The Christmas Bargain

by Shanna Hatfield

  “No buts except yours going back downstairs,” Luke said, taking her hand and pulling her down the big staircase at a trot. Gathering the last load of Filly’s clothes in his arms he made another trip upstairs while she put all her keepsakes in the trunk Luke had given her.

  Placing the Christmas quilt on top she carried it to the master bedroom, setting it down on the floor of the closet. She’d sort her treasures out later, when she wasn’t so rushed.

  Hurrying back downstairs, she grabbed a large basket, put all their personal toiletries in it then handed it to Luke to run up to the master bath while she cleaned the guest bath they had shared.

  When it was sparkling, she added a few festive touches and declared it ready for company.

  Moving on to the room that had been hers, she stripped the bed and remade it, giving it a quick airing and glanced around to make sure nothing of hers had been left behind. Satisfied Luke had taken all of her belongings upstairs, she blocked from her mind the thought of what would happen later, when they were forced to share the room for the night.

  By this time, Mrs. Kellogg had returned with Percy running along behind her, pulling a little wagon loaded with supplies. While Filly put away the purchases and helped Mrs. Kellogg finish the laundry, Luke started a cheery fire in the parlor and library, swept off the front porch and paid Percy an entire dollar to hurriedly wipe the outside of the windows on the ground level.

  Checking his watch, Luke hustled back to the kitchen to find Filly and Mrs. Kellogg discussing menu ideas while folding the laundry that was dry. A small room located over the top of the boiler served as a perfect place to hang wet clothes in the winter since the heat from the boiler came up through the floor and warmed the space.

  “Does your mother have any particular favorite foods,” Filly asked as Luke went to the ice box and poured himself a glass of milk. Snatching a couple of cookies from the jar on the counter, he sat down for a much needed break.

  “She likes chicken and is quite partial to Boston cream pie,” Luke said, taking a huge bite of the cookie Filly called jumbles. Luke didn’t care what they were called. He just knew the mix of nutmeg and cinnamon in the buttery cookie was pretty tasty.

  “Boston cream pie?” Filly said, snatching a cookbook from a shelf and wildly flipping through it. “Here we go. It looks like we have the ingredients as long as we’ve got the time.”

  Looking at Luke she raised an eyebrow his direction. “Do we have time? How are they arriving? What time will they be here?”

  “The telegram said they’ll arrive on this afternoon’s stage, which, if it arrives on time, will be here around six. That gives us nearly three hours to finish getting ready.”

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Filly started setting out ingredients to make the dessert. Turning to Luke, she asked him to run out to the Leonard place and see if he could get a couple of fresh chickens. The Leonard family supplied not only their milk and eggs, but also brought in plucked chickens once a week, but their delivery day wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, when they would bring the turkey Filly had ordered for Christmas.

  With Luke tracking down chickens, Mrs. Kellogg helped Filly air the dining room and place a freshly pressed cloth on the table. They assembled a simple arrangement with red candles and greens in the center of the table then set it with the china from the built-in cupboard.

  Filly hadn’t spent any time in the dining room, other than to dust, and admired the gleam of the porcelain dishes along with the sparkling shine from the silverware. Carefully arranging crystal goblets at each place setting, Filly was pleased at how nice the table looked when they finished.

  Returning to the kitchen, Mrs. Kellogg helped her make the filling for the Boston cream pie as well as the icing then the kind lady bundled up and wished Filly luck with her in-laws. Before she hurried out the door, Filly slipped a five-dollar gold piece into her gloved hand with a hug and thanks for all her extra help.

  Patting her cheek, Mrs. Kellogg smiled. “You never, know, dearie, what a blessing this unexpected visit might turn out to be.”

  Not taking time to decipher the meaning of that statement, Filly instead punched down the bread she had set to rise and formed the dough into rolls. Placing the pan, covered with a clean towel, on the back of the stove to rise again, she moved jars around on the pantry shelves looking through their canned vegetables and selected corn to go with the chicken. She also gathered up a handful of apples, deciding to fry them to go along with the meal.

