“Welcome to Granger House,” Luke said, offering his hand to Philamena. She had been so absorbed in looking at the house, she failed to notice Luke had walked around the buggy and was waiting for her. Although she was sorely tempted to duck her head and study her shoes, she forced herself to make eye contact.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she placed her hand in his and stepped to the ground.
Luke led her down the sidewalk, up the porch steps and to the front door. Turning the knob, he pushed the door wide and stood looking at Philamena for just a moment before sweeping her into his arms.
She let out a startled gasp, slipping her arms around Luke’s neck as he carried her across the threshold.
Setting her down inside the foyer, he grinned at his bride, flashing white teeth and deepening the dimple in his chin. “I didn’t want to break with tradition. Aren’t brides supposed to be carried across the threshold?”
“Yes, I suppose they are,” Philamena said, attempting to regain her equilibrium. She’d never been carried in a man’s arms before and the experience left her more than a little rattled. The most intense longing to be in Luke’s arms once again swept over her, throwing her further off kilter.
Looking around the entry, Philamena’s eyes grew wide at the luxurious surroundings. Beautiful, flocked wallpaper lined the walls of the entry. Gas lamps on the walls dispelled the November gloom, creating circles of light on gleaming hardwood floors, while warmth enveloped her.
“I’ve rambled around in this house by myself for a while and keep most of the rooms shut up, but if there is a room you’d like to open for use, feel free,” Luke said, taking her wrap and hanging it on a hall tree near the door. “There are just bedrooms on the second floor, so I keep it closed unless I’ve got company. I moved your things to a room near the kitchen.”
Philamena breathed a sigh mixed with relief and disappointment. Luke expected her to be a wife in name only.
From the entry, Luke took her elbow and guided her on a tour of the house. A formal parlor with a fire blazing merrily in the fireplace was an inviting haven done in cream, dark green and pale green tones. Across the hall a massive table, that would easily seat a dozen people and still have room to squeeze in a few more, filled the formal dining room. Expensive china gleamed from a cabinet built along one wall.
To the right of the front entry, a beautiful mahogany staircase curved up to the second floor. Instead of going upstairs, Luke led Philamena down the hall and into a large and well equipped kitchen. In addition to a brand-new stove, there was a sink with actual running water, and plenty of storage space with long counters and sturdy oak cupboards. In one corner sat something Luke called an ice box, meant to keep food cold. Philamena had never seen anything quite like it.
A smaller table, surrounded by four chairs, looked homey and inviting in its place beneath a window covered in crisp white curtains. Philamena could picture sitting there with Luke eating breakfast or having a quiet dinner.
“What do you think?” Luke asked, a smile lighting his eyes at Philamena’s obvious pleasure over the kitchen. “Think you can manage in here?”
“Oh, yes,” Philamena said, her eyes bright with excitement. She had no idea so many wonderful inventions for a kitchen existed.
Taking her through a door to the back hallway, he pointed to a bedroom close to the kitchen. A large bed, comfy rocking chair, dresser and chest of drawers filled the space. Luke opened a door to a closet where Philamena’s recently purchased gowns hung.
Running her hand across the back of the rocker, Philamena smiled. “Thank you, this is lovely.”
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here. If not, let me know and we can move you upstairs to one of the bedrooms,” Luke said. He studied the rich, mahogany hair piled on top of his bride’s head with curls cascading around her face in a soft and utterly feminine style. Her bright green eyes shone like emeralds as she stared at him from behind thick lashes.
If Luke wasn’t careful, he could find himself getting lost in eyes like that. He had no idea such a beautiful woman was hidden beneath the ugly brown dress and head covering when he agreed to take Philamena in payment for her father’s debt.
When he brought Philamena off the farm, she wouldn’t make eye contact or raise her face enough for him to fully see it. Now he admired her high cheekbones, strong chin and bright eyes. Being married to her might not be the hardship he had first envisioned if they could learn to be friends.
“I’ve never stayed anywhere so nice. I know it will be more than fine,” Philamena said, looking at the yellow cabbage roses on the wallpaper and soft cream coverlet on the bed. The room was welcoming and pretty.
“Let’s finish our tour then maybe you’d like to change,” Luke said, studying her dress and wondering how exactly she was going to get the buttons on the back undone. He wouldn’t mind volunteering to help.
Still reeling from the jolt that shot from his head to his toes when their lips touched earlier, he hadn’t expected to feel anything. Having kissed any number of girls over the years, he had never felt the sensations created by one kiss with Philamena.
Surprised and intrigued, Luke hoped to have more opportunity to fully research his reaction to Philamena’s lips and nearness. From the moment Chauncy placed her arm on his, her soft rose scent had taken over his senses and had him thinking of things only a husband should.
The problem, though, was his plan to be her husband in name only.
Trying to get his thoughts back on track, he cleared his throat and escorted her across the hall to the library. The dark walls and furniture gave it a masculine feel.
“Please feel welcome to select any book you like for reading,” Luke said, pointing to shelves lining one wall from floor to ceiling, filled with books. “You’ll find everything from Dickens to Dumas, so if you enjoy reading, you’ll probably like the library.”
