shouldn’t be thinking about how nice Jefferson’s jean-clad derriere looked, nor the rest of him, for that matter. Yet the more time she spent with him, the harder it was becoming to ignore her growing feelings.

  “Go ahead, take it,” Grandma urged.

  Lorelei took the vial and studied it. It was full of green powder. “What is it?”

  “Medicine. They bring it to me periodically – clears the head and makes you feel like new. I thought maybe you might need it more than I do.”

  “Drugs?” she said in shock. “They’re giving you drugs?!” Oh great, this figures! Not only were the MacDonalds kidnappers, but dealers too?

  “Drugs?” Grandma said innocently. “You mean medicine.”

  “Yes, of course, but …”

  “Child, why are you so upset? This is the finest herb mixture I’ve ever had.”

  Lorelei stared at the vial, then at Jefferson. “How much does she know?” she whispered.

  “Child, I’ve known Dallan and Shona for twenty years,” Grandma scolded. “They can’t keep secrets from me any more than anyone else in town can. You came from the future Clear Creek. Don’t ask me how, but they have their ways.”

  Well, that settled that, though it took Lorelei a few seconds to get her voice working again. “And they … knocked me out with some ‘medicine’ before they brought me here. That’s why I reacted the way I did.”

  “I know, and don’t think I didn’t give them a good talking-to about that. They could’ve just asked you. But you’re here now, and we’re glad to have you. That stuff is safe, I promise.”

  Lorelei smiled. Clearly Grandma knew what she was about. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “Well, we’ll call it a misunderstanding. The MacDonalds could’ve handled it better, I think. But they’ve never given us a reason to distrust them before, and I’m not about to start now.” She nodded at the vial in her hand. “That’s all I have. If you get a headache, feel dizzy, any of that, just mix a teaspoonful in a glass of water and drink it down. You’ll sleep better too.”

 

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