Mail Order Mommy Page 6
Amanda smiled, and warmth spread through him. She approved. That was amazing enough, but even more startling was how much he enjoyed that approval. What was happening to him?
He took a bite of the hash and choked.
“What is it?” She looked horrified.
He swallowed without chewing more than necessary and washed down the rest with half of the cup of water in front of him.
“It’s...different.”
She took a small taste, and the expression of horror intensified.
“It’s salty,” Isaac pointed out.
“Thank you, son.” Garrett motioned for him to say nothing further while Amanda guzzled water.
Sadie, always a dainty eater, picked out little pieces of onion and ate them as if there was nothing wrong with the hash.
Amanda recovered. “Oh, dear. I added too much salt, but Mrs. Calloway said everything needs salt.”
“Except perhaps salt pork,” Garrett said.
She looked mortified. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know how to fix it.”
Garrett had learned a few tricks from those days when Roland was busy and he had to cook something for the children, mostly because he made a lot of mistakes. He grabbed the skillet and stood. “We’ll dilute it.”
* * *
We? Amanda rose and set her napkin on the table. Garrett Decker was helping her?
She followed him the few steps to the kitchen. Her face must be flaming red. It certainly felt that way. How could she have made such a blunder? Mrs. Calloway had suggested she taste before serving. With the fiasco over the burned potatoes and Sadie’s distress, Amanda had forgotten that all important tip.
Now she stood beside Garrett at the kitchen worktable. It was such a small surface that their arms nearly touched.
“Get a bowl from the cupboard,” he commanded.
When she picked out a soup bowl, he sent her back for a serving bowl. Then he scraped the salty hash into it.
“Chop two more potatoes,” he said. “Did you get any other vegetables, like carrots?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. We’ll add four of those, too. Chop them fine so they cook quickly.”
She could figure out that much, but considering her record tonight, she didn’t think it wise to mention.
Meanwhile, the children watched every move with wide eyes. Isaac crawled onto his chair and leaned across the table to whisper something to Sadie. She giggled. Dear me, even the children found her efforts humorous.
“Isaac, bring your plates here. Then bring ours.” Garrett then added the contents to the bowl on the worktable.
Amanda finished peeling and chopping the potatoes and carrots. Garrett added a little of the hash to the skillet and then had her add the raw vegetables. When they had gotten tender, he added a bit more of the hash and stirred it all together. After it heated, he had her taste the mixture.
“A little bland,” she reported.
He added more of the salty hash and then a little more until it tasted just right.
“How did you learn to do that?” she marveled.
“From experience. The best teacher.” He smiled at her. “The same thing happened to me once.”
His words were intended to comfort, but his smile went a lot further. She had hardly ever seen Garrett Decker smile. He was the sorrowing widower, never pleased with anyone or anything. Even in church or when escorting Fiona to the hotel dining room, he hadn’t smiled. Only with his children did he smile. It changed him so much, from a rigid, dour perfectionist to a compassionate man.
Amanda breathed out. “You have a beautiful smile.”
It instantly vanished. “Everyone’s hungry. Let’s eat.”
* * *
Amanda reveled in what had happened long after she returned to the boardinghouse and settled into bed. Her mind whirled round and round, going over the events in minute detail. Garrett hadn’t yelled at her. He’d worked with her. He’d shown her consideration and compassion. He’d granted her leniency. He’d smiled at her.
The sheets being cold, she blew on her icy fingers and wiggled her toes, trying to warm them.
“Could you be still?” Pearl grumbled. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”
For a second Amanda tried to imagine not having to share a room and a bed with her friend, who was every bit as dear as a sister. No one to complain when she moved around in bed. No one who knew every little thing about her. Just like it had been at the Chatsworths. She shuddered. Pearl meant everything to her. With her married and gone, Amanda would no longer have someone at the ready to hear about every moment of her day and give her advice and consolation.
“I will miss you,” she whispered.
“Me, too. Now go to sleep.” Pearl’s muffled tones came from beneath the pillow that she’d jammed over her head.
“I’m sure Roland will want to talk at night, too.”
Pearl rolled over and emerged from beneath the pillow. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you pestering me?”
“I can’t sleep after what happened today.”
“Oh?” Now she’d caught Pearl’s attention. “What happened today?”
Amanda hedged, not quite ready to explain everything. “Did you know that Garrett has a lovely smile?”
“Hmm. I suppose so.”
“He should smile more often.”
“Why don’t you tell him, and let me get some sleep?” Pearl plunked the pillow over her head again.
Amanda quieted, but she couldn’t imagine going up to Garrett and telling him to smile more. Just mentioning the smile had turned it to a frown, as if that smile had been in error. “He doesn’t want to hear it.”
Pearl said nothing.
Amanda glanced in her direction, but in the darkness couldn’t tell if her friend was sleeping. Her thoughts drifted back to the hours with Garrett. He’d been kind today, so different from the day before.
