Calico Brides (13 page)

Annie tilted her head sideways while she considered. She usually kept her projects away from the kitchen, where flour or water could destroy hours of needlework with a single fling of a spoon. But she could tuck the mitten and skein into a small sack that would protect them from most spills. “I’ll do that.”

In the living room, she glanced at the basket full of completed sets. She was working on the final pair. God Himself had sped her hands, and even the additional yarn had arrived at Finnegan’s Mercantile two days earlier than expected.

She sat down at the table and cast the first row with blue yarn, which she would mix with bright yellow stripes. Like the last one she’d finished, she’d make it large, a good match for the strong, sturdy hands she had seen as the Bear handled the reins on his horse.

She shook her head, hoping to clear away renegade thoughts of the chaplain. “It’s a good thing I finished these early.”

Mama looked up briefly from the pudding she was stirring. “I confess, I was hoping for more opportunities to invite Lieutenant Arnold for a visit. He seemed so sad. You mentioned he lost his fiancée, but that was a long time ago.”

Annie didn’t know how to respond to that. The most serious romance in her short eighteen years consisted of a stolen kiss from Abe Pettigrew on the occasion of their graduation. He had wed Hannah Swenson last November, and Annie rejoiced.

“You feel sorry for
him?”
Annie doubted the laundress at the fort would agree. She had felt the scrape of the Bear’s teeth first hand. She finished the cuff of the mitten and began work on the hand.

Her mother tested the pudding and took it off the fire. “Annie girl, don’t you know that grumpy people usually have been hurt in some way? Don’t you remember Mr. Keller’s reputation as a scary hermit before Gladys braved him in his house and discovered a lonely old man?”

Were Mr. Keller and the Bear alike? “I guess if the Samaritan could love the man on the Jericho road, I can find a way to get along with the—” She stopped herself from saying “Bear” just in time. “Lieutenant.”

“That’s the spirit.” Mama dished pudding into individual bowls and began whipping cream.

A short while later, Annie finished the last stitches before tying off the yarn inside the thumb. Outside the window a chestnut-colored mare appeared. Annie’s heart sped and her dry mouth forced a cough from her throat. She tucked the finished mitten into the sack and stood.

“Why don’t you go ahead and greet our guest while I set the table?” Mama grinned as if she knew every one of Annie’s thoughts and desires.

Draping a shawl over her shoulders, Annie headed out the door. The lieutenant looked less like a bear today, more human, the way he was rubbing the mare’s nose and talking to her.

“Good morning, Jeremiah.”

He jumped at her words, the wary look returning to his face. “Annie.”

She noticed the absence of any kind of gloves or mittens on his hands and hoped he would find her blue-and-gold creations useful.

Mama opened the back window. “Dinner is ready.”

“We’d better hurry.” Nervous laughter bubbled from Annie’s mouth. “She’s been cooking enough food to serve an army.” A genuine chuckle followed that comment. “I mean…”

He smiled, and his features lightened, making him look like someone closer to her brother’s age rather than an aging officer. Someone—almost attractive. She couldn’t help noticing the shine of his boots, the crisp creases of his uniform.

With two steps, he reached the door first and opened it for her. He bowed and gestured her inside. “It smells heavenly in here.”

“We’re serving you breakfast. I hope you don’t mind.”

He looked at her, a question in his eyes. “I don’t mind. I hope your mother didn’t go to any extra trouble for me, though.”

“She loves it. My brother—the one in the army, up in Wyoming, you know—he says he never gets a decent fried egg.”

“Eggs scrambled with every ingredient on hand, but not fried, no.”

The sadness sliding through his eyes reminded her that he had no one to cook his eggs to order for him. She wondered about his family. Mama’s words about hidden hurt made a little more sense, especially as long as this softer, kinder bear cub stayed in charge.

They arrived in the kitchen before they could engage in further conversation.

Mama pulled a pan with toast from the oven and slid two slices onto Jeremiah’s plate. “Lovely to see you again, Lieutenant. Tell me, how do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy.” He settled into the indicated chair and studied the array of available jams.

Annie fixed Jeremiah’s coffee the way he liked it. Mama filled the frying pan with four eggs, and Annie hid a smile. When Mama joined them at the table, she invited Jeremiah to say the blessing.

Jeremiah folded his hands into a tent and bowed his head. “Thank You, Lord, for Your bounty and these kind folks who have served it. Please lead us to do Your will. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

The simple prayer caught Annie by surprise. He spoke like someone who talked with God like a friend, who used everyday language to battle everyday problems in the arena of prayer. Another layer she hadn’t expected from the Bear. She breathed her own silent prayer.
Lord, let me see the lieutenant as You see him
.

When she opened her eyes, steady brown eyes studied her. He smiled as if he had heard her internal prayer then turned his attention to the food in front of him. Mama replaced his toast as soon as he finished his two slices. He ate every bite with relish before pushing back from the table. “Thank you for the delicious meal, Mrs. Bliss.” His eyes sought out Annie, questioning whether she had helped.

“It wasn’t anything hard. Annie’s been working night and day on the hat and scarf sets.”

Jeremiah lifted his eyebrows. Annie rose and reached for Mama’s plate, but Mama shooed her away. “You go into the other room to discuss your project with the lieutenant. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Jeremiah appeared behind Annie’s chair in a second and then escorted her to the front room, treating her with all the courtliness of a born gentleman. So far today he had been politeness personified.

“From what your mother said, you’ve been working hard.” Jeremiah gestured to the sack with bright colors peeking out of the top.

She nodded. “I finished the last set this morning. I wanted everyone to receive his at the same time. This sack here”—she handed the bag at her feet over to Jeremiah—“holds the special sizes. The rest are back in my room.”

