Stealing Jake

CHAPTER Ten



“Of course I didn’t mean it.”

Livy breathed a sigh. She’d worried over nothing.

Mrs. Brooks bustled about the kitchen, her movements quick and efficient. Livy finished cutting the potatoes, scooped them up, and dumped them in the soup pot. Next she gathered the fixings for two pans of corn bread. The aroma of vegetable soup filled the kitchen, making her mouth water.

“Unless he doesn’t get the children admitted back in school.”

Livy gasped. The older woman’s eyes twinkled, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, the threat worked. Let’s hope the board can get something done. That woman doesn’t have the right to turn our children out of school. Her nephew should be punished if anyone should.”

“You and I know that, but since we’re new in town, I imagine folks won’t believe us over Mrs. Johansen.” She reached for the empty coal bucket. “Be right back.”

Mrs. Brooks eyed the pail. “The coal bin was almost empty last night. We’ll have to see Mr. McIver about buying some on credit.”

Livy’s gaze met the older woman’s. “Unless our guardian angel fills it up again.”

“I wish I knew who’s been providing us with coal. I’ve been so grateful, but I don’t like not being able to thank someone for their kindness.”

“Maybe they have a good reason for not wanting us to know.”

“Maybe so.”

Livy trudged outside to the small porch and grabbed the shovel. When she opened the lid, a full load of coal lay nestled inside. Thank You, Lord, and bless the generous person who sees to our needs.

Shivering in the bitter cold, Livy hurried to fill the container. Before she could head back inside, a sound came from around the corner of the house.

Then whispers. And giggles.

Livy frowned. Seth and Georgie were up to something. Again. She set the bucket down and hurried to the edge of the porch. Leaning over the railing, she caught a glimpse of the two boys huddled against the side of the house. “Seth, what are you doing?”

Seth’s wide-eyed stare met hers. Georgie’s eyes grew round. Seth cradled something inside his coat. Livy crossed her arms. “Seth? What have you got there?”

“Please, Miss Livy, can we keep her? Please? She’s cold and hungry.”

“Please,” Georgie echoed.

“Keep who?”

Seth tugged the flap of his coat back, and out popped the bewhiskered face of a scrawny cat.

“Seth—”

“She won’t eat much, Miss Livy. I’ll share my biscuit with her. Pleeeaaasse.”

“Pleeeaaasse.”

Livy sighed. “I don’t know, boys. You’ll have to ask Mrs. Brooks. But come on, let’s go in. It’s too cold to stand out here talking about it.”

She moved aside, and the boys filed past her. She picked up the bucket and hustled them inside, smiling as they immediately begged Mrs. Brooks to let them keep the cat. Livy didn’t doubt the outcome as soon as she saw the woman’s face.

“Boys, boys. Hush now. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

“Can we keep her? Miss Livy said we could.”

“Seth, I never said any such thing. I said you’d have to ask Mrs. Brooks.”

The cat jumped from Seth’s arms, made a beeline to the stack of old newspapers piled in the corner beside the stove, completed three turns, and bedded down as if she’d found a home at last. The scrawny cat looked ready to drop a litter of kittens any minute. Apparently Mrs. Brooks noticed the cat’s predicament too.

“Well, I guess we can let her stay at least until the weather clears up. It’s too cold for man or beast out there.”

The boys whooped and raced out of the kitchen.

“Poor thing. Looks like she’s in a bad way.” Mrs. Brooks looked a mite sheepish. “I just couldn’t say no.”

Livy hugged her. “Of course you couldn’t. And she won’t eat much. We should have plenty of scraps to keep her fed. And we could use a good mouser anyway.”

“You’re right.”

Livy reached for the bucket. “Oh, I forgot to tell you—the coal bin is full again.”

“Thank You, Jesus.” Mrs. Brooks raised her hands heavenward. “God is so good to us, isn’t He?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The two put the finishing touches on supper, and Livy smiled when Mrs. Brooks replaced the old newspapers with a pile of rags she’d saved to make a string quilt. The woman’s heart was softer than butter left too close to the stove.

Half an hour later, Livy called the children. Over the meal, they named the cat. Or at least they tried to. Seth and Georgie insisted on calling her Tiger. The girls settled on Ginger, except for Grace, who could only be induced to say kitty.

“Well, we don’t have to name the cat today. Once we get to know her a little better, one of the names will stick, and that’s what she’ll be.” Mrs. Brooks leveled a stern look at all the children. “I don’t want her upstairs in your bedrooms, do you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

A knock silenced everyone. Livy hurried to answer the door. Jake stood on the porch, her black scarf covering most of his face. His green eyes sparkled beneath the brim of his hat. “Evening, Livy. Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Georgie hopped up and ran over to him. “Hey, Mr. Jake.”

Jake took off his gloves and unwound the scarf, revealing a day’s growth of stubble on his cheeks. He ruffled Georgie’s hair. “How you doing, pardner?”

“Look, we’ve got a cat.” Georgie took him by the hand and led him over to the stove. The cat dozed on her bed of multicolored rags, seemingly unaware of the attention.

Jake hunkered down and dutifully admired the cat. Livy’s heart squeezed as he squinted at Georgie and asked with all seriousness, “What’s her name?”

“I want to name her Tiger, but the girls all like Ginger.”

