Authors: Lorna Seilstad
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance, #General, #FIC042040, #FIC042030, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction
The elderly woman’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. “Two young folks headed into the dark mill. I know what that means. How long have you two been courting?”
“Lewis and I are friends.” Charlotte glanced at him to confirm her words. “We work together.”
“It’s fine to take things slow.” The woman laid a wrinkled hand on Charlotte’s arm. “You can’t rush affairs of the heart.”
Rushing in without being sure? That was the story of Charlotte’s life.
“Mother.” The middle-aged man blotted his face with a handkerchief as the line moved forward. “Don’t bother the young people.”
“She’s not bothering us.” Lewis offered the man his hand. “I’m Lewis Mathis, and this is Charlotte Gregory. We work for the gas company, and Charlotte will be doing a cooking demonstration in Excelsior tomorrow.”
The man’s wife brightened. “I saw that advertisement. You must be quite a cook.”
“She is.” Lewis beamed.
“I’d love to own my own kitchen someday,” Charlotte said.
The older woman chuckled and glanced at Lewis. “I have a feeling you’ll have your own kitchen sooner than you think.”
“Yes.” The gentleman flashed a knowing smile at his wife. “When you get married, you’ll certainly have a kitchen of your own.”
Charlotte’s face warmed. “That’s not what I meant. I enjoy cooking for others, so I expect my life may take a different course.”
The elderly woman laughed again. “Oh, sweetheart, most of our pleasures come when we least expect them.”
“That’s true.” Lewis grinned. “Thank you, ma’am.” They stepped to the front of the line. “I think it’s our turn. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark. I wouldn’t want you holding on to me for dear life or anything.”
His teasing words relaxed her, and she slipped into the boat beside him without a second thought. They were friends, and even riding through a dark tunnel wouldn’t change that.
Lewis, as she had suspected, remained the perfect gentleman. He didn’t try to sneak a kiss in the tunnel, but he did hold her hand. When they finished at the mill, they laughed their way through the roller coaster and the scenic railway. Once the sun set, the lights came on, turning the park into a constellation. Charlotte asked about the electric beacon mounted on a tower in the park’s center.
“It’s nearly two hundred feet high, and the light can be seen for miles.” Lewis took her elbow and ushered her around a group who’d come to a stop. “We can go to the music hall or have dinner. Your choice.”
“Why don’t you choose this time? You’ve let me make the decisions all day.”
“As well you should.” He slowed his long stride when she couldn’t keep up. “But if you insist, I have to admit I’m starved.”
After dinner, as they walked back toward the streetcar boats, Charlotte couldn’t help but think how romantic this setting was. Lewis had been so sweet all day. He’d been the perfect companion, and they’d enjoyed good conversation.
If God had placed him in her life, shouldn’t she feel something special for him? Even when he’d captured her hand in the dark tunnel of the mill ride, no thrill shot through her. Would those feelings come in time?
She touched the bandage on her finger. The jolt of Joel’s tender touch fired through her. But that made no sense. Lewis was the kind of man she’d been praying for. He treated her like a queen. He
made no efforts to push her into anything. Most of the time, Joel, on the other hand, treated her like a bad itch that wouldn’t go away.
They boarded the
Minnehaha
and took a seat on the first level. As the boat picked up speed, Lewis offered her his coat since the air had grown chilly. She declined. She welcomed the bite of the breeze on her warm cheeks.
She glanced again at Lewis—young, intelligent, talented, and sweet. Why couldn’t she make herself like him in a romantic way? Maybe she was destined to make poor choices when it came to men.
Never again, she’d vowed, would a man control her and try to change her. Lewis wouldn’t do that, but Joel certainly might.
Her pulse raced and she made a decision. She had to stand firm. No matter how many sparks Joel Brooks fired through her, she needed to be ready to douse every one.
Saturday took forever to arrive. Joel grabbed his swimsuit out of a dresser drawer and shoved it into his doctor’s bag before putting on his coat and leaving home. He and Knute hadn’t had as much rowing practice as he’d have liked, but he hoped they could do well in the Lake Minnetonka Yacht Club’s regatta. Even if they didn’t win, the trip would be worth it if he ran into Charlotte.
What was he thinking? If he had any brains in his head, he’d paddle down another stream altogether. He didn’t need to complicate his life with a relationship, but he couldn’t stop himself either.
Again he’d felt that prodding.
