An Old-Fashioned Christmas Romance Collection Page 5

  But Mr. Carter has been ill. I’ve no right to judge.

  He spotted Mr. Carter and Emma Leigh along with two of the boys daubing the north side of the small structure. As he grew closer, he saw the east side had already been completed. The sight pleased him; Emma Leigh need not carry all of the work on her frail shoulders.

  “Good evening,” Thad called heartily.

  Mr. Carter looked up and waved. “Good to see you, Thad.”

  “I dropped by to say hello. Looks like you’re busy.” He secured his horse and advanced at a sharp pace. The wind blew at a brisk speed, inviting a nasty chill up his spine. If he felt the cold, how badly did the others feel? “Evening, Emma Leigh.” He glanced at the other two boys but couldn’t remember their names.

  Emma caught his gaze and smiled knowingly. “The one beside me is Simon, and by Papa is Joseph.”

  Thad rubbed his hands together. “You folks got yourself a big job here.”

  Mr. Carter continued to work, the mud dropping from his fingers onto the cold ground. He’d mixed straw with it for durability. Normally moss and clay made the mud harder. “Yes we do. I started earlier today, and I think we’ll finish tonight.”

  “Can I offer a hand?” Thad said.

  “It’s not necessary,” her father said. His voice sounded raspy, and he coughed as though consumption nailed at his chest. Thad prayed not.

  “I’d like to talk to you, and I can say my words just as easily working.”

  Mr. Carter appeared to deliberate the matter. His pale skin alarmed Thad. The older man didn’t need to be in the cold.

  “I guess that will be fine,” Mr. Carter said.

  Thad peeled off his gloves and bent to stick his hands into a pile of dirt already dampened by water. Ice cold. All of them would be sick. Adding a little straw, Thad worked the mud, then slapped it up against a bare spot. He reached down and did the same thing again…and again.

  “So what did you want to talk about?” Mr. Carter said after another series of coughs.

  Thad figured Mr. Carter thought he’d come to ask about courting Emma Leigh, and the truth of the matter was the older man probably guessed correctly.

  “Well sir. The matter is rather delicate.”

  “I see.” He rubbed his nose. “Emma Leigh, you and your brothers go get us some more straw from the barn.”

  She nodded, but before she turned in the direction of the barn, a slow blush ascended her cheeks.

  After daubing another hole and making sure they were alone, Thad began. “Mr. Carter, I’d like permission to stop by now and then.”

  “For what reason?”

  Another handful of ice-cold mud hit against the wall. “To visit you and your family.”

  “I’m not so certain you’re being honest here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mr. Carter dipped into the mud and grabbed a handful of straw. “I mean I believe you want to court Emma Leigh, but you don’t want to ask me for permission because you’re leaving for school.”

  The sting of Mr. Carter’s words held more truth than Thad cared to admit. “I hadn’t considered the situation in that way.” He attempted to give the impression of studying the patched wall while he pondered Mr. Carter’s observations.

  “And how do you view it?” the older man said, taking a deep breath.

  Thad shrugged. “Friendship.”

  “Do you care about my daughter?” the man blurted out before he broke into another coughing spell.

  “Yes sir. We grew up together.”

  The coughing ceased. “Do you care for her in such a way that you’d expect her to wait while you’re studying to be a doctor?”

  For an ailing man, Mr. Carter didn’t mince words when speaking his mind. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Well, as her father, I’m saying you’d better decide about the future before talking to me about Emma Leigh.”

  Thad’s face reddened. “Are you telling me no?”

  “I’m saying I care too much for my little girl to have some fellow break her heart.”

  “I’d never hurt Emma Leigh!”

  “What do you think would happen if I give my permission for you to come visiting, then you up and left for Boston?”

  Thad realized how selfish he’d become. Bringing Emma Leigh gifts as a secret friend was a ruse for her affections. How despicable of him.

  “Mr. Carter, I apologize for not considering her feelings. I will not see her again unless I am prepared to make a decision about my future. I’d asked her to go skating with me on Sunday, but I see an afternoon together is not considerate of her feelings.”

