Love in Independence (Holiday Mail Order Brides)

by Morgan, Kit

  He gave her a devilish smile. “Satisfaction.”

  Winnie laughed, and realized she was becoming more comfortable with him. He had an easy-going nature and, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was flirting. But would he do such a thing? Wasn’t it too early for that? Mail-order brides married immediately; there wasn’t time for flirting, or tiny gestures of interest. But … he didn’t know that’s what she was, and she didn’t know anything about courtship … oh, dear.

  They finished their ice cream and Winnie was relieved when he didn’t delve any further into why she’d come to Independence. The information she gave him must have been enough to satisfy his curiosity. She, however, found her own curiosity peaked. She wanted to know more about him, like how long he’d been a widower. Did he have any family back in Chicago? If not, where were they? What were his goals? Did he always want to work in the church?

  But she couldn’t bring herself to ask him; the companionable silence they now shared was too delightful. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she expected, considering they were just getting to know one another. On the contrary, she found herself becoming quite relaxed the more time she spent with him.

  He paid for their lunch, and they left, strolling down the boardwalk until they came to a small bookstore. “Would you like to go inside?”

  Winnie felt her stomach do a little flip. “Yes.” She loved books.

  He smiled and opened the door for her. She preceded him into the little shop, and breathed in the scent of leather, paper, and ink. The bookshop owner sat behind a desk, writing. He looked up. “Hello Pastor Luke! How goes your day?”

  “Hello, Professor. Fine, and yours?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” He glanced at Winnie. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Miss Winnie Longfellow. She’s my new assistant.”

  “Assistant, you say? Since when do you need an assistant?”

  “Since now. I’ve got too much to do between heading the Fourth of July celebration and my regular duties. Apparently it showed. This young lady came to help the Smythes, but is also helping me.”

  The Professor studied Winnie. “I heard the Smythes needed help. Er, you aren’t here to help Mr. Smythe, are you?”

  “No,” Winnie said with a shake of her head.

  The Professor grinned. “Glad to hear it. I can’t picture a pretty young woman like you handling cadavers. Most unusual, but I’ve heard it’s been done.”

  Winnie grimaced. “I can’t picture it, either.”

  “What’s new in the shop?” asked Luke, changing the subject.

  “I got something from that Twain fellow you asked about.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “A book called, ‘The Innocents Abroad’. You interested?”

  “You know I am, you old codger! Hand it over.” The Professor, a tall man with greying hair and twinkling blue eyes, stood and went over to a shelf next to his desk. Luke grinned as the man turned and handed him the book. “I love Mark Twain’s stories,” he told Winnie.

  “I’ve heard of him, but have never read any of them.”

  He looked at her, aghast. “Never?”

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  He stared at the professor in shock. “We must remedy this, immediately!”

  The Professor shook his head and sat. “That’s my only copy.”

  “I’ll take it,” Luke said, and handed her the book.

  “But, Pastor Luke …”

  “Just Luke, and you can read it first. I’m loaning it to you.”

  “When is she going to have time?” asked the Professor. “Sounds like you’re going to be busy.”

  “I’ll give her a break now and again.” He looked at her. “What do you say? Would you like to read it first?”

  She took the book and examined the cover, then opened it and leafed through the pages. “That would be lovely, thank you.” He gave her a warm smile. It caught the interest of the Professor, who studied Luke with a puckered expression that made Winnie giggle.

  “What?” Luke asked as his eyes flicked between the two.

  “Nothing,” said the Professor. “But since she’s going to read it first, maybe you’d like something to read in the meantime?”

  “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

  The Professor grinned. “I have just the thing. Wait right here.” He got up again, and disappeared into the back of the store.

  “What a nice shop, I had no idea it was here,” Winnie said. “I love to read.”

  “I spend a lot of time in here, and Professor Hamilton is excellent at suggesting what I should read next. No doubt he sent for that book, just for me. He knows what I like.”

