The Christmas Bargain (2 page)

“But, Pa…” she said. Luke was surprised by the soft, husky voice.

Leaning her direction, Alford sneered and raise his hand menacingly. “Don’t ya start that sass with me. Get to it.”

Philamena ducked her head, gathered up the dishes and washed them without saying a word. She disappeared through an open door off the kitchen and was soon back with a small bundle tied up in a burgundy and green quilt.

Luke stood from the table, pinning Alford in place with an irate glare. Turning toward Philamena he felt more pity for the woman than words could express. He couldn’t begin to imagine how awful it would be to live with a man like Alford.

“May I help you with your coat, miss? The ride back to town might be chilly,” Luke said as he stepped next to Philamena. Although she was dressed in dowdy, shabby clothes, they were pressed and clean. That told Luke a lot about her sense of personal pride. Someone, at some point, had taught her well.

“She ain’t got a coat. No need for one since she don’t go nowhere. Too homely for any man to come courtin’.  She’ll be fine. Wouldn’t be the first time out in the cold for her,” Alford said, picking his teeth with a straw he’d pulled out of his pocket.

Luke swallowed down the rage that was boiling inside him at a man who apparently didn’t treat his own flesh and blood any better than he did his starving, neglected animals.

“We best head for town, then,” Luke said, opening the door for Philamena, who hesitantly took a step through. She turned, for just a moment, to give her father one last glance, then walked out toward Luke’s horse that stood tied to the one section of the yard fence not tumbling down.

Before following her out the door, Luke stared meaningfully at Alford. Although he didn’t know a thing about Philamena, he’d seen enough to know she was being abused at her father’s hand. “Let’s make one thing perfectly clear. I’ll consider your debt paid but only if you never, ever come near your daughter again. Understood?”

Alford gave him a surprised look before nodding his head. “I’m right glad to finally be rid of the troublesome snit. After twenty-seven years, she finally turned out to be worth somethin’.”

Luke stalked out the door and slammed it with enough force to break the windows that weren’t already cracked before he gave in to his urge to beat some sense into Alford.

Placing his hat on his head, Luke ate up the ground to his horse, Drake, in a few long-legged steps. Removing his coat, he draped it around Philamena’s thin shoulders. Untying the reins, Luke mounted in one smooth motion. He took the sorry little bundle of belongings from Philamena and hung it from his saddle horn before leaning down and offering her his hand. She took it without looking into his face and swung up behind him. He was somewhat taken aback by her agility and ease around a horse.

Riding back toward town, Luke tried to keep a conversation going but it was difficult when all he received was “yes” or “no” responses whispered against his back. He expected Philamena to hold onto his waist and sag against him in relief at being rescued. Instead, she held herself stiffly away from him, a firm grip on the back of his saddle keeping her seat on the horse.

Giving up on talking to her, he instead thought about the mess he’d gotten himself into as he tried to keep his teeth from chattering in the frosty chill of the November evening. What was he going to do with Miss Philamena Booth?

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Philamena had been waiting thirteen years to be rescued from the prison her father called home. When her mother passed away giving birth to a stillborn boy, her father changed from a loving, caring man into a drunken, dirty tyrant.

The last time he allowed Philamena to leave the farm was when she turned sixteen. She went into town for her birthday and bought a hair ribbon the same shade of green as her holly-colored eyes. Philamena saved up her meager pennies for months and hid the money from Pa. Begging and pleading to go to town, he finally relented.

When she came home with the ribbon tied in her thick mahogany curls, followed by one of the livery owner’s boys who had taken a shine to her, her father ripped it from her head and ordered her to stay away from town. He took away not only her freedom, but also any color from her life, forbidding her to wear anything but the ugly, plain brown garments she now wore. 

None of it made any sense to Philamena, but then again, nothing had after her mother died. Pa started drinking heavily after that with the years between becoming a blur of hard labor interrupted by his drunken rages and random beatings.

Philamena finally learned that being quiet and meek was the only thing that kept him somewhat mollified. It was difficult to see the disgusting man Alford Booth had become and remember what a gentle father and loving husband he had once been.

Back then, their farm had been prosperous, their home happy and life joyous. Now, their land was a desolate mess.

To be bartered to the local banker to pay her father’s debt somehow didn’t shock Philamena like it should. She knew Luke Granger was a kind, honest man. At least she assumed he was, recalling what she knew about him from her childhood years.

Attending the one-room school until she was fourteen, when her father imprisoned her at home, Philamena remembered Luke being a friendly, generous boy who was a few years her senior. He was the type who stood up against bullies, made sure the littlest children weren’t left out of schoolyard games, and excelled in his school work.

Like most of the girls at school, she was sweet on Luke before he went back East to college.  No wonder he grew up to be successful and own the town’s bank.

As she sat behind him on his horse, Philamena wondered just what exactly he planned to do with her. Breathing deeply, she mentally shrugged and settled his coat more tightly around her. It smelled of leather, horses, and a warm, spicy scent she could only describe as uniquely Luke.

Of all the men in their small town of Hardman to come to her rescue, Philamena would have been less mortified, but not nearly as pleased, had it been anyone else. Luke was an extremely handsome and kind man that any woman would enjoy being around.

