Hometown Cinderella: Hometown Cinderella\The Inn at Hope Springs (7 page)

The words sounded so sincere and friendly that Gideon couldn’t help but take another look at Mrs. Keller. He nodded his head once before releasing the brake and giving the reins a slap.

His spirit felt lighter, like the puffy white clouds floating high above him on the deep blue sky.

Chapter Five

M
ara kept finding excuses to step outside and look up and down the road. It was half past five and Dietrich had not yet returned. Had Mr. Jakeman meant to bring him home himself or would he send Dietrich home by foot alone?

The sun was setting and the sea across the road in the bay was already taking a gray cast. The breeze caused Mara to shiver and wrap her wool shawl more tightly around herself. She stood a while longer at the end of their drive, looking down the road. She couldn’t see the Jakeman farm from here as the dirt road dipped and climbed in a few shallow risings between the two properties.

She bit her lip, wondering what was keeping Dietrich so long. Soon, she’d have to have supper on the table. Another meal to be endured sitting across from Carina.

Mara sighed. She had half a mind to walk the distance to the Jakeman farm. She’d have to let Carina know.

Just as she was turning to go in, not yet sure if she wanted to face her stepmother’s sharp questions, she thought she heard the sound of wheels against the dirt. She held her breath, praying it was Dietrich, and stood, waiting, her fingers gripping her shawl.

She let out a breath of relief at the sight of the buckboard cresting the slope and the young boy on one side of the seat. The driver wasn’t Mr. Jakeman but his daughter.

As soon as Dietrich saw her, he began waving and bouncing on his seat. “Mama, Mama!”

Mara couldn’t help a smile. “Sit still or you’ll fall off,” she said as soon as he was close enough to hear her without shouting.

She smiled at Lizzie who returned it with a wide smile of her own. “Good evening, Lizzie. Thank you for bringing home my son. I didn’t want to trouble you.”

Lizzie guided the wagon into the drive. “No trouble at all, ma’am.”

“May I have a kitten, please? I was going to bring one back today, but Mr. Jakeman said to wait and ask you. May I, please, Mama? They’re so tiny, all gray and black and fuzzy. I could put my finger up to their mouths and they’d start sucking.” He laughed at the idea and Mara could only smile back, feeling a sudden surge of love for her dark-haired boy.

Lizzie drew up the wagon. Before Mara could help Dietrich down, he had jumped to the ground and went off toward the barn.

“Don’t go too far. We’ll be eating supper soon. You need to wash up.”

“I won’t,” he shouted back. “I just want to find Paul and tell him about the kittens.”

“Very well.”

Mara made her way to Lizzie’s side of the wagon. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, Mrs. Keller.” The young girl’s cheeks turned rosy. “Truth was I wanted an excuse to come by.”

“You don’t need an excuse. You’re welcome anytime.”

The girl bobbed her head shyly. “That’s nice of you, ma’am.”

“Would you like to come in now?”

“Thank you, but I have to get back to Papa.” There was a wistful look in her pale green eyes. “Maybe next time.”

“Yes.” She wished she could say or do something for the girl, but she didn’t feel at liberty to offer much, since she felt as if she were a guest in her own house. “Wait a moment. I’d like to send something along home with you.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“But I’d like to.” Mara hurried into the house. Quickly, she took the lid off the cake pan and cut a generous portion of a coffee cake she had baked that morning and set it on a piece of parchment paper.

At that moment, Carina entered the kitchen. Mara tensed but continued what she was doing.

“I thought I heard someone—oh, it’s just you.”

“Yes.”

Carina strode to the window, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor. Mara looked over her shoulder, following her stepmother’s movements. Carina flicked back the lace curtain and peered through. “What’s she doing here?”

Mara reined in her impatience. “She brought Dietrich back.”

“Back? Where was he?”

“He went to visit the Jakemans.”

“He did, did he? Hope he didn’t make a nuisance of himself.”

