Mail-Order Bride Switch. Dorothy Clark
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She swallowed back a fresh spate of tears at the woman’s kindness, grabbed hold of the sheet and copied Mrs. Fuller’s actions. “But what do I do with all of this extra fabric?”
“Have you ever wrapped a present?”
“Yes, of course. But...” She stared at the bed, then looked up at the woman standing across from her. “You’re saying I should wrap the mattress?”
The blue eyes fastened on her warmed. “Exactly. Let me show you.”
She could have hugged the woman. “How very kind of you.”
“Not at all, my dear. I’m happy to help. First, you tuck the extra length of sheet at the top between the mattress and the one beneath it that rests on the ropes.” Mrs. Fuller slid her arm under the top mattress, lifted it, then used her other arm to sweep the extra linen between that mattress and the one beneath it. She copied the older woman’s actions on her side of the bed.
“Good! Now, we go to the bottom of the bed, pull the sheet nice and tight, then tuck it under as we did at the top. And then we’ll do the same on the sides.” Mrs. Fuller edged along between the bed and the wall smoothing the sheet with one hand and tucking it under the mattress with the other.
She glanced over at the wrinkle-free linen on Mrs. Fuller’s side of the bed, frowned down at her side. “What did you do at the corners? Mine are all puckered.”
“I folded them—like you do on a present.” The older woman came to her side and demonstrated.
“Oh. I see.” She fixed the other corner, slid her palm over the perfectly smooth sheet and smiled. “And I do the top sheet and blankets the same way?”
“Yes, except you tuck all of the extra length under at the bottom.”
She nodded and spread the other sheet over the bed. Making it even with the edge of the mattress at the top, she tucked the extra length under at the foot of the bed. Satisfaction surged when Mrs. Fuller nodded and smiled. She reached for a blanket.
The older woman removed her hat and cloak and placed them in the wardrobe. “Whisper Creek must be a very small town if there is no one to hire for a maid.”
“Yes. I only arrived last night, but Garret said there is a general store, an apothecary shop, a church and—” she finished tucking the blanket in and straightened “—and something else...oh yes, a sawmill. And a laundry in the woods at the edge of town.”
“Well, that’s helpful. There are a lot of linens to be washed for a hotel of this size.”
She shook the coverlet out over the bed, then stopped and stared at Mrs. Fuller. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Thank You, Lord, for the laundry.
The older woman smoothed back the dark, graying hair at her temples, tugged at her faded dress. “It’s getting close to midday. What time is dinner served?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Garret.” Her cheeks heated. Mrs. Fuller must think her a complete dolt. “As I said, I only arrived in Whisper Creek last night. We were married shortly after my arrival.”
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