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Authors: Caroline Fyffe

Before the Larkspur Blooms (26 page)

BOOK: Before the Larkspur Blooms
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Roberta scurried into the kitchen. “Hannah, I need a chicken plate, two beef and gravy plates, and, and—” Her mother looked like she was going to faint.

“Mother, sit here.” Hannah pulled out a chair and gently eased her down.

“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten what the lady in blue asked for.” Roberta struggled to get up as she rummaged through the pockets of her apron. “Where is the order? I’ll go ask her again. She’s been patiently waiting for a long time.”

“No. You just stay put for a few minutes. It’s not worth ruining your health over.”

“But—”

“No buts. Susanna can ask her again.”

Hannah worked the pump handle and caught some water in a glass. She set it on the table. “Now, take a sip, and then breathe. Try to relax. Everything is going to be OK.”

Quickly, Hannah sliced up a loaf of bread and flopped the slices onto a dinner plate. “As soon as you feel up to it, you can go around and offer a slice to people who have been waiting the longest. It should hold them over. But not yet. Take a few more moments off your feet.”

That done, she mixed up a new batch of biscuits and set them aside for when the others came out of the oven in three more minutes. She turned up the heat on the gravy and added a smidge more flour-water mixture to extend and thicken it faster, stirred it a few times, and then left it to simmer. Grabbing one of the last three clean plates, she sliced several good portions of the pot roast and put it on the plate, then added an extra scoop of green beans, since all that was left of the mashed potatoes was a dirty pot.

An angry voice rang out in the dining room. “Where’s my supper?”

Thom pushed his way through the front door, Markus riding on his back. He was just in time to see a beefy man catch Susanna by the back of her apron sashes and pull her back. With her hands full of dirty plates, she almost toppled over.

“Why, you hooligan,” she sputtered, her face clouding up. “I’ve never seen anyone with worse manners.”

Thom set Markus down and strode over to the table. “Take your hands
off
the help.”

The pudgy man’s face scrunched up and his hands fisted. “Me and my men have been in this poor excuse of a restaurant for too long. She keeps ignoring us.”

Susanna shook her head. “That’s not true. I was getting to your table next.”

Thom stood over the man with Susanna safely behind him. “I’m only telling you this once, so listen up. The next time you touch her, or anyone else working or eating here, I’ll throw you out on your backside. Do I make myself clear?” Thom looked around at all the men and the few women in the restaurant, gauging the strength of his words. “Today’s business was a surprise to the proprietor. Tomorrow, I can assure you, the place will be ready for you all.”

Everyone clapped except the fat man. Smiles replaced scowls.

He found Hannah in the kitchen, red-faced and covered in flour. He almost laughed. “Thomas Donovan at your service.”

She looked up. “Thom! Thank you for answering my cry for help.”

Roberta watched them from a chair at the small table. She looked away and pursed her lips.

Rapidly scanning the room, Thom snatched a milk stool from the broom closet and set it in front of the sink. “Markus, how would you like to make two bits?”

The boy’s eyes grew round, and a smile almost as circular as the horseshoe he’d been pounding ten minutes ago lit his face. “Two bits?
Sure!

“Climb on up. I want you to wash these plates and set them here.” Thom cleared away a spot within easy reach for the boy. “I’ll rinse and then dry them in a few minutes. Be extra careful because I have a feeling your ma is going to need each and every one in the months to come.”

Hannah, still working to fill six plates, glanced at him as she worked. A sweet smile pulled the corners of her mouth.

“All right.” The boy took the rag and plunged it in the sink of soapy water, then attacked the top plate of a ten-tall stack. Taking his job seriously, he scrubbed with force. Thom turned to find Chase Logan watching him from the back door. Hannah spotted him a moment later.

“What’s going on in here?” Chase said, laughing. “All heck’s breaking loose.”

Hannah smiled. “You can say that again. It’s the men from the railroad and other newcomers, too. Mr. Peabody was right—business is booming.”

He stepped in a few feet and removed his hat. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes. I need more meat by tonight. Cut up and wrapped. Can you do that?”

“You bet. Anything now?”

She went over and handed Chase a cookie. Her expression said that was all she could spare. “Actually, yes. Can you stop by the mercantile and tell Maude to triple the things I usually pick up on Monday evening? I’ll need plenty of canned goods as well as apples, raisins, and any other dried fruit that she has. I think I’ll be baking for most of the night. Other than that, we’re OK now.
Thank goodness Thom came to our rescue. If you can supply me the beef for tomorrow, that will be a huge help.”

Thom looked at Hannah. “What’s that smell?”

“Biscuits!” She dashed to the oven and yanked the door open.

“They’re OK,” he said from behind her. “Just getting brown on top.” He grasped a pot holder and pulled them out, then took the knife from Hannah’s hands. He motioned to the last roast in the work area. “I’ll slice it up.”

She nodded. “I’ll make more gravy.”

“And I’ll get back to work.” Her mother picked up the plate filled with bread and stomped out of the room.

