The lunch went well for Toria. The men were all well-mannered and seemed to love the food she served them. They had seconds and sometimes thirds, but she’d prepared for an army, and they enjoyed what she made.

After the third round of meals, John and Willie came up the stairs to have their lunches. Willie’s eyes widened at the small feast in front of him. It was obvious he’d been hungry for a while. “I should take this home to my family, not eat it all myself.”

Toria shook her head. “You need your energy for the work you’re doing. I’ll send home anything that we’ve got left with you at the end of the day.” She’d planned to serve more dumplings for supper so she wouldn’t have to make another meal, but it didn’t matter. If he was willing to skip his lunch to take food home to his family, then his family needed it more than she needed to not cook another meal.

“We can’t take charity, ma’am.” Willie sat down, still eyeing his food as if he wondered if it was really all right to eat it.

“It’s not charity. My husband and John won’t eat the same meal twice like that. I need someone to take it. I shouldn’t have made so much.” Toria hated lying, but she knew it was important that his family eat.

John’s eyes were dancing at her story. “It’s true. I’ll take you home and take the pot with me. I arranged it so my last delivery would be in Bachelor, so it’s no problem driving you home.”

“I’d like that a lot.” Willie looked at his food, and then at Toria. “Is there enough for you?”

Toria nodded, grabbing a bowl for herself. She’d eaten earlier, but if it made him feel better to see her eat, she could eat a little more to satisfy him. Sitting down at the table, she looked at John. “Would you be willing to pray for us?”

After the prayer, Willie began shoveling his food into his mouth, obviously very excited that there was food for him to enjoy. When he’d finished—which took mere moments—he leaned back and looked at Toria. “It was a wonderful meal, Mrs. Jackson.”

“Thank you, Willie. Would you like more?”

The boy seemed to fight an internal debate, but in the end, he shook his head. “No, ma’am, but thank you for offering.”

Toria understood. If he ate more, he’d be taking it from his mother and siblings. She’d been raised poor, but never as poor as his family obviously was. She wished there was a way she could help more, but she couldn’t let the boy know that she was giving him “charity.”

After John and the boy had left, she worked to scrub up the last round of dishes. She’d done a good job of keeping them up while the men took turns eating. Then she realized that she had nothing to cook for supper, because she’d promised the chicken and dumplings to Willie, so she went down the stairs to the store.

Mortimer smiled, happy that his wife was there to help him. When she walked over and whispered softly why she needed new food, he nodded to her. “Just show me what you take.”

She hurried over and chose something for their supper and went upstairs with it, getting it started. Back down the stairs she went, getting one of the work aprons Mortimer kept lying around and tying it around her waist. “Do you want me to take the cash register?”

“Would you be willing to go over and make the yard goods area more pleasing? I tend to lose a lot of business to the dry goods store down the street. For some reason, people think they should buy food here, but fabrics from them. Maybe you can help with that.”

She frowned. “I didn’t even realize there was a dry goods store down the street. I need to get out more! How many people live in Creede?”

“There are more than ten thousand between Creede and Bachelor.”

“That’s the same size as Beckham! Oh my. And there’s no restaurant?”

“Sure there is. The one we had burned down, and Edwin McRae, the former owner, is running one out of his kitchen. It’s just not big enough to serve all the men who need to eat there. Even after the restaurant that the Grahams are building, you could keep your Monday noon thing going if you wanted to. There’s enough business for another three or four restaurants in town, if not more.” He shrugged.

“I need to learn more about this town if I’m going to make it my forever home!” Toria raced off to the yard goods, studying the display, and then working on making it more pleasing to a woman’s eye. She loved the idea of making it perfect.

Mortimer watched her go, his mind zeroing in on the word, “if.” Did that mean she was making plans to go somewhere else? Wasn’t she happy in Creede? Now that she was in his life, he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to do without her. He hoped he was wrong, because he didn’t want to keep her if she was unhappy.

* * *

When John came back, announcing he was about to make his last delivery of the day and take Willie home, Toria hurried upstairs and got the big pot. “Your mama will need to add a little water and warm it up, but other than that it’s fine.” She resisted the urge to add loaves of bread to it, because she knew that Willie would then know it was charity. Sometimes it was hard to walk the fine line between helping someone and making them feel uncomfortable, like they were a project.

Willie thanked her and hurried to put the pot into the wagon before rushing back inside to help John load the wagon again. As Toria watched him work, she was amazed that such a wiry boy would work so hard. He obviously cared about his family a great deal to be willing to do so much for them.

After they were gone, Toria went upstairs to start supper. She was just making baked chicken and baked potatoes, so she didn’t have to sit over them and watch them. When she was finished, she descended the stairs again, spotting Mortimer on her way down. He looked sad, and she knew he was thinking of Grace. That’s who he was always thinking about when he looked sad.

