by E. E. Burke
“David didn’t take anything.” Victoria came to her husband’s defense and to his side. Her expression remained polite, but her tone had a sharp edge. “Mr. Sumner doesn’t own those concepts. He’s doing what stores in the east have been doing for several years, which I suggested David might try.”
Maggie wasn’t surprised or offended by her sister-in-law’s protective streak, which extended to her as well. David didn’t really need protecting, with the exception of his hair.
Victoria retrieved Patrick before the toddler snatched his father bald-headed. She lovingly combed her fingers through her husband’s mussed hair. “Maggie, you know your brother wouldn’t steal from anyone.”
David grasped Victoria’s wrist, pulled her closer and pressed a quick kiss on her lips, making her blush. “Except for kisses. I steal those all the time.”
Their easy affection usually made Maggie happy, but today it made her jealous.
Her brother released his wife’s arm, and when he turned to Maggie his smile fell away. “Sumner didn’t just move here and open a store. He moved in, intending to take my customers and put me out of business. He’ll climb over anyone and everyone to get what he wants. I’ll admit he’s not unique in that way, but is that the kind of man you want?”
Maggie took a step backwards. “I didn’t say I wanted him.”
“Your eyes say it.”
She shook her head, frantic to deny the truth because she knew it would hurt her brother if he thought she was in love with Gordon Sumner. “I would never marry someone who could harm you. I’m just saying he’s not as bad as you think. He is competitive, yes, but he’s got a big heart. He’s been paying Anna Smith higher wages ever since her Pa died. And he came up with this idea for the parade as a way to collect gifts for the orphans.”
Maggie tore away from David’s steady gaze, crossing to the front window. Snow no longer fell, and people were getting out. Soon, the sleigh would arrive and she would have to put on a happy face and pretend to be Sum’s wife. Rather, Mr. Santa’s bride.
If only make-believe could be true.
She knew Sum wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t right for her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him. He’d been good to her, and his flirting and teasing had been good for her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have fun. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they were his arms. “I don’t remember playing much as a girl. He teases me and makes everything we do together fun.”
David’s voice came from behind her. “Sis, I’m glad he can make you smile. But you know he got you into that parade for his own reasons. It’ll give him fine publicity, and he managed to work it out so he doesn’t have to spend much of anything to look good.”
Her brother’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, for the first time feeling heavy, burdensome. “Take care, Maggeen.”
Her throat tightened at the childhood term of endearment. She didn’t recall her father using it, but David did. He’d been ten when their parents died in that terrible fire, old enough to remember. All she recalled was her mother’s scent, rosewater, and her father’s thick Irish brogue. No photographs survived. Folks said David looked like his father. She also had their father’s dark coloring and wry sense of humor. The only inheritance from her mother, as far as she could see, was the watch pinned close to her heart.
“What do you suppose Ma and Da would’ve advised?” she asked without turning around.
David remained silent for a moment, perhaps thinking. He wasn’t spontaneous, like Sum. Her brother reflected before he spoke or acted, especially if it concerned something important.
“They would’ve told you to listen to your heart.”
Chapter 8
The day turned out perfect for a parade. The snow ceased early, temperatures rose to above freezing and the clouds cleared, making way for the sun. Sum didn’t look up at the blue sky, else he would be reminded of something Maggie had said. Then he would start thinking he still had a chance to win her.
Dressed as St. Nick, he guided two white horses, having to explain to children who asked that reindeer weren’t native to Kansas. Santa’s sleigh was actually a wagon with decorative wooden panels nailed to the sides, painted to make it look like it had runners rather than wheels. An actual sleigh would’ve been ruined if taken over trolley tracks.
Mrs. Claus sat beside him, being generous with candy and smiles. The rich red velvet he’d selected for her dress complemented her creamy skin and dark hair, which she’d attempted to turn gray with powder. She hadn’t needed to add a thing to her naturally rosy cheeks.
