The Christmas Quandary: Sweet Historical Holiday Romance (Hardman Holidays Book 5) Page 5
Chapter Five
“You are a first-rate ninny, Lila Angelique Granger,” Lila muttered in disgust as she marched away from the school.
For reasons she couldn’t understand and refused to explore, something about Tom Grove jarred her interest. Maybe it was the kindness she read in his face. Perhaps it was the way his soul seemed to glimmer in his warm blue eyes.
It most certainly couldn’t be the woodsy smell of him or how handsome he appeared when she stepped into the classroom. Even with his tie all a mess and one of his shirt buttons about to work its way out of the buttonhole, he held a rugged appeal unlike the men she’d known in New York. Although he exhibited fine manners and was well spoken, she sensed an underlying restlessness, a hint of outdoors and freedom in him she’d not noticed in the men who had attempted to court her.
Vividly aware of him the entire time she wrote the spelling words and math problems on the blackboard, the moment he’d brushed the chalk dust from her cheek, her knees began to quake.
The slight touch of his fingers against her skin sent something skittering from the point of contact to every extremity. She wasn’t attracted to the man. The very notion was utterly ridiculous.
After all, she was engaged to Emerson. She would marry him as soon as she returned to New York and confirmed his ability to make her stomach swirl with emotion every bit as much as Tom had done to her that morning.
Unnerved by the notion she already referred to Mr. Grove as Tom in her thoughts, she lambasted herself all the way back to Granger House.
As the chilly winter air nipped around her, she couldn’t help but think about how appealing Tom looked as he tipped up his chin and allowed her to fix his tie.
Perhaps all she felt for him was pity. The man was practically incapacitated with his arm in a sling. The cast looked dreadfully heavy and had to be a source of much discomfort.
Yes, sympathy for his condition had to be the reason for her unbridled interest in the man. That would explain why she’d noticed his square chin, full bottom lip, and long dark lashes that rimmed his expressive eyes.
“Stop it, you addlepated loon,” Lila grumbled, causing Bart to raise his head in question as she stomped up the back steps.
“Not you, Bart, old boy. I am the one in trouble today. Big trouble.” Lila dropped down to her knees on the porch, heedless to the cold or wet puddles of snow melting around the dog’s warm body. “I think I need to begin this day anew and set my focus on Emerson. He’s smart and witty, wonderful and kind. Indeed, I should concentrate on keeping him foremost in my mind.”
The door swung open and Filly glanced down at her. “Are you talking to Bart again? I heard a voice and wondered if someone accompanied you home.”
Lila grinned and surged to her feet, hustling inside. “Bart’s a good listener,” she said, whipping off her coat and hat, leaving them on hooks by the door. “What would you like me to help with this morning?”
“Would you mind keeping an eye on Cullen while I finish the laundry?” Filly asked as she peeked at her sleeping son in the cradle near the table.
Lila looked around Filly and smiled at the baby slumbering with one little fist above his head and his lips pursed, as though he wanted to suck on something. “I can do the laundry,” she offered.
“No. I’ll finish it. I just have one load left to do and I don’t think you want to wash your cousin’s drawers and socks.” Filly grinned at Lila as the two of them walked to the laundry room door.
Lila gave Filly a saucy look. “You’re right. The last thing I want to do is that load of laundry. I could begin fixing lunch or work on the pile of ironing.”
“We’re having leftover stew for lunch, there isn’t anything dry enough to iron, and the house is clean. Why don’t you read in the kitchen? Or you could take Cullen into the library, if you like.” Filly picked up a pair of Luke’s dirty socks.
“I’ll find something to occupy myself in the kitchen.” She backed up a few steps. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“I’m sure, but thank you for offering. If you keep an eye on the baby, that’s all I ask.”
“Very well.” Lila hurried to her bedroom and gathered her writing case. She returned to the kitchen and took out several sheets of thick monogrammed stationery, an inkwell, and her pen.
