“I’m well, Fred. And yourself?” the man asked, handing him a thin sheet of paper.
Fred’s brow wrinkled as he read the message. He read it again then smiled.
“Good news?” Horace asked, knowing exactly what the message said, but obviously hoping Fred would elaborate on the details.
“It is good news. I recently discovered the whereabouts of my mother’s family and hoped to find out more about them. This is from my grandfather’s attorney. It looks like he sent a special delivery package with all the details of my family history and it is due to arrive soon.” Fred tucked the paper into his pocket. “Thanks, Mr. Greenblum. This news is a great way to start the day.”
“I hope whatever he sent will be just what you were looking for, Fred.”
“Me, too. Enjoy your day, Mr. Greenblum.” Fred whistled as he made his way past the Christian Church. He waved at Chauncy Dodd as the pastor hurried through the cold to the parsonage. Happy and excited about the information the attorney sent, Fred crossed the street and strolled past Bruner’s Mercantile. He slowed his steps to admire the festive holiday display in the big front window. Red and green ribbons and shiny foil snowflakes, no doubt cut out by Alice Bruner, hung above an assortment of interesting gift items. Fred grinned as he looked at the camera on display. He’d won a similar camera last year when the store gave one away. It was fun to play with, but he’d never have a career as a photographer. Percy Bruner had received the exact same model for Christmas and had a flair for taking interesting photographs and wonderful portraits.
Fred chuckled, thinking about how many of Percy’s portraits were of Anna Jenkins.
He waited for two wagons to pass then crossed the street to the bakery. The scent of cinnamon and apples wafting on the slight breeze made his stomach growl with hunger. He turned the knob on the door and listened to the familiar jingle of the bell. He’d hung it back up yesterday before he left, since he’d knocked it down when he’d stormed in to see what Elsa was doing hanging out the upper story windows.
With a night to think about what she planned to do, he hoped she’d reconsider moving into the apartment upstairs. Although he knew he shouldn’t worry, a niggling feeling made him anxious for her safety. She already spent nearly all her waking hours at the bakery, so sleeping in the same building shouldn’t make a difference, but somehow it made her seem more vulnerable.
A few weeks back, he’d overhead a few drunks leaving the saloon talking about her and connecting her name to the missing saloon girl Gloria. The dunderheads in town might never get it through their dense skulls that Elsa and Gloria were two completely different people.
Whether Elsa knew it or not, she needed to be careful and keep her guard up, especially if she’d be living alone. The evenings she walked home by herself, Fred had kept an eye on her. One night, she almost caught him, but he’d ducked behind Mr. Dillon’s home before she was any the wiser. He should have just insisted on walking with her, but he didn’t want her to get the idea he was, in any way, courting her.
He merely cared about her as a friend and wanted to keep her safe. At least that’s what he convinced himself of anytime he questioned the reason behind his protective feelings. In truth, each time he saw one of the single men in town talking to Elsa, even when she waited on them at the bakery, he felt a raw streak of jealousy. Like some primitive cavedweller, he wanted to claim Elsa as his own, but he had no right. No right and no reason.
Fred removed his hat as he closed the bakery door behind him. He nodded to the handful of people already seated at tables, enjoying warm pastries and aromatic cups of steaming coffee. Elsa breezed through the doorway from the kitchen, a tray of coffee cakes in her hands.
She slid the tray into the display case then smiled at Fred. “Good morning, Fred. What can I get you?”
“The usual,” he said, placing money on the counter.
Elsa poured him a glass of milk, placed two still-warm cinnamon buns on a plate then went into the kitchen. She returned with a plate mounded with fluffy scrambled eggs and several pieces of crispy bacon. “Here you go,” she said, handing him the plate and a napkin wrapped around a set of cutlery.
“Thank you, Elsa,” he said, carrying his breakfast to the table in the far corner. The murmurs of conversation around him provided a pleasant backdrop as he took a book from his pocket. While he ate his breakfast, he lost himself in the adventurous tale until he glanced up and found Elsa smiling at him, teapot in hand.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked, already reaching to set a full cup on the table.