Nearly lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the horse’s gait, Philamena struggled to stay alert. She felt her eyes sliding closed and jerked herself awake, noticing they were riding down the main street of town toward the parsonage at the Christian church, rather than toward Granger House at the far end of town.

Reining his horse to a stop outside the parsonage, Luke gave Philamena his hand and helped her dismount before stepping out of the saddle and handing the quilt-wrapped bundle to her. She dared not raise her gaze to his, and instead studied the ground as Luke took her elbow and propelled her toward the door.

She heard him rapping and felt the heat from the cozy inside of the cottage-style home flow around her when the pastor opened the door. Philamena knew from her father’s ramblings that the pastor was one of her former classmates, Chauncy Dodd. He and Luke had been good friends in school.

“Luke,” Chauncy said with a broad smile. “What brings you by this evening?”

“I’m hoping you can help me with a…um…situation,” Luke said, turning his gaze to Philamena. She clutched her little bundle tightly to her chest and studied the worn toe of her shoe.

“Who do we have here?” Chauncy asked, kindness lacing his voice. He opened the door wider and Luke escorted Philamena inside the cheery home. The yeasty smell of bread nearly made Philamena fall to her knees. It had been so long since she’d had bread, she could barely remember the delicious taste of it.

“Philamena Booth,” Luke said pushing her forward a bit. She still refused to raise her gaze and make eye contact with anyone. “She needs a place to stay tonight and I was hoping you and Abby would take her in.”

“Absolutely,” Chauncy said as a petite woman, large with child, waddled into the front room.

“Hello, Luke,” Abby said, squeezing Luke’s hand when he bent down to kiss her cheek. “I thought I heard you. Have you had supper?”

“Yes, ma’am. Miss Booth made a nice bowl of stew. Would you be able to make her comfortable tonight?”

“Most definitely,” Abby said, reaching out a hand and capturing Philamena’s. Tugging her toward the kitchen, Abby began a friendly conversation that elicited short, quiet responses from Philamena.

When the women were out of earshot, Chauncy motioned to two chairs in front of a crackling fire. “Suppose you tell me what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now.”

Luke shot his friend a warning glance and settled into the comfortable chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire. “I went out to collect from Alford Booth and he refused to pay again. When I demanded payment he said either I could take his daughter to cancel his debt or he’d sell her to Cecil. I didn’t feel I had a choice. I couldn’t let him take her to the Red Lantern.”

“No, you couldn’t, but what are you going to do with her?” Chauncy asked, studying his friend and former cohort in all sorts of boyish crimes. “You can’t leave her here indefinitely and you certainly can’t take her home with you. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“I could move her into the hotel,” Luke said, thinking about his options. “I could get her a room at the boarding house. She could have the entire second floor of my monstrous house to herself.”

“You know tongues will wag. They’ll be flapping as it is that she is finally off the farm. You don’t want to make things worse for her, do you?” Chauncy had tried many times to convince Alford to change his ways, to let Philamena leave the farm. His suggestions fell on deaf ears. He knew the minister from the Presbyterian Church tried to talk to Alford as well.

Now that Philamena was off the farm, he intended to make sure she wouldn’t have to go back. From what he knew, she would make someone a good, dutiful wife. And that someone would be Luke. Chauncy couldn’t explain how he knew this with such certainty, but he did.

Luke raked his hands through his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees. Letting out his breath, he turned and stared into the dancing flames in the hearth. “You might as well tell me what you think I should do, instead of waiting for me to get around to your way of thinking.”

Chauncy grabbed his chest and feigned a look of pain. “You wound me, Luke. When have I ever tried to talk you into anything?”

“Nearly every time I see you,” Luke said, a small smile finally cracking his full lips. “I wouldn’t have made nearly so many trips to the woodshed as a kid if it wasn’t for your suggested ideas.”

“We did have a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

“That’s beside the point,” Luke said, leaning back and turning his icy blue gaze on his long-time friend. “Let’s hear it. What do you think I should do?”

“Marry her.”

Luke bolted upright in the chair and glared at Chauncy like he’d grown a second head.  “I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly. Would you mind repeating that?”

Chauncy grinned and leaned forward. “I said you should marry her. You’ve avoided matrimony long enough. You’re pushing thirty and it is long past time for you to settle down. After all, the town banker should have a wife and a family.”

“No,” Luke grunted, annoyed at his friend. Chauncy knew the last thing he wanted was to be tied down to a woman and family. Luke’s father was a perfect example of what happened to a good man when a woman got under his skin.

Never content with their life back East, his father insisted on moving West. They settled into the town of Hardman when Luke and his sister were both very young. His father established the bank and built his mother the huge Victorian house at the edge of town everyone called the Granger House.

It wasn’t good enough.

His mother hated every day she spent in Hardman and finally talked his dad into moving back to New York, where the Granger family lived, before Luke’s sister graduated from Hardman’s school.  All too glad to escape the “wilderness,” as she called it, his mother declared she’d never again set foot in Hardman.

Although his father preferred the wide open spaces of Hardman,  he’d do anything for Dora, his wife of thirty-three years.