Mail Order Mommy. Christine Johnson
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her head, but she didn’t pull the napkin from her face. A giggle sneaked out.
Amanda heard the front door open, and she instinctively rose. Garrett had come here this morning needing help, and Fiona had outright refused. He must be devastated. Amanda glided to the hallway.
Garrett stared back at her, his gaze stormy. He whipped the cap off his head and crushed it in one hand. With his hair sticking up at a boyish angle and his expression anguished, he looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
She tried to take it all in. Garrett wanted to hire Fiona? Not marry her? What had changed? Whatever it was, Amanda felt the tension slip from her shoulders. He looked so uncomfortable standing there, like a boy whose dreams had been crushed. Her heart went out to him, and she took a step in his direction.
He backed up.
She tried to speak, but only a croak came out.
“Miss Porter.” He shoved the cap on his head, flung open the door and left, slamming the door behind him.
* * *
Garrett stood on the boardinghouse porch and drew in a deep breath of the icy December air. Stockton wanted an answer by nine o’clock, when they were to meet in the hotel dining room. The night before, the mill owner had asked Garrett to head up the building of a new ship, a schooner, that would bear Stockton’s name. Instead of slicing logs for other men to use, Garrett would build a sailing ship. The chance to create sparked something inside him. It didn’t hurt that the new position also came with a substantial increase in wages.
It also meant much longer hours.
With Roland marrying Pearl the day after Christmas, Garrett and the children had to move out of the quarters they’d shared with Roland since Eva’s death a year ago April. His brother and new wife needed a place of their own, and since the lodgings were located above the mercantile that Roland managed, it made sense for Garrett to move.
In the wee hours of the night, he’d come to a decision. He would ask Stockton for the empty house on Cherry Street as part of his compensation as chief shipwright. It was the right thing to do. It also meant he needed a housekeeper to take care of the place and watch over the children when they weren’t in school. Together, he and Roland had managed. Barely. Though Sadie helped as best she could, she had just turned seven. He didn’t want her near a hot stove. He couldn’t ask Roland’s new wife to take over. Pearl had enough to do already, teaching school and setting up housekeeping. No, he needed to hire someone.
Not marry. Despite Sadie’s school paper. Roland had shoved that tidbit at him last night, no doubt thinking it would change his mind. It didn’t. His brother didn’t understand that a bad wife was worse than no wife at all. Sadie just missed her mama. In time, those feelings would wane. Moreover, with Pearl joining the family, Sadie would have someone to turn to with questions.
Hiring help, on the other hand, didn’t carry the same risk. A bad housekeeper could be fired. A good one would ease the transition to a new house. He’d considered every married woman in town, but that numbered only three: Mrs. Calloway, Mrs. VanderLeuven and Mrs. Elder. None of them would do. Mrs. Calloway had her hands full running the boardinghouse. Mrs. VanderLeuven ran the hotel, and Mrs. Elder was ailing and abed most of the time.
That brought him to the three ladies hoping to gain his hand: Amanda, Fiona and Louise Smythe. The latter already worked for Mrs. Elder, narrowing the field to two. After careful consideration, he’d selected the best baker, but Fiona had jumped away from his offer like a dull saw hitting a hard knot.
He tugged off his cap and raked a hand through his hair. What was he going to do?
The answer was both obvious and gut-wrenching.
He looked to the pale blue sky. Lord, are You forcing me into this?
He wasn’t ready to spend any time with a woman who reminded him too much of his late wife. It sure didn’t help that the children adored her, in spite of the fact that she’d lost track of Sadie in the fire last month that burned down the schoolhouse. Amanda’s inattention had nearly caused his daughter’s death. No, he was not ready to face Amanda Porter, but he didn’t have much choice. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and grasped the knob.
Lord, help me.
He would need it.
* * *
Amanda didn’t need any more proof that Garrett Decker felt nothing for her. At the mere sight of her, he ran.
She touched a hand to her hair. It seemed perfectly in place. She moved closer to the door, where a small mirror hung on the wall. No stray curl stuck out at an odd angle. No crumbs or irksome blemishes dotted her face. Her dress was the same modest plum gown he’d seen countless times. It had been recently laundered and pressed. In every respect she looked the same as always.
Yet he found her presence distasteful ever since the schoolhouse fire. Pearl assured her time and again that she’d explained to Garrett what had happened that day, how Amanda had struggled to keep the children together. They’d been so frightened when she hurried them out of the schoolhouse and marched them up the hill away from the blaze. She’d been so busy with the little ones entrusted to her care that she hadn’t noticed Sadie was missing. How had she missed that?
She swayed and put a hand against the wall to steady herself.
On that terrible day, she had nearly lost her dearest friend and the little girl she loved. From that moment forward, Garrett had stopped talking to her. He no longer asked her to watch the children. Fiona claimed that role.
Amanda glanced toward the staircase. What had happened between Garrett and Fiona? Instead of the proposal she had expected, Fiona had loudly refused to be hired. Why would Garrett need to hire a woman? Not for the sawmill. Pearl’s laughter had made that clear. Maybe Roland needed help at the store and had sent Garrett on the errand. Then why not offer the position to Amanda? Pearl knew how badly she needed work. Moreover, she had worked at the store once last summer. Fiona had not. Did Garrett mistrust her so much that he wouldn’t even recommend her for a job at the mercantile?
Amanda nibbled her lip.
Pearl joined her. “What did Garrett say?”
“Nothing. He left.”
“That’s curious.”
“Does Roland need help at the store?”
“Not that I know of. Why would you ask?”
“Because Fiona refused whatever job Garrett offered her. You heard her.”
The front door burst open. Amanda leaped back at the cold rush of air. Garrett paused in the doorway, looking alternately at her and Pearl.
“Come in or leave,” Pearl scolded, “but don’t stand there with the door open. Mrs. Calloway will wring your neck for letting out the warmth.”
Garrett stepped inside, closed the door and removed his cap. His ruggedly handsome face glowed red, though Amanda couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the cold.
“I’m sorry, Miss Pearl.” He turned the cap around and around in his hands.
Amanda stepped back, ready to bolt for her room, but Pearl caught her arm and would not let her retreat.
“Did you wish to speak with someone?” Pearl asked. “Fiona, perhaps?”
He shook his head, gaze averted, and cleared his throat. “I wondered...” Again he cleared his throat.
“What did you wonder?” Pearl prompted.
He peeked at Amanda before lowering his gaze again. “Might I speak with Miss Porter?” He crushed the cap in his hands.
“Of course. Amanda would be glad to speak with you. Why don’t you two go into the parlor?” Pearl pushed her toward the parlor door.
Amanda’s heart pounded. Garrett wanted to speak to her? And he was having difficulty speaking? Why? He shouldn’t