Hometown Cinderella: Hometown CinderellaThe Inn at Hope Springs

by Patricia Davids

  Mara blinked at his words. She had been so worried that life would be difficult for him because it was so different from what he had known.

  “I’m glad.” Quietly, she closed their storybook. “What do you like best?”

  “Going to the Jakemans,” he said without hesitation.

  She had not expected such an unequivocal response after only one visit. Should she caution him against becoming a pest? But she didn’t want to squash his happiness. He’d had too little of it lately. He never spoke of his father—or of his death. Klaus had been like a stranger to his only child since almost the moment of Dietrich’s birth.

  Was he so starved for male companionship that he would latch on to the first male who showed him the least attention? Mara bit her lip, not sure what she should do.

  Mara set the book down on the bedside stand and tucked Dietrich in. “Good night, dear.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, which smelled of soap. Tenderness welled up in her heart and she thanked God for the son He’d given her. In the midst of every trial and tribulation in her life, Dietrich had been the bright spot, making the struggle worth it.

  “You want to get a good night’s sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Mama.” He didn’t protest having to go to sleep. His mind already seemed elsewhere, and Mara wondered if it was on the Jakeman farm. Or, had Mr. Jakeman just managed to tire her son out enough that he was already more asleep than awake?

  Mara turned down the kerosene lamp and stepped out of the room.

  Gideon rowed his skiff back to his beach with the incoming tide. He was satisfied with the good load of fish he’d caught on his lines. He stepped out into the shallow water and dragged the boat up on shore.

  As he began hauling the fish out, he heard a shout from the ridge above. Lizzie was waving. He waved back. Then he saw a dark-haired, smaller figure beside her and he smiled. Dietrich.

  The boy immediately began scrambling down the path to the beach.

  “Hello, Mr. Jakeman,” he said breathlessly. “What did you catch?”

  “Hello, Dietrich. Let’s see.” He made a point of looking into the bushel basket. “Mostly haddock and cod. But I got a nice halibut and some pollock.”

  “What are you going to do with them?”

  “Salt them in barrels, sell some of them and keep some for winter.”

  “May I help you?”

  Gideon gave the boy his full attention. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

  The boy kicked at the round stones of the beach. “She’s not home.”

  “Oh. Is anyone home?”

  “Paul.” The boy’s mouth turned downward. “And Mrs. Blackstone.”

  “Do any of them know you’re here?”

  He shook his head, still looking downward. “I walked home from school with Lizzie.”

  Gideon thought a moment, unsure what to do. “Where is your mother?”

  The boy looked up at him, his brown eyes puzzled. His skin was pale like his mother’s, with a very light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His hair was so straight and shiny it reminded Gideon of a sable paintbrush. “She had to go to town.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “Not for a while. She told me it wouldn’t be before supper.”

  “Did she walk?”

  The boy nodded.

  Gideon had the sudden desire to be able to offer her a ride home again, but knew almost as soon as the desire was formed that that would be impractical. But what he could do was look out for her son.

  He took a deep breath. “Very well. You can help me carry these baskets up to the yard and we’ll put them in the salt barrels.”

  Dietrich broke into a grin, which filled Gideon with a pleasure that expanded through his whole chest. He couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle the boy’s hair. “Come along,” he said in a gruff tone, to mask his deeper feelings. In that moment, he realized how much he missed not having had a son.

  He would give his life for his daughter—and no one could ask for a better helper and companion.

  But what if Elsie had lived and they had had more children, sons and daughters? He could picture them around the kitchen table filled with offspring.

  Well, it hadn’t been meant to be so he might as well erase the scene from his head. He had work to do, and was glad for the young companion he’d been sent this afternoon.

  Mara thought her legs would collapse under her when she finally climbed the last hill before their house. She was thirsty and warm despite the brisk fall air, her satchel felt as if it weighed fifty pounds instead of perhaps five and the soles of her feet ached.

  She transferred the bag containing her sheet music and a metronome from one hand to the other for the dozenth time. She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d gone into town, but the shopkeeper, true to her word, had the names of local women lined up for Mara. She had visited each one and all had wanted piano lessons for their sons and daughters. Very few had had lessons previously, but at least all the families had pianos in their homes.

  She sighed and began the trek down the last slope before the farmhouse. She’d already passed the Jakeman farmhouse. Smoke rose from its brick chimney but she had seen no one about.

  Finally, she arrived at her long driveway. She didn’t see Dietrich and hoped he was already inside. Entering the woodshed, she didn’t hear anyone. As soon as she set down her satchel, she turned first toward the barn in search of Dietrich.

  Paul was sweeping the stalls. “Hello, ma’am. I’ll be going home soon.”

  “Yes. Is Dietrich around?”

  “No, ma’am.” He paused and scratched his head. “Haven’t seen him all afternoon.”

  Her heart began to thump. “He wasn’t with you?”

  He shook his head. “Want me to look for him before I head home?”

  She debated, but decided against it. His own family expected him and he was probably hungry. “No, I shall do so as soon as I ask Mrs. Blackstone.”

  When she reentered the kitchen, she found Carina at the table, slicing bread. “There you are at last. What kept you so long?”

