The Christmas Bargain Read online

  Filly let out a joyful sound, clapped her hands then jumped to her feet. Hugging Luke around the neck, she kissed his cheek and nearly danced around the kitchen in glee.

  “This will be the best Christmas ever,” she declared, already planning all the things she needed to get done. Maybe Mrs. Kellogg could be enlisted to help with a few projects.

  Luke stood up from the table and took Filly into his arms, giving her a loving hug. “Before you get too wound up, let’s go up to the attic. Mother left some Christmas decorations behind when they moved, so you are welcome to whatever is up there.

  Filly threw her arms around his neck in such a tight squeeze, Luke thought for a moment his air supply might be threatened, but he enjoyed every second of it.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the back stairs to the second floor. Walking partway down the hall, Luke opened a narrow door and a musty smell floated down around them. “Phew. I forgot to ask Mrs. Kellogg to air out the attic before it got so cold.”

  He led Filly up a set of narrow stairs into a large attic stuffed with unused furniture, trunks, paintings and all manner of household items. Filly gazed around in awe.

  Leading her to a corner where two black trunks sat beneath a small window, Luke unfastened the buckles, and raised the lids. Stepping back, he allowed Filly to look into the trunks brimming with hand blown glass balls, painted ornaments, a nativity set and more Christmas treasures than she’d ever dreamed of having.

  “Oh, Luke,” she said, holding a delicate glass ball up to the faint light. “These are lovely.”

  “And now they are yours to do with whatever you like,” Luke said, closing both trunks. He shouldered one and clamored down the narrow steps, then returned for the second. Upon his return, he found Filly digging in a trunk of discarded clothes.

  “You can help yourself to anything that is up here, darlin’,” Luke said as he lumbered down the stairs.

  Getting to her feet, Filly followed him down the stairs to the second floor landing and then down the main set of stairs to the first floor. Luke deposited the trunks in the parlor, brushed off his shirt and pants, donned his suit jacket followed by his coat and Stetson, and kissed her on the cheek before heading off to open the bank.

  Filly returned to the kitchen, cleaned up from breakfast, tidied the already clean house and then allowed herself to dig through the trunks of Christmas treasures. By the time Mrs. Kellogg arrived later that morning to help with the laundry, Filly had decorations spread all over the parlor.

  “Filly, good land, child, what are you doing?” Mrs. Kellogg said, coming into the parlor to see what mischief Filly was making.

  “Luke brought these down from the attic this morning,” Filly said, pulling Mrs. Kellogg into the midst of the fun. “Look at all these wonderful treasures.”

  “Yes, indeed,” the older woman said, holding up a large red velvet bow. “And I’m guessing you already have plans on where everything will go.”

  Filly smiled and nodded her head.

  When Luke came in for lunch, he heard laughter from the kitchen, where Filly and Mrs. Kellogg were finishing up a batch of sugar cookies.

  “Looks like I got here just in time,” he said, washing his hands at the sink. “You probably need a taste-tester.”

  “Oh, we’ve tasted and tested and these are just fine,” Mrs. Kellogg said with an impish grin, or at least as impish as a plump grandmother can be.

  Luke smiled and snitched a cookie as he walked past the counter. He had never seen Mrs. Kellogg quite so animated. She had been doing his laundry and helping keep his house for several years, and never once had he seen the short, round woman laugh so freely or openly. Filly must have got her infected her with the Christmas spirit, too.

  Lunch was hot sandwiches made from leftover roast and gravy from the night before. Eating more than his share of cookies before he returned to the bank, Luke wondered what delicious treat would await him that night.

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  Arriving home a few minutes early, Luke entered a quiet house. He could smell ham baking in the oven, but Mrs. Kellogg had gone home and Filly was nowhere to be seen, at least not on the main floor. Wandering through the kitchen a second time, he found an envelope with his name penned across the front leaning against a plate of cookies.