“I made a mess of supper tonight,” she whispered. “I burned it terribly and then added too much salt. It tasted awful, but he didn’t yell, like he did yesterday. He told me he’d done the very same thing.”
“He did?” Pearl slid out from under the pillow, definitely more interested.
“He did. Like all was forgiven. He’s never been like that with me before. Oh, he liked to talk about Sadie and Isaac, ask about school and all that, but never take my feelings into consideration. It was almost like he wouldn’t look at me. Not today.” Amanda sighed. “Did you ever notice that his eyes are more gray than blue?”
“What does that have to do with anything? Roland’s eyes are blue, too. They’re brothers.”
“Yes, but Garrett’s eyes are grayer. And his hair is much lighter, with that bit of red in it. He and Roland don’t look much alike.”
Pearl groaned. “This is what’s keeping you awake?”
Amanda ignored her friend. “And his hair has this way of sticking out like a little boy’s. It takes all my self-control not to smooth down the cowlicks.”
“I can imagine how he would react if you did that.”
“Definitely not with a smile.” Amanda giggled. “I think this new job will turn out well, as long as I don’t let the children distract me too much.”
“Then it’s hopeless.”
“Hopeless?”
“I’ve never known you not to be distracted by children.”
Amanda heaved a sigh. “It’s a fault of mine.”
Pearl squeezed her shoulder. “It’s a testament to your caring nature. I’m glad Garrett finally noticed that. Maybe he’s finally coming around to see the treasure you are. Fiona will regret turning down the position.”
“Does she still have her cap se
t on Garrett?”
“You can be sure of it. She asked if she could help with the stable that I asked Garrett to build for the children’s nativity play.”
“The what?”
“Garrett didn’t tell you about it?”
“No,” Amanda said hesitantly. “Was he supposed to?”
“I asked Roland to make sure Garrett talked to you so you two could figure out what needed to be done.”
At first Amanda wondered why Pearl didn’t just tell her herself, but the answer was obvious. Pearl was trying to get her and Garrett together as much as possible. But having her help build a stable made no sense. “Talk to me? Why? I can’t use a hammer.”
“No, but you can decorate the stable and make costumes for the children.”
“Decorate it? I don’t think the stable that Joseph and Mary used was decorated.”
“I’m thinking more along the lines of toy animals. You know, the lambs and the sheep and so forth.”
Amanda gasped. “That’s a lot of fabric and a lot of something or other to stuff them.”
“It’s been so warm and dry of late that I’m thinking we could make a day of it and gather dried grasses. Maybe invite Roland, Garrett and the children. Roland already told me that he will donate some old flour sacks and muslin. It’ll be wonderful.”
Amanda wasn’t so certain, but the idea of working anywhere near Garrett overcame her hesitation. Perhaps he was beginning to forgive her for losing track of Sadie during the fire. Perhaps he could begin to trust her. A Christmas nativity would be lovely, especially with the children involved.
“What are the children going to do?”
“Play the roles of the shepherds, angels and Mary and Joseph.”
Amanda could guess who Pearl had pegged for the parents of Jesus, but she had to ask, anyway. “Who’s playing Mary and Joseph?”
Pearl murmured, “Sadie and Isaac. It will help convince Garrett to build the stable. Now go to sleep. I have a busy day of school tomorrow, and I’m expecting you to help out.”
Amanda couldn’t begin to think of sleeping. Her mind whirled with everything that had happened today and would happen over the coming weeks. Pearl’s wedding. Pearl moving to the rooms above the store. Amanda’s new job. Garrett warming to her. So much joy.
The only thing missing was her brother. When she’d learned this autumn that a lumberjack named Jake was working upriver, she’d thought at once of her lost brother. The man fit Jacob’s description. She’d waited day after day for this lumberjack to arrive in Singapore with the last logs rafted down the river, but he’d headed for the camps up north instead. That opportunity had slipped away.
Perhaps this one with Garrett wouldn’t. Now they would work together on the nativity play.
No doubt Pearl and Roland had arranged this “project” in order to get Amanda and Garrett together. After today, that didn’t seem like such a hopeless prospect. Garrett was beginning to treat her with compassion and respect, something she enjoyed but was having trouble accepting. If she did a great job with not only the curtains for his house but also the costumes for the nativity play, maybe he’d forget about Fiona and begin considering her for a wife. Maybe. Just maybe. As long as he never learned about her past.
Chapter Six
Saturdays gave Amanda more time to work on her sewing projects. For the last week, she’d cut and basted and sewed Pearl’s wedding dress in every spare moment. By this afternoon, she switched to making Garrett’s curtains, in case Pearl returned to the boardinghouse early.
Curtains should take no time at all, but the treadle sewing machine was finicky to operate. The bobbin kept snarling, and she would have to stop and take apart what she’d just done and start over. She’d run into the same problems when making the dress and doll dress for Sadie this past August, but it was still faster than sewing every seam by hand. For the trickier parts, she still preferred hand-stitching, but she kept the curtains simple.