  “Why do you call him Professor? Was he a teacher?”

  “Yes, in New York. Came out west five years ago and opened this little shop. Like us, he got tired of things back east and wanted a simpler life. So, here he is.”

  “What was he a professor of?”

  Luke laughed. “Literature; what else?”

  A delicious chill went up her spine at his mirth, and she found herself gazing at him in an appreciative manner. He was handsome, he was fun, and he loved to read. It was all Winnie could do to keep from sighing.

  “Here we are,” said the Professor as he came back, a small book in his hand. He offered it to Luke with a wide grin.

  “What is it?” Luke asked as he took it. The Professor rocked toe to heel a few times, his grin still plastered on his face, and said nothing. Luke read the title. “Elizabeth Barrett Browning? But this is a book of love poems …”

  The Professor’s grin broadened. “You’ll like them, I’m sure.” He returned to his chair behind the desk. “No charge.”

  Luke eyed him. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Luke sighed, put a hand on Winnie’s back, and steered her toward the door. “Good afternoon, Professor. It’s always a pleasure.”

  The Professor chuckled at their departure, but nothing more. Winnie shivered at the feel of Luke’s warm hand at the small of her back, and let him escort her from the shop. Once outside, he looked at the book of poetry, and rolled his eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “The Professor is a hopeless romantic.”

  She looked at the book, then at him. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Romance. When do I have time for romance?”

  Her heart sank at his words. “I should think a man intent on winning the affections of a woman would make time.”

  He stared at her. “Well said.” He motioned to the street that led back to the church. “Shall we?”

  She squared her shoulders and, with her chin up, preceded him without looking back.

  * * *

  Luke watched Winnie walk a few paces in front of him, her back stiff. What did he say? He could tell she was mad about something. She couldn’t possibly be upset about his last remark, could she? But then again, women were funny when it came to affairs of the heart. They wanted to be romanced, wooed, pursued, and captured. Heck, he’d preached on it enough back in Chicago to know. He’d served two years at a church in the Chicago slums, and often saw children born out of wedlock, the parents abandoning the children to orphanages or the streets themselves. Where was the romance in that? Had his last two years in the city jaded him? Did he think romance non-existent?

  He stared at Winnie’s pretty backside as she walked on, and wondered what made the heart of a woman, such as his new assistant’s, go agog with … hmm … with what? Love? Good Lord; when had he become so daft?

  “Winnie …”

  She stopped up short and waited for him to catch up. He did, and looked at her. “I …” Oh, for crying out loud; now what? “I totally agree.”

  She opened her mouth, shut it, and eyed him.

  “With what you said earlier. A man would make time.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, seems logical, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded and, again putting
his hand on her back, urged her forward again. They spent the rest of the afternoon organizing the church office, and the next day, too (after the Fourth of July planning meeting), until it was time for him to make his rounds of visits to the community. “Are you needed at the Smythes’ this afternoon?” he asked as he got up from his desk and stretched.

  “No, not that I know of. Why?”

  “Would you like to accompany me to the Edmonson farm? They have a new baby, and Mrs. Edmonson is worn to a frazzle. Two of the children are sick.”

  “What? Why, that’s terrible. Of course I’ll go.”

  “Good, I could use the help.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Mr. Edmonson doesn’t come in from the fields until late, and with the sick children, Mrs. Edmonson has her hands full. The first time I went out to their place, she was under the weather and almost due, so I made supper for them. She told me to come back anytime.”

  “You … cooked?”

  “I’ll have you know, I make a very good pot of beans and a half-decent stew. Don’t ask for anything else, though.”

  She laughed. “Of course I’ll help. And I excel at soup.”

  “That gives Mrs. Edmondson three delicacies to choose from. This is her lucky day!”

  Winnie laughed as she stood. “I thought you prayed for them, and then moved on to the next name on your list.”

  “Far from it; I do whatever I can to help in the short time I’m there.”

  “Who else goes to help?”

  “No one.”