Philamena loved to read, but never had the time or the books. The three books she owned on the farm were nearly worn to pieces from being read so many times. Nodding her head at Luke, she looked forward to hours spent by a warm fire losing herself in interesting adventures or imaginary tales.
Following him out of the library he stopped at a room that was a wonder to Philamena. Granger House had a bathroom complete with flushing toilet and bathtub. It was the most fantastic thing Philamena had ever seen in her life.
Shiny white surfaces gleamed at her and she turned an amazed smile to Luke.
“There are two more upstairs, as well,” he said, watching the look of wonder that crossed her face. He had grown up in luxury and so often took these conveniences for granted. He could only imagine what Philamena was thinking and realized how grateful he was for the opportunity to see his home through her eyes.
Taking her to the end of the hall, he pointed out his bedroom.
“I sleep here,” Luke said, briefly showing her the room decorated in shades of burgundy and navy blue.
“All I ask of you is to make sure I have hot meals every day,” Luke said, trying to ignore an insane desire to run his hands up and own the sleek sides of Philamena’s satin gown. “I have a part-time housekeeper who comes in three times a week to dust and do laundry. Unless you disagree, I have asked her to keep her current schedule. This house is awfully big for one person to handle all the cleaning and cooking alone. So if you don’t mind doing the cooking and the bulk of the cleaning, Mrs. Kellogg will take care of the laundry and help dust.”
“That will be fine,” Philamena said, overwhelmed with all she had seen and experienced this day - her wedding day. Grabbing onto her courage before it fled entirely, she turned to Luke and took his big warm hand in her own thin one. The contact made tingles race to her toes, but she straightened her spine and pressed on. “I want to thank you, Mr. Granger, for not only rescuing me from my father, but for marrying me, for providing for me so graciously. I will do my very best to make you a good wife and fulfill the debt owed you.”
Feeling a jo
lt shoot up his arm at her touch on his hand, Luke realized being close to Philamena was causing him to think any number of completely inappropriate ideas. Instead of releasing her fingers, he rubbed his thumb across her palm in slow circles.
“No need to call me Mr. Granger, Philamena. If you do that, I’ll have to call you Mrs. Granger and being so formal doesn’t seem like fun at all. You call me Luke.”
“Okay,” Philamena said, whooshing out the breath she’d been holding.
“As to the other, Chauncy is convinced I was meant to go out to your farm that day and rescue you. I am more than happy to provide for you because I’m getting something out of this deal as well.”
Philamena, who had been studying the toes of Luke’s shiny boots, turned her gaze to his face. “You are?”
“I certainly am. I’ve heard from Chauncy you are a top-notch cook and I have to tell you, I’m looking forward to getting three hot meals a day. After begging meals from the Dodds or eating at the restaurant, it will be a pure pleasure to be able to eat meals in my own home.”
Philamena smiled. “I’ll make sure you’re well fed.”
Luke laughed and walked Philamena back to her room. “I have no doubt you will. Abby sent a basket of food home with us for dinner tonight, so maybe you can start with breakfast tomorrow.”
Philamena nodded her head, thinking of what she could make special for Luke’s breakfast. She would have to examine the contents of the kitchen to see what provisions they had. From first glance, it looked well stocked.
As if reading her thoughts, Luke stopped at her doorway and leaned against the jamb. “I had Mrs. Kellogg stock the cupboards this week. I think you’ll find everything you need to get started cooking. Whenever you need something, just have George Bruner charge it to my account at the mercantile.
“But I wouldn’t feel right doing that,” Philamena said, uncomfortable with the notion of spending Luke’s money.
“I trust you,” Luke said, studying his new bride and liking what he saw more with every passing minute. “You won’t buy anything you don’t need, so please feel free to charge to the account. If there is a purchase you’d like to discuss, you can always stop by the bank and ask me.”
Again, Philamena nodded her head. As much as she liked, admired, and respected Luke, he still made her feel nervous. He was such a big, ruggedly handsome man.
When Philamena thought of bankers, she assumed they would be men with soft bodies and pale skin from sitting behind a desk all day. Luke was tall, solid, tan and muscular, like he was accustomed to hard physical labor done outdoors. She noticed the calluses on his fingers when their hands touched earlier. Whatever he did when we wasn’t at the bank must involve some sort of outdoor exertion.
Studying Luke through lowered lashes, Philamena realized there was much to learn about the man who was now her husband.
Luke smiled down at her and, keeping his stance relaxed, gently turned her around to look at the long row of buttons down the back of Philamena’s gown.
“You and Abby did a wonderful job sewing your gown. I don’t know when I’ve seen a more beautiful bride. I am wondering, though, how you propose changing your dress?” Luke asked, laughter filling his voice as he watched red creep up his bride’s neck. He knew her entire face was probably flushed. “The last time I saw this many buttons in one spot was when George’s boy Percy dumped a whole box of them across the floor at the mercantile.”
“I hadn’t given it any thought,” Philamena said, unable to hide the heat of embarrassment that filled her face and burned her neck.
