Christine Johnson - Mail Order Mommy

Garrett followed her in but didn’t sit. He stood across the room, staring out the window. Amanda waited for what seemed like ten minutes, but he said nothing. At last she could stand it no longer.

“I wonder what that was about,” she mused. “Pearl didn’t say anything to me about building something for Christmas.”

“She didn’t?” He turned toward her, brow furrowed.

In spite of his burly build and ruddy cheeks, Garrett had an endearing boyish quality that tugged at her heart. The poor man had suffered terribly, losing his wife in a tragic accident, yet he endured, his faith unshakable. That more than anything terrified Amanda. Garrett Decker was a man of God. Could he see the shame hidden deep inside her?

She forced a smile. “She didn’t. I have no idea what she wants you to build.”

He scowled and turned back to the window.

Amanda waited for him to say something. The silence was beginning to unnerve her. After ignoring her the last few weeks, he certainly wasn’t going to ask for her hand. If only he realized how much his children needed a mother, but apparently even Sadie’s letter hadn’t changed his mind. If he offered Amanda a marriage of convenience, she would accept, but that appeared unlikely.

He sat in the chair opposite her on the other side of the room and continued to twirl his cap between his hands. Even now he said nothing. Her head spun with possibilities. As seconds dragged into minutes, she could no longer bear the suspense.

“You wanted to speak with me?” she prompted.

He nodded and finally looked up, a pained expression on his face. “I, uh, haven’t been fair to you lately.”

He wanted to apologize?

She gathered her wits. “A lot happened.” The fire.

“Don’t make excuses for me.” He looked up, but not at her. “You see, I’m still grieving my late wife.”

Amanda nodded and fixed her gaze on her clasped hands, the knuckles white. She flexed her fingers, but it didn’t relieve the tension.

He cleared his throat. “But that’s not why I’m here. The fact is that circumstances have put me in a difficult situation.” His gaze wandered to the samplers on the wall. “I—that is, we—plan to move to a house. The children and I.”

“I see.” Though she didn’t. Why did this involve her, unless he was going to propose a marriage of convenience?

“Roland and I have managed the cooking and cleaning since, well...you know.”

She drew in a sharp breath and captured his attention. Heat flooded her face. Was he going to ask the impossible? Her mouth grew dry, and she wished for one swallow of that unpalatable tea.

He looked down at his cap again. “Yes, well, once my brother marries, he’ll be, uh, preoccupied. So I thought it best that the children and I move. I’ll ask for a house when I accept the position as chief shipwright for the schooner Mr. Stockton is having built.”

“Congratulations.”

He nodded. “It’s not all settled yet. I have to meet Mr. Stockton in a few minutes. So that’s why I, uh...”

Amanda waited.

His lips began to form words before backing off. He twirled the cap again and heaved a tortured sigh. “There’s no way around it. I—that is, we—will need a housekeeper.”

A housekeeper! No wonder Fiona had stormed out of the parlor.

Though disappointed, Amanda couldn’t afford to pick and choose. She needed an income. Garrett was offering a position, doubtless one that paid enough for her to afford a room. Moreover, keeping house meant she could take care of Sadie and Isaac. It wasn’t marriage, but it would keep her in Singapore.

“Do the children know they will be moving?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell them until everything is set. I need to speak to Mr. Stockton in—” he glanced at the clock “—in ten minutes. I’d be much obliged if you would consider the position. I will pay you, of course.”

God did answer prayer, though certainly not in the way Amanda had hoped. She needed a paying job, and Garrett was offering just that.

“I accept.”

“You do?”

Was that hope she saw in his eyes?

“We should go over the details. For instance, when would you expect me to work? I can’t live at the house, naturally.” Her cheeks must be as red as a summer sunset.

“Of course not.” His expression confirmed that had never been his intent. “I assume you’d stay here and, uh, keep house and whatnot during the day.”

“I help out at the school.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” He scrubbed his auburn locks. “On weekdays, you can clean after the school day ends, but I’ll need you every day to take care of my son and daughter. Make supper.”

Make supper? Amanda gulped. She had no idea how to cook. Maybe Mrs. Calloway or Pearl could give her lessons before she began. “When would you need me to start?”

“Monday, if all goes as planned.”

That gave her the weekend to learn how to cook. “So soon?”

His mouth ticked. “I want to move out early to give Pearl time to set up the upstairs lodging the way she prefers.”

“That’s very considerate.” That took away her idea of asking Pearl to teach her to cook. She’d have to ask Mrs. Calloway. “You will have the house ready by then?”

“We’ll move the furniture this weekend. I was hoping you could help with the cleaning.”

“Now?”

“Next week would be fine.” Finally, his gaze landed on her, filled with such gratitude that her heart nearly stopped. “Thank you. This is a big help.”

It wasn’t marriage or even courting, but it would give her more time with Sadie and Isaac. Perhaps time would change their father’s mind.

Amanda stood. “I love spending time with Sadie and Isaac.”

This time Garrett gazed right into her eyes.

Her breath caught. Did she see a flicker of affection or was it simply gratitude?

He backed away and nodded curtly. “Thank you, again, Miss Porter. I must be on my way to the hotel for my meeting.”

“I hope it goes as you anticipate.”

He shoved the cap on his head. “I’m sure it will.”

They walked to the front door, where she saw him out. This time the frosty morning air didn’t bother her. She would not have to say farewell to Isaac and Sadie, after all. She would see them each and every day. Who knew where this might lead? Perhaps straight to Garrett Decker’s heart.

Garrett paused on the porch to don his cap. “I see Mr. Elder’s at the mercantile. Probably heard that the mail came in.”

The mail!

Oh, no. Her letter begging a position with the Chatsworths was on its way to New York, and she could do nothing to stop it.

Chapter Two

Garrett surveyed the Cherry Street house the following morning. It didn’t take long to see why Stockton had readily agreed to include use of the house as part of Garrett’s compensation for taking the lead building the new ship. His excitement over putting to use skills he’d honed years ago in a Chicago shipyard waned in light of all the work that needed to be done on the house.

“The roof leaks in at least four places.” He pointed each one out to his brother. “Right next to the kitchen stove and over the table. Look how warped the tabletop is.”

“If anyone can fix it, you can.”

“I wanted to move in today.”

Roland shrugged. “You don’t need to move for a couple weeks. Why not fix what needs fixing first? It’s a lot warmer today. We could tackle the roof.”

“You?” Garrett had a tough time imagining his brother picking up a hammer, much less using it. “You couldn’t fix a crooked picture.”

He moved into the first bedroom before his brother could reply. Naturally, Roland followed.

“Another leak, over the bed,” Garrett pointed out.