"We weren't sure what 'the plan' was for us twelve, so we visited about it. Actually, I think Kaitlyn picked a sincere group of young men."
"Just so you know, I was as surprised by this matchmaking as you were," Reuben said, "but, I still need to get to know your young man before I give you permission to marry."
Amelia blushed at his remark, thinking about marrying someone...like Barton.
"Did you like Wesley?" her mother prodded.
"They all seem nice," Amelia hinted. "But, I think some of us would like to switch the matches you made for us."
"Marriage is a lifetime commitment, so be sure you do marry the right man. I didn't the first time with your father," Darcie lamented as she shook her head. "But twenty-years ago, I married the right man the second time round."
Her parents' eyes met again, showing the love they had for each other. They were right. Amelia wanted the same kind of love that would last forever.
“We plan to get together tomorrow evening at the dress shop to eat and play cards,” Amelia rushed on, hoping they wouldn’t say she couldn’t go.
“You can host the group here some night if you want. We’ll make ourselves scarce,” Darcie smiled as she glanced at her husband. “Your father and I can eat at the café and then go over to the saddle shop for a few hours.”
“We can?” Reuben whipped his newspaper to a fold in a new direction.
“Yes, we can. Remember wanting to be alone when we were first married?”
“Which was impossible since we already had four children when we wed,” Reuben bantered back.
“Anyway, you have time to get to know each other. Don’t rush to the altar, even if the other couples do. Please promise me that?” her mother asked Amelia.
“Yes, Mama,” Amelia agreed as she rose to go up to her room. But she was already thinking about kissing Barton again. For some odd reason, she was really attracted to him.
“First thing in the morning you need to resole Mack Reagan’s boots and then bring them over to him where they are working,” Reuben called out.
“I don’t remember them being on the repair shelf,” Amelia said as she paused on the first step.
“He dropped them off here this evening. They’re by the back door. The heel came off one boot, and he doesn’t want to slide off a roof or something.”
“I’ll take care of that first then. Did he say where he’d be working?”
“The barbershop.”
The barbershop, where all the group was working on the building, including Barton. Amelia would get to see him twice tomorrow.
Chapter 7
"Hello? Mack?"
Barton heard Amelia's voice in the front of the barbershop. He and Mack, standing on scaffolding, were working in the back bathing room repairing a water spot stain on the ceiling. Barton fell to his knees and grabbed the too-narrow board with both hands when Mack quickly climbed down, leaving Barton up there by himself.
Barton hated heights but hadn't told the carpenter when Mack told him to climb up toward the twelve-foot-tall ceiling.
"Got my boots done, Amelia?" Mack called out as he jumped the last six feet to the floor. The big man was as agile as Squirrel, who should have been up on the scaffolding instead of himself.
Amelia scanned the room, and a smile lit on her face when she spotted Barton, dearly hanging on for life.
"Yes, sir," Amelia said as she looked back to Mack. "I don't know how you were staying safe with your floppy heel."
"Oh, it's been that way for weeks. My wife said to repair them, or she was going to burn them, so I didn't have any choice."
"Your doctor wife didn't want to patch up your broken bones," Amelia teased, but Barton didn't think it was funny. Mack's bad boots could have caused him to fall too. He shut his eyes for a second but popped them right open again, because that made his dizziness worse.
"I'll get my boots switched, and we'll get back to work. Thanks, Amelia. I'll go over to your shop and pay later."
Barton watched Amelia as she walked below his perch on the scaffolding.
"How are you doing? You don't look comfortable up there," Amelia whispered as Mack talked to another worker in another part of the room.
"I don't like heights. Squirrel should be up here, not me," Barton hissed.
"And Squirrel should be somewhere other than helping Mr. Boyle clean out the livery. He's acting like he's scared of manure."
"No, it's that team of mules we saw in the corral this morning. Squirrel is scared to death of mules," Barton confessed his little brother's fear.