Mara ground her teeth to keep from saying anything and concentrated on continuing to wrap the piece of cake. She cut a length of string and tied it around the square. “Let me take this to her so she can be on her way.”

She didn’t breathe easier until she was back outside. “Here you go, a piece of cake for you and your father with your coffee tomorrow.”

Lizzie took it from her, her face showing her gratitude. “Oh, Mrs. Keller, you shouldn’t have, but if it’s anything like that last one you made, I know Papa and I’ll enjoy it.”

“Well, it’s not nearly as fancy, just coffee cake, but I hope you two like it. Please tell your father I’m more grateful than I can say for his patience with Dietrich. I know Dietrich can be quite restless at his age, but he doesn’t mean any harm.”

Lizzie set the wrapped cake on the seat beside her as if it was a fragile piece of glass. “Goodness, Dietrich wasn’t any more restless than any boy I know.”

“He didn’t break anything, did he?”

Lizzie laughed. “’Course he didn’t. Wherever did you get that idea?”

Mara thought of the bowl that had slipped through his fingers while helping clear the table the other night and Carina’s sharp words. “Oh, I just know boys can be careless.”

“You set your mind at rest. He did fine. Oh, ma’am—” the girl’s light-colored eyebrows scrunched together “—would you like one of them kitties? I promised Dietrich I’d ask you.”

“If it were up to me, I’d say yes.” She glanced behind her toward the house and discerned Carina’s shadow behind the curtain. “But let me ask my— Mrs. Blackstone first.”

Lizzie only nodded. “Sure. Just let us know. In the meantime, the kitties’ll be waiting.”

Mara smiled. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’d best be going.”

After a final exchange of thanks and well-wishes, Mara stepped back and watched as the girl maneuvered the buckboard down the drive. With a wave, she headed up the road.

Mara wondered fleetingly what her reception would be. Her father would be relieved to see her home. They’d probably sit down to supper together. She envisioned a cozy tableau. Would he take a bit of her cake tonight? Or wait till tomorrow?

What was she thinking? Why did she care? With a shake of her head, she spun around. “Dietrich!” she called as she entered through the woodshed. “Dietrich!”

“Just a moment, Mama,” he called back, his voice coming from the barn.

“Come in to supper.”

As Mara reentered the kitchen, Dietrich’s footsteps pounded on the wooden floorboards of the woodshed. A few moments later, he burst into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of Carina.

“Mercy, child, that’s no way to enter a house.”

“Come and wash up,” Mara told him, cutting off anything more Carina would say.

Mara hurried about, placing the food on the table. “Dietrich, don’t take too long at the sink. You need to set the table.”

Their suppers were simple, little more than bread and butter, fruit compote, a glass of milk for Dietrich, tea or buttermilk for Carina and herself.

Afterward, as she went up to tuck Dietrich into bed, she had a hard time getting him to settle down. After he’d knelt by his bed and said his prayers, Mara took up the book by his bedside to begin their story time, but every few minutes, he interrupted her reading.

“Mama, did you know Mr. Jakeman has a pig they call Gertrude? She’s so big.” Dietrich stretched both arms wide. “She has her own pen and is all black and just lies there.”

Mara nodded. “Is that so?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He nodded vigorously.

A few moments later, he said, “And he has some sheep in a pasture high on a hill beyond the fields. He took me up there with their dog, Samson. You know why they call him Samson?”

She set the book on her lap with a smile. “No, dear, why is that?”

“’Cause he’s so strong. Do you know, he can get all the sheep to come back to the barn?”

“Yes, that’s why those dogs are usually called sheepdogs.”

“Yes, that’s what he said. And he has some cows. They’re brown-and-white. And some—” He scrunched up his nose as if trying to think of the word. “Oxen!” Dietrich sighed. “They have a nice house.”

