Eliza's Mistake

By Mildred Colvin

Eliza Jackson moves to Springfield, Missouri, after her mother’s death, with her father and younger brother in 1836. While still grieving for her mother, she determines to make a home for her small family. Then she makes the mistake of introducing her new friend to her father and her world is turned upside down as they fall in love. Then there’s James Hurley, her father’s employee. He seems to delight in tormenting her, yet she finds her attraction to him more than she wants.

James Hurley has fallen in love with Eliza and thinks their relationship is advancing nicely until someone tells her he’s been paid to court her. Then she turns to Trennen Von Hall, a young man of questionable intentions. But there’s nothing James can do if Eliza won’t listen to him.

When James believes all is lost and Eliza is ready to give up, she makes her biggest mistake yet. That one night changes her life and the life of her best friend as well as others. Yet out of the darkness comes good. Out of confusion comes a second chance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mildred Colvin
• Release date: Feb 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466160712

Mildred Colvin

Mildred Colvin is a wife, mother of three, and grandmother to three beautiful girls. She started writing when her children were young as they asked for stories. Not from a book. No! They were only satisfied when she made up stories. As the stories grew, she wrote some down and sent them off to magazines. Eight were published before her imagination turned toward love stories, which is what she enjoys reading.She has been writing Christian or clean and wholesome romance since 2001. Over the years several readers from pre-teens to older kids in their eighties and nineties have written expressing their interest in her books. She always loves to hear about one of her stories touching someone's heart. Her purpose in writing is to encourage, entertain, and bless someone else.She lives in the United States and sets her characters in the middle states from Texas to Nebraska and Iowa and reaching across Illinois to Colorado. She also has an Oregon Trail series, but the Great Plains states are her favorite setting.She is active in a very special critique group and has written and published over 60 books in both historical and contemporary themes, and plans to continue writing as long as God allows. He has been good in giving her many ideas for stories. Maybe more than she will be able to finish, but she enjoys each one.Please take a moment to visit her website at www.mildredcolvin.weebly.com, and sign up for her Romantic Reflections Newsletter to learn when new books are released. Also learn of promotions and free books through her newsletter.And take a look at her books. You might find something you don't want to put down.

Book preview

Brides of Cedar Creek

Book One

Eliza’s Mistake

Historical Christian Romance

Mildred Colvin

Eliza’s Mistake

by

Mildred Colvin

Historical Christian Romance

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012

All rights reserved

Cover design by Vanessa Riley

Photo© Photowitch | Dreamstime.com

Eliza’s Mistake is a rewritten version of the original book formerly published as Eliza by Barbour Publishing.

Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from its author except in the case of brief quotations used in printed reviews.

Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Chapter 1

Early fall—1836

Eliza Jackson shifted in the confining school desk and wiggled her toes. Needle-like pains shot up and down her leg, proof she’d been sitting far too long.

Are you new to Springfield, Mr. Jackson? Miss Fraser, the schoolmarm, fluttered pale eyelashes at Father.

I’ve been here since early August, but the children didn’t come until last night. We thought we should get Lenny in school as soon as possible.

Eliza stifled a yawn and stood, wincing as circulation returned to her leg. At nineteen, she was too old to fit into a child’s desk. Each step shot prickles of pain as feeling returned, so she limped across the room to where Lenny leaned, his arms folded, glaring out the window. He hadn’t been happy about this move, but Lenny wasn’t happy about much these days. Not since Mother passed away almost a year ago.

He turned and looked up at her. The fear and uncertainty in his light, brown eyes tore at her heart. If she could make life easier for him, she would. But the only thing she knew to take the hurt away was bringing Mother back, and she couldn’t do that.

Eliza put her arm across her little brother’s shoulders. He’d never been in a regular school before. Three years ago, when they moved from St. Louis to the wilderness of southwestern Missouri, Mother taught him. It wouldn’t be easy starting school in a new place where everyone was a stranger.

It’s all right, Lenny. Everything will be—

I see. Then you’re a widower, Mr. Jackson? The schoolteacher’s question seemed out of place.

My wife died about a year ago. Father sounded tired.

Eliza turned to give the woman sitting behind the desk a closer look. Miss Penelope Fraser appeared to be in her late twenties, maybe thirty. An old maid. Her light, blue eyes matched the blond hair tied back in a bun behind her long, narrow neck. Everything about the woman seemed narrow, angular. Surely not a woman Father would find attractive.

No wonder enrolling Lenny in school was taking so long. Like a hungry cat watching a cornered mouse, Miss Fraser had been sizing up the eligible widower from the moment he walked in the door of her schoolhouse. Eliza’s stomach churned. No woman would take Father away if she could help it. She and Lenny had lost too much in the past year.

