Chapter Five

The Evening Meal

Jake's Home

"My word, this is a beautiful house," Susana whispered as her father pulled their new carriage up to the front of Jake's home.

"I saw a barn out back," Seth mentioned. "A big one. I wonder how many horses Mister Harkness owns."

"I'm sure he has horses for the wagons at the mill," Susana explained. "And I've seen that beautiful horse he sometimes rides to church."

"Yeah," Will agreed. "It's so black, it looks blue."

"It's called a blue roan," their father told them. "Very expensive and well-bred horses."

"Is Mister Harkness rich? Will asked.

"I'm not sure," Papa admitted.

"Aren't you his banker?" Seth questioned.

"I am, at least for his sawmill. I'm sure he has other accounts, but I don't pry unless there is something specific to talk about with my customers."

Susana shifted in the carriage seat and waited for her father to come around and help her down. Seth and Will were already bounding over the side of the carriage.

"Miss Prescott, may I offer an assist?"

She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see Jake there waiting for her. Offering him her hand, she said softly, "Thank you, Mister Harkness."

"Mister Jake, how many horses have you got?" Will asked.

Once he'd seen her safely to the ground, Jake turned to her brother. "Seven. Five of which I use at the sawmill, a mare to pull my buggy, and Justice… my riding horse."

"He's the best-looking horse I've ever seen," Seth admitted. "And so big."

"Seventeen hands," Jake confirmed.

"I have no idea what that means," Susana confessed. "But it sounds impressive."

Jake's warm chuckle wrapped around her as surely as the lightweight shawl she wore.

"It sounds as if you've not done a lot of riding," he guessed.

"There wasn't any need in Saint Louis. We had streetcars, and even the occasional autocar," she told him.

"Well, here we're still stuck with buggies and horses," Jake confirmed. "At least until the train comes through. Who knows, maybe we'll get our own autocars soon after."

Jake led the way up the stairs and then held the door for them to enter. A kindly looking woman with neatly tucked red hair stood in the hallway. "May I take your shawl, Miss Prescott?"

"You're Missus Wilkins," Susana said, calling up a memory. "We met at church a couple of Sundays ago."

"Yes, that's right," Addy Wilkins confirmed. "I don't make it every Sunday because I care for my late husband's bedridden mother. I do have a nurse for her, and we take turns on Sundays."

"Addy is also my part time housekeeper and cook," Jake pointed out. "And the person behind that wonderful aroma coming from my kitchen."

"It does smell heavenly," Wallace admitted. "Roast chicken?"

"Actually, it's pheasant," Addy explained. "Fresh caught by my brother-in-law."

"I haven't had pheasant in ages," Wallace said. "You'll have to share your recipe with my daughter."

Share her recipe ? Since when did her father care about recipes ?

"Can I help with anything, Missus Wilkins?" Susana asked.

"I've got everything under control," Addy assured her. "However, I wouldn't mind some company while I put the final touches on the meal."

"While you ladies tend to supper, why don't I take the boys out to the barn to meet Patience and Justice?" Jake suggested. Turning to her father, he added, "You're welcome as well, Mister Prescott, if you'd like."

"Call me Wallace, young man. And, like my boys, I'd love to get a closer look at that blue roan of yours."

Addy Wilkins was indeed a wonderful cook. The meal was delicious. From the perfectly roasted pheasant to the dressing, creamy mashed potatoes, and well-seasoned green beans from her garden, everything was delicious. Her brandied bread pudding was some of the best Susana had ever tasted.

"Thank you for inviting us," she told Jake as he was walking them to the buggy.

"Yes, Jake, the meal was wonderful," Wallace agreed.

"Can we really come back sometime to go riding?" Seth asked.

"Please," Will added.

"Of course you can," Jake assured them. "Maybe over the Thanksgiving holiday break from school. We can ride up to the crest and look for a Christmas tree. Two even. One for my house, and one for yours."

"That would be great!" Seth said excitedly. "I was hoping we'd have a tree for our gifts."

"Speaking of gifts," Jake said, turning in her direction. "I have something for your grand opening tomorrow."

"You do?" Susana sputtered.

"I'll drop it off in the morning on my way to the mill," he told her.

"What is it?" Will asked.

Jake held up one long finger and laid it against his lips, the motion drawing Susana's attention to his mouth… his handsome face.

"It's a secret," Jake whispered.

Seth's blue eyes lit, before his gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Are you trying to court my sister?"

"Seth Adam Prescott!" Susana scolded, totally mortified by his daring question.

"It's just a gift," Jake assured him. "Something to celebrate your sister's bakery opening. That hardly qualifies as courting."

"Don't you like her?" Will asked.

Susana was certain she was about to melt into the ground in embarrassment. Grabbing her brothers by their jacket collars, she ushered them to the buggy. "Get in, both of you."

When she looked to her father for assistance, she couldn't help but notice the smirk he could barely hide. Not him too ?

"We should be going. The boys have school in the morning," she reasoned.

"Of course," her father agreed.

Jake offered her his hand and, rather than appear impolite, she laid her fingertips in his grasp. The simple touch sent tingles clear up her arm. The moment she took her seat, Jake pulled back his hand.