  She stared at him in shock. “Why not?”

  “Usually because they don’t know any thing’s wrong. Folks here are proud, and don’t like asking for help. It’s not so bad if I do it; sort of goes with the whole preacher thing.”

  “How do you know when they’re in trouble?”

  “I can tell something’s wrong by the simple fact that they don’t show up in church. The last time Mrs. Edmonson didn’t show up, which was a couple of Sundays ago, she’d just had the baby. Mr. Edmonson came last Sunday, and told me the house was in chaos.”

  “Oh dear, what should I expect?”

  “Work, and lots of it; but between the two of us, we’ll get it done. You sure you’re up to it?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, let’s go.” They left the church and headed down the road out of town. He brought a small Bible and a sack of candies he’d purchased from the mercantile the night before. He knew the candy would serve them well once they got to the farm. The older children could be counted on to handle a few things, but the younger ones often needed coaxing.

  Once they reached the farm, it was evident that he’d guessed right. Laundry was strewn around the yard; the two youngest children, a boy and a girl, were running naked around a tree; and a loose horse galloped out of the barn.

  “Oh, my goodness!” Winnie cried. She raced for the toddlers and scooped them up just as the horse slowed to a trot and came upon them. It stopped, put its head down, and began to munch the tender grass near the base of the tree. Winnie spun to Luke. “What happened here?”

  He shrugged, and then held his arms out wide. “Welcome to the Edmonson farm.”

  She gasped as she looked around. “Where are the other children?”

  “Inside the house would be my guess. C’mon; let’s get these two dressed.”

  “Pastor Luke!” a voice called from the barn. “Is that you?”

  “Sure is, Gabe!” Luke called back. He turned to Winnie. “Gabe is the oldest.”

  She stared at the boy as he approached; a rope in his hand. “He can’t be more than ten or eleven.”

  “Nine actually. He’s tall for his age.”

  She tightened her grip on the toddlers in her arms, and gaped at her surroundings.

  “Dag-blasted horse got away from me again!” the boy lamented. He went to the horse, which spun away and trotted a few feet away. “See what I mean? If he don’t want to be caught, he does this!” He threw the rope to the ground and stomped his foot. “Ma’s gonna kill me if’n I don’t get to town.”

  “What is it you need?”

  “We done run out of sugar, flour, lard, you name it. I figured it would be quicker to ride than walk.”

  “How is your mother today?”

  Gabe notice Winnie, looked her up and down, and turned back to Luke. “You done up and get yerself a wife?”

  Luke laughed. “Hardly.” He glanced at her, and noted the tight set of her jaw. “But one day …” He watched out the corner of his eye as she relaxed. Well, what do you know …

  “…Maybe I’ll find myself one as pretty as this, if I’m lucky.”

  Gabe studied her. “This one looks all right; why don’t you marry her?”

  Winnie’s cheeks flushed pink, and Luke found he couldn’t resist. “Hmmm, that’s an idea…” Her face brightened to a furious red as her mouth dropped open. He fought to keep from laughing, and felt a tiny prick of guilt. “But I’d never get that lucky …” he said as he stared into her eyes. He took a deep breath and turned away. “Now, tell me about your mother.”

  Nine

  Winnie held her breath, the children still in her arms, and followed Luke and the boy into the house. What did he mean by saying such things? Sure, she knew he was teasing; but what she didn’t expect was the way his words hit her like a rock. They stung, and made her feel like packing up her things and leaving. What was she doing here? Whatever had possessed her to stay in this madcap scheme? She was an idiot to think Luke Adams would fall in love with her! He didn’t want a wife; heck, he wouldn’t want her as an assistant once the Fourth of July celebration was over. For one, she had the church office already organized. What would he need her for?

  “Mrs. Edmondson?” Luke called as they entered.

  Gabe went ahead of them, down a hall to the back of the house. Winnie was distracted from her thoughts by the ominous silence. She’d expected chaos, not a tomb. But, as luck would have it, chaos came in many forms. “Oh!” she cried and stopped up short, almost dropping one of the toddlers.