Eliza pasted a smile on her lips and crossed the room to her father’s side. Aren’t we about finished here? It must be time for the other children to come, and didn’t you promise to show me your shop this morning, Father?

Father smiled at Eliza. I did at that. How about it, Miss Fraser, do you have everything you need?

Eliza released her breath as children’s voices sounded outside.

Miss Fraser’s head cocked to one side. She sighed. Yes, I suppose so. If there’s anything else, I’ll let you know. You say Leonard is eleven years old?

Lenny, please. Father stood. Yes, he’s eleven.

Fine, Lenny. Miss Fraser pushed her chair back and rose. From what you’ve told me, he’ll start in the third reader. That may change, but I’ll notify you if it does.

The schoolmarm followed them to the door. I’m sure we’ll get along.

I’m sure you will. Father motioned for Lenny. We’re going now, son. You learn all you can and make your mother and me proud.

Lenny’s scowl made him look even more frightened. Mother don’t count no more.

Eliza shook her head. That isn’t so, Lenny. She’ll always count even if we can’t see her. Isn’t that true, Father?

Yes, Father patted her shoulder as if she were Lenny’s age. Mother will always count.

Father’s touch was comforting and annoying at the same time. She was no longer a child. She stepped out the front door while Father told Lenny goodbye. A swarm of laughing, yelling children covered the yard in front of the schoolhouse.

Father caught up with her at the road just as a bell clanged out, and Miss Fraser’s shrill voice called to the children. Line up, everyone. Time to come inside.

Do you think Lenny will be all right? Eliza looked over her shoulder at the small log building standing alone at the edge of town. Her own school days seemed so long ago, but she remembered strict teachers who quickly frightened the children into submission. Miss Fraser hadn’t seemed cruel, but she also hadn’t acted the least interested in Lenny. Her attention had been far too taken up with his father.

He’ll be fine. I wouldn’t worry about Lenny. Father slowed his steps to match hers. He may be a few months behind the other children, but he’ll soon catch up. Mother taught him well.

I know. Eliza hadn’t been thinking about his lessons. Lenny seemed vulnerable somehow. What if the school had a bully? Could Lenny stand up to a larger kid?

The early October sun warmed Eliza’s back as they turned on South Street toward the business square of Springfield, Missouri. Worrying was wrong, and she needed to stop. She sighed. I suppose you’re right. Miss Fraser will probably ignore him before she hurts him, and maybe there aren’t any bullies to bother him.

Father laughed. I thought you were more optimistic than that. Where’s your faith?

Eliza shrugged. Maybe she should keep her opinion of Miss Fraser to herself. I guess I may be getting sidetracked a little.

Yes, just a little. After all, without our faith, where would we be? Father veered toward the right side of the road.

In the dark, I imagine. Eliza followed him.

Exactly.

A freight wagon, pulled by a team of horses, rumbled past as Eliza stepped up on the low boardwalk leading past the two-story shop on the corner. An older, balding man swiped a broom back and forth in front of the general store next to the shop.

He paused as they approach. Mornin’, Mr. Jackson.

Good morning, Mr. Leach. Father nodded.

Mr. Leach adjusted his long white apron over his ample middle. Who’s this young lady?

This is my daughter, Eliza. Father stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. Eliza, Mr. Leach runs the best-stocked store in town. You’ll become well acquainted with him and his wife before long.

Ah, so you’ll be doin’ the shopping for the family, will you? Mr. Leach’s friendly smile covered his face.

Eliza liked him. Yes, I’ve been made the housekeeper for the Jacksons.

When Mr. Leach laughed, his tummy shook. And none too happy about it, huh? Well, don’t you worry. I’ve got everything you’ll need except candles. He turned merry eyes toward Father. When your father moved into town with his candle-making business, I gave up trying to compete with him. I can’t pay to have candles shipped in here then sell them for less than this chandler can when he makes them in his back room.

I didn’t mean to run anyone out of business. Father frowned.

Mr. Leach clapped him on the shoulder. Don’t get soft. Business is supposed to be competitive. Springfield needs new businesses if it’s gonna keep growing. This part of the country’s building up and Springfield’s at the hub. Three hundred people call this little town home. Won’t be long until that number doubles.

Eliza allowed her mind to drift back to Lenny while the men talked. If only she could see he was all right. He deserved happiness. Losing Mother had been hard on her, too, but he was at such a vulnerable age.

Are you ready, Eliza?