  The older man neither smiled not frowned. “I see the way she looks at you. The damage may already be done. I’ll tell her she can’t attend on Sunday.”

  Emma Leigh approached Papa and Thad with the straw. Neither looked happy. Neither conversed with the other. What had happened? She’d so hoped Thad wanted to ask Papa if he could come courting. Lately she and Thad had found plenty to talk about, and her mind often wandered to dreams about him. Oh yes, she knew he needed to leave in the spring for Boston. But if they truly cared for each other and God meant for them to enjoy the special gift of love, then He’d show the way.

  Or am I acting foolishly?

  Why would Thad be interested in a poor girl with nothing to offer? And her family. Who would take care of them if Emma Leigh no longer had a job to help support them? She shouldn’t think about such things. Her life—everything about it—lay in God’s hands. Taking a cleansing breath, she lifted her head to the dark blue sky and smiled in the direction of Papa and Thad.

  “We have straw,” she said. “My, we’re already working on the final wall.”

  “Yes, we’ll be finished here shortly,” Papa said as he continued to daub the holes.

  “How good of you to help,” she said to Thad.

  He didn’t acknowledge her.

  “Thad needs to get home,” Papa said firmly. “Darkness is upon us, and we’re taking advantage of a good neighbor.”

  “Sir, I don’t mind seeing this to completion,” he said. “My aunt and uncle are not expecting me until late.”

  “And I would not want to abuse our good friendship with Albert and Klara by keeping you any later.” Papa stopped long enough to give Thad a steely glance. “Thank you, and may God bless your endeavors.”

  Emma Leigh watched Thad head down the road until he disappeared from sight. He’d been cordial when he left and taken the time to bid a proper good-bye to Mama and the younger ones, but something terrible must have happened between Papa and Thad.

  By kerosene light, she stole a glance at her father. She could tell by the determined set of his jaw she dare not interrupt his thoughts with questions. He coughed and spurted, the effort obviously draining his strength.

  “Papa, let Simon, Joseph, and me finish this,” she said, wanting to embrace him. He’d be angry if she touched him. She’d tried in times past and failed.

  “Not when we are this close to having the job done.”

  Emma Leigh chose not to respond. Most likely Papa would spend tomorrow in bed, and she intended to talk to Thad about this evening.

  Later on, Papa pulled her aside. “It’s not a good idea for you to attend any skating events with Thad Benson.”

  Her heart cried out for an explanation, but she must not be disrespectful.

  The next day she walked to work. Papa had a fever and his cough worsened. She trudged through the snow, praying to keep her mind from the cold and despair. At least she had gloves to keep her hands warm. Papa simply had to get better. She didn’t dare think of anything else.

  At the inn Thad avoided her, or so she thought. In the afternoon she stepped into the carriage house in hopes of finding him there, but he walked out with Baxter as soon as she entered. He greeted her kindly, but his gaze never met hers.

  Her secret friend once again remembered her. In the kitchen she found freshly churned butter. Although her spirits sank
with thoughts of home, she praised God for the food.

  The next day, she spied Thad with Sarah in the kitchen.

  “Do you have a moment to talk?” Her hands trembled, and she instantly thrust them behind her back.

  “I can’t right now, Emma Leigh. Perhaps later when my duties are completed. The Christmas guests are keeping me extremely busy.” Thad shifted from one foot to the other. He excused himself and stepped out into the cold wind.

  She swallowed her disappointment and glanced at the gift table. There sat a thimble. She remembered patching a shirt for Joseph without one and how her thumb had bled. The thought of anyone caring enough to give such useful gifts had brought tears to her eyes on more than one occasion. But the gifts didn’t ease the aching in her heart.

  Chapter 8

  On Saturday, Thad gave Emma Leigh the green wool scarf to match her gloves. Sarah had discovered he’d Emma Leigh’s name, so the cook reported the young woman’s reaction to his gifts.