She began fixing some of the displays and disappeared into the back room to make sure things were restocked. She knew her job well, but she wished she was a better wife to poor Mortimer.

When it was time to close the store, he walked to the door, and turned the sign. “It’s been a long day,” he told her.

She nodded. “Long, but good. I’m happy I had so much to do.”

He shook his head at her. “I’m afraid you’re going to work yourself to death if you keep up this pace. If you cut everything else out, you could just work in the store with me.” He would enjoy it if they could work together all day every day. It would make him very happy.

“While that’s tempting, I think it’s good for me to keep up with the baked goods and work on my knitting.” Truly, she couldn’t be around him that much, knowing he was still pining for his dead wife. What could she possibly do to make him realize that she was a good woman who was determined to love him?

She stopped for a moment, an expression of grief coming over her face. She’d fallen in love with her husband, and there was no way he would ever love her. How was she going to be able to continue to be around him?

Mortimer saw her face, and realized she must be missing home. What else could it be? “If you’d like to go home for a visit for a week or two, I wouldn’t complain.” He would hate every second of it, but he wanted her to be happy.

His words came as a slap in the face. He wanted her to go. He needed to be away from her for a while. Why was she never good enough? “Just let me know when you want me to go, and I will.” She wondered if he’d buy her a round trip ticket, or only one way. He obviously didn’t want her, so maybe she should go back to Beckham? What would she do there, though? Sebastian was still there, and she didn’t need to deal with him.

He turned his back on her, pretending to straighten something on the shelf behind him. “Maybe after Christmas? We’re very busy here during Christmas time.” Maybe if she waited that long, she would no longer feel the need to go. That was his hope, anyway.

Of course he’d choose a time for her to leave that would be best for the store. She was a helper to him…a partner of sorts. She wasn’t someone he could ever love. “I’ll go finish supper while you close up. What time do you expect John back?”

“Probably in ten or fifteen minutes. Go on and get everything ready.” He watched as she hurried up the stairs, leaning over the counter and burying his face in his hands.

“What are you doing, Mortimer Jackson? Have you lost your mind?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He didn’t even react to Grace’s presence. He’d been haunted by her since her death, and usually he was excited when she appeared before him, but not this time.

“You’re pushing that woman away. There’s never been a woman on this earth who was more suited to marrying you and working with you. And here you are, telling her to go back east.” Grace shook her head at him, as if he’d lost his mind.

“I’m not pushing her to go back east. I can see she misses her family back east, so I suggested she go for a visit.”

“Well, she thinks you want to get rid of her. Use a little tact. Court her like you courted me. I know you know how to court a woman. Use some of those skills. Buy her flowers!”

“Toria? She’d rather have something practical, I’m sure. A skein of yarn would make her happier than a bunch of flowers.”

“You’d be surprised, Mortimer. Women everywhere are the same. You have to treat her like a princess before she takes off and never comes back. You and John need her more than you ever needed me. She’s the woman who belongs with you. Wake up and start treating her like it!” With those words, Grace faded from view as she’d done a thousand times.

Usually after her visit, he was left sad and lonely. This time, he was galvanized into action. Maybe she was right! It was time he courted his wife and treated her like the incredible woman she was. No one needed to be treated like an old worn out shoe!

Before he went upstairs for supper, he walked down the street to visit Seamus McFry. He had a small greenhouse, and he grew flowers. Claimed that he needed flowers all year round to remind him of his beautiful Ireland. He’d left when he was just a boy, and now that he’d settled in Creede, he was determined to bring a bit of Ireland there.

Knocking on the man’s door, he waited for a moment. “Mortimer! What brings you here?” Seamus was a friend from church, but not someone he usually saw outside of that building.

“Flowers. I want to buy some flowers for my new wife. I think she’s unhappy here, and I want her to be happy.”

Seamus made a face. “Are you sure? She looked like she was loving it here to me.”

“She puts on a good act. Do you have any roses?” He liked roses for a lady. It was Grace’s favorite.

“Not ready for picking. Let’s see. Would you like to come with me?”

Mortimer nodded, never having been inside the greenhouse before. It was a place he’d always been curious about, but not curious enough to seek the other man out. “I’ve never been in a greenhouse.”

“It’s a magical place. Step lively, or you might crush one of the leprechauns or fairies.”

Mortimer started to tell him he was crazy, but he’d had a conversation with his dead wife a short while ago where she gave him advice about his new wife. If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black, he didn’t know what was. “What would you recommend for my wife?”

“I have some Irish wildflowers in one corner of the greenhouse, that I think will appeal to you and your wife. They’re a mixture of blue and purple, and they make me think of home.” Seamus led him into the glass building, fortified with wooden posts, and then he took him to the area he’d suggested. “I think a bouquet of these would make any woman’s heart sing, don’t you?”