But God didn’t seem to be divulging why he’d been nudging Joel in Charlotte’s direction.
One by one, the rest of the Saint Paul Boat Club’s rowing team arrived at the station and boarded a streetcar. They switched to another line south of Minneapolis that would take them all the way to Lake Minnetonka. He could have driven, but why would he when the bright yellow streetcars traveled almost a mile a minute and could make the trip much more quickly and more economically than his motorcar? A one-way trip for a quarter suited him fine.
He slid into a seat by the window, and Knute scooted in beside him. As the sun awoke over the horizon, the streetcar skimmed along Lake Calhoun’s edge and plunged into a wooded area.
Knute covered his mouth with his fist and yawned. “I hate these
early morning heats. Why isn’t there a rule that rowing regattas should start after noon?”
“And go on past sunset?” Joel raised his eyebrows. “No thank you.” He had no intention of being on the water after dark. He had other plans.
He removed the note with Charlotte’s itinerary from his coat pocket, and guilt pricked him. He shouldn’t have taken it from the hall table at Mrs. Phillips’s house after Charlotte left the other day. She’d obviously left it for Tessa, but if anything happened to Mrs. Phillips, he’d be the first to know. And should the need arise, he wanted to be the one to contact Charlotte.
“What’s that?” Knute leaned over to read the note.
Joel folded the note in half, the paper crinkling in his palm. “Just the schedule of a friend who’s going to be at the lake.”
Knute’s dark eyebrows arched. “A male or female friend?”
Joel stared out the window, his mouth clamped shut.
“Your silence tells me it’s a woman.”
“Silence is seldom equated with women.” Joel chuckled. “And in this case,
silent
is not a word I’d use to describe my friend.”
“So it is a lady friend. Tell me about her. Is she pretty?”
Joel shot him a scowl. The last thing he needed was Knute making this into more than it was.
“Or maybe she’s dreadful. Ugly as a cartload of—”
Joel’s elbow found its mark in Knute’s side.
His friend grunted. “What was that for? I was going to say, ‘Ugly as a cartload of corn cobs.’ Apparently you’re a little touchy about this lady friend of yours. So, will I get to meet her?”
Joel shrugged. “I haven’t yet decided if I’m going to see her myself.”
“Trust me. You will.”
“And why is that?”
“No one has made you act like this since Prudence Townsend.”
“And that ended so well.” Sarcasm drenched his words.
“Hey, buddy.” Knute lowered his voice. “I know how much it
must have hurt when you caught her kissing Goodwin Nyland of all people, but you’ve got to take a chance again someday.”
“And what would you know about taking chances?” The streetcar rounded a curve then plunged into a valley.
“Back in college, I picked you for my team, didn’t I?” Laughter rumbled in Knute’s chest. “Biggest chance I ever took.”
Joel sighed and gazed out the window. Did Knute have a point? Thinking about the moment when he’d caught his fiancée, the woman he’d loved, in the arms of another man still stung like it had happened yesterday. Was it time to take a chance again on someone new?
One thing was for sure, if that person were Charlotte Gregory, it would certainly be the biggest chance he ever took.
After slipping the apron over her neck, Charlotte tied the strings in a neat bow. Since this was lake country, she decided on easy-to-prepare summer fare. The newest special sandwich called a French dip was sure to be a hit with the ladies. They’d be surprised to learn how easily a beef roast could be placed in the gas oven before heading out for a day at the lake. Without the need to stoke any fires, the lady of the house could enjoy her day and return to find her meat ready to serve. Accompanied by broiled tomatoes and a puff pastry basket, the meal would appear as if it had taken hours to prepare. Only the cook herself would know the truth.
Everything on Charlotte’s demonstration table was in order, with the ingredients lined up like toy soldiers. Joel would approve of the table’s tidy appearance.
Her finger! She withdrew the rubber nipple from her pocket and rolled it over the tip of her index finger. A perfect fit.
“Charlotte.” Lewis laid his hand on her arm. “Since I’ll be leaving before you finish your lecture, I wanted to come say goodbye now.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Lewis.”
He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I also
wanted to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed every moment I’ve been with you these last few days—the time at the amusement park, the walk by the lake, and dancing with you last night.”
Heat warmed Charlotte’s cheeks. They had spent a great deal of time together the last three days. Talking with Lewis was pleasant, and she found his sweet nature a delightful contrast to George’s. She could see his feelings were budding, and even though she wasn’t sure she felt the same way, she’d accepted when he’d asked her to dance after dinner at the Excelsior Bay Hotel.
