by AlLee, Jennifer L. ; Breidenbach, Angela; Franklin, Darlene
“I suppose we have.” Lorelei pulled an ottoman to the sofa and sat down, grateful he was alive.
“I’m going to watch for the marshal,” Da said. “Come with me, Maggie.” He took his wife by the elbow and steered her out of the parlor.
“Don’t you have half-a-dozen pies to make for the contest tomorrow?” Emmett asked.
She touched his hand. “It’s hard to care about the contest after everything that happened today.”
He interlaced their fingers. “You may not care about the contest, Lorelei, but I do.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smoothed the creases in her forehead with his free hand. “There’s a man coming on the train tomorrow afternoon. He should be there in time for the contest. His name is Jimmy, and he needs to taste your apple pie. Recipe number twenty-three.”
His eyes fluttered shut and his hand fell to his chest. She squeezed his fingers.
“Emmett? Wake up. Who is Jimmy, and what does he have to do with my apple pie? And why twenty-three? That’s not my favorite.”
She waited. Squeezed his hand again. And then she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. His mouth moved beneath hers, and she pulled back.
“Trust me,” he whispered, and then he kissed her with a sweetness that rivaled any apple pie she’d ever made.
Chapter 11
Lorelei was pulling the first batch of pies—recipe number twenty-three, as per Emmett’s instructions—out of the oven when the marshal knocked on the door. She nearly dropped the pie tins.
Would she be arrested for poisoning the men? Had they fallen seriously ill before the marshal’s arrival?
She hurried into the foyer. Her father and the marshal were headed toward the parlor.
“Wait, Da, Emmett is resting.” She laid a hand on her father’s arm and addressed the marshal, whose steel-gray handlebar mustache extended almost across his entire face. “Marshal Day, the men who attacked me, are they all right?”
The marshal looked down his nose at her. “They’ve been transferred to the jail, sicker than dogs, Miss Boyd. Would you like to explain that?”
She hung her head, heart pounding. “I put Otto’s morphine in the pies they ate. I thought it would knock them out so I could escape, and then Emmett—Mr. Dewey—arrived and they hit him over the head.”
“Quite ingenious of you,” the marshal’s mustache twitched. “You realize they could press charges against you?”
“That’s absurd,” Da boomed. “They took her hostage.”
“I agree, Mr. Boyd, but it could be argued that she attempted to murder them.”
“I’ll go speak to them in the morning,” Lorelei said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Momma insisted, coming up behind Da.
“Momma, I must. I regretted putting the morphine in the pies before I even got them out of the oven. And you don’t understand. They all had such sorrowful stories. They need work, and they can’t find it.”
Da and the marshal harrumphed. “I can’t find a way out of work,” Da grumbled under his breath.
“Da, you know how things are. They’ve all been riding the rails since they were children. No one has ever given them a chance to make anything of themselves.”
The other side of the marshal’s mustache flickered, reminiscent of a cat’s tail. “And to soothe your guilty conscience you’ve determined to take on that role yourself?”
“Lorelei …” Momma reproved. “These are dangerous men.”
Lorelei gripped her mother’s hand. “They are what society and circumstance has made them. Isn’t it our Christian duty to show mercy to those who are less fortunate? And besides, we’ve a harvest coming and no one to bring it in. We could offer them gainful, if temporary, employment.”
“But they attacked you!” Da interjected.
“And I poisoned them … on purpose. I think that makes us even. I could have killed them. Please, Da, you can come with me. Talk to them yourself. If you feel it won’t work, if we simply can’t give them a chance, I’ll accept your decision.”
Momma’s eyes filled with tears. “I am so proud of you, my dear.”
Da cleared his throat. “Marshal, if you could arrange a meeting tomorrow before the Apple Pie Days festivities begin, we’ll be there to speak with these men.”
Lorelei smiled. “Thank you, Da.”
“I’ll see to it,” the marshal said. He sniffed the air appreciatively. “And, Miss Boyd, I look forward to sampling one of your pies again this year. Without any additional ingredients, I hope.”
“We’ll save you a slice, Marshal Day,” Lorelei said.
“Do you need to speak with Mr. Dewey?” Momma asked.
“No, ma’am, I don’t believe so. If he wants to press charges against the men, he can do so when he’s feeling better.”
“I’m going to check on him,” Lorelei said, excusing herself.
Emmett probed the egg-sized lump on the crown of his head with a tentative touch. The swelling was beginning to subside after several applications of ice. His head still throbbed, but he could see straight now and didn’t feel like he was going to lose his breakfast. In fact, he was beginning to feel hungry, which he counted as a good sign.
“You must have a hard head,” Lorelei said from the doorway.
He smiled a crooked smile. “And that’s a good thing. If I didn’t, I might not be here.”
She frowned and crossed the room. “I’m sorry. I feel like it’s my fault you got hurt.” She sank onto the ottoman, and he wished she would kiss him again.
“Nonsense. It’s no one’s fault but that tramp who conked me over the head.”
“I need to talk to you about that.”
Emmett heard the discomfort in her voice and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away, and he was glad. “What about them? I thought I heard the marshal arrive. Are they in jail?”