“Yes, please,” Fred said, leaning back and wiping his mouth on a napkin. “That was delicious, as always. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, as always.” She craned her neck around to read the title of his book. “Do you enjoy H.G. Wells? I haven’t yet read any of his works.”
Fred lifted the book and looked at the cover. “The Time Machine is good so far. It’s about a scientist who invents a machine that allows him to travel back in time.”
Elsa got a faraway look on her face. “Being able to go back in time and make different choices wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
Fred was surprised by her comment. While his life was riddled with dozens of regrets he’d repair if he could, he couldn’t imagine anything Elsa had done that would make her wish she could go back in time to erase an error in judgment. “What would you change?”
Her cheeks pinked and she dropped her gaze to the table, using the rag in her hand to brush away a few crumbs. “Oh, don’t we all have things in our past we wish we could alter?”
“Yes, we do.” Fred took that to mean she wouldn’t share her thoughts on the subject. He cleared his throat and looked up at her. Dark circles marred the delicate skin beneath her eyes while worry lines etched across her brow. No matter how much he thought she should remain under the same roof with her brother, it was clear she needed to do something different. “Did you change your mind about moving in here?”
“No. Not at all. As soon as I clean up after lunch, I’m going to move my things. Ethan won’t like it, but that’s just too bad. He made his choices and now I have to make mine.”
“Have you talked to him? Told him how you feel?” Fred asked, unprepared for the furious sparks shooting from Elsa’s eyes.
“Talk to him? Ethan acts like he’s deaf and dumb unless Lottie is the one talking, then he’s all ears.” Elsa huffed and set the teapot on the table with a thud. “I’ve tried several times to discuss the situation with him, but he won’t listen. Every time I do, he just tells me we’ll talk later.”
“Is he helping in the bakery today?” Fred asked, hating the thought of Elsa handling the load of work alone.
“No, he isn’t. He and Lottie aren’t early to rise, although they’re plenty early to bed.” The blush on her cheeks deepened and she turned away from Fred to hide her embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”
Fred swallowed a chuckle. “How about I help you clean up before I head out? If you need help moving this afternoon, I’m available.”
She picked up the teapot and gave him a sweet smile. “You are such a good friend, Fred. What would I do without you?”
He started to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t want to even think about it. However, I won’t accept your help this morning, but I would appreciate it this afternoon. Would you be able to meet me here at two?”
“Yes, I will. Do you need me to bring a wagon?” Fred asked, tucking the book in his pocket and rising to his feet.
“I don’t have a lot to move, but it might be easiest if we use your wagon.”
Fred gulped the last of his tea, set the cup back on the table, then placed a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry about anything, my little friend. Things have a way of working out.”
Elsa nodded. “They certainly do.”
Later that afternoon, Fred and Elsa had just finished loading the last of what she wanted to t
ake with her to the apartment when Ethan and Lottie returned to the house. They’d been out when Fred and Elsa arrived.
Ethan’s mouth fell open in surprise and Lottie’s eyes were wide as they hurried to the wagon, gaping from Elsa to Fred and back again.
“What’s going on?” Ethan asked, glowering at Fred.
Elsa moved in front of her brother, fisting her gloved hands on her hips. “I’m moving out, that’s what’s going on.”
“I forbid it!” Ethan sidestepped her and shook his fist at Fred. “You can’t possibly think I’d let my sister move in with you. She’s not some harlot from the Red Lantern. I suppose you’ve already ruined her. I’d insist Chauncy marry you, but I’m not sure…”
Fred didn’t take time to think, he just reacted. His fist flew out and popped Ethan in the jaw, sending the man sprawling on his back in the snow.
Lottie screamed and dropped to her knees beside her husband while Fred lifted Elsa up to the wagon seat then moved to stand over Ethan.