  Slitting it open, he was filled with dread, recalling the last envelope from Filly resulted in a midnight ride to track her down before she returned to her father’s farm.

  Quickly scanning her message, he smiled, hurrying down the hallway to his room. Changing from his suit into jeans, a woolen shirt and his work boots, he put on his wool-lined chore coat, and settled his old battered Stetson on his head.

  Apparently Filly decided to ride up to the tree line to get some branches for decorating.

  Hustling to the barn, Luke saddled Drake, and headed off in the direction of the end of their property. He didn’t see Filly anywhere immediately, but noticed fresh tracks in the snow and followed them. He topped a small rise to see his wife standing, actually standing, on Sheeba’s saddle reaching above her head to get a bunch of moss.

  Not wanting to startle her or the horse, he and Drake sat quietly waiting until Filly retrieved her moss and, in one fluid motion, returned to a sitting position in the saddle.

  Urging Drake forward, Luke called to Filly and she turned in surprise, waving a hand at him.

  “Hi, Luke,” she said, cheeks glowing and eyes bright with happiness and fresh air. “Look what I found.”

  Luke noticed a pile of greenery, some twigs of holly and, of course, the bunch of moss still in her hand.

  “Good land, Filly, how are you going to get all this home?” Luke asked, eyeing the small mountain of greens.

  “I haven’t exactly gotten that far in my plans,” she said, looking around and not seeing any immediate answer to the problem. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”

  “Perhaps,” Luke teased, dismounting Drake and looking around. He quickly found what he was looking for and in no time had a travois lashed together using long, thin poles and the rope from his saddle. Throwing the greenery on top, he tied the end of the rope to his saddle horn. “Let’s start home before it gets completely dark out.”

  “Thanks for helping me,” Filly said, riding beside him. “I was going to come home after I got the moss and then there you were, coming to my rescue again.”

  “What would you do without me?” Luke questioned lightheartedly, but Filly’s expression grew somber.

  “I don’t want to think about it,” she said quietly. Before the mood could get as dark as the evening sky, Filly started to sing Jingle Bells and insisted Luke join in the chorus. Not one given to an abundance of holiday cheer, Luke realized he was about to be dragged into the festivities headfirst this year and relished the thought of experiencing it with Filly.

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  The next few days, Filly was up long before the first fingers of dawn reached the horizon and stayed awake until late at night trying to make the house look beautiful for the holidays.

  Still preparing three hearty, filling meals each day, Luke barely saw his wife except at mealtime. When he came home for lunch the fourth day after the decorations had been carted down from the attic, he stood at the end of the sidewalk and stared. The outside of his stately home now looked like a Christmas painting with green garlands and dark red ribbons draped across the porch railing and posts, wreaths hanging on the doors and an arrangement of holly, branches and pine cones nestled in a whitewashed bucket by the front door.

  Even when his mother lived here, he couldn’t remember the house looking so festive and welcoming. Whistling as he entered through the front door, he called down the hall but didn’t get any response. Peeking into the parlor, boughs and holly draped the mantle and decorations belonging to his family sat artistically arranged around the room. The small table next to the couch held the nativity set.

  The only thing missing was a tree, but Luke knew
they would go out Christmas Eve to cut one. Garlands threaded along the ornate mahogany banister and more arrangements of greens sat tucked into vases and containers here and there.

  The smell of the greenery mixed with the scent of cinnamon to create an altogether pleasant and inviting aroma. One that smelled of happy times, holidays, and home.

  Sticking his head in the kitchen, Luke didn’t see Filly and continued on down the hall.

  “Filly,” he called again, wondering where she could be.

  “Oh, hello there,” she said bobbing her head out of her bedroom door. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Lunch is ready. I’ll have it dished up in a jiffy.”

  “What are you working on?” he asked, trying to see into the room around her as she closed the door.

  “You aren’t allowed to ask questions this close to Christmas,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the kitchen. Luke allowed himself to be tugged along although he was more than a little interested in knowing what Filly was hiding in her room. He had a few Christmas surprises of his own planned.