Determined to set her mind on her fiancé, she wrote him an informative letter, sharing about the delicious Thanksgiving dinner Filly prepared, how Alex performed several magic tricks, and plans for the holiday season. Ginny and Blake would host their annual skating party, the school’s carnival promised to provide much amusement, and Lila had volunteered to help with the children’s Christmas program at church.
She tapped the end of the pen against her chin, mulling over what else to write. The more time she spent away from Emerson, the harder it was to feel a connection to him. As she gazed out the kitchen window, she tried to envision what he looked like the day she’d gone to the pier to see him off. Instead of his vibrant cobalt eyes and blond head, she envisioned soft blue eyes full of emotion, depth, and warmth, and a short-cropped head of brown hair.
Annoyed her thoughts once again circled around to Tom Grove, Lila quickly finished the letter and sealed it in an envelope. She addressed it and slipped it into her coat pocket to mail when she went to check on Maura right before lunch.
She put away her writing things in her room and returned to the kitchen to find Cullen waving his little fists in the air.
The baby rarely cried. Ruefully, Lila smiled. Most likely, the little one had no need to cry since someone rushed to meet his every need as quickly as possible.
“Well, Cullen, are you hungry or does that diaper need to be changed?” Lila asked, lifting the infant into her arms.
She cuddled him close and kissed his cheek. Like Maura, he had a tiny little dimple in his chin, greatly resembling the one Luke sported. His pale hair was so soft, Lila couldn’t help but gently brush her hand over his head and inhale his wonderful baby scent.
“What do you think, Cullen Lucas? Hmm? Is it time for your mama to finish with the laundry and feed you?” Lila talked to the baby in a quiet singsong voice. The baby watched her face as she spoke and sucked on his fist. She carried him down the short hall to the laundry room. “Shall we see if your mama is finished washing your daddy’s smelly ol’ socks?”
Filly glanced up as she ran the last sock through the mangler that squeezed all the moisture out of the wet laundry. “Is he awake already?” She tossed the sock in a basket with others then wiped her hands on her apron before taking the baby from Lila. “I suppose he’s hungry, too.”
“He is just like his father,” Lila teased, lifting the basket and carrying it to the room next door. The large space over the boiler in the basement stayed warm and made the perfect place to dry clothes in the cold winter months. While Filly nursed the baby and changed his diaper, Lila hung up the laundry to dry, took down the sheets that had already dried, and folded them into a stack for Mrs. Kellogg to iron when she came the following morning.
When she finished, Lila returned to the kitchen and glanced at the clock. She had plenty of time before she needed to check on Maura. Her footsteps carried her to the parlor. She sat down at the piano, playing an assortment of popular, uplifting pieces.
“I love hearing you play,” Filly said as she strode in the room with the baby. She took a seat in a rocking chair near the fire and set it into motion while Lila continued to segue from one song to another. She sang along to some tunes and merely played others.
At the sight of Cullen’s eyes drooping in slumber, she switched from boisterous songs to soothing, calm tones. She sang a lullaby as Filly rocked the baby and soon he slept.
“I’ll put him down in here where it’s warm and quiet,” Filly said, rising to her feet. Lila whisked off to the kitchen and returned with the cradle, setting it down just close enough to the fire to absorb the warmth it offered.
After gently tucking the baby into the
cradle, Filly and Lila returned to the kitchen. “I think I’ll whip up some cornbread to go with the stew and I suppose I should make some cookies. Luke seems to think the cookie jar is replenished by magic, but not even Alex could make that happen.”
Lila laughed and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat then wrapped a scarf around her neck. “That would be quite a trick, considering how quickly yours empties.” She tugged on her gloves and picked up her reticule. “Do you need anything from the Bruner’s store while I’m out collecting Maura?”
“No, but thank you for asking.” Filly creamed sugar and butter together for cookies. “Oh, would you mind inviting Tom for supper tonight? I’m sure he’ll be tired after his first day of teaching. He’ll have quite a time trying to cook with his arm in a sling.”
“Of course,” Lila said, her voice slightly clipped.
Surprised, Filly cast an odd look her way.