Mara waited to see if he would describe it. She wondered what it was like inside. She had only glimpsed it in passing, a small cape-style house, mostly obscured by the tall maples growing alongside the road in front of their property.

But Dietrich said no more.

“Did you go inside?” she asked.

He nodded his head. “Lizzie gave me a glass of milk and some oatmeal cookies. She baked them herself. She does all the cooking for her and her papa.”

Mara thought of how it had been for her and her father so long ago. “Yes, I imagine she learned how to do that after her mother died.”

Dietrich was pensive a few moments, so Mara took up the story again.

“I’m glad we came back to America to live.”

Mara blinked at his words. She had been so worried that life would be difficult for him because it was so different from what he had known.

“I’m glad.” Quietly, she closed their storybook. “What do you like best?”

“Going to the Jakemans,” he said without hesitation.

She had not expected such an unequivocal response after only one visit. Should she caution him against becoming a pest? But she didn’t want to squash his happiness. He’d had too little of it lately. He never spoke of his father—or of his death. Klaus had been like a stranger to his only child since almost the moment of Dietrich’s birth.

Was he so starved for male companionship that he would latch on to the first male who showed him the least attention? Mara bit her lip, not sure what she should do.

Mara set the book down on the bedside stand and tucked Dietrich in. “Good night, dear.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, which smelled of soap. Tenderness welled up in her heart and she thanked God for the son He’d given her. In the midst of every trial and tribulation in her life, Dietrich had been the bright spot, making the struggle worth it.

“You want to get a good night’s sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

“Good night, Mama.” He didn’t protest having to go to sleep. His mind already seemed elsewhere, and Mara wondered if it was on the Jakeman farm. Or, had Mr. Jakeman just managed to tire her son out enough that he was already more asleep than awake?

Mara turned down the kerosene lamp and stepped out of the room.

Gideon rowed his skiff back to his beach with the incoming tide. He was satisfied with the good load of fish he’d caught on his lines. He stepped out into the shallow water and dragged the boat up on shore.

As he began hauling the fish out, he heard a shout from the ridge above. Lizzie was waving. He waved back. Then he saw a dark-haired, smaller figure beside her and he smiled. Dietrich.

The boy immediately began scrambling down the path to the beach.

“Hello, Mr. Jakeman,” he said breathlessly. “What did you catch?”

“Hello, Dietrich. Let’s see.” He made a point of looking into the bushel basket. “Mostly haddock and cod. But I got a nice halibut and some pollock.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Salt them in barrels, sell some of them and keep some for winter.”

“May I help you?”

Gideon gave the boy his full attention. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

The boy kicked at the round stones of the beach. “She’s not home.”

“Oh. Is anyone home?”

“Paul.” The boy’s mouth turned downward. “And Mrs. Blackstone.”

“Do any of them know you’re here?”

He shook his head, still looking downward. “I walked home from school with Lizzie.”

Gideon thought a moment, unsure what to do. “Where is your mother?”

The boy looked up at him, his brown eyes puzzled. His skin was pale like his mother’s, with a very light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His hair was so straight and shiny it reminded Gideon of a sable paintbrush. “She had to go to town.”

“When will she be back?”

“Not for a while. She told me it wouldn’t be before supper.”

“Did she walk?”

The boy nodded.

Gideon had the sudden desire to be able to offer her a ride home again, but knew almost as soon as the desire was formed that that would be impractical. But what he could do was look out for her son.

He took a deep breath. “Very well. You can help me carry these baskets up to the yard and we’ll put them in the salt barrels.”

Dietrich broke into a grin, which filled Gideon with a pleasure that expanded through his whole chest. He couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle the boy’s hair. “Come along,” he said in a gruff tone, to mask his deeper feelings. In that moment, he realized how much he missed not having had a son.

He would give his life for his daughter—and no one could ask for a better helper and companion.

But what if Elsie had lived and they had had more children, sons and daughters? He could picture them around the kitchen table filled with offspring.