Bribing the Blacksmith by Amelia C. Adams

Author:Amelia C. Adams [Adams, Amelia C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

A lack of a washtub was not the only thing that kept Mariah from leaping right into her task. There didn’t seem to be any laundry soap, either, and an investigation of the backyard revealed no clothesline.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Boys, we’re going over to the mercantile.”

Peter cheered, and Preston looked hopeful. “Have we done enough work to earn some lemon drops?” Peter asked. “Uncle Hans says we hafta earn them.”

“I think you’ve been very good helpers,” Mariah said. “Let’s get some, and we’ll eat them after lunch, all right?”

The boys seemed to think that was an acceptable compromise, and off they went. When they stepped out the front door, Mariah made sure she had a tight hold on their hands, and they made it to the store in safety.

“Well, hello there,” Toria said as they entered. “How are you all today?”

“We’re here for lemon drops, please,” Peter said importantly.

“And laundry soap,” Mariah added.

Toria smiled. “I can help with both.” She helped Mariah locate a box of powered soap, along with a length of rope and some clothespins. “So you found a job, then?” she asked as she put the clothespins in a sack.

“We’re on a trial basis for today,” Mariah replied. “He’s not entirely convinced that he needs a housekeeper yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll change his mind after today.” Toria placed everything in a larger sack. “I’ll just put these on Mr. Jensen’s account,” she said with a wink. “And I have it on good authority that someone’s paying his account for him this month, so if there’s anything else you need . . .”

Mariah turned and glanced around. “I should probably get some coffee—I used up the last this morning. And perhaps more sugar.”

Toria added those to the ledger. While she was placing the additional items with the first, Mariah overheard a conversation from the next aisle over.

“I told you, I hate green beans,” a man’s voice said. “They are an abomination to all that is good and holy about vegetables.”

“There’s nothing good and holy about vegetables. They’re just food!” a woman retorted.

“That’s Reverend and Mrs. Theodore,” Toria whispered across the counter. “Newlyweds . . . but not under the usual circumstances.”

“I thought we agreed that we would try acting civilly to each other, at least in public,” the man said.

“Fine! Just . . . fine. How do you feel about carrots, darling?”

“Carrots are a much more pleasant vegetable, my dear.”

The two rounded the aisle and saw Toria and Mariah staring at them. “We’ll take a bag of carrots, please,” the woman said. She was a pretty dark-haired thing, but the expression on her face kept her from being truly beautiful—she looked like she wanted to beat her husband to death with those carrots rather than eating them.

“Of course,” Toria said. She slid Mariah’s box toward her. “Here you go. The lemon drops are in the small bag on top.”

“Thank you,” Mariah told her, nodding at the boys to follow her.

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