“Your sister is the finest woman I know. If you’d bothered to listen to her instead of ignoring every word she’s said since you got married, you’d know how unhappy she is living here with you two. On top of that, you’ve left her all the work to do at the bakery while you sashay around town like you’ve nothing better to do in the world than wile away the day. If you aren’t going to pull your weight at the bakery, then be man enough to tell her or hire some help to do it.” Fred reached down and pulled Ethan to his feet with one quick tug. “Elsa is moving into the apartment above the bakery. When you’ve got a civil tongue in your head and are ready to apologize to her for what you said, what you just accused her of, you can find her there.” Fred tipped his hat to a bewildered Lottie then swung onto the wagon seat, snapped the reins, and left without another word.
“Fred,” Elsa whispered, placing her hand on his arm as they drove down the street.
“Elsa, I’m sorry for hitting your brother, but he deserved it. He’s acted like the hind end of a donkey since he married Lottie. You deserve better than how he’s been treating you.” Fred turned and looked at her, expecting her to be upset with him. Instead, the warmth in her smile and the mirth twinkling in her eyes took him by surprise. “You aren’t mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” she squeezed his arm between her hands. “How could I be mad at my knight in shining armor?” She swung her fist in the air as though she hit an imaginary foe and laughed. “I’ve wanted to slug Ethan for a week, only I wouldn’t have stopped at just him. If it was me, both he and Miss La-De-Da would be sitting in the snow with blood spurting from their noses.”
Fred barked with laughter and kissed Elsa’s cheek. “You are something else, Miss Elsa Lindstrom.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?” she asked.
“A very good thing.”
It didn’t take the two of them long to carry her bed, dresser, mirror, a chair and small table upstairs, along with a few boxes, three trunks, and a lamp.
Fred stood in the empty sitting area. “What are you going to put in here?” he asked as Elsa walked past the room with a box of hats.
“Nothing for a while. I want to save my money and right now, I can’t see the need for a set of furniture in here. I’ll spend most of my time downstairs, anyway. I’ve got a place to sleep and, thankfully, a bathroom, so that’s all I really need.”
“Are you sure? I could probably find…”
Elsa shook her head with such vehemence, Fred snapped his mouth shut. “It will be just fine, Fred. It’s not like I’ll be entertaining company up here or anything.”
She took the hats to her bedroom and Fred went back downstairs to carry up her last trunk of clothes. He’d just hefted it when a fancy black sleigh trimmed in gold with crimson velvet seats went past him down Main Street.
Fred gawked at the three women sitting in the back of it, bundled in furs. Unable to grasp onto a reason why, they looked undeniably familiar. He set down the trunk and stared as the sleigh pulled around in a circle and stopped in front of Bruner’s Mercantile. The driver said something to the women then stepped inside the store.
Before Fred could lift the trunk and retreat inside the bakery, Aleta Bruner stepped outside with the driver and looked up and down the street. When she saw Fred, she waved at him and said something to the driver before disappearing back inside.
Fred stood as though his feet had become frozen in place as the driver climbed back in the sleigh then drove it over and stopped right behind Fred.
“Are you Mr. Fred Decker?” the driver asked in a cultured, clipped tone.
“I am,” Fred said, rubbing a hand along the neck of the horse closest to him as he moved toward the driver’s seat and the intriguing women.
“Mr. Decker, was your mother Mildred Baker Decker?” the man inquired.
“She was.” Fred gave the women in the back of the sleigh another curious glance. He still had no idea what they wanted with him although something about them seemed so recognizable.
“Do you know your grandfather’s name?” the driver asked as he stepped off the sleigh and moved to assist the women down.
“Sure. He was John Baker. He married Ethel, my mother’s mother. When she died, he married a pretty young woman named…” The air whooshed out of Fred as he realized who the women in the back of the sleigh reminded him of. They looked nearly identical to the photo of his grandfather’s second bride. Dark hair, perfect skin, and delicate cheekbones made them look like triplets, although the tallest of the three appeared a few years younger than the other two.
Fred took a step closer as the three women beamed at him, full of smiles and excitement. He’d been wrong when he assumed his eye color came from his father. There, staring back at him, were three sets of living proof that he’d inherited his grandfather’s eyes. These women had to be related to him.
