Mail Order Mommy. Christine Johnson

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      Fiona swept from the room, and the men followed, a cinnamon roll in each hand. That left Amanda alone with Pearl.

      “It’s over then,” Amanda whispered. “He’s chosen her.”

      Pearl slipped a piece of paper from between the covers of her record book and slid it across the table. “You have one advantage that she will never have.”

      In a glance Amanda could tell that it was one of the student papers that Pearl had collected yesterday. The children were to write about what they most wanted for Christmas. Pearl had supplied her own stationery for the assignment, so each paper looked more like a letter. The signature on this one made Amanda catch her breath. Sadie. Garrett’s daughter.

      The words drove a knife through her heart.

      Can Jesus bring a nu mama? Mis Mana pleez.

      This time she could not stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. That poor little girl had lost her mother in a tragic accident nearly two years ago. That she wanted a new mama was understandable. That she wanted Amanda made her heart ache. Amanda wanted that, too. How she wanted to be Sadie and Isaac’s mother, but wishing didn’t make things true.

      “It’s too late.” Amanda pushed the assignment back across the table to Pearl.

      Pearl placed it inside the record book again. “I showed it to Roland last night. He said he would tell his brother after the children fell asleep.”

      “He did?” Hope blossomed. Could Garrett have called on Fiona this morning to break off their attachment? “Do you think it’s possible that—”

      “Hire me?” Fiona’s screech carried into the dining room and cut off Amanda’s thought. “I am not hired help.”

      Footsteps raced down the hallway and stomped up the staircase. A door slammed.

      Pearl’s eyebrows lifted even as a grin teased her lips. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

      Interesting was not the word Amanda would have used. Shocking. Startling. Completely unexpected. Hire Fiona? What on earth for?

      Amanda looked to Pearl for answers. “Why would they need a woman at the sawmill?” Not to mention that Fiona would never ever work in a sawmill.

      Pearl pressed a napkin to her face, clearly trying to hide the fact that she was laughing.

      “What is it? What do you know that I don’t?”

      Pearl shook 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 СКАЧАТЬ