Had he felt the same strange sensations when they'd touched ?

"Good night, Prescott family," Jake said quickly before retreating a few steps from the buggy.

"Good night, Jake," Wallace said. "Say goodbye to Missus Wilkins for us."

"I will." Sparing Susana one last glance, he told her, "I'll see you in the morning around eight."

The Grand Opening

Sis's Fine Baked Goods

Susana put the finishing touches on her display counter. She'd printed out a half-dozen copies of her specials for the customers' convenience, along with her prices. Her nerves were flip-flopping around inside her stomach like so many butterflies trying to escape their cocoon.

She consulted her broach watch. Eight-twenty . Where was he ? Hadn't he said eight ?

There was still another forty minutes before she opened her doors. She'd delivered her usual order to the café just before seven. Now, all she had to do was wait. Glancing out the big window, she was surprised to see a small group of people milling around. Were they waiting for her to open ?

Lost in thought, it was a moment before she heard the knock at her side door. Dusting her hand across the countertop, she rushed to answer. When she tugged the door open, Jake stood there, a smile warming his features, and a package wrapped in a tarp held tightly in his arms.

"I saw a small group across the street and thought it would be best if I came through the alleyway. We wouldn't want them rushing the place before you're ready?"

She backed up and motioned him inside. "I've been here since half-past six. I'm more than ready."

"Not really," he said. "You still need to write your specials on your outdoor sign." As he spoke, he held up the gift he'd brought. "It's likely not as fancy as what you ordered, but it has a chalkboard on each side. And, unless I miscalculated my fittings, it should stand up just as you wanted."

Her hands shaking, Susana peeled the tarp aside. "It's perfect, and much nicer than the one I ordered. The workmanship is exquisite."

His grin widened, and a slight flush rushed his cheeks. "My gramps taught me to carve. I haven't done as much as I'd like since I reopened his old sawmill."

"I don't have chalk… I wasn't expecting…"

Sticking his hand in his jacket pocket, Jake withdrew a box of white chalk. "Here you go."

"You thought of chalk?" she said, surprised but impressed.

"It came with the two chalkboards."

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," he insisted. "It's a celebratory gift."

"At least let me reimburse you for the supplies."

He shook his head. "Nope. A gift, Susana, wouldn't be a gift if I expected payment."

"Fine, but can you stay until I unlock my doors so you can set up the sign for me?"

"Yes, of course." Stretching the sign out on the nearest counter, he told her, "You've got less than thirty minutes to get everything printed on the boards. You'd better get moving."

Susana sank back in the chair she'd placed in the corner behind her front counter, totally spent after four straight hours of samples, purchases, and orders for more. Jake, bless his heart, had not only stayed until she opened, but he'd also put her sign in place then came back inside to help package up the orders while she handled the cash.

Once the initial rush was over, he left for his own full day at work.

Sighing deeply, she let her success wash over her in a tidal wave of pure joy. She'd done it. She'd become a businesswoman. And, if today was any indication, a successful one.

"Susana?" Her father called her name as he came into the store. "What are you doing back there in the corner?"

"Catching my breath," she admitted. "It's been overwhelming. I've sold nearly everything, save for a few cookies, and two pies."

"That's wonderful. Isn't it?"

"Yes, and no. It's wonderful that everyone came out to support me on my first day. It's also frightening to think that this will either continue, or not."

"It will likely even out after the first few days," Wallace explained. "However, you might want to think about hiring some help. You can't bake all evening, and early morning, then handle the selling end."

"You're right about that. I'm about played out for the day, and I still have supper to make at home."

"That's why I'm here. The boys and I are going to take you out to dinner at the café."

"Thank you," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What can I do to help you close up?" Papa asked. "I see your sign arrived on time. I can bring that in for you."

"That's not the sign I ordered," she told him. "That's the gift Jake mentioned last night as we were leaving."

"Jake made that?"

"Yes, Papa, and it's a work of art. He even carved little cupcakes, cookies and pies on the edges."

"Maybe your brother was right after all."

"About?" she asked wearily.

"Jake's courting you. Not in an obvious way, but in acts of kindness and generosity."

"He's just being neighborly," she insisted.

"‘Neighborly' would have been a simple wooden sign. Courting is pies, cakes, and cookies carved on the edges."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted.

"Are you okay with his show of generosity?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, Papa. I think so."

"And, if he wants to court you properly? Would you be fine with that too?"

"I guess I'll make that decision if it ever comes up. I know my brothers wouldn't mind, especially if it means more time riding horses and chopping down Christmas trees."

"You should invite Jake to Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe Missus Wilkins too, if she's able to get away from caring for her mother-in-law."

"Do I detect a bit of attraction on your part toward Missus Wilkins, Papa?"

"I'm just being friendly. Who knows? If you and Jake start courting, I may find myself in need of a new housekeeper and cook."

"You've still got a lot of life to live, Papa. Mother's been gone for four years now, so a new wife wouldn't be totally out of the question."

"How about we table this discussion for another time… farther down the road? I'll help you close and then we can go to eat. I'm sure the boys have already read and re-read that café menu a half dozen times."