An hour later, Hannah wiped a splotch of gravy from the plate rim she was filling with the last clean spot of her apron.
What a wonderful, exciting, money-making day.
It was hard to believe. Things were looking up. Now, she could pay Susanna her wages without worry, and she’d worked the whole afternoon with Thom. He’d cooked, cleaned, and even made several batches of biscuits. She’d been amazed by his culinary talents. He’d gotten her mother to laugh several times, too, although Roberta had tried her best not to. Sighing, Hannah scrunched her cramped toes, and pain radiated up her legs.

She set the plate on the shelf above the stove. “Order up,” she called toward the dining room. She placed a note card Maude had made for her under the biscuit. After Chase delivered the message to the mercantile, Maude had put up her “I’ll Be Back in Ten Minutes” sign and hurried over. They’d come up with an idea, and Maude had printed cards that apologized for the skimpy portions and promised a nice oatmeal raisin cookie upon redemption on their next visit to the restaurant.

Susanna shuffled in, picked up the plate, and was gone.

The crowd had dwindled. It was five minutes before seven—almost closing time. Thom helped Susanna straighten up out front, and Roberta had gone home. Markus was still at his job, albeit moving very, very sluggishly.

“Tired, Markus?” Hannah asked, rubbing his sweaty little back.

The boy nodded.

“You’ve done enough, sweetheart. I can finish that now.”

He dried his rubbery red hands and climbed off the stool. He sat down with a plop and rested his elbows on his knees.

“You did a fine job. If you hadn’t taken over when you did, we would have run out of dishware. You earned your pay today without a doubt.” There was no response. She looked down to see he had fallen asleep.

The door swung open. Thom spotted Markus and stopped in his tracks. He caught the door, then closed it quietly. His gaze moved up to hers, and she almost melted. Tenderness filled his eyes. They held hers for several long moments, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt he loved her. He could protest all he wanted; she’d never believe him. What an extraordinary father he’d make for Markus. The two had bonded.

Thom gifted her with a lazy I-love-you smile. “What a good-hearted little cowpoke,” he said, nodding to Markus. “And a hard worker t’boot.” He reached out and took her hand, dragging his thumb slowly across the back.

He’s finally come to his senses.

He led her over to more privacy by the back door. All was quiet in the dining room. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Her heart did an excited somersault in anticipation.

A second passed.

“Hannah?”

Opening her eyes, she read the confusion on his face. She straightened and cleared her throat, embarrassed.

“You should take Markus home. He’s all but worn out. I’ll pick him up so he won’t awaken.”

Hurt, she looked at the sink and all the hours of work that remained. “I can’t leave. There’s still too much left to do before tomorrow.” Susanna came in, saw them standing hand in hand, twirled around, and left. Thom’s amused expression added to her disappointment.

“Susanna’s been here for hours,” Hannah protested. “She can take him home for me, and Mother will put him to bed.” A pang of guilt pricked her insides. “That way I can clean up and get prepared for tomorrow. I have roasts to cook and pies to bake.” Her excitement over such a profitable day paled as she contemplated Thom. Couldn’t he feel her love? What was holding him back?

Thom shook his head. He strode over and gently picked Markus up without waking him, then placed him in her arms. “Can you manage?”

“Of course. But—”

He cocked an eyebrow. “He needs you, Hannah. You’re his ma. Later, after he’s asleep and you’ve had a few hours to rest, then you can come back. Susanna told me she has been helping you for a long time and knows everything you do. We’ll wrangle this place into shape and then start cooking and baking. Tomorrow, after my chores at the livery are done, I’ll stop back to help.”

Markus mumbled something in his sleep and snuggled into her breast.
What can I do? He’s right. Markus does need me.
“Fine,” she said and headed for the back door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

B
y ten o’clock, Jake had delivered the packaged beef Hannah had asked for to the Silky Hen, where Thom Donovan and Susanna still toiled. He’d also brought along some baked goods from Jessie, made after she’d heard the story of Hannah’s full house.

Now free of responsibilities, Jake headed toward the saloon, curious about all the new faces. The usual sleepy street had people coming and going, rare for this late in the evening. He stopped short of entering. He knew too well the things that happened beyond the swinging doors. He’d cooled off a lot since last week, accepting that he was what he was. Nothing more. Chase had offered him a lot, letting him tag along three years ago. He’d do well by being grateful for the second chance he’d been offered and not screwing it up.

The jaunty song on the piano ended and the player started in on “The Streets of Laredo.” Philomena’s voice joined in, bringing a lump to his throat.

“Thought I saw you out here, Jake,” Daisy said, stepping through the doors. Her soft voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

He smiled, taking in her pretty dress and happy expression. She was doing better. He was glad. “You’re busy tonight.” He nodded toward the saloon. “Lots of new people in town.”

She sidled up close and took his arm. “But none like you, Jake. I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Been busy, I guess.”

A man burst through the doors, stumbling down onto a knee. Jake swung Daisy behind him, out of harm’s way.

BOOK: Before the Larkspur Blooms
10.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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