Now that Luke mentioned it, she had no idea how to get out of the dress Abby had buttoned her into. Dozens of buttons marched down the back of her gown. Even twisting and turning, she would never be able to reach enough of them to get the dress undone. Maybe Luke could send for Abby, but then Philamena knew her friend was likely exhausted after all her assistance with the wedding.
“Let me help,” Luke said quietly and started to the task. Philamena went ramrod straight and Luke could feel her stiffen beneath his touch. As he undid the top few buttons, he admired the slender column of her neck and inhaled her intoxicating rose scent. He wished, not for the first time today, that Philamena was his wife in more than name only. Maybe in time it would be so.
First, he had to win her trust and, he hoped, her friendship. When her skin flushed with heat and she drew in a sharp breath, Luke stopped working on the buttons and placed a warm hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I promise I won’t do anything immoral, illegal, or compromising in any way. I will simply undo the buttons,” Luke said, trying to sound convincing.
Philamena nodded, so Luke continued. Although his big fingers had quite a time getting the buttons undone, they were spaced so close together Luke didn’t know how Philamena would ever reach them, so he kept on going. He was more than half done when the top of her gown fell slightly open and he could see her fine white chemise as well as the edging of her corset. What caught his attention, though, was Philamena’s scarred flesh.
Fumbling in his shocked state, he hurried to undo the rest of the buttons. Knowing it would embarrass his bride but unable to stop himself, he pulled open the back of her dress and gaped at the ribbons of scars across her shoulders that ran down into her chemise. Luke couldn’t imagine what had caused the scars or how painful it had been for the woman who stood trembling before him.
Placing a finger to one the scars, he traced the raised flesh and felt Philamena shudder.
“What happened,” he whispered, shocked by the suffering her body had borne. “How did this happen?”
Philamena stood with her head hanging down and drew in a ragged breath. “I… um… my…”
“Your father did this, didn’t he?” Luke asked, knowing as he said the words they were true. “Your father beat you?”
“Yes,” Philamena whispered. “He came home drunk one night a few years ago, had spent all our money. I was so tired of his drinking. I ran outside and before he could even get out of the saddle I said something about how ashamed Mama would have been of him. He yanked the bridle off the horse and used the reins to…”
Philamena couldn’t speak through her tears. She was mortified for Luke to discover her scars, ashamed her father had put them there.
“Oh, darlin’,” Luke said, turning her around and holding her. To his surprise, Philamena fit so perfectly there, nestled against his chest. She was a tall woman, much taller than any he’d been around before, but she felt so right in his arms. Holding her, he murmured soothing words, rocking back and forth until he felt her relax a bit.
“Philamena,” Luke said, tipping her chin up so she had to look at him. Her cheeks were red from her tears, her eyelashes wet, and her eyes luminous. He wanted so badly to kiss her again. To kiss away her hurt, her pain, her shame. “You didn’t do anything to deserve those scars or anything your father did to you. I want you to know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“I know,” Philamena whispered, dropping her eyes to stare at the tie he still wore knotted at his throat. “You’re a good man, like Chauncy.”
“Well, I’m not that good,” Luke said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “The pastor is in a class all by himself, but I try.”
A small smile started at the corner of his wife’s mouth, but didn’t quite make it to her eyes.
Luke rubbed her shoulders and set her back from him. Trying to preserve what little dignity she had left, he turned to leave the bedroom. “You go on and change and I’ll see about the horse. He probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him.”
Philamena nodded and waited to move until Luke closed the door behind him.
Luke stood in the hall a moment staring at the closed door then turned and walked out to the buggy, driving it around to the carriage house and backing it in. He took the horse to the barn and gave him an extra portion of food.
He should change his clothes and give ol’ Peter a good br
ushing, but he felt the need to be inside with Philamena.
It was taking every ounce of restraint to keep from saddling up Drake, riding out to the Booth farm and beating Alford to a bloody pulp. Luke had never had a violent bone in his body, but seeing what that man did to his daughter made Luke have all sorts of thoughts on giving Alford a dose of his own medicine.
What kind of man whipped a female? The same kind that slapped them, neglected them, half-starved them, degraded them, disrespected them, and used them as a bargain to pay a debt.
Maybe Chauncy was right. Maybe God had directed Luke out to the Booth farm last week. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, poor Philamena could be the newest member of the Red Lantern Saloon’s group of working girls.
Struggling with the protective feelings she stirred in him, Luke vowed again to do everything in his power to make her feel safe.
Chapter Four
Luke awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee filling his nose. For a moment he thought he must be dreaming, then he remembered he was married.
He had a wife.
One who could cook.
Smiling to himself, he got out of bed, made his way to the bathroom and emerged dressed and ready for the day.
Whistling, he sauntered into the kitchen where Philamena was busy preparing breakfast. Walking into the room, he was greeted with a shy smile.
“Good morning, wife,” Luke said, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his full lips.
“Good morning,” Philamena said, giving him a quick glance before turning her attention back to cooking pancakes. Luke poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. It was strong, black and very good.
“May I help you with anything?” he asked, placing the cup on the counter. He noticed she already had a place setting at the kitchen table. That she set the table in the kitchen rather than the dining room proved she was practical and sensible, two traits he greatly admired.
The Christmas Bargain Page 5