Mortimer looked at them for a moment and then nodded. “I don’t know her favorite color or her taste in flowers. I knew those things about my first wife within a couple of days of meeting her. I am not being a good husband to Toria.” And she was being a wife beyond his wildest beliefs of what a wife could be!

Seamus frowned at him. “A beautiful lass like her, and you’re not doing everything you can to make her fall in love with you? Granted, she can’t sing, but that seems to be her only flaw. It’s time for you to work for her. She deserves it.”

Mortimer sighed. “She works for me. I’ve never seen a woman work quite like Toria does. She cooks, bakes, balances my books, fixes displays, and makes me socks…I get tired just thinking about everything she does.”

Seamus grinned. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve not even known her a week yet. Does love come that fast?” When he thought about it, he realized his emotions were becoming involved in his feelings for his wife.

“How long did it take you to know you loved your Grace?” Seamus had moved to town not long before Grace’s death, but he’d known her a little.

“It was different with Grace. I took one look at her, and I knew she was the woman for me. I fell for her beauty before she even learned to cook or do other things to take care of me.” It seemed to him that his love for Grace was an immature love.

“And Toria is the other way around, isn’t she? That doesn’t mean you love her any less.”

Mortimer frowned. “Possibly. How much for the flowers?” He’d picked a handful and was clutching them as if his life depended on it.

“They’re a gift. Make your Toria happy.” Seamus watched him go with a slight smile on his face. “If I had a woman like the beautiful Toria, I’d be going to her on my knees begging her to stay and be my wife.”

If Mortimer heard him, he gave no indication of it as he walked away. Going straight upstairs to their home over the store, he saw that she was working away in the kitchen. “Toria?”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes just a little red. He felt like the world’s biggest louse for making her cry. She was always so upbeat and happy. He’d obviously done something very rude to hurt her. He just wished he understood what that thing was! “Yes?”

“I’ve treated you badly, and I’m very sorry. I’m going to court you. No woman should have to skip the courting time with her husband, where he treats her as if he worships the ground she walks on.” He thrust the flowers at her. “I hope you like them.”

Toria looked at the flowers and then up at Mortimer. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She hurried to find a vase and rinse it out. There were many vases there in the small house, telling her that he’d been a great deal more attentive to his first wife’s needs than he was to hers. She couldn’t believe he’d brought her flowers. Maybe things would turn around a little.

“Do you like flowers?”

She laughed softly. “Of course I like flowers. Just because I can do math and enjoy working doesn’t mean I don’t have a love for all things pretty and feminine.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly. It was something he could bring her. And he could order her jewelry from the catalogue in the store. He’d given his Grace a beautiful engagement ring that he’d had to pay off over a few years. Toria wore no ring at all, and he had the means to just buy one outright. What was wrong with him?

“Supper will be ready as soon as John gets back.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, her brow furrowed. “I expected him a while ago.”

Mortimer frowned. “Maybe I should go see if I can find him.”

“I do think that would be a good idea. What if he went to the saloon again?” Her heart dreaded the idea that he’d gone back to his old ways, but if he had, she would continue to love him.

“I’m home!” John called up the stairs, and Toria immediately felt guilty for her negative thoughts.

“I was starting to worry,” she said.”

“It was snowing on the way back. I took it a little slower to be safe.” He looked between Toria and his dad. “Sorry to worry you. I did what I thought was best.”

Mortimer nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. “You did just right, son.”

Toria hurried to get supper out of the oven and on the table. “Supper’s ready.”

John shook his head. “It’s a good thing you made something else, since you gave away the supper we were supposed to have.”

Mortimer looked at Toria. “I’m glad you gave our supper to Willie’s family.”

“He didn’t want to eat his lunch, thinking he should take it home to his family instead. So I told him the two of you wouldn’t eat the same meal twice, and it would help me out if he took the rest of the chicken and dumplings home. I had planned to serve them for supper.”

Mortimer laughed softly. “Your big heart is going to hurt my stomach one of these days.”

She grinned. “I made you something else. We can afford to make supper twice. He can’t afford to make it once. I think it all balances out in the end.”

John smiled. “His mother was very excited to get some supper. She’s had a really hard time since her husband died in that accident. I don’t know what she’d do if Willie wasn’t doing so many odd jobs to help them.”

“I’m glad I did the right thing.” She looked at Mortimer. “Would you mind blessing our food? We’re talking so much about others eating, that we might starve to death sitting here looking at our own supper.”

Mortimer grinned as he bowed his head. Even if his Toria was a bit unhappy about the way he’d treated her since she’d arrived, she still found ways to joke around. He found he couldn’t complain about that one little bit.

After the prayer, he looked at John. “How was Willie on your first day?”

John shook his head. “He barely let me carry anything at all. The child is definitely hungry and willing to do anything to feed his family. I’m just glad he hasn’t turned to thieving. That says something about how his parents raised him.”

“Yes, it does.” Mortimer nodded. “I’m glad we’ll be able to help out for a while.