Calico Brides (3 page)

“Sit down, why don’t you,” the Old Man said. “We haven’t yet had that conversation I promised you.”

“Very well, Grandfather.” Haydn settled in his chair. “You do have some interesting neighbors.”

“Sweet, I think you said.” A calculating look brightened his dark brown eyes. “That’s just as well, given the nature of my proposition to you.”

Haydn arched an eyebrow. “I thought since I graduated from college, it was high time I came for a visit.”

“Your father and I have been in communication. Believe it or not, we do write to each other.”

Haydn did know. Something in the Old Man’s most recent letter had scared his father enough to insist his only son come straight to Calico. Haydn leaned forward. “I’m here to help in any way I can, Grandfather.”

“Humph.” Grandfather’s gnarled fingers tapped the arm of his chair. “It’s more what I can do to help you. I understand you’re interested in the newspaper business.”

Haydn nodded. “I was the editor of my college paper my last two years at school. I’ve applied for an internship at the
Topeka Blade
. The editor who interviewed me said I have a good chance.” That news had brightened Haydn’s Christmas holidays considerably.

“What would you say if I told you that in spite of its amenities, one thing Calico sorely needs is a newspaper?”

Was the Old Man suggesting… ? It was out of character from what Haydn knew of him. “That’s good news for someone who has capital to invest.” He closed his mouth before he mentioned his financial constraints. From what his father had said, the Old Man believed each man should make his own fortune.

“Or someone who has an investor willing to back the enterprise.” The words fell into a dead silence in the room.

Haydn slowly leaned forward, clenching his hands in his lap. “What do you mean?” He reached for a log, ready to add it to the fire.

“Don’t do that. Can’t waste good money.”

Haydn tamped his impatience. The Old Man’s idea of a warm room barely kept water from freezing. Why he wasn’t sick remained a mystery, but they could talk about that later.

“Sit back and look me in the eye.”

Haydn did as his grandfather requested, resting his hands on the arms of the chair while the silence lengthened.

At last his grandfather put on a pair of glasses he only used when he was reading his Bible. “There’s a folder on top of my desk. Bring it out here.”

Haydn walked down the hallway, growing chillier the farther he moved from the parlor. A single thick folder sat on top of his grandfather’s desk, newsprint curling over the edges. He started to pull back the cover then decided against it. His grandfather had taken effort planning this surprise; Haydn wouldn’t ruin it.

The Old Man gestured for Haydn to lay the folder on the end table by his arm. “They’re all in there.” He opened the folder and pulled out a piece of paper about a foot long and two inches wide—a newspaper article from the looks of it. Grandfather peered over the top of his glasses then brought it in closer and read from it. T
RENTON
R
UNS
F
OR
T
OWN
C
OUNCIL
.

The words sent a shiver of shock through Haydn. He had guessed that the file held his articles, but not that one. He had been so proud when his first piece appeared in his hometown paper when he was sixteen years old. He had been joyfully surprised when the
Topeka Blade
picked up the story.

“You weren’t expecting that, were you?” The Old Man chuckled. “Your father sent everyone he knew a copy. He was so proud.” He cleared his throat. “So, for that matter, was I. So I asked him to keep me apprised if you had anything else published. I have watched your burgeoning career with interest. You have a gift with words, my boy.”

He paused, inviting Haydn to respond. But what could he say? “I didn’t know…thank you.”

“It seems that Calico’s need and your talent intersect.” The Old Man hammered his fist on the arm of the chair. “So, tell me, are you interested?”

Haydn drew in a deep breath. His dreams, handed to him on a silver platter. “Yes.”

Grandfather’s dark eyes so like his own glittered in the darkening room. “Since you are my heir, it is a fitting use of my capital.”

Haydn hadn’t thought he’d ever hear those words. “I would appreciate the opportunity, sir.”

“Wait until you hear my conditions.” The Old Man scowled. “It is only right for me to help you. Frankly, I’d like to see how you handle money. I had to earn mine the old-fashioned way.”

Haydn had heard the same song when his father insisted Haydn pay for his own college education. “I’ve kept my books balanced while I worked my way through college, sir. Running a business can’t be much more difficult than paying tuition and bills on a part-time salary.”