Dancing came as easily to him as music, but when the song was over, she’d not yearned to be in his arms any longer. Maybe, like Molly said, that would come in time. Maybe she wasn’t giving Lewis a fair chance to win her heart.
He removed one hand from his pocket and covered hers. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Charlotte, I wanted to ask you if it would be all right to call on you when we’re back in Saint Paul.”
Oh dear. She wasn’t ready for that question. What would Joel say if he came and saw Lewis there?
Joel? Good grief. He even argued with her in her thoughts now.
She looked at Lewis worrying his lower lip and forced a smile. “I’m not sure this is the proper time, with my aunt being ill.”
His eyes widened and he pulled his hand from hers. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Of course, you’re right. May I at least telephone you to see how she is faring?”
His concern touched her, and a telephone call should be of no harm. “That would be most kind.”
“Then, I’ll be thinking of you until our next lecture circuit begins.” He dipped his head before taking his place in front of the crowd.
Charlotte leaned against the worktable as he began to sing. His deep bass voice almost made the room throb. Many of the ladies were clearly moved by his crooning, and one young lady in the front row appeared ready to swoon.
It was odd how much more handsome the lanky young man
had grown to be in the few short weeks they’d known each other. Instead of seeing a man who seemed all awkward limbs, she now saw a kind, thoughtful soul. A friend. But no more than that.
Whenever he stepped in front of the crowd, he became someone else—confident and almost flirty. He glanced her way and smiled as he sang, “Cuddle up a little closer, lovey mine.”
Oh my. Could she imagine ever cuddling with him?
Turning away, she pretended to examine her notes. Lewis didn’t make her heart soar, but he was a good, godly man, and she didn’t want to end up alone. Yet she didn’t want to rush into anything either. Look what had happened when she’d quickly given her heart to George. She’d promised herself there would be no repeats of her earlier behavior. No, this time she wouldn’t let her heart rule her head.
After referring to Charlotte’s itinerary, Joel didn’t take long to locate the large brick hardware store in Deephaven where she was scheduled to speak. Inside the store’s display room, he was surprised to find standing room only. He moved along the back row until he found a spot where he could see Charlotte if he craned his neck to the right.
As soon as he saw her, he felt a prickle of sweat on the back of his neck. She had on a pretty blue striped dress covered with a ruffled white apron. Her hair was pulled up, but she wore no hat or cap. Had it been a mistake to come here? It wasn’t too late to sneak back out. She’d never even know.
He froze when she glanced in his direction. Had she seen him? No. There was no recognition on her face, only a bright smile she apparently reserved for the public and not for him.
She opened the door of a shiny gas oven and removed a golden-brown loaf of bread. Its scent permeated the room and his stomach growled. He’d been in a hurry to get here after they’d won their first heat. His 5:00 a.m. breakfast wasn’t going to hold him over
much longer. He drew in a lungful of air. Something else smelled delicious. Apples? Had she made a pie? Or that scrumptious apple charlotte from the other day?
Charlotte explained each step as she worked. She added in time-saving tidbits and ideas they could use at home. He marveled at how she simplified complicated concepts about nutrition.
Maybe she should speak to the nurses and hospital cooks.
Unfortunately, how well his patients ate was not his greatest concern. Before he left work yesterday, one of the nurses had broken the sphygmomanometer. He’d spoken to Dr. Ancker about it and was told he’d pass on the request to Terrence Ruckman. Although Arthur said Joel should be able to order one right away, he had his doubts.
“Now, ladies, before we open the table up for your sampling pleasure, I want to leave you with one thought.” Charlotte stood in front of the table with her hands folded. “My mentor, Miss Fannie Farmer, once said, ‘Progress in civilization has been accompanied by progress in cookery.’” She motioned to the oven behind her, and Joel spotted the baby bottle nipple on her finger. He smiled to himself. Good. At least the beautiful, stubborn lady was using it.
“This gas oven is indeed progress,” she said. “It is progress in cookery, but as Miss Farmer said, it is also progress in civilization. Because of this appliance, you ladies will no longer be a slave to your kitchens. You can enjoy the art and science of cookery, and you can serve your family better and more healthy food than ever before. Join me in a step forward for women everywhere and insist you have a gas stove in your home.”