  They were now in the kitchen. Everything was covered in flour. Three young children were sitting in the middle of the floor, dipping their hands into a sugar jar. Luke stood, hands on his hips, and glared at them. “Looks like someone’s not going to get any of the candy I brought.”

  The three gaped at him with sugar-and-flour-covered faces. “Pastoh Wuke!” a little girl said as she pushed herself up from the floor, her eyes glued to the sack in his hand. “Candy?”

  He sighed. “Elizabeth Edmonson, just look at you.”

  Winnie, her arms tired, set the toddlers down. Elizabeth wasn’t much older; she guessed the girl was no more than three. “Look at this mess.”

  Luke turned to her. “Meet the children; Elizabeth, Lily, and Eldon. The two you were carrying are the twins, Cole and Charity.”

  Winnie watched as the twins toddled over to their siblings, and sat in the mess on the floor. “Is this all of them?”

  “Except for Ella. She’s upstairs in the bedroom with Ma,” offered Gabe.

  “Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” Luke said as he put a hand on Winnie’s shoulder.

  She felt warmed by his touch, and had a sudden vision of being married to him, with a house full of children such as the ones before her. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes against the thought, and took a deep breath. “We’d best get started then.”

  He gave her shoulder a light pat. “You take care of this down here; I’ll go check on Mrs. Edmonson and the baby. Coming, Gabe?”

  Gabe nodded. “I still need to go to town. Now ya know why.”

  “I can see that. Let’s take care of your mother first, and then you can go.”

  The boy nodded, his face red, and led Luke from the kitchen to see his mother. Winnie released the breath she’d been holding and again took in the scene before her, trying to figure out where to start.

  “Who are you?” Elizabeth asked as
she stared up at Winnie with her big brown eyes.

  Winnie smiled and noticed that the child’s dark hair was matted at the back of her head. “I’m Winnie; I came to help out today.”

  Elizabeth looked to the floor, and then pointed to her brother and sisters. “They made a mess.”

  “They certainly did,” Winnie agreed and bent down to the child’s level. “You wouldn’t happen to have helped make it, would you?”

  Elizabeth looked at the floor again, and said nothing.

  “I thought so,” Winnie said as she stood. “Well, how would you like to help me clean it up?”

  Elizabeth raised her face, tears in her eyes. “No switch! No switch!”

  Winnie noted the fear in her eyes. “I’m not going to take a switch to you, sweetie.”

  The child sniffed. “Pa will.”

  “Not if we get this cleaned up. Now let’s get started.”

  Elizabeth went to a small worktable, reached up and, standing on tiptoe, pulled a dishrag from its surface. She turned and held it up to Winnie. “This helps.”

  Winnie smiled. “Yes, it does. Thank you.” She took the rag from the child. “Do you know where your sister and brother’s clothes are?” She pointed to Cole and Charity, who had just spilled the remaining sugar onto the floor. “Oh my …”

  “Bad babies,” offered Elizabeth.

  “Indeed. What should we do about it? Get them dressed?”

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  “No? What do you mean no?”

  “Switch!”

  “Switch? What about pants?” Winnie suggested as she pulled the twins out of the mess. “Now, where are your clothes?”

  Elizabeth raced out of the room and disappeared. Winnie blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes and, guessing the child was trying to help, followed her. Sure enough, she found her in the parlor where various pieces of clothing were scattered. “Good work, Elizabeth. Let’s get them dressed.”

  “They always taking their clothes off,” said Elizabeth.

  Winnie sat on a chair and slipped a worn dress over Charity’s head. It was a hand-me-down that had seen better days. She then took care of Cole. “Do they have shoes?” she asked her little helper. Elizabeth shook her head no. It was then that Winnie noticed she hadn’t any shoes, either. Before she could ask her if she owned any, Luke came down the stairs.