Chapter Two #3
Gunder tucked that information away in the back of his mind and looked around the busy restaurant.
There was a mix of cowboys, farmers, businessmen in suits, and even a few men who looked like miners among those dining there.
A finely dressed couple with two dark-headed little girls made him smile.
He’d have to remember what the restaurant looked like and describe it in his letter home to his family.
Amalia and Anna would enjoy reading about his experience eating lunch out since it was something his family had never enjoyed.
How Gunder wished he could buy his mother and sisters beautiful gowns and take them in a fancy carriage to a nice restaurant. He wished he could provide for them so his father could quit the job that was slowly killing him.
Perhaps someday he’d be able to do that. For today, he just needed to survive the trip back to Lovely.
It didn’t take long before Miss Connor returned with their meals.
The portions seemed large, and Gunder enjoyed every bite of the flaky crust surrounding savory, tender chicken in a creamy sauce.
His plate held a serving of fresh peas, and when Miss Connor set a basket full of soft, warm rolls on the table, Gunder hastily buttered one and shoved it in his mouth.
It was the best thing he’d eaten since he’d left home.
Lars chuckled and ate a roll with slightly more decorum. When their plates were empty, and Miss Connor had refilled their water glasses again, she stood by the table glaring at Gunder. “You think you have room for dessert, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, offering her his best smile.
She blinked twice, then looked to Lars. “Lemon pie, cherry pie, or cake?”
“Cherry pie for me, please,” Lars said, then nodded toward Gunder.
“I’d also like cherry, please.”
Miss Connor bustled off with their empty plates and soon returned with two enormous slices of cherry pie that were still warm from the oven. Cream flowed over the top of each piece and Gunder felt his mouth water even though his stomach was full from the wonderful meal he’d just eaten.
“Thank you, Miss Connor,” he said, politely. He waited until she’d moved on to another table before forking a bite of the pie and closing his eyes in bliss. The cherries in the filling weren’t canned cherries, but freshly picked fruit that burst with flavor in his mouth with every bite.
Gunder wasn’t certain that he hadn’t moaned from cherry-induced bliss, because Lars chuckled and shook his head at one point. However, Gunder was so busy eating bite after bite of the incredible pie, he didn’t stop to pay him any mind.
“Enjoyed that, did you?” Miss Connor asked when she stopped by the table to pick up their empty plates.
“Those were the best cherries I’ve ever tasted, Miss Connor. Are they grown here?”
The woman nodded. “Sure are. The Wagner family has an orchard on the west end of town. In fact, they had a table in front of their place with boxes of cherries for sale yesterday, if you’re interested.”
“What were they charging?” Lars inquired as he took money out of his pocket and set it on the table to cover their bill.
Miss Connor named a reasonable price, and Lars gave Gunder a look he interpreted to mean they were walking to the west end of town to buy cherries.
“Thanks for another tasty meal, Miss Connor. Please tell Mrs. Thatcher how much we appreciate her good food,” Lars said as he stood.
Gunder rose to his feet and nodded in agreement. “It was the best food I’ve had since I left home.”
Wonder of all wonders, Miss Connor smiled, and appeared on the verge of tittering. Lars gave Gunder a nudge toward the door. “Have a nice day and a happy holiday, Miss Connor.”
“You do the same, Mr. Hoffman,” the woman said, watching as they left the restaurant.
“Are we going to get cherries?” Gunder asked, following as Lars walked to the corner, then headed west.
“My daughter would love to have fresh cherries, so I’ll get enough so she can bake a pie, or do something with them.”
As they walked, Lars pointed out businesses and then homes of people he’d met.
They arrived at the Wagner farm to find a gap-toothed boy who couldn’t have been more than eight with the reddest hair Gunder had ever seen sitting at a table filled with crates of cherries.
Much to Gunder’s delight, there were also a few crates of strawberries, and one of apricots.
“How much for a crate of cherries?” Lars asked, smiling at the boy.
The boy gave them both studying looks before he relayed the same number Miss Connor had shared.
“I’ll take a crate of cherries,” Lars said, fishing out the money and handing the coins to the child.
“How much for the strawberries?” Gunder asked. The price the boy wanted made him wonder if the strawberries had been raised in beds of gold. “And the apricots?”
The child sized him up, narrowed his gaze, then named a price Gunder was surprised to realize he could afford. “I’ll take the apricots.”
