The Magic of Christmas. Carolyn DavidsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
maybe I’d better get back to the parsonage and let David do his business with the mayor, hadn’t I?”
Janet smiled, her eyes beaming with anticipation. “I can’t wait till tomorrow. Every lady in town will be in the store before the day is over, wondering what is going on. You’ll have their eyes glued on you, I’ll guarantee it.”
Marianne felt a flush creep up her cheeks. “I don’t know if I’m looking forward to that. I’d thought maybe we could keep it very quiet if we decided to do this, sort of just make it a private thing.”
“Not a chance,” Janet said with a hoot of laughter.
“Everyone in town will be wanting to give you a pounding.”
“A pounding?” Marianne’s eyes widened as she considered the word, wondering at its meaning.
“A pounding is where each family brings a pound of this or that to the happy couple’s home. A pound of coffee, or flour or maybe sugar or butter. Quite often it’s more than just a pound, for folks think highly of Mr. McDermott and they’ll want to welcome you into the parsonage as his wife in fine style.”
David left the house as soon as Marianne returned, heading for the mayor’s home, leaving Marianne with a smile, and his expression speaking of his pleasure at the circumstances. He obviously was pleased at the idea of gaining a wife so readily, Marianne decided. It was likely that he was weary of taking care of himself, although the parsonage did not show neglect in any way. He apparently had taken good care of his home, keeping it clean and caring for his belongings.
She spent an hour preparing dinner, first finding a piece of smoked pork in the pantry, then placing it in a baking pan, sliding it into the oven and deciding on a kettle of green beans and potatoes to go with it. Most men enjoyed their big meal of the day at noontime—at least her father had, and her mother had said it was the usual circumstance to have a large meal at noon, then just soup or some such thing for supper later on in the day.
She heard Joshua’s cry as he awakened and she made haste to wash her hands and set a pan of warm water on the table for his bath, then gathered him up from the bed and stripped him of his clothing so that she could give him a fresh start. He was a pleasure to tend, contented to allow her to wash his head, using a cloth to wipe his arms and legs and then his back. He shivered as she finished the task, and she wrapped him in a clean towel she’d found in David’s bedroom. His small head smelled sweet, she thought, just as an infant should, and it was with joy that she diapered him and found the last clean gown for him to wear.
The laundry must be done soon, for he was almost out of diapers, having only just a few more than a dozen to his name. A washtub on the porch offered her a place to soak his clothing, and she put it in front of the stove, half filling it with warm water from the reservoir.
His bottle ready, she held him in her arms in the rocking chair and sang to him as he ate his meal, his hands clutching at her fingers, his nose nuzzling her as he searched out the nipple she’d carefully washed and readied for his use.
He was warm and soft and she felt an overwhelming love for the mite as she rocked him, holding him close, humming a lullaby she’d heard her mother sing as she worked around the house, one she remembered hearing as a child.
When David returned from his jaunt across town, she had just put Joshua down on the bed, knowing that he would sleep again for at least two hours. He was a good baby, her former neighbor had said, quickly accustoming himself to the schedule of eating and sleeping. Marianne had not spent much time with children up until this point in her life, but tending to her brother was a chore she accepted as her due.
David had good news. “The mayor seems to think it would be a good idea for us to be married. He said every man needs a wife, and a preacher especially so. The parsonage is usually the place where people come with their problems, and it is better if there is a true family living there. I understand what he was saying, for it isn’t a good idea for a man of the church not to have a wife of his own. He said I’ve been the object of several young ladies’ attention of late, and I suspect he is right. For I feel sometimes like I’m on display.”
Marianne nodded at his words. “What do you think we should do?” she asked.
“Did Janet have any ideas?” David wanted to know. “I thought she might speak her mind to you.” Marianne nodded, looking down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. “She thinks it’s a good idea, our getting married. I just don’t want you to jump into something you may be sorry for later on. What if you find that you don’t like me well enough to share your life with me?”
The expression on David’s face was almost comical, for he’d apparently not thought of that possibility. “I see no reason why we couldn’t make a good marriage. You’re a woman who would appeal to any man with eyes in his head, and I’m not immune to the allure you offer.”
“Me?” She was stunned by his words. “I didn’t think you had looked at me that way, David.”
“You don’t know much about men, do you?” At the quick shake of her head, he continued, his voice soft, his gaze upon her seeming as warm as a spring breeze. His words were genuine, spoken from his heart, and he felt the pace of that organ in his chest vibrating in a mysterious rhythm. “You are slender and most appealing, Marianne, with curves that speak of feminine form and beauty. Your eyes are lovely, your hair looks like pure silk. It makes my hands itch to touch it and run it through my fingers. Altogether you are a woman any man would be proud to marry. Best of all, your demeanor is modest, your upbringing obviously that of a girl with a good background. I’ll bet your folks were strict with you, weren’t they? I doubt they allowed you to be alone with any young men, did they?”
He halted, watching her with a warmth in his eyes that made her wonder at the many charms he had described, made her stomach swim in a delightful manner. She shook her head in bewilderment. “No one has ever spoken to me this way before. I don’t know what to think, David. I look in my mirror every morning when I wash my face and brush my hair, and I swear to you I don’t see the woman you have described.”
“Perhaps I look with the eyes of a man who is attracted to you, Marianne. Maybe my viewpoint is so different than yours because it is one of masculine interest. Know that I am being as honest with you as I know how. I would never tell you an untruth or exaggerate my feelings. You are a tempting woman and I would find it no hardship to put my ring on your finger and claim you as my wife.”
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