Emmie, this was not a good day to invite the Widow Beckett and her sister to dinner. I wanted to get the sheets washed. And you promised Cyrus peach pie. Why didn’t you invite him to dinner, too?” Granny measured the flour and plopped it into the bowl. “Hand me the vinegar.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emmie racked her brain. She would have to help Granny today if the plan was going to work. “We can do it together. I’ll strip the sheets and wash them. You work on the pie, because you make the best in the county. Anyone can wash up sheets.”
“Stop trying to butter me up. Hurry upstairs then and get to work. Walter and Milton went for a walk. You know how they like to inspect the town in the morning. The old fools. Don’t know what they expect to find out of place.”
“At least it gives us a chance to tidy.” Emmie bounded up the steps. In no time, she had the sheets off of Milton and Walter’s beds. She wanted to be done before they returned, otherwise she’d have to listen to multiple stories of their youth. She paused at the entrance to Landon’s room. It smelled different. Much nicer than the older men’s rooms. Intoxicating, with the scent he wore. She took a deep breath. What would it feel like to be in his arms?
If she was affected this deeply by Landon’s cologne she would get some for the bachelors. It wouldn’t hurt their chances of attracting Widow Beckett and her sister’s attention. But what did he use? She couldn’t ask him. She moved to the dresser to search for the bottle. Once she knew the name she could purchase it.
His carpetbag sat unpacked on the dresser, his shaving items next to it. She reached for a bottle and brushed the side of the luggage. It crashed to the floor. Horror flooded through her. Once again Monkey Arms flew forefront in her mind.
She knelt to repack the items that spilled from the valise. She grabbed a picture frame. Maybe it was a photo of Landon’s family. She flipped it over. Instead, it was the woman at the store. She pushed it to the bottom of the bag along with a few other things, set the bag on the dresser, and then yanked off the bed sheets hard enough to tear them.
“Miss Emmie, what’s got you so excitable this evening?” Milton drew his eyebrows together into one long brow.
“I enjoy having guests for dinner, don’t you?” Emmie placed the fork and knife on the table. She stood back. “It looks nice, doesn’t it?”
Walter nudged Milton. “Who did you invite?”
“The Widow Beckett and her sister. I ran into the Widow Beckett yesterday, and she seemed so sad. I thought an evening dinner with all of us would cheer her.” She turned away so they wouldn’t see her face. She might give her plan away.
“Milton, it’s going to be a long night. Miss Emmie, we like it when it’s just us around the table. There’s no need to put on our best behavior.” Walter sighed.
“It’s good for both of you to keep those skills your mothers taught you.” The front door opened. Good, Landon had returned. He could help her with these two. They could learn quite a bit from him.
“Emmie, I hope you don’t mind, but I brought along a friend.”
The woman in the photograph stood in the doorway. Emmie forced a smile. “Of course not. Granny always says the boarders should treat this home like their own.”
“Thank you. This is Mrs. Julia Crump. Julia, this is Miss Emmie Mueller.”
“Pleased to meet you, Emmie.”
The use of her first name took Emmie aback. Did the woman think she was a servant? “Please, take her to the dining room, Mr. Knipp. We’ll be serving as soon as the others arrive.”
Landon had noticed the way Emmie had turned frosty when Julia wrapped her arm through his as if she belonged to him. He wanted to refuse to bring Julia to the boardinghouse, but she’d been waiting on the boardwalk when he locked the shop door.
There was no time to explain before Emmie ushered them into the dining room.
“Who’s this?” Walter scrunched his face. “It’s not the sisters we were expecting. Milton fetch a chair from the kitchen.”
Milton nodded and in his ghostlike way disappeared through the door. Come to think of it, that man didn’t speak much ever. Landon introduced Julia to Walter. “What sisters are coming?”
“Miss Emmie invited some from the church. I imagine—”
Emmie stepped into the room. “What do you imagine, Walter?”
“Thinking about dinner. When are we going to eat?”
“Don’t be such a curmudgeon. We have guests tonight.” There was a soft knock on the door. “And there are the rest of dinner guests. I’ll let them in and, Walter, behave. Where is Milton?”
“He went for another chair. If he was smart, he kept on going out the door.”
“Walter!”
“I apologize, Miss Emmie. I’ll let the women in and get everyone seated while you help your grandmother.”
“Thank you.” Emmie hurried toward the kitchen. Granny would not be happy about having another guest at the table tonight.
“Another person?” Granny grabbed Milton’s arm before he took the chair from the kitchen. “Get that in there and come back for another place setting. Tonight, you’re family, and family helps out.”
“Yes, yes, ma’am.” Milton’s face reddened as he rushed from the room.
Granny rested her hands on her cheeks. “I’m getting too old for this kind of entertaining.”
“Nonsense.” Walter entered the kitchen with Milton shadowing him. “Let’s start carrying out the food.”
“Bless you, men. I never thought I’d let that happen in my house, but today I’m grateful for the help.”
Emmie shrunk into the corner. Why hadn’t she considered how much work this would be for Granny? She was old and tired. All the more reason to move to Kansas with the family once she got Milton and Walter married, if she could get Granny to go.
Following her grandmother to the dining room with the bowl of peas, she almost dropped it when she saw the seating arrangement. Milton or Walter, probably the latter, had put all the women on one side of the table and the men on the other. And somehow, he’d managed to put Julia in front of Milton, leaving empty seats in front of himself and Landon. Before she could move, her grandmother slid into the chair across from Walter.
Somewhat befuddled, Emmie sat, trying to corral her thoughts as to how this happened before Walter quit blessing the food.