He paid the lad, pleased to have something to contribute to the community picnic tomorrow. Something he doubted anyone else would bring. Of course, it would have been better if the apricots could have been baked into a cobbler, but even fresh, they’d be a welcome treat.
“What are you going to do with the apricots?” Lars asked as they carried the crates to where they’d left the wagon at the livery.
“I thought I’d take them to the picnic tomorrow. I want to contribute something.”
Lars nodded approvingly. “If you want, I could take those apricots to my daughter and have her bake a pie or cobbler with them.”
“I wouldn’t want to put anyone to extra trouble,” Gunder said, although his mouth watered at the thought of a cobbler like the one Mr. Adamson’s wife had baked and brought to the livery two summers ago. “Do you think people will enjoy them fresh?”
“They will, Gunder, and it is kind of you to buy them to share.”
“My mother always said it was important as a guest to never arrive empty-handed.”
“Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”
Gunder nodded. “She is wise, and good, and loving.” His voice quieted. “I miss her very much. I miss them all.”
“It’s nice you had a close family, Gunder. Not everyone experiences that. At least I assume you must all be close.”
Gunder nodded, thinking of his parents, his sisters, and how much he loved each one of them. “We are. Were. Before I left, I mean. It was hard to leave them behind, but God willing, I’ll see them again someday.”
Lars nodded once as they reached the wagon, then set the cherries beneath the seat. Gunder set in the apricots, then followed as Lars showed him around the rest of town.
“I’ll introduce you to Mrs. Franklin,” Lars said, leading Gunder up the porch steps of a sprawling three-story house. “She’s a widow, and opened her home as a boardinghouse, much like Mrs. Baldwin did in Lovely.”
Lars opened the door and held it as Gunder removed his hat and stepped inside, careful to wipe his boots on the rug by the door. While Lars wiped his boots, Gunder looked around the tastefully decorated entry. The home seemed elegant, yet also comfortable and clean.
“Mrs. Franklin?” Lars called, leaning slightly to the right to peer into a sitting room.
“Coming!” a female voice carried from down the hallway.
A woman with chestnut hair piled high on her head bustled down the hall with a smile wreathing her face as she wiped her hands on the crisp apron she wore.
“Well, Mr. Hoffman! I didn’t expect to see you today since you were just here yesterday,” she said, her voice expressing her obvious pleasure at his presence in her home.
Gunder noticed the tips of Lars’ ears turned red and wondered if the freighter was enamored with the pretty widow.
Although the wrinkles around her eyes and the spots on her hands made Gunder think she was close in age to Lars, the energy that fairly pulsed from her, the sparkle in her green eyes, and her cheerful countenance made her seem years younger.
She was neither tall nor short, not plump nor too thin.
As Gunder watched Lars smile at her, he had a good idea the freighter found her to be quite to his liking.
“I’m not staying in town this evening, Mrs. Franklin, but I wanted to introduce you to our newest freighter.” Lars settled a hand on Gunder’s arm. “This is Gunder Birke. He just arrived in Lovely yesterday.”
“Oh, you dear, brave boy. May God bless you and keep you,” she said, taking his hand between hers and giving it a motherly pat.
Gunder had no idea why her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him with sympathy and concern. A sudden urge to pelt Lars with questions about the freighter who’d filled the position before him made him curious to learn what had caused the vacancy.
Gathering his wits and manners, Gunder smiled at the pleasant woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Franklin.”
“Perhaps Lars already explained how we do things here, but your room is at the top of the stairs, first door on the left. Breakfast is ready at six, and supper is served at six. Keeps things simple that way. I also provide a lunch you can take with you since it is such a long trip back to Lovely. I wash the bedding once a week. I always have plenty of water for washing up, and expect clean hands and faces at the table.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gunder nodded to her, tamping down a smile as he envisioned her inspecting the hands of her boarders and sending them back to do a better job.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your day, Mrs. Franklin,” Lars said, nervously spinning his hat around in his hands. “I just wanted to introduce Gunder while we both were in town.”
“It’s good of you to stop by, Mr. Hoffman. Is your daughter looking forward to the festivities tomorrow?”
Lars smiled. “She certainly is, ma’am.”
“Do you two have time for a glass of lemonade and some cookies? I just pulled a batch from the oven.”
The thought of warm cookies and cool lemonade made Gunder’s mouth water even though he was still full from lunch.