While Love Stirs (40 page)

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Authors: Lorna Seilstad

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #Romance, #General, #FIC042040, #FIC042030, #FIC027050, #Sisters—Fiction

BOOK: While Love Stirs
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Heart racing, Joel righted the O’Grady girl and passed her to Knute. He had to get to Charlotte.

He rushed toward her. Thank goodness she had the sense to get out of O’Grady’s way. Then, without a second thought, she stuck her foot out and tripped the man. Kelly sprawled on the hallway floor.

Charlotte drew her foot back and met Joel’s gaze. He’d never been more proud of her—or more frustrated. Hefting Kelly O’Grady to his feet, he yanked one of the man’s arms behind his back.

He turned to Charlotte. “Life is always going to be messy with you around, isn’t it?”

She bit her lip. “I did warn you.”

When Charlotte returned to the ballroom with Joel, Hannah and Tessa hurried to join them.

“Is everything all right?” Hannah asked.

Charlotte smiled and glanced at Joel. “It is now. Lincoln will be back in a few minutes.”

Thankfully, Knute and Terrence offered to secure Kelly O’Grady in one of the rooms while Lincoln contacted the authorities. Besides them finding the missing five hundred dollars on Kelly, Mr. Jurgenson admitted that Kelly had been extorting money from
him in order to secure “protection” for the theater. In light of the events, he also offered to take a second look at Miss Walker and the missing box office receipts. He told Tessa he would need some office help if it all turned out to be true, so she could have her old job back. He even said he’d put in a good word for Tessa for a role in future plays.

“Joel.” Charlotte slipped her arm into the crook of Joel’s arm. “What about the money you said was missing from the hospital?”

“Ironically, Terrence said he found it. It had been allocated to the wrong department. An honest bookkeeping error. He apologized, but it didn’t look easy for him to do.” Joel narrowed his eyes. “Is that my sister dancing with Lewis?”

“Yes, I introduced them.”

“You could have introduced him to Cora Pierce.”

Charlotte touched his cheek. “Don’t scowl so. Lewis is a very sweet man.”

Hannah smiled at the two of them. “And he’s stepped up to chair the floor admirably in your absence.”

“Then I guess I’m not needed at the moment.” He turned to Tessa, then Hannah. “If I promise to have your sister back before the last waltz, may I have your permission to steal her away for a while?”

Hannah beamed. “By all means.”

Charlotte stiffened. “Don’t I get a say?”

“No,” Tessa and Hannah answered in unison.

He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

She hesitated for a moment. Tonight they were supposed to be saying goodbye forever, but instead it felt like a beginning. Could she let him take the lead? Was it all a matter of trust—not making backup plans for God, not settling for the easy road, and not refusing Joel’s request?

Who knew losing control would be harder for her than for him?

The brass revolving door swished as Charlotte stepped out of the Saint Paul Hotel on the arm of Dr. Joel Brooks. Across from the hotel, the lights in Rice Park twinkled, as if Tessa’s Tinker Bell had sprinkled the evening with fairy dust. How different this night was than the day she’d first approached the hotel and the doorman had barred her access.

Joel gave the valet parking operator his number, and in a few minutes his Model T was brought up.

When they reached the Model T, Joel helped her inside, then pulled a dark scarf off the seat. “I know you think I’m controlling, and sometimes I am, but one more time I want you to let me be in control. I promise there’s a reason for it. I want to surprise you. Will you let me put this blindfold on you?”

A blindfold? Was he kidding? She met his gaze, and even in the dim light she could see he was sincere.
Lord, please
help me make the right decision. I have a feeling
this is about a lot more than he’s saying.

She drew in a deep breath and nodded. Once she’d turned her back to him, he carefully covered her eyes with the silk scarf, then knotted it behind her head. “You can’t see, right?”

“No, nothing.”

“Good.” He eased the motorcar onto the street, explaining what was going on every step of the way but refusing to give any details about their destination.

He drove a short distance, parked the Model T, and helped her out. With her hand nestled in the crook of his arm, he led her up a set of stairs and inside a building.

“I smell rubbing alcohol.” Her voice echoed in what seemed like a hallway. “Are we in the hospital? Are you going to let me mess up your office again?”

Joel chuckled. “Be patient. You’ll know soon enough.”

She heard a few snickers as they walked down some sort of corridor. She must look quite odd in a blindfold. Joel stopped and explained he was going to push open a door and hold it for her
until she entered. Once they were both inside, he pulled a chain. Even through the blindfold she knew he’d illuminated the area.