  “Aye.” Sarah wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “I don’t believe she has ever been given such fine things.”

  “She has needed everything I’ve given her,” Thad said, genuinely pleased at Emma Leigh’s sentiment, even if he couldn’t talk to her like he wanted.

  “Your heart longs for her?” Rather than irritate, Sarah’s question soothed Thad’s turmoil over Mr. Carter’s ultimatum.

  He shrugged, not sure how to pose his reply.

  “Have ye talked to her father?”

  Thad nodded slowly and gazed up into her round face. “I can’t talk about it, Sarah, but I know you mean well.”

  She smiled sadly, and he believed she really understood. He pulled the beeswax candle from inside his jacket. “Would you make sure she finds this tomorrow? I shan’t be here until Monday.”

  Sarah agreed. “A prayer for your Miss Emma Leigh might help.”

  “I keep asking God for wisdom. Perhaps tomorrow, the Lord’s Day, He will give me some answers.”

  The next evening by firelight, Thad toiled over the small box where he’d begun a reddish-orange chrysanthemum. Aunt Klara had instructed him to outline the flowers in white and add leaves around it. The finishing touch would be a leaflike scroll outlined in the same reddish orange. All the while he worked at the painting, his mind spun with thoughts of Emma Leigh, his plans as a doctor, and what God intended for his life.

  “My dear boy, you look so troubled.” Aunt Klara placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. “Has something happened?”

  He glanced into the wrinkled face he’d grown to love. “I spoke with Mr. Carter the night I helped patch their cabin.”

  “About Emma Leigh?”

  “Yes ma’am. He doesn’t want me seeing her until I make a decision about my future.” Thad bent over the box, his heart heavy. “He doesn’t believe it fair for me to see her now and leave in a few months for school.”

  “I see,” Aunt Klara murmured.

  “Unfortunately, I agree with him.”

  She pulled a chair beside him close to the fire. “Do you love her?”

  “Yes, I most certainly do.”

  “God gives us the gift of love to glorify Him. He will help you find an answer.”

  Shaking his head, Thad released a pent-up sigh. “I listened very hard to the sermon this morning but heard nothing about what I must do. I’m spending extra time pondering over the scriptures and in prayer. Still, I’m confused.”

  “What is your dream?”

  He peered into the fire, listened to the cheerful sound of its crackle. “I would like to marry her and take her with me to Boston.” Simply speaking his secret longings aloud made him feel as though they threatened to vanish into ashes.

  Uncle Albert joined them by the fire, pulling a rocker near his wife. “Forgive me for listening, but Thad, why is this not possible?”

  For the first time, Thad realized how much his uncle resembled his father. Even his uncle’s deep voice and the gentleness reflected in his eyes reminded Thad of the man he sorely missed.

  “I have enough money saved for my tuition and to live meagerly—but certainly not with the lifestyle Emma Leigh deserves.”

  Uncle Albert cleared his throat. “What does the dear child have now? She works all day and goes home to take care of her family. Surely you could offer her more than she now receives.”

  Thad considered his uncle’s words. True, in being his wife, she would not exhaust herself day after day. Another realization saddened him. “Her father may refuse me because she supports the family.”

  “Surely not!” Aunt Klara said. “He is an honorable man.”

  Uncle Albert studied Thad. “Isn’t Mr. Carter improving?”

  “Slowly, but I believe he’s harboring a hard cough.”

  “Do any of us have anything we could offer to make their lives easier until he regains his strength?” Aunt Klara said.

  Thad straightened. A warm sensation spread through him. “I have no need for the seven cows and bull on my parents’ farm. Do you think if I offered them to Mr. Carter in return for him keeping a watchful eye on my land, it would help?”

  “An excellent idea,” Uncle Albert replied and chuckled. “You and I tire of keeping them milked, and I was going to suggest you sell them before you left for Boston.”

  “Perhaps the Carters could grow a season of crops there, too,” Thad continued. “Enough for them to eat and to sell.”

  Aunt Klara smiled, and her eyes moistened. “‘Tis an answer to prayer, Thad. See, God did hear your heart.”