"Beasley's mules do take a little understanding, but then old Mr. Boyle's gotten a little slack on taking care of them.
"Where's everyone else today?" Amelia asked.
"Working on our new jobs or teamed up to work together. Gordon and Wesley are at the hotel.
"Tobin's helping the Taylors sort their merchandise to split between the stores. He should be over talking the mules into cooperating instead of trying to work with the Taylors."
"And Peter? I saw the front doors of the smithy wide open today. Is Peter working with Kiowa? The former blacksmith still starts the forge now and then to make horseshoes for Elof Lundahl. He's the area's farrier."
"Peter may be a big man, but he's never hammered hot iron on an anvil let alone shaped it into anything. But I've done a lot of it learning from my adoptive father and repairing tools and equipment in the army."
"I think you all need to talk to Mack and Kiowa about your skills instead of taking the job they assign you," Amelia told Barton, probably because she noticed how he was clinging to his flimsy board.
"We'll stick it out for now," Barton said quietly as Mack easily swung up to the top of the ladder. Barton tried to calm his panic as the board moved beneath his body.
"Okay, let's finish this up, and then I want to check the front eaves on the building after lunch. There's a soffit board that might be rotting and needs to be replaced."
Front eaves? That was two stories up in the air! How would they get up there? By a very tall ladder or hang upside down over the top of the roof?
The group needed to have a talk at lunch about how all their jobs were going. Barton liked working with Mack, but he wanted a job with both feet on the ground.
*
"A dish is a dish, and it belongs in the housewares' store. But tools need to stay in the general store!" Tobin waved his hands as he talked, upset with his morning with the Taylors. "Mr. Taylor kept sneaking the screwdrivers in the boxes to move to the new store. I love to talk, but I don't like to argue with the man about every item on every shelf."
"Can you let Mrs. Taylor handle her husband, and you just move boxes?" Barton asked his frustrated friend.
"She's already at the new store, happily displaying the few things that have been moved over. How they stayed married forever is beyond me," Tobin huffed.
"You have a better job than mucking stalls and watching for flying hooves," Squires grumbled, as he bit into his sandwich. They'd made their lunches this morning and now sat outside the smithy to eat them.
"I can handle both the manure and the mules. I don't have much of a sense of smell, and I can talk any critter into cooperating," Tobin replied.
"But you can't talk a store owner into cooperating though," Squires said to bug him.
"True. And I got a splinter in my finger so I went over to the doctor's office, hoping Avalee would pull it out for me," Tobin continued.
"And how'd that go?" Barton asked.
"Oh, she ripped that splinter right out, while reminding me again that she has a fiancé and to leave her alone. I should have gone to the dress shop and had Molly do it with a sewing needle. She seems to tolerate me."
Gordon and Wesley, kept quiet, probably due to the fact they were getting along with Ethan and Helen Paulson at the hotel.
And then there sat Peter, saying nothing as he leaned against the building. Besides being sweaty, which would be natural for the work he was doing
, he looked exhausted.
“How are you doing, Peter? Got the hang of shaping iron with the hammer and anvil yet?” Barton asked, knowing there was a knack to it.
“Nope. I told Kiowa to talk to you about being the blacksmith. I told him I want to be the barber. Either that or I’m leaving,” Peter said as he shook his head, then rested it back against the wall.
“No! You can’t leave us, Peter!” Tobin cried as he stood up, making him about the same height as Peter sitting down.
Barton stood up. He had to talk to Kiowa for the group.
“Let me get this straight. Peter wants to be the barber. Tobin will handle the livery. I’ll take the blacksmith and Squires, hanging upside down on the roof with Mack is right up your line.”
“Yeah, I’d like to climb and build things,” Squires nodded enthusiastically.
“Gordon and Wesley, could you choose between the hotel and the grocery store?”
“Either is fine with me,” Gordon shrugged.
“Me too. I’d be fine by deciding with a toss of a coin,” Wesley answered.