  As her nerves became more frazzled with the ticking of the clock, Filly was relieved when Luke hurried in the door with two chickens, plucked, dressed and ready for the oven. Rinsing them off, Filly salted and seasoned them before setting them into a roaster and shoving the pan into the oven.

  Looking around, she tidied up the kitchen while Luke made another pass through the house, trying to look as critically at everything as his mother would.

  Filly was a competent housekeeper and he couldn’t find anything out of place, anything that needed attention. Even running his finger along the top of the door-sill, he found not a trace of dust.

  Returning to the kitchen, Filly looked worried and anxious. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her on the tip of the nose.

  “All will be well, wife. My dad is going to say you are the best thing that ever happened to me,” Luke said, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a gesture of comfort. Instead, his touch was arousing her senses and creating heightened levels of anxiety on her part.

  “What about your mother? What will she say?” Filly looked at him, unasked questions filling her eyes.

  “I suppose I should warn you that my mother is not the most pleasant person to be around. She is quite often critical and always demanding. So please, Filly, please do not take anything she says to heart. She speaks without thinking and doesn’t usually care how her words affect others,” Luke cautioned, hoping his mother wouldn’t frighten Filly away. “Please ignore her as much as you can. No matter what she might say, don’t let it bother you.”

  “That makes me feel so much better about making a good impression on your mother,” Filly said sarcastically, her head resting against Luke’s chest. The steady beat of his heart comforted her to some degree.

  She could feel Luke chuckle and raised her head to his with a crooked smile. “This should be quite an interesting holiday, to say the least.”

  “I’m sorry, darlin’. I should have told them we are married, should have warned you about my mother, should have packed you up and taken you on a trip so we wouldn’t be home,” Luke said with a merry twinkle in his eye. “I guess it’s a little late now to escape.”

  “Just slightly,” Filly agreed.

  Glancing at the clock on the wall, Luke pushed Filly back and turned her toward the hallway. “You better run upstairs and change. Mother will expect us both to be dressed for dinner when she arrives.”

  Filly looked at Luke, bewildered. “I have no idea what to wear. What would she find acceptable?”

  Luke took her hand and they hurried up to the master bedroom, rifling through her gowns. Pulling out a soft green dress, highlighted by thick ecru lace at the collar, cuffs and hemline, Luke laid it on the bed. “This will work just fine. If you have any questions about what to wear while my mother is here, ask Abby. She’ll prove to be a much better fashion advisor than me. I think you look beautiful in anything and I’m sure you’d look even better in nothing.”

  Filly’s head snapped up, her eyes wide in shock as heat filled her face. What had gotten into Luke to say such a thing? It was positively…indecent.

  “Luke…I…gracious, you shouldn’t talk like that,” Filly whispered, feeling feverish and rattled by Luke’s words.

  “I’m just expressing my opinion,” Luke said, offering her a wicked grin before disappearing into the bathroom. Hearing water running in the tub, Filly watched as Luke came back out drying his hand on a towel. “Go ahead and take a bath. It will make you feel calmer and refre
shed before the storm that is my mother hits. I’ll keep an eye on things in the kitchen until you come back down.”

  Filly nodded her head and watched Luke go out the door, closing it behind him with a wink. The man was going to push her over the edge of reason if he kept behaving like that. Sagging down on the edge of the unbelievably large bed, she said a brief prayer before hurrying into the bathroom, removing her clothes and climbing into the tub.

  Luke was right. The warm water coupled with her rose scented soap did relax her and made her feel refreshed. Not lingering long in the tub, Filly quickly dried and put on clean clothing.

  Sitting before the large oval dressing mirror, she took down her hair, brushed it and then put it back up, leaving tendrils of curls to escape on her neck and around her face. Drawing a deep breath, Filly hurried back to the kitchen, praying with each step she took down the stairs.