Livy laughed at the disgusted expression on the little boy’s face as she motioned to the stove. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Thanks.” His gaze slid to hers, and a lopsided smile tilted up a corner of his mouth. He leaned closer, and Livy’s stomach somersaulted. “I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere a little more private?”

She nodded, then turned to fix his coffee.

“Jake, I think someone likes you,” Mrs. Brooks said, her voice filled with laughter.

Livy sloshed coffee over the rim of the cup, and she made a pretense of wiping it up. What was Mrs. Brooks thinking, saying such a thing?

Jake laughed. “I think you’re right.”

Livy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Grace stood at his feet, gazing straight up at him. Jake held out his arms, and the toddler let him lift her high, her eyes never leaving his face.

Jake quirked an eyebrow at Livy. “That talk?”

She rubbed her hands down her apron, relieved that Mrs. Brooks hadn’t taken leave of her senses. “Mrs. Brooks, I’ll be in the parlor if you need me.”

“Take your time, dear.” The woman winked at her. Actually winked!

A heated flush swooshed into Livy’s face, and she pivoted, leading Jake out of the kitchen.

Mrs. Brooks acted as if Jake wanted to court, when there could be any number of reasons he needed to speak with her. Although she couldn’t imagine what they might be. She led the way, balancing Jake’s coffee cup. Jake carried Grace, her head resting snugly on his shoulder.

Once seated, Jake juggled his coffee cup and the child. Livy reached for her. “Come here, Grace, and let Mr. Jake enjoy his coffee.”

Grace shook her head, her dark curls bobbing with the movement.

He smiled. “She’s all right.”

“What did you need to talk about?” Livy fidgeted.

“Remember those carvings I promised you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve finished two or three horses—”

“Horsie!” Grace said, clapping her hands.

Jake raised an eyebrow and lifted the coffee cup high to keep the child from knocking it out of his hands. “Uh, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that in front of her.”

Livy shook her head. “She won’t know exactly what we’re talking about, so she can’t really spill the beans.”

“Good. I’ll bring them by later this week. Maybe I can make a couple more in the meantime.”

“Thank you. Don’t try to make them a whole stable. They’ll be happy with a couple of pieces, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy doing it. But there’s something else.”

Grace squirmed, and he let the child down. She toddled toward the door leading to the hallway. Livy followed her and called out, “Mary, watch Grace; she’s headed to the kitchen.”

“I’ve got her,” the older girl called back.

Turning, Livy sat on the settee and clasped her hands in her lap. “You were saying . . . ?”

Jake leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I reckon you know about Mrs. Brooks’s visit to the jail this morning?”

“Yes.” Only the grim look on Jake’s face kept Livy from breaking out into a grin. Jake and Sheriff Carter must have taken Mrs. Brooks’s threat much more seriously than she’d imagined.

He squinted at her. “Do you think she meant it? I mean, a jailhouse is no place for a passel of youngsters, you know.”

Livy bit the inside of her lip, trying to keep a straight face. Mrs. Brooks would never intentionally abandon her charges, but Jake and Sheriff Carter didn’t have to know that. “I really don’t think it will come to that, do you?”

“Other than Sheriff Carter, do you know who the other school board members are?”

“No.”

“Sam McIver, a man named Jesse Tatum, and Mac MacKinnion. Mac is Lavinia and Martha’s father.”

“Oh.” Livy’s heart sank. “I see. Mr. MacKinnion will have to side with his daughters, won’t he?”

“Probably.” Jake nodded, his gaze steady.

Livy smoothed her skirt. “I can’t understand why Miss MacKinnion insisted on suspending the children. They really didn’t do anything wrong. Certainly nothing worse than Billy.”

Jake took a sip of coffee, a flush darkening his cheeks.

Livy crossed her arms. “You’re not telling me something.”

“Like what?” He eyed her over his coffee cup, a guilty look on his face.

“Something. I don’t know what. But I can tell.”

He stood and turned his back to her, rubbing his neck with his hand. Looking over his shoulder, he scowled. “You really want to know?”

“Of course I do.” Livy stood, placing her hands on her hips. “We’re talking about these children being denied schooling because . . . because of some woman’s prejudice against . . .” She flailed her arms. “. . . against orphans.”

“Well, that’s part of it, but it’s not all.”

“What else could she have against the children?” Livy asked, casting about for anything that could make the teacher despise not only Seth and Georgie but the girls too. Enough to suspend them indefinitely.

“You.”

“Me?” Livy gasped. “Why me?”

Jake looked downright miserable. “She’s . . . uh . . . jealous. There aren’t many eligible men in Chestnut, and she’s hoping to get her hooks into any one of them. And to tell you the truth, you’re competition for her.”

“Competition?” Livy sputtered.

Jake downed his coffee and jumped to his feet. “Look, Livy, I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it, okay? I’ll let myself out.”

And with that, he bolted for the door.

Livy stared after him, amazed anyone could be jealous of her. Livy never intended to marry, so Lavinia could set her mind at ease. She bit her lip, trying to think of bachelors she’d met at church or at the mercantile whom Lavinia might have her heart set on.

There was Victor Gibbons, but he wasn’t exactly young. He was wealthy, though. Or so she’d heard. Maybe Lavinia had her heart set on him. She could have him as far as Livy was concerned. There was something about him that Livy didn’t quite trust. And then there was Jake.

Livy’s heart somersaulted.

“Oh.”

Jake.