  Sitting down to lunch, they enjoyed a lively conversation. Luke wasn’t sure how they got on the topic of inventions, but he discovered there were many things Filly had missed in the years she spent trapped on the farm.

  As he got up to head back to the bank, he kissed Filly on the cheek and asked her to walk him to the front door.

  Shrugging into his coat, he looked around appreciatively one more time.

  “You did a wonderful job with the decorations, Filly,” he said motioning into the parlor. “I’ve never seen the house look more festive or cheerful.”

  She blushed under his praise. “Thank you. I had fun decorating.”

  “I’m glad,” Luke said, gently squeezing her shoulder before going out the door. What he really wanted was to stand in the hall and move on to a whole new level of their kissing lessons. He wanted to take down that gorgeous hair and feel the silken curls in his hands. He wanted to bury his face in the hollow of her neck and drink in her scent like fine nectar.

  He wanted his wife.

  The only question was if she would return his feelings. He was still afraid to push her, especially when she might not return the love he felt for her.

  Breathing deeply in the cold air, Luke banked his desires and trudged through the cold snow back to work.

  Chapter Twelve

  Opening the kitchen door, Luke inhaled the scent of ginger in the air and spied a pan of gingerbread cake cooling on the counter. He couldn’t wait for dessert, smiling in anticipation of another tasty treat.

  Hiding a box from the mercantile under the end of the kitchen table, Luke removed his coat and hat, hanging them by the door. He turned around to see Filly bustling into the room with a stack of clean kitchen towels.

  “Hello,” she said with a warm smile that started at her mouth and ended in her big green eyes.

  “Hello, wife,” Luke said, standing at the sink and washing his hands. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “You do?” she asked, setting a savory beef pie on the table, encased in a flaky, golden crust.

  “Yes, I do,” Luke said, pouring milk into their glasses and placing them on the table. “But you have to wait until after dinner to see.”

  “We better eat fast,” Filly teased, anxious to see what Luke brought her.

  Once they were finished with the meal, Filly sat impatiently waiting while Luke brought out the box and set it in front of her.

  The box contained a variety of items from the mercantile she had seen but was embarrassed to ask what were. There was a bottle of root beer, a package of Wrigley gum, malted milk powder, cookies filled with fig paste, salt water taffy, and a tin of soft peppermint puffs.

  “I know you’ve missed out on some of the new inventions and these are some you absolutely have to try,” Luke said, opening the bottle of root beer and pouring them each a glass.

  Filly took a drink and her eyes widened at the sweet taste of the bubbly liquid. “That is wonderful,” she said, taking another sip. “How is it made?”

  Thoroughly discussing the invention of root beer and carbonation, Luke pulled a slim package out of the box.

  “Have you ever had chewing gum?” Luke asked, unwrapping a piece and handing it to Filly.

  She shook her head and stuck the piece in her mouth. It was sweet and quickly became sticky and chewy. “You chew it, just for fun. When you’re done, you spit it out. Don’t swallow it.”

  “What happens if you do swallow it?” Filly asked, liking the flavor of the gum, but not convinced a proper lady would sit and chew on something like a cow with a mouthful of cud.

  “It forms a big ball in your stomach and sprouts gum trees,” Luke said, trying to sound serious, although the merry twinkle in his icy eyes gave him away.

  “I guess I’ll remember to spit it out, although that doesn’t seem very ladylike,” Filly said, already deciding she would not be purchasing any more gum.

  “Just don’t spit it at anybody, and you’ll be fine,” Luke teased. “And don’t accidentally stick it to something you care about like your hair or your clothes. It is impossible to remove.”

  “And you would know this how?” Filly asked, looking at Luke with a questioning gaze.

  “I just do. You can take my word for it.” Luke was not willing to provide more information.

  “I bet I can ask Chauncy and he’ll tell me,” Filly said with a smug smile.