Oh, yes. Eliza blinked and waved to the storekeeper. Since there’s very little food in our house, I’ll be shopping in the next day or so. I look forward to meeting your wife.

We’ll be here. Mr. Leach waved before resuming his sweeping.

Father nodded to a man coming from the bank across the corner of the square.

Are all the people here as nice as Mr. Leach, Father?

He smiled and lifted his hat toward two women hurrying past on their way to the general store. I wish I could say they were. Springfield is about like any other place. A little of each kind all mixed together. He touched her arm and pointed. There’s my shop at the end of the block.

A sign over the door of the small frame building sandwiched between a millinery shop and a larger empty building on the corner read: Chandler Shop. Orval Jackson, Proprietor.

Did you buy the building? Eliza saw nothing impressive about the small, plain-looking building. It was neither as nice nor as large as the shop Father and his brother had owned in St. Louis.

No. He opened the door. I’m renting for now.

Eliza stepped inside where the familiar odor of tallow assailed her nostrils.

Father’s eyes twinkled. There’s nothing like the smell of a candle shop, is there?

Eliza wrinkled her nose. I can think of things a little less overwhelming, but you’re right. It is distinctive.

Father laughed. Wait until nearer Christmas. You girls always liked the bayberry candles.

His comment brought her older sisters to mind. That’s true, but I think Cora liked them best. I wish we could send her a bayberry candle for Christmas.

That would be nice. For Vickie and Esther too. But last I knew no delivery service had reached our old backwoods home.

No, I guess we can’t have everything. Eliza ran her hand over the shiny, dark oak counter sitting along one wall. Tall, slender candles lay on one end of it, sorted by size. Other candles hung by a wick from hooks on the wall and ceiling. Shelves along another wall held sconces, candleholders, lanterns, and snuffers. In one corner, a pile of cotton yarn waited to be made into wicks. Sitting around the room were several candle stands made of walnut, cherry, oak, and the least expensive pine. On top of each was a candle in a tall, brass candleholder.

Eliza felt as if she’d been transported back to St. Louis and their candle shop there. Only this store was smaller, cozier. Her gaze followed Father as he moved around the room lighting the candles on the stands until a soft, warm glow filled the dark shop. Yes, definitely more inviting and home-like.

Eliza touched several on the counter. Why aren’t these hanging up?

Those are special and more expensive than the others. Father moved beside her. They’re made with whale blubber that I have brought in. They cost more, so most people won’t buy them. But they’re more economical since one will put out as much light as three tallow candles. Why don’t you take a couple home to use?

Eliza picked up two and grinned. I guess that’s one way of telling me I should go home and clean house or do whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing.

Father tweaked her nose. You can stay all day if you want, but I need to get to the back room. I’ve got an order to get out for Mrs. Wingate.

Who’s that? Anyone important?

He nodded. You might say. Her husband financed my business. His bank’s across the street.

Oh, I see. Eliza backed toward the door. Then I’d better get out of here and see if I can find something to fix for lunch. Do you want me to bring it here, or will you come home?

I plan to go by the school and get Lenny today. We’ll be at the house around noon.

Good. Eliza turned toward the door as it opened.

A man near her age stepped inside and stopped just short of touching her.

She froze, staring into his eyes. A fascinating steel gray color, they seemed to look beyond her face into her soul. He nodded, bringing her to the awareness of how close they stood. She stepped back, but in the brief moment before he spoke, she felt as if she’d connected with this stranger in a way she didn’t understand, hadn’t asked for, and didn’t need or want.

Hello. His gaze flickered away. I’m looking for Orval Jackson, the proprietor.

Eliza pressed a hand over her heart to still its pounding. What had just happened? She turned away. I’ll see you at noon, Father.

She didn’t wait for his response, but brushed past and hurried out the door, closing it behind her. Her feet couldn’t get her away from the strange encounter fast enough. She stepped off the boardwalk and walked away from the square toward home.

~*~

James swiveled to watch the girl until she closed the door, and the dusty window blocked his view of smooth, flawless skin and the lightest brown eyes he’d ever seen. Prettiest, too. She’d called the man Father. As soon as his brain registered that information, he swung around. He’d been staring after his potential employer’s daughter.

He swallowed and met the man’s amused gaze.

Is there something I can do for you? I’m Orval Jackson.

James ignored the heat singeing his ears and gave a brisk nod. Yes, I’m James Hurley. Mrs. Wingate sent me. She said you’re in need of help.

Mr. Jackson’s grin spread across his face. That’s right, Mrs. Wingate said you might come in this morning. Why don’t I show you around, tell you what I’ve got in mind? Then we’ll talk. See what you think.