“Yes. And I’ll be going in to visit them tomorrow.”
Emmett raised his brows. “Why?”
“Because I want to hire them, at least during the beet harvest, if Da approves. They need a chance. They need mercy.”
He looked at her. “All right. It’s not as though you need my approval.”
She pulled her hand away. “I wanted to let you know. If you want to press charges against them, that will change my plan.”
“Lorelei, if you can forgive them, I can, too.” He squeezed her fingers, and she offered him a smile.
“I need to get back to baking if I’m to have all those pies done in time for the contest tomorrow.”
“And for Jimmy. Don’t forget to save a slice for Jimmy.”
“I won’t. Do you think you’ll be well enough to attend?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“All right, then,” she said, rising to leave. She paused at the door. “Why pie number twenty-three? Why did you pick that one?”
He offered her an easy smile. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, after the contest.”
She left the room, and he sank back into the pillows. In the morning he would wire his mother and tell her he’d finally found the woman he wanted to marry. He’d build her a house on Otto’s land and let her grow every variety of apple tree she could find.
Chapter 12
Lorelei dressed with extra care the next morning. Her fingers fumbled over the tiny buttons on her blouse, and her hair was uncooperative, but she eventually declared the result satisfactory. It was her pies that were to be judged, not her attire.
Emmett waited for her on the porch, hat in hand. He’d put on his fancy clothes again, and she was struck anew by how attractive he was. Her gaze rested on his mouth, reminding her of the kisses they’d shared. That thought sent a rosy flush to her cheeks. She wished he wasn’t planning to leave.
“Good morning, Lorelei,” he said. “Would you care for a ride into town?”
“Are you all right to drive?” She patted her head, knocking her hat askew. She fussed with the pins to right it
.
“I’ve still got a headache, but otherwise I seem to be fine.”
“What about my folks?”
“They already left.”
“Oh. I need to get the pies.”
“Your mother already boxed them up and put them in the trunk of the Paige.” He offered her his arm. “Are you ready to win the contest?”
Her heart fluttered as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her to the car and open her door. “I hope so, but the contest still seems trivial after yesterday’s excitement.”
When they arrived at the festival grounds, she delivered her pies to the contest first. She ignored the stares from the other girls at the sight of Emmett, deftly pulling pies out of the trunk of the bright yellow roadster. Then Emmett drove her to the jail. Her father was inside with Marshal Day. Drub, Tweedy, Lefty, and Righty, who looked very much the worse for wear, were in a communal cell. Drub glowered, and the other three looked at her with wide eyes.
“Whaddya want with us, missy?” Drub demanded.
“Keep a civil tongue, sir,” Marshal Day admonished.
Lorelei took a deep breath. “I came to apologize for poisoning the pies I baked for you.”
“Is that what happened? I thought we’d had too much moonshine.” Tweedy poked Lefty in the ribs with a bony elbow.
“ ’Splains the hangover.”
“You came to apologize?” Drub asked. He weighed more than the other three and didn’t seem quite as miserable as the others. “It’s not like we didn’t deserve it.”
Lorelei acknowledged his admission with a nod. “I know. But when I heard your stories, I felt sorry for you, and I wanted to take it back. But it was too late.” She sighed. “And then Mr. Dewey came in and you hit him, and …” Her voice trailed off.
“I’m sorry, too, miss.” Lefty said. “We ain’t never done nothin’ like that before, I swear.”
Tweedy rubbed his stomach and groaned. “And we never will again, I can promise you that.”
“My daughter”—Da’s deep voice echoed off the bare brick walls—“would like me to offer you temporary jobs bringing in our sugar beet harvest. Room and board, plus modest wages.”
All four men blinked at him then at Lorelei, in turn.
“If there’s so much as an impolite word spoken, the marshal will haul you right out of town without pay. After I’m through with you.” Da cracked his meaty knuckles.
Righty swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Are you willing to work?” Da asked.
Tweedy, Lefty, and Righty nodded and sat up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
Drub was slower to respond, and when he leaned forward, he fixed his gaze on Lorelei. “This your plan?”
She nodded.
“How you expect to pay us when your family’s about to lose the farm?”
Her throat constricted as her father, Emmett, and the marshal turned eyes on her. “You know?” Da asked.
“Yes. I read one of the letters from the bank.”
“Did you win that pie contest yet?” Drub asked.
“Be quiet,” Emmett said to Drub. He reached for Lorelei’s hand. “What does the pie contest have to do with the farm?”
Tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t wanted it all to come out like this, especially not in front of Emmett. “If I win the contest, I believe I can sell the recipe. I’ll use the money to pay the bank,” she said. “That’s why I’ve been so focused on winning. I’m trying to save my family’s home.”
A broad smile spread across his face.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Trust me,” Emmett replied, and to her shock, he leaned in and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.
Da cleared his throat. “Lorelei, your mother and I never wanted you to be worried about the farm. We’ll find a way, with God’s help, as we have always done before.” Da pulled her into his embrace. “I’m sorry you were afraid.”
“Thank you, Da. I’m sorry I didn’t say something.”