  As calm as you please, Luke sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper. Sweeping into the room and pulling the fullest apron she had over her head, Filly stopped a moment to stare at her husband. Feeling her gaze on him, he slowly folded the paper and placed it on the table.

  “Yes?” Luke asked, as he stood to his feet. He entertained the notion of locking the doors and pretending not to be home when his parents arrived. As beautiful as Filly looked, he wasn’t sure he could simultaneously keep up his guard around his mother and keep his hands off his wife.

  “I just don’t know how you can be so calm,” Filly said, checking the progress of the rising rolls.

  “We’re as ready for my mother as we can possibly be,” Luke said, waving his hand around the kitchen for emphasis. “I don’t see any need to fret over what may or may not happen, so we might as well relax and enjoy the last bit of quiet we’ll have until they leave.”

  Filly felt Luke’s warmth behind her as she stood at the sink, rinsing off apples. His breath on her neck made tingles race up and down her spine. When he moved aside a curl and placed a kiss behind her ear, she thought her knees would buckle.

  “You look lovely,” Luke whispered, kissing her jaw and working his way around to her lips.

  She spun around and laced her arms around his neck, meeting his passion head on. Before they both lost their good sense, Filly rubbed her hand across his stubbly cheek and patted it.

  “Maybe you should shave before your mother arrives,” she suggested, leaning back from Luke.

  Running his hand up and down his cheek, he nodded, gave Filly a quick kiss and ran for the stairs. Returning to the kitchen twenty minutes later, Luke’s hair was still damp on the ends from his bath and his cheeks were taut and smelled of his spicy aftershave. He was wearing a clean suit, his starched white shirt standing in stark contrast to his tanned face. He had on a pair of polished cowboy boots, their toes gleaming in the gaslight of the kitchen.

  “I think I’ll run by the bank to check in with Harlan and close up before the stage arrives,” Luke said, putting on his coat and settling his Stetson on his head.

  “If you have time, could you stop by the parsonage and let Abby know why I didn’t come by this afternoon,” Filly asked, as she strained juice from two jars of raspberries, then mixed the juice with vinegar and set it aside. She put the jars of drained berries into the ice box to chill. “You might let her know I may be a bit preoccupied for the next few days.”

  Grasping the door knob in his hand, Luke smiled. “I’ll talk to Abby and let her know to plan on you at some point tomorrow. You’ll need a break from Mother.” With that, he hurried out the door.

  Filly’s nerves were about to get the best of her. How could she possibly hope to impress Mrs. Granger? From everything Luke said, she was particular to a fault and nothing pleased her.

  Taking a deep breath and straightening her spine, Filly decided right then and there to try to win over Luke’s mother. Even if she didn’t, at least she would know she tried.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Standing with one boot heel resting against a pile of snow and his forearms leaning on a hitching post, Luke waited for the stage to arrive. Although it was barely above freezing outside, Luke needed the bracing air to help clear his head.

  On one hand, the arrival of his parents had forced Filly into his bedroom and hopefully, into his bed. He couldn’t put into words how happy he was about that. On the other hand, his mother was going to devour Filly, chew her up, and spit her out. Quite likely before they even managed to sit down to dinner.

  Wishing he had told his parents he was married, he could have said he and Filly were newlyweds desperately in love and wanted to spend this first Christmas alone. Even if he was the only one in love, he had been looking forward to the holiday with as much anticipation and excitement as any eight-year-old would. He could hardly wait to give Filly her gifts - things he knew would make her smile. Gifts his mother would think ridiculous and silly.

  He wasn’t going to change his plans now, regardless of what his mother may think. Granger House was his home, bought and paid for, as was the bank and the land. His mother had no right to arrive and make demands and he absolutely refused to let her treat Filly disrespectfully.

  As long as they could keep Filly’s past in the past, Luke thought they might be able to make it through the visit unscathed.

  Shifting his foot, Luke smiled as he recalled the look that flew across Filly’s face when she realized they would be sharing a bedroom. Thinking about the way her cheeks turned red and her eyes nearly popped out of her head at his comment about seeing her without her clothes on, he chuckled.