James followed through a door in the back of the shop. If he hadn’t already ruined this opportunity by acting lovesick at the sight of the man’s daughter, he’d do the work whether he liked it or not. He’d have to if he got the two hundred acres adjoining the back of his property. The owner wanted cash and even with a regular job, he’d be saving for a while before he could afford it. A man could make a good living with almost three hundred acres in this part of the country, and that’s what he intended to do.

~*~

Eliza had fluffy mashed potatoes, fried pork, a pan of corn bread, and a bowl of brown beans sitting on the table before she realized she didn’t have fruit, and Father liked fruit with his noon meal. Maybe there was an apple tree in the yard, or she might find canned goods in a pantry.

She needed to explore the house and discover its hidden treasures. Father had gotten it completely furnished almost as if the former owners walked away taking only their personal effects. She looked around the well-ordered kitchen. The only doors opened from the front room, the dining room, and outside to the backyard, which meant there was no pantry.

She opened the back door and stepped into a small anteroom. It held nothing but hooks for outerwear, tools and utensils, and a bin of firewood. A quick look outside around the yard revealed only a couple of young trees, no fruit this late though. She could see no mound for a cellar. She turned to study the house.

A long, white door lay at an angle from the ground to the upper foundation. How clever to hide the cellar under the house. She lifted the door back against the outside of the house. Musty dampness filled her nostrils as she slowly descended the steps into the dark interior. She stood on the bottom step waiting for her eyes to adjust to the blackness below.

The back door slammed, and she jumped.

Eliza, where are you?

Down here, Father. She turned and ran back up the steps to the bright sunlit yard. I wanted to see in the cellar. I thought I might find some fruit for lunch.

Without a light?

I forgot to bring one.

Eliza laughed as Father pulled a candle and some Loco-foco matches from his pocket. Do all chandlers come prepared?

He grinned. I had a notion you were out here. Come on let’s see if we can find apples. There’s a tree in the yard.

A flurry from behind him brought Lenny to the front. I want to go too.

Great, you can keep the mice and bats away. Eliza grasped each of Lenny’s shoulders and held him in front of her. How was school this morning?

Aw, it was all right. He swiped at a spider web. Teacher’s okay, I guess.

She had a glowing report for me when I picked you up. I thought I’d never get away from her. Father followed them into the cellar. You seem to have made an impression on the lady.

No, you made the impression on that lady. Miss Fraser had surely set her sights on Father. She didn’t seem to know she was much too young for him.

Look at this. Father voice held a smile. Mr. Wingate said it was fully stocked, but I didn’t expect to find a cellar full of food.

You’ve been here over two months. Haven’t you even looked down here? How have you been eating? Eliza looked up from the full shelves.

In the soft light of the candle, Father’s grin looked sheepish. There’s a cafe up town for men like me who can’t feed themselves.

Eliza took several apples from a bin against the wall. Well, you won’t need to go there, anymore. She ran up the cellar steps, calling over her shoulder. Come on, our lunch is getting cold.

After they ate and the others left, Eliza washed dishes. She laughed as she pumped water into the kitchen sink. Having a hand pump attached to a sink that drained water out into the yard would cut down a great deal of her work.

A shrill whistle from the teakettle filled the kitchen as she put the last plate in the rinse pan. She poured the scalding hot water over her dishes and reached for the dishtowel. A few minutes later, her kitchen was again clean.

She stood in the center of the room and looked around with a pleased smile. It was a pleasant kitchen. Large and well lighted. One any woman would enjoy working in with all the conveniences.

Mother would have loved it. A familiar longing for her mother brought moisture to Eliza’s eyes. She brushed at them and sighed.

When Mother died, Eliza had awakened each morning to rediscover she was gone. Watching her father wilt before her eyes tore through her heart. Lenny hadn’t understood and probably still didn’t. All of it was hard, but giving up her baby sister had been the hardest. Eliza missed her so much it hurt even knowing she was happy with their older sister, Vickie. Now, Eliza and Lenny had to adjust to another upheaval when Father moved to Springfield. What lay ahead of them in this young town? She had no idea, but one thing she did know. She needed the solid, security of her father, and she’d do everything she could to keep women like Miss Penelope Fraser away.

Chapter 2

Rain fell most of the week, keeping Eliza confined to the house, until mid-morning on Thursday when gray clouds gave way to a blue sky. She welcomed the sunshine streaming through the windows by humming a tune as she fixed breakfast.

Well, you sound happy. Father stopped behind her, peering over her shoulder at the biscuit dough she spread on the kneading board. M-m-m. Fresh baked biscuits for breakfast.