He’d opted for a simpler garment, a heavy green robe cinched at the waist with rope. Fur trim would’ve been nice had it been more affordable. Completing the outfit, a wig and a chest-length white beard secured with string hidden by a nightcap.
Maggie looked adorable. He looked like an imposter with fake whiskers.
Sum glanced over again, unable to keep hope at bay. She might’ve at least smiled at him. Even a friendly look would be nice. She’d smiled and waved at everyone else. He’d done his duty with frequent ho-ho-hos, and refused to let on how much her disregard bothered him.
The parade wound through the main part of town, down Wall Street and along the National Cemetery Road. The festive entourage featured numerous decorated manger scenes on flatbeds, as well as children dressed up as angels and elves. Someone had gotten the idea of rounding up dogs and having them haul a cart driven by a lad dressed up as Christmas Past. Sum didn’t remember the dogs or carts from the Dickens tale.
After three agonizing hours, the parade drew to an end, the last stop being the street where his store and O’Brien’s were located.
“Look, Victoria is waving us over.” Maggie pointed in the direction of her brother’s store. “She promised me she would muster an army to help with the toy collection.”
“I see Mr. O’Brien and your landlord, Mr. O’Connor. Would that be her army, or just the generals?”
Maggie’s lips inched up, a slight smile. He could do better.
He made for the hitching post, guiding the horses around a mob of children. “The troops appear to be swarming the streets. Do you think she meant to recruit dwarves?”
That should’ve elicited a laugh, at the very least an eye roll.
A wiser man would give up his pursuit, but he didn’t know how to quit. Never had. Facing bullies as a kid, and later as a young man, he’d been beaten to a bloody pulp. Chasing his dream of having a successful store, he’d lost his shirt, his home, been threatened and forced to flee, and still he hadn’t given up. Once he set his mind to something, nothing stopped him—and he’d set his mind on having Maggie.
“Do you see any toys on the sidewalk?” She sounded worried.
“No, but I left instructions with Miss Smith for all donations to be brought inside in case of bad weather. Maybe your brother did the same. We can check as soon as we get rid of the rest of this candy.”
Despite their falling out, Maggie still had some measure of faith in him. He would not disappoint her. If there weren’t enough gifts to go around, he would find a way to provide them, even if he had to delay repaying his debts. He could move shells around for another month, and pray no collectors showed up on his doorstep.
After all the gifts were collected, he would help her distribute them. Along the way, he could coax a genuine smile out of her, and if he was lucky, perhaps a kiss. Proposing so soon hadn’t been smart. Now he’d have to start over—once he got her attention.
As the wagon rolled to a stop, the army converged, tiny soldiers screaming at the top of their lungs. “Santa! Candy!”
Sum had to scurry to prevent the frantic midgets from overrunning the wagon before he could reach the back and retrieve the candy. Hiking up the long robe, he stepped down, and then hoisted Maggie to the pavement, holding her close, lest she be knocked down.
In less than half an hour, they’d distributed the remainder of the candy contained in the large burla
p sack. After the happy hoard raced off with their goodies, a boy dashed up, skidded to a stop in front of Sum.
The lad didn’t look much past twelve, if even that. Carrot-red hair stuck out every which way and he’d been cursed with an abundance of freckles. He reminded Sum of how he’d looked growing up, when he had been dubbed scarecrow by his classmates.
Sum met a pair of worried blue eyes. Fortunately, he’d managed to slip a peppermint cane into his pocket in case a teary-eyed latecomer showed up. “Merry Christmas, young man. You’re looking for candy, I presume?”
The boy bobbed his head, eagerly. Looked like he needed clothing more than candy. He didn’t have on gloves or a hat. His pale wrists extended beyond the sleeves of a tight coat, his dungarees were patched together, and his big toes poked out of holes in his shoes.
Clearly, he came from a poor family. Sum frowned. Poor or not, he would offer his own hat and shoes before he sent his child out into the cold with his head and feet exposed.