“Perhaps.” The Old Man grunted. He had left school after eighth grade and didn’t hold much use for college education. “Be that as it may. I will help you launch a newspaper in Calico and give you twelve months to make it a profitable enterprise. But I do have one condition. One that is nonnegotiable.”

The Old Man gazed at the fire’s glowing embers. Haydn waited patiently, his mind awhirl with possible demands Grandfather might make of him. Starting with the fact that he would have to live in Calico to run a newspaper here.

“I’m not getting any younger, and I have regretted the distance separating me from my family since your father moved away. The newspaper would allow me to spend time with you, but I want more.” The Old Man looked at Haydn, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I want to see your children before I die. My one requirement is for you to become engaged before my next birthday and to marry before year’s end.”

Of all the… Haydn’s father had warned him the Old Man could be unreasonable and demanding, convinced he knew what was best for everyone. But surely Haydn’s future wife was a matter between Haydn and God—and the young woman in question, of course.

Grandfather looked expectant. Haydn schooled his features not to reveal his shock at the demand.

“Are you courting anyone at the moment?” The Old Man managed to make it sound like a job interview.

“No.” Haydn thought about the coeds who had caught his eye during college. None of them returned his interest, however. The debutantes his mother paraded for his inspection lacked intelligence or beauty or spunk. Haydn was in no rush to marry; he figured God had exactly the right person out there when the time came.

Gladys Polson’s face floated through Haydn’s mind. That one had plenty of spunk, climbing stepladders and hanging baskets on a near stranger’s porch in the dead of winter. Her comments suggested both intelligence and spiritual hunger.

Don’t be ridiculous
. Only Grandfather’s suggestion brought Gladys to mind.

“Well, what do you say to my proposition?”

Haydn stood and looked down at his grandfather’s upturned face. “The price you demand for your gift is too high. I will marry if and when the right woman crosses my path.”

“There’s another thing.” The Old Man continued as if he hadn’t heard Haydn’s refusal. “I’m not going to tell anyone that you are my grandson, and I don’t want you to tell them either. I don’t want any money-grubbers making eyes at you just because they think you’ll get my money.” Cackling, he settled back in his chair with a self-satisfied grunt.

What arrogance.

If only finding a wife was so simple.

Y
ou went inside the Keller mansion?” Annie asked as soon as she arrived at the Polsons’ home.

Gladys groaned. “I might as well have announced my plans at church. I made so much noise hammering that everyone knew I was there. Why don’t I think things through?”

They heard a soft knock on the door. Gladys opened the door to Ruth, Birdie standing behind her.

Gladys hadn’t known whether Birdie would join their mission projects or not, but she rolled out the welcome mat for her guest. Birdie took her seat, placing a bag filled with yellow flowered calico beside her. Since she had left the Betwixt ’n’ Between Saloon, she had taken up sewing to earn a living.

Gladys brought out a cup and plate and fixed Birdie a tea serving. Dressed in a quiet slate blue dress and with her hair pulled back in a simple bun, the former saloon girl looked much closer in age to herself than she had guessed. Gladys resolved to make her feel at home.

“I was just telling Annie about my disastrous attempt to meet up with Mr. Keller.” Gladys took out her quilt block.

“I wouldn’t call it disastrous.” Ruth was hemming tea towels. “You met Mr. Keller. That’s more than any of us have ever done.”

“And you met a handsome stranger.” Annie wiggled her eyebrows. “A
young
handsome stranger.”

“Haydn Johnson.” The name tripped off Gladys’s tongue in a single breath. “He was very kind.”

Annie’s knitting needles continued clacking together. She wanted to send more socks to her brother who was serving with the cavalry up in Wyoming. “He caught her when she fell off the stepladder. And he built up the fire—”

“Brrr, it was freezing in there. I’m surprised Mr. Keller hasn’t caught cold.” Gladys shivered.

“—and he fixed tea. A man serving tea!” Annie giggled.

“He sounds like quite a gentleman.” Birdie took out a length of calico and began working on a seam.