Lila ignored it and breezed out the door. The last thing she wanted was to sit across the dinner table from Tom Grove. She’d been unable to get him off her mind all morning. Attempts to convince herself pity drove her interest fell flat. She couldn’t explain what about him, exactly, fascinated her, but something did.
Resolved to shoving her curiosity about the man aside, she rushed to the post office and mailed her letter to Emerson then hurried to the school. She reached the steps as the door opened and children spilled outside, eager to run off the energy they’d bottled up all morning.
Erin waved as she ran past Lila with two of her friends, making a beeline for the swings Blake and Luke had hung in some of the big trees.
Concerned Maura had raced past her unseen, Lila quickly gazed around the faces of students, but the little girl wasn’t there.
Lila briskly marched up the steps and inside the schoolhouse. Tom Grove held Maura’s coat while the little girl chattered nonstop, shoving her arms into the sleeves.
“Do you know my doggie, Mr. Grove? Bart’s a good doggie, but Aunt Ginny calls him a slobbering bafoon.” The little pixie smiled up at him. “Erin showed me a picture of a bafoon in a book. Bart’s not a monkey. Why does Aunt Ginny call him a monkey?”
Lila pressed her hand against her mouth to keep from laughing as Tom struggled to help Maura button her coat. “Did your aunt call him a baboon or a buffoon? A baboon is a monkey, but a buffoon is someone silly, who amuses others with jokes.”
“Oh,” the little girl said, appearing thoughtful. “I understand. Bart’s a buffoon.” Maura clapped her hands together and spun in a circle chanting. “Bart’s a buffoon, a funny foon.”
Tom’s eyes rolled upward as he bit back a smile. He held out his hand to Maura and she took it. “Did you bring your lunch, Maura?”
“No. Lila will bring it.”
“And here I am,” Lila said, making her presence known. Maura released Tom’s hand and raced over to Lila, giving her a tight hug around the waist.
Tom’s gaze snapped to Lila’s and he offered her a hesitant smile. “Hello, Miss Granger.”
“Mr. Grove,” Lila said, cordially tipping her head his direction. “How did the morning lessons go? Did you have any problems?”
“No. Quite to my surprise, the students were all well behaved and settled right down to the business of learning with very little problem.” He winked at Maura. “With the exception of a few little chatterboxes.”
“Maura, were you talking during class again?” Lila asked, helping the child tug on her mittens.
“Only while we worked on maths.” Maura shrugged as through that explained everything.
“You have to be quiet during class or your daddy said you have to stay home.”
A little lip puckered out and moisture gathered in the pale green eyes. “I ’member, Lila. Please, I want to come to schools. I don’t want to stay home.”
Tom knelt down and placed his hand on Maura’s back. “You did fine, Maura. Perhaps tomorrow you can make it all morning without forgetting to be quiet during class.”
“I’ll try, Mr. Grove.” The little girl sniffled and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you for teacheding me.”
Tom hugged her back. “You’re welcome. Now, you best go with Miss Granger.”
Lila bent down and smiled at Maura. “Why don’t you run along outside a moment, honey bunny? I’ll be right there.”
Maura scampered outside with Tom and Lila watching. She ran over to where Erin played with her friends.
“I hope she wasn’t a disruption to you or the other students,” Lila said, glancing up at Tom.
He offered her a reassuring look. “She was fine, Miss Granger. For one so young, she does incredibly well. Are you taking her home for lunch?”
“Yes. She won’t be back this afternoon. Filly thinks whole days are still too much for her even though Maura would argue otherwise.”
“She is a lively little thing. Between her and Erin Dodd, I’m not sure which one is full of more mischief.”
Lila laughed. “I do believe it’s a tie.” She took a step outside then turned back. “Filly asked me to invite you for supper. We eat at six.”
Without giving him time to say he appreciated the offer but wouldn’t join them, Lila flounced down the steps and called to Maura. The little girl ran over and Lila took her hand, leading her home.
Tom watched them go before returning inside the schoolhouse and shutting the door. Like it or not, he’d be spending the evening at the same dining table as the lovely Lila Granger.
Much to his dismay, Tom realized how much he indeed liked the idea.