“Okay, do that to decide your job. But, one of you will have to marry a Paulson girl to live in the Paulson apartment.”
The two men looked at each other, trying to figure the other out.
“I like Nadine Paulson,” Wesley announced first.
“Which is fine since I like Avalee,” Gordon said.
“But Avalee says she already has a fiancé,” Tobin reminded him.
“Maybe I’ll convince her to exchange him for me,” Gordon commented.
“Okay, I’ll go talk to Kiowa and see what he thinks but plan to switch to the job you want after lunch. And you better all be good at them,” Barton warned as he took a step toward Kiowa’s home.
This was getting so confusing! Did they do the right thing by answering the Peashooter’s advertisement?
Chapter 8
"They sound in good moods," Amelia said as they listened to the men come up the stairs to the dress shop apartment.
The table was set and ready for the evening meal. The Brenner girls were good cooks, used to making large quantities since they had ten in their immediate family.
Maisie opened the door, flushed with excitement to have the group in their apartment for the evening. This was Amelia’s sister Mary’s apartment when the widowed woman moved back to town with Amelia’s niece and nephew. It had three bedrooms, a nicely furnished living room, dining room, bathing room, and kitchen. Rather than haul the furniture back down the steep steps to Mary's new home when she and Kiowa Jones married, the furniture stayed with the place. The richness of the furnishings showed Mary’s taste in luxury, which she’d lived in her first twelve years in New York state with her mother.
Amelia's childhood home was small and plain compared to this, but she loved it anyway. And maybe soon she'd have her own home if plans worked out.
Barton strolled in the room, his dark hair damp and slicked back after washing up after his day's work. He smiled when he saw Amelia and walked in her direction.
"I guess you didn't fall off the scaffolding after all," Amelia teased him, trying to keep her porcelain skin from blushing with happiness to see him.
"That's only because I switched jobs after lunch," he grinned, much more relaxed now than when she saw him this morning tightly gripping his perch.
“How did that happen?” Amelia wanted to know.
“We talked during lunch, and I’ll just say four of us didn’t match our jobs,” Barton leaned over to whisper near her ear.
Amelia leaned in closer, enjoying his bay rum soap scent.
“What did you switch to?” Amelia asked while enjoying their nearness.
“The blacksmith. Squires went to work with Mack with his carpenter work. Peter wants to be the barber and will help them get the building ready to open.”
“Who takes over the livery then?”
“Tobin. He loves animals and came back to the apartment enthusiastic this evening.”
“Are you talking about me? Bella and Bertha, the mules, are sweethearts. And I so enjoyed visiting with Mr. Boyle this afternoon,” Tobin said, interrupting Barton’s version of everyone’s afternoon before walking away to talk to someone else.
“What about the other two?” Amelia asked about the two men not mentioned.
“They flipped a coin. Gordon is working with the Taylors to divide the mercantile, and Peter is working with the Paulsons at the hotel,” Barton shrugged at their choice of work.
“What did Kiowa say about the changes everyone wanted?”
”Kiowa said to choose what we’d do best and would enjoy in the long run.”
“Now if the Peashooters would be happy about us changing suiters…” Amelia started to say but clamped her mouth shut.
“We’re suiters now, rather than men foisted onto you by a bunch of old ladies?” Barton teased Amelia.
“Could be,” Amelia said coyly. “Your group has livened up our evenings.”
"And you have no idea how you, and your friends, have improved our lives. I keep thinking I'll wake up and this is all a dream. How could we be so lucky to land in Clear Creek?"
"The Peashooter Society does seem to work in divine and mysterious ways," Amelia said as she studied Barton's face. His brown eyes were warm and... sincere. There were tiny crinkles fanning from the corners of his eyes too.
"How old are you?" Amelia decided to ask, guessing he was older than her.
"Twenty-nine, and I'm guessing several years older than you."
