A short while later, she’d made both beds, did the breakfast dishes, and took the meat that was left from the night before, added some vegetables and some barley, and started a soup on the stove. If she cooked it at a low heat, it could cook for a few hours while she was gone.
When she was finished, she descended the stairs into the store, excited that Mortimer had work for her to do. She really did get bored when she didn’t have a task to do, which was one of the big reasons she’d never married. She needed more than just household chores to keep her mind active and interested.
John gave her a half-smile when he saw her. “Thanks for the cookies.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came to supper last night.” Toria rushed over to where Mortimer was working on a display, trying to change it to the way she’d suggested. “Where are your books?” She couldn’t believe how excited she was to get her hands on them. She wanted to make sure everything was in order and make herself useful to him.
He led her over behind the counter and pulled out a stool for her. As his arm brushed hers, she felt a tingle rush up her spine. She was thrilled that he made her feel so much more than he had that first day. “Everything is here. You can sit there and work on them. I have a blank ledger for you, in case you need it.”
She wasted no time, bending over the ledgers and getting to work. Mortimer watched her for a moment before he wandered off to finish the changing of the displays.
John approached him, lending his strength to the task at hand. “Why is she working in the store? Mom never did.”
“Mom wasn’t interested in the store. Toria has worked in a store back east for years. She has lots of ideas and experience, and she wants to help us make this place better and more profitable.”
John smiled, nodding. “I like the idea of it being more profitable.”
Mortimer grinned at his son. “I do, too! I think she can do it, too. She’s going to help us get everything set up, keep baking for us, and she has ideas about more things to order.”
John looked over at his stepmother for a moment. “I think I like her, and I didn’t want to at all.”
“I like her, too. I think she’s going to be good for both of us.”
“Who’d have thought I’d be able to say I don’t hate my stepmom?”
Mortimer clapped his son on the back. He was thrilled to see him start acting like his old self again.
Chapter Five
Toria found she enjoyed working in the store, because Mortimer and John were always around her. She loved watching their interactions with each other, giving her a picture of a closer father and son than she’d expected.
It took her a little over three hours to get the books set up the way she wanted them…and for her to find the error Mortimer had been stressing over. She called him over and showed it to him, smiling at his response.
“I can’t believe you found it so quickly! I’ve been trying to find that error for two months!”
Toria shrugged. “It’s a gift. It’s a silly gift, but it works for me.” She’d found men were intimidated by how quickly she did math, so she often downplayed how easy it really was for her.
“Well, I for one am thrilled it’s a gift you have. How much more work do you have to do to get everything like you want it.” He couldn’t believe he’d not only gotten a beautiful bride, but one who could do tasks that were difficult for him. God had truly been watching out for him when He’d sent Toria.
“Oh, I’m done. We’re balanced through the close of day last night. It’ll take me about an hour a week to keep up on everything.” She hoped he’d give her the job. The more she did, the happier she’d be. She wanted to feel like she was important to him.
He blinked at her for a moment. “I was spending three hours a week. I’m so happy to give you that chore.”
“I’m just as happy to accept it!” Toria stood and stretched her back. “I’m going to go upstairs and check on your lunch. It should be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“What about my lunch?” John called from across the store where he was redoing a display the way she wanted it.
Toria shrugged. “Your dad can bring you down a bowl, or you can come up and eat when he’s done.”
“Really? There’s enough for me?” John asked, surprised.
“I will always make enough for you. Come up anytime for your lunch. I’ll be happy to have you.” She didn’t wait for a response, knowing that he hadn’t expected her generosity and may not know how to react to it. She truly didn’t mind cooking for one more person. It didn’t take any extra time when she was already cooking anyway.
Mortimer came up twenty minutes later, his eyes wide as he saw fresh bread and a bowl of steaming soup waiting for him. “John badly wants to hate you, but he can’t help but like you. He’s having a hard time.” And Mortimer was thrilled. He’d expected a lot more discontent from his son than they’d received, considering his devotion to his mother.
Toria shrugged. “I can understand that. When my father’s first wife died, he quickly married again. My half-brother was determined to hate my mother with everything inside him. They became close because she was so kind…he couldn’t help but like her.”
“So you’re taking a page out of your mother’s book.”
“In a way. My brother was only twelve at the time, so it was a different situation. But it worked out well for them.” She sat down at the table, and he took her hand in his for their prayer. It was the first time, but she hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
He took a bite of his soup and smiled. “You have a way with cooking.”
She smiled. “It’s truly always been a hobby of mine. I lived in a boarding house in Beckham, and I would cook for all the boarders on Saturday evenings because I enjoyed it. I got a discount on my rent for it, but that wasn’t the reason. I’d have done it for free, I just never told the woman running the house.”
“I didn’t know you lived in a boarding house! Did you like it there? The ones I’ve seen are all men, so I’m surprised you were able to live in one.”
“This one was all women. If we needed more money, I think I’d enjoy running a boarding house, but I don’t think there’s any need for that here.” She had always had an entrepreneurial spirit. It was hard for her not to always be working on something. She was certain it stemmed from growing up poor.
He shook his head. “Not at all. Though our only restaurant burned down. People may like it if you planned to sell a lunch once a week or something, if you were so inclined.”
She tilted her head to one side, thinking about it. “You could sell it through the store. I could place a limit of a certain number of people buying the lunch. I would only make what was sold before the day of the lunch, so say I would fix lunch every Monday, and if men hadn’t ordered by Saturday, they would be out of luck.” She took a bite of her freshly buttered bread, thinking about it. “What would I charge for a lunch? A dime?”