  “I believe so,” he said, his heart picking up pace to match his new hope. “I’ll talk to Mr. Carter tomorrow.”

  Emma Leigh spotted Thad heading her way Sunday morning after church. For the first time since he’d helped patch her home, he smiled at her freely. She’d never learned what transpired that night, except Mama said it was best to not speak of it to Papa.

  To her dismay, as soon as church dismissed, she needed to help Mrs. Weares at the inn. Oh, for a day to help Mama with the children and not have to spend herself between responsibilities at work and at home. Mama said she felt fine and didn’t need an extra hand, but Emma Leigh still longed to give her mother a rest.

  The next morning she spotted Thad as she made her way into the inn.

  “Good morning,” Thad called with a wave.

  “Yes, it’s a beautiful morning.” Emma Leigh allowed herself one long look at him. The thought of his leaving in a few months for school grieved her—not because she regretted his desire to be a doctor. She’d simply miss him.

  “Are you excited about tomorrow’s Christmas Eve celebration?” he said, rubbing his gloved hands together.

  “For certain. I want to find out who my secret friend is so I can thank the person properly for all of my treasures.” She felt the familiar trembling that so often came these days whenever Thad was near. “But I do believe it is Mr. or Mrs. Jones. Who do you think has your name?”

  He laughed. “I’ve had sweet treats nearly every day. I’m convinced my secret friend is Sarah.” Thad’s gaze seemed to search her face. “You look very nice this morning.”

  She grew warm with his compliment. “Why, thank you. I feel wonderful on the inside.”

  “It shows,” he whispered.

  “Did you have a grand time skating?” At once, she wished she hadn’t brought up the canceled Sunday afternoon activity. No matter that Mr. Jones had asked her to work; she simply wished she could have been there with Thad.

  “I didn’t go.”

  “Why?” Do I dare think you wanted my company?

  He shuffled and dug his hands into his coat pockets. “Emma Leigh, I didn’t want to attend without you.”

  She gasped, unable to believe her ears. What had brought about the change in him?

  Silence prevailed, and for a rare moment, Emma Leigh couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Thad broke the silence. “Shall we see if we have anything in the kitchen?” Befor
e she had an opportunity to respond, he offered her his arm, and they walked up the back wooden steps of the inn.

  Inside the cozy kitchen where Sarah and her helper fried thick pieces of bacon and broke eggs into a huge wooden bowl, other staff members bustled about the gift table.

  “Ah, sweet bread,” Thad said, inhaling the tantalizing scent of apples and cinnamon. “Sarah, I know you must have my name—trying to fatten me up like a Christmas goose.”

  Sarah said nothing, but a smile caressed her lips.

  Emma Leigh glanced down to see a piece of delicately made bobbin lace, finer than anything she’d ever seen. “This is beautiful. I don’t know how I will ever be able to thank my secret friend.”

  “I imagine the smile on your face will be enough,” Thad said.

  She heard something in his voice, more tenderness than before. Could she hope for more than friendship?

  “Emma Leigh,” he began softly. “Do you have a moment?”

  Startled and pleased all in one breath, she agreed. “Of course. Would you like to walk with me to Mr. Jones’s office? I need to see him about the dinner tomorrow.”

  Thad opened the kitchen door, and the two stepped out into the huge front entrance of the inn. A floor-to-ceiling pine tree was decorated with crystal stars and angels, some of Mrs. Jones’s heirlooms from England. Neatly tied gold and red satin bows adorned its limbs. The scent—the fragrance of Christmas—swirled through the air.

  “I’d like to visit your father this evening, if you don’t have any objection,” Thad said.

  “I’m sure he will be pleased to see you.” Her heart fluttered, especially when she remembered Papa and Thad’s parting the last time.

  Thad glanced about. “I want to ask him if I can come courting.”

  Holding her breath, she feared she’d heard incorrectly.

  “I want to make sure this is something you want before I seek permission,” he said, his gaze fixed on the floor.