Eliza smiled. Of course, they’re fresh. The way you and Lenny eat, how could I have any leftovers?

He patted her shoulder. You have a point there. Lenny does eat his share of everything, plus some extra. ’Course, he’s a growing boy.

And, what’s your excuse? Eliza tried to look stern.

Me? Father grinned. I’m a growing boy, too.

When she frowned, he laughed. I always thought the best way to compliment a cook was to eat plenty.

Eliza flushed with pleasure at his words. Thank you, Father. She dipped a tin cup in flour and began cutting round circles in her dough.

Father added a stick of wood to the stove. You’re a good little housekeeper, Eliza. You’re getting as good as your mother. I know she’d be proud of you.

Lenny burst into the kitchen before Eliza could respond. He ran across the room, slamming the back door against the wall. Sorry, but I gotta go bad.

He disappeared, leaving the door standing open. Eliza moved across the room to close it and saw him racing down the back path to the outhouse. What a whirlwind! I wonder how he’s getting along in school. He doesn’t talk about what he’s doing. Has he said anything to you about making any friends?

Father shook his head. No, not that I recall. I haven’t had anything but good reports from his teacher, though.

Eliza frowned. I’m sure he does well in his schoolwork. I was just wondering if he had adjusted to the move.

Father pulled some dishes from the cupboard while Eliza slid her pan of biscuits into the oven. It’s only been three days. Give him time. He’ll settle in and make himself at home.

After he set the plates on the table, Father turned toward Eliza. The question is how are you doing?

Me? Eliza shrugged. I’m fine. I think I’ll start the laundry this morning while the sun’s shining. I noticed there’s a good clothesline in back. With water right here in the kitchen and only three people to wash for, it shouldn’t be much of a job.

In that case, I’ll help you get some water heating. Father went to the small anteroom and came back with a large kettle. He set it on the stove and proceeded to fill it with water. That should be enough to get started. After we eat, I’ll lift the hot water down for you.

~*~

In the kitchen, quiet now with the others gone, Eliza soaked their clothes in boiling water, pushing them under with a round stick bleached smooth and white from many washdays. She opened the backdoor and lifted the washboard down from a peg on the wall then hesitated with it in her hands. Should she use it? When she helped her mother, they’d boiled the clothes then beat the dirt out by hitting them repeatedly with a battling paddle. Mother’s clothes were always clean. Would the washboard do as good a job?

She shrugged. There really wasn’t a choice since Cora took the battling bench and paddle to her new house. At least the washboard should be easier to use. She set up a washtub with lye soap and warm water. Using the laundry stick, she lifted the clothes one at a time from the boiling water and slid them into the sudsy water. With the legs of the washboard in the water and the top leaning against her waist, Eliza rubbed the clothes against the bumpy surface of the board.

Finally, she wrung out as much water as she could from each piece and tossed the twisted bundles into a basket.

Sunshine warmed her head as she hung out her wash. She smiled after inspecting her father’s white shirt. It looked as clean as if Mother had washed it.

Her smile vanished at a door slamming inside. Lenny burst through the back door. Hi. Whatcha doin’ out here?

What are you doing home so soon? Eliza lifted questioning eyes to her father who had followed close on Lenny’s heels.

It ain’t soon. It’s noon. Lenny laughed. Hey, I made a rhyme. Did you hear that? Soon and noon.

Father grinned. You sure did, and I’m hungry as a pig.

Lenny laughed again. That doesn’t rhyme too good. While Eliza fixes lunch do you want me to carry in some wood? See, Father, that’s how you make rhymes.

Father’s eyes twinkled above his grin. Looks like you won. Since you’re so good at rhyming, I’ll take you up on your offer.

Offer? Lenny’s eyes grew wide. I didn’t mean—

Sure, you did. Father turned him toward the woodpile. There’s a box in the back room. By the time you have it filled, Eliza should have dinner ready.

As Lenny turned away grumbling, Eliza lifted stricken eyes to her father. I’m so sorry. I forgot to watch the time. What can I fix now?

Didn’t I see some cheese in the cellar on that table by the door? Father grinned. This is a perfect day for cheese sandwiches and fresh milk. An apple on the side will make a tasty meal.

Eliza’s heart filled with love for her father. There couldn’t be any other like him. She stopped at the cellar door and turned back. But, we don’t have any milk.

Father grinned again. Oh, yes, we do. A chandler does not always take pay in cash money. Just this morning a lady purchased some candles with a gallon of fresh cow’s milk. I left it sitting on the kitchen table.

Eliza soon had the bread and cheese sliced and