“Do you need any help?” Jeremiah asked.

She started to say no, but she had too many bags for a single trip. His suggestion only made common sense. She nodded and led him to the back room. While he gathered the bags, she reached for his special set. Her breath quickened, and she made herself count to five. After a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and returned to the living room a step behind Jeremiah.

“Is there anything I should know before we distribute the scarf sets?”

His question kindled a fire in her stomach that spread up her neck and cheeks. Swallowing to moisten her dry throat, she held out the small paper sack. “I made these especially for you.”

A
nnie made a set especially for me
. Jeremiah reached down from his mare’s back and touched the bulging saddlebag to reassure himself of the reality.

Vivid blues and almost-gold stripes. As smart as a dress uniform during a parade march. She had even added the correct insignia appropriate to his rank. As far as he knew, none of the other sets had anything so unique. The sky overhead and the bracing wind both predicted the same weather: a late-season cold snap, one that could range from hailstones to tornadoes or even a snowstorm. Jeremiah might have a use for Annie’s gift sooner than expected.

The men might talk about the special touches added to Jeremiah’s set, but he couldn’t refuse Annie’s gift any more than he could tell Mrs. Peate he had neglected to offer her invitation to tea. The gift had rattled him, and he escaped soon after that, forgetting the message from the captain’s wife. He’d have to go back.

If he turned around now, he had time to offer the invitation before the dinner bell sounded at the fort and before bad weather set in. The hope of avoiding future trips to town exceeded his embarrassment about his oversight. Maybe this would be their last meeting and he wouldn’t have to return after today. He turned around and headed back into town.

On the way back into town, he spotted Annie’s friend Gladys with a young man. Funny, he hadn’t lost a moment’s sleep because of her. She had already completed her mission; Mrs. Peate would worm the entire story from Gladys the next time they met.

This young woman didn’t frighten him nearly as much as Miss Annie Bliss. Jeremiah reined in his mare and approached the couple. The horse snorted, and they turned in his direction.

“Why, Lieutenant Arnold, how pleasant to see you again.” Gladys looked up at him with a welcoming smile.

The man with her bowed in Jeremiah’s direction. “Haydn Keller, at your service, Lieutenant.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Jeremiah nodded at young Keller. “Mrs. Peate asked me to extend an invitation for the four young ladies involved in your mission project to join her for tea on Saturday afternoon.” He handed Gladys an official invitation.

Gladys held the letter where Keller could see while they both read it. “I would be delighted to accept. How thoughtful of her to have the tea at a time when Miss Fairfield can come. Please thank her for us.” Her eyes swept over the sacks attached to the back of the mare. “I see you’ve already been to Annie’s house. I trust she said yes, too?”

“No, actually”—the words came hesitantly to Jeremiah’s mouth—“I forgot to ask her.” He considered asking Gladys to deliver Annie’s invitation, but Mrs. Peate would not approve. Before Gladys could ask another question, he said good-bye and headed toward Main Street and beyond, to the house with the pretty yellow paint.

This time when he rode up to the house, no one poked her nose outside. He tied his mare to the stair rail leading to the front porch. After retrieving the remaining invitations from his saddlebag, he knocked on the front door. When Annie opened to his knock a minute later, her hair was messed, her eyes sparkled, and she looked as relaxed as Jeremiah had felt as long as he was riding in the direction of the fort.

“Why, Jeremiah, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Please, come in.” She opened the door to invite him in.

Jeremiah stepped inside the door. “Mrs. Peate asked me to deliver these invitations to you when I saw you, but I forgot. She is inviting everyone involved with your special mission projects to tea on Saturday.” He cleared his throat. “I ran into Miss Polson with Mr. Keller on my way back. She has already accepted.”

Annie clasped the envelope that Mrs. Peate had penned with such care close to her chest without opening it. “I shall of course come, and I will get the invitations to Miss Landry and Miss Fairfield as soon as possible. Tell her thank you for us.” He remained in place one awkward moment too long, and Annie smiled. “Would you like some tea before you return to the fort? The air is getting nippy.”

A warm drink, a cheerful kitchen, and a young lady’s smile… He forced himself to remember such things were forbidden to the likes of him. “I am sorry, but I have already tarried too long.” On impulse, he added, “I truly appreciate the items you made for me.”

He clapped his hat on his head and skedaddled, her surprised face etching itself on his mind.

“Mrs. Peate is very nice. I don’t think I could have finished my project without her support.” Annie dangled the sleeve for the sweater she had started in front of her. A couple more inches for length, she decided. She changed the colors of the stripes with every sweater to individualize them.

Birdie pinned together material for a dart. A skilled seamstress, she dressed perfectly modest yet managed to look the most stylish of the four of them. The dresses she made for herself could have been taken from the pages of
Godey’s Lady’s
Book
. “I don’t know if I should go.” She kept her eyes focused on the sewing in her lap.

Ruth turned the invitation she had received over and examined it again. “Mrs. Peate invited all of us.” She looped thread around her needle for a French knot and finished the stitch before looking up again. “Did you have any…business…with the soldiers in your former occupation?”

A pale pink spread across Birdie’s face. “Yes.” The word came out as a whisper.

All sewing ceased for the moment. Tears formed in Birdie’s eyes. Annie handed her the handkerchief she had tucked into her sleeve.

Ruth, ever the pastor’s daughter, revived first. “God has forgiven your past. You no longer have a reason to be ashamed.”

Birdie shook her head, raising her wet face to the others. “But just seeing me might lead some of them to sin.”

“You comport yourself very differently now. Besides, we’ll be going straight to the captain’s quarters, so we may not run into any soldiers.” Annie scrambled for words to assuage Birdie’s worries. “And you look so different now, they might not recognize you in any case.”