Pamela Nissen

Rocky Mountain Match


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      “Why, Joseph!” Julia perched a hand on his forearm. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

      “Julia Cranston, this is Miss Ellickson.” He felt Julia stiffen, as though some invisible rod just shot up her back.

      “Good morning, Miss Cranston,” his teacher said.

      Julia threaded an arm through his. “Miss Ellickson, you say? I don’t recall the name from around here.”

      He could only imagine the confused look on her face. Even though her family had arrived just months ago from Boston, she was already familiar with everyone within twenty square miles.

      “You must be new to the area,” Julia finally conceded.

      “I arrived just Saturday,” Miss Ellickson answered stiffly.

      “Miss Ellickson is here from Iowa. Ben sent for her to—to carry out some training I may need.” The admission needled him.

      “Whatever would you need training for, Joseph?” Julia sidled closer, her voice rising in pitch. “Uncle Edward says you’re the finest craftsman this side of the Rockies.”

      He sighed. “Not training in carpentry. Training in case my sight doesn’t return—right away.” Or at all, he thought, the very prospect making his stomach churn.

      “This certainly is a shock!” She hesitated, then patted his hand. “Well, you poor thing, Joseph, looking pitiful in those wraps the way you do. Maybe you should be back in bed?”

      He winced at her choice of words. He didn’t want to be pitied. “I’m fine. Really. What brings you here, anyway?”

      “I stopped by the shop thinking, of course, that you’d be there working your little heart out after being in bed for so long.” Her voice was loud enough to call in cattle. “You can imagine my surprise when Aaron said you were still at home.”

      “My eyes are bandaged, not my ears.” He dug his fingers into the chair’s thick stuffing. “I can hear you just fine.”

      “Of course. As I was saying,” she continued, the pitch of her voice showing no noticeable change. “I brought you a most wonderful meal. I’m quite certain you’ll be very pleased.”

      A tantalizing aroma wafted to his senses, penetrating the cloud of perfume. He tried not to show his surprise at her sudden display of domestic prowess. “Did you make this yourself?”

      “Well, I…not exactly. But I gave Cook very specific instructions. She absolutely puts me to shame, Joseph,” she simpered, then whisked out of the front room toward the kitchen. “I am simply dreadful in the kitchen.”

      “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You probably do a fine job,” he called after her, but remembering the sawdust taste of the cookies she’d made last week, he was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

      “You’re a dear to say so. But I dare say that I won’t be winning any first-place ribbons in the pie-baking contest at the town celebration.” Julia’s high-pitched laughter shot through his house like bolts of lightning. “Come and eat, Joseph.”

      Vile fear wrapped around him when the almost twenty feet he had to go suddenly felt more like a mile. Perspiration beaded his forehead and a slow trembling coursed through his body like deadly venom. His pulse pounded in his head, throwing off his concentration. He gritted his teeth. Drew in a shuddering breath. Just as he started forward with his hands outstretched, he felt a light touch on his arm.

      “Mr. Drake,” Miss Ellickson whispered beside him as she gently guided his hand to her elbow. “Would you be so kind as to escort me to the table?”

      He jerked his head down to her, ready to refuse. But the overwhelming relief he felt as she led him with steady measured steps to the kitchen brought his protest up short.

      “You must be positively famished,” Julia gushed.

      When Miss Ellickson placed his hand on the back of a dining chair, he whispered, “Thanks.”

      Bracing his hands on the chair, he willed the trembling to stop. “So, what do we have here?”

      Over a deep sigh, he could hear Boone’s lumbering gait coming toward him. Joseph could just see the dog throwing his tail lazily from side to side as he swaggered across the room.

      “Oh no, Joseph! Are you going to let that horrid animal sit here while you eat? God only knows where she’s been.” No doubt Julia’s pink lips were pursed tight, her small nose wrinkled in disgust. She never did like Boone and wasn’t shy about saying so. “I don’t see how you can stand having Bongo in your house like you do.”

      “Boone,” he corrected, irritated that she could never seem to get his dog’s name right. “And ‘she’s’ a ‘he.’”

      “Boone, Bongo, he, she…it matters not to me. The beast is just so uncouth. Mother would surely faint if she could see it in your house. Why, that creature is nearly a horse.”

      “He’s a dog, and he’s fine. He minds his manners.”

      Lowering himself to the long trestle table, he trailed his fingers along the sturdy walnut’s smooth finish, remembering when he’d crafted the piece. He’d built it, eager for the day when his wife and children would be seated here with him.

      Julia clanged silverware against a plate, jerking him out of his reverie and invoking a fast-building sense of dread. That anxiety multiplied by ten as he realized that this would be the first time since his accident that he’d sat down for a meal.

      “Everything is all set for you, Joseph. You can eat now.”

      He swallowed hard. Clenching his fists in his lap, he wondered what everything was…pork and beans, soup, chicken? He had no idea what she’d laid out or where it was located on the table. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow, his pulse pounded a deafening rhythm in his head.

      “I wasn’t planning on joining you, but maybe—”

      “No, that’s not necessary,” he quickly cut in.

      “Honestly, I did have plans to have tea with Colleen Teller, the senator’s daughter,” she twittered. “Of course, I’d have to go home and change. It would simply be unacceptable if she were to see me wearing my new dress today and then again for the celebration. Don’t you think?”

      He offered a hearty nod, thankful she had other plans.

      “Well, then, by all means let me see you out, Miss Cranston. You won’t want to be late,” Miss Ellickson clipped off.

      “That’s completely unnecessary. I can see myself out.” Julia clutched his hand and leaned closer, her perfume nearly choking him. “Maybe I should stay. What do you think, Joseph?” A whine of regret laced her whispered words. “I suppose I could reschedule with Colleen. Her agenda is busy, but I’m sure—”

      “Please, go. Have your lunch with Colleen. I’d rather eat alone.” He braced his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Miss Ellickson, you can take a dinner break, too. There’s a good diner just down the road—have them put your bill on my tab.”

      “I’ll be joining you here. Thank you all the same,” she responded quietly.

      Julia’s sharp intake of breath wasn’t lost on Joseph. She grasped his shoulder. “Miss…Miss Ellington—”

      “Ellickson.” Joseph shook his head.

      Her nails bit into his flesh. “Miss Ellickson, perhaps you didn’t hear Joseph. He said he’d rather dine alone. If you—”

      “Julia, I can handle this,” he ground out, disgusted at her steely tone. Although he’d taken her on a few outings in the past two months, he didn’t fancy being treated like some possession of hers. “Miss Ellickson, you’re probably in need of a break. I’m sure I can handle it on my own.”