Chapter Three #3
“Ready, Girlie?” her father asked, startling her as he stepped outside in a pair of dark-brown trousers and a pressed tan cotton shirt. He tugged the front door closed behind him.
“Yes, Papa.” She smiled at her father and took the arm he held out to her after he’d settled his hat on his head. “Do you think Pastor Thomas will have to move the service outside?”
“Likely so,” Lars said, looking ahead as they strolled into town. “Can’t say that I mind. Holding it in the shade down by the river would be a sight more pleasant than crammed into the church while we all bake like potatoes in the oven.”
Risa grinned. “Potatoes, Papa? I’m insulted to know you think I’m a rather plain and lumpy blob.”
Lars chuckled. “No one would ever confuse you with a potato, Risa. Not even a blind man would make such a tragic mistake. You are far too full of sunshine and life.”
Pleased with her father’s words, Risa squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Papa. I’m glad you think a little sunshine resides in me.”
“A whole bushelful of it, Girlie.” Lars kissed her cheek, then hurried ahead as men worked together to carry pews out of the church and over to the shaded expanse of grass near the river where the picnic would be held.
Makeshift tables, assembled from boards and sawhorses, were already set up, and the scent of the meat Jed and Mr. Goodwin had roasted all night in a pit filled the air with a delicious aroma.
Risa watched as her father and the blond man she’d noticed earlier carried out a bench together. The unusually handsome man with eyes that rivaled the sky for a gorgeous shade of blue had full lips, a round chin, and an adorable nose that turned up ever so slightly on the end.
Could men have adorable noses? Especially when the man was a fine, healthy, masculine specimen who filled out his shirt and trousers so well?
Risa shook her head, wondering if the heat was getting to her. Otherwise, she had no explanation or reason for her ridiculous thoughts. She turned and gave Mrs. Baldwin a hug as the woman arrived with her handful of boarders.
Pastor Thomas rang a bell, and everyone found a seat. Risa sat between Mrs. Baldwin and Pearl Lewis. Pearl and her husband, Jasper, owned the Lovely General Store and ran the post office.
There weren’t many females or children in town.
The mine manager sat on the pew across from Risa with his wife and three pretty daughters.
The girls wore matching frilly white dresses with red sashes and blue ribbons in their walnut-brown hair.
Jasper and Pearl’s little boy, Trevor, a freckle-faced imp given to mischief, leaned around his father to study the girls.
Risa glanced away to keep from laughing at the expression on Trevor’s face. She could almost picture him plotting ways to get those pristine dresses all dirty before the afternoon was through.
A chuckle behind her made Risa glance over her shoulder at her father and the big blond man who sat beside him.
Lars winked at her, but before she could say anything to him, Pastor Thomas cleared his throat, and the service began.
Risa listened with interest to the sermon about freedom and love, and followed along as the pastor read verses from the eighth chapter of John. It was probably a good thing she sat in the front row so she wouldn’t be distracted by the attractive man seated directly behind her.
As it was, a scent, like spicy shaving soap, wafted on the breeze. Risa breathed in deeply, savoring the odor until she realized what she was doing and rubbed her finger beneath her nose to dispel the pleasant fragrance.
After the congregation sang a rousing rendition of “Shall We Gather at the River,” which seemed oddly appropriate considering the service had been held near the riverbank, Pastor Thomas offered a closing prayer.
“Everyone is invited to join us for our community picnic. It will take a few moments to set out the food, then we’ll ask a blessing on the meal,” Pastor Thomas announced in a commanding voice that carried to all those in attendance.
Risa rose and felt her father’s arm on her shoulder. “I’ll retrieve our food if you need to help Mrs. Baldwin,” he said.
“Thank you, Papa. I left everything on the table. There’s a basket with plates and napkins. You’ll need to fill jars with water for drinking. There’s the sauerkraut, potato salad, and lebkuchen, as well as the custard pie. Leave the cherry pie for us to enjoy after supper.”
“I’ll be back shortly,” her father said, then headed off toward the street with the handsome man at his side.
Twenty minutes later, the tables nearly groaned from the food that had been piled on the surfaces.
One table held nothing but huge platters of the roasted meat.
Another was covered in desserts. Mrs. Baldwin had baked two cakes and fried doughnuts.
Pearl had brought three dried apple pies.
Mrs. Goodwin had contributed a large pan of rhubarb cobbler.
Risa wished they had ice to make ice cream, but perhaps they would next year.
She noticed the blond man had left a box full of fresh apricots on the table, and she could hardly wait to taste one.
It had been ages since she’d had an apricot.
Two other tables held bread and rolls, salads, pans of potatoes cooked with cheese, and an assortment of vegetables.
Someone whistled shrilly, and Risa looked up to see the pastor standing on one of the church pews.
“Let’s give thanks for this bounty of food, then we can eat!” Pastor Thomas declared before bowing his head and offering a brief, heartfelt prayer.
Risa thought a few of the miners might resort to fisticuffs to be the first in line, but the pastor took charge and insisted the ladies and children go first. Mrs. Baldwin latched onto Risa’s hand, and they went through the line together.
Risa took a seat on the grass near the pew where Mrs. Baldwin decided to sit, and the two of them enjoyed the fine meal.
“Mrs. Goodwin’s beans are so tasty,” Mrs. Baldwin declared.
“They are very good,” Risa said, then glanced up when she felt a presence nearby. She smiled as she looked up, expecting her father, but found herself looking into the face of the blond man, who was even better looking up close than he was at a distance.
With her tongue suddenly tied in knots, Risa couldn’t remember her own name, let alone anything pertinent to the moment.
“Lars sent me over to sit with you ladies. Will that be acceptable?” the man asked in a rich, deep voice that made a chill glide over Risa’s spine despite the heat beating down on them.
“Of course, dear boy. Now, tell me your name. Are you the new freighter?” Mrs. Baldwin asked, taking charge of the conversation since Risa felt as witless as one of the river rocks.
“I am the new freighter, ma’am. Gunder Birke is my name. It’s a pleasure to meet you …”
“I’m Mrs. Baldwin, and this is Risa Hoffman.”
“Risa,” Gunder repeated, looking at her with humor dancing in his incredible blue eyes.