He laid his hands on her shoulders. “Okay, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He tugged the blindfold free, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light. Then he stepped back, giving her a good view of the room.

A wall of gas stoves, shelves of dishes and pots and pans, and a long row of tables graced the room. At one end, large windows warmed the otherwise sterile kitchen.

“It’s a lovely kitchen, but why are we here?”

The corners of his lips curled. “How would you like to be in charge of the largest kitchen in the city?”

“Here? But Joel, I can’t let you talk to Dr. Ancker about me. It could cost you your position.”

“Too late. I took a chance and already did.” He swept his arm around the room. “And he agreed with me. The hospital’s food service needs someone with your expertise. You won’t be able to make all of your proposed changes at once, but bit by bit you’ll get everything in order. And you can teach nutrition in the nursing school. You’d have a staff of twenty to manage, and you’d be serving nearly six hundred meals a day.”

Walking down the row, she ran her hand along the surface of the tables. She could hardly breathe. All this could be her kitchen? “I don’t know what to say.”

“This is your choice. I won’t tell you what to do.” He winked at her and moved close enough to take her hands. “And Charlotte, you can say yes to this position and still say no to me.”

What now, Lord? What would you
have me do?
“We’re so different, Joel. As I told you before, we’re like oil and vinegar.”

“I know, but don’t oil and vinegar work well on some things?”

She smiled. “They do.”

“Listen, Charlotte, I’ll admit that you and I can have words in a heartbeat, but I like the way you stir up my life.” He cupped
her cheek with one hand. “Your warmth, your passion, your intelligence—I love all those things, but most of all I love
you
. I’m sorry about what I did the other day, and I’m sorry I kept things from you and got jealous. I know we have things to work on, but—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Yes.”

“Yes to the kitchen or to me?”

“To both.” Her heart soared as she saw the love in his eyes. God had taken the little oil in her jar and multiplied it tenfold.

Nothing existed in the next few minutes except the two of them. Joel placed his hand on her bare shoulder, then brushed her lips with his. He let the love between them simmer before he deepened the kiss.

She shivered at his touch, marveling at how they’d found everything they’d ever wanted in each other.

At last, Charlotte placed her hand on his chest. Breath ragged, he stilled and pulled back.

She gave him a teasing grin. “You know, we’ll still argue.”

“I know.” Joel drew his hand down the length of her arm and squeezed her hand. “And I’m counting on the pleasure of making up each time we disagree.”

Author’s Note

While I’m researching, I am often struck by the influential people of the past we know so little about. This book was born after reading about one of those people—American culinary expert and cookbook author Fannie Merritt Farmer. Fannie, who suffered a paralytic stroke or possibly polio, some researchers believe, at the age of sixteen, took up cooking during her recuperative period.

Fannie never lost her limp or finished formal education, but she did enroll in the Boston Cooking School at the height of the domestic science movement. Fannie excelled and eventually became principal of the school in 1891. It was during her time there that she wrote
The Boston Cooking
-School Cook Book
, which is still in print today. Her cookbook included very specific, standardized measurements. Before this, cookbooks gave estimates of how much to add—a dash of salt, a pinch of pepper, a teacup of flour, a piece of butter the size of an egg. She was the first to treat cooking and baking as a science.

In 1902 she left the Boston Cooking School to start Miss Farmer’s School of Cookery. Besides teaching and lecturing across the United States, she began to focus more on the nutrition and care of the ill. She wrote
Food and
Cookery for the Sick and Convalescent
, and
her expertise on the subject led her to be one of the first women invited to lecture at Harvard Medical School to prospective doctors and nurses.

What about the chocolate company bearing her name? She had nothing to do with it. They were simply using her well-known name.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to . . .

My reader friends. With so many things in life vying for your attention and time, I want to thank you for choosing to read
While Love Stirs
. I hope you were blessed while you read as much as I was while I wrote Charlotte’s story.

My editors, Andrea Doering and Jessica English. Your excellent eye for detail and your kind encouragement make writing for Revell a joy.

The entire Revell publishing team. From the art department to marketing to sales, you fight for readers like warriors.

Brenda Anderson, Judy Miller, and Shannon Vannatter, for your honest critiques.

Dawn Ford and Sandra Dollen. Thank you for listening and giving me ideas. Life is never boring with you two around.

My family—David, Parker, Caroline, and Emma. You are my greatest blessings.

My Lord and God. Thank you for putting a story in my heart. I pray I can glorify you in all I do.

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