“No ruffles or lace,” Garrett had said.
So that’s what she did. She would not risk the progress she’d made with him over something as unimportant as curtains. Though he hadn’t smiled at her again the rest of the week, he had been most cordial. Her supper offerings had improved, thanks to Mrs. Calloway’s coaching, and he had complimented Amanda on them.
She dearly hoped these curtains would continue to elevate her in his esteem.
With Sadie’s prompting, Amanda had chosen a serviceable muslin fabric in a pretty yellow color with tiny flowers. The fact that Sadie picked it out would go a long way toward winning Garrett’s approval if he thought the color or pattern too dainty. It would also brighten the rooms, which were terribly dark, between the ponderous walnut furniture and the unpainted walls. It was a leased cottage, she had to remind herself, nothing like the Chatsworths’ home or even the three-story orphanage.
“A tablecloth would help brighten things, too,” she said aloud to no one but herself. If she cut the cloth precisely, she might have enough left over to make one.
“Brighten things where?”
The masculine voice made her pause the treadle and look up. Garrett stood in the entrance to the writing room where Mrs. Calloway housed the sewing machine. Amanda had not expected to see him this Saturday afternoon, since he had given her the day off until suppertime.
“You’re not with the children?”
“They’re spending the afternoon with Roland and Pearl,” he pointed out. “What are you making?”
Amanda turned back to her sewing. “These are the curtains for your house.”
She heard him step into the room until he stood just a few steps behind her. “They are bright.”
“Sadie and I thought they looked like sunshine.”
He didn’t respond right away.
She glanced back.
He looked down at the hat in his hands. “I suppose you’re right, but they’re...bright.”
“Cheerful. They make me smile, especially knowing how much Sadie liked the fabric.”
As expected, that wore away the last of his resistance. “You really did ask Sadie to help you pick out the cloth.”
“Of course. She has excellent taste, especially when it comes to color. You must have noticed that she’s quite the little artist.”
He didn’t answer.
Again Amanda paused long enough to glance back. He was frowning. Why? “Do you disapprove of artists?”
“It’s not very useful.”
“Sometimes the most important things in life are not useful. Beauty lifts our spirits.”
If anything, he looked more uncomfortable.
“A tablecloth would only get stained,” he said gruffly.
“It could also teach the children to take care when eating.” She didn’t mention Garrett’s tendency to shovel food in his mouth as fast as possible. She’d seen starving children do the same thing in the orphanage. Perhaps he’d had to battle Roland for enough to eat. “Were you poor when you were growing up?” The moment she said the words, she regretted them.
Garrett’s complexion darkened, and she steeled herself for a rebuke.
Instead he denied it. “No. Not at all.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
He walked over to the window. Already the light was low. Soon darkness would settle over the land. “Forget it.”
She searched for another subject. “You must have come here today for a reason.”
He cleared his throat. “Roland and Pearl insisted I speak to you about the project they have for me. Us.”
She had forgotten. “The stable?”
“I don’t need help. I’ll cut the sheep from wood.”
“That would work, but they won’t be very nice for the children to cuddle.” When Pearl had first broa
ched the idea, Amanda had imagined the children holding the lambs and perhaps even taking them home.
“Cuddle? I thought this was a depiction of the nativity.”
Amanda bit her tongue. Garrett was right. This was a holy, solemn moment. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. But how will we make them look like the animals? I don’t know anyone with paints.”
“I do.” Fiona swept into the room. “The moment Garrett told me about the project I sent for my painting supplies. They should be on the next mail boat from Chicago.”
“You paint pictures?” Amanda had to shut her gaping mouth.
Fiona smiled indulgently. “Singing is not my only talent. In the theater, one becomes accomplished in many arts.”
Amanda wondered why she’d never mentioned this before, especially when watching Sadie, who loved to draw.
Fiona had turned her attention away from Amanda and lavished it on Garrett. “You look quite handsome tonight.”
For the first time, Amanda noticed that Garrett was wearing his Sunday suit and good coat. He carried a felt bowler rather than the cap he wore when working in cold weather. His hair was combed into place, and he’d shaved.
He extended an arm to Fiona. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” she purred, casting a triumphant glance at Amanda. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”
Amanda turned back to her sewing and pretended to work. Almost immediately the bobbin thread snarled. Still, she worked the treadle, making the knot worse and worse. Only when she was certain Garrett and Fiona had left did she stop. The mass of knotted thread would take forever to untangle, but not as long as her foolish hopes.
* * *
Garrett felt awful from the moment he stepped into the boardinghouse and Mrs. Calloway sent him to the writing room. The woman clearly thought he was there for Amanda. The fact that she was working on curtains for his house only made things worse.
He should have explained that he’d agreed weeks ago to escort Fiona to her Saturday concert, when Sawyer Evans, her accompanist who usually walked her to the hotel, asked him for the favor. Sawyer had left this morning for Chicago to meet up with family ahead of the holidays.