Courting Miss Callie. Dorothy Clark
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He listened to her soft footfalls hurrying toward the hotel and let his smile free. He’d done it. His hard work had earned him employment with Sophia Sheffield and, more importantly, the opportunity to get to know Callie Conner. The way she had looked this morning... He yanked his thoughts from the memory, spun on his heel and headed for Star’s stall.
* * *
Callie stiffened at the opening of the door. It was too soon for Sophia to return from her trip to the post office, and Joe never came to the kitchen except for meals. It had to be Ezra. Presumptuous of him to enter without knocking. Warmth climbed into her cheeks at the memory of him holding her so close earlier. If he thought...
She turned from stirring the stew simmering over the fire, the spoon she’d been using held like a weapon in front of her. “Aunt Sophia!” She glanced at the basket on Sophia’s arm. It was empty. “You’re back early. Is something wrong?”
Her aunt placed the basket on the table, removed her bonnet and looked across the kitchen at her. “I chanced to meet Doctor Palmer on my way to the mercantile. Charlotte Deering had her baby early. She had a rough time of it.”
Concern shot through her. “Is Charlotte all right? And the baby?”
“Thankfully, yes.” Sophia draped her shawl over a chair and smoothed back her hair. “Doctor Palmer decided to check on her last night on his way home from a call at the Hoffmans. She’d been in labor all day and was weak and exhausted. The baby was in the wrong position. She never could have birthed it on her own. He said it was a near thing, but he was able to save them both—though the baby is only a little scrap of a thing.”
“Thank the good Lord Doctor Palmer chanced to stop by.”
“Yes. He says Charlotte has to stay in bed until she mends or she could bleed to death, and that she has no one to do for her or her little ones. Charley’s gone downriver with the rafts.”
Tears stung her eyes at the thought of the young woman’s plight. “Perhaps we could bring Charlotte and the children here and I could care for her. She could have my bed and—” Shock turned her mute when Sophia shook her head. Her aunt was the most generous person she’d ever known. Why would she refuse?
“I offered to bring Charlotte and the children here, but Doctor Palmer said it would not be safe to move her. So, I told him I would send meals and see the chores are taken care of meanwhile. But we must hurry. Charlotte is alone with those small children. What have you on hand?”
She should have known. She smiled as Sophia joined her and glanced down at the pot of food hanging over the fire.
“That’s venison stew. And there’s bread and apple butter. And I’m sure the children would like some doughnuts.” She pointed to the crusty, brown rounds draining on the slotted rack resting atop the dishpan she used to mix the dough for bread.
“Wonderful. The stew should help Charlotte regain her strength. And those little ones— Yes, Cora?”
“There’s two gentlemen want rooms, Mrs. Sheffield. And Mr. Betz is wanting to leave. He’s got Mr. Totten holding the trolley out front for him.” The maid scuttled back to her work.
“Oh, bother!” Sophia scowled and headed for the hallway that led to the front of the hotel. “Gather the food into a basket, Callie—and don’t forget oatmeal and a bit of sugar. Sweetened oatmeal water might keep the baby alive until Charlotte is able to nurse him. Oh, and take extra broth from the stew. Get as much of it into Charlotte as you can.”
“Me?”
Sophia paused at the door, turned to look at her. “Why, yes. I cannot leave the hotel. Now, hurry, dear. Ezra will be bringing the shay for you any moment. Tell him I said he’s to wait and bring you home. He can occupy himself doing any heavy chores. And don’t hurry, dear. Wait until you have those children in bed for the night before leaving. I’ll manage supper. It won’t be the first time.”
“But—” she stopped, shook her head and picked up a large, wicker basket off the floor at the end of the fireplace.
“What is it, dear?”
“Nothing really. It’s only that I thought Ezra would be gone by now.”
“Oh. He did an excellent job on the stalls. I’ve asked him to stay.”
Chapter Five
Callie clutched the hastily assembled bundle in her arms and hurried down the path. If she were quick enough, she could climb into the shay before Ezra could secure the basket on the shelf in back and come around to assist her. Since it was certain he would. The man’s manners were faultless. But, after this morning, she was leery of letting him hand her into the vehicle. Not that he’d done anything wrong. Far from it.
She laid the bundle on the seat, gripped the dashboard, placed her booted foot on the small iron rung and stepped up. Ezra’s actions had been innocent enough—even heroic, saving her from a possible burn. And he had made no attempt to take advantage of the situation—as her wealthy suitors would have done. For that she was grateful. Still, the thought of her hand in his was unsettling. The man made her nervous. Which was odd, since she had no such reaction to the wealthy men courting her. Indeed, she had become quite adept at escaping their advances without causing offense. Her father had cautioned that she was not to offend the suitors he permitted to call. After all, it might lower their bid for her hand.
The bitter thought stole the luster from the sunny day. She frowned, shook out her long skirts, settled herself and lifted the bundle onto her lap. The shay trembled as the weight of the basket hit the shelf and the attached straps were tugged tight around it. Ezra’s boots crunched on the gravel. A flutter rippled through her stomach. She stole a sidelong glance as he stepped to the hitching post. There was no sign of a limp. And the swelling on his head was gone—though the scab of the healing gash was visible at his crown. What was the truth about Ezra Ryder? He was no more a logger than she. Why did he lie? He turned toward the shay, the freed reins held in his hand, and she jerked her gaze from him. Heat crept into her cheeks. And of what concern were Ezra Ryder’s doings to her? She had troubles enough of her own to ponder. She straightened in the seat and pulled her burnoose close about her.
The vehicle dipped left as Ezra stepped up, ducked beneath the hood and took his seat. His shoulder brushed against hers. She scooted as far right as possible in the narrow space and looked straight ahead, wishing that Sophia had ordered the carriage brought around instead of the smaller shay.
“Ready?”
She glanced over and met Ezra’s smiling gaze. Another flutter tickled her stomach. She must have been feeling more confined since her arrival than she realized if the prospect of a simple ride to the country brought such a reaction. She pressed the bundle hard against her abdomen to stop the sensation and nodded. “Yes.”
He made a clicking sound and shook the reins. Star moved forward and the shay rolled along the graveled way to the entrance to Main Street and stopped. “You’ll have to direct me, Callie. All I know of Pinewood is the wooden walkway between Cargrave’s Mercantile and your aunt’s hotel.”
She looked away from his smile. There was something of the little boy in it that made her want to trust him, and she’d trust a liar as far as a pig could fly. “We go left, then turn right onto Oak Street.” She gestured across the road a short way up Main Street from the hotel. “It’s there, beyond the gazebo.”
A wagon loaded with bundles of thick, wood shingles rumbled by, headed toward Olville. She held herself immobile as Ezra flicked the reins and urged Star out onto Main Street in the wagon’s wake.
Olville. In the concern and bustle over Charlotte, she’d forgotten about Sophia’s trip. Relief stole the tension from her body. Sophia would not be going to Olville today, and the Citizen was only printed on Fridays. She was safe for another week.
Star’s hooves thudded against the drying mud of the roadbed. The shay swayed around the corner