"I'm twenty-one, and your age doesn't bother me. My half-siblings are fourteen and twelve years older than myself. And Papa is a decade older than Mama too."
"Good. That eases my mind a bit."
"Have you ever been married or engaged?" Amelia realized that could be the case.
"No to either. I guess I've always put my brothers and friends as my priority and didn't think about marrying and leaving them," Barton confessed.
"And now you have the opportunity to settle down together but still have your separate lives."
"Funny how a promise you make at age ten can keep a hold of you."
"It's admirable, but the group is all adults now. You can lead your own life," Amelia suggested.
A troubling thought occurred to Amelia. Would Barton continue to put his brothers' and friends' needs before his wife and children's?
Her emotions must have displayed her thoughts because Barton reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. "When I marry, I'll honor my vows and put my wife first before all others."
"Please take your seats, everyone! All the food is on the table," Maggie announced, being the oldest and used to always being in charge of her seven siblings.
"The Brenners always hold hands when the food is blessed," Maggie looked around the table to be sure everyone was holding a hand on each side of them. "Peter, would you say grace for our food, please?"
Huh. Was Maggie interested in Peter? Apparently, because she was watching Peter talk instead of closing her eyes, which Amelia was doing too. Actually, everyone but Tobin, who had his eyes squeezed shut, was coyly looking at the person they were interested in.
Yes, the Peashooter Society's plan had certainly changed their routine this fall.
*
"May I walk you home, Amelia?" Barton asked, as the group finally decided to call it an evening. After the meal, the group had played the card games, Go Fish and Authors. The group was lively and animated, and Amelia could see them playing together as a group in years to come. Everyone got along, even Avalee, still pretending to have a fiancé, and quiet Gordon, her partner tonight.
"I'd like that. I was having so much fun. I didn't realize it had gotten so late."
"Will your father be on the porch waiting for me with his shotgun?" Barton teased.
"No, but I'm sure he's talked to Uncle Adam when he made his evening round about town at ten o'clock. As marshal, my uncle has kept an eye on all of us, so my parents know I'm
safe."
"Good to know. I guess," Barton grinned.
They bid the Brenners goodnight, noting that Peter and Tobin had insisted they stay to help the girls clean up, and then they made their way down the steps to the cool fall air outside.
The Paulson girls left for home before the other three men, leaving Amelia and Barton to stroll down the boardwalk alone at their own pace.
"What was it like growing up in Clear Creek?" Barton asked her.
"I assume it was much like growing up in your rural community. Everyone knows what you're up to, good or bad. Iva Mae, the oldest Paulson daughter, my school teacher and later my sister-in-law, was a big influence on me. I was lucky to have good role models, besides the Peashooter's."
"I haven't figured out the Paulson girls yet because they don't look alike."
"The oldest four all had different fathers. Iva Mae married my brother, Gabe. Maridell married and lives in Wilson. You've played cards across the table from Avalee, and the youngest of the original four, Luella, will be my sister-in-law when she marries Tate.
"You also know Nadine, but she looks nothing like her older sisters. Next in line is Daphne, then younger sisters Cecilia and Phoebe."
"Do you wish for a small or large family, Amelia?" Barton asked thoughtfully.
Amelia turned to study his face and knew it was important to Barton to have a family.
"Whatever the good Lord gives us is fine with me, but I'd prefer to have at least two children instead of just one child."
Oh, dear. She'd said us and hoped Barton didn't catch that.
His sidelong glance proved he did.
"I’m sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate—"
"That's all right, Amelia. I really like you, and the purpose of my move to Clear Creek was to settle down with a wife and family, the sooner the better. I'm anxious to have what I see so many couples in town have now. A loving spouse and children, in a caring community."
"Clear Creek has had its share of problems, just like any other place. The town is without a barber because of his family's bigotry against Kiowa and Mary."
"I heard about the fires the son caused. I don't know why people have to be mean to others, but I've experienced it too, just by being adopted."
Amelia Changes her Fellow Page 5