“I doubt I’ll see him again. I hope Mr. Keller doesn’t slam the door in my face when I go back.” Gladys tied off a quilt knot beneath the fabric.

“God led you to Mr. Keller for a reason. I’m sure He’ll show you the way.” Birdie spoke with a quiet faith.

“Thank you for that reminder. I’m not doing this all on my own, am I?”

“At least you’ve started. So far, God hasn’t answered my prayers for guidance.” Ruth flattened out the bottom of the towel and changed the thread in her needle to embroidery thread.

Conversation flowed back and forth while they continued work on their projects. Gladys finished her quilt block first. “It’s time for me to get to the diner for my shift. Is anyone in the mood for some of Aunt Kate’s pie?”

“I’ve got to get home. Ma’s expecting me.” Annie finished her row and put away her knitting needles.

“I’ll come with you.” The upper half of a fancy
F
appeared on the tea towel Ruth was working on. “Birdie, would you care to join us?”

Birdie shook her head. “No, not this time, thank you.”

Before they left, Gladys rinsed the dishes and slipped into her coat. Soon the four of them walked down the street, the ground beneath their feet the perfect firmness of a sunny winter day. At the corner, Gladys and Ruth bid good-bye to Annie and Birdie and headed for the town square. The Keller mansion was on the way.

“It looks very festive.” As always, Ruth found something nice to say.

Gladys stared as they approached, trying to decide. “It looks half finished.” As they neared the house, the front door opened, and Mr. Johnson stepped out.

Although Gladys immediately turned her attention aside, he bounded down the lawn to the street. “Miss Polson! How nice to see you again.” He joined the two of them without asking permission.

Gladys slowed down. She couldn’t outrun him. “Good day, Mr. Johnson.” She managed a weak smile. “This is my friend Ruth Fairfield. She’s our local schoolteacher.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mr. Johnson dipped his head to acknowledge the introduction before turning his attention back to Gladys. “I hoped you were returning to finish hanging the baskets. When you do, I want to help.”

Gladys’s cheeks grew warm enough that the cold air stung her heated skin. “I would love to. When would be a good time?”

“My—Mr. Keller is an early riser. Anytime during the day is fine.”

“Are you staying with Mr. Keller, then, Mr. Johnson?” Ruth asked the question that was weighing on Gladys’s mind.

“Yes.” Haydn didn’t offer a reason for his visit.

They reached Aunt Kate’s diner. “This is our destination.” Gladys paused, unsure if Mr. Johnson planned to join them.

He opened the door for the ladies and followed them inside. Gladys headed for the counter and draped an apron round her neck.

“Who is that tall drink of water?” Aunt Kate, Gladys’s plump, pleasant relative, inquired while she exchanged her apron for a coat. “Is he someone you know?”

Rather than get into a lengthy explanation, Gladys simply said, “He’s staying with Mr. Keller.” Aunt Kate headed out the back door, and Gladys brought a copy of the menu to the table where Mr. Johnson had taken a seat with Ruth. They looked so cozy, she wished she could join them. But she helped at the diner to give Aunt Kate a break. The pocket change was welcome as well.

“What do you recommend?” Mr. Johnson lifted his eyes from the menu. “I wouldn’t mind a meal. I’ve been fixing most of our food, and I’m not fond of my own cooking.”

Gladys laughed. “You fix a good cup of tea, at least. I believe Aunt Kate has chicken and noodles left over from lunch.”

“I’ll take a bowl, then, with a slice of dried apple pie with sharp cheese.”

After Gladys waited on the other customers in the diner, Mr. Johnson called her to the table. “Are you allowed to sit with the customers?”

“For you she’ll make an exception,” Aunt Kate said as she bustled back into the room. One of the friendliest souls in Calico, she would gladly encourage Mr. Johnson’s acquaintance with Gladys. She refilled their coffee cups.

Gladys brought a cup of coffee for herself as well as food for Ruth and Haydn. She slipped onto a chair next to Ruth, across from Mr. Johnson.

Goodness, he was handsome. And to think she might never have met him if she hadn’t decided to hang baskets on Mr. Keller’s house.