“Felix!” A raw-boned woman in a rough woolen coat and poke bonnet stalked up behind the boy and took hold of him by the ear. “You don’t go nowhere lessen I say.”
The child winced. “Yes ma’am.”
Sum narrowed his eyes at the ill-tempered crow. How would she like it if someone twisted her ear to get her attention? “Madam, go easy on him. Boys forget when they’re excited. Here’s a piece of candy for your son.”
He held out the peppermint stick. The woman snatched it out of his hand.
“He ain’t my son,” she scoffed. “He works at our farm. Him and those lazy young’uns over there.” She indicated a group of younger children, equally ill clothed, huddled in the back of a wagon with no cover. “We heard you was collectin’ for orphans. Them’s orphans. We come to get whatever it is you’re givin’ out.”
Cruel and greedy. Her name went on the naughty list.
“A lump of coal, is that what you had in mind?” Sum inquired.
She squinted with a look of interest. “You givin’ out coal?”
Stupid woman.
Maggie came around from the back of the makeshift sleigh, looking none too happy. “Mrs. Meaney, those children are freezing. Get them out of the cold, somewhere warm.”
Not even the cavalry could break through the crowd in front of O’Brien’s general store. Not to mention, that place wasn’t what one might call warm. Sum gestured across the street. “Take them over to my store. You can wait there until we sort through the gifts.”
The harpy planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Jist who do you think you are, orderin’ me around?”
“I am Santa.” As if he had to tell her. She didn’t appear to be blind. “And this is Mrs. Claus. She’s in charge of distributing the gifts. No one gets anything without going through her first.”
The woman harrumphed. “Well, we better get somethin’ after coming all the way to town.”
She grabbed the boy’s arm and nearly yanked it out of its socket when she turned on her heel to leave. The bank president chose that moment to stroll over. Mrs. Meaney elbowed him aside. Looking bewildered at her rudeness, Charlie Goodlander nevertheless tipped his hat.
“Madam, Merry Christmas.”
She didn’t give him a moment’s notice but kept on in a beeline for her wagon.
He replaced his bowler, an amused grin pushed out graying muttonchops on his generous jowls. “Good heavens. Who was that?”
Maggie’s worried gaze followed the orphans as their guardian herded them across the street. “Agnes Meaney. She and her husband run one of the poor farms in the area. Sadly, those children are her charges.”
Goodlander’s amusement faded.
Sum silently vowed to make certain those youngsters received warm clothing and shoes that fit. “Why would any judge in his right mind put children with someone like her?”
“There are few places orphans can go, if no one steps up to adopt them.” Maggie slipped her arm through his. Did she realize what she’d done?
Sum’s heartbeat accelerated, an affliction that showed no signs of abating. Anytime she needed to hold onto him, she could. In fact, he wanted her to turn to him, and to depend on him, and—if the stars aligned just right—to fall in love with him.
She released a heavy sigh. “I wish we could take those children somewhere they could be with people who care about them.”
“Poor farms aren’t the best solution,” he acknowledged. Sadly, he didn’t have a better one.
Maggie turned her attention to the bank president. “What about that idea you mentioned at the meeting, Mr. Goodland? For a children’s home, right here in Fort Scott. Where orphans like those could come to live and get the care they need, and a proper education.”
Goodlander rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You know, I have been thinking about that a great deal since you visited our committee. We’d have to find a good location, and raise enough money, and hire somebody to run it.”
Sum latched onto a candidate. Convincing Maggie to move back to Fort Scott would be good for orphans like Felix. Her return would also be good for a certain shopkeeper. He didn’t wait for her to volunteer. “Miss O’Brien would make an excellent headmistress. She’s kind and compassionate, devoted to children, and went to a teachers’ college. That job’s readymade for her.