  Luke pulled the box back toward him. “If you’re going to be ornery, no more treats for you.”

  Looking petulant, Filly stuck out her lip and pouted. “I’ll be good,” she said, glancing at Luke through lowered lashes.

  He slid the box back over to her, wondering what she’d do if he captured that delectable full rosy lip in his and nibbled it a while.

  Filly dug through the box asking about each item, saving the rest of the candy and edible treats to sample later.

  “Thank you, Luke. This was very thoughtful of you. Now when I go to the mercantile, I’ll know what all these items are and I won’t have to feel quite so stupid.”

  Taking her hand in his, Luke twined their fingers together. “You have no need to ever feel stupid, Filly. It isn’t your fault things happened and you had no way of knowing about them. If you are curious about something or don’t know what something is, just ask.”

  Staring at their hands joined together, Filly nodded. Luke had once again shown her how much he cared. How she longed to be more than just his cook and housekeeper and friend. She wanted with every fiber of her being to truly be his wife.

  Her attraction to this good man went well beyond his physical appeal. Luke was generous, caring, kind, and protective. With him she was safe and cherished. He made her feel smart and special and pretty.

  Luke made her forget she had been beaten and treated like less than human for the last thirteen years of her life. And for that she would always be grateful.

  Filly didn’t harbor any delusions about why Luke married her. It was partly at Chauncy’s urging, partly as a way to collect something on the debt her father owed him, and partly because he felt pity for her.

  The last thing she wanted was his pity. She wanted his love, but how could she ever hope to have it when she was so woefully inadequate as a banker’s wife.

  Luke finally released her hand and went to his room to change his clothes so he could do the evening feeding and chores.

  When he returned and pulled on his chore coat, Filly was waiting, already bundled up.

  “Where are you headed, darlin’?” he asked, settling his old Stetson securely on his head.

  “Out with you,” Filly said, pulling her gloves on her hands and smoothing down the fingers. “I’ll help and you’ll be finished twice as fast.”

  “Filly, it’s cold out and there is no reason for you to get half frozen helping me,” Luke said, shaking his head at her as he pulled on leather gloves.

  “Yes, there is,
” she said, opening the door and waiting for him to follow her outside. “I want to.”

  “You do know you can be unreasonably stubborn?” Luke said, sighing in resignation. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Filly’s company, he just didn’t want her getting chilled or doing more work than she had already done today.

  She answered with a flirty grin. Luke nearly missed the last step of the porch and decided he better focus his attention on getting the livestock fed instead of his wife.

  Coming in chilled a while later, Filly made them each a cup of hot tea and took it to the parlor on a tray bearing slices of gingerbread covered in fresh whipped cream.

  With his toes stretched out toward the fire, a cup of hot tea and a plate of gingerbread cake in his hand, Luke closed his eyes. “Now this is what I call domestic bliss.”

  Filly, with a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth, stopped and stared at Luke. She wondered if he really meant that, or was just teasing her again.

  “What?” Luke asked, taking another bite of cake, noticing her thoughtful look.

  “Nothing” she said, taking a dainty bite, followed by a sip of tea.

  “If I’ve learned anything, dear wife, it’s that there is never ‘nothing’ going on in that head of yours,” Luke grinned, his eyes sparking with mischief. “What’s got you so quiet?”

  “Did you really mean what you just said?” Filly asked, surprising herself by asking the question.

  “Every word,” Luke said, finishing his cake and setting the empty plate back on the tray. “I had no idea what I was missing out on until you came along, Filly. You’ve made this house a home. You’ve made a haven for us to take comfort in at the end of the day, and I appreciate that.”

  As was her habit, Filly blushed and ducked her head, focusing her attention on her cake.

  “I also appreciate having a lovely friend I can talk to and laugh with,” Luke said, feeling tenderness for his lovely bride curl in his chest, filling his heart. “Marrying you has been such a blessing to me, Filly. Don’t ever forget that.”