The Christmas Bargain (25 page)

Staring at the telegram on top of his desk, he felt Harlan’s hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, boss? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Luke said, raking a hand through his perfectly combed hair, sending it flying every direction. Digging in his pocket for a coin, he handed it to Horace and thanked him for delivering the message.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Harlan asked once Horace left. “You look a mite pale. Did you receive some bad news?”

Luke swallowed then nodded.

“How bad is it?”

“The worst,” Luke said with a sigh, rolling his eyes heavenward, praying for deliverance. “My mother is coming to visit.”

Harlan laughed and returned to his desk. “That explains a lot. When is she due to arrive?”

Luke picked up the message and read it again.

MERRY CHRISTMAS SON STOP ARRIVING DECEMBER TWENTY TWO ON AFTERNOON STAGE STOP SEE YOU THEN STOP LOVE DAD STOP

Getting up so fast, he knocked over his chair, Luke grabbed his Stetson and slapped it on his head. Ramming one arm into a coat sleeve, he yelled, “today!” as he ran out the door toward home realizing it was, in fact, the twenty-second of December.

Anyone watching the town’s banker run pell-mell through town might have thought Granger House was aflame. Bursting through the kitchen door, Luke hollered, “Filly!” as he flung off his coat and hat, not bothering to hang them up.

Mrs. Kellogg ran out of the laundry room, a wet towel hanging from her hand. “Mr. Granger, lands sakes. Whatever is the matter?”

“Where’s Filly? I need her now,” he said, glancing around the kitchen, expecting his wife to materialize out of thin air.

“She just returned from visiting Mrs. Dodd. She said she was going to put away a few things and then be ready to serve you lunch.”

Luke ran down the hall to the bathroom, but the door was open. Backtracking, he opened Filly’s bedroom door only to find an empty room.

“Filly,” he yelled again. “Filly!”

Hurrying down the hall, he checked the parlor, the library and even his bedroom. Racing up the back stairs he glanced across the second floor hall to see all the doors shut. He was about to head out to the barn when he heard a noise overhead and yanked open the attic door.

“Filly! Are you up there?” he bellowed up the stairs, holding his hands around his mouth so the noise would carry farther. A loud thump followed by a muffled shriek drew him up the stairs, two at a time.

Despite his sense of urgency to make ready for his mother, Luke stopped as he stepped into the room and doubled over in laughter.

“You blathering fool, come help me out of here,” Filly said from her position wedged bottom first into an open trunk. Her feet in the air, Luke got a generous view of stocking clad legs and a frothing of lace-edged petticoats.

Barely able to stand, let alone be of assistance, Luke continued laughing while Filly’s glare shot daggers of annoyance his direction.

“If you hadn’t bellowed like a bull in the chute up the stairs, you wouldn’t have frightened me and I wouldn’t have tripped and fallen into this blasted trunk,” Filly said sharply. “Now stop your laughing and get me out.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Luke took her hands in his and pulled. “I don’t think you are in any position to be making demands, Filly girl.”

“Be that as it may,” Filly said as Luke hauled her upright, “it is still your fault. Suppose you tell me what has you all in a dither.”

“I just got a telegram that dad and mother are coming for Christmas,” Luke said, watching as Filly tugged her skirt to straighten it.

“That’s wonderful,” Filly said, plans whirring through her head at this welcome news.

Turning her to look at him, he had to make two things perfectly clear to his wife. “It isn’t wonderful news, not in the least. First of all, I haven’t gotten around to telling them I’m married. And second, when they do find out, they’ll expect us to be really married, sharing a room like a happily married couple.”

“Oh,” Filly said, her eyes wide as she soaked in what Luke was saying.

“The other little problem is that they are arriving today,” Luke said quietly, hoping to soften the blow.

“What?” Filly said, her voice raising a good octave in volume. “Good heavens!” Picking up her skirts, she ran down the stairs, followed closely by Luke.

“Filly? Filly! Where are you going?” Luke asked as he grabbed her arm before she ran down to the main floor.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m running away until after they are gone,” Filly looked at him soberly, but a twinkle in her eyes gave away her teasing.

Putting his arms around her waist and giving her a quick hug, he pulled back and swatted her backside. “You shouldn’t tease me like that, especially when I’ve had such an unexpected bit of news.”

“I know, but I couldn’t help myself,” Filly said, taking Luke’s hand and hurrying down the stairs. Arriving in the kitchen, she stopped long enough to dish up their lunch, which they hurriedly ate. Afterward, Filly sent Mrs. Kellogg to the mercantile with a list of supplies.

 Luke quickly began the business of moving his things out of the downstairs guest room up to the master bedroom. While he was doing that, Filly opened the room’s windows to air it out, changed the bedding and managed to put together an arrangement of greens to sit on the dresser, adding a bit of festive flair to the room. When the last of Luke’s things were out, Filly slammed the window shut and they looked around the room critically. It was ready for the arrival of his parents.

Filly, however, was not. When Luke opened her bedroom door and started racing up the stairs with an armful of her gowns, she tried to stop him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, flabbergasted.