  Mara untied the ribbons of her bonnet. “I had four families to visit and then the walk home.”

  Carina raised an eyebrow. “Four? Indeed. Soon you’ll be making more money than your father left me to fend with.”

  Wondering what her stepmother meant by the observation, she decided it was best to change the subject. “Has Dietrich come in yet?”

  Carina made an unpleasant sound. “That boy? The way he runs wild, he could be all the way to Timbuktu.”

  Mara gripped her hands together to keep back a sharp retort. “Did he return from school?”

  Carina pursed her lips. “I don’t believe so.”

  Mara began retying her bonnet. “I’m going to take a turn about the yard and see if I can find him. I shall be right back to fix supper.”

  Carina merely sniffed.

  Ignoring her tired feet, Mara began calling Dietrich’s name as soon as she reached the backyard. She walked past the kitchen garden and toward the apple orchard.

  She looked in all the places she knew Dietrich liked to go—up in an oak tree, down by the brook, crossing the road and clambering down the path to the beach. But there was no sign of Dietrich.

  Trying to keep her alarm in check, she glanced down the coastline, praying under her breath for direction. She thought about Dietrich’s excitement over the kittens at the Jakemans’. But she had seen no sign of him there. Besides, could he have gone off without telling anyone? The sun had set and Mara’s stomach was grumbling, but she hitched up her skirts and made her way up the beach path toward the road.

  A quarter of an hour later, she w
as once more approaching the Jakemans’ place.

  Golden light shone from a front window. She opened the gate of the white picket fence, bringing the immediate bark of a dog.

  A second later, a large, shaggy black dog came bounding over to her.

  “Down, boy,” she said, looking around, hoping to see someone come to her aid. “Hello!” she called out.

  Both Mr. Jakeman and Dietrich emerged from the open barn door.

  “Samson, down!”

  At the stern command, the dog ran back to his master. Dietrich hurried to his mother. “Mama, come look at the kittens. Did you ask Mrs. Blackstone if I could bring one home?”

  “I didn’t have a chance yet.” It had completely slipped her mind, if truth be told. She looked past her son to Mr. Jakeman, who was making his way more slowly toward her, the dog following at his heels.

  Mr. Jakeman wore a vest over a collarless white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his forearms, as if he didn’t feel the cold night air. He inclined his head at her. “Good evening, ma’am. Hope Samson didn’t startle you.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Jakeman. No, that’s all right. I just came looking for Dietrich.”

  The dog sniffed at her hand.

  Mr. Jakeman glanced at Dietrich. “See why it’s important for you to let someone know where you’re going?”

  Dietrich hung his head.

  Mara put her hand gently on his shoulder. “Didn’t you tell anyone you were coming here?”

  Dietrich shook his head.

  “I asked him as soon as he showed up. I would have sent him home sooner, but somehow the time got away from us. I’m sorry about that, ma’am.”

  Her anger and worry dissipated. She was thankful that Dietrich was safe and in good company. “What have you two been up to?”

  Dietrich tugged on her skirt. “Mr. Jakeman let me help him salt fish and feed the sow and the chickens and the turkeys—and pet the kittens. Come on, Mama, and see them.”

  Mr. Jakeman chuckled and she couldn’t help but smile at him. “I guess you’d better come along.” He gestured for her to go ahead of him, keeping a firm hand on his dog.

  Mara crouched beside Dietrich at a box lined with an old quilt. A large, dark gray cat with thick white fur around her neck stared at her, a half dozen kittens nursing at her.

  “What a fine litter you have,” Mara crooned.

  Dietrich touched one of the kittens, darker than the others. “This is the one I want. Please, may I have him?”

  “What a fuzzy little fellow.” She reached out and barely touched the silky fur. “I don’t know yet, sweetheart.”

  Finally, she rose. “You have a fine cat there.”

  “It’s a Maine coon. No hurry deciding about the kittens. They’re too young to leave their mother yet.”

  “Thank you.” She moved aside. “Well, we’d best be off. It’s been a long day and I still need to get his supper. Thank you so much for your patience.”

  “Did you walk over?” Mr. Jakeman’s eyes scanned her features and she wondered how she appeared—windblown and haggard, no doubt.

  “Yes, I just dashed back out as soon as I arrived home.”

  He frowned, bringing his reddish-brown eyebrows close together. “You just came back from town?”

  She smiled ruefully. “Yes.”

  “I can give you a ride back home.”

  She waved a hand. “Oh, no! It’s not a long walk—not like going to town.”

  He said nothing more but followed her back outside.

  Dietrich continued kneeling beside the kittens. “Come along, dear. I have a busy day tomorrow. Putting up the cranberries you were so thoughtful to send us yesterday,” she added with a shy smile at Mr. Jakeman.

  “I didn’t mean to make more work for you.”

  Her smile deepened at his look of contrition. “I appreciate the gift.”

  At that moment, Lizzie emerged from the house, wiping her hands on an apron. “Hello, Mrs. Keller!”