Maggie didn’t leap at the opportunity as he expected. After all, it was her idea, even if she’d been smart enough to convince the bank president he’d thought of it first. Surprisingly, she appeared reluctant. “I already have a job, and I can’t leave my students. Not to mention, this home we’re talking about doesn’t yet exist. It would be premature to hire the staff.”
“I grant you, it’ll take time to arrange everything, but we can get it done.” Goodlander folded his arms over his barrel chest. “When I came out here forty years ago, all I owned was a few carpentry tools. Started work, eventually got me a lumber mill. I lost everything in the big fire and had to rebuild. So I built a hotel, and then started a bank. I’ve been poor as many times as I’ve been rich. Life’s a struggle, Miss O’Brien. Succeeding at anything worth doing takes persistence.”
“You know that, don’t you,” Sum said to Maggie. “And you’re as hardheaded as I am.”
She glanced upward and a wry smile reappeared. “Why, you flatter me, sir.”
“He’s right, though.” Goodlander grinned. “That’s what it takes to make something like this happen, mule-headed do-gooders.”
“Mule-headed, eh?” Sum murmured. It fit. No one had ever called him a do-gooder, but there was always a first time. Besides, Maggie had enough good to make up for his bad. “You’d be a compelling spokesperson for a children’s home, Miss O’Brien.”
“What about you, Mr. Sumner? A sharp businessman like yourself should have some idea about how to raise the necessary funds.”
He hesitated, caught off guard by her maneuver. He couldn’t come up with enough money to pay his debts, much less start a children’s home. “I have a feeling you’re the sharper of the two of us. Are you sure I’m the right person?”
The objection died on his lips when Maggie gave him a look that said she expected him to say as much. She saw through him enough to realize he wasn’t the charitable soul he’d pretended to be all day. He couldn’t expect to gain her admiration if he didn’t show some courage.
“Then again, Santa ought to be able to come up with something, eh?”
Goodlander slapped him on the back. “Excellent! I knew I could count on you.”
Maggie’s surprised gaze told him he’d been correct about her low opinion of him, which her brother, no doubt, took every opportunity to reinforce.
Sum resented not being in a position to refute the slurs. In good conscience, he couldn’t recommend himself to Maggie, so he ought to politely back down and honor her wishes to be left alone. His conscience, however, had minimal influence over his desires. If he could figure out a way to win her, he would do it.
Goodlander turne
d to Maggie with a ready smile. “And you, Miss O’Brien? What do you say? Will you assist me with this project?”
“I’d be happy to speak out in support of a local children’s home.”
“Not just speak out, you must consider coming back to run it.”
The old gentleman’s tenacity impressed Sum. Joining forces, they might just succeed in convincing Maggie to return.
“If you believe I could do a good job, I’d consider it.” She fiddled with the watch pinned to her bodice, nervous about something, perhaps the idea of being in the same town with him.
“Miss O’Brien, you are capable of anything you decide to pursue,” Sum stated. That included marrying her brother’s competitor, but he didn’t point this out. She would come around only after he proved he was a worthy suitor, which meant taking care of Maggie’s orphans.
She craned her neck to peer over at her brother’s store. “Oh, I think David and Mr. O’Connor are collecting gifts now. I should go help them and see what we have so far.
Before releasing her arm, Sum reminded her. “You’ll come by later. We can talk about our plans for fundraising, and tomorrow we’ll distribute the gifts we collected.”
He could break through her resistance if he could get her alone.
Maggie pulled free and shook her head. “David offered his assistance. He’ll escort me, you needn’t leave your store.”
Sum was tired of O’Brien inserting himself between them, or was this Maggie’s doing? She might be using her brother as a convenient excuse to avoid him. Granted, he ought to be working in his store, making all the money he could make over the next few days. But he also wanted time alone with Maggie. How else would he convince her to give him another chance?
“There’s an extra clerk I can call in to help Miss Smith at the store. We agreed Santa would visit the orphans. I’m Santa this year, therefore, I’ll be the one to accompany you.”