“You can’t stay down here,” Luke said, grabbing another armful of gowns. “You’ve got to move into the master bedroom as well.”

Spluttering, Filly stared after him. Running up the stairs, she jerked at his arm. “But, Luke, we can’t…I can’t…we aren’t…”

“You know that, and I know that, and even Mrs. Kellogg knows that, but my parents don’t and they won’t. So while they are here, we will be staying in the master bedroom. This is not up for discussion,” Luke said, hanging her dresses in the massive closet. “Now run your sweet little posterior back down to your room and get the rest of your things.”

“But Luke,” Filly began to protest again, trying not to think too much about him calling her posterior sweet.

“No buts except yours going back downstairs,” Luke said, taking her hand and pulling her down the big staircase at a trot. Gathering the last load of Filly’s clothes in his arms he made another trip upstairs while she put all her keepsakes in the trunk Luke had given her.

Placing the Christmas quilt on top she carried it to the master bedroom, setting it down on the floor of the closet. She’d sort her treasures out later, when she wasn’t so rushed.

Hurrying back downstairs, she grabbed a large basket, put all their personal toiletries in it then handed it to Luke to run up to the master bath while she cleaned the guest bath they had shared.

When it was sparkling, she added a few festive touches and declared it ready for company.

Moving on to the room that had been hers, she stripped the bed and remade it, giving it a quick airing and glanced around to make sure nothing of hers had been left behind. Satisfied Luke had taken all of her belongings upstairs, she blocked from her mind the thought of what would happen later, when they were forced to share the room for the night.

By this time, Mrs. Kellogg had returned with Percy running along behind her, pulling a little wagon loaded with supplies. While Filly put away the purchases and helped Mrs. Kellogg finish the laundry, Luke started a cheery fire in the parlor and library, swept off the front porch and paid Percy an entire dollar to hurriedly wipe the outside of the windows on the ground level.

Checking his watch, Luke hustled back to the kitchen to find Filly and Mrs. Kellogg discussing menu ideas while folding the laundry that was dry. A small room located over the top of the boiler served as a perfect place to hang wet clothes in the winter since the heat from the boiler came up through the floor and warmed the space.

“Does your mother have any particular favorite foods,” Filly asked as Luke went to the ice box and poured himself a glass of milk. Snatching a couple of cookies from the jar on the counter, he sat down for a much needed break.

“She likes chicken and is quite partial to Boston cream pie,” Luke said, taking a huge bite of the cookie Filly called jumbles. Luke didn’t care what they were called. He just knew the mix of nutmeg and cinnamon in the buttery cookie was pretty tasty.

“Boston cream pie?” Filly said, snatching a cookbook from a shelf and wildly flipping through it. “Here we go. It looks like we have the ingredients as long as we’ve got the time.”

Looking at Luke she raised an eyebrow his direction. “Do we have time? How are they arriving? What time will they be here?”

“The telegram said they’ll arrive on this afternoon’s stage, which, if it arrives on time, will be here around six. That gives us nearly three hours to finish getting ready.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Filly started setting out ingredients to make the dessert.  Turning to Luke, she asked him to run out to the Leonard place and see if he could get a couple of fresh chickens. The Leonard family supplied not only their milk and eggs, but also brought in plucked chickens once a week, but their delivery day wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow, when they would bring the turkey Filly had ordered for Christmas.

With Luke tracking down chickens, Mrs. Kellogg helped Filly air the dining room and place a freshly pressed cloth on the table. They assembled a simple arrangement with red candles and greens in the center of the table then set it with the china from the built-in cupboard.

Filly hadn’t spent any time in the dining room, other than to dust, and admired the gleam of the porcelain dishes along with the sparkling shine from the silverware. Carefully arranging crystal goblets at each place setting, Filly was pleased at how nice the table looked when they finished.

Returning to the kitchen, Mrs. Kellogg helped her make the filling for the Boston cream pie as well as the icing then the kind lady bundled up and wished Filly luck with her in-laws. Before she hurried out the door, Filly slipped a five-dollar gold piece into her gloved hand with a hug and thanks for all her extra help.

Patting her cheek, Mrs. Kellogg smiled. “You never, know, dearie, what a blessing this unexpected visit might turn out to be.”

Not taking time to decipher the meaning of that statement, Filly instead punched down the bread she had set to rise and formed the dough into rolls. Placing the pan, covered with a clean towel, on the back of the stove to rise again, she moved jars around on the pantry shelves looking through their canned vegetables and selected corn to go with the chicken. She also gathered up a handful of apples, deciding to fry them to go along with the meal.

As her nerves became more frazzled with the ticking of the clock, Filly was relieved when Luke hurried in the door with two chickens, plucked, dressed and ready for the oven. Rinsing them off, Filly salted and seasoned them before setting them into a roaster and shoving the pan into the oven.

Looking around, she tidied up the kitchen while Luke made another pass through the house, trying to look as critically at everything as his mother would.

Filly was a competent housekeeper and he couldn’t find anything out of place, anything that needed attention. Even running his finger along the top of the door-sill, he found not a trace of dust.

Returning to the kitchen, Filly looked worried and anxious. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her on the tip of the nose.