“Oh, that’s quite enough proof, Murtag,” said the woman standing in the middle, smiling at the older man who’d questioned Fred. She turned the full force of her smile on Fred and stepped forward, hands extended. “Gracious, Fred! We expected our nephew to be a young boy, not a handsome, strapping young man. I bet you break at least a heart a day if not two.”
Fred blushed and shook his head. “No, ma’am. At least not that I know of, ma’am.”
She laughed and enfolded Fred in a warm hug as an expensive, floral scent settled around him. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Fred. I’m Arianna Baker Butler, your aunt. And these two imps are my sisters. I’d be so pleased if you’d call me Aunt Ari.” She held a hand out to the other women to join them.
The shortest one smiled and hugged Fred. “I’m Bettina Baker Dillard, but you may call me Aunt Bett.”
The tallest, youngest sister laughed and hugged Fred. Her lips curled into a saucy grin as she moved next to Ari. “Although I’m your aunt, you were born ten months before me. Oh, and I’m Clarice Baker, but everyone calls me Claire.”
Shocked speechless, Fred gaped at his aunts, a trio of beautiful, wealthy women he had no idea existed until just moments ago.
“Fred?” Elsa asked as she walked up to the wagon and saw him staring in confused awe at the three lovely females. “Is everything okay?”
“Who’s this?” Ari asked, shifting her attention from Fred to the blonde-haired woman behind him.
Fred cleared his throat and scrambled to gather his wits. He stepped back and placed a hand on Elsa’s shoulder, gently nudging her forward. “Elsa, although I didn’t realize it, I have three aunts. Let me introduce you to my Aunt Ari, Aunt Bett, and Aunt Claire.” Fred grinned at his aunts, regaining his humor and sense. “Beautiful aunties, this is my friend, Elsa Lindstrom, the finest baker you’ll ever hope to meet and owner of this establishment.”
His aunts surrounded Elsa, giving her hugs, asking questions, and charming her into escorting them inside. Fred hefted the trunk and carried it upstairs while Elsa showed his aunts the bakery then took them upstairs to her apartment. They admired the qui
lt on her bed and inquired about her empty sitting room before Elsa guided them back downstairs where she served hot tea and warm cinnamon buns.
“Oh, Fred, you were right,” Ari said, taking another bite of a cinnamon bun. “This is delicious!”
Fred smiled indulgently at his aunt, trying to gauge her age. All three of the women were young and beautiful, but obviously the older two were married, based on their last names and the rings on their left hands. They couldn’t be that much older than his twenty-one years, at least he didn’t think they were.
Even more curious about his family’s past than he’d been before, he looked forward to hearing what they had to say.
He grinned, thinking about the special delivery the attorney had said was on its way. The last thing he expected the surprise to be was three aunts!
“Is there a hotel in town, Fred?” Bett asked after she took a sip of the steaming, fragrant tea Elsa served in a beautiful rose-painted teacup.
“No, there isn’t. We do have a nice boardinghouse. I’d invite you to stay at my place, but I only have one bedroom finished right now.”
“Please don’t concern yourself, dear nephew. You had no idea we were coming. The boardinghouse will be just fine,” Ari said, giving her two sisters a look. “Murtag can take us there and we’ll get settled in. Is there a place we might gather for dinner? Perhaps then we can answer the multitude of questions you are bound to have.”
“The boardinghouse is one option, or the restaurant in town, although they aren’t private. I reckon you could come out to my place. I could order meals from the restaurant or we could…”
“Eat here,” Elsa said, joining the conversation. “You’ll have all the privacy you need.”
“No, Elsa, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Fred said, frowning at the thought of Elsa going to more work on his behalf.
“You didn’t ask, I volunteered. Please, Fred, let me do this for you. You’ve been so kind and helpful to me today, it’s the least I can do.”
Before Fred could argue, Claire spoke up. “That would be most appreciated, Miss Lindstrom. What time shall we arrive?”
The Christmas Confection Page 12