  Mara smiled with pleasure at the girl. “Hello, Lizzie. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “I saw you through the window and wanted to say hello. I would’a brought Dietrich home if I’d a known you’d have to come for him.”

  “That’s all right. You’re probably getting supper, which is what I need to be doing right now.”

  Lizzie’s cheeks filled with color and she shot a glance at her father. “That’s what I come out for—that is, to ask if you’d like to stay for supper with us.”

  Dietrich pulled at his mother’s skirt. “May we, Mama?”

  Mara felt her own cheeks grow warm. “Oh, no, I mean, I didn’t come for—” At the look of disappointment in the girl’s eyes, her heart constricted. She didn’t want Lizzie to feel she was rejecting her, but she knew she had to return home. Carina would expect her.

  Before she could think what to say, Mr. Jakeman interjected, “Another time, perhaps.”

  She smiled at him gratefully. He seemed to understand. “Yes,” she breathed out, “that would be lovely.”

  Dietrich kicked at the hay in the barnyard.

  “Lizzie, maybe you could go over after school and help Mrs. Keller with those cranberries.”

  Lizzie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, could I?” Her glance went from her father’s to Mara’s. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

  “Of course not, but I don’t mean for you to come and just do work.”

  “It won’t seem like work.”

  “Well, if you’re sure…”

  Lizzie nodded vigorously. “But please wait for me. I’ll run over just as school lets out.” She smiled. “I can bring Dietrich home for you.”

  “Very well. That would be kind of you.”

  Dietrich walked away from her. “I’m going to say goodbye to Samson.”

  “We have to go, Dietrich.” But Dietrich bent over the dog and petted his black head.

  Mr. Jakeman cleared his throat. “Thanks for the cake. It was delicious.”

  Mara found herself blushing, and quickly turned away, taking Dietrich’s hand before he found something new to interest him. “Think nothing of it. Well, good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lizzie, if you are sure you can spare the time.” As she spoke, she sent a questioning look to both father and daughter.

  Mr. Jakeman nodded slowly, saying softly, “It’ll be good for her.”

  She stood regarding him a moment longer, trying to decipher his expression. It seemed a mixture of gratitude, kindness and concern. She spun on her heel before she could express something foolish with her own glance.

  Chapter Six

  Lizzie showed up at the kitchen door promptly the next afternoon, giggling and talking with Dietrich. Mara welcomed them inside, offering them milk and molasses cookies.

  “How was school?” she asked as they washed up at the sink.

  “Boring!”

  “Fine!” came two simultaneous answers. Lizzie punched Dietrich lightly on the arm. “It was not boring. Just because you got in trouble for fidgeting so much at your desk and then pinching Sally’s arm.”

  Mara frowned at her son. “What’s this about?”

  Dietrich started scrubbing his hands hard.

  Lizzie wiped her hands on the towel and smiled. “Nothing the other boys don’t do. Don’t worry, Miss Higgins knows how to keep them under control.”

  “We’ll talk about this later, Dietrich.”

  As they sat at the table eating their cookies and milk, Mara headed to the woodshed. “Let me ask Paul if he’d care for a snack.”

  She came back a few moments later with the tall young man in tow. He wiped his feet on the doormat before stepping inside.

  �
�Come, sit down with the children for a few minutes.” As soon as Mara said the words, she knew she’d erred. Lizzie’s face had taken on the shade of the crimson maple leaves littering the front yard.

  She’d just taken a bite out of the large, soft cookie and at the sight of the young man coming up behind Mara, the girl whipped the cookie away from her mouth and scrubbed at her lips with her other hand.

  To draw attention away from her, Mara ushered the boy toward the sink. “Here, wash the dirt off and then have some of my freshly baked cookies.”

  “Uh, thanks, ma’am.” He shuffled his tall frame over to where Mara indicated.

  Mara hid a smile at the awkwardness of youth as she bustled about getting a plate and napkin and pouring out a glass of milk from the pitcher, glad that Carina was out.

  Paul sat at the opposite end of the table from Lizzie. Lizzie didn’t look at him, her fingers crumbling an edge of the cookie on her plate.

  “So, you got a whuppin’ today at school, half-pint.” Paul leaned toward Dietrich, ruffling his hair with his large, work-roughened hand.

  Dietrich swung his head out of Paul’s way. Mara hesitated, not wanting to interfere every time Dietrich needed defending. She knew it was important to let him fight his own battles. Nevertheless, her fingers curled into her palms as she forced a smile to her lips.

  “Do you miss school, Paul?”

  Paul blinked his hazel eyes at her. “School? Uh, no, ma’am.”

  A snigger issued from Lizzie’s mouth but was quickly stifled by her hand.

  Paul shot her a glance. “What? As if you’re such a smarty-pants. You’ll probably have to repeat the year.”

  Her color rose again, her nostrils flaring. “Will not! I’m smarter than you by a long shot.”

  “Yeah, teacher’s pet.”

  To intervene without appearing to, Mara sat across from Dietrich. “Are you finishing your studies this year, Lizzie?”

  Lizzie bobbed her head. “I graduate from grammar school at the end of this year.”

  Mara turned to Paul. “When did you finish?”

  “Last year.”