Chapter Six
“You’re joshing us,” Luke said, staring in disbelief at Tom as they gathered around the large dining room table at Granger House. In addition to Tom, Filly invited Dora and Greg, Alex and Arlan, and Blake and Ginny to join them for the meal.
Tom wiped his mouth on his napkin and returned it to his lap. “No, sir, I’m not. I was standing right there, across from the police chief’s desk, when a beautiful gypsy woman stormed into the room. She had a colorful scarf tied around her hair and her clothes fairly dripped with jewels. She even had a sparkling bracelet around her arm, here,” Tom said, motioning to his upper arm. “Big round circles of silver hung from her ears and the rings on her fingers flashed in the sunlight streaming in the office window. She marched right up to the mayor and spoke rapidly in a language none of us understood. When she finished, she turned and spat on the floor, lifted her hands heavenward and uttered something else we couldn’t understand. The police chief decided it had to be a curse for tossing her brother in jail for picking pockets.”
Transfixed, Lila listened to Tom’s story. “What happened?”
“When he left that day, the police chief’s horse bucked him off a block away from the police station. He ended up staying home with a broken leg for several weeks.” Tom glared at his broken arm. “Maybe some of the curse rubbed off on me for standing too close when she was there.”
Alex playfully grinned. “Now, you’re being ridiculous.”
“You would know, my gypsy wife,” Arlan said, offering Alex an indulgent smile.
“I’m not Romanian, Arlan. How many times must I tell you just because I may look like a gypsy, or even acted like a gypsy traveling from town to town in my magic wagon, I was not raised by gypsies?”
Arlan chuckled. “I know, dear lady, but I find it most amusing to see your reaction each time I mention it.”
“Humph!” Alex huffed in feigned annoyance, and then turned back to Tom. “It sounds as though your work is certainly interesting.”
He nodded his head as he swallowed the bite of tender roast beef. “It is, Alex. I’m so glad you all encouraged me to move to Portland and pursue a career in writing. I’ve learned so much working at the newspaper and look forward to getting back to it.”
“Maybe next time the press is down, you’ll make sure it can’t come back to life before you stick your arm inside it,” Luke suggested, pointing toward the cast on Tom’s arm.
/>
“Definitely.” Tom tossed an unobtrusive glance at Lila as she sat across the table from him. She looked entirely lovely in a crimson-colored gown that made her cheeks appear as though they’d been touched with pink blossoms.
Distracted by her lilac fragrance and the mirthful light in her eyes, he wondered how someone so full of laugher and fun was related to uptight Dora Granger. However, the woman had mellowed considerably in recent years. The arrival of her grandchildren seemed to have a profound effect on her former snobbish attitude. Perhaps she was too busy doting on Maura and Cullen to be critical of others.
Tom shifted his attention from the entrancing young woman across from him to Greg Granger. “Did I hear that you and Mrs. Granger recently returned from a trip to New York, sir?”
“That’s right, Tom,” Greg said, accepting the breadbasket Luke held out to him and helping himself to another piece of Filly’s light bread. “I had some business to attend to, but it’s always nice to return home to Hardman.”
Tom nodded. “Were you able to take in the automobile show at Madison Square Garden while you were there?”
Greg’s eyes lit with excitement. “Dora didn’t wish to attend, but I went with two business associates. The event lasted several days and featured more than a hundred different vehicles. For the outrageous sum of fifty cents, anyone could attend the ‘horseless horse show,’ as they called it.”
“Didn’t you say they had a wooden ramp to show off hill-climbing capabilities?” Luke asked, looking to his father.
“They certainly did, son. It was quite something to watch as those cars tootled right up the hill. A few took on the challenge with more gusto than others.” Greg grinned. “Ransom Eli exhibited a prototype for a new car called a runabout. He seems determined to be a leader in the automotive industry with his Oldsmobile.”
“What do you think of automobiles, Mr. Granger?” Tom asked, interested in the topic. He’d seen any number of motorized vehicles in Portland, and ridden in several, but he had yet to decide to purchase one. It was an expensive investment and one he wasn’t convinced was necessary.