caught. Did she see a flicker of affection or was it simply gratitude?
He backed away and nodded curtly. “Thank you, again, Miss Porter. I must be on my way to the hotel for my meeting.”
“I hope it goes as you anticipate.”
He shoved the cap on his head. “I’m sure it will.”
They walked to the front door, where she saw him out. This time the frosty morning air didn’t bother her. She would not have to say farewell to Isaac and Sadie, after all. She would see them each and every day. Who knew where this might lead? Perhaps straight to Garrett Decker’s heart.
Garrett paused on the porch to don his cap. “I see Mr. Elder’s at the mercantile. Probably heard that the mail came in.”
The mail!
Oh, no. Her letter begging a position with the Chatsworths was on its way to New York, and she could do nothing to stop it.
Garrett surveyed the Cherry Street house the following morning. It didn’t take long to see why Stockton had readily agreed to include use of the house as part of Garrett’s compensation for taking the lead building the new ship. His excitement over putting to use skills he’d honed years ago in a Chicago shipyard waned in light of all the work that needed to be done on the house.
“The roof leaks in at least four places.” He pointed each one out to his brother. “Right next to the kitchen stove and over the table. Look how warped the tabletop is.”
“If anyone can fix it, you can.”
“I wanted to move in today.”
Roland shrugged. “You don’t need to move for a couple weeks. Why not fix what needs fixing first? It’s a lot warmer today. We could tackle the roof.”
“You?” Garrett had a tough time imagining his brother picking up a hammer, much less using it. “You couldn’t fix a crooked picture.”
He moved into the first bedroom before his brother could reply. Naturally, Roland followed.
“Another leak, over the bed,” Garrett pointed out.
“We’ll get the men from the mill to lend a hand and have it fixed by the end of the day.”
Roland was right, but Garrett hated to admit that he’d made this deal without checking out the house first. Thankfully, Roland didn’t point out that error.
“What about that project that Pearl wanted me to do?” Garrett prodded.
Roland’s future wife wanted a stable built for a nativity play she had planned for the children.
“That can wait until you move in.” Roland grinned. “Or you could stay put for another week.”
Garrett couldn’t. “I hired Miss Porter starting Monday.”
“Don’t you mean Amanda?”
Garrett scowled. “This is a business arrangement, not personal. ‘Miss Porter’ will do.”
If anything, Roland’s grin grew wider. “Good decision. She loves Sadie and Isaac and will be perfect for the job.”
Garrett bristled, the memory of nearly losing Sadie still raw. “There wasn’t anyone else.”
“Then God made sure it worked out for Amanda to get the job.”
Garrett still couldn’t wrap his mind around Roland’s newfound faith. “Maybe God didn’t have anything to do with it. Maybe it was just circumstances.”
“Maybe.” Roland’s grin said otherwise. “Either way, it ended up the best way possible.”
Garrett didn’t quite see it that way. “How can I can trust her?”
“She’s as trustworthy as Pearl.”
They’d had this argument before, but Garrett couldn’t forget what happened during the fire. “Thanks to her inattention, Sadie almost died.”
“She didn’t die.” Roland’s jaw set. “And you’re forgetting that Amanda led eleven children to safety, including Isaac.”
Garrett knew he was being unfair. After all, Pearl was the schoolteacher in charge of the children. Amanda had volunteered to help. He shouldn’t hold her to a higher standard, but Sadie’s brush with death had shaken him. It hadn’t been that long since his wife, Eva, died. Less than two years. He couldn’t bear losing anyone else.
Since this argument was leading nowhere, he put an end to the inspection. “Guess I’ll head back to the mill and round up some help.”
“Can you wait a minute? Pearl’s on her way here.”
“Why?” Garrett asked warily.
“You’ll need a woman’s opinion on what needs to be done to get the place ready.”
“I don’t need anyone else’s opinion. A woman will want to change everything.” Garrett thought back to his late wife’s demands. Nothing was ever good enough for Eva. Garrett had bought her everything he could afford, but it was never enough.
Roland walked back into the main room, which combined the kitchen and sitting area with a table for meals, study and anything else the children needed to do.
“The sideboard can go there, and the sofa would fit in that corner.” Roland pointed to various spots as he listed off the pieces of furniture that Garrett had put into storage after Eva’s death. “The china cabinet would fit in the corner.”
“Stop!” Garrett couldn’t bear another word. “None of that furniture is coming here. You use it, and I’ll haul over the things we’re using now.”
“Not a chance. Pearl would never stand for it.”
“Why? Eva’s things are a lot nicer than what we’re using now.”
“That doesn’t matter to someone like Pearl.”
That’s what bothered Garrett about Amanda. Pearl might not care about worldly things, but Amanda obviously did. Her gowns were stunning. Her hair was always fixed just so. Nothing was ever out of place. She was the very picture of the delicate female. Too much like Eva. No, his late wife’s furniture would never do.
“I can’t look at that furniture each day,” Garrett insisted.
“Pearl feels the children need to be around their mother’s things, that they won’t get past her death until they can see and touch what’s left behind. I happen to agree.”
“Stop it. First Miss Porter and now this. Stop pushing me.”
“It’ll be two years come April. You need to let go.”
“Don’t tell me what to do until you’re in my shoes.” Garrett didn’t point out that Pearl had nearly died rescuing Sadie in last month’s fire.
Judging from Roland’s expression, he didn’t need to.
* * *
“First help me out,” Pearl told Amanda as she donned her cloak in the front hallway of the boardinghouse, “and then I’ll show you how to cook some basic things, like eggs and biscuits.”
“That won’t help me for supper. He said I’d need to cook supper.”
“All right, then I’ll teach you how to make hash and stew and that sort of thing.”
“But...”
Amanda had hoped to get started early. Mrs. Calloway had approved, as long as whatever they made could be served to the boardinghouse guests. Given Amanda’s current lack of knowledge, the guests were going to suffer. The very thought of cooking something terrified her. Aside from boiling