Da spoke to the four prisoners. “If you’ll come to work, you’ll get paid when the harvest is in. You have my word. If that’s not good enough, then you can stay here.”
“We’ll work for you, Mr. Boyd,” Drub said.
“I’ll come around and pick you up on our way out of town this afternoon.” Da shook the marshal’s hand and left the building. Lorelei and Emmett followed him.
Outside, Da squeezed his daughter’s shoulders in a one-armed hug. “Sometimes I don’t understand what God is doing, but then He gives me a glimpse, and it’s always more than I could have imagined.” Releasing her, he looked pointedly at Emmett. “I’m going to go find my wife. You two young people go enjoy the festival. We’ll see you at the judging this afternoon.” He clapped Emmett on the back and strode down the street.
Emmett let Mr. Boyd’s not-so-subtle hint soak in. Then he grasped Lorelei’s hand and led her down the street, away from the jail.
“What about your car?” she asked.
“It’s probably safer in front of the jail than it would be anywhere else,” he replied. “Tell me about this plan of yours.”
She groaned. “I’m so embarrassed. I should have told my parents. I probably should have told you these past few days. Instead, I told those four tramps while I baked poisoned pies for them to eat.”
“Your plan?” he prodded.
“I read an article a few months ago in Ladies’ Home Journal about a woman who sold her cookie recipe to a fancy restaurant. They paid her twice what my parents need to take care of the bank’s demands.” She dug in her heels and they stopped. “Is that completely insane?”
Emmett shook his head. “Not at all. You saw an opportunity.”
“Did you know I came in second last year and the year before that in the pie contest?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“I thought all I needed was something to set my pies apart from the rest. That’s when Otto and I formed our partnership. Well, after he insisted on paying me for bringing him dinner. He wasn’t eating well on his own.”
Emmett tucked that bit of information away. This woman he’d fallen in love with had a habit of seeing needs and finding ways to meet them.
“And if you don’t win today?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Like Da said, God has always provided. Who knows? Maybe Drub will dig up a gold brick in the beet field.” She didn’t sound convinced.
Should he tell her about Jimmy? He opened his mouth to speak.
“Lorelei Boyd! Lorelei!” A beautiful young woman with shining dark hair that rippled down her back trotted up the street toward them. Lorelei let out a little moan.
“Audrey,” she grumbled.
“Who’s your friend?”
“This is Emmett Dewey. He bought Otto Starkey’s place.”
“Oh, the orchard,” Audrey said. “How convenient. I wanted to wish you the best of luck today.”
“Thank you,” Lorelei said. “And to you, as well.”
“Oh, I won’t need it. My uncle and my cousin are judging again,” the girl replied then giggled. “I’ll save you a slice of my pie, Mr. Dewey, so you can compare.” And with a wave and a toss of her fat, dark curls, Audrey headed back the way she’d come.
“Audrey was last year’s queen,” Lorelei said, by way of explanation.
Emmett grunted. “That would be enough to make me desperate to win the contest myself.”
“You didn’t find her charming? Everyone else does.”
She sounded so despondent Emmett put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze.
“If you haven’t figured it out by now, Lorelei Boyd, you are the only young woman I find charming.”
She blushed but turned away. “You flatter me, but you’re leaving once you sell Otto’s place.”
He picked up her hand again and pulled her forward, toward the colored banners and cheerful sounds of the festival. “And what
if that were subject to change?”
“What did you say?” she asked, jogging to keep up with him in her heeled shoes. He slowed and interlaced their fingers, enjoying the contact.
“Nothing. Let’s enjoy the day. I haven’t been to a festival in years.”
Lorelei’s heart rate sped up to a gallop.
Oh dear. She was in love with him.
The realization stunned and horrified at the same time. She hadn’t planned to fall in love with Emmett Dewey, the opportunist. But she was hard pressed to find time to fret about it as Emmett, with childlike excitement, dragged her from one distraction to another.
They watched a parade. Emmett bought a paper cone of fairy floss for them to share, won a stuffed dog in a target shooting game he gave to a small girl in a frayed dress, and then he pulled Lorelei into the middle of an impromptu street dance. When the bell rang to announce the contest, she was flushed, rumpled, and happy.
“I need to go collect Jimmy from the train depot,” Emmett said, spinning her around.
Lorelei halted. She didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want the day to come to an end.
“Trust me,” he said again. Before she could ask him about it, he was towing her through the crowd.
By the time they made their way to the contest site, the judges were already in place, contestants lined up behind them. Emmett boosted her onto the dais, and Lorelei slipped into place at the end of the queue. Audrey was in the center, last year’s tiara perched on her head.
When Lorelei turned, Emmett was gone. She tried to slow her breathing. If she didn’t win … No, she couldn’t think about that. She had to trust.
I want to trust, Lord. But I’m afraid.
“And the second runner-up in this year’s Apple Pie Days contest is Ellie Armbruster,” announced the festival’s emcee. The crowd applauded. Lorelei’s stomach danced.
“First runner-up is …”
Lorelei held her breath.
“Lorelei Boyd, for the third straight year.”