  Keeping his desire for his wife on a tight rein was going to be difficult at best in their present predicament, but he’d worry about it later. He realized he should have opened the radiator in the bedroom or built a fire in the small fireplace. Filly would likely freeze in there tonight if some heat wasn’t available. Thinking about ways to keep her warm made his own face feel hot and his insides clench.

  Glancing down the street, illuminated by street lamps, he looked at the bright bows and green boughs adorning many of the businesses. Filly brought garlands and boughs to the bank and decorated the windows as well as hanging wreaths of greens and holly on the doors. Harlan commented on how much he enjoyed the Christmas decorations and the customers seemed to appreciate the festive touches, too.

  Luke was mighty glad to have Harlan in his employ. Although he was barely twenty, Harlan was a wonder with numbers and a dedicated employee Luke could trust implicitly.

  Rousing from his thoughts, Luke saw the stage rolling into town. Taking a deep, calming breath, he vowed to not let his mother ruffle his feathers, or pluck Filly’s.

  Rattling to a stop, Luke waited as a couple with three children climbed down from the stage, followed by two cowboys and what appeared to be a traveling salesman. Then a huge hat with a large, gaudy lavender feather preceded his mother’s blond head out the door. Her petite form was swathed in a lavender traveling suit with a matching coat. Stepping up to give her a hand, she beamed him a smile that showed off her perfect row of dainty white teeth and sparkling blue eyes.

  “Mother, what a surprise,” Luke said as he gave her a hug, then reached out to shake his father’s hand after he stepped to the ground. “I didn’t receive your telegram until this morning.”

  “Modern communication,” his mother mused, shaking her head. “It just can’t be trusted at all. I told your father I should write you a letter detailing our plans. He assured me the telegram was faster and better.”

  Assuming his mother would not travel light, Luke brought the sleigh around and fastened her trunk to the back, dropping two traveling cases near her feet on the floor.

  “My gracious, but this backwater town doesn’t change much, does it?” Dora Granger said, studying the streets of Hardman. She missed the fact that it boasted its best holiday finery.

  “Looks good to me,” Greg Granger said, looking around the town appreciatively. How he missed the clean air, the small town atmosphere, the friendly neighbors who liv
ed in the Hardman community. He’d move back in a minute if his precious Dora didn’t hate it here so vehemently.

  Looking back over his shoulder, Luke grinned at his dad. Although Luke was never close to his mother, he and his father had always shared a special bond. Now that he was older, his dad seemed more like a confidant and friend than a parent.

  Luke acknowledged he should have at least sent his father a telegram saying he was married right after the wedding. His dad would have understood, even if his mother never would.

  It was far too late to worry about it now.

  Driving slowly through town, he cleared his throat and took a deep breath before giving them both quite a shock.

  “Before we get to the house, there is something you both need to know,” Luke said, trying not to squirm in his seat.

  “What’s that, dear?” his mother asked politely.

  “I may have neglected to tell you something rather important,” Luke said, trying to keep from just blurting out his news.

  “Go on,” his father urged. “What is it, son?”

  “I’m married,” Luke said flatly, waiting for his mother to say something.

  The explosion was not long in coming. First he felt her swat his shoulder with her fur muff before she hissed, “You are what?”

  “Married, Dora, dear. The boy said he was married,” Greg said, a smile in his voice. Luke turned just enough to see his father wink at him. “Tell us about this wife of yours, son.”

  “She is lovely, intelligent, witty, artistic, kind, generous, and a very good cook,” Luke said, running through the short list of Filly’s attributes.

  “And her name, Luke. What is her name?” his mother grated out, clearly irritated at this bit of news. Her plan to marry Luke off to the daughter of one of her snooty society friends was never going to happen now.

  “Filly,” Luke said quietly.

  “I’m sure I heard you incorrectly,” Dora said so coolly, Luke thought he felt icicles piercing his back. “What is her name?”