Christmas Bells by Jewell Tweedt

Author:Jewell Tweedt [Tweedt, Jewell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781943104338
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2015-11-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Connie glanced up as the mantel clock struck ten a.m. She twisted a corner of her apron in frustration. “I told her to be here first thing, Doris. The morning’s near over.”

“Now dear, she probably had something come up. All those youngsters needing her attention.” The cook scrubbed away at the huge cauldron used for that morning’s oatmeal. “She’ll be along. I know her family. She’s a good woman. Tries real hard with all them kids. Shame too, her husband dying at such a young age.” She held up the pot. “There. Clean as a whistle and ready for tomorrow. Pour yourself a cup of tea and relax. She’ll be along.” Doris motioned to the cozy covered teapot on the counter.

Connie poured a cup and eased into a seat at the worktable. “I’m just tired and a little cranky. I got up at three a.m. to get the baking done. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I love baking, but maybe it’s time that someone else does it. And Andy was fretting last night. I could hear him thrashing.” She sipped her tea and looked down at her cup. The brew was darker than usual. “This is really delicious. What kind of tea is this?”

Doris shrugged and reached for a bowl of eggs. “I don’t know. Whatever you made.”

“I didn’t make this. I thought you did.”

“Not me.” Their gazes darted up to the shelf above the large range. A canister of Chinese oolong perched next to the box of matches. “Where’d that come from?” they said simultaneously. Connie turned and stared at Doris.

Doris’s eyes grew round. “If I didn’t make it, and you didn’t make it, then...”

At that moment, the back door opened, and Margaret burst in, shaking snow off her coat. “Sorry I’m late. I had to give instructions to the lady you sent and then stop by the doctor to see Ben. He’s much better today. I can bring him home tonight.”

Connie, still thinking about the tea, missed the first part of Margaret’s explanation. “Your son is ill?” She gripped the edge of the table. He had seemed pale when she’d stopped by Saturday. Her Andy was pale today too. Did they catch something?

“Yes, Dr. Connor thinks he has influenza. But he says Ben will be right as rain in a few days. That’s his words, ‘right as rain.’ He sure is a good man, that doctor is, handsome too.”

Envy stabbed Connie’s chest. Margaret thought James handsome as well? She pushed that unexpected feeling away. She had no claim on him. If Mrs. Dawson was interested, good for her. She motioned to the teapot. “Care for some tea? It’s fresh and hot.”

Margaret slid into a chair. “Yes, please. Let me start off by apologizing. I know it was wrong of me to close your café Saturday. It won’t happen again. You see, I was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated by trying to do what J.